#im back from the dead.. again... huh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 months ago

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baby daddy (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Some blood and stuff

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: I'll be so honest, this was way better in my head lol my execution needs work because aint no way this is 7k words and im still not satisfied perhaps this would be best as a series? but tbh i dont think i can write much more than this

It's based on this post from @batbusiness-schooldropout

"Alright, who the hell snitched?"

Jason stormed into the Batcave, helmet tucked under his arm, pissed.

Tim barely looked up from the Batcomputer, "What are you talking about?"

Jason gestured wildly, "I just had a fun little run-in with a couple of GCPD officers who very politely informed me that I have an outstanding legal matter that needs my attention. Which is news to me because I don’t exactly file taxes or have jury duty, so what the hell are they trying to pull?"

Tim blinked, "You have a warrant?"

"That’s what I’m asking you!" Jason snapped.

Tim, now curious, spun back to the screen, "Alright, let’s check."

He typed in Red Hood and cross-checked it with Gotham’s legal system. A few minor infractions came up—nothing serious—but then…

There it was.

Tim frowned, "Huh."

Jason narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"It’s… not a warrant," Tim said slowly, "It’s a summons."

Jason crossed his arms, "For what?"

Tim clicked on the file. A scanned document popped up, the words 'LEGAL NOTICE' at the top.

"Looks like someone filed you as a legal guardian," Tim muttered, "Gotham’s courts have been trying to notify you for a while now. They probably flagged it to GCPD just to get it on your radar."

Jason scoffed, "Guardian? Of who?"

Tim clicked again, "A kid named Aria (L/N)."

Jason frowned, "That name means nothing to me."

Tim went still.

Jason’s stomach sank, "...What?"

Tim very slowly turned the screen toward him.

Jason stared.

Child’s Name: Aria (L/N) Mother: (Y/N) (L/N) Father: Red Hood

His brain just stopped working.

Dick, passing by with his coffee, glanced at the screen, "Oh, damn. Jay, you finally settling down?"

Jason whipped around to glare at him, "I don’t know this woman! I don’t have a kid!"

"Legally, you do." Tim pointed out.

Jason turned back to the screen, rubbing his temples, "Why is my life like this?"

Tim scrolled further, "Looks like the mother put your name down instead of the real father’s. And since Gotham courts don’t do DNA tests without permission from both parents… that guy got screwed out of custody."

Jason clenched his jaw, "And now they’re trying to find me because I’m on record as the dad."

Tim squinted at the file, then choked.

Jason looked at him warily, "...What?"

Tim covered his mouth, trying so hard not to laugh, "There's a comments section."

Jason leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the document. Then he saw it.

Additional Comments: "He kept the helmet on the whole time."

The Cave went dead silent.

Jason stared. Tim bit his lip. Dick was turning red trying not to lose it.

Then—

Tim wheezed.

Dick howled.

Jason smacked his forehead against the Batcomputer, "I hate everything."

He then exhaled sharply, cutting off his mental breakdown before muttering, "Okay. Fine. I’ll go find the mother and figure this out."

Dick snickered, "Tell Aria Daddy’s coming home."

Jason threw a batarang at him.

***

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

The distorted, robotic voice from his helmet made you freeze in place. Your pulse thundered in your ears, dread settling like a stone in your stomach. You knew exactly why the Red Hood was in your apartment.

You turned slowly, keeping your hands in sight as if that would make a difference, "Please, don't. My daughter is in the next room. She only has me."

"Don't you mean our daughter?" He bit out, sarcasm cutting through the voice modulator.

Despite whatever anger he held toward you, he hesitated, feeling pity. You must have looked terrified.

"I'm not here to hurt you," He said after a beat, "I just want an explanation."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm, "Her father is an asshole. I couldn’t let him have any rights over her, so I wrote your name down on all her documents. Gotham has no way of verifying, so they just had to take my word for it."

You met his gaze, your voice steady despite the situation, "I’m sorry if I made things complicated for you, but this was the only way I knew to keep his hands off her."

Jason exhaled sharply, shifting his weight, "How long did you think this would go unnoticed?"

You hesitated before answering, "Well… 'our' daughter turned five last month, so I figured you weren't going to find out anytime soon. Guess I was wrong."

You knew of Red Hood. You knew what he stood for. No matter what, he would never hurt a child. Ever. And if the rumors about him were true, then he would realize that you had only been acting in Aria’s best interest.

He studied you, the lenses of his helmet unreadable, but you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. This was an invasion of privacy—probably illegal, even—but instead of anger, he seemed... intrigued. You weren’t what he expected. You were clever, maybe even reckless, but clearly devoted to your daughter.

And—if he was being honest—pretty. Definitely pretty.

"Why me?" He finally asked, "Why not any of the other Bats?"

You shrugged, "Of all of them, you seemed like the least likely for civil court to track down." That much was true—any time someone tried to drag Red Hood into Gotham’s legal system, he either ignored it or laughed in their face before firing a warning shot.

"You're also the scariest, aside from Batman. And I didn’t want him getting any ideas about recruiting Aria for his next child vigilante project once Robin retires again." You smirked, "Lastly, having a baby daddy without a no-kill rule seemed like a great way to keep that deadbeat asshole far, far away from us."

Jason flat-out laughed at that. The sound, even through the voice modulator, carried warmth.

"You make an excellent argument," He admitted.

You relaxed slightly, "I am sorry. If I knew it was going to bother you, I never would have done it."

He shrugged, completely unbothered, "Doesn’t bother me. You were doing right by your kid. I can respect that."

Relief washed over you, and you smiled. You didn’t push the conversation further—if he wanted to be taken off her documents, he’d ask.

Instead, he surprised you.

"Can I meet her?"

Your breath caught, "Who? Aria?"

"I mean, legally, she’s my kid, right? That means I have visitation rights."

Apprehension prickled at the edges of your mind. Had you just swapped out one danger for another? You had gone to great lengths to keep Aria safe from one man—had you unknowingly invited another into her life?

Jason seemed to sense your hesitation. "You can say no," He said, almost gently, "But I just found out I have a daughter today. I’d like to meet the girl who made you pull a stunt this reckless and brave."

You could say no. You probably should say no.

And yet, as you looked at the masked man standing in your too-small living room, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

"...Okay," You said at last, "But you might want to take off the mask. She scares easy."

Jason chuckled, low and amused. You half-expected him to refuse, to make some offhanded comment before declining the invitation and leaving, but instead, you heard the soft click as he unlocked his helmet and pulled it off.

Dark, slightly messy hair with a single white streak. Stormy blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones and full lips.

"Wow," You breathed before you could stop yourself.

He raised a brow.

You cleared your throat, cheeks warming, "I can see where our daughter gets her good looks from."

Jason snorted, shaking his head.

"Aria, honey!" You called, turning toward her room, "Come out for a second, please!"

The door creaked open, followed by the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. Aria emerged in a pink tutu, a plastic wand in her hands, and a sparkly tiara perched on her head.

She blinked up at Jason with wide, curious eyes.

"This is Mommy’s friend, Red Hood," You told her, "He wanted to say hi."

Aria beamed, "Hi, Mr. Hood!" She grabbed the edges of her tutu and curtsied, just like the princesses in her favorite cartoons.

You glanced at Jason. His expression had softened, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For a man who had probably seen the worst the world had to offer, he looked completely in awe.

Jason, the Red Hood—the most terrifying name in Gotham’s underworld—cleared his throat, gripping his helmet a little tighter.

"Uh. Hi there." He said, voice definitely shaking.

You bit your lip, looking down to hide your smile.

This huge crime lord, who had probably seen more murders tonight than you had in your entire life, was nervous talking to a five-year-old.

Aria giggled, "You talk funny."

Jason blinked, "I do?"

She nodded, "Your voice is all rumbly! Like Batman!"

Jason made a very undignified sound, "I am nothing like Batman, princess."

Aria gasped dramatically, "You know Batman?!"

***

Jason didn’t know exactly how he ended up in this position.

After that first meeting with Aria, he’d been more than ready to let you both get back to your lives. You had only put his name down as Aria's father to scare off her real father; he had no place here.

And yet.

When he found himself alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, or in the rare moments of silence while working on cars, his mind drifted. He’d think about Aria—her wide, innocent eyes staring up at him, the way she had curtsied like a damn princess, completely unafraid of the man Gotham whispered about in fear.

An unfamiliar squeeze tugged at his heart.

He had a daughter.

And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to protect her—to keep that innocence untouched, to make sure she was safe and happy. He wanted to be a father.

Then, inevitably, his thoughts turned to you.

You hadn't spoken for long, but somehow, you’d managed to stick in his mind. Despite it being the end of the day, exhaustion tugging at you, there had been a light in your eyes—something warm, something alive. He found himself drawn to it.

The confidence in your posture, the way you had no trouble meeting his eyes, the sheer sass you had thrown his way despite knowing exactly who he was. And above all, the love and protectiveness you had for Aria.

You were nothing like anyone he had ever met before.

A couple of days later, he found himself knocking at your door again.

He had told himself it was just to check on Aria after a Joker attack. That was reasonable, right? He had to make sure she was safe. That’s all it was.

You had offered him dinner. He declined.

Then, a couple of days after that, he found himself there again—this time after a Poison Ivy incident.

You offered him dinner again.

This time, he obliged.

That night, he sat at your dinner table with you and Aria, listening as she excitedly told him about school. He learned about your job, about the little details of your life, and—much to his amusement—was introduced to what Aria called the greatest meal in the entire world.

Hello Kitty-shaped pasta.

He raised a brow at you.

You shrugged, "It’s expensive, but it makes her happy."

Jason huffed a small laugh, "What’s the special occasion?"

Aria beamed, practically vibrating in her seat.

"I got made line leader today!" She announced proudly.

You glanced at her with a mix of amusement and pride, eyes warm, "It’s a big deal."

Jason turned to Aria, his chest tightening at the way she puffed herself up with pride. Without thinking, he reached out and ruffled her hair like it was second nature.

"Good job, princess," He murmured.

Her entire face lit up.

And just like that, Jason Todd was done for.

It had been two months since Jason first met the both of you, and now, sitting at the dinner table, he was experiencing his first real parental crisis.

It was obvious that Aria was in a bad mood.

She barely touched her food, half-heartedly pushing it around her plate. Even when you suggested ordering takeout—usually a foolproof way to lift her spirits—she just shook her head. You and Jason exchanged a concerned glance over her head.

Something was clearly wrong.

You sighed, resigning yourself to the hope that she’d tell you before bed or at least over breakfast tomorrow.

"I'm just gonna go take a shower, do you mind?" You asked, gesturing toward Aria.

Jason didn’t hesitate before nodding.

You smiled gratefully, pressing a kiss to Aria’s crown before leaning over and doing the same to Jason.

A month ago, that would’ve made him jump out of his skin. Now, after two months of shared dinners—some planned, others happening more naturally—he only sat there, heart racing in his chest, pretending that wasn’t the highlight of his day.

When he heard the shower turn on, he turned to Aria with a mischievous grin.

"Okay, Mom’s in the shower. What do you say to ice cream for dinner?"

Jason liked to pretend you had no idea whenever he and Aria snuck ice cream together. But ever since he convinced you to let him make homemade ice cream with protein shakes and sneaky healthy ingredients, you had stopped putting up much of a fight. Besides, he wasn’t exactly subtle. If he didn’t outright tell you, the dirty dishes in the sink were more than enough of a giveaway.

More than anything, though, he just wanted Aria to eat something.

But tonight, instead of the excited little gasp she usually gave, Aria just frowned.

"Mommy doesn’t like that."

"Princess," He said more gently, shifting in his seat, "is something wrong? You love ice cream. And Mom made one of your favorites tonight, but you’re not eating, and…" His voice softened, "That makes me sad."

Aria hesitated for a few seconds before pushing her plate away and sliding off her chair. Jason tensed, heart thudding slightly faster. Shit, did I upset her? Is she about to cry?

But she didn’t.

Instead, she ran off, returning moments later with her pink Barbie backpack. She unzipped it and rifled through its contents before pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and handing it to him.

Jason smoothed the paper out.

And felt his stomach drop.

Daddy-Daughter Day!

"My teacher told us to give it to our parents," Aria said quietly, her lip trembling, "So our daddies can come visit one day."

She fidgeted, looking down at her hands.

"But… I don’t have a daddy."

And just like that, Jason Todd’s heart broke in two.

***

When you came out of the shower, towel-drying your hair and now dressed in your pajamas, you immediately looked around for Aria.

"She didn’t really want to eat, so I just put her to bed," Jason informed you.

You sighed, sinking into a chair at the dining table, "Do you think I should call her teacher tomorrow and ask if something happened? Maybe someone was being mean to her at school?"

Wordlessly, Jason slid a folded piece of paper across the table toward you. You furrowed your brows and picked it up, unfolding it to read.

Your face immediately darkened.

"This can’t be right!" You hissed, voice sharp with anger. "I thought schools had outfashioned practices like this! What happened to inclusivity and all that crap? What about kids with two moms? Or no parents at all? I’m calling up the school. I’m gonna be a full-blown Karen. I’m gonna—"

"(Y/N)—"

"No, Jason, this isn’t okay!"

Despite your fury, you kept your voice down for Aria’s sake. Jason wasn’t sure if you were about to explode or just strain your vocal cords with your whispered screams. But then, just as suddenly as your anger had flared, you seemed to fizzle out.

You slumped back into your chair, rubbing your face with trembling hands.

"I’ve done everything I can to make sure Aria never feels the absence of a father," You murmured.

"I’ve tried. I’ve—" Your voice cracked.

You let out a shaky breath and shielded your face with your hands, "My poor baby. I can’t believe she held onto this all day without telling me."

Jason think twice before he pulled you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his neck as you composed yourself.

After a moment, he spoke, "Look, I know it might not be the same, but… I was thinking. What if I attended the event with Aria?"

You stiffened, then slowly pulled back, meeting his eyes. Your expression wasn’t hopeful—it was guarded.

Jason’s stomach soured.

"Jay, I know we’ve been having a good time lately, but you can’t do that to Aria," You said, shaking your head, "If you go to this event as her dad, she’s going to see you as that. And you can’t—you can’t do that to her."

Jason swallowed hard. His voice was quieter when he asked, "What if I wanted to? To be seen as her dad? Would that really be so terrible?"

You didn’t answer.

You just stood up from the table and walked away.

Jason almost would have laughed at how much you resembled Aria in that moment if he didn't feel his stomach sinking to his feet.

But just like Aria, you also came back.

Clutched in your hands was a camera. You placed it in front of him, watching as he stared at you with unsure eyes.

"I record all of Aria’s school events," You said softly. "Don’t miss a second of it."

Jason blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

Before you could react, he grabbed you and twirled you around the kitchen.

You let out a surprised squeal before bursting into giggles, clinging onto his shoulders. But then, realization hit.

You were definitely not wearing a bra.

Your giggles faded, and Jason froze as well, both of you suddenly very aware of how close you were. You stared at each other, identical blushes creeping up your cheeks.

You cleared your throat.

"You can—um—you can put me down now."

***

It was almost comical how small the classroom was.

Jason had to duck his head to step inside, barely squeezing through the low doorframe. The room was packed—about fifteen other dads crammed into tiny plastic chairs that looked like they could barely support one ass cheek. Jason didn’t even bother trying. Instead, he just lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs as he settled in.

The dads around him nodded politely as they all waited for the teachers to finish setting up and taking attendance.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you around before," A man beside him said, shifting his son in his lap, "I’m David."

"Jason," He replied, shaking his hand with a firm but polite grip.

"This is Harry," David continued, gesturing to the little boy who peeked up at Jason shyly before quickly burying his face in his dad’s shirt. Jason chuckled.

"So, which one’s yours?"

Jason glanced across the room, "Over there, in the book corner."

David followed his gaze. In the far corner, a little girl in denim dungarees rifled through a stack of picture books with a very serious expression, clearly determined to find a specific one. Jason had picked out her outfit today—he’d even let her wear the tiara she refused to take off, despite your insistence that it was an inside toy.

No doubt, she was making a mess that her poor teacher would have to clean up later.

David frowned, "Who?"

"The one with the tiara," Jason said.

David's confusion deepened, "Aria?"

Jason’s brows furrowed, "Yeah."

"Aria (L/N)?"

"Yes."

David blinked, "I—I didn’t know you were—I thought (Y/N) was single."

Jason’s expression darkened. A phantom of a scowl flickered across his face before he forced himself to relax. He wasn’t about to scare off the other parents at an event that was supposed to be important for Aria.

"She isn’t," He said simply.

David paled, "Oh. Uh—sorry." He quickly bowed his head, clearly embarrassed.

Jason smirked, barely hiding his haughty attitude. So what if he told a little white lie? It wouldn’t do any harm for Dave—or Dan, or whatever his name was—to keep his sights off you.

Really, you deserved better than some average, boring guy who probably filed his taxes early and grilled chicken without seasoning. Someone like that wouldn’t know how to handle you. He wouldn’t know how to make you laugh when you were stressed, wouldn’t know how to handle your sass, wouldn’t know how to love you the way you deserved.

No, you needed someone confident. Someone strong. Someone who could protect you and Aria. Someone with a soft side, sure, but also someone who wasn’t afraid to fight for you. Someone who would go to hell and back if it meant keeping you both safe.

Someone like…

Oh.

Jason's smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered, clearing his throat and forcing himself to focus on Aria, who was still knee-deep in her book hunt.

Well. That was something to unpack later.

***

"Now, all together, everyone! On the count of three—one, two, three!" the teacher announced cheerfully.

A chorus of tiny voices rang out.

"I love you, Dad!"

It was loud, chaotic, a jumble of high-pitched shouts that somehow blended into something warm and sweet. Parents chuckled, kids giggled, the room filled with laughter and joy.

But Jason’s heart sank.

While the other kids beamed up at their fathers, Aria clutched the handmade card in tight fists, her knuckles white. She kept her head down, lip wobbling, shoulders trembling as she struggled to say the words.

Jason knelt in front of her, his heart twisting. God, she’s so small. Both of her tiny hands barely covered his palm as he gently took them in his own.

"You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, Aria," He told her softly, "I’m not going to force you to do anything. Just know that I love you very much, princess. That’s enough for me."

She finally looked up at him, somehow seeming even smaller despite the fact that he was kneeling. Her big, glassy doe eyes searched his face.

"You really love me?" She asked in the quietest whisper.

"More than anything, baby."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could think about the weight they carried. About what it might mean for a little girl who had spent her whole life without a father.

For a moment, she just stared at him. Jason barely had time to register the emotion in her eyes before she launched herself at him, tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She burrowed against him, her small frame pressing against his chest as she whispered into his ear—

"I love you, Daddy."

Jason felt his breath catch in his throat.

Oh. Oh.

He squeezed her tighter, pressing his face into her soft curls, "I love you too, princess," He murmured, voice thick with something he wasn’t ready to name.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd felt like he belonged.

***

Aria had been absolutely beaming after Daddy-Daughter Day, her excitement carrying her through the evening—especially since Jason had taken her to the park afterward. She had barely managed to get through telling you about her day, slurring her words sleepily as you tucked her into bed.

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, smoothing down her hair before stepping away, only to find Jason waiting for you in the doorway.

You smiled at him, reaching for his hand and leading him back to the living room. Without a word, you poured him a glass of wine, knowing that, even though he wouldn’t admit it, the day at her kindergarten had probably exhausted him. The proof was in the way he let out an almost comically heavy sigh the second he sank onto the couch.

You settled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder like it belonged there, both of you staring at the very much off television in comfortable silence.

“She has a lot of energy, doesn’t she?” You murmured, amused.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “Yeah. I like to think I’m somewhat athletic, but Aria put me to shame today.”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly to look up at him, “Thanks for going today. It meant a lot to her. And to me, too.”

There was a beat of silence before Jason reached for your hand, his fingers threading through yours like second nature. His grip was warm, grounding.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Living in Gotham, you considered yourself one of the lucky ones.

Sure, you weren’t immune to the constant calamities that plagued the city, but you had managed to avoid being caught in the worst of them. Your bank had never been robbed while you were there. You had never been held hostage. You were one of the few people left who had never fallen victim to Joker venom.

Sure, your house had been broken into before—before Aria—but you were never home when it happened.

Really, you should’ve known your luck was going to run out eventually.

You had gotten too comfortable with Jason’s late-night visits, so when the knock came at your door, you didn’t even hesitate. You didn’t check the peephole. You didn’t ask who it was. You just…opened it.

Rookie mistake.

The man standing on the other side was a stranger. Tall. Built. And he made no effort to conceal the gun in his pocket.

Your blood went cold.

A smirk curled at his lips, sending goosebumps crawling up your skin. Your throat tightened.

“Hello, sweetheart. Did your baby daddy stop by?”

Your voice barely came out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man tsked, stepping forward, making you instinctively press yourself against the doorframe.

“Now, now. Don’t lie,” He murmured, “It won’t end well for you—or the little runt back there.”

Your heart stopped.

Aria.

Terror clawed at your chest, your breath shuddering. Tears burned your eyes.

“Please,” You whispered, “Don’t hurt her. She’s just a child.”

“The child of the infamous Red Hood.” He tilted his head mockingly, “You can’t possibly think that means nothing.”

You shook your head violently, “She doesn’t know anything. I don’t know anything. Please.”

Your hands were iron on the doorknob, but it meant nothing.

With a single sharp shove, he flung the door open.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

***

Jason had been having a good night.

He had just finished his patrol and was on his way to your place, eager to see you and Aria. Maybe he’d bring her some hot chocolate, tuck her into bed, and spend the rest of the night with you, pretending—for just a little while—that the world outside didn’t exist.

Then he saw the door.

Wide open.

His blood ran cold.

Jason didn’t think—he moved. Gun drawn, he stormed inside, heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal. The second he stepped into the apartment, his stomach dropped.

The place was trashed.

Aria’s toys were scattered across the floor, your coffee table overturned, and the framed pictures on the wall had been knocked down, the glass shattered.

There had been a struggle.

Jason’s throat tightened as his eyes landed on a streak of blood smeared across the hardwood floor.

His world tilted.

No. No, no, no, NO.

His hands shook, but his grip on his gun only tightened. His pulse was pounding in his ears, deafening, drowning out everything but the rage that ignited in his chest like an explosion.

His vision blurred with fury.

Someone took you. Someone took Aria.

His family.

Jason turned sharply and stormed out of the apartment, his movements lethal and precise. He going to hunt down the bastards who thought they could take his girls and live to tell the tale.

They were going to pay.

***

"I need you to find two missing people."

That was the first thing out of Jason’s mouth the second he entered the cave. His urgency didn’t seem apparent enough to anyone, judging by the way Dick and Bruce didn’t even look up from sparring.

Tim, who didn’t bother glancing away from the Batcomputer, simply asked, “Who?”

“(Y/N) and Aria (L/N).”

At this, Dick perked up, “Your fake baby mama and kid? She might not be missing, Little Wing. Maybe she’s just at Superman’s baby shower.”

Dick wasn’t expecting boisterous laughter, but at least a huff of breath or a chuckle would have been appreciated. Instead, he suddenly found himself grabbed by the collar, yanked forward until he was forced to look Jason in the eye.

Jason’s expression was thunderous—fury on the surface, but something even more unsettling lurked underneath.

“The mother of my child and my daughter are missing, and you want to make jokes?”

Dick raised a brow, forcing himself to stay calm, “I thought you didn’t know them?”

Jason’s grip tightened for a second before he let go, stepping back. His voice was low, unwavering.

“I do now.”

***

The world felt like it was spinning in slow motion. Every breath was a struggle, your head pounding from the blow you’d taken earlier, your body screaming in pain with every movement. You tried to focus, tried to tell yourself it was going to be okay—that Aria was okay—but you weren’t okay.

You had been firm in your resolve, refusing to reveal anything about the Red Hood, willing to die on the hill that you knew nothing. But you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. So far, they had only hurt you—because when they had turned to Aria, demanding answers, she had wailed and sobbed until she peed herself. The memory made tears well in your eyes.

Your poor girl might walk out of this untouched, but she wouldn’t leave unscathed. This would haunt her for years to come.

And you knew—the second they turned back toward her, the second they so much as raised a hand in her direction—you would break. It didn’t matter how much you loved Jason. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever put anyone above Aria’s safety.

Her terrified little eyes stayed locked on you, watching as a trail of blood ran down the side of your face.

Then the door slammed open.

The sound echoed in the empty space, sharp and deafening. Your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat. The man holding you captive turned toward the entrance, a sneer curling his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawled, his voice sickeningly amused. “Looks like Daddy's finally joined us for the party.”

Your heart leaped in your chest. But you couldn’t show it. Not when Aria was still in danger.

With the momentary distraction, she crawled into your lap, and despite the blinding pain searing through your body, you pulled her in. She trembled against you, clutching onto you as if her life depended on it—and in a way, it did. You shielded her, wrapping your arms around her tiny frame, covering her eyes with your bloody hand.

You whispered sweet nothings into her ear, pressing weak kisses to her temple, hoping—praying—that it would be enough to comfort her.

Then came the first gunshot.

You didn’t dare look. You knew what was happening. You could hear it in the crack of bone, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the floor, the sharp gasps of dying men. Jason was swift. Merciless. Tearing through the people who had dared to lay a hand on you and his daughter.

He was here.

He was going to save you.

Another body collapsed nearby, and your breath hitched. You felt yourself slipping, your limbs numb, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Then, his voice cut through the haze—low and desperate, but still gentle.

“Sweetheart?”

You wanted to look up at him, to reach for him, but your body was betraying you. Your vision blurred, the pain making it impossible to move.

His hand cupped your face, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You tried to focus on that, tried to hold on.

“Talk to me, baby,” He murmured, his voice tight with worry.

But you couldn’t. You could barely breathe. The only thing keeping you tethered to consciousness was the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder—the scent of Jason, of safety, of home.

You felt him shift, carefully lifting you into his arms, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You instinctively leaned into him, letting his presence surround you.

Aria clung to him just as tightly, her tiny voice muffled against his chest.

“Daddy!”

Despite everything, despite the agony consuming your body, your heart swelled at hearing her call him that. When had she started calling him Dad?

Then Jason’s fingers brushed against your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His voice was softer now, almost breaking.

“Stay with me, sweetheart.”

You forced your eyes open, locking onto his—those intense, unwavering blue eyes that had pinned you to your place the first time you had met in your apartment.

That day you had been apprehensive at best when he had asked to meet Aria, second guessing every choice you made but in the end choosing to follow your gut when it said it had a good feeling about him.

Now, you were sure of it.

“Jason,” You rasped, barely above a whisper. His head snapped down toward you instantly, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip through his fingers.

“I need you to promise me something,” You murmured, your breath shallow, your chest tight.

His brows furrowed. “Anything,” He said, but the hesitance in his voice told you he already knew where this was going.

“I need you to promise…” You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going, “If something happens to me… you’ll take care of Aria. Promise me, Jay.”

He froze.

For the first time since he’d stormed in, tearing through your captors like an avenging angel, he looked terrified.

His lips parted, but no words came out. You could see the battle raging inside him—the part of him that refused to believe he could lose you and the part that was too afraid not to make that promise.

“Don’t you dare say that,” He finally whispered, voice trembling, “I’m not losing you. I won’t—”

“Promise me,” You urged. You barely had the strength to grip his jacket, but you pulled weakly at the fabric anyway, needing him to understand.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his breath coming out in uneven bursts. But he wasn’t crying. Not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he swallowed hard and nodded.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” He swore, his voice breaking. “I won’t let her grow up without you. I promise.”

The relief that washed over you was instant. Even as your vision darkened at the edges, even as your body started to give out, you felt… safe. At peace.

With your last burst of strength, you reached for Aria’s tiny hand, wrapping it in your weak grasp. You gave her a faint squeeze, managing the smallest of smiles.

“I love you,” You whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, “Both of you.”

Jason's breath hitched. His grip around you tightened, as if he could physically keep you here, tethered to him, to Aria, to the life he couldn't bear to lose.

“No, no, sweetheart—stay with me," He pleaded, his voice cracking, raw with panic. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky, "You don’t get to say that like it’s the last time. You don’t—Please (Y/N)—" His voice broke completely, and for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd was afraid.

Because he knew what loss felt like. Knew it too well.

And he couldn't—wouldn't—survive losing you too.

Aria let out a whimper, squeezing your fingers with her tiny hand. "Mommy?" Her voice was so small, so scared, and it shattered something inside him.

He shifted you in his arms, holding you closer, keeping you upright even though your body was limp.

“I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, but the words felt hollow, like a plea rather than a promise.

Aria began to sob loudly, little hands grabbing at your sleeve, trying to shake you awake, “Mommy, wake up! Please!”

Her wails were raw, desperate, but Jason had to hold her back, had to keep her from accidentally hurting you any further. His grip on her was gentle but firm, even as his own body trembled with barely restrained terror.

He buried his face in her hair, biting back the sob threatening to claw its way out of his throat. He held you tighter, as if he could physically keep your soul tethered to him, as if just holding you close would stop the light from fading from your eyes.

He had never felt this helpless.

Jason Todd, the Red Hood, the man who had clawed his way back from the grave, who had survived horrors most people couldn’t even imagine—he was useless when it mattered most.

He was holding the broken pieces of this family.

A family that had been good, that had been safe before he came into the picture. A family that had welcomed him with open arms, treated him as though he had never been missing in the first place.

And what had he done in return?

He had ruined it.

He had brought his war, his bloodstained hands, his cursed existence into your lives, and now you were paying the price for it.

If he had never been selfish enough to stay, to want this, to think—even for a second—that he could have something good, that he could deserve you, this never would have happened.

This was his fault.

It was always his fault.

His mother’s betrayal. His death. His resurrection. The people he killed. The people he couldn’t save.

And now you.

Jason clenched his jaw, his breath coming out in ragged, uneven gasps. His heart slammed against his ribs as guilt and fury warred inside him. His hands, hands that had broken men, hands that had torn Gotham’s underworld apart, could do nothing but hold onto the only two people in the world who had ever made him feel like he was worth something.

But what was he worth now?

What good was he if he couldn’t even protect the people he loved?

Jason let out a shaking breath, pressing a kiss to Aria’s head, squeezing his eyes shut as he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

He never should have stayed.

***

Jason kept his head down as he exited your hospital room, feeling his heart break under the weight of his own resolve—to stay away from both of you.

He spotted his father waiting at the reception, handling the paperwork and payment. As much as Jason felt like the lowest he had ever been and didn’t want anyone to see him like this, he was a little relieved. At least Bruce was here. At least he could leave knowing you were taken care of. He could go home, lock himself in his apartment, and spend the next few weeks trying to forget you. Trying to convince himself that he had been an idiot for ever thinking he had a place in your family.

Because thanks to him, your family had almost been destroyed.

With his head down, he walked up to Bruce, hands stuffed in his pockets. His father gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, but Jason didn’t want to talk. If he opened his mouth now, if he let himself breathe wrong, he knew the lump in his throat would break, and the tears would come pouring out.

"Daddy!"

The sound of Aria’s voice snapped his head up just in time for her to crash into him, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck in a desperate grip. Before he could even think, he was holding her, hugging her tight, feeling her little body shake.

"Daddy, don’t leave! Mommy and I need you! Please don’t go!"

Jason looked at her tear-streaked face and felt something deep inside himself crack. He beat himself up for even considering walking away. How could he? How could he leave while you were still lying in a hospital bed? How could he abandon Aria when she needed him most?

His baby girl.

She needed him. And the truth was—he needed her just as much. He needed both of you.

Right then and there, he made a promise to himself. He would protect you both more than anything. He would love you both more than anything. And he would stop at nothing to make sure you were happy and safe.

Pressing his nose against Aria’s wet cheek, he kissed away her tears, "I’m not going anywhere, princess. Daddy’s not going anywhere."

He stole a glance at Bruce, who gave him a small smile and a nod. With a steadier heart, he carried Aria back to your hospital room.

The second she saw you, Aria gasped, "Mommy!"

You gave Jason a tired smile from your place on the bed, the cut on your lip making it painful to do so, but you still reached out for his hand.

"I thought you would’ve left, wallowing in your guilt. Your masochistic streak and all that," You teased softly.

Jason let out a shaky breath, giving you a glassy-eyed smile before pressing another kiss to Aria’s temple.

"Our girl knows how to keep me grounded."

You grinned at that, exhaustion clear in your features but warmth shining in your eyes.

"She’s her father’s daughter, alright."

***

State of New Jersey Department of Family and Child Services Official Adoption Certificate

This document certifies that on 17/03/2025, Jason Peter Todd has legally adopted Aria (L/N), hereafter known as Aria Todd, and is recognized as her father with all parental rights and responsibilities.

Adoptive Parent: Jason Peter Todd Child’s Name (Amended): Aria Todd Birth Mother: (Y/N) Todd Previous Father Listed: Red Hood (Alias) — Amended

Additional Comments: "I’m not the stepdad. I’m the dad who stepped up." — Jason Todd

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

@el-hrts

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ysaefinn · 4 months ago

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Pairing: Dilf!Satoru Gojo x gn!reader x Dilf!Suguru Geto

Synopsis: you try being sneaky behind your boyfriends' backs. But they're dead set on pampering you.

Good riddance.

You feel like ripping your hair out. The Zoom meeting has been going on for what feels like forever now. You've already told the interviewer everything he needed to know, your educational detaile, your degree, your previous experiences in the work force, and even your living arrangement for whatever fucking reason. So why on earth is he still running his mouth?? The ache in your cheeks from holding that tight smile makes you begin to regret applying for the job in the first place.

"You know you don't have to do this." And you do know,"we take care of you just fine, don't we?" And they do,"please, you stress yourself enough with school. You have enough on your plate already." And you do "Awe baby, just let us take care of you." and you should, but you just wouldn't fucking listen huh?

Your married boyfriends hate to see you like this. Don't get it twisted, they find it endearing the way you just don't seem to be able to sit still, how you just have to be doing something to contribute. But you just love taking it too far, working yourself to the bone, burning yourself out. Something the two middle aged men just can't have. And so, Suguru and Satoru have taken it as their mission to turn you into their spoiled little baby, a tiny little kitty in their palm, ever since they lured you into their marital home with charming smiles and hot meals.

The interviewer's words fade into the background as more and more doubt begins to cloud your mind. Realistically speaking, you really aren't in nee-

"Oh? what do we have here?"

You freeze.

But a pair of strong muscular arms wrap around your own, warming you right back up, you recognize that teasing tilt of tone anywhere. Lost in your own thoughts, you haven't been able to catch Satoru make his way into the room you swear you locked, and pull you into his embrace, your back pushed against hid soft plush chest.

"We talked about this didn't we? I can't believe you would go behind our backs like this? Im so disappointed~"

And usually, you'd laugh, kiss his cheek, tell him to stop being so dramatic, or even play along if he's lucky. But not when you've been caught red-handed, not when you've promised them time and time again that you'd take better care of yourself, and not when you've been pushing this interview around for when they both would be at work, and definitely not with your camera still on.

"U-uh satoru..." Said man responds with a hum against the back of your head in between gentle feather-light kisses.

"I'm uhm...in the middle of something....as you can see"

A second then two pass before he takes his face off of your hair. You can feel his piercing blue gaze burn the back of your head before he bursts into laughter. You shrink and curl back into him further.

"Awh sweets, the audaci-"

"Easy, Satoru. No use in being mean, you know our little angel just can't help it"

Your stomach drops to you ass once you register your other boyfriend (who's also your other boyfriend's husband)'s voice. Satoru rests his chin on your shoulder before pouting childishly.

Once again, your camera is very much still recording.

Suguru is leaning against the frame of the wide open door, a fond little smile on his face. And all hope is thrown to the wind. You may have had a chance at escape with Satoru, but definitely not with his husband. The feeling of hopelessness intensifies when the long haired man stands up straight and makes his way to you with purpose.

Suguru carries himself with the same elegance that caught your eye the first day you've met, a select few gray strands catch the sunlight making his black locks almost seem bejeweled. His hand comes down to ruffle his husband's hair and then to pinch your cheek affectionately before taking your unoccupied side. Effectively adding more fuel to the fire. Your hands fly to hide your flaming hot face, and your men share a look of amusement.

"Aww sweetie, come here." And of course. he wouldn't be Suguru if he didn't jump at the chance to coddle you in his own arms. "i know, i know... all of this work business must be stressing you out to no end," he noses at your temple, then moves to smear a long chast kiss on your cheek.

Maybe it's out of consideration for your rapidly beating heart. Maybe he thinks it's something only you should have the privilege to hear, either why you're thankful the next words came in the form of a whisper againt your cheek.

"But that's why you have us, right? We'll handle everything. You can just be our little one, wouldn't that be nice?"

And you nod, you actually nod. Can you believe that? That's all it took. Being sandwiched between the couple, a few kisses here and there a gentle whisper and you're once again swept off your feet.

"Why do you have to be this waaaayyy..." your muffled whining only serves to endear them, a big hand travels under your shirt to rub soothing circles on your back.

"It's for your own good" Suguru is yet to drop the soft cooing.

"And you do it to yourself!" Satoru is yet to drop the teasing.

You're reminded of two big happy cats when they start rubbing their cheeks on either side of your face, it's pretty impressive how synchronized they can be sometimes, yet again, you suppose it just comes naturally after a decade of marriage.

"..excuse m-" "You're excused!" Satoru quickly shuts your laptop. Effectively interrupting the interviewer, almost out of fear of an impromptu change of mind from your end, you can be quite stubborn, something they're working on correcting as well.

The embarrassment doesn't get a chance to sink in before Suguru scoops you up in his arms, eager to mother you as per usual.

"You've barely eaten anything for breakfast, you must be starving.. our poor baby..."

And your brain is melting again.

Maybe another day of unemployment wouldn't kill you.

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mereyapalais · 2 months ago

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Hey y’all, just a small fun fic with stack. Based on the tiktok prank “Calling your man your current boyfriend.”

Modern Stack X Reader

Warnings : Slight choking? Fluff?

One thing you loved more than anything was to get on Stacks nerves. It was your duty to keep him on his toes.

Today, you decided to get on his nerves. Why? Because it’s been a long time.

You were taking a video on your phone for your Instagram and tiktok , doing a fit check. You had a date today. After a few days of being busy, you could finally spend an evening together.

“Okay so I got this little dress from a thrift store. Y’all is it me or these thrift stores getting a bit expensive?” You said as you turned around admiring your shape.

You sure were blessed. The dress hugged you in all the right places. The heels you had on made your ass seat real good in the dress.

Hair on point. Makeup on point. You could hear your man coming in the room. Just from his pace your could feel his irritation as he made an entrance in the room

“Yo, what’s taking you so long baby.”

“Almost finished!”

“Damn, you look good mama!”

“Thank you papa.”

“This dress on you..shit”

His hands kept rubbing on the fabric especially on your backside. Fluffing the dress down.

“You sure it’s not too short?”

“Baabee” you whined

“Can you even bend down in this shit?” He was inspecting the dress, tugging at it like someone’s parents.

“Bend down lemme see sum”

“Stack stooopp. The length is fine.” You humoured him though. Turning your back on him.

He pressed in the middle of your back urging you forward. You let out a small giggle before bending down sensually looking back at him.

“Is that okay baby?” You asked batting your eyes at him.

“Yeahh, that’s perfect.” By now, he was palming your ass through your dress. Some sinful thoughts going through his head.

“Lemme throw some one’s on you. You’re so sexy it don’t make any sense!”

As you were down there an idea popped in your head. Your trouble light going ding ding ding.

“Okay now, your turn show us your outfit.” You said getting back up. Trailing your manicured fingers, that he definitely paid for, down his chest. Stack loves him some sexy, well maintained nails. That crimson red with the first letter of his name on your middle finger, he loves that!

“What outfit? Im just wearing a pair of pants and a shirt. You’re the show stoppa with your fine self.”

“Babe come on.” By now your fingers were toying with his chin hairs.

You turned to the camera, “Y’all, look how good my current boyfriend looks. Babe show them the outfit.”

The way his smile dropped had you rolling on the floor laughing in your head.

You had to bite your lip to stay in character.

He stayed silent a few seconds as if to digest the information. He looked at you, the camera, then you again.

“Watchu say?”

“I said you look good baby, matching my-“

“Nah what the fuck is a current boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“Huh!?” He mocked you “if you can huh you can fucking hear.”

“Babe why you so pressed?”

“Ain’t no current boyfriend shit going on here. I’m yo fuckin husband you hear me?” By now, his hand was wrapped slightly on your neck. His eyes staring down at you with a crease in his forehead. No matter how disturbed he looked you didn’t want to stop.

“I mean, I don’t see no ring on my finger” you said coily. Lips forming a pout.

“Okay.” One minute you were standing on your two feet. The next minute your head was dangling upside down.

“Oh my god Elias put me down!”

He acted as if he couldn’t hear you. Taking long strides outside the bedroom.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To the jeweller”

“Babe it was a prank! Put me down!” Your hands were hitting his back slightly. Being the trouble maker you are, your hands found their way on his buttocks as you gripped them.

Now in the leaving room, he plopped you on the couch. Good thing the cushions were bouncy.

“Whatever other nigga that’s talking to you right now you better dead that shit. Matter of fact what’s his name?

“W-what? Baby there’s no one else it’s a joke chill.”

“Play too fucking much.” He mumbled as he watched you laugh. “Ain’t shit funny. Imma make this shit hilarious and the only one laughing will be me.”

“Babe, are you angry at me?” He looked big mad. You couldn’t help but bust out laughing even more. That got him even more tight.

He took a seat at the end of the couch as if to get far away from you. Scooting closer to him, you settled yourself in his lap. Throwing your legs on either side of him.

“My big baby. You know I’d never do you like that.” Placing small pecks all over his face. Yiu nestled his head on your chest. He loved that shit, as you rubbed on his head.

You could still hear him mumble about how you like playing too much and you gon make his blood pressure rise with your silly games.

“Imma buy you a necklace with my name on it. Just watch. And you’ll wear it every day.”

“Okay baby.” You said as you kissed his forehead.

“You gon be my wife.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. But you answered anyway.

“Yes baby.”

You stayed put like that a few more minutes, you babying Stack and basking in it before finally heading to your destination.

#smokestack twins #sinners #smoke and stack #sinners fanfiction #smoke moore #stack moore #michael b jordan #black reader #sinners x black reader

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veichua · 2 months ago

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𓂃 cherry saviour

loser!ellie x reader — the first time ellie kissed you was because of your cherry flavored chapstick.

cw. weed. guarded feelings. yearning. first kiss. sensual tension.

ellie is never one to show emotions, always the same awkward ellie you’ve known since you rolled into jackson.

she’s your chill smoke buddy, the one you share blunts with in the dead of winter, huddled in her drafty garage, passing stories about the day’s bullshit.

but tonight, as the snow piles up outside, ellie’s not really listening to your words, her eyes keep drifting, catching on your lips, and every time she takes the blunt, her lips linger, savoring the faint cherry chapstick you left behind.

“so, get this.” you say leaning back. “joel caught me sneaking extra bread from the mess hall, and he’s all.. you gonna share that? like, dude, you’re not my dad.” you laugh, shaking your head, but ellie’s response is a half hearted chuckle, her eyes on the blunt as she brings it to her lips.

“yeah, joel’s a nag.” she mumbles, inhaling slow, too slow, her lips pressing longer than necessary, like she’s chasing something more than the weed.

she exhales, smoke curling up, and passes it back, her fingers brushing yours, lingering a second too long, you catch it, the way her gaze flicks to your mouth, quick and guilty, before she looks away, fidgeting with her sleeve.

“you even listenin?” you tease, taking a drag, your voice playful as you blow smoke toward her, watching it swirl in the cold air. “or you just high already?”

ellie snorts, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flush, barely noticeable in the dim light. “im listenin.” she says, too quick, her voice a little rough.

“just… distracted, i guess.” she scratches her neck and you grin, nudging her knee with yours. “distracted, huh?” you say, smirking, passing the blunt back. “what’s got you so spacey, williams? got a crush or somethin?”

she tenses, her fingers fumbling the blunt. “fuck off dude.” she mutters, her lips twitching into a shy smile as she takes another drag, her lips lingering again tasting the cherry chapstick.

she exhales, slow, her eyes flicking to yours holding a beat too long, you lean closer, your voice dropping. “you keep hoggin’ that blunt.” you say tilting your head, your hair falling over one shoulder. “you tryna taste me thru that blunt?” rlllie freezes, her eyes widening, caught.

“what? no, i—” she stammers her voice cracking, and you laugh loving how she’s tripping over herself. “relax, els.” you say, scooting closer, your thigh brushing hers, the couch creaking.

“im just messin with you.” but you’re not, not really, because you see it now—the way she’s looking at you, all nervous, her fingers twitching like she wants to reach out but won’t, she swallows, hard, the blunt forgotten in her hand, smoke curling up between you.

“you, uh… you wear that chapstick all the time.” she says, her voice low and all hesistant “cherry, right? its… nice.” your heart skips, catching the vulnerability in her words, the way she’s staring at your lips, not even hiding it now.

“yeah?” you murmur leaning closer, your faces inches apart. “you like it, ellie?” she nods, barely, her breath hitching, her eyes locked on yours full of want and fear. “yeah,” she whispers, her voice rough.

“i… fuck, i really do.” she’s shaking just a little, and you feel it too. “can i…” she starts her voice cracking, and you know what she’s asking, know she’s too awkward to say it straight, you smile closing the gap, your lips brushing hers, giving her the chance to pull back.

“yeah, ellie..” you whisper, your breath warm against her lips.

“you can.” she surges forward, kissing you, clumsy at first, all eager and nervous, her lips soft but insistent, tasting like weed and her, you kiss back, deeper, your hand sliding to her jaw, guiding her, and she moans, a soft, needy sound that sends heat through you.

her hands find your waist, hesitant but gripping, pulling you closer, the blunt dropping to the floor. “fuck.” she murmurs against your lips, her voice shaky, breaking the kiss to catch her breath, her forehead pressed to yours.

“you… you taste like cherry, fuck, it’s so good.” she’s rambling, and you laugh, soft, kissing her again, slower, savoring her little gasps.

“easy, els.” you murmur, your fingers in her hair, tugging gently, and she whimpers, her hands tightening on your waist, like she’s scared you’ll pull away.

“you’re doin’ fine, baby.” you deepen the kiss your tongue brushing hers, and she moans louder, a needy, desperate sound, her body pressing closer, the couch creaking under you.

“sorry.” she mumbles, pulling back, her cheeks red, her eyes glassy. “wanna keep goin’?” you ask, checking, your hand on her cheek, and she nods, fast, leaning in, kissing you again, less clumsy.

you shift straddling her lap, your hands in her hair, and she groans, low and soft, her hands sliding to your hips, gripping to anchore herself. “fuck, you’re… you’re so…” she trails off, kissing your neck, her lips warm, and you tilt your head, giving her more. “keep talkin ellie.” you tease and she chuckles, kissing your jaw.

“can’t.” she murmurs. “you’re too… fuck, too much.” she kisses you again.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams tlou x reader #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #tlou2

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rieamena · 4 days ago

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“ AND I HATE THAT YOU'RE SO FAR AWAY ”

kyryll chudomirovich flins x reader | inspired by this song

wc: 1.3k

riea's comments: me and this MANNNN. the devil works hard but writers work harder. i saw this absolute BADDIE and suddenly i wanted to write again! isn't life wonderful? will be pulling for him and varka and im honestly so hyped for nod krai like omg we are so back. the 2021-2022 genshin peak really looks like a molehill compared to the 2025 nod krai mountain!!!!!!! i love you snezhnaya!!!!! also sorry if its bad :(( i wanted to put something out for my newest husband

the lightkeepers didn't get mail often. those who were grateful for their service preferred to leave flowers and other items outside of the headquarters as gifts of gratitude. so when there was a sudden influx of incoming mail, flins was quite suspicious. that was—of course—until he realized that all the letters were sent from the same mondstadt address and kyryll was written on every single one of them. he sighed with a soft smile, tearing the oldest one open.

dear kyryll,

by the time you read this letter, it'll be about a week since you left mond are (hopefully!!!) back home. tell me, has nod krai managed to look any different in a month? i know mondstadt has. first off, now that windblume is over, all the decorations no longer beautify the city!!! its so unfair! i think windblume should be year round! oh, and speaking of windblume. that bouquet you gave me is still holding up! even though experts say that there isn't a stark difference between naturally occurring water and the water hydro vision holders and conjure, i still like to think that watering my windwheel asters with my water magic makes them last longer.

kyryll, how are those wolfhooks doing? i gave them to you right before you left so they shouldn't be wilting just yet… but truth be told, wolfhooks were the only windblume candidate that reminded me the most of you! if you want to see a real flower that i get your vibes from, head to vanarana, sumeru. there'll be a super pretty flower that only grows there!! there aren't many monsters in the area but of course if you ever need any help, call my name and i'll be there to protect you just like old times. oh—got off topic a bit, guess you're used to that now though, huh?

the second thing that has changed about the city is… the lack of you. it was only a month and… maybe i was hoping that it turned into something more than just a vacation, maybe i wanted you to stay here, just for a little while longer whether it be for business or for leisure. i still remember when you said you'd like to go to starsnatch cliff and you whispered a name under the night sky's veil, i've never seen you talk that much at once. sara from good hunter keeps asking about you. it seems that the twice a week produce shipments have gotten significantly heavier once you left. and diona's been more grumpy than usual when she's in the tavern. guess it's because she has no one to talk to while the adults around her all get wasted.

the absence of you is torture, how difficult is the journey from mond to snezhnaya? surely it can't be that hard? but knowing you, you wouldn't dare let me attempt it alone. i won't, okay? i'll just keep writing you these letters and hope that i didn't mishear your address.

come back soon, kyryll. mondstadt misses you.

i miss you.

he could practically hear you saying the inked words to him, voice bright as ever. it's been a few months since he went to mondstadt, the windwheel asters must've been dead by now and he knew for a fact that the wolfhooks were long digested in the children's stomach as they swarmed the man upon his return. he kept a seed though, a black flower pot on the windowsill, a single sprout peaking out of the soil, but the snezhnayan climate might not prove the best for growing mondstadt native plants. kyryll's mind began to drift as he read the letter over and over again, reminiscing the first time he met you.

the journey was long and winding with one too many interactions with people. why was he here again? right. a little relaxing—quote unquote—trip to mondstadt organized by his family to de-stress from lightkeeper duties. the map crinkled under the pressure of his fingers, flins finally saw the city in sight. he wasn't even sure if his family had been so courteous to arrange a hotel accommodation for this impromptu trip—that he didn't ask for by the way. who was going to hold the fort down while he was gone? yes, his younger sisters are very capable but the lightkeepers have gotten weaker over thousands of years of history and their numbers have only dwindled. the chudomirovich family was one of the only clans to stand the test of time, to stay strong throughout the cataclysm and continuous and relenting battles against the abyss. but, when time is involved, everything erodes eventually. the lightkeepers are nod krai's defenders and without one of their strongest, if an attack were to happen in the month he was gone, what would flins even—

"sir, watch out!"

a heavy force pushed him to the ground, disorienting him for just a moment. relaxing vacation, my ass. a blast of hydro energy surrounded the nearby area and he sat up to see you, weapon clad and swinging at the mob of hilichurls, hydro vision glowing. shrieks of death rang out as you defeated the last bit of monsters, their bodies turning into muses of black and dark red ash. claymore cast aside, you ran over to the man from before, hands squeezed on his shoulders and eyes scanning his body for any injuries. "are you okay?! did they get to you? are you hurt? i can heal minor injuries but if it's really bad, i can take you to the church—"

his hands were warm and gentle as he removed yours from his body. you watched as he moved to pick something up from the ground and muttered a quick thank you when you felt the familiar weight back in your hand. "i'm fine. thank you for protecting me." dismissing your weapon, you smiled and said that it was simply your duty as a citizen of mondstadt before asking him if he was visiting. "yes. i'm here on… vacation." that last word felt bitter in his mouth. he was still thinking about the things that could go wrong for the lightkeepers in his absence but when you vowed that he'd reach the city of mondstadt safely, those thoughts ever-so-slightly subsided.

"y'know. i never caught your name." a pebble rolled far out of sight as a result of your shoe knocking against it. the city was much closer now, perhaps a three minute walk away but unfortunately that time couldn't be filled with conversation as this guy next to you was not one for idle chatter. but you should at least know who you're escorting to the city, right?

a couple moments of silence before he said something, "flins. call me flins."

"flins, huh? well," the sky was painted in a beautiful mix of oranges, blues, and purples, as the sun began to set. the main city entrance itched closer and closer and you greeted the two guards with a wave,

"welcome to mondstadt, flins."

the harsh sound of his name brought flins out of his daze, "chudomirovich," a guard bellowed from his office doorway, "someone's here to see you." kyryll nodded as he made quick work of the rest of the letters you'd sent him, putting them in a drawer to read later. however, he felt his heart stop when he smelled the scent of sweet flowers and love.

kyryll rummaged through the letter-filled drawer, not daring to look up at his guest, not wanting to have his heart break a bit if it wasn't who he thought it was. finally—he thought—hands gripping the most recent letter, the date on it just five days ago. he ripped it open, noticed that you skipped the classic letter format opting for two words scribbled in the center of the page instead: i'm coming.

"long time no see, flins."

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y4-mama · 14 days ago

Text

Nice Try, Kent

David!Superman X Reader

Summary: You’re the only one in the newsroom who isn’t fooled by Clark Kent’s glasses — and you’re tired of pretending. A late-night confrontation turns into something a lot more complicated when your favorite frenemy stops hiding.

Content: romantic tension, workplace banter, mentions of fire/rescue situations, light peril (off-screen), enemies to lovers.

W/C: 1.09k

A/N: @foreverchangingmind asked for this under the David Corenswet and I’m not sure if anybody did it So I took it upon myself to write one (“Can someone write a one-shot/fanfic of an frenemies to lovers of David corenswets superman x y/n/reader/oc where they both work in the newsroom and y/n knows clark is superman like how in the sense of the glasses ain't fooling no one? (They are but not y/n) like I get the whole thing behind the glasses but every time I think about it im like "COME ON PEOPLE! HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL!?" and its sort of a "I know you are, I cant prove it, but I KNOW IT!")

You know how people say love is blind?

You’re starting to think everyone in this newsroom is willfully blind.

Because Clark Kent walks in every morning looking like he stepped off the cover of GQ: Superhero Edition, and somehow, people just squint at his glasses and decide, “Nope, definitely not Superman.”

As if the glasses are some kind of invisibility cloak.

As if the 6’4”, broad-shouldered, square-jawed farm boy who types like his keyboard owes him money isn’t the same man who literally flies across the skyline on a daily basis.

And it drives you insane.

He walks past your desk exactly three minutes after you arrived, late, again, with that same sheepish smile and the faintest smell of smoke clinging to him like static. His tie is crooked. His shirt looks like it was thrown on in a hurry. And there’s that telltale smudge of ash near his collarbone, just beneath the loosened top button.

You look up from your half-dead laptop and raise your mug. “Morning, Kent.”

He offers you a small wave and a charming grin, as though he didn’t just sprint in from some mid-air rescue mission.

“Morning, Y/N. You’re early.”

“You’re late,” you say flatly. “What happened? Did Metropolis need saving, or did you just oversleep?”

He pauses, just for a second. Not long enough for anyone else to notice.

But you do.

“I had to pick up coffee,” he says, lifting the offending cup as if that explains everything. “You know, for normal human reasons.”

You stare at him. Then at the cup. Then back at him.

“Uh-huh. Because all 6’4 of you totally just blends in at the local café.” That bashful smile again. The one everyone else swoons over. The one you’ve started to associate with deflection.

“You think I’m 6’4?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kent. You hover.”

He laughs under his breath and keeps walking toward his desk, papers rustling as he passes. You sip your coffee and glare at the back of his head like it personally offended you.

This man. This obvious, frustrating, incredibly infuriating man.

——

You’ve worked with Clark for almost two years.

Two years of "coincidentally" disappearing just before Superman shows up. Two years of returning to the office with smoke in his hair and dirt under his fingernails, shrugging it off like he tripped on the sidewalk. Two years of mysteriously accurate quotes from the Man of Steel and exclusive insight no one else seems to question.

You’ve tried calling him out. Casually, at first. Then directly.

But he never admits it. Never even breaks character. He’s maddeningly good at playing dumb, and the rest of the office seems determined to stay dumb with him.

But not you.

You see the way his whole body tenses when a siren wails outside. How his eyes flick skyward every time a chopper flies overhead. You see the way he knows, before the breaking news alert, before the scanners, even before the cops do, when something’s wrong.

It’s not that you can prove it. But you know.

And you hate that he won’t just say it. Won’t just admit it, especially to you.

——

Tonight, the bullpen is nearly silent.

The storm outside is painting the windows with streaks of silver, the lights inside buzzing faintly overhead. Everyone else cleared out after deadline, but you stayed behind to polish a feature. Clark, of course, is still here too. Typing away like he doesn’t already have three articles queued for morning release.

You glance up from your screen, instinct prickling.

He’s staring out the window. Stock still. Brows slightly furrowed. You know that look. That ‘there’s trouble brewing’ look.

You speak before you think.

“You’re not gonna make it out of here without making it obvious.”

He doesn’t turn.

“What?”

You shut your laptop with a soft click. “There’s a fire in Midtown. Just broke out. I can tell by your face.”

He blinks. “I’m just concerned. As a citizen.”

“Oh my God.” You sit back in your chair, exasperated. “Clark. You are the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not lying,” he insists, glancing at you over his glasses.

“You are literally tucking your tie into your shirt right now like you’re about to rip it off and fly out the window.”

He flushes and quickly straightens the tie. “Coincidence.”

You rise from your seat and cross to his desk, pointing at his collar. “There’s ash on you.”

He pulls back slightly. “I walked past a dumpster fire.”

“You walked in it.”

“Y/N…”

“Do you own normal undershirts?” you ask, stepping in closer. “Or is it always the blue spandex?”

Something in his face changes. He straightens. Not nervously, not defensively. Just stops pretending. His expression shifts into something quiet. Something unreadable.

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” he asks, voice low.

“Because no one else sees it!” you snap. “And it makes me feel like I’m going insane. Like I’m in the middle of reading a loved comic book and everyone else switches up and reads a different issue!”

He watches you carefully. The mask is off now. Not fully, but cracked enough for you to see him underneath. Not Kent. Not Superman.

Clark.

“Maybe they don’t see it because they don’t want to,” he says. “Because if they did… if they really looked… they’d be scared. Or worse, they’d stop seeing me at all.”

His voice is so quiet, it nearly gets lost under the thunder rumbling outside.

You take a step forward. The moment stretches.

“…I see you,” you say, voice softer than before. Honest.

Something flickers in his eyes. Like relief. Like fear.

“Are you scared?” He asks.

“No,” you say, breath catching. “I’m pissed that you think you have to hide it from me.” For a second, neither of you move.

Then he leans in, just slightly, just enough that you feel the air shift. “You gonna write about it?”

“Not unless you piss me off,” you whisper. And then. finally. You kiss him.

It’s not a firestorm or lightning strike. It’s slow. Warm. Familiar. Like something inevitable finally falling into place.

His lips are soft and careful at first, until he realizes you’re not pulling away. Then he kisses you like he means it. Like he’s wanted to for a long time.

You pull back just a bit, breathless. “Still think the glasses are fooling anyone?”

“Just you, apparently.”

You grin.

“Oh, Clark,” you murmur, brushing your nose against his, “you never fooled me.”

A/N: I hope this meets ur expectations, and I don’t know if you watched the movie (not a spoiler don’t worry) but there’s a theory that he has hypnotic glasses. Also did anyone peep the Lo’ak and Tsireya reference I made from Avatar: The way of Water #lovethatmovie

#david corenswet superman #david corenswet superman x reader #david corenswet x reader #david corenswet #superman x reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent fluff #clark kent imagine #clark kent reader insert #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you

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whorelaud · 3 months ago

Text

WRONG NUMBER, LOSER – rafe cameron (2)

a rafe cameron mini smau series

summary Rafe gets tangled in a complex love-hate relationship when shooting his shot at a party, merely for him to end up with the wrong number instead, leading to a new beginning, or so he assumed, unaware of who really was behind the screen; his next door neighbor, whom he'd define his sworn enemy. contains neighbor!reader, enemies (?) to lovers, wrong number trope, mostly texts, sexual jokes, shameless flirting, loser!rafe, jealousy, lots of tension, attempt at humor

NAVIGATION. main masterlist; 01 ¡ 02 ¡ 03

Loser: Aye

Loser: Wsg

Loser: Hello

Loser: Uhmmmm 🫤

Loser: ???

Loser: Did you delete my number alr?

Loser: Am I tripping? Are my messages not going through

You: bro

Loser: There she is

Loser: Hey sugar ;)

Loser: … Did you disappear again

Loser: It hasn't even been a min :(

You: shut

You: up

You: GUCK YOI LIKE ACTUAJLY

Loser: Tf

Loser: What did I do?

Loser: Biting my fingernails why are you edging me

Loser: Mommy I’m scared

You: .

Loser: Oh hey

Loser: You’re back

You: sniffles

You: you just got me scolded dumbass i hate you i hate you I hate You so much

Loser: Huh 😧

Loser: Who scolded you baby

Loser: I’ll kick their asses

You: boiii 🤨🤨

You: Ugh this is so annoying why’d you text me when it was dead silent

Loser: I am so confused rn

Loser: What did I do exactly?

You: Text me

You: i forgot to turn dnd on WAHHH 😭😭😭

You: i was tryna hit now that professor hates me :(

Loser: Oh

Loser: How old is he

You: 54

Loser: Oh

Loser: And how old are you?

You: 20 😊

Loser: Oh

Loser: That’s nice sweetie

You: stop Ohing me

You: it's no biggie hes only 34 yrs older

Loser: Girl he could be your dad

You: good thing he isnt

Loser: Bro...

Loser: This generation dawg

You: why are you judging me

You: god forbid a girl has hobbies

You: How old are you big fella

Loser: Why do you wanna know?

Loser: You interested in me or sum? ;)

You: Die nvm

Loser: No I’m sorry

Loser: I’m 24

You: 👴

Loser: Bro

Loser: Wym by that

You: Nothing old Man.

You: No wonder you Type like That…

Loser: What the hell

Loser: What’s wrong with the way I type

You: Nothing honey you’re Doing Great keep it up 😘

Loser: This is humiliating

Loser: Why am I getting cyber bullied

You: nah you'll be fine

You: taking it like a champ

Loser: Oh… hehhehebeh 😅

You: What.

You: Why are you Laughing old man

Loser: No reason

You: Right…

Loser: Wyd

You: well i technically just got kicked out so now im walking around capmus waiting for my next class

Loser: Seems fun

You: im having soooo much fun thanks to someone 😊

Loser: I’m sorry

Loser: I didn't mean to get you scolded sugar

Loser: Promise I won't disturb you during lesson hours from now on

You: from now on??? YOU PLAN TO STICK ALONG???

Loser: I mean… You haven't blocked me yet

Loser: Taking it as a sign

You: Dawg you're hella clingy…

You: do you not have other ppl on your phone

You: leave me ALONE 😭😭😭🙏

Loser: Nah I like you

You: erm

Loser: Wait

Loser: Not like that

Loser: WAIT.

Loser: You know what I mean right?

Loser: I just think you're funny and cool hahahah

You: mhm…

Loser: Not that there’s anything wrong with liking you of course

Loser: I mean you must be gorgeous

You: How do you know I’m not an ugly discord kitten catfishing you for money

Loser: … Are you?

You: wow okay 🙄

Loser: Just messing I know you’re pretty sugar

You: Quit calling me that

Loser: Why I think it’s cute

Loser: It suits you

You: shut up

Loser: Did that get you?

You: get me as in…

Loser: Idk

Loser: You seem p flustered

You: WHAT

You: i literally just said shut up

Loser: Yeah yeah they all say that

You: ‘they’ referring to the two poor ladies you probably forced into a conversation?

Loser: Hey

Loser: A lot of women find me attractive

You: never said you weren't

Loser: Woah

Loser: Are you flirting with me :D

You: what No

You: We’re talking about conversations you’re the one who brought up being attractive

Loser: That somehow hurt my feelings

Loser: Do you not think I’m attractive?

Loser: Should I just die?

You: k i never said that…

You: i don't know what you look like its as simple as that

Loser: Oh

Loser: Should I doll myself up and send you a selfie

You: No

Loser: What why :(

You: what if you’re ugly

Loser: I am not ugly.

You: everyone is a beautiful tootsie in their mother's eyes

Loser: My mom’s dead

You: Oh…

You: sorry

Loser: It’s fine

Loser: Wyd?

You: walking

Loser: Still? Are you not tired?

You: im exhausted. ive been pacing around capmus for like fifteen minutes ugh

Loser: When does your next class start?

You: 3:20

Loser: What the hell

Loser: That’s an hour from now

Loser: Go home and rest in the meantime

You: that would be even more exhausting

Loser: Is it a long ride?

You: no

You: i have a bitchy neighbor im not risking it 💔

Loser: Again with your fussy neighbor…

Loser: What is that son of a bitch doing to annoy you that much

You: exist

Loser: Oh

Loser: Sue him for existing?? 😅

You: i wish

You: he actually gets on my nerves

You: always so cocky and for what this is why you don't get no bitches cunt

Loser: Hell yeah fuck that hoe why’s he being a bitch 😂

Author – laughing like they’re not talking ab him…

You: IM SAYINGGG

You: You get me thank you

Loser: I actually do 🫤

Loser: I too have a lousy neighbor it’s so difficult dealing with her

You: see now this is something we can bond over

You: you found your purpose loser

Loser: Loser? Hey >:(

You: im starving

You: my stomach just grumbled in front of fine shyt bury me alive

Loser: It’s fate. You’re not meant to be.

You: die are you praying on my downfall

Loser: 🤷🏼‍♂️

Loser: Seriously though do grab a bite

You: ugh i might

Loser: I’ll leave you to it then ;)

Loser: Eat and have fun in class sugar

You: dont call me that

Loser: Sorry baby

You: that too

Loser: Mb sweetheart

You: bye.

Loser: Js accept it next time

You: I am Too hungry to be arguing with you right now. Bye.

Loser: Okay. Bye.

You hearted loser’s message!

a/n hi :p this was fun def took a different approach but i went w the flow so yayyyy!! hope you enjoyed let me know what you think hehe!! ill try working on ch 3 faster these are acc super fun || also sorry for how much of a loser rafe is... i dont talk to men inhate them so im just making him sound like a facebook mom hope you guys dont mind hes just a cute tootsie...

taglist is currently open, feel free to let me know wether you want to be added/removed. however, in order to stay tagged, you must interact with the posts!

TAGLIST @rafeycameronsgf @nemesyaaa @totalswag @vanessa-rafesgirl @enchantingexile @my-name-is-baby @wintercrows @cl4uus @ethanthequeefqueen @emmasclaws @countryclubwhore @drewstarkeyzwhore @davinashifts333 @i-love-gvf @ayy1234567 @kissesandmartinis @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @mariamadison6-blog @harryzcherry @vdotcom

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe smau #obx social media au #outer banks smau #rafe smut #drew starkey #rafe obx #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks #outer banks x reader

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blushhbambi · 7 days ago

Note

i need a full baby trapping fic now

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! ꣑୧ dilf!rafe x reader mdniᝰ.ᐟ babysitter!reader, age gap, p in v, breeding kink, baby trapping, creampie, gagging, housewife kink, tiny size kink, belly bulge, dacryphilia... . ༉‧₊˚. wordcount;¹k a/n this took ages babe im sorry 🤧

there was something off about rafe today.

he rushed you away from his kids faster than usual, his grip on you was extra tight and when he got to kiss you it was bruising and brutal. now he had you all alone and pressed up against the wall, panting like an animal, hunched over you like he could eat you whole, a predator about to devour its prey.

rafe wanted you so bad, so, so bad. he needed to stuff you with his cum and have you crying over his cock. it was like some primal urge. he needed you to be his, officially, and in his head that didn't exactly mean putting a ring on your finger, it meant stuffing you full of his babies. don’t even get him started on how good of a mama you'd be… sure you were a little young but that didn't mean shit to rafe, he'd already seen you coo and care for his kids so well for a paycheck, he knew you'd be better with your own.

now one of his hands is palming the fat of your tits roughly through your flimsy sleep shirt while the other hikes up your thigh. making quick work to reach for your panties from under your skirt whilst stumbling back into his huge bed. when he manages to tug them down he can feel the slick coating them, he groans holding them to his face with a mean smirk.

“this all f'me angel?”

“yeah— mhm—”, you nod dumbly, pulling off your shirt, leaving you bare, all your soft skin on show just for him.

“shit—”, his eyes drop to the fat of your tits like he's already imagining all the ways he could ruin them, bruise and bite and punish your supple flesh.

“you don’t know what the fuck you got yourself into huh?”, he lets out a loud mocking laugh, you're just about to tilt your head, about to blink up at him all pretty like you always do and question his words but he's too quick.

rafe shoves you down harder making you gasp out enough for him to stuff the slick fabric of your panties into your mouth, gagging you and muffling any protest. he can only smirk down at you, watching how you cry out arching and heaving while he tugged at the peaks of your tits with his huge hands. palming them roughly and pinching at your pretty nipples whilst pressing bruising kisses down the soft skin of your neck.

you don't even know what you do to him, he’s hard as fuck imagining stuffing your womb and watching your tits fill out, only giving him more to grope and squeeze at.

“so fuckin pretty—”

he’s a fucking animal, he wants to get closer and closer and even when hes pressing himself between your thighs and forcing them open with the width of his waist, it's still not close enough. you can feel the outline of his cock, thick and hard all pressed into you, but he's patient, he knows to wait and to tease you till you cry.

he starts slowly, smirking over you with that sick curl of his lips as he rubs hard circles to your clit. humming as he feels how wet you are, just from his fingers too, he'll never get used to it. your head falls back as he spreads your slick through your folds and again over your twitching hardened nub.

“so dumb— fuckin’ clueless, already brain dead baby?”

you moan, muffled and desperate against the fabric of your panties stuffed deep into your mouth. your little hands grabbed at him wildly, clasping for something to ground you while he stripped, pulling out his length.

his cock’s so heavy, he rubs the fat tip into your clit, soaking his inches in your glistening slick till you're bucking up into him and your eyes gloss over with need.

“gonna fucking stuff this little pussy—”

“y’gonna take all my cock right baby—? all my cum—”

he's nodding, talking to himself at this point cuz your head’s too dizzy to think straight, to cock dumb just off a few little touches.

“fuck—”

rafe groans loudly as he bottoms out, sliding all of his thick inches in with ease into your slick soaked cunt. he can already feel you squeezing. your pussy walls flutter around his dick like you're already trying to milk him dry. see? even your body knew you had to be stuffed with his cum.

he sets his pace quickly, long fast strokes of his cock pounding into you, all consumed by pleasure. rafe groans louder now, watching your eyes roll back tearily and the drool dripping down your chin as you moan into your own panties, fisting at the sheets desperately. his hands grip your hips tight, lifting you slightly off the bed to hold you up for his pumping cock, watching you squirm around him in tears.

“pussy’s a fuckin’ mess f'me—”

“can't pull out when she's sucking me in so good huh?”

you cant even make sense of his words as he fucks you dumb, his thumb sneaking down to rub tight circles to your clit whole he grinded into your cervix. you're moaning dumbly and solely focused on chasing the high of your impending orgasm.

rafe groans feeling himself grow closer, he leans over you, still unwavering in his pace as your skin presses together. the fat of your bouncing tits pressed against his firm chest as he presses his forehead to yours closing his eyes tight to focus on the feeling of your sopping wet cunt.

he knew you wanted it. his cum, his kids. he could see it already, turning you into a pretty housewife, coming home to your dinner while you pad around all barefoot and pregnant.

“fuck— gonna make you a mommy—”

he grunts roughly against your skin, murmuring wildly beneath his breath.

“gonna breed you… fuck you so hard— shit— gonna be so full of o'me”

“stuff you with all my cum baby—”

“gonna be all mine—”

“little wife full of my babies—”

you can't even process any of his words, he’s fucking you so hard your brains turned to mush. your skin is flushed together and sweaty as you're pressed into the sheets, you feel his palm press against your lower tummy, he manages a breathy laugh, feeling the rhythm of his own cock beneath his hand.

“that's all me baby…”

rafe presses down hard, making you gasp out and gag around your panties, your body shaking against his as he cums suddenly, grunting loudly and his hands squeeze your flesh hard. you feel his hot release painting your insides, stuffing you deep and fucking into your womb through his high.

he keeps fucking you through your own release, listening to your muffled whimpered cries. your vision goes blank and your head’s dizzy with stars as your muscles spasm and shake.

he eventually slows and stays deep inside you as his dick softens in your fluttering cunt, panting against your skin as he comes back to reality.

“did so good—”, rafe whispers wiping back your sweat slicked hair from your face as tugging out your panties from your mouth, tossing them to the side.

“mmph– just keep it all in there baby—”

he shifts tiredly with a grunt, patting your soft tummy. his eyes linger on your belly and he's already imagining it swollen with his babies. you'd be the best mommy he just knows it, and you'd have to stay with him. not like you could handle all by yourself with a baby, you'd have to rely on him.

and rafe liked that idea.

you and him, and a little baby to add to his own, the perfect family. he'd take care of you.

he presses a hard kiss to your mouth as he sees the tired glaze of your eyes, sleep was taking over, he hummed and rested over your barely conscious body.

“dont even know how pretty you'll be all knocked up for me…”

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vivilvr · 12 days ago

Text

Sientate

✧ Pairing: Daniela Avanzini x Fem Reader

Your girlfriend, Daniela, has been spending too much time on these damn games sigh it was time to figure out a way to get her attention.

✧ Wc: 1k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Fluff, Tension, Gamer!Daniela, Gamer!Megan, Established relationship, Self Indulgent, Swearing, live laugh love d4vd live dani, trigger warning: fortnite...

♫ Now Playing: Sientate en Ese Deo ♫

It starts with the sound of gunfire and swearing.

You’d been curled up in the bedroom supposedly reading, but your eyes just glanced over words not actually registering what they meant as your mind was busy just listening to the chaos echoing down the hallway. Every now and then: “MEGAN THERES TWO GUYS ON ME” followed by, “I need shield”

Clearly, she was losing all will to live in Fortnite again.

You stretch and yawn a little too dramatically for an audience of none then pad barefoot toward the living room.

There she is, Daniela, sitting dead centre on the couch with her headset on. Legs slightly spread, elbows on her knees, controller in a tight death grip. Her jeans ride low on her hips, giving you a glimpse of her toned lower stomach although she was sitting down. The big TV bathes the room in a wash of electric light. That tiny furrow between her brows? Pure concentration. Those dimples that make an appearance every time she gets a kill? Pure beauty. Truly a sight to admire.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, taking in the whole scene. She’s wearing your favourite black hoodie, its only half zipped and pushed off one of her shoulders. Underneath it was a flash of red, her Bulls jersey. You can just barely make out the curve of the number on the back when she leans forward, swearing at Megan again through the headset.

“Push them from the right.” A pause. “MEG WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO??”

The blue beanie sits snug on her head, but two blonde curls have slipped free and frame her face perfectly, I mean of course they’re perfect, they always are.

“NOT THAT WAY… we have the same right you dumbass” She sighs. “Im gonna slap you up one of these days watch your back”

You watch her fingers work the controller like it's an extension of her body. She's a little too good at this, looks a little too good too and it’s starting to offend you.

So you make a decision.

You move closer. Quiet. Slow.

“Don't even think about it,” she says without turning.

“What?” you ask, all innocent smiles and hands behind your back.

“I can feel the mischievousness radiating off of you. Back up baby.”

You stop just behind the couch, lean down so your chin rests on her shoulder. “You're imagining things,” you murmur.

“Uh-huh~” she hums, clicking furiously. “Meg, you got any shotgun ammo?”

You let a long, exaggerated sigh flutter against her exposed neck. “I’m lonely.”

“You’re dramatic.”

You stop for a moment just to admire her absently biting her lip. Tension in her shoulders. Barking directions through her headset with a level of urgency typically reserved for people defusing bombs. You kinda wished you could hear what Megan was saying, that girl might be arguably funnier than Daniela. But you would never say that to Dani’s face.

“Daniiii~ give your poor girlfriend some attention~” The addressed doesn’t budge. Shes hyper focused on trying to snipe another duo that was building towards them.

So you take a seat. Right on her lap facing her.

Not gently. Not apologetically. But a full straddle like you’re mounting a motorcycle and she’s the seat. Her whole body jolts beneath you.

“Babe..” she warns, instantly.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

“We’re in the top three.”

You smile only increases as she exhales sharply through her nose. Her arms are pinned a little now, she repositions them awkwardly around your waist as she tries to keep the controller from getting completely wedged between your bodies. You rock slightly in place, letting your hips settle into her lap with just enough motion to make her shift.

“Stop it,” she says, low and strained.

“I’m literally doing nothing,” you reply with innocent eyes and the guiltiest smile on Earth.

You hook a finger into the edge of her hoodie, unzipping and tugging it slowly. She twitches, but still focused. Focus is strong.

Until the hoodie’s off and she’s just in the jersey now, skin warm beneath your hands. You trace the edge of her V-line lazily where the jersey fails to cover, fingers brushing the ridges of her abs. Her jaw tenses like a vice.

“You are so annoying,” she mutters.

“You know you love it”

You lean forward, barely brushing your lips along the side of her neck. Her breath hitches. On screen, gunfire explodes as her poor Deadpool skinned character is hit. (danipool is real)

“SHIT NO! MEGAN I’M DOWN! I’M DOWN! COME REV”

She tries to crawl behind a wall as the enemy trails right behind her, wildly tapping buttons, but it’s over. Eliminated.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Oops.”

Daniela takes the headset off and sits back on the couch like someone just kicked the bucket on her soul.

From the headset you can now faintly hear: “DANI?! What happened?! WHERE ARE THEY? I CANT CLUTCH ON MY OWN.. OH MY GOD THIS GUN IS BULLSHIT. You were fine two seconds ago…. hellooo?”

You can hear Megan on the other end, frantic and confused. The girl went through the 5 stages of grief in the span of 5 seconds. Daniela doesn’t answer.

Instead, she reaches up, presses a button on the side of her headset and the mic light clicks off. Call muted.

Then she blinks up at you, utterly defeated, the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“You suck,” she says.

But she’s already pulling you in. Her hands slide up your back and the kiss that follows is slow, warm, and full of the kind of surrender that doesn’t feel like losing at all. The controller thuds to the floor, forgotten, and her mouth finds yours like you’ve both been waiting all day for this exact moment.

Somewhere far, far away, Megan is still yelling.

#katseye #katseye x reader #katseye daniela #daniela x reader #daniela avanzini #daniela avanzini x reader #meizini #meizini chaotic gamer duo yesyes #fluff #writing #wlw #vivilvr #katseye x female reader

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pupkashi · 10 months ago

Text

satoru comeback truthers rise WHERE IS UR RAGE !!!

youre still slightly shaking, even with one hand in your lovers warmer one, you can’t help but feel the same fear you felt when you saw him laying in two.

“sweetheart” his voice is honey like, smoothing your sore throat as you look up at him, face dirty and scarred. “i asked if you wanna get pho?”

it’s odd, coming back home as if nothing happened. as if he hadn’t just had the battle of a lifetime and almost lost. your legs feel wobbly and that sinking pit in your stomach is back. you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, playing it off as you thinking.

“yeah pho sounds good” you say weakly, not taking your eyes off of satoru as he leads you to the couch. he tries to untangle your fingers from his, stopping when he feels your squeeze harder to keep his hand in place.

he doesn’t say anything, instead ordering with one hand, drawing a soothing circle with his thumb on your hand. satoru can feel your eyes on him, practically burning a hole into his skull with the intensity of your stare. he doesn’t mind, he can’t imagine how you felt, thinking he was dead for who knows how long. god knows what he would’ve done if the roles were reversed.

“ordered it, should be here in an hour ish” he whispers, pulling you close and laying back on the couch. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, careful to not squeeze too hard as he was still sore and bruised.

thump, thump, thump.

the rhythmic beating is enough to calm you for a moment, your hands are less shaky and you feel like you can finally breathe. your eyes shut for a second, only to be met with the scene of satoru laying on ground. your eyes are shooting open immediately, making you sit up straight and giving satoru a once over, relieved to see he was really there.

“hey, im right here” he’s as gentle as ever, hands finding yours and squeezing tight. “im not going anywhere” he’s promises, placing one of your hands over his warm chest, the rhythmic beating of his heart calms you once more.

“‘m sorry” you choke out, wiping your eyes quickly before smiling softly, “was just- it was a lot” you mumble, “i thought-” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, satoru doesn’t make you, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

the two of you stay like that for a while, taking turns holding each other, comforting one another and placing endless kisses on each others faces. it felt like only a moment had passed in comparison to the eternity you felt without satoru.

satoru notices the way your eyes linger on him, the way you’re looking at him every couple minutes as the two of you eat soup in silence. it hurts his heart, seeing you so afraid and traumatized, he wishes he could go back in time and make sure they kept you away from any screens.

the season finale of the show you two had been watching doesn’t matter to you much anymore, barely paying attention to it. your focus is instead on the white haired man laying practically on top of you, mindlessly eating some popcorn you’d made for him.

your fingers are tangled in his hair, somehow still soft despite everything he went through. satoru can feel your eyes on him, of course he can. he wonders if you’re looking at his scarred skin, if you’re too scared to even continue a relationship with him.

“you should shower” your comment is what breaks the silence and interrupts satoru’s spiraling thoughts.

“huh?” there’s genuine confusion in his voice. is that really what you were thinking about? “are you calling me stinky?” he teases, testing the waters.

“grimy, actually” a small smile creeping on your lips. it makes satoru’s heart glow, a wide grin on his lips as he sees your smile.

“your words cut deep” he pouts, quickly smiling again when you roll your eyes at his familiar antics. “even sukuna didn’t hurt me this much” the words make you gasp, smacking him slightly and pushing him off the couch.

“uncalled for!” you laugh, shrieking when satoru stands from the floor and picks you up swiftly. he doesn’t think k twice before peppering kisses over your face and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“now you’re stinky too!” he wastes no time in heading to the restroom, with you still in his arms (hardly putting up a fight). he sets you on the counter softly, bending down to be eye level with you. his nose is only centimeters from yours, and you can’t resist the urge to rub yours against his.

satoru giggles at your action; the noise alone puts your heart at ease, the weight on your shoulders lifted and things felt right.

for the time the two of you are in the restroom life is perfect again. even when satoru takes his shirt off, visibly nervous about the new scar across his torso, you’re too happy to have him there to care.

“you don’t think it looks, i don’t know, ugly?” he’s avoiding eye contact and you can’t help but laugh softly. the sound makes his head snap towards you immediately, relaxing when you take his hands in his and pull him closer.

“you could never look ugly, angel boy” you mumble, kissing his lips. “i think it looks good, actually” you grin, wiggling your eyebrows and making his cheeks flush pink. satoru wastes no time kissing you again, giggling against your lips.

the hot water hits his skin and it feels like a godsend, making hums sigh in relief.

“told you you should shower” you tease, making your lover grin at your words. he waves you off gently, relishing in the feeling. “c’mere let me shampoo you.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, a faint smile on his lips when your fingers scratch his scalp. maybe it’s the steam enshrouding the two of you, or seeing you change into his clothes, or smelling the clean bedsheets again, or being home- regardless of the reason satoru finally feels free.

there’s no stress on his shoulders from the higher ups or his clan, he’s not afraid of his students getting hurt anymore, he’s not afraid of losing you.

“i love you sweetheart” he whispers. you’ve been asleep for a while now, your head on his chest with your arms wrapped tightly around him. maybe it was weird but he didn’t care, he spent the night tracing your features with his eyes, memorizing any noise you made and the way you breathed.

satoru’s eyes watered, grateful to be back home. his eyes wandering to his sock drawer, tomorrow he’ll pull out the small velvet box he bought a year ago.

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

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ineedpaigebuckets · 2 months ago

Text

lovebox

paige buys azzi one of those light up box things... and abuses the shit out of it

it starts with a box.

a tiny, sleek square with a glowing heart on top. matte black, smooth to the touch. it looks unassuming when azzi opens it on a quiet sunday night after practice, still wearing her slides and that giant hoodie paige left behind weeks ago. there’s a note stuck to the inside of the lid. paige’s handwriting—looped and messy, the “i”s dotted with little circles instead of hearts (because hearts would be “too much,” according to her, as if that distinction even matters anymore).

“tap the top when you miss me. or when you want to annoy me. either works. love you loser. –p”

at first, azzi rolls her eyes. of course paige would find some high-tech, long-distance, obnoxious way to make her presence known. the device is called a “lovebox”—how disgustingly on brand. still, she plugs it in next to her bed and pairs it to the app, because even if she’s groaning, she’s smiling too.

that night, it lights up for the first time.

the heart spins slowly, glowing a soft red, pulsing like a heartbeat. azzi’s halfway through brushing her teeth when she sees it. she presses the top gently, and the light slows, stops. the app pings. she plays the message.

“hi,” paige whispers, voice low and close to the mic. “i just tapped mine by accident but now i’m thinking about you so. not really an accident, huh?”

a beat of silence. then—

“god, i miss your stupid face.”

it’s ridiculous. it’s cute. it’s paige.

⸻

by the end of the first week, azzi wants to toss the box out the window.

not because it’s bad. because paige uses it constantly. she taps it at 2 a.m. she taps it before games. she taps it from the grocery store.

“i’m in the cereal aisle and i can’t stop thinking about how you eat cheerios like a psychopath with no sugar.”

“how are your ankles today? did you ice them? i will call your trainer and tattle.”

“this girl said something dumb and i almost said ‘my girlfriend’s smarter than you’ out loud. anyway.”

azzi rolls her eyes every time. but she never taps back angrily. never unplugs it. she listens to every single message, even when she’s pretending not to.

like wednesday night.

she’s on her back in bed, scrolling through tiktoks she won’t remember in five minutes, when the heart on the box starts beating again. slow, steady.

she exhales. waits two beats. then taps.

“i think i left my water bottle in your room.”

a pause. a breath. then softer:

“i also think i’m kind of in love with you, but like, aggressively. like i’d fight god for you. anyway. goodnight.”

azzi groans and shoves her face into a pillow, grinning so hard it hurts.

⸻

she doesn’t respond with words right away.

instead, she starts using the box as passive-aggressive revenge. taps it during paige’s morning classes. sends nothing. no message. just taps. sometimes three in a row. sometimes five. until paige texts her dramatically:

“are you dead or bullying me or both.”

“yes,” azzi replies.

but paige figures it out quickly. because of course she does. so the next message is drawn out and deliberately obnoxious.

“good MORNING, azzi fuddddddd. it’s 8:41 a.m. and i just had an iced coffee and a weird croissant thing and i love you and im cold i can’t feel my hands. anyway. love you. love you. love you. love you.”

azzi’s freshman roommate glances up from her laptop. “is that… the little box again?”

“yes,” azzi mutters, pressing the top to stop the flashing heart. “she thinks she’s funny.”

“is she?”

“god, yeah.”

⸻

some nights, it’s not a joke.

some nights the message comes through quiet and tired, like the world’s been too loud all day and paige just needed to whisper something into the dark.

“i had a weird dream. you weren’t in it and it felt wrong. anyway. hope you’re sleeping okay.”

or:

“i saw someone who looked like you today. i got excited for no reason. i just really, really miss you.”

or, one time:

“i can’t breathe when you’re not around. that sounds dramatic. but i promise it’s not.”

on those nights, azzi holds the box in both hands like it might disappear. she still doesn’t always know what to say back. sometimes she just taps it. sometimes she leaves a message back that’s mostly silence, just the sound of her breathing. one time, she reads a bible verse paige used to like. another time, she just says:

“i miss you too baby.”

⸻

there’s a stretch of days in february where they’re both too busy to talk more than once a day. games. travel. midterms. the box goes dark for almost forty-eight hours, and when it finally lights up again, azzi feels a strange jolt—like her ribs just remembered how to move.

she taps the box. plays the message.

“i don’t know how to talk about things sometimes when you're not around,” paige says, voice hoarse and sleepy. “but the way this thing lights up? it feels like you’re real again. like you’re here. i don’t know. i’m being weird. i just miss you more than usual tonight.”

so azzi sends one back.

“i love you,” she says. no pause, no joke. just that. “i love you, paige.”

she watches the heart dim down.

⸻

spring break comes early that year.

azzi doesn’t tell paige she’s flying in.

she just shows up outside her appartement with a duffel bag and a hoodie two sizes too big. paige opens the door with sleep in her eyes and a banana in one hand, and for a second all she can do is blink.

then—

“no way,” she breathes, and drops both the banana and her pride. launches forward, arms tight, lifting azzi off the ground like she weighs nothing.

they stumble back into the room, laughing and half-crying. azzi presses her nose into paige’s neck. whispers, “thought i’d deliver the next annoying message in person.”

paige grins against her temple. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

paige pulls back just enough to look at her. her eyes are glassy, smile lazy and soft. “i missed your stupid face.”

“shut up,” azzi mutters, but she’s laughing.

later, when they’re tangled on paige’s twin bed, their legs overlapping and a shared hoodie pulled over both of them like a tent, the little box lights up again.

azzi reaches to tap it, but paige grabs her wrist.

“wait,” she says. “just… let it play.”

the spinning slows. then—

“i think when you’re in love with someone, the way i am with you, every stupid little thing becomes a love letter.”

azzi turns to look at her. paige doesn’t meet her eyes. she’s staring up at the ceiling, cheeks pink.

“you recorded that days ago,” azzi says.

“yeah.” paige rubs the back of her neck. “figured i’d queue it up. just in case.”

“in case what?”

paige finally looks over. her voice is barely a whisper. “in case you forgot that like... maybe you said you'd come see me during spring break a few months ago.”

azzi’s face softens.

she kisses her. slow. careful. like every tap of that glowing heart has been leading here.

“i’d never forget,” she says. “even if you weren’t annoying me with that box every night.”

paige snorts. “you love it.”

“i tolerate it.”

“you love me.”

“unfortunately,” azzi says, smiling into her shoulder. “yes. unfortunately, i really, really do.”

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paucubarsisimp · 26 days ago

Note

Heyy queen, not sure if your taking requests atm but would you be open to doing the ‘current boyfriend’ tik tok trend with the Barca boys??

Love your work xx

current boyfriend

pairings: pablo gavi x reader,, pedri x reader ferran torres x reader, pau cubarsi x reader, hector fort x reader, alejandro balde x reader, lamine yamal x reader, marc bernal x reader

summary: in which you do the current boyfriend trend on your boyfriend

warnings: none!

pablo gavi

you’re tucked against pablo’s side on a rainy afternoon in barcelona, his hoodie drowning you, your legs tangled with his under the blankets. the soft hum of the tv plays in the background, some old barça match he keeps watching like he doesn’t know how it ends.

he’s got his phone resting on his stomach, barely paying attention. you, on the other hand, are holding yours up sneakily — recording already.

you glance at him, then at the camera, trying not to smile.

“vale,” you whisper to yourself, clearing your throat dramatically. “hi everyone! so today we will be seeing how well my current boyfriend knows me.”

pablo’s head turns so fast you nearly drop the phone.

“¿cómo que novio actual?” he says, brows furrowing, voice full of dramatic offense. “perdona?”

you can’t help it — you burst into laughter.

he sits up, pushing the blanket off his chest like he’s ready to fight an invisible threat.

“actual? like… like i’m temporary?” he blinks, eyes wide. “so what am i? a trial version?”

you’re giggling uncontrollably now, clutching your stomach as he starts pacing the end of the bed like a man betrayed.

“ah, i see. this is why you didn’t want me to meet your tía at easter. you were planning my expiration date.”

“pablo!” you squeal, still laughing, “it’s a tiktok trend!”

he stops mid-step and looks at you, dead serious. “you think trends will save you when i’m heartbroken? huh?”

you fall back onto the bed in tears (from laughing), and he finally cracks a grin. crawling back over, he snatches your phone and flips the camera around.

“listen,” he says, addressing the imaginary audience with one hand around your waist, “i am not her current boyfriend. i am her only. su único. por siempre.”

you try to roll your eyes but he kisses your cheek dramatically, then mumbles into your skin:

“y si algún día dice que me va a dejar… no va a poder. porque ya la puse en el grupo familiar.”

“you added me to the family whatsapp, pablo. that doesn’t make us married.”

“sí que sí. you’ve seen the memes. it’s forever now.”

you look at him, still flushed from laughter, and suddenly he’s soft. less chaotic. just him. warm brown eyes, a slightly crooked smile, and the way his thumb brushes against your hip like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

“oye,” he says, quieter now, “if i was actually your current boyfriend… would you tell me if you were planning to replace me?”

you blink. he’s joking, but also kind of not. there’s a flash of real feeling behind his teasing.

you lean in and kiss him, slow and certain.

“you’re not my current anything, pablo,” you murmur against his lips. “you’re my always.”

he exhales like he’s been holding that breath for years.

then — with zero warning — he grabs the phone again.

“and that’s how you win, chicos. take notes.”

pedri

you’re curled up on pedri’s bed, face half-buried in his pillow, phone in one hand, feet nudging at his side. he’s sitting up next to you, back against the headboard, scrolling aimlessly through some article about barça tactics like it’s the most thrilling novel on earth.

he doesn’t notice you start recording. not at first.

you turn the camera toward the two of you, face blank, voice casual.

“hola chicos,” you whisper. “today im here with my current boyfriend.”

his head turns so fast it’s like he heard a whistle blow.

“¿qué?” pedri says, blinking. “current boyfriend?!”

you turn to him, eyebrows raised like you’ve just been asked what 2+2 is. “yeah?”

his mouth opens. closes. opens again. he looks genuinely stunned. like he’s been called offside while standing still.

“‘current boyfriend’?” he repeats slowly, like he’s trying to translate it into something that makes sense. “me estás vacilando, ¿no?”

you furrow your brow, all wide-eyed innocence. “what? that’s just… what people say.”

“no, it’s not,” he says, staring at you like you’ve personally rewritten the dictionary. “that’s what you say when you’re... i don’t know. rotating the squad.”

you blink. “rotating the squad?”

“like you’ve got backups. a bench.”

you gasp. “you think i have backup boyfriends?”

pedri folds his arms across his chest, staring you down. “well. apparently i’m the current one, so.”

“pedri,” you giggle, crawling over to him. “you’re being silly.”

“am i?” he says, fake offended. “who’s next, then? ferran? ansu? don’t lie.”

you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “hmm. héctor.”

“wow,” he says. “so you’re into the young guys now. okay.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, still recording. he stays frozen, arms crossed, pretending to be emotionally wounded.

you poke his cheek. “you know i’m joking, right?”

“don’t talk to me,” he mutters, nose scrunching as he hides his smile. “i need to reevaluate my relationship status.”

you kiss his jaw softly. “you’re not my current boyfriend.”

he perks up slightly. “no?”

you shake your head sweetly. “you’re my favorite one.”

his face drops again. “that’s worse.”

you laugh, full-on now, as he reaches over and tries to snatch your phone.

“delete it,” he says, but he’s grinning. “delete it or i’m telling your mom you bullied me.”

ferran torres

you didn’t mean to prank him.

well. okay. you kind of did.

you’d seen the “current boyfriend” videos all over tiktok lately—girls casually calling their long-term boyfriends “my current boyfriend” and capturing their reactions. most of them blinked. some looked offended. some acted like it was the end of the world.

you had a strong feeling ferran would fall into the last category.

he was in your kitchen now, quietly snacking on cereal out of the box, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, hair still messy from his post-training nap.

you turned your phone to selfie mode and whispered, “okay guys... this is my current boyfriend.”

you angled the camera toward him.

ferran looked up, mid-chew. smiled automatically—then blinked.

“…wait.”

he squinted.

“current?”

you bit your lip, trying not to smile.

he slowly lowered the cereal box like it was suddenly very heavy. “what do you mean current, cariño?”

“you know,” you say, way too casually, “like… my boyfriend for now.”

he tilted his head, fully confused.

“for now??? am i... am i on a trial period or something?” he blinked. “is there a deadline?? did i miss a meeting???”

you cracked, laughing into your sleeve.

ferran pouted. properly pouted. full lips pulled down, forehead creased, arms crossed loosely in front of him like a kicked puppy.

“wow. i was gonna share the cereal with you,” he muttered.

“you never share cereal with me.”

“yeah well. current me was about to.” he glanced at your phone. “are you recording this?? oh my god.”

you put your phone down and walked over, wrapping your arms around him lightly. he didn’t hug you back immediately. just stood there, all soft and betrayed.

“you know you’re not just my current boyfriend, right?” you said into his hoodie.

he was quiet for a second. then—

“…okay but like. just to be clear. i’m the final boyfriend? like. endgame? credits roll?”

you smiled into his chest. “final boss.”

he let out a tiny sigh of relief, rested his chin on your head, and mumbled, “okay. but no more ‘current’. i almost had a heart attack. i thought i got dumped mid-cheerio.”

pau cubarsi

you were half sprawled on the couch, bored, lazy, and dangerously close to falling asleep, when your phone buzzed with yet another “current boyfriend prank” video.

you’d seen like six today, and every time, the boyfriend's reaction made you giggle. confused, dramatic, sometimes genuinely offended.

and now you were eyeing pau, who was across the room trying very seriously to fold laundry—his tongue poking out slightly as he focused on folding a t-shirt into a perfect square.

too perfect an opportunity.

you opened your front camera, hit record, and called out in your sweetest voice, “hey guys, just wanted to introduce you to my current boyfriend…”

pau looked up instantly, soft brown eyes lighting up—until he processed the words.

“...your what?”

you tried not to laugh. “my current boyfriend.”

he blinked. once. twice. his whole expression shifted—eyebrows furrowing, nose scrunching, lips forming the tiniest pout.

“current?” he stood there holding your hoodie like it had personally betrayed him. “what do you mean current, amor?”

you bit your lip, pretending to stay casual. “you know… the boyfriend i have right now.”

he dropped the hoodie. full-on stared at you. “so i’m just a phase now? like… like a monthly subscription?”

you snorted.

“pau—”

“no no. don’t even,” he cut in, arms now crossed over his chest. “what happens after me? is there a waitlist? auditions?”

you couldn’t stop giggling now. he was so serious about it, even as his pout deepened and he looked away like the most offended golden retriever alive.

“i folded your clothes,” he added quietly. “i was gonna make you toast.”

“and i love you for it,” you grinned, putting your phone down and padding over to him. you wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned into his chest. “you know i’m joking. you’re not just my current boyfriend, you’re my forever boyfriend.”

pau looked down at you, still pretending to be mad but already melting. “you can’t just call me current and then snuggle your way out of it.”

“i can if you like snuggles.”

he let out a dramatic sigh. “…i do.”

you reached up to boop his nose. “thought so.”

he finally smiled—barely—but then buried his face in your hair and mumbled, “i’m unfollowing you on tiktok.”

“no you’re not.”

“okay but only because you smell nice.”

hector fort

you’d been meaning to try the “current boyfriend” prank on héctor for days... héctor is chill. confident. annoyingly hard to rattle. but you knew if you caught him off guard, you’d get something out of him.

and today felt like the right day.

he was lying on your bed, arms behind his head, scrolling through something on his phone with his usual “i’m bored but also deeply unbothered” expression. he was wearing grey sweats, socks half on, one of his training shirts, and just existing in your space like it was his second home.

you hit record quietly.

“hey guys,” you said, voice sweet. “just wanted to show you my current boyfriend.”

his eyes immediately flicked over to you.

“...sorry?” he raised an eyebrow. “current?”

you blinked innocently. “yeah. my boyfriend at the moment.”

he let out a small laugh. one of those “you’re not serious” kinds of laughs.

“nah. no way you just said that.” he sat up slightly, resting on one elbow. “you really called me your current boyfriend? that’s crazy.”

you bit back a smile. “what? you are.”

he gave you a look. “babe. be serious. i’ve met your mom. i have a drawer here. i help you parallel park. we’re past current.”

you snorted. “parallel parking makes you permanent?”

“yes.” he leaned forward, still smirking. “also you kissed me this morning and said ‘i’m obsessed with you’ so...”

“i don’t recall—”

“i do. you were wearing my hoodie. looked very in love. kinda embarrassing for you.”

you groaned. “you’re so cocky.”

he shrugged, smug as ever. “i’m your forever boyfriend. you said it, not me.”

alejandro balde

you’d been scrolling through tiktok all day, watching all these “current boyfriend” prank videos where girls called their boyfriends “current” and got hilariously confused or offended reactions.

and then you caught alejandro just chilling on the couch, sneakers off, socks barely hanging on, flicking through his phone with that lazy grin of his.

you smirked.

“okay, let’s see what happens.”

you grabbed your phone, hit record, and with your sweetest, most casual voice said, “hey guys, this is my current boyfriend.”

alejandro looked up instantly, eyebrow twitching. “wait, current?”

you smiled, trying to keep it innocent. “yeah, like, the boyfriend i have right now.”

he blinked, then gave you a mock scandalized look. “current? so like… i’m temporary? a loaner? what’s the deal?”

you laughed. “no! it’s just a prank, chill.”

he threw his head back dramatically. “ay nooo, you’re breaking my heart over here.” then he wiggled closer and poked your side, grinning. “but if i’m just current, does that mean you might get a better one next week?”

you rolled your eyes but smiled. “no one’s better than you, ale.”

he smirked, looking all confident but his eyes softening. “good answer. because i’m staying.”

then he reached over and stole a quick kiss, still grinning. “current? nah. i’m forever.”

lamine yamal

you and lamine had been hanging out all afternoon — just snacks, music, and lazily throwing popcorn at each other while you argued over who had the better spotify taste. (spoiler: it was you, obviously.)

he was lying across your bed now, halfway on his stomach, hoodie sleeves all bunched up, phone in one hand while his other reached for snacks he wasn’t even looking at.

you sat down at the edge of the bed, grabbed your phone, and pressed record quietly.

“hey guys,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice level. “just wanted to show you my current boyfriend.”

you angled the camera to show lamine, still flopped on the bed. he turned his head slowly.

“…your what?” he blinked. sat up slightly. “nah. say that again.”

you smiled innocently. “my current boyfriend.”

he made a face — somewhere between “wtf” and “am i being pranked.”

“current is wild,” he muttered, sitting all the way up now. “you sayin’ there’s, what, a next one coming soon? someone on the bench or what?”

you laughed, trying to stay in character. “i’m just saying… things change, you know?”

“nah nah nah,” he said, holding up a hand, clearly fighting a smile but also a little bit serious now. “you can’t say stuff like that. i do math homework with you. i let you put your makeup on me last week. i carried your tote bag.”

“and i appreciate it, current boyfriend.”

he gasped. dramatic.

“don’t call me that. take it back.”

“you’re so offended.”

“i am offended,” he said, half-laughing. “i thought i was him. i thought i was ‘final boss boyfriend’. this is crazy.”

you giggled and finally leaned in to stop recording, flopping onto the bed beside him. “baby, i’m joking.”

he rolled his eyes but you could tell he was smiling for real now.

“you better be. ‘cause i already planned our next 5 dates and i’m not deleting them.”

you turned to look at him. “you planned five?”

“yes. and one of them includes gelato. you’d regret losing me.”

you laughed again, pressing your face into his hoodie. “you’re ridiculous.”

he smirked, brushing a crumb off your forehead.

“and permanent. don’t forget that part.”

marc bernal

you were sitting on your bedroom floor, half-folding laundry, half-pretending to be productive, while marc lay stretched out on your bed — arms behind his head, legs crossed, watching you with that small, steady smile he always had around you.

he wasn’t saying much, just watching. you knew that look. it was the “i like being here” look. the “i’m too comfortable to move” look. the “you’re my peace” look.

you smirked to yourself and grabbed your phone.

“okay,” you whispered into the mic, “so i just wanted to show you guys my current boyfriend.”

marc blinked. slowly sat up.

“…your what?”

you kept a straight face. “my current boyfriend.”

he just stared for a second, head tilted slightly, his expression somewhere between confused and mildly offended.

“current?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “like... as in, temporary?”

“mhm,” you said, pretending to focus on folding a hoodie. “he’s great for now.”

he let out a short breath, then slowly got off the bed and walked over, sitting down next to you on the floor.

“so when does my contract expire?” he asked, teasingly calm. “or do i get to renegotiate?”

you smiled, finally meeting his eyes. “depends. you offering long-term?”

marc gave a soft little huff of a laugh, then leaned his shoulder against yours.

“preciosa. i already signed for forever.”

you laughed under your breath. “you sure?”

he nodded. “one hundred percent.” then, just a little pouty, added, “but it did hurt. hearing you say current. like i’m on loan or something.”

you nudged his arm. “i was just messing with you. you’re my one and only, bernal.”

he gave a small, quiet grin, and you could tell he’d already forgiven you.

“…still rude, though.”

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted, @landoslutmeout , @meganesanchez, @linnygirl09, @spidybaby,, @vicolette, @bernalswifeyy lmk if you want to be added/removed!

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mona-risms · 1 month ago

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whats goodie gang its the mira headcanons anon. i gotta say THANK YOU FOR THE FOODDD. also im back for more bc i fear your writing absolutely blew me away.

anyways may i request nsfw headcanons for mira w/ an afab reader? and kinda random but perchance could you throw a strap in there somewhere? okay bye (lifts up arms floats away into the sky)

◆ MAIN COURSE: sub!Mira x dom!afab!Reader

◆ TYPE: NSFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None I think??

◆ NOTES: First off I'M GLAD YOU LIKED IT and second off I love her too bro I gotchu 🫡

OH MY GOD. I LOVE YOU. I love anyone who reqs afab reader actually BUT STILL.

Okay. OKAY. First off other people may say that this woman would prefer the dominant role BUT. This is a sub character blog. And I swear I have justification for Mira okay I swear I do

It's the fact that before she got into HUNTR/X, she's never really fit anywhere. Not with people in society, not with friends, certainly as hell not with her family. Before them, she thought that she'd never have a place where she could just.. belong, and honestly something like that can get ANYONE to feel like they're on some sort of constant survival mode as she refuses to let anyone see any sort of vulnerability that they may use against her

But then there was HUNTR/X, the people she considers the family she doesn't even wanna lose, no matter what. And then there was you. You, who gave her the time, the space, the understanding, instead of dismissing her for her unsavoury bluntness or thinking that she was nothing but a very prickly problem

I think your first time together wouldn't be until like. A bit later in the relationship, I think give or take around 6 months. Being in a relationship w her in the first place already means she trusts you more than most, but getting intimate with each other? First of all, an idol's schedule is BUSYYYYY idk if there'd be any time for that kinda thing, especially not when you're considered the Top 1 K-Pop unit. Second of all?

"We don't have to do anything, if you don't want to."

The words barely register in Mira's brain, the sound and sensation of her own heartbeat overrideing any other senses she had. When it does, however, her head snaps to look at you dead in the eyes, having to look up slightly due to your position—she was sat on the bed, with you having slipped into her lap in the midst of a particularly heated make-out session.

"Huh?"

"Your face," you lifted your hand up to tuck a few strands of pink hair behind her studded ear, "you look scared. We can stop."

She felt her heart squeeze, and a tingling heat in her core. It wasn't because of the way you dragged your hand from her ear.. to ghost her jaw.. before settling on her chin as your thumb lightly traced her bottom lip, though it did help a lot. Rather, it was moreso due to the way you had looked at her—years of living like you were nothing but a problematic inconvenience because your presence was too loud, and yet there was just this person who was willing to wait and listen anyway instead of walking away.

You looked at her like she hung the moon, what the hell was she supposed to do about that?

"No, it's--" The idol cleared her throat before trying again, her voice smaller than both of you had ever expected, "I'm not scared, just.. you're not.. going to think I'm too much to handle after this, right? I've never really done anything with anyone."

"Never let anyone get close enough?"

"Fuck you," there was no anger in her words. "..Yeah."

You just let out a hum, as if the two of you were discussing the weather rather than sex. And then you shook your head as your hand then went from her chin.. down to her the middle of her chest, "I'm not going to think you're 'too much', but we both know you'd rather see it than hear it. So." And you push lightly, "Lie down. Let me demonstrate."

A traitorous blush coated Mira's cheeks, the colour visible within the moon's glow. The light push couldn't ever be enough to knock her down, but she let herself fall back anyway, her hair sprawling behind her like a halo.

She finds herself enclosed within your arms a mere few seconds later when you crawl over to hover above the cool beauty, your lover. And in that very moment, when you duck down to trace kisses down her body while clothes are slowly discarded from both of your bodies, it feels as if the two of you are the only people in the world.

"Instead of 'too much'," you continued when you finally reached the apex of her thighs, wet and glistening, "I'll make sure you feel like you're mine instead.

Mira feels as if she really belonged.

Anyway proceeding to the actual NSFW hcs :3

Start off with Mira's part on this post bc I feel the need to address it again thank you

I think she'd absolutely ADORE soft sex actually. Listen throw away kinks for a second, right. She's gone without care for so long just bc her being a 'problem chold' and being outspoken would def equal to not needing any proper emotional care bc why would she need that? Clearly she can handle it all on her own, right? WRONG she actually needs to be taken care of. Finger her while holding her close so that she can cling to you, even after she cums all over your hand

Apart from that though honestly I feel like she'd be into bondage and acting like a brat. There's something about pretending to struggle and resist—emphasis on the 'pretending' bc be so fr all three girls could snap anyone like a Kit Kat bar thanks to their training—that has her thighs squeezing together. It's like a form of reclaiming I guess? Since everyone else thought she was too much trouble, and yet now she's sprawled on the bed and even the punishment for being a bad girl's sweeter than sin for her

Turnoffs........I don't think she'd enjoy titles much, like 'mommy' and such. Genuinely not for any reason apart from she personally isn't into it, which honestly fair enough girl. Idk if she'd enjoy petplay either, or degredation in general—it has her getting her hackles raised so fucking fast. Light degredation woukd be fine, esp when it's later on in the relationship and she 's more than comfortable with you now. But not too much yk

Creamer and someone who's definitely REALLY into overstim. Anyway

Also? A size queen actually 😄

Whenever Mira jokes by going full deadpan, sometimes you can't tell whether she's being serious or not. And that's perfectly fine, because either way it was usually going to end up entertaining one way or another.

You didn't think it'd apply to a talk about dildos, though.

In the midst of aftercare after a particularly taxing session, the lazy topics between you had somehow migrated to the talk of toys; the type the two of you would like, making fun of toher specific toys, and then...

And then there was the sizes.

You brought up getting your girlfriend the biggest, the most monstrous, the most diabolical strap you'd ever find. And her answer?

"Do it."

You really, really weren't sure if she was joking or not.

..Until today, when in the middle of eating her out, she reached underneath her bed just to reveal a blank box that held.. well, the exact thing that Mira's cunt now tried to hold onto despite you pistoning your hips over and over.

It wasn't the biggest, or the most monstrous, but it was definitely diabolical. You had to open her up slowly with a lot of lube, stretching her out with one finger.. then two.. then three, making sure that she could at LEAST take the start. The rest? The two of you decided to work it out as you went. ..Though it didn't feel like there was much 'figuring out' being done, not as if you were complaining—Mira's nails clawed at the sheets as she let out a series of sultry moans and curses under her breath, all while she moved her hips as if she were on some very enthusiastic autopiloting.

Her speech was jagged at best and utterly incomprehensible at worst, but she clenched on your strap as if it were something real—it couldn't even do so properly, not when it was already stretched out as is.

And you could never forget the stunned face she made when you put it on.. and the way her body shook as she came for god knows how many times now as she buried her head in her pillows in an attempt to shut herself up.

JUST SAYING AFTERCARW IS SO SOSOSOSOSOSO IMPORTANT TO HER!!! She gets so endearingly quiet as the two of you just lay there for who knows how long. And she'll also ask if you wanna get anything to eat/get delivered. AND she'll ask you if you wanted anything before she passed out for a nice nap

It just turns into a cuddle sesh and honestly? What more could anyone ask for?

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