#seeing so many of them together makes me wonder if there's a theme
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loki-hargreeves · 2 months ago
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Tag game: Make a photo compilation of your major celebrity/fictional crushes throughout the years. Kind of like an evolution of your blorbos if you will.
I thought it could be fun to see them all together, although picking just a handful of them is hard. Really curious to see your boards if you wanna do this too.💚
I'm exposing myself here but isn't that what tumblr is for?
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I feel like one direction kinda sticks out here but I'll always be a 1D girlie <3 the heavy metal to emo to one direction pipeline is a canon event I fear
NPT: Anyone who sees this!! @ingoldthewizard @missdictatorme @gaitwae @candycorncandle @gemini-serpentis @my-secret-shame @asgardian-viking @lis-dotcom @distracted-milkshake @babiiface95 @soft-girl-musings @nimouette
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pizzaapeteer · 10 months ago
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Summer Afternoon
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a/n: nsfw 18+, public fingerfucking, I kind of daydreamed about this and then just spat these 1k words out asap ​👀🤍
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Vibrant grass tickles your hands as you dig your fingers through it, feeling the nature surrounding you. Your head rests on Mattheo's chest, moving in a lull with every breath as you lay on top of him. Legs sprawled lazily straddling his hips while he rubs a tender hand up your back, caressing the softness of your skin under your school blouse, light feathery touches that send shivers down to your core.
It's always hard to tell if he's doing it on purpose, but it seems to be a common theme with him, as when your back arches, pressing your front more into him, he shifts his hips in a way to reciprocate your movements. His hand slides further down, dipping under the waistband of your skirt, fingers skimming the grasp of your ass that sits swelled against your lacy panties.
He waits, remaining innocent for the moment till he moves his other hand to tilt your head, bringing you in for a passionate kiss. As your lips move together in what seems a sweet gesture is when his fingers dig, grabbing a fistful of your ass and pushing you down on his hardening groin.
It all happens so fast, his lips don't leave yours, his tongue delving further in, making the kiss deeper, eating up every moan that tumbles out of you. His hands thread grasping at your hair, holding you still and hushing your protest at the intimate display of affection. His hips grind, rubbing, pressing his cock sitting tight in his jeans up against the centre of your cunt.
He groans wanting, needing more, and he pulls your hair back, leaning forwards to attack your neck with kisses, a starved man quenching for thirst on this hot day. His lips press kiss after kiss, aggressively sucking and biting, dragging his teeth over your skin like a dog to a bone. He licks over his marks, soothing the broken skin that begins to stain with dark purple hickies, relishing in each whimper.
His hands curve over your ass and around your thighs till they greet your desperate cunt, constraining against the soaking barricading material. “So fucking wet already..so desperate you don’t even care we’re in public, do you?”
Your hips jut seek the friction and filling you badly crave, burying yourself in the crook of his neck whimpering. “Please, Matty-“
He coos mockingly, “yeah you want me to finger fuck you out in the open? That greedy cunt needs to sit on something, doesn’t it?”
His fingers drag teasingly, rubbing up the middle of your cunt over your damp panties, a softness that has your thighs twitching. He smirks, pressing another hungry kiss to your neck, a hand still caressing your hair, making him look like a tentative boyfriend comforting his sleepy girlfriend.
He slips his fingers under the fabric nipping at your ear, he exhales a shaky groan at the wetness that greets him. His fingers press up, delving into the warmth and he tightens his hold on your head, keeping your face smashed in his shoulder, quietening your sultry moans. No matter how many times he does this, his heart races in excitement and desire at how your sweet pussy clenches, squeezes down like a filthy slut on whatever enters it.
“That’s a good girl, now don’t move those fucking hips.” He thrusts his finger repeatedly, the small stretch still making you lose your mind, the heated concept of being fingered publicly, but still subtly hidden from anyone’s wondering eyes. One is not enough, you're craving more, desperate to be filled, stuffed and you ignore him grinding your hips.
He bites the shell of your ear, causing a squeal out of you. It’s a clear warning as he tries to remain inconspicuous, not wanting the fun to be over. “Keep that up and I’ll have your cumming so hard you'll get everyone's attention. you'd like that huh? want them to see how pathetically you're grinding on me, how fucking desperate you are?"
With burning cheeks, you feel thankful you remain tucked in the nook of his neck as his threat pulls a needy whine and you instantly still your hips despite how achy you are. Though Mattheo always one to be a cheeky shit, adds another finger and rubs your clit, testing your limits. He loves the way you're keeping your head down, and only he can hear the frantic, lewd moans spilling directly into his ear.
You’re too perfect, the way he’s caressing your back with a hold that stables you and your hips from moving. He can feel how restless you're becoming, his fingers getting soaked in a sloppy mess, hungrily thrusting in and out of your tight pussy. “You’re close, aren’t you baby?” He whispers so sweetly to you, but these a taunt underlying and it makes you squeeze his digits harder. He chuckles breathlessly, “oh you want it so bad don’t you, yeah gonna cum all over my fingers like the filthy girl you are.”
His fingers decrease their speed on your needy clit when you don’t answer and you lift your head. The sight is heavenly, big weepy blown eyes gaze at him with scrunched brows and parted lips that breathe hot sinful air inhaling straight onto his lips. He groans, biting his lips, “F-fuck you’re such a mess. A beautiful mess.”
The flushness of your cheeks and pleading look makes him want to give you everything you need. The desire within himself growing and his cock twitches achingly, and his determination to bring you every ounce of pleasure grows. He cups the back of your head capturing your lips in another steamy kiss, increasing the pace of his fingers, he rubs maddening circles on your clit.
You moan, tears threatening to fall as you kiss him lustfully, feeling your hips buck your orgasm rising rapidly. Breathless broken whimpers become muffled against his swollen lips as you tip over the edge, and you cum with two deathly grips, one on his arm and the other that rip the grass from its roots.
Mattheo's lips soften, continuing to take your breath away in his ability to switch from feral to sweet. His hold on your hair relaxes, soothingly patting you as if to praise a dog, his good girl. He removed his fingers, pulling them back out into the open. He pulls back to let you breathe, and he groans satisfyingly, replaces the taste of your lips with something sweeter. 
⤷ navigation. ⤷ masterlist. ⤷ mattheo masterlist. ⤷ divider. All work is my own and is not to be copied, claimed or stolen. ©️pizzaapeteer 2024.
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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago
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Hello there!
I’m fairly new to the COD fandom, but have completely lost my heart to those 4 lads already 🥺 Especially, Ghost and Soap ❤️
Anyway, I was wondering if I could request something for your Imagines and What Ifs masterlist? Cause I’ve just been absolutely knackered today! I was at a 30th birthday yesterday and I really only knew the birthday woman, so it was a little overwhelming to be around so many new people and in so much noise for a whole day, because I’m not actually that social or good with people 😅
And I would have loved to have one or all of those lads here to nap with me, cuddle with me and generally just having the laziest day ever today. Maybe one of them would even wash my hair for me later? 🥺
Nevertheless, I was wondering how you see the lads relaxing with their bird or even taking care of her when she is completely knackered, for whatever reason ❤️
I love this, but I’d like to flesh it out through headcanons rather than the imagines series. A cozy day with the guys sounds wonderful, and I love talking about 141 in a soft way. Deadly and dangerous in the field but absolutely gentle partners when they’re home.
Written w/ gn!reader
MDNI (for suggestive themes)
Ghost naps like the dead. This man is a brick when he’s asleep which makes him the perfect body pillow. Whether it’s a lazy morning or afternoon, naps with him are elite sleeping experiences. Since he’s unlikely to move, you can make yourself as comfortable as you want without disturbing his peace. If he wakes before you do, Ghost remains where he is because he doesn’t intend on interrupting your rest. There’s no rush when he’s home with you, and simply having a good cuddle and ordering takeaway to eat in bed makes him happy. He loves lazy days even more when the both of you are naked and curled up together that way he can touch you whenever he wants.
Price’s version of a lazy day isn’t full of naps and cuddles but he’ll do it for you. Lazy mornings are for snuggling and breakfast in bed (made by Price because he won’t allow you to lift a finger.) He will eventually force you out of bed, coaxing you to do your morning routine with him. After that, it’s cuddling on the sofa, maybe a movie or a few episodes of whatever show you’re watching together. You can stay on the sofa all day if you want, surrounded by blankets and pillows. Price might do some work around the house, occasionally checking in for kisses and a quick snuggle.
Gaz takes lazy days seriously. There’s no sleeping away in bed all day with him without a plan. You can be as relaxed and lazy as you want, but Gaz is going to make sure you enjoy every moment. Calming white noise? He’s on it. Meals in bed? Done. Need a cuddle partner? You can have him as long as you need him. If you want to move out into the living room, he’s building a blanket fort on the sofa, or if it’s nice outside, and you have a balcony/patio, he’ll set up a place for you to snooze in the sun. Any self-care is done by him and him alone. You don’t need to lift a finger. He’ll draw a bath, get in with you, and see to it that your hair is washed.
Soap loves a lazy day, and he’ll be more than happy to sleep the day away with you if you allow it. Forget asking for cuddles, Soap will already be reaching for you, wrapping you in his arms, falling asleep again the moment you’re curled up against him. Nothing is getting done, and Soap is happy to move at your pace. If he wakes before you, expect him to remain at your side, playing with your hair or rubbing your back. Of all of them, he’s more likely to be forward with offers of intimacy because lazy sex is his favorite. If hunger is involved, Soap won’t cook, but he’ll order takeaway or bring lots of snacks to bed for you to pick from.
CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist
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sc0tters · 6 months ago
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A Helping Hand | Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras
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summary: when the boys learn that you've never finished, it's only right that they change that for you.
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, threesome, oral (f & m receiving!), unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of drinking.
word count: 7.02k
authors note: is it really a trevor and jack threesome from me, without @sweetestdesire's help? no, no it is not... all jokes aside though this may be the dirtiest piece that I have ever written? like i embraced my inner slut, whore and everything inbetween while writing this so I do hope that you enjoy it! I know I did so we may end up with the first series of the year with this one!
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Nobody truly remembered how you all got there.
Sat around the camp fire with a blanket thrown over your legs and a beer in your hand. 
It was these little moments at the lake house that you adored so much. Luke was in the chair next to you, allowing you to send him the occasional whisper after the boys did something stupid. 
Tonight was one of those nights as Cole managed to convince the group to play never have I ever, after Quinn’s suggestion of truth or dare was quickly shot down by Jack reminder of how he had to go skinny dipping in the lake. When the boys stole his clothes and locked him outside, it was the first and last time truth or dare made an appearance at the lake house.
You sighed thinking to yourself of a question“never have I ever done the walk of shame.” It was a good one to get most of the guys to drop a finger as Luke had told you about many of their escapades throughout their careers. 
A while left Trevor’s lips “that one isn’t fair!” He grumbled dropping another finger leaving him with only two up.
Alex looked at the group of girls that had joined you guys as he had found one he wanted to make a move on “never have I ever faked an orgasm.” The boy swore he was going to do a dance of happiness when he saw the blonde one he had been talking to, keep her finger up whilst the first around her thought about their answers.
Your finger went down hoping that someone else would have a much more interesting story to share than you “are you seriously telling me that your little football player boyfriend was shit in bed?” Trevor asked as he let out a laugh seeing your cheeks turn a shade of red. 
Jack turned to you, matching his friend’s curious expression “who is to say it was even with him?” It was something he had never even wondered about before, but now everyone’s eyes were on you as most of the people around that fire knew of your entire love life “she does not need to answer if she doesn’t want to.” Quinn sent you a friendly smile, Luke nodded in agreement with this being something that he didn’t even know about. 
You let out a sigh of relief “yeah why don’t we move on?” There was a pleading sense in your voice that made everyone accept your request. 
Well almost everyone, as the night went on and people went home or to bed. You were left with Trevor, Jack and Luke “you want another beer?” Luke asked as he got up with his empty beer bottle “please.” You nodded, the older two boys giving the same response. 
This was the first opportunity that they got to truthfully ask the question that plagued their minds all night “so was it Jake?” Trevor blurted out as he turned his attention to you “what about the theatre kid before him?” Jack truthfully never liked that one, thankfully he only lasted one summer. 
You toyed with your bracelet “if I tell you do you promise to keep it to yourselves?” If it got out you knew half of the people there would never look at you the same. 
Hell you weren’t even sure if Trevor and Jack would see you the same way again “we will not tell a soul.” They both nodded at the same time, practically sat on the edges of their seats. 
You let out a sigh, rubbing your lips together “it was all of them.” Those words made them freeze “you faked it with every single guy you’ve been with?” Jack let out a shocked laugh when you nodded. 
Trevor felt confused “I didn’t realise you were with such shit guys.” Some of the guys had notable reputations too “it wasn’t their faults-” you tried to give them some grace within the situation. 
But Jack was having none of it “if you have to fake it then it is on him.” Of course that’s what he’d say, the man prided himself on how good he was in bed after all. You had been privy to hearing the mutters through the wall when you stayed over to see Luke. 
The Ducks player nodded in agreement “we won’t tell them if you think they were shit.” He added wanting so desperately to hear more of this “it’s me okay!” Your words suddenly made them both go quiet. 
Their eyes went wide “I can’t cum so when I have sex I have to fake it.” Your voice was quieter as you didn’t know where Luke was “and before you ask yes I know my body is clearly broken-” you were cut off by the sound of the sliding door opening from the house. 
Luke walked out with the four beers in his hands “what is broken?” The three of you looked like kids caught with your hands in the cookie jar in that very moment “oh just the door of my closet in the apartment.” You quickly recovered, it wasn’t a lie. In fact, it was actually something you needed to fix.
He stared at you for a moment before he nodded “wait until I visit and I can help you.” Luke offered making you nod “sounds like a plan.” You sent him a smile, ignoring the conversation that you had just had with the boys. 
It seemed that even if you were able to sleep soundly amongst all of Luke’s snoring, Jack and Trevor were plagued with thoughts. Neither one could fall asleep as they sat there thinking about what you had said. 
How was it that a girl like you could have a problem that seemed so unbreakable? 
“Just so we’re both on the same page, she clearly has a shit taste in guys right?” Trevor blurted out as he stared at the ceiling “I mean it has to be that right?” He added not even sure if Jack was listening. 
Jack let out a harsh sigh “but how is she going got accept that?” He rolled over knowing that he shared the same thoughts “well I mean there is one way we could do it.” Trevor trailed off figuring, that it was the should have been obvious. 
The Hughes boy let out a laugh “yeah like she’s ever gonna go for that.” He shook his head rolling over to look out the window as he tried to force himself to go to sleep.
A party echoed out in the yard, music blared through the speakers as you made your way upstairs “I’m telling you that she’s not going to go for it.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he chugged back the remainder of his beer “why not?” Trevor whined crossing his arms. 
He took in a large amount of air in when he sighed “it’s not like she exactly has any other better options than sticking to never coming.” Those words made you freeze in front of their door. Why were they talking about you, and what was their potential option to help you? 
Your cheeks grew warm when your mind began to travel “because you think little miss perfect is gonna fuck the two of us to prove that she just has a shit taste in boys?” Those words made you scoff, it was a response that was a little louder than you had hoped when the boys went quiet “shit.” Jack was quick to open the door. 
Both of them were visibly relieved to see it was just you “care to join us?” Jack smirked at the sight of the irritated expression on your face “I am not little Miss Perfect.” You announced sticking your finger in his face. 
It was the response he wanted, knowing you had taken the bait “so why don’t you give us a chance then?” Trevor spoke up from behind the younger boy who nodded in agreement. 
Your fists clenched into balls “over my dead body.” You were embarrassed as you stormed off in the direction of your room “on a scale of one to ten how badly do you think we fucked up?” Trevor asked hearing the door slam behind you. 
Jack sucked at his teeth “I would lean closer to ten.” He nodded thinking about what would happen if Luke were to find out about what was said. 
The night had grown dark as you tried to push the boys comments back to the bottom of your mind. It was something that so negatively failed, especially when you began to picture those two. 
You had ended up in the bathroom having a shower trying to calm yourself down at first “fuck!” You grumbled letting your fingers thrust into your cunt as the steam stuck to your skin. 
Your body had started to shrivel like a prune due to how long you had been in there. Your body was hot as the image of Jack and Trevor lingered on your mind, picturing how they’d kiss you and morph your body in the ways they wanted to use you. You weren’t an idiot, if they were talking about you then it was clearly a competition in their minds. 
The peaks of your nipples throbbed as this clearly wasn’t working. Defeat wasn’t something that you accept gracefully, and that’s why you muttered to yourself as you grabbed one of Luke’s shirts and threw it on. Bringing your panties up your legs as you sent Luke one last look, as if you were checking that he was indeed asleep. 
You had to try to be quiet as you knew that everyone else was in there room, and with the minimal amounts of chatter that came from Quinn’s room when he spoke to his girlfriend on the phone. It was the timezones that caused him to be awake, but you knew you couldn’t be certain about the other rooms “shit.” You grumbled landing at Trevor and Jacks door to see that there room was empty. Their beds were made with their sandals missing, which only meant that they were downstairs. 
It was a lightbulb moment as you practically raced down using the banister as support. Chatter could be heard from outside and that’s where they were “pass me the blunt.” Jack’s voice was soft, muffled by the glass. 
Your feet brought you up to the door as you sighed knowing that beyond this moment if you wanted to turn back, you wouldn’t be able to “do my eyes deceive me or is little Miss Perfect stood in front of me?” Trevor teased, using the nickname that Jack had as his eyes drank in the sight of you. 
Jack could sense you were nervous “why don’t you come take a hit?” He offered holding the blunt in your direction “don’t know how.” You shook your head, making him smirk. 
Of course, weed was something you hadn’t dabbled in, how were they not surprised “I’ll teach ya.” Jack patted his thigh as he spread his legs open for you to sit there. 
He held the joint between his ring and pointer fingers when you sat down “just suck the air in but don’t inhale it.” The middle Hughes boy knew that you weren’t exactly some chain smoker so he had to help you. 
You nodded as you followed his instructions when he brought the blunt to your lips. Both boys watched on when Jack let his hand travel up the inside of her thigh “there we go.” He cooed until you let out a cough. 
It made them softly laugh when you shook your head “never doing that again.” You announced assuming that it would have done something to calm the nerves that ran through your veins.
Jack brought the blunt to his lips “what brought you down here?” He asked looking at his watch, you were usually fast asleep “I couldn’t sleep.” You confessed wanting sigh when you felt the breeze brush past you. 
Trevor smiled at your words “anything particular that brought the late shower on?” It was clear that your hair was still wet as it drenched the back of the shirt that you made into a dress “do you think you guys can really fix me?” The words made the two boys freeze. 
It wasn’t something that they thought you would come around to “because if I have to spend another fucking unsatisfactory night with fingers between my thighs I’m going to shoot someone.” Jack let out a soft laugh hearing your confession. 
He smiled bringing his lips to your cheek to kiss “you gonna be a good girl for us?” He quizzed you, circling his thumb on the inside of your thigh “let us break you?” He added which made you whimper in response.
Trevor almost felt jealous at how far away he was from you “why don’t we move this inside?” His proposal made your head snap in his direction. You seemed to sense where the boy came from “c’mon pretty girl.” Jack patted your thigh signalling to you to get up. 
Jack had never been more grateful for the fact that he picked a room downstairs, which you at the moment seemed to so happily run into “c’mere.” Trevor shut the door behind him. 
He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. A grin plastered on his face as your head tilted in his direction so that he could kiss you. There present taste of beer mixed with the weed on his tongue that he dragged over your lower lip. A moan escaped your lips as Jack placed his hands on your hips “didn’t forget about you too.” you confessed, turning your head so that you could kiss him too. 
It was rougher when Trevor turned his attention to your neck. His kisses were hungry as he sucked at the skin “n-no marks.” You gasped not wanting to worry about covering more than your bikinis already did. 
Jack finally took a step back as he looked at you “why don’t you show us how you normally try to get off?” Jack’s fingers danced over the hem of Luke’s shirt that hung over your knee. 
Trevor nodded in agreement “doll, it ain’t like we don’t see those pathetic bikinis you wear.” His words were sharp, making you listen as you took a step back, “like you want us to know what is under ‘em.” He added, allowing his eyes to burn your skin.
The boys watched in awe as your fingers gripped at the ends of the shirt, you took in a deep breath in like it was meant to give you some newfound confidence. The room grew warmed as you pulled the white t-shirt off of your body, letting it fall onto the floor when you now stood in just a white thong. They both stood in silence, causing you to bite at your lip with your confidence immediately wavering.
You were quick to reach down wanting to grab the shirt, assuming that the boys thought this was a mistake or that you weren’t as pretty as they thought you’d be “let us get a good look at ya.” Trevor’s hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from leaning over any further. 
 A whistle left his lips when you stood up straight “never thought these tits could ever have looked better than when they were in those bikinis.” His voice was a low growl, letting his fingers cup at your breasts before he gave them a squeeze. 
The feeling made a moan get caught in your throat “god imagine what she’s hiding under those panties?” Trevor turned to Jack, not letting his hands move from your boobs that his thumbs began to massage. 
Possibilities felt endless “you wanna let us see?” Jack asked making you nod. Trevor kissed at your neck whilst you locked your fingers into the sides of your panties. 
The fabric brushed against your skin when Trevor looked down to see your bare mound “don’t know how any of those boyfriends of yours used to let you leave them.” He sighed pressing a kiss against your cheek. 
Jack nodded in agreement “if we had a say you’d always be around ready for us.” Those words made you squirm and force your thighs together. 
Neither one of them were an idiot, easily sensing the effect they had on you “can you sit on the bed for me sweet girl?” Jack cooed tilting your jaw up to him so that he could kiss you. 
That kiss helped settle some of your nerves as you nodded. You sat on the edge of Jacks bed “higher.” Trevor motioned to you to move higher up the bed. 
You drove your hips up until you got sat in the middle of his bed “now why don’t you show us how you get off?” After all that was the entire reason that you were there so it made sense they watched you first.
When you lay down on the bed the boys looked at you like you were the sight for sore eyes “c’mon you can show us.” Trevor’s voice oozed this sense of cockiness as he motioned to you to start, brushing those waves of uncertainty aside.
Your heels pushed up to your ass as you spread your lefs open, seeing the boys stare back at you “need to make it wet.” You whimpered feeling Jack kneel into the bed. 
He took two of his fingers to spread your folds open, saliva pooled in his mouth before he let his spit fall onto your cunt. It ran down your clit making you squirm “that enough?” Jack asked standing back up straight as you nodded. 
You brought your fingers down your stomach and to your slit. The two fingers rubbed over your sensitive nub making the boy’s pants grow tight, your fingers travelled to your cunt as you let them thrust into the hole. The pace you used seemed to be a happy medium using Jack’s spit as some kind of lube that let your fingers create a squelching sound. 
Jack felt his throat grow tight “you think that you add another finger?” He could see how your eyes stuck on his now-formed boner “you want some encouragement?” The boy smirked when you nodded. 
Neither one hesitated to drop their pants as they pulled their cocks out of their boxers “can’t fit.” You shook your head watching as your mouth watered seeing them palm their members. 
Trevor sucked at his teeth “know you can do it.” He encouraged but still that didn’t seem to be enough. 
Your free hand went up to cup your boob, going tease your nipple that had been throbbing since it felt the cool air of Jack’s room “need help.” You pleaded, only ever having two fingers in your hole. Even the guys you dated seemed to stop at two, thinking that it was the perfect number. 
Jack took his precum over the head of his cock as he rubbed it down his length “why don’t you pick who.” If he had it his way he wouldn’t have even given Trevor a chance to get you first. 
When your eyes didn’t leave the Devils players it seemed your answer was written on the walls “no hard feels right?” He smirked tucking his cock back into boxers before he joined you on the bed. 
You sat up letting your back rest against his headboard “gonna relax f’me okay?” Jack asked watching you pull your own fingers from your cunt “okay.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when his thumb circled your clit. 
In the beginning he opted to start easy, with two fingers it was only slightly bigger than what you could fit in yourself “shit.” You whimpered letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 
His fingers grazed the spongey area of your cunt “uh huh baby want to hear you.” Jack kissed at your neck wanting to hear you scream “feels good.” You confessed making him nod. 
Jack pressed these opened-mouthed kisses on your jaw as he felt you clench around him “you see how hard you make him?” The Hughes boy turned his eyes to Trevor who palmed his cock at an even quicker pace “feel how hard you make me?” Jack brought your hand with his free one over his boxers. 
You took the time to feel his hard appendage and with that, Jack slid a third finger into your cunt “fuck!” Your toes curled at the new sensation. 
Jack lowered his head to your boob letting his lips wrap around your nipple “right there.” Your head rested against the cool wood behind you. 
His fingers felt every inch of you, the way your cunt clenched around his digits that attacked your needy hole “think you should get her clit Z.” Jack’s words made you whimper as you saw the boy’s swollen red tip look desperate for more of your attention “such a pretty girl ain’t she?” Trevor nodded, joining you on the other side of the bed. 
But he didn’t take the liberty of tucking himself away as he let his fingers tap on your lower lip “and a good listener too huh?” He teased watching your mouth suck at his fingers. 
He was forced to pull them out, not wanting to get too carried away “don’t stop.” There was a feeling you had never felt as Jack curled his fingers in this come hither motion. Trevor added to it letting his fingers drop down between Jacks hand and your clit. His calloused fingers were rough “fuck!” You called out watching Trevor drop his face to your chest. 
The boy clicked his tongue “look at this poor fucking tit all ignored.” He sighed not giving you a chance to respond as he too wrapped his lips around your other nipple. 
Looking down it was a sight of dreams as each boy sucked at your nipples, working in tandem on your clit and your cunt “I feel funny.” You confessed making them both look at each other.
It was encouragement for them to increase the pace of their fingers as Trevor rubbed your clit faster and Jack increased the pace of his thrusts “I think I’m gonna.” You trailed off with wide eyes as your body began to shake not sure if the pleasure was coming from your nipples, clit or cunt, or even a mixture of all three. 
Jack made a muffled grunt against your nipple that sent you over the edge, your face scrunched your face up letting your head jolt. Your cunt clenched around Jacks fingers as your body didn’t stop squirming. The boys didn’t stop there though as they brought you through your orgasm. 
The Hughes boy let his fingers begin to slow as your release didn’t seem to grow any sloppier around his digits “shit baby.” Jack let your nipple drop from his mouth with a pop. Your chest heaved as you nodded enough.” You whimpered feeling them retract their fingers away from you as Trevor finally let your other breast go. 
Trevor and Jack looked at the sight that you were in front of them “why don’t you taste yourself.” Jack offered his fingers bringing them into your mouth “so you can remember your first orgasm.” He added as Trevor had a devilish look in his eyes.
You went to turned your attention to the other boy whilst still sucking on Jacks fingers “I want a proper taste.” Trevor announced settling in between your legs. 
Your body was still sensitive and Jack was able to pick upon that “hey pretty girl.” His voice was soft, his fingers gripped at your jaw turning your head in his direction. 
His eyes caught yours “don’t worry about him right now?” Jack reassured you as Trevor kissed at your thigh “you want to still feel so good right?” Trevor asked wrapping his arm around your thigh when he blew against your cunt. 
The sensation made you squirm “please.” You nodded switching your gaze between both boys “a guy ever eaten this pretty cunt before?” Trevor ran his finger down your slit when he pressed a kiss against your other thigh. 
Jack focused his lips against the hollow of your collarbone “none.” But that wasn’t to say that you never wanted it, the guys you were with just wanted it to be you who went down on them “can’t believe you fucking thought you were the problem.” Jack clicked his tongue watching your eyes stick on Trevor. 
The boy mindlessly stared at your cunt, like he had never seen something so glorious “kiss?” You pleaded looking at Jack who couldn’t help but nod at you. 
His fingers gripped at your jaw as he started kissing you slowly at first. Trevor felt his cock throb watching the scene unfold in front of him. Jacks tongue ended up in your mouth and the Ducks player decided he couldn’t be the only one not having any fun. 
Trevor wrapped his other arm around your bare thigh, allowing your feet to settle on his shoulder blades “fucking hell.” His voice barely above a whisper before his head dropped against your cunt.
His mouth latched over your clit first making you moan into Jacks mouth “such a sweet cunt.” Trevor moaned sending shivers up your spine. The boy let his tongue travel to your weeping hole, his nose grazed your clit as he thrusted his tongue in against your walls. 
Your head fell back as Jack looked down “be a good girl and look at how good Z his making you feel.” He sucked at your earlobe making you whimper. 
Trevor’s eyes locked onto yours, his arms slightly loosened around your legs allowing you to drive your hips close to him “fuck z.” You moaned feeling Jack cup your tits once again “Jacky you’re missing out here.” Trevor confessed placing his thumb on your clit before he went back to fucking you with his tongue. 
Your eyes screwed shut as you felt Jack softly laugh against your skin “don’t have to worry because we’ve got plenty more in ya.” He looked at you through his devilishly long lashes “don’t we baby?” Jack asked as he sucked at your jaw. 
Silence swallowed you up when pleasure lulled in your ears. Trevor had been paying attention which made him scoff “he asked you a question doll.” The boy cupped his hand as he lay a smack against your cunt. 
The movement made you jolt when your eyes burst open “ahh,” you whimpered almost folding your body over “‘m sorry.” You apologised letting your lips form a pout. 
Trevor accepted the apology as he continued. He pressed a kiss against your clit “we just want you to be a good girl.” He sighed licking a stripe down your slit. 
Your thighs tensed around his head “because we don’t have to punish you then.” Your cunt clenched around his tongue as it lolled back into your hole “just wanna make you feel so good tonight.” Jack confessed going back to kissing your lips as you quickly became like a drug to him. 
There was the slightest scent of your perfume that was still on your skin that invaded his nostrils “please.” You nodded practically feeling like a brand new woman as the boys focused on you. 
Jack nodded running his fingers over your collarbone “c’mon sweet girl.” Jack cooed as you bit at your lip “you let this house hear you or else we’re gonna stop.” He warned squeezing your cheeks in his hand. 
Trevor pulled his tongue from your entrance before he let it lay flat running against your clit “seems like little miss perfect wants that.” Trevor taunted latching his lips around the sensitive nub. 
Jack gasped toying with your nipple between his fingers “you want Lukey to see what we are doing to his best friend?” The image made your voice quiver “h-he can’t.” You whimpered shaking your head. 
The boy between your thighs smirked “shame to keep this pretty pussy a secret.” Trevor sighed pressing a kiss against your clit “when she’s all soaked for us, it’s better to keep it our think no?” Jack asked pressing a wet kiss against your throat when you arched your back. 
The Ducks player let his tongue swirl around your sensitive nub, creating a healthy rhythm that caused your thighs to squeeze against his head “all for you.” You nodded with your voice turning breathy, almost angelic to the duo.
Those words went straight to the boys cocks that they were still so desperate to just let burst out, letting it soak your skin “can’t believe you tried to act like you were too good for us.” Jack pinched at your side making you jolt “I’m sorry.” You cried, your throat feeling raw as your heels pushed against Trevor’s shoulder blades. 
Jack smiled raking his fingers through your hair “‘s okay.” He mumbled pecking your lips “all that matters is that you’re here now.” Jack kissed you harder that time when your nails dug into his thigh. 
Trevor let his lips go from your clit as you whimpered not aware of how that hurt him more to stop than you could have known “please she’s been wanting to be a dumb little slut for us.” Trevor’s words were rough as he thrusted his fingers into your cunt. 
His were longer than Jacks but they weren’t as smooth either “please.” You begged clenching your walls around his digits “please what?” Trevor softly bit that the inside of your thigh. 
Your eyes almost rolled back into your head while Jack kissed at your shoulder “make me cum.” You whined wanting nothing more than to feel the high you felt earlier on “how can I say no to that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he went back to sucking at your clit. 
His fingers did this scissoring motion stretching you out around him. The squelching noises echoed against the walls of the room, mixing with the sounds of your moans that slipped through Jacks kisses “such a spoilt girl ain’t ya.” Jack saw the sweat that formed on your stomach. 
You nodded whimpering against him “want you to cum really good for him okay?” Those words made your toes curl as the coil tightened in your stomach “can I?” You nodded not knowing it was possible for you to do it again. 
Trevor nodded refusing to slow down his thrusts as he grinded his hips into the bed beneath him. Words left your lips in a shaky chant “please fuck please.” You begged squirming as he didn’t relent running his tongue over your clit. 
You huffed shaking your head “c’mon sweet girl you can let go.” Jack egged you on kissing your lips, swallowing the moans from your mouth. 
Your legs shook when Trevor fingered you through your high, your release coating his fingers when the coil snapped in your stomach “shit, holy shit.” Your chest heaved letting your fingers tug at Trevor’s hair to pull him off of you. 
His fingers dropped from your cunt went you kissed him. Your release shone on his chin “fuck.” Trevor moaned feeling your tongue brush against his, your walls clenched around nothing as you knew it was the taste of your pussy on his tongue. 
Jack grunted from beside you as you turned back to look at him. There was a smile on your lips “you ready for one more?” He asked pushing your hair out of your face when you nodded. 
It made Trevor laugh “of course she is.” He mumbled tugging at the hair on the nape of your neck so that he could kiss you again. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you with the amount of passion in it. 
A moan escaped from your lips “wanna taste you.” Your confession made his cock throb “how can I say no when a little slut asks me so nicely?” He nodded cupping your jaw as he smiled. 
Jack gripped at your sides “gonna let me fuck you while he does that?” Those words made you nod. 
You weren’t entirely sure how it happened but before you knew it Jack was on the end of the bed with his legs hanging over. You were hovering over his hips and of course Trevor stood over you, taking in the sight that you were through your thick eyelashes “remember when you thought you were too good to entertain us?” Trevor taunted you like those words hadn’t been spoken mere hours ago. 
You nodded feeling Jack kiss your shoulder blade “well I think it’s time you give us an apology for being such a fucking brat.” His words were harsh as Jack dragged the head of his cock against your clit “I’m sorry Trevor.” Jacks hand held your hip stopping you from sinking into his cock. 
Trevor laughed shaking his head “you gotta do a whole lot better than that.” His fingers brushed through your hair “and that’s gonna start with you getting on his dick okay?” You were eager to please them both. 
Jack let out a grunt “condom?” He asked when your head leaned against his shoulder “on the pill.” Your words made him gasp finally letting your cunt sink down on his cock. 
The ducks player smirked watching how your jaw went slack “shit this cunt is-wow.” Jack let his teeth gnaw at your shoulder blade. 
Neither one of you moved, taking the chance let your walls stretch around his cock. Trevor palmed himself watching how your eyes screwed shut enjoying how the boy felt inside of you “gonna have to try it one day too.” He nodded as you finally started lifting yourself up against Jack “you ready f’me to fuck you huh?” Jack asked, your head bobbed with your one hand resting on his thigh your nails digging into his skin. 
Jacks blue orbs burnt into the back of your head “this cunt is so perfect god.” He barked wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep your back flush against his chest “don’t stop.” The Devils player drunk in your whimpers while you squirmed. 
He adjusted his legs so that you had spread yours around his. Letting the feelings of pleasure soak over you, not sure how much more of him you could actually take. A grunt came from in front of you, reminding you that it wasn’t just you and Jack in that room.
Trevor’s precum oozed out of his cock and you swore you could see a smirk on his face when your mouth watered “you wanna suck my cock?” He asked watching you nodded. 
His breath grew short when you used your tongue to spread his liquid around his length “shit this mouth is-” Trevor cut himself off as you took more of his cock in your mouth. 
His fingers messily tugged at your hair forming a loose pony at the back of your head, encouraging you to work his cock between your lips “you want more?” He asked seeing how you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 
Jack had settled into a rhythm he liked unintentionally knocking your hand off of him. This cause you to reach out at Trevor’s thighs “fuck.” Both boys spoke through gritted teeth as Trevor’s cock hit your throat causing tears to spill from your eyes when you clenched around Jacks cock. 
The ducks player watched how you worked your tongue on the underside of his length “don’t stop pretty girl.” He nodded hearing the squelching of your cunt as Jack fucked you “yeah sweets we wanna use you proper.” Jack cooed gripping at your hip, pinching at the skin. 
You moaned around Trevor almost toppling him over “think you like the idea of us using you.” His words were full of desire, fantasies forming in his mind wanting to go through with them in that moment. 
Sweat stuck to your skin, turning you into a whimper mess “god you’re such a cock hungry slut.” Trevor muttered tugging at your hair eliciting another moan from your lips
The sensation made his eyes screw shut “fuck I’m gonna cum.” Trevor response was mangled, Jack started chasing his own high that was quickly approaching when he heard that message “you gonna let me make a mess in this pretty little mouth of yours?” He brought his one hand forward from your hair. 
His thumb brushed against your cheek “mhm.” Tears streamed down your cheeks while your eyes darted up to his. 
Trevor’s movements increased fucking your face as if you were his own hand. He took that moment before he became undone. His hand held you in place so his release hit the back of your throat all at once. 
Your throat gagged at the new sensation causing his cock to twitch before he went lax letting go of your hair. You hollowed out your cheeks as you let your lips swallow every last drop of what had been on his skin cleaning him up in the process. 
Gasps escaped from your lips causing droplets of his release to drip out of the side of your mouth “don’t go making a mess now.” Trevor clicked his tongue catching it with his thumb before he brought it into your mouth. 
Your lips wrapped around his digit swirling your tongue around it like it was his cock all over again “fuck I’m gonna make a mess in this pussy.” Jack announced feeling that he was close. 
His pace turned animalistic and if Trevor wasn’t in front of you, you swore you would have fallen over “such a tight cunt.” The boy moaned with his eyes glued to the way your folds swallowed his cock. 
Trevor felt himself grow hard again “such a pretty little cock drunk slut ain’t ya?” He asked watching your eyes grow glassy “yeah.” You cried hearing how your thighs slapped against Jack with every thrust of his cock. 
He almost felt as if he could feel your guts he was so deep, touch places you didn’t even know were in you “needed you both so bad.” You were surprised you were able to form a coherent sentence “knew you were always gonna be so desperate for us.” Trevor almost laughed watching your head bob as you nodded along. 
Your mouth watered seeing how his cock still oozed while his hand ran along the underside of it “you wanna feel this too pretty girl?” It was almost the sweetest thing he had said that night. 
It seemed to throw you off as you chewed at your lip sensing you were close “or maybe we should stop until this little slut remembers how to talk.” The threat held no weight as Jack was far too close with your walls squeezing his cock to let you off of him, but that wasn’t something that you considered “please Z.” Your moan sounded like you were a pornstar letting the whimpers of desperation escape from your throat. 
Trevor crouched down pumping his cock once more before he let the head sit in your clit “shit doll you like that?” Jack asked feeling you clench around him “so good.” You nodded letting your head fall against his shoulder. 
The sight was something Trevor swore should have been in the Louvre. His cock dragged over your clit matching the pace of Jacks thrusts. The Hughes boy was desperate to get you to cum first because he knew that the moment he finish he was a goner. 
Trevor begun to kiss at your throat which he now had the perfect spot to do as such “go on.” Trevor mumbled sucking at your sweet skin “make a mess on Jacky boys cock.” Your breathy gasps filled the room as your eyes screwed shut. 
Jack grunted from behind you “yeah baby make a mess for me.” Between Jacks cock fucking you senseless, Trevor’s cock against your clit and now both boys marking up your throat you were done. 
You shuttered out a cry while your face contorted letting tears fall from your shut eyes as your orgasm ripped through you. Neither boy stopped what they were doing, wanting to guide you through your orgasm “shit shit so good!” Jack sputtered out feeling your cunt clench around him. 
His eyes practically rolled back into his head as his cock shot warm sticky ropes of release into your cunt “fucking hell.” Trevor softly laughed against your throat when the younger boy lulled his thrusts before he kissed your shoulder. 
Your chest heaved trying to catch your breath you lay against Jack slowly coming back to, before you softly clenched around him remembering that he was still there “you with us baby?” Jack asked brushing your hair out of your face. 
You nodded gripping onto Trevor’s arm to help yourself up “damn.” Jack mumbled looking down at where you had been sat. A mix of your release and Jacks oozed out of your cunt and down the inside of your thigh as you used Trevor to support you. 
Trevor’s eyes followed Jacks before he let out a soft gasp “you know you could do that?” His hand squeezed at your hip before he set you on the bed next to the devils player. 
You shook your head “do what?” You asked growing confused “this broken girl just squirted.” Trevor scooped the release that had fallen before he thrusted his fingers into your cunt once more “we can’t have you forgetting about this now can we?” He asked watching your hand try to wrap around his wrist to stop him. 
Jack smirked seeing how you dropped back onto the bed, allowing your face to contort as you felt with a mix of pleasure and overstimulation “silly girl this summer is only just getting started.” The devils player nipped at your ear knowing that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Because here is to the summer you’ll never forget. 
948 notes · View notes
kwanspace · 2 months ago
Note
hey hey love ur work, just wondering if you would be willing to write a fic abt idol!san and idol!reader? like where they get shipped continuously after one little interaction at some award show then they start like getting invited to reality shows and stuff together and working together for music and stuff? then they fall in love? thank u so much for reading this - love u and ur work
Trending: Us
pairing: idol!san x gn idol!reader
theme: fluff
a/n: anon, thank you so much for your sweet words! i tried my best, i really hope you enjoy it, i had a lot of fun writing this, actually! (also, i'm sorry for taking so long to write it) love u too <3
asks are open! feel free to send anything
pls let me know what you think by commenting, reblogging or through the asks 💗
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Ever since your group began its rise, you'd found yourself in rooms you used to only dream about. Music shows, brand deals, chart placements — each step forward felt surreal. But this moment? This one topped everything. 
You and your group had been chosen to announce the winner for Best Performance at the MAMA Awards.
Your heart pounded under the stage lights as you held the envelope in trembling hands. You took a breath.
“And the winner is... ATEEZ! Congratulations!!”
The crowd exploded in cheers. The venue pulsed with energy as the guys made their way to the stage. You applauded genuinely, pride tugging at your chest. You straightened your shoulders, keeping a camera-friendly expression.
At the end of their speech, just as the members were about to leave the stage, your eyes found him. It was only a glance — barely two seconds — but it changed everything when he leaned in and whispered, “You were amazing tonight.”
You blinked, completely caught off guard, and the only thing you managed to say was, “You too.”
Nobody could hear your small talk, of course, but the cameras caught it — the look, the gentle nod, the way he leaned in to hear you through the crowd noise. That tiny moment set fire to the internet within the hour.
On your way to the dorm, your phone buzzed nonstop. Your heart raced, thinking maybe you'd done something wrong. But when you opened Twitter…
“Did you see THAT look? I’m shipping them so hard rn.”
“I hope they appear in a variety show together soon.”
“I really want to see them together again!!”
You blushed, never imagining that a tiny interaction with a guy could blow up like this. Still, knowing how the internet works, you pushed it aside and moved on with your life — though you couldn’t deny the way your heart had pounded.
It didn’t take long before the invites started rolling in — variety shows, music stages, YouTube content. It made you happy, of course. So when you arrived on set for the first shoot, you were buzzing with excitement.
What you hadn’t expected was to see him again so soon — let alone standing across from you behind a counter filled with eggs, flour, and far too many cameras.
The PD clapped his hands. “Today’s challenge: cooking in pairs! San and Y/N, you’ll be making pancakes. Go!”
You glanced at him, completely lost and unsure where to start. He looked over and grinned. “You don’t look that confident.”
“I’m not,” you admitted honestly. “I’ve never cooked anything in my life.”
He laughed. “Then follow me.”
Everything flowed more easily than you expected. You and San clicked quickly. When you handed him the flour, some spilled onto his shirt by accident.
“Yah! You’re sabotaging me!” he exclaimed.
You laughed, hands raised in apology. “You’re the one who didn’t grab it properly!”
“You did that on purpose!”
The cameras loved every second of it — and honestly, so did you. Your heart beat faster every time your hands brushed or when he gently told you to be careful with the knife.
Not long after, the pancakes — and the shoot — were finished.
Everything after that became a whirlwind. Your companies noticed the effect you two had online, and suddenly, you were seeing San almost every week. The content felt more like an excuse to put you together on camera — silly mini-games, telepathy tests (which you surprisingly nailed), and random selfies.
You two were well bonded by now. You could confidently say you were good friends.
Then came the collab.
It was a normal day. You walked into the studio and spotted San already there — hoodie on, earbuds in, humming to a track you didn’t recognize.
He looked up when you entered. “Oh — hey.” He stood quickly. “Didn’t know you were coming this early.”
“I could say the same to you,” you replied, setting your bag down. “Did they tell you anything?”
He shook his head. “Just that we’d be working on something... together.”
The silence stretched, just long enough to make your stomach flutter.
Your producer poked his head in. “Hey! Great timing. You two are the leads for this collab track. It’s a soft R&B concept — intimate and kind of romantic. We immediately thought of you two.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Romantic?”
San smirked and looked at you. “Sounds fun.”
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It started somewhere between the second verse and the bridge.
Maybe it was the way his soothing voice melted into yours, like puzzle pieces waiting to be found. Maybe it was the way he pouted when he couldn’t get a line right, completely unaware of how stupidly cute he looked.
You didn’t mean for it to happen.
But it did.
And now here you were, on the last day of recording, heart aching at the thought of it ending. You felt the sting of tears, but blinked them away — crying over this would be too ridiculous.
The track was finalized. There were no more excuses to see him late at night. No more surprise texts midweek.
San was packing up his things slowly, like he didn’t want to leave.
“This turned out better than I expected,” he said. “Our voices... Us.”
You looked down, too shy to meet his eyes. “It did. It doesn’t feel like just a song anymore.”
He chuckled. “Yeah... I think I got a bit addicted to you.”
You finally looked up, only to find him already watching you.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
“Let’s not let this be the last thing,” he said, voice soft and full of hope.
“No, let’s not,” you answered.
And then, he leaned in — so close you could feel his warm breath — and his lips slowly found yours, soft and certain, signaling the start of something very, very beautiful.
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butyoudidthis4what · 14 days ago
Text
Safe
Andrew Pope Cody x GN!Reader
7k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: mental health sick fic (? Is that a term?); some pretty heavy mental health themes; I checked many times to make sure this is gender neutral but if I missed something don’t hesitate to let me know (kindly please); reader is having a really bad time; reader is struggling with their mental health, specifically some pretty overwhelming sadness and feeling unimportant and like they aren’t needed; reader cries a lot; reader has negative self-esteem; reference to reader having trauma making them feel like they’re not enough but nothing specific; discussion of depression; suicidal ideation (no super explicit discussion); feelings of not being enough; lots of self-hate; we’re ignoring the laws of water heaters; emotional but I think still quite fluffy; no use of y/n or related.
Summary: Pope's there for you when things get bad.
AN: Things have been a little rough in the mental health department over here so we're getting Pope taking care of us because yes. I think Pope is actually great at comforting when he’s given the chance to and would be even more so to his significant other. He just provides that comfort in his own Pope way, and I think it would include showers because we know he loves his showers. Still questioning my characterization of him and his voice and whether it reads like him. Based on this ask for the 1k celebration! The prompt was "let's get you in the shower and we'll take it from there." In my mind this is in the same universe as Pope and Reader in I hear you., however I hear you. is not gender neutral. But you absolutely do not need to read one to understand the other!
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You text Pope instead of calling him like you normally might because you know he’ll hear it in your voice.
You - Can you meet me at my place?
Pope looks at his phone when it chimes and reads your message. It’s not that you never text him or that texting him is rare. You text him the most out of anybody, text him every day throughout the day about random shit, funny things you saw or that happened, photos of things you think he’d like, updates on your day. You text him like you talk to him when you’re together. You know just how much he can take at once, when it’s too much, when he needs quiet, when he needs distraction. You don’t expect him to reply just like you don’t when you talk to him when you’re together. 
He likes it, likes knowing what you’re up to and how your day is going. And he especially likes it because if you’re texting him it means you’re safe and you’re okay. 
But because Pope is Pope and he loves you and relies on your texts to know you’re safe and okay he knows how you text. He has studied it in his own way. He knows what’s normal for you and how you text when you’re sad or angry or anxious or a host of other emotions. He knows when a text back will suffice and when he needs to call. Nobody will ever be able to use your phone and pretend to be you or have you texting him while they’re holding you hostage. 
The message he just got from you doesn’t have him thinking you’ve been taken or aren’t safe but it isn’t normal. It’s just off for you. 
He calls you immediately. He knows you have to be at your phone since you just sent that message so when it takes you until the third ring to answer he’s even more convinced something is going on. 
You chew on the inside of your cheek when you see him calling, but you do smile to yourself. You know he must be concerned and you love how much he cares about you and you want to talk to him but you’re just concerned about your ability to keep it together over the phone.
You take a deep breath and answer. “Hey.”
There’s no greeting in return. He’s straight to the point with a concerned, “Are you okay?” 
“I’m about to leave work, I was only on until ten tonight, and was wondering if you could come over.” You try to keep your tone as casual and light as you can, keep out the sadness threatening to swallow you whole. 
The way you don’t really answer his question doesn’t escape his notice. “I’m on my way now.” You hear the door to his truck open and close and the engine turn over. “I’m ten minutes away.”
“I’m sorry.” You suddenly get anxious and regret asking him and wasting his time with this. You’ll be fine. “If you have something to do or are in the middle of something, it’s really okay. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t.” Pope doesn’t like whatever it is he’s hearing in your voice. Some part of it scares him just a little. “Just- just get home safely, okay? Can you? Get yourself home safely? Do you need me to pick you up?” 
“No. No, you don’t need to pick me up.” You hold your phone away from you for a second and blow out a breath, try to clear the tears from your voice. “I’ll be okay. I can get myself home.” 
“Hold on.” He moves his phone down so he can look at the text that just came in, letting out a frustrated sigh as he brings his phone back to his ear. “God damn it. J just texted, wants a meeting.” 
You can’t help the noise his words pull from you, something between a whimper and one of the saddest sighs Pope has ever heard. “Okay,” you whisper. “Just text me to let me know if you guys are doing something so I don’t worry please. And I’ll see you whenever you get here if you can tonight. Be safe. I love you.” 
“Hey-” You hang up before he can say anything else. You feel awful for hanging up on him and know it’ll make him worry, but it felt like bursting into tears while on the phone with him would’ve been worse for him, and that’s exactly what would’ve happened. 
Pope is almost a little stunned when you hang up. You’ve never hung up on him before. His uneasiness grows and he considers calling you back but he already knows you won’t pick up and you not answering would make him feel more anxiety. He just needs to get to you and see you, so he puts the truck in gear and drives off. 
You stare at your steering wheel for a few seconds after you hang up, debating whether to keep fighting back the tears or letting yourself fall apart here in your car and then drive home. The urge to cry is even stronger now that you know you won’t get to see Pope as soon as you’re home, he won’t beat you there and let himself in with his key and be sitting up straight on the couch watching your front door waiting for you. 
Maybe that’s for the better though, you tell yourself. You haven’t been this low, felt this achingly sad and listless since you’ve been with Pope. You don’t want him to think it’s somehow his fault or that he isn’t enough. And you don’t want it to make you too much and have him realize he doesn’t want to deal with you when you’re like this and have him leave. You know he understands those thoughts, you’ve been working through his together since you got together and now he’s okay letting you really see him. All of him. Even the vulnerable and messy parts, the parts of him that so so many people throughout his life have told him are terrible and will make nobody ever want to be with him. 
It feels much different though, of course you would stay for Pope, of course you accept him and are there for him no matter what and never feel like he’s too much or a burden. He has so much to offer and give you and look at him. But you’re you. You’re pretty certain you don’t have a tremendous amount to offer and he could pretty easily find someone better in every sense. 
The problem with staying here and crying in your car is it’s close enough to the bar that someone could potentially see you. You take in another deep and shuddery breath and force yourself to pull away from the curb and start the drive home.
As you pull up to your place you’re confused when you see Pope’s car parked out front and the lights on inside. And when you unlock your front door and walk inside, you’re met with the sight you’d been desperate to see all day, Pope sitting up straight on the couch watching your front door waiting for you. 
“Hi,” you greet him quietly as you lock the door behind you, set your stuff down and take off your shoes. “I thought J wanted a meeting?”
Pope shakes his head, lips pursing slightly in his scowl as the rest of his face furrows in annoyance. “Fuck J.” He stands up and takes a couple of steps towards you, face smoothing out. “You need me.” Pope pauses for a second because even having been together for nine months or so it’s still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that anyone could ever need him for something more than to fix something or solve a problem, generally through violence or cleaning up someone else’s violence. “I heard it in your voice. You hung up. I can, I can see it now.”
You’re quiet for a moment. You feel self-conscious and selfish and bad all of the sudden for asking him to come over and deal with you even though you know he doesn’t view it as dealing with you and you’d want him to do the exact same thing and reach out to you if he ever felt like this. “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be.” He takes another few steps toward you because you seem stuck in your place. “What’s wrong?”
You shrug at him. “I don’t really know how to explain,” you whisper. “I’m not not talking to you, I promise. I’m just sad, and right now, it’s hard to articulate. I’m just not…”
“Okay.” He nods as you take a few steps closer to him, the distance between the two of you nearly closed. Pope studies you, sees the dejection that seems to be enveloping you, shoulders slumped, eyes dull and looking off to the side. Your mouth is just slightly pulled down in a frown but it’s almost like you’re too tired and too sad to really pull it into one completely. He drums the fingers of his left hand in the air as he puts it all together. “You’re not ready to talk.”
You shake your head. “No. I’m too sad. I’m sorry. I think I just need to cry first and you don’t,” you sniffle. It’s getting harder to hold yourself together, tears wetting your eyes. “You don’t have to be here for this.” The last thing you want is for him to feel forced to stay here with you while you’re like this, to make him feel like he has to sit here in this dark cloud with you. You’ve cried in front of him before, cried into him before, but in the time you’ve been together you’ve never been this bad, fallen this hard, this fast, and this far.
The part of your brain that’s stuck in your past expects him to leave, to find it and you to be too much right now, to not want to have to deal with you especially when you can’t talk to him right now and explain, to not find you worth staying for and comforting. The rational part of your brain who knows Pope and how he loves you and tries so hard and has come far since you’ve been together and Smurf died knows he’s not going anywhere. But that part of your brain is whispering at best right now and easily drowned out by all the irrational and traumatized parts. 
Pope closes the small distance remaining between the two of you. He leans down and in and gives you a kiss, waits for you to take whatever you need from it, from him. “Okay,” he nods when you break apart, “okay, come here.” He winds his arms around you, pulls you flush to him. “Cry. If that’s what you need to do. Let yourself.” 
“You don’t have to, I’m not trying to manipulate you into staying or-”
“I don’t think that,” he cuts you off. “That never even occurred to me. You’re not Smurf.” He gives you a firm look as he says it but his eyes are soft in that way they only ever are for you. “And I know I don’t have to. I want to. Don’t apologize for this, feeling like this, or needing me.” He raises his eyebrows just slightly. “If you need to cry into me, you can.”
Your tears spill over as your chin trembles. He pulls your head to his chest silently, turns his head and rests his cheek on the top of yours and you let yourself fall apart completely into him.  
Pope is good at comforting people. Most people, Pope included, assume he isn’t, and that he doesn’t know how, but that’s really only because of the reputation Smurf deliberately gave him and how she manipulated him to make him near constantly feel only negative emotions, and manipulated him into thinking and feeling like he was constantly deteriorating mentally, losing his mind. Like he had nothing to really offer the world or his family. But he is good at comforting, even if it’s not in the completely traditional sense or if it doesn’t look like what everyone expects.
And Pope is unbelievably good at comforting you. Because he’s attuned to you. Intensely so. More than anyone ever has been. He’s able to feel you out, to read you in the moment. And he uses what comforts him and what you do to comfort him and what he has found comforts you, both through him using it to comfort you previously and by studying you and by seeing what you do to comfort yourself when you’re able to. 
After a couple of minutes he lifts his head and starts to slowly walk both of you towards the couch without letting go of you. “I’m letting you go for just a second,” he murmurs, his arms leaving you so that he can pull his shirt off quickly, hands immediately finding the hem of your shirt as his is dropping to the floor.
You look at him a little confused as your tears continue to wet your face and wrack your breathing. “I like feeling your skin on mine, when I’m upset. I thought you might too. I was only going to do waist up, if you wanted,” he explains in a mumble, the slightest flush hitting his cheeks and the tops of his ears, almost like he’s embarrassed he had the idea and thought you would like it. But you love it. 
The smile you give him is small and watery, but a smile nonetheless. “Please,” you whisper. Pope has your chest bare within seconds, lays himself out on the couch and pulls you by the hand down into him. 
He throws the blanket on the back of the couch over the two of you, his arms enveloping you and pulling you back into his chest as he tangles your legs together. Wrapped up in him your sobs are quick to resume like they never slowed. Neither of you say anything. He listens to the sound of you sobbing against him and you listen to the sound of his heartbeat and breaths.
Pope isn’t going to be the partner who comforts you with a ton of words, though he is much better with comforting words than he gives himself credit for, especially since getting together with you. It’s less him not knowing what to say and more that spoken comfort just isn’t his primary style. 
He grew up in a world where words, even ostensibly loving ones, were weapons and not to be trusted. To be sure, silence was weaponized too, but it wasn’t just the silence, it was the complete lack of attention and affection that was used with it, the refusal to even look at him or acknowledge his presence or to look at him with disdain and disappointment and shame. So while Pope might not use spoken comfort, he’s sure to make the silence that’s left is a comfort itself, makes sure you know he sees you and is listening and is there for you and focused on you.
Pope comforts you with his body, generally not sexually, though sometimes it comes into play because there is something inherently comforting about being that close to him. He lets his body speak for him, comforts you by keeping you close to him as long as it won’t overstimulate you, running his hands over you wherever he can reach, kissing wherever he can reach. He comforts you with his presence and reassurance. With the way he tries. With that intense but loving gaze of his that makes you feel more seen than you’ve ever been before, more seen than you think you deserve to be. He comforts you with the way he listens to you, all of you, not just your words but your body, especially your face and your eyes and your hands. With the things he does, like pulling you into him on the couch like he just did, or creating an excuse for him to take you into a private room to be alone for a bit while you’re out, or coming up with a reason for you guys to leave early, or sitting on the pier in silence with you.
Pope comforts you by showing up and by staying through all of it, the best and the worst. 
And so right now Pope is holding you to him on the couch in silence, only the sound of your tears in the room, but his legs tangling in yours, his foot brushing up and down your lower calf, his firm but still soft tummy pressing against yours with every breath you take, his hands rubbing your back and cupping the back of your head to keep you close to his chest, his lips pressing lingering kisses to the top of your head, they’re all telling you that he’s got you. That he’s here. That everything will be okay. That he isn’t going anywhere. That it’s okay to feel like this and to cry. That it’s okay to not be able to talk. That he loves you. 
He says everything you need to hear by saying nothing in a way only Pope could pull off. 
You cry for everything and for nothing. Because there’s an ache in your chest and your stomach and your soul that you don’t know what to do with, don’t know how to heal. It settles in your bones and your breath. And all it leaves you with right now is the ability to cry. 
You’re just so sad and so tired and so tired of being so sad. Especially when you feel like you have nothing to really be sad for. Your life is good, all things considered. You’re one of the lucky ones. You have a job you enjoy well enough. You’re okay financially. You have friends. You have Pope. 
So how can you possibly be this sad? How can you possibly be this sad without being an ungrateful and self-centered piece of shit? The questions just make you sadder which makes you ask the questions more which makes you even sadder, a feedback loop that could easily become never ending, one that you have to claw your way out of. 
After a while you cry yourself out. You’re drained on every level and keep yourself buried against Pope. He lets you, he wants you to. He holds you as your breathing evens back out, smiles to himself for a second when you grab a bit of the blanket to wipe off his chest where you got it wet with tears and a bit snotty. His hands squeeze you softly where they happen to be, a silent instruction not to worry about that right now. 
Once you get it together enough you pull your head from Pope’s chest and back far enough that you can see each other. His eyes flit around your face. He hates seeing you like this, sad, overwhelmingly sad. It resonates with him which makes it even worse. He knows how you’re feeling. Has felt it himself. It kills him that he can’t make it better, can’t protect you from this. It hurts his heart in a way he didn’t know it could hurt until he got together with you and saw you sad for the first time. 
Pope’s eyes finally land back on yours. “I love you.” 
You give him a weak smile. “I love you too.” You lean in and kiss him, soft but lingering, for yourself but also to thank him.
He brings a hand to your face once you pull away, swipes his thumb over your lips before lowering his hand so that he’s half holding your jaw and half resting his fingers on your neck. “Feel a little better?” There’s no pressure in the question or his tone. He’s just checking in with you, wants you to be honest with him.
You shrug. “I don’t know yet,” you whisper.  
“That’s okay.” He’s trying to decide where to go from here, what to do next to try and help you through this. “Did you have dinner before you left work?” You’ve mentioned in the past that it can be more difficult for you to regulate your emotions when you’re hungry or your blood sugar is low. 
“No.” You rest your hand on top of his and squeeze lightly. “And I’m not really hungry right now. Eating sounds like, I don’t know… I don’t think I’d be able to get anything down.”
Pope nods at you. He knows what you mean, understands the feeling. He won’t push you to eat now, not right after you cried. But at some point tonight he will give you a little pushback, try and get you to have something, even just a protein drink or smoothie. It’s important and even if you don’t think so when he does push back, it’ll make you feel a bit better.
“Okay.” He holds your gaze as he goes back to considering. “Let’s get you in the shower and we’ll take it from there.”
He often turns to showers when he needs help resetting. There’s something about the water falling against his skin and the noise it all makes that helps his mind quiet and still. Helps bring him back to himself. He thinks they do the same for you, even if you don’t fully realize it. But even if they don’t, even if it doesn’t help that much and doesn’t really make you feel that much better, he’s quite confident that being pressed against him in a hot shower and him washing you so that you feel nice and clean isn’t going to make you worse.
You smile to yourself softly and it meets your eyes, even with as sad as the smile is. It’s such a Pope thing to suggest. It’s a way he comforts himself and since you’ve been together he’s turned it into a way to comfort you. There’s something so sweet about it. About him. “You’re coming in with me, right?” 
“Course.” He nods as he says it, voice low and gravelly like usual but with the subtlest glint of playfulness like he’s teasingly asking you if you had to ask, even as his face remains stoic. 
He’s rewarded with another small smile. “Okay, good.” You let out a breath and then move to get off the couch, Pope releasing you so you can. 
You walk towards the bathroom together but Pope stops by the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. He holds it out for you to take. “Drink.” It’s a soft command, but one that tells you it’s not something up for negotiation. “The last thing we want or need is you passing out from dehydration and the heat of the shower.”
You nod at him and take the bottle, open it and take a drink as you finish walking to the bathroom with him. Crying dehydrates you. Far more than you ever realize or remember. But Pope remembers because he’s naturally driven to take care of you in every possible way. And the man really does take such good care of you, better than anyone you’ve ever been with before.
Pope turns the shower on and finishes stripping you before doing the same to himself. You get about half way through the water bottle before you step in the shower with him, leave it on the counter for after. The shower is just shy of scalding as you walk directly under the stream and let it rain down on you. 
He smiles to himself a little when he watches you let your head fall back a little, your shoulders relaxing as some of the tension goes away. He likes knowing he helps, that something he suggested has made you feel a little better, even if only physically. 
You’re not surprised to find hazel eyes watching you when you move your head out of the stream. You reach out your hand, silently asking him to come closer and get wet and stand in the water with you. He obliges of course, takes your hand and steps under the stream to get himself all wet before pulling you close and finding a position where the water hits both of your bodies and leaves your faces free even as you rest your head against his chest again.
Steam billows around you as you stand in Pope’s arms. Neither of you say anything, but Pope’s hands rubbing your back are speaking for him again. He picks up on it right away. When you start crying again. You’re not shaking, your breathing doesn’t really change. You’re just standing in his arms letting tears slip out of your eyes, wetting your cheek and his chest on the one side. 
Pope feels it. That side of his chest shouldn’t be getting wet right now, especially not near your face. “You want to get out?” he murmurs. 
“No. I need to just let them out,” you sniffle. “And I like being here with you like this.”
He acknowledges your words by stilling his hands and holding you a little tighter, resting his cheek on the top of your head like he did earlier. 
You cry yourself out again, quicker this time. And once you have and have taken a few moments to really focus on the beat of Pope’s heart over the water you lift your head from his chest. “I… I’m ready to talk.”
Pope nods at you, loosening his arms so you can pull away from him enough to rest your hands on his chest, his hands starting to roam your back again.
“It’s still hard to explain,” you start with a disappointed sigh. “I wish I could explain it better but I’m just sad. Like overwhelmingly sad.” Pope hates how guilty you look when your eyes leave his to stare at your hands on his chest. “I’ve been feeling it kind of, been a little more down like we’ve talked about a little the last few days, but I don’t know. Something about today. It just intensified and became all consuming and, and uncomfortable. Like the sadness is making me physically uncomfortable. I’m restless but paralyzed. It makes no sense.” You shake your head.  
“Everything is just so much right now. Things that were fun aren’t really anymore. Spaces that used to be fun and safe aren’t. People I’m so close with, my best friends, it feels like they’re gone or uninterested or just don’t care or want to be around. And so I feel like I’m unimportant and not needed and could just disappear from the life of almost everyone I know and it wouldn’t be noticeable. At best a blip on people’s radars. And I hate myself for thinking that and it makes me feel like a terrible friend and person, but I get so convinced, I am so convinced right now,” you say emphatically.
Your eyes find his quickly. “But that doesn’t include you, none of that, of this, includes you. You’re the exception. You keep me here. I love you and you make me happy and feel so loved and I, I don’t know what I’d do right now if I didn’t have you. Didn’t have you to come home to and to ask to take care of me.” 
There’s a pause and you look away from him again. Pope doesn’t say anything because he knows from your body language that you’re not done speaking and just want someone to listen. You’re not looking at him like you’re waiting for him to say something. You’re looking off to the side in thought.
“I don’t know what it is, really. Or what causes it. Sometimes I just get so overwhelmingly sad. Logically, I know it’ll pass, but emotionally I can’t believe it. Because I lose sight of the… surface. So I convince myself I’ll be drowning in it forever until I finally die.” You look back up at him, still looking slightly guilty and now also absolutely soul-shatteringly sad. It kills him. 
Pope nods slowly, chooses his words carefully. “You won’t drown alone.” 
It’s a promise. And you know it’s an acknowledgement that as much as he wants more than anything at the moment to say that he won’t let you drown and that he’ll pull you from the sadness and make you all better, he knows he can’t promise you that because that’s not how shit like this works, he knows he can only truthfully promise you that you won’t be alone or unsupported in it. 
You appreciate so much the way he’s just listening right now and not trying to talk you through this or out of it in his own Pope way. Because that’s not what you need right now. Right now you just need to speak how you’re feeling out loud. It doesn’t need to be a long and protracted conversation about how you feel either. You just need to speak. You just need to be heard, need to get it all out of your lungs and leach it out of your bones. Or as much of it as you can. 
“I know how awful I must seem. I have a good life, I have you. I should be grateful, and I am grateful, I swear. I don’t know why this happens and why I get so sad and why I think about throwing it all away.” It’s hard to admit your ideation to him but he needs to know, you want him to know. “It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it all or you or that I don’t love you, or that you’re not enough, I promise. It just, my brain makes it seem like it would be doing you a favor and an act of love by freeing you from me and my bullshit.”
“You don’t seem awful and you aren’t awful,” Pope shakes his head as he says it. “I know and I understand that it doesn’t mean any of that. You know I’ve been where you are. I know the sadness and… despair, they take over. I know what it’s like to truly believe everyone in your life would be better off with you dead. So I don’t take it personally.” 
He slides his hands up your sides and then cups your face with both of them, makes sure he really has your gaze. “And you don’t need to worry that telling me, talking to me about this kind of stuff is going to hurt me or push me away or make me feel like I’m not enough.” Pope is only saying as much as he is right now because he needs to make sure you know he understands so that you don’t feel bad about it and think you’re hurting him if you speak to him about this. 
“And I know I don’t need to tell you that it wouldn’t be better for me, but I am anyway because it wouldn’t and I need you to know that.” He keeps that part short because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s guilt tripping you somehow. 
“I know. I always know deep down.” You brush your thumbs over his chest. “And I’m glad you know that it’s not like that. That this isn’t about you not making me happy enough or anything. You’re like, my reason for staying. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been, even when I’m like this, you know?”
Pope’s heart aches at that, because making you happy is the most important and the greatest thing he’ll ever do. 
“You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.” He squeezes your face gently. “Which I know probably isn’t really saying much,” he says with a little smirked smile. You giggle like he hoped you would and he wishes he could explain to you how the sound, any version of your laugh, heals a little piece of him every time he hears it. “But for a long time I didn’t think I’d ever really be happy. I didn’t hope to be. I just hoped… to not hurt constantly,” he admits. “And then Deran hired a new bartender and suddenly I didn’t even have to hope for happiness because even before we got together, being around you, you made me happy. Still do.” 
And there he goes healing a little piece of you. Making you feel even better than he already has just by holding you and listening to you and the little bits he’s said to you. You step a little closer to him and lean up as much as you can, push your lips out. Pope’s quick to give you what you want, leaning down so that you can kiss him. 
He lets you control it, take what you want and need. You wind up standing there in the shower making out for what must be a good ten minutes until you pull away to really catch your breaths and finish your shower.
“Will you wash me now, please?” you ask Pope quietly. 
He nods at you and steps out of the stream. Pope asks if you want him to do your hair and your face or just give your body a nice scrub and once you tell him he takes his time getting you nice and clean, letting his hands linger as he does, stopping to massage some of the residual tension from your neck and shoulders. He washes himself quickly too, getting his hair wet and then pushing it back out of his face in that way you love, curls already forming at the ends, especially near the nape of his neck. 
Once he opens his eyes again he finds you staring at him appreciatively. You step back into his space and wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you,” you whisper. “For being my safe place. You’re the only place I feel truly safe. In every sense of the word. Physically and mentally. I know I can not be okay with you. And I’ve never had that before.”
Pope’s quiet for a moment, one hand resting on your hip. He still doesn’t quite know what to do with that because for as long as he can remember almost everyone was scared of him. People would feel safe with him if they felt like he was on their side and would protect them. But until you he’d never been someone’s safe place, the only place someone felt truly safe. And it fucks with him still sometimes and it’s easy for him to slip into his head about it. 
“I’m glad you feel that way and know that. Because it’s true. I’ll always keep you safe. Even from yourself.” His hand not on your hip comes up to your face, his index finger tracing your jawline and profile. “And the only thing you have to be with me is you. Who you are, just as you are, in whatever mood or however you’re feeling, is enough. More than.” 
You swallow hard at his words. They could make you cry in a good way if you had any tears left right now. “I hope you know that’s true of you too. The only thing you have to be with me is you. You. Not who anyone else thinks you are or should be. Just you as you are. As you want to be.”
He nods. “I know.” He doesn’t say anything further, doesn’t argue or pushback because it’s not about him right now and he’s not going to let you make it become about him like you’re wont to do sometimes. “You ready?”
“Yeah, thank you.” You nod at him and give him a smile. Not as big as your normal smile but much bigger than anything you were able to give him before you got in the shower. It makes him smile, which just makes you smile a little bigger because you love seeing him smile. 
Pope turns the shower off and gets out first, quickly drying himself and wrapping his towel around his waist before holding a towel open for you to step into. He helps you dry off and you both walk into the bedroom. He goes straight for his phone and orders your favorite. He hopes that by not asking if you’re hungry now and not making you think about it, it’ll be easier for you to eat when it arrives. If you’re still not hungry for real food then he’ll find something else for you and you can save yours in the fridge until you’re ready for it. 
While he does that you start putting some lotion on. Once he’s done on the phone and has a pair of lounge pants on, a shirtless Pope walks over to you and stops you before you can put more lotion on. He takes over and does it for you, wordlessly massaging the lotion into your skin and looking you in your eyes. “Food’ll be here soon.” 
“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur as you watch him go to the dresser and get out your favorite loungewear. “But thank you.”
“I wanted to. And you’re welcome.” He helps you into your clothes and lets you cling to him for a minute after. You’ve spent almost all night in the man’s arms but it hasn’t been enough and you really don’t want to leave them. Pope doesn’t want you to leave them either. 
You head back into the living room, eat at the table together once the food arrives. Only Pope sits next to you instead of across from you like he normally does. He loves getting to look up at you but he knows you need to really feel him right now and that’s better accomplished by sitting next to you. 
“You want to watch something? In bed or on the couch?” Pope asks you once you’re done eating and have gotten everything cleaned and put away. That you’ll cuddle as you watch is so standard you don’t need to say it or ask for it.
“Sure,” you nod, “in bed if that’s okay. You can pick what, though.” 
You’re not just saying he can pick to be nice and he can tell. You’re saying it because you don’t have the energy or capacity to make a decision right now. You need him to pick for you.  
“Okay.” He holds his hand out for you and you take it, walk back into the bedroom with him. You both brush your teeth and change into pajamas before sliding into bed. 
You roll on your side to watch Pope as he pulls something for you guys to watch up on the TV. “This good?”
You force your eyes to leave him so that you can see what he’s picked even though you really just want to say yes because whatever he picked will be perfect because he picked it. But when you see what he’s chosen, tears start to sting a little.
Pope has an episode of one of your favorite shows queued up. It’s your go to show when you’re not feeling well physically or emotionally. You’ve never told him that explicitly. He’s just picked up on it by watching you. Just by the simple act of paying attention to you. It makes you feel so loved it hurts, in the best of ways. 
And the thing is he doesn’t even like the show. You know if anything he dislikes it, not because he told you, he never would, not when he can tell it’s one of your comfort shows, but because Deran said something one day about it. 
You look back at Pope. “You hate this show.” 
He shakes his head. “I don’t hate anything that makes you happy. It’s not my personal preference. But it’s my first choice right now. Because it’s yours.” The tears that were stinging become visible and Pope’s eyes widen. “Fuck, I didn’t meant to-”
“No,” you cut him off with a little laugh, blink away the tears. “No, these are good ones. These are because you make me feel so loved and take such good care of me and I don’t know what I did to be loved by you, to be loved the way you love me.” 
“You’re you.” He says it like it’s so simple and obvious and easy. Because to him it is. “That’s more than enough.” You’re quiet as you try and think of how to respond. He knows you struggle with it just like he does. “One day I’m going to get you to believe it.”
That feels like such an impossible feat, but if someone is ever going to get you to believe who you are is enough, that you’re enough, it will be Pope.
“One day I’m going to get you to believe the same, my love,” you tell him softly.
He gives you a small smile and a ‘we’ll see’ nod before beckoning you closer with a finger and holding his arms open for you. You steal a kiss from him before laying yourself half on him, head on his chest yet again tonight.
Once you’re settled comfortably on him and in his arms he plays the show and rubs your back. He can feel you get closer and closer to sleep in the way your body continues to slacken and sink into him further. 
You know you’re losing the battle with sleep too. “Thank you and I love you,” you manage to mumble out before you give into sleep. 
Pope knows you won’t really hear him but he says it nonetheless. He says it to your sleeping form a lot, actually. “I love you too.”
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naffeclipse · 6 months ago
Text
A Drive
Reader x Mob Bosses!Sun & Moon
Commission Info
Many thanks to @vixenfoxpup for giving me a go at the mob boss brothers. They are, I'm afraid to say, still dastardly. The mob bosses decide to take you away on a little drive, but they discover something along the dark and quiet city roads, something you're not telling them.
Content Warning for suggestive themes, abduction, implied abuse, and bruises.
———
You step carefully down the street, jacket pulled tight around you, weary of each rattle and grumble from passing cars, and erupting laughter from two men just outside of a speakeasy. The coils of anxiety within you are twining so tightly, you fear something will tear. You are too on edge for a city that is so lively. 
Inhaling the thick fumes of the city, catching oil and smoke and something much more rotten underneath it all, you continue towards your home. It’s been a long day, a long week. The sky is turning red from a bleeding sunset, and the light is quickly fleeting from the dark and dreary streets. 
You might have quickened your stride if you weren’t so exhausted. A heaviness pulses behind your eyes. For several days at your job, you’ve done nothing but struggle with prose and putting together a comprehensive piece for your boss to throw into the newspaper. 
The ghost of pain flares. Unwittingly, your fingers slip inside your jacket sleeve to caress a dark blossom of purple and blue over your wrist. Your skin seems so delicate though it’s not yet broken as it holds back the damage. 
You just have to get home. Taking a corner, the street seems to fall dead before your eyes. What would usually be bustling is not hush with the shadows thickly draping the sidewalk and the slick road. Fire burns in street lamps, solitary beacons in the infant night, as doors are shut and windows drawn close, and you wonder what happened to the businesses in this area. 
The walk home hadn’t seemed so lonely before. There is another you can blame on such a thing but you bite back any accusations and duck your head to stride quickly to your apartment. Maybe you could actually catch some shut-eye and not disappoint your boss tomorrow.
There’s always something to report, something going down, someone murdered and someone found washed up in the river. Corruption thrives in the festering wounds of the city, and you bear witness. 
There has to be something someone can do. On top of your private life struggles, a helplessness sinks down and drags you into the muck of the city. 
The last rays of the dying red sunlight disappear into a deep blue twilight, and you think about lying down on your bed only to twist and turn, fruitlessly chasing some hours of snoozing. Yellow lights guide your way home, and you stare into dark buildings with indifferent streets falling behind you.
Your pulse thrums in your ears. Evening your breath, you force your stride to not show any fear. The wrong person might not like your scent, might see someone without an escort and without any means of protection, and want to try their luck.
You don’t need any more bruises tonight.
At the end of the street, a vehicle rumbles into sight. Turning into view, great big headlights cut through the night and blind you momentarily. Forced to avert your gaze, you catch the deep growl of the engine as it creeps down the street. Your vision settles with two blots of afterimages seared into them, but you catch the dark make and model of the vehicle. It’s black as a hearse and sleek as polished onyx. 
Your heart immediately leaps into your throat. You turn away, immediately walking in the other direction. Squaring your shoulders and holding your head high, you try to not run—it might push them into a chase, like a predator unwilling to allow its prey to escape.
A dozen answers race through your mind: a hit and run, an ordered target, a problem that needs to be solved with lead and gasoline. It was always a possibility in your line of work—and you’ve rocked the boat on plenty of circles within the city from the counselors’ office all the way down to the low life gangsters that seek to keep polluting the people.
Your lungs constrict and deflate. Swallowing back a whimper, you continue striding purposefully down the sidewalk as if the black vehicle isn’t crawling behind you, lights fully placed onto your figure. Your shadow is startled and jumpy, twitching arms unable to decide to prepare for a fight or to run all the way to someone who might bear witness to the crime about to occur. 
You curse quietly in the echoes of your mind. You don’t want to die like this. You don't want to die. 
Behind you, a sudden stutter in the engine sounds as it jerks to a stop. 
Your heart explodes in your chest, adrenaline fueled into the recesses of your limbs, and you take off like an alley cat escaping the jaws of a mutt.
Doors open and footsteps pound behind you. Only a precious few strides closes the distance, and hands seize you, wrapping around your waist and snatching your legs before the familiar scent of bourbon and cigarette smoke reaches your senses.
That does not quell your furious struggle, attempting to kick your legs and claw at your abductors, but they haul you back to the vehicle and stuff you inside as if you were a mere lamb.
Before you can blink, doors slam shut, the vehicle lurches forward, and you’re caught in the darkness behind tinted glass. Fabric rustles before you’re pulled neatly onto the mob boss’s lab.
“Sun,” you utter, your throat thick with panic. Across the plush seats and dingy trails of cigarette smoke, sits his brother. You meet his gaze briefly before lowering it. “Moon.”
“Turtle dove,” a cheerful coo slips into your ear. The solar theme animatronic, crowned with bright yellow rays and a notorious infamy for his underworld business practice, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His arms trap you firmly against his chest. “The attempt to fly away from us was precious, but you wouldn’t have to lose your breath if you simply stayed where you were.”
You offer a noncommittal hum, unable to argue but unwilling to concede. 
Across the seat, Moon sits in the darkness, his pale eyes glowing red with a simper. He fixes his fedora with two fingers pinching the brim.
“If you wanted us to chase you, say the word,” his growl is low and saccharine, causing your pulse to jump, “I would have enjoyed giving you a better chance.”
“What chance would that be?” you ask warily. Sun’s hand slips down your cheek with warm, slender digits leaving goosebumps in his wake. 
“Next to nothing,” Moon chuckles, “but it would have had more sport in it.”
“For you,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes as Sun leans closely behind you. His hand softly wraps around the column of your throat, just under your chin.
“For me,” Moon grins wickedly. Then brusquely, he says, “Sunny, leave enough to share.”
“I’m not overindulging,” Sun’s voice, bouncing and dark, warms your ears until they turn red, “Not yet, anyways.”
His thumb strokes your pulse. Held still in his grasp, you fight the urge to gulp as Sun hums thoughtfully.
“Dollface, we’ve been so worried! We thought you might have forgotten about us!”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” you answer meekly. You glance down to his sharp suit. His half-lidded gaze peers around you, his eyes pale and haunting. 
You try to squirm free, to find some space where you’re not overwhelmed by the rich scent of his clothes and the metallic tang that almost hangs like blood in the air, but Sun leaves no room for escape. His arm cinches tightly over your waist. His faceplate is smooth and sleek, and his malleable mouth presses a kiss to the back of your neck, just above your jacket collar. You flinch slightly from the pressure on the sore and sensitive bruise circling your neck like a choker before flailing to cover it up.
“Where are you taking me?” you squeak in fright. Frantically, you up turn the collar of your jacket to conceal the bruises once more.
Sun becomes frozen, and you shift frantically in his lap. You almost turn to see his expression but dread what you will find. His hand falls away from your neck but they hover close to your arms, as if he wishes to grab you and whisk you away somewhere. 
“A little tour of the city,” Moon answers, and seizing his opportunity, reaches across the space and plucks you from Sun’s arms. 
The mob boss slides you onto his lap. The city lights flash past, dulled by the windows, and the night hangs heavier still outside. Your heart thunders within you. Silver and dark hands slip down your sides, rubbing you gently as if to soothe the anxiety boiling over within you. His touch slides down your legs, carefully caressing until you shiver. 
Sun sits strangely silent, as taut as the trigger of a gun. His expression catches on flashes of streetlamps, unreadable, but his eyes are wide and piercing the darkness. 
Moon at last cups your chin and turns it towards him. Attention ripped away from his brother, you struggle to not whimper under his daunting expression. His red glow dusts your cheeks. A frown forms on his face plate. He lifts a thumb and draws it in a half moon underneath your eye.
“When’s the last time you had a good night’s rest?” he murmurs. Your eyelids flutter, wondering how terrible you must look. 
You cage your tongue within your mouth, “Last night.”
His optics narrow into thin slits of red. “Naughty thing. Perhaps I should take you back with us. You would have a proper bed, and peace, and Sun and I to help you drift into dreams. Doesn’t that sound like heaven, my dear?”
You stiffen, and quickly try to deny your sleepless night, but pushing back against Moon only results in your wrist being captured.
Pain pulses, sucking in sharply through your teeth. Moon immediately becomes alert. He releases your chin to rip your jacket sleeve back and expose the dark circle wrapping your wrist like a bracelet. In response, you pull it back down.
“Take me home,” you utter.  
“What happened?” Moon growls. He lifts his head, refusing to release your arm though he grips it gingerly. “Who did this?”
“It was only me,” you answer, but you avert your gaze. “I fell down a step and hit it on the railing.”
“An accident,” Moon rasps, much lower. You fear he doesn’t believe you.
“Yes.” You unwittingly meet Sun’s gaze, and his hands have curled into iron-like fists. He still says nothing. The weight of his expression burns through you.
“Please,” you look at neither of them but plead with both, “Take me home.”
You catch the briefest glance shared between the brothers, silent and stormy. Moon shifts you back to the seat where Sun resides, and settles you between them. The quiet stretches as Sun gives a signal with his hand, and the driver turns a corner on the street. Instead of diving downtown, the vehicle returns to the higher streets where you were abducted. 
Sun’s hands caress your hair softly, twisting the strands between his fingers. A shiver rises up and over your scalp at the sweetness of his playfulness. The burn of his gaze resides on the back of your neck. Likewise, Moon’s touch does not leave your hand. His other strokes your knuckles and slips between your fingers until you shudder from the sensitive traces. 
Your street comes back into view, lonely and quiet and dark. The car parks quietly before your apartment building. A concern of them knowing where you leave is filed away for another time.
For several moments, neither mob bosses move, and you are trapped between them.
Sun grins but there is little joy in it, “We’ll see you again soon, turtle dove.”
“Very soon,” Moon echoes, his eyes darker, almost bordering on black before he at last opens the door for you.
You step out, freed. The black car peels away, leaving a scent of burnt rubber. You stand and stare at the vehicle turning away in the distance.
They shouldn’t have looked too close. Now you sit with a fear that they will go digger where they shouldn’t. It shouldn't matter at all to them.
You rub your wrist before touching the back of your neck. 
Though, this once, it matters to you that they’re involved.
383 notes · View notes
miwiheroes · 2 months ago
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El's Arc - "Pretty" to "Bitchin'"
tagging @gayofthefae and @hawkinsschoolcounselor bc their posts really help me with my analyses and i wouldn't be making posts without them xoxo
As I said in my post earlier, I have been rewatching seasons 1 and 2 and I've kind of pieced together some separate scenes of El to gather into this really interesting arc about her self-discovery and her self-image after leaving the lab. My guess is that the majority of this arc spans S1 and 2 and perfectly carries on into S3 and 4 where she really has her self-discovery arcs. Also keep in mind there are many many facets to her full character arc, and this is probably just one of many. I'm not an El expert per se, I've never analysed her this much in depth before, but I'll try my best :))
Also, this is not a pro-mileven post, in case you were wondering.
Basically, I've noticed that there are certain repeated words referring to El, and things that she keeps repeating in S1 and S2. From the beginning of S1 and sometimes in S2, she refers to things as "pretty". Later on, she stops referring to things as pretty and instead repeats the words "bitchin'" instead.
Basically, my guess is that pretty symbolically refers to her wishing she could be a normal girl, have a normal, non-lab childhood. Bitchin' refers to her embracing her powers and who she is as a person. At least by the end of S2 and in S3. By S4, she's using Bitchin' to impress Mike again, because she wants her powers back for him to love her again.
This arc is also tied to her wanting Mike to validate her as what she wants to be - a normal girl with a normal life. However, by the end of the arc in S2, she starts to become her own person.
Let's actually begin:
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Here is the first mention of the word pretty.
She's referring to Nancy here, looking at the pictures on the mantle of Mike's family who live in the classic, nuclear family, normal lifestyle. She sees the good-girl daughter Nancy Wheeler, and calls her pretty. She isn't just simply calling her pretty though, to me, she's encapsulating everything she sees in this image.
A regular girl, with long neat hair, good clothes etc. El does not see herself as this in the slightest.
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Mike's response is to say "I guess" - which makes sense because it's his sister and he's kind of annoyed by everything she does at the beginning of this season. Mike notes that El called her pretty.
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The next, arguably the most important, scene is of El looking around Nancy's room. This scene has no other purpose other than to perpetuate this particular arc that she wants to be like Nancy, that she wants to have a normal childhood.
So far, the scenes of her looking around Mike's house have been her finding things that trigger a flashback to her childhood in the lab. This scene in Nancy's room is the last one where she's looking around the Wheeler house alone. The previous scenes which trigger her lab memories are showing her real childhood.
The Nancy's room scene shows the childhood she wishes she had.
The camera pans around Nancy's room, from El's perspective, who is looking at it in wonderment. So far, she's only seen Mike's room. This is a girl's room and she's a girl, so she's seeing what she wanted as a kid.
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Here, she's getting emotional over a music box tune. Music box tunes often elicit themes of early childhood and infancy, also calmness and peace. Her getting emotional over it portrays that she's trying to remember something from her own infancy, but her infancy has never been as calming as a music box.
The music that plays in the background of this scene also has notes very similar to a music box. These musical motifs are often associated with "childhood, nostalgia or gentle, whimsical feelings".
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The next thing that is extremely important for this arc, is the fact that El gets very emotional over looking over pictures that Nancy has up in her room of her childhood. There are pictures of little Nancy looking happy, doing normal things, hanging with her best friend Barb, looking like the classic young girl with a happy childhood. El is clearly yearning for that in this scene after remembering so many awful things from her childhood.
This scene is the scene where she basically gains the desire to become Nancy - which is portrayed using the word pretty.
Also keep in mind that El probably knows how she looks - not like the typical girl. So when the boys suggest taking her to the middle school and Lucas says that they can't do that because....
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....of her appearance, this reinforces her idea of needing to look "pretty" in order to feel like a normal girl with a normal life.
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So she gets a make over by the boys - who are the ones to decide what they think makes a normal looking girl. Keep in mind that the make up and the dress and the wig were not her choices.
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So after all this pining over Nancy's childhood and looking like Nancy - when Mike, the person who has taken care of her from the beginning of the season, the person who she's definitely attached to by now, calls her pretty - she must feel pretty gratified. She's achieved looking like a normal girl, even if it's just a costume. This isn't just about her looking like a girl that Mike finds pretty either, this is about her looking like Nancy. Who is his sister. Huh okay definitely romantic asf....
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Eventually, Mike covers it up by saying pretty good, which El then decides to repeat into the mirror. She looks extremely emotional in this scene where she's looking at herself - and it's important that Mike is also seen in the mirror because, as we see later on, he becomes part of her desire to have a normal life. Part of her normal image.
After all, he's the one to give her a "normal" name: El. The first thing that gives her identity.
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The most important thing to note here is that she is literally wearing Nancy's dress. The first interaction that El and Nancy have is about the fact that El is dressing up as her, which makes perfect sense.
Another strange thing to do with Mike kind of inadvertently referring to El as her family, which further gratifies El's desire to be a part of the normal Wheeler family, is the fact he calls her his cousin:
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The next biggest turning point of her arc in S1 is when she uses her powers to harm somebody again - Lucas. This brings her mind back to the lab and her very abnormal childhood, especially when Mike says "What's wrong with you!" - basically showing that her using her powers for bad and not being the perfect normal girl is not what he wants. (Although this isn't actually why he says this, this is just how it looks to El). This is very clearly tied to her arc surrounding opening the UD gate, and feeling like she's a monster for doing this.
When she runs away, she roughens up her clothing and her wig. When she looks into a "mirror", the lake, and sees her true appearance and how wrong the wig looks now, she gets extremely angry at herself.
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This encapsulates her arc perfectly because it shows the anger at herself for using her powers incorrectly, and shows the anger at herself for not actually looking or acting like a normal girl would - since the dress and the wig were always going to just be costume pieces. She's aware that she doesn't look like a regular girl, maybe she's even aware that she looks like a boy.
This idea keeps being perpetuated by many characters in the first season.
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Which I'm sure just makes her feel more like a freak.
When El arrives back at home, again without the wig and with the dress all messed up and dirty, she looks again to Mike for that reassurance that she is still normal even without the costuming.
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To me, this is not romantic, and none of the times that he calls her pretty or her wanting him to call her that are. This is her wanting reassurance that she is just a normal girl still, due to her trauma, even though Mike has surely reassured her that she's not a monster. So when he says, albeit weirdly, that she's still pretty (because he wants her to be happy, as you can tell by his tone), she looks back at the mirror, emotional and smiling. This greatly contrasts to her looking in the lake and screaming at her reflection.
She needs Mike to feel normal - just like he needs her to feel normal oh! Twinning <3
Basically, we've established that she believes she wants to be a part of the Wheeler family to feel normal and like she has a normal childhood. Mike is very much part of that picture. This is reinforced when he paints a picture of her perfect ideal scenario of living a normal life when all the upside down stuff is over:
Mike: "My mom, she's a pretty awesome cook. She can make you whatever you like... Well, yeah, Eggos but real food too." *Sighs* "See, I was thinking, once all of this is over and Will's back and you're not a secret anymore, my parents can get you an actual bed for the basement... My point is, they'll take care of you. They'll be like your new parents, and Nancy will be like your new sister."
El:
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She doesn't know her feelings. If she knows what romantic feelings are anyways, she clearly doesn't feel any here, otherwise she would make a disgusted face rather than a curious one. After Mike refuses this idea, that's when she seems legitimately disappointed, because he's taking away her chance at what she wants:
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No matter what you say about Mike's behaviour in this scene, this is not romantic at all. oh my god - she literally doesn't think that there's a possibility for romance here. She's being presented as this naive "born sexy yesterday trope" nonsense, I hate it when people think this scene is super cute. I mean yeah, it might be innocent, but innocent in this icky way i cant even-
She ends up pressing him for an answer, and this is where she gets a new idea of a normal girl life: being taken to the Snow Ball by Mike. Being taken to a dance at a school seems like a very normal girl, normal childhood thing to do. She just wants a life where she's not this lab creature she thinks she is, and Mike is providing her with that.
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This is how Mike Wheeler explains that incest is wrong guys
Also El keeps pressing and says "No? You can't?" and it's like she keeps wanting to be his sister and getting confused whenever he takes that away from her 😭
When El then asks Mike what he means, he says that you don't even go with a friend, but he never actually says that he likes her, and just decides to kiss her - which he expects her to understand as a romantic gesture I guess. She doesn't know. All she knows is that Mike thinks she's special, Mike is going to help her feel normal and have a normal life.
He is the image of a normal life.
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So when she almost gets captured again by the abusive father figure that made her feel like a monster, the one who raised her in a lab where she feels like a fucking experiment, of course she is going to reach for Mike, who is her chance at a normal life. Reaching away from one familial figure to the next.
^^ This bit isn't simply her reaching for someone she trusts or loves, it's about her desperately trying to claw her way back to her only chance at safety.
Then we have the scene that basically confirms this whole thing 100 times over:
Mike: "The bad man's gone. We'll be home soon and my mom...she'll get you your own bed. You can eat as many Eggos as you want....... And we can go to the Snow Ball."
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She wants this life. This isn't just about her wanting to be romantic with Mike - the writers didn't just have Mike say about the Snow Ball. They had him promise all the other desirable, familial things that El wants too. She wants him to promise that he will give her a normal life, and he does.
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Could go on a complete tangent about how "Promises" are presented as something that can never ever be broken by Mike - meaning Mike gets trapped in this loop over and over of knowing that he's promised El a normal life. Even if his own feelings change, he has promised to provide her normalcy. Oof.
Onto Season 2. This theme of familial love and found family is very much carried on into Season 2, but not in the same way. El has sacrificed herself at the end of Season 1, and has tried to return to the Wheeler household, only to find that she is not welcome.
El is then trapped by Hopper. She shows a desire not just to leave to see Mike, but she shows a desire to leave to go trick or treating, aka the most normal childhood thing to do on Halloween. She just wants to be a kid like everyone else. Meaning, whenever she wants to leave to see Mike, she's trying to leave to have a normal life.
(Also, she only learns how to have a romantic relationship through Romcoms and dramatic romances on TV. Not through her own desires. Her relationship with Mike isn't part of her self-discovery journey, it's an obstacle)
For me, this desire for normalcy is basically proven in the fact that when she finds out there is ANOTHER chance at having a normal life (through finding her mother) she completely abandons the Mike thing and decides to go through that route instead. This is also likely because she keeps trying to contact Mike, but he never sees her, and when she goes to the school, she believes he's moved on without her. So she gives up and takes another route to normalcy.
Now for the moment that inspired this whole post. I just really needed to get out my thoughts about this:
El looks around what was supposed to be her childhood bedroom. Paralleling the scene in S1 where she looks around Nancy's room, yearning for a normal childhood.
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PRETTY.
This is definitive proof that the word "pretty" has nothing to do with her wanting to be called beautiful by Mike or something. She's not just calling a teddy bear pretty. She's reminiscing on her old desires to be like Nancy. She reminiscing on her old desires for a normal childhood. She's thinking about the possibility of if she was never taken to the lab, she would have been in this bedroom.
The way she says it too, it's with this sad tone. Like she's kind of resigning herself to actually not having a normal life - seeing as she's arrived to her one chance at it and seeing that her mother is unresponsive.
"Bitchin'"
This season is where we fully see El embrace her powers. We all love to hate on Episode 7 of Season 2, but it's actually really really important to her character. We see her be scared that Brenner is back and ready to take her home to her abnormal childhood. We see her channeling her anger. We see her come to embrace what makes her different.
When she comes back, she looks completely different. But not in a "normal" way. She looks......
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No longer pretty - aka normal. She's embracing her powers and her true self. Hopper also backs this up - it's important that he is the first person to embrace this because earlier in the season, he was the one to stifle her true self.
This word is then further associated with her finding herself in Season 3, which is where she kind of regresses back into not knowing who she is at the start of the season. She defines herself as Mike's girlfriend, and he's basically the only person she sees. The reason for this? He's the only one that makes her feel normal and happy. If someone out there calls this super romantic and not signs of an insecure attachment I'll throw my psychology degree hands okay
After she hangs out with Max, she no longer thinks she needs Mike. Max is now the one that makes her feel good - she's the one that doesn't just make her feel normal, but makes her feel free.
When El tarts becoming her own person, and in this season she really really embraces her powers, she calls herself this word again:
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In some ways, I think this is just fan service to the line in Season 2 LMAO because S3 was ripe with fan service but I can really see this as just being her looking for validation for her new self from Mike again. Her being a "badass' superhero is what he puts on a pedestal. Her powers are important to her sense of self, and when someone that you are attached to puts you on that pedestal because of your powers..... well.....
When those powers are taken away, you feel the need to create a new version of yourself.
And Season 4 is where El reinvents herself and regresses backwards in her arc. She's, yet again, trying to create the normal girl, normal life. She knows that Mike had put her on a pedestal for having super powers, and she's afraid that if her powers aren't good enough for him, and if she shows flaws when she has no powers, then he'll view her as a monster.
This all stems back to her original storyline in Season 1. See, it all comes full circle.
Now, back to this word. Pretty is no longer used. But bitchin' takes on a new meaning. It is the new "pretty".
El seeks validation from Mike again, wanting to seem like she has a normal life, a cool life that he desires and something that he'll show love for. She needs him to like this idealised version of her without flaws, with friends and good grades and someone who goes to fun parties at a roller rink:
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Then we see El go through her Season 4 arc which I just cannot begin to summarise, but I'll try to show what it means for this metaphor of her needing Mike to validate her:
Mike finds out about her lies, but she hides from him and refuses his initial comfort. She then acts violently and very out of the line from her idealised version she created.
The way he reacts reminds her of her old, abusive father figure who made her feel like an experiment. (again links to the old S1 arc)
Mike then refuses to talk to her, making her believe that he views her as a monster. She already thinks that he doesn't love her anymore because of the no powers thing.
He calls her a 'superhero' despite her really not feeling like one.
She throws the words back at Mike in a note later. Basically telling him that she no longer needs him to tell her that she's a superhero for her to feel like one.
In the lab, she figures out that she was never the monster. This is extremely important because she does this without needing Mike to tell her that he loves her.
When Mike does tell her that he loves her, it is no longer satisfying because she doesn't need this anymore. He also continues to call her a superhero.
Mike makes El feel normal - he gives her that stability that she was craving since she was extremely young. She just wants a normal childhood. After embracing her powers, she realises that in order for Mike to love her, she needs to have badass powers like a superhero, meaning when she loses them, she reinvents herself as a normal girl again. When she shows flaws, her powers no longer "make up" for them, so she thinks Mike views her as a monster. She wants him to tell her he loves her for her to stop feeling like one. She figures out she was never the monster by herself in S4. Mike continues to put her on a pedestal and overexaggerates her powers in the love monologue, which is no longer needed because she has figured out she...
DOESN'T NEED MIKE
but yknow who does??? will... okay bye guys this took me for ever
149 notes · View notes
m34tthews · 2 months ago
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PROLOGUE
“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”
pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader
summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.
word count — 3.7k (for prologue)
warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)
an — my first story! if anyone one is interested in a taglist please let me know. i am so excited to get started <3
masterlist
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ten years ago.
the music was too loud. bass trembling through drywall, laughter cracking like glass, the dry arizona air thick with weed and cheap beer. kids pressed shoulder to shoulder inside the house, red solo cups raised high like a toast to their invincibility.
auston stayed outside.
he’d slipped through the sliding glass doors maybe ten minutes ago, baseball cap pulled low and a half-empty bottle of water in his hand—already tired of the noise, of the heat, of the way everyone seemed to be crashing into each other like waves with no direction. he didn’t smoke. didn’t really drink either, not tonight. coach told him to keep his head on straight before nationals testing, and for once, auston actually listened.
the backyard was dim, scattered with string lights sagging between the trees. most people were inside or huddled around the pool, but she was there.
y/n.
sitting on the edge of the old wooden deck, knees pulled up to her chest, curls catching in the warm breeze. her eyes were somewhere else—fixed on the horizon or maybe just nowhere at all. auston recognized her instantly, of course. they’d known each other since kindergarten. same neighborhood, same classes, same birthday parties where their moms used to make them take awkward pictures together.
but tonight… she looked different. maybe it was the distance, the quiet, the way she wasn’t pretending to be a part of the chaos. or maybe it was the way her smile was gone.
he hesitated, thumb tracing the edge of his water bottle. he shouldn’t.
but then he sat down beside her.
“you hiding too?” he asked, his voice low, like the night might shatter if he spoke too loud.
she didn’t flinch. just turned slightly, her eyes meeting his. “something like that.”
they sat there, not talking for a moment. the silence stretched between them, soft and unbothered.
“trent’s inside,” auston said after a while, not looking at her. “doing jello shots off someone’s stomach, i think.”
she laughed, just barely. it was dry and tired. “figures.”
“you okay?”
she shrugged. “i don’t like these things. too many people pretending they’re happier than they are.”
auston nodded. yeah. he felt that.
“so why’d you come?” he asked before he could stop himself.
she turned to him, their shoulders grazing. “honestly?” her voice was quieter now. “this is usually trent’s scene. so when he picked me up to go out, i felt like i couldn’t say no.”
they didn’t say much after that. just… sat. close but not touching, the wooden deck creaking under them, the party distant like it belonged to someone else’s life. occasionally, he glanced at her, watched the way she twirled a ring around her finger. her nails were chipped. her eyes held too much for someone their age.
he shouldn’t have looked at her the way he did. she was trent’s girl. trent, his teammate, his friend.
but for a second, he wondered what it would be like if she wasn’t.
then he shut the thought down so fast it almost hurt.
they sat in the far corner of the backyard, backs against the stucco wall, red solo cups long forgotten in the grass. the music thumped behind them, too loud and too messy, someone yelling out the chorus to a drake song like it was a war cry. but here, tucked away from it all, it felt like a different night entirely.
“so i didn’t see you around much this summer,” she said, “compared to the usual awkward run-ins with our moms.”
“yeah. hockey got busy.”
she met his eyes and blinked like she had forgotten. “oh, yeah. you play hockey. i almost forgot.”
he chuckled lightly. “it’s fine. hockey’s not big here anyway.”
she nudged him gently. “you’re kind of an anomaly. desert boy playing hockey.”
“you’d be surprised. there are a few guys who play around here. it’s definitely not ideal. most guys like me play baseball too, just in case.”
“must be hard balancing two sports.”
“i’m actually quitting baseball,” he said. “hockey’s getting more hectic. i need to put all my effort into the national program.”
her eyebrows rose. “really? does trent know? you know how seriously he takes it.”
“i haven’t told him,” auston admitted. “didn’t think it was that serious. but i guess i’ll have to eventually.”
they both looked toward the house, where trent was dancing with other girls, drinks in hand. auston caught y/n’s expression—not jealousy, not exactly. more like… detachment. like she wasn’t interested in what trent was doing at all, but rather what auston was saying.
“good for you,” she said after a beat. “he can finally stop complaining about how much better you are.”
auston looked over at her. “you really never been to a hockey game?”
y/n made a face. “i live in arizona, auston. i barely even know where your rink is.”
“we play at a rink. it’s in the arena.”
“see?” she laughed, tilting her head. “you lost me already.”
he shook his head, smiling into the brim of his cup. “you knew i played, right?”
“i know you disappear every weekend and come back with bruises.”
“it’s not like that.”
“then what’s it like?”
he looked at her, really looked. “it’s… fast. and cold. and loud. and it’s the only place i feel like i can breathe.”
she blinked at that, a little surprised. her teasing smile faltered just slightly. “that’s kind of beautiful.”
he scoffed. “don’t make it weird.”
“you made it weird, puck boy. i just responded.”
he laughed under his breath, head falling back against the wall. “puck boy is wild.”
“well, what else do i call you?”
“auston works.”
“nah,” she said, grinning. “too boring.”
“coming from the girl who supports the cardinals.”
“hey.” she pointed at him. “low blow.”
“just facts.”
“i’ve been loyal. it runs in the family. doesn’t matter that they haven’t made it worth it.”
he smiled, raising his eyebrows. “so you’re into heartbreak.”
“apparently.”
they shared a glance, something soft and suspended between them, until she shifted her legs and pulled her sleeves down over her hands.
“you ever get cold at practice?” she asked.
“all the time.”
“do they give you gloves or something?”
“yeah. gear, skates, helmet, whole thing. i look insane.”
“so like… armor?”
he laughed. “sure. hockey armor.”
she looked out toward the pool, voice light “i really don’t know anything about it, you know? trent plays baseball with you, and even then he says you come back after weeks off and still hit better than him. it drives him insane.”
“he hates that,” auston grinned.
“yeah, he does.”
“do you think you’re like… whatever the hockey equivalent to michael jordan is?” she asked after a beat.
he paused. considered. “that would be greatly and definitely not. but maybe not yet.”
she smirked. “confident.”
“i have to be.”
“you really wanna go pro?”
“more than anything.”
“like nhl?”
“yeah.”
“you think that’ll happen?”
he turned toward her, eyes clearer than the dark could hide. “i’m gonna make it happen.”
there was something in the way he said it. no fluff. no cockiness. just certainty.
she watched him for a beat, then gave a small smile. “i hope you do.”
his mouth twitched, barely a smile. “you’ll be watching football, though.”
“only if the cards somehow win a ring.”
“so never?”
“exactly.”
they both laughed, and this time, it echoed softly around them, folding into the sounds of the party they were choosing not to return to. she hugged her knees to her chest, gaze flicking toward the pool where a couple people were jumping in fully clothed, shouting nonsense.
“senior year’s gonna be weird,” she murmured.
“yeah.”
“you leaving?” she asked.
“probably.”
she didn’t ask where. maybe because it didn’t matter. maybe because she already knew he’d be off somewhere cold.
“i don’t know what i’m doing yet,” she said. “college, maybe. maybe not.”
“you’ll figure it out.”
“you sound so sure.”
“you just seem like someone who will.”
she blinked, the comment slipping under her skin. warm. unexpected.
“thanks,” she said, voice barely above the hum of the wind.
they sat in the quiet again. the kind that only happens with someone you’ve known your whole life but somehow are still just beginning to see.
“you ever think about how crazy it is?” he said suddenly.
“what?”
“we’ve known each other since kindergarten and we’ve never had a real conversation.”
she gave a soft breath of a laugh. “you were always the loud one. and i was always hiding behind someone taller.”
“you’re not hiding tonight.”
“maybe i am,” she said, eyes flicking toward the door. “you just found the same spot.”
“maybe we can hide together,” he offered.
he looked at her for a long moment. the kind of look he shouldn’t give—not with who she was to someone else. not with trent’s voice echoing from the kitchen, probably mid beer pong victory chant.
but still, he didn’t look away. neither did she.
“this doesn’t count,” she said quietly. “us talking. it’s just the backyard.”
“right,” he said, just as quietly. “just the backyard.”
but neither of them moved.
that night, when the party finally began to die and the sky took on that deep indigo shade that only came after three in the morning, they were still out there.
still not touching. still not talking much. but not leaving either.
auston didn’t know what time it was when she finally leaned her head onto his shoulder, casual like it meant nothing, like it was just the most natural thing in the world. maybe it was. maybe it wasn’t. he didn’t ask. he didn’t move.
the world had quieted around them, laughter turning into tired murmurs, music reduced to a dull thump behind closed windows. sprinklers clicked on somewhere down the street, hissing softly into the dry earth.
she let out a sigh, not sad, not happy—just full of everything she hadn’t said that night.
and he felt it.
he wondered if this would be one of those moments he’d look back on and remember in perfect clarity. the ones that didn’t seem important until years later, when everything had changed and you realized that was the moment before.
before the shift. before the what-ifs. before the lines blurred.
she was still trent’s girl.
but for a few hours, on a creaking wooden deck under sagging string lights, she wasn’t.
and he let himself want the impossible. just for a little while. just for the night. just for then.
before the world came back. before the sun rose. before they had to pretend again.
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the boards didn’t give. they never did. he knew that. felt it.
his shoulder cracked against the glass as if it were the only thing trying to hold him upright, but the breath left his lungs in one harsh burst. the crowd barely reacted — a dull roar, tired applause — because none of it mattered now. they were out. again.
he shoved off the boards, wincing at the tightness in his ribs. his legs burned with every stride, but he kept skating. always kept skating.
eight years in the league and he still wasn’t used to the sting of elimination. but his body was used to everything else now — the bruises, the cold, the repetition. the expectations. especially the cold.
toronto had toughened him. years of walking from team bus to arena through frozen wind tunnels, face buried in scarf, fans screaming his name from behind barriers. the snow didn’t faze him anymore. neither did the noise.
practice ended in a quiet slump, sticks dragging along the ice, a few muttered jokes that didn’t quite land. the weight of another failed run hung thick above them. this wasn’t just tired legs. it was a tired soul kind of loss. the kind that makes your chest hollow.
coach berube stepped onto the bench, arms crossed. the look in his eyes wasn’t disappointment. not exactly. it was something more hollow. expectation unmet. belief wasted.
“you guys worked your asses off,” berube said, loud enough for the silence to sit up and listen. “i’m not gonna stand here and act like that didn’t matter. it did. but this league doesn’t hand out banners for effort. and if you’re gonna wear this jersey next season, you better come back starving.”
auston leaned against his stick, breathing steady, eyes forward. he already was starving.
“go rest. heal. get your heads right,” the coach added. “and when you come back… make sure you remember this feeling.
he stepped off the ice without another word.
auston stayed a little longer. captain duties, even when no one asked him to. he skated over to a few of the younger guys, tapped gloves, murmured a few quiet words. nothing heavy. just enough to make them feel seen.
by the time they hit the locker room, the weight of the season seemed to shed a little — not gone, but loosening at the seams. towels wrapped. gear peeled off. the familiar scent of sweat, ice, and liniment hung in the air like always.
“you heading straight to arizona?” morgan asked, dropping beside him on the bench.
“friday morning. my family already left after the game with felix,” auston said, tugging off his shoulder pads. “can’t wait to get outta the cold for a bit.”
“you like the cold now, don’t lie.”
“i am use to it,” auston said, smirking. “but nothing beats the desert.”
“gonna lay low with felix?”
“yeah. my mom’s already sending me a list of things she wants done around the house. i’m basically being put to work.”
someone else piped up from across the room — bobby, hair still wet, always too loud. “work? bro, you’re gonna be surrounded by scottsdale girls in bikinis five minutes after landing.”
auston shook his head, snorting. “i said home. not a pool party.”
“man, if i had your face and that contract, i wouldn’t be at home.”
“he’s not wrong,” came another voice, and laughter rippled through the room.
auston leaned back, towel around his neck, arms resting on his knees. he’d gotten used to this — being the punchline of every comment about his love life (or lack thereof) like he was still in his twenties. like he hadn’t seen more people throw themselves at him than he could count. and yeah, sometimes he indulged.
it was easy. too easy.
but none of it stuck. but he couldn’t help it when he saw his teammates and their partners he was left with the lingering question of what if? he struggled to ignore the twist in his gut with how much he craved the same love they shared.
he blinked the thought away, let it get swallowed by the buzz of voices.
“you’re the only one left,” morgan said quietly beside him. “everyone else is married. or close.”
auston smiled without meaning it. “yeah, well. not really in the market.”
“you’re not even window shopping, huh?”
“not lately.”
he didn’t add that he hadn’t even looked twice in months. that he’d grown so used to the empty space next to him that it started to feel normal. and maybe that was the worst part — how normal it felt to come home to no one.
he ran a hand through his hair, pushed up from the bench, and started gathering his things. the weight of the “c” on his chest didn’t feel any lighter, even now that the season was over.
but in arizona, at least there were no cameras waiting. no questions. just desert air, his family, and felix. no schedules. no noise. just time — and he was starting to think that might be the only thing he really needed.
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auston’s flight touched down in phoenix earlier than expected, but stepping off the plane, he felt every bit as drained as if he’d run a marathon. the familiar arizona heat wrapped around him like a heavy blanket, but it did little to shake the exhaustion that clung to his bones. the playoffs had ended too soon, and the sting of elimination still lingered, dull but persistent. as he pushed through the crowd, searching for the familiar face waiting for him, relief flickered when he saw alex waving by the curb, a grin already lighting up her face.
“about time,” she teased as he climbed into the passenger seat of her car, “thought you’d never make it.”
he offered a tired smile, sliding in beside her. “planes were delayed, actually got out earlier than i thought.”
alex glanced back at felix in the backseat, who was already wagging his tail excitedly. “and here’s your real welcome home committee. can’t have you coming back empty-handed after all that.”
auston chuckled softly, the first real sound he’d made all day. “yeah, he’s the only one who makes this feel like home sometimes.”
alex studied him in the rearview mirror, picking up on the weight he carried. “you okay, little bro? i mean, i know the playoffs didn’t go how you wanted.”
he shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, it sucks. feels like a long season just ended too soon. sometimes i wonder if all this—the pressure, the spotlight—if it’s really worth it.”
alex’s voice softened. “you ever think about taking a step back? maybe not rushing back into everything?”
he looked out the window, watching the desert blur past. “i don’t really have a choice. expectations don’t pause just because i’m tired.”
she smiled knowingly. “i get it. but hey, you never brought anyone home before, huh?”
auston blinked, caught off guard by the question. “what?”
alex laughed, nudging him gently. “seriously. not once. this place, this family—rarely got to see the people you care about.”
he looked down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “guess i never figured it was time. or maybe i was just waiting for the right reason.”
“well,” alex said, shifting gears as they turned onto the familiar neighborhood streets, “i’m glad you’re home now. mom’s been ready to spoil you since the day you left.”
pulling into the driveway, their parents were already waiting, smiles wide and arms open. auston’s mom enveloped him in a warm hug, squeezing him just enough to show she cared without overwhelming.
“we missed you,” she whispered.
he smiled tiredly, “missed you guys too.”
“take a nap if you need it,” his dad said, clapping him on the back. “but don’t get too comfortable—we’ve got plans.”
auston groaned good-naturedly as he peeled off his jacket. “yeah, yeah, i know.”
his mom grinned and called after him as he headed upstairs, “felix has an appointment this afternoon. change and take him, okay?”
he paused, turning back just as she teased in spanish, “es tu hijo, tienes que cuidarlo.” he is is your son. you have to take care of him
auston nodded, his exhaustion making it hard to formulate a proper reply, but the meaning was clear—and it made him smile.
auston sank down onto his bed, letting out a long breath as felix immediately jumped up beside him, curling close like he sensed auston needed the company. the dog’s warm fur pressed against his side, and auston couldn’t help but smile despite the heaviness he felt.
“hey, buddy,” he murmured, running a hand gently over felix’s head. “long day, huh?”
felix let out a soft whine, resting his head on auston’s chest, tail thumping quietly.
“yeah, i know. playoffs sucked. sometimes it feels like the whole world’s watching and expecting, and it’s just... too much.”
felix shifted, nuzzling closer, like he understood without words.
“you ever get tired of all the noise?” auston asked, eyes closing slowly. “i swear you’re the only one who doesn’t judge me when i just want to be quiet.”
the dog’s paws stretched over auston’s stomach as if giving a hug, and auston chuckled softly.
“you’re a good guy, felix. way better than most people i know.”
felix gave a little bark, almost like a laugh, before settling completely, his breathing slow and steady.
“alright, buddy. nap time. but don’t go anywhere, okay? i need you here.”
with felix curled up beside him, auston felt the tight knot of stress loosen just a little. as his eyes fluttered closed, the steady warmth of felix’s body was a small comfort, a quiet reminder that some things—some bonds—don’t change, no matter how far you go.
after a quick shower and change, he found felix waiting eagerly in the living room. kneeling down, auston ran a hand through the dog’s soft fur, feeling the familiar, uncomplicated comfort only a loyal companion could offer. the world might be heavy, but for this moment, it was just him and felix, and that was enough.
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y/n pushed open the glass doors of mesa animal care just as the morning sun filtered softly through the windows, casting warm light across the quiet clinic. the heat of arizona was already building outside, but inside, the cool calm felt like a small comfort. she adjusted her cardigan, pulling it a little tighter around her. she didn’t have pets herself—never had—but she loved animals in a way that didn’t need owning. there was something simple about them, no expectations, no judgment, just pure presence. that was enough for her.
at the front desk, the receptionists greeted her with their usual teasing smiles. “i see you still didn’t throw that out after missing the playoffs, y/n,” one said, nudging the other. “still rooting for them, huh?”
y/n rolled her eyes but smiled back. “can’t be worse than your toxic relationship with the cowboys. they haven’t won since before your hair turned grey, old man .”
dr. murray, the clinic’s gruff senior vet, poked his head out from the back hallway. “hey, cardinals fan, your patient’s here for immunizations.”
“which one?” y/n asked, already grabbing her clipboard.
“felix,” he said. “and the owner’s here too.”
she nodded and made her way down the hall, still not putting it together. she hadn’t expected to see auston matthews here—not after all this time. her mind flickered back to that night years ago, a memory she thought she’d tucked away.
when she pushed open the door, the room was quiet except for the soft panting of a golden retriever resting calmly on the exam table. a man sat beside the dog, his back to her, fingers gently stroking the fur. she smiled softly and introduced herself, “hi, i’m dr. l/n. i’ll be taking care of felix today.”
he shifted slightly and then slowly turned around. her breath caught. auston. it had been years since senior year ended, since they’d last spoken, but here he was—older, quieter, but unmistakably him. for a moment, neither of them said anything. just held the space between the past and the present. finally, she managed a small, surprised smile. “auston.”
next
© 2025 M34TTHEWS
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yanderecrazysie · 10 months ago
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Twisted Zoo Ending Two: Our Angelfish
NOTE FOR MAINLY QUOTEV: Please stop asking for updates. It’s incredibly stressful and considered rude by most authors. I understand and honored that you’re excited to read my story, but please stop saying “Update?” and things like that. I don’t know when the next update will be, probably within a month.
This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .
I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.
WARNINGS: yandere themes
Note: For Tumblr, the mature version of the endings (the afterendings) will begin sometime after I finish all the normal endings.
Note 2: I think they’ll all be short. Sorry. Also not even trying to go in order at this point.
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When you stepped through the employee’s entrance to the aquarium, you could tell something was wrong right away. The water had steam rising from it and the room felt uncomfortably warm, reminding you slightly of the savannah.
Azul surfaced in the middle of the tank, his chin just above the hot sea water, and Floyd and Jade surfaced near the edge.
You walked closer and dropped to your knees at the platform’s edge, sticking your fingers into the water. Yes, it was definitely very warm.
“Is there something wrong with the tank?” you wondered aloud.
“No, angelfish, everything is perfect,” Azul said smoothly.
Immediately, clawed hands grabbed each of your arms, so tightly you were sure they’d leave marks, and pulled. You fell headfirst into the water and swallowed a lungfull of sea water before you could react properly. The salt stung your eyes and your lungs already ached for air since you hadn’t had time to hold your breath.
Your arms were released for a moment and you surfaced, gasping for precious air, then choking as Azul poured something into your gaping mouth. You stared at the octopus and he grinned at you unashamedly.
“What was that? What did you make me drink?” you asked, trying not to panic. Surely it was just something to help you breathe again or something? Right? Azul wouldn’t do anything to harm you, would he?
You started to swim back to the platform, but Floyd and Jade grabbed your arms again and dragged you further from the edge. “Let go! Now!” you demanded, but they merely chuckled at your plight.
“Let go of me!” you shouted, hysteria starting to rise. Your legs were starting to feel strange, tingling painfully, and you couldn’t move them any longer, held up only by the two eels.
“No, Shrimpy,” Floyd replied, giggling.
You looked to Jade for help.
“It’s time for you to join the family,” Jade replied simply.
You jolted as one of Azul’s tentacles wrapped around your legs, squeezing them together tightly, “We’ve been patient, angelfish, but it’s time now. This is where you belong.”
“Forever!” Floyd added with a loud giggle.
Pain shot through your legs and your skin began to prickle like a thousand needles had been stuck into them. The agony- it felt like your bones were shifting and reshaping themselves!
“Relax, little researcher,” Jade whispered, his warm breath on your ear making you shiver despite the warmth of the water, “It’ll be over soon.”
“Embrace it,” Azul encouraged, “We’ll take such good care of you.”
“Embrace… what?” you asked amidst the pain. Then you looked down at your legs, to see what was causing you so much agony. 
You stopped breathing altogether.
In place of your two legs was a beautiful white tail, much like how you would picture a mermaid’s, but with a silvery, translucent fin at the end of the smooth white scales. 
Beautiful, yes, but wholly unwanted.
You began to scream. At first, it was a wordless, terrified scream, but it turned to calls of help. “Mr. Crowley! Zookeepers! Anyone! HELP! PLEASE!”
You fell silent, trying to hold your breath, as the eel halflings dragged you under the surface. At last, when you could no longer hold your breath, inhaled underwater. You were even more horrified to realize you could breathe through the water with ease now. 
The eels dragged you into a huge sand castle they had built themselves, Azul following. You curled up and began to cry. Who would help you now? Who could help you? 
Somewhere above the surface, watching through the cameras, Mr. Crowley smiled.
He couldn’t wait to advertise his aquarium’s newest and most precious addition: the angelfish halfling that would never leave, as long as Jade, Floyd, and Azul were alive.
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ohisms · 1 year ago
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↪ 𝑽𝑨𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 . ( a collection of sentence starters from the 2004 film . adjust phrasing as necessary . mature themes present . )
oh , [ name ] . it's just you .
where are you going to run , [ name ] ?
what are you saying ?
why do you think i brought you here ?
you said you believed in my work .
i would kill myself before helping in such a task .
you've been so kind to me , [ name ] .
you can't kill me , [ name ] .
so , you're the great [ name ] .
we all have our little problems .
let's make it your decision , shall we ?
i wish you a week in hell .
why don't you do something about it ?
this is all a test of faith .
i can curse all i want , dammit .
you . turn around .
strangers don't last long here .
the laws of men mean little to me .
i don't need your help .
you stay here . they're trying to kill me .
nice to see you too , [ name ] .
did i do something to you in a past life ?
i hope you do have a heart , [ name ] . because someday i'd like to drive a stake through it .
your reputation precedes you .
i am hollow ! and i will live ... forever .
please , say you will not try again .
do not fear me ... everybody else fears me .
i was unprepared . it won't happen again .
do you understand forgiveness ?
i would rather die than help you .
don't be boring , everyone who says that always dies .
may he rest in peace .
how long has it been , 300 , 400 years ?
you don't remember , do you ?
what exactly is it i am to be remembering ?
it's no surprise you would know all about me .
we have such history , you and i .
have you ever wondered why you have such horrific nightmares ?
[ name ] , it's alright , i'm taking you home .
what , did you think we haven't tried everything before ?
no one knows how to kill [ name ] .
i could have used that information earlier .
would you like me to refresh your memory a little ?
allow me to ... reintroduce myself .
i think we've overstayed our welcome .
don't give me that look .
you were right . i'm sorry .
monster ? who's the monster here ? i have done nothing wrong !
look , there's still time .
you were right . i'm sorry .
do you have any family , [ name ] ?
if you value your lives , and the lives of your kin , you will kill me .
evil may have created it , may have left its mark on it , but evil does not rule it .
now you know why they call me a murderer .
oh my god ... you've been bitten .
so much trouble ... so much trouble .
now you will become that which you hunted so passionately . may others be as passionate in their hunting of you .
don't worry , god will forgive us .
how many commandments can we break in one day ?
oh my god , you should be terrified .
how does it feel to be a puppet on my string ?
neither of us has ever settled for half .
you make my skin crawl .
i'm not gonna like this , am i ?
one brief moment of pain , and we can be together forever .
you have no heartbeat .
you are nothing but damned bones , and damned souls .
well , that doesn't sound like a good thing .
we don't have a choice . just don't get killed .
you don't understand , it doesn't matter what happens to me .
god is not the only one that can create life .
you can't go until i say you can go , and i say you can go when you're dead !
you're supposed to die .
we are both part of the same great game , [ name ] , we just find ourselves on opposite sides of the board .
you are being used , [ name ] , as was i . but i escaped , so can you .
if you're going to kill someone , kill them . don't stand there talking about it .
all i want is life . the continuation of my kind .
some things are better left forgotten .
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yunamoona · 9 days ago
Note
list your favorite fics from your mutuals 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
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YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL!!!!
here they are! + reasons why each is my fave too <3
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starry-eyed singer [siren!satoru gojo x scientist!reader x scientist!suguru geto] by @besidesjustmyamour
⤷ i am just always a lover of anything siren or mermaid themed but THIS. ONE. oh my stars. The tension with Suguru goes haaaard and ANAHSJUAHNN i can’t spoil it but. UGH. He who is him look but don’t touch. And Satoru?? MMMM don’t even get me started. Hurts my heart a little. I can’t gush anymore or I’ll spoil the whole thing before anyone can read it. So underrated btw
party 4 u [fratboy!satoru gojo x reader] by @junuru
It’s so great gatsby coded. I was smiling and giggling so much, I love this type of reader. “I can’t believe you’re real.” WHENEVER I SEE THIS PHRASE ANYWHERE I TEAR UP IMMEDIATELY. It’s so cute. I love when the man is yearning his heart into pieces
hair care routine [suguru geto x reader] by @justtimings
⤷ I love the scent choice for his hair products sm, this one is just soooo cute <3 ik that hair softer than liquid silk 😩
noise complaint [roommate!suguru geto x reader x roommate!satoru gojo] by @caffine-exe
⤷ they make me so mad. i read so reader doesn’t have to be alone with them, eagerly awaiting for her to gut their asses. and fuck them. whichever comes first, or both at the same time. Love this one sm and so so excited for the updates <3
just barely [kento nanami x reader] by @dearsnow
⤷ My man crying. Enough to bring me to tears every reread oh my god i want to hold him
parallel parking [dilf!toji fushiguro x reader] by @nanamisbbygirl
⤷ uber to my dickSHE IS NOT MY MAIN CHICK BUT SHE STILL GON GET HIT!!! this because this the type of reward I deserve whenever I attempt to parallel park. (I can’t) this one’s the fav bc it’s the first dilf!toji i read instead of scrolling past, and now ill never skip out on him again 🙏🏽
first love/late spring [suguru geto x reader] by @throatgoatgeto
⤷ so you see, I really just can’t resist a mitski reference. The banter with suguruu yumm (but I lowkey want Shoko.) author is SOO funny with it you will be wheezing
piercer!sukuna x reader by @bistrocatxx
⤷ I don’t really like sukuna. Is what I said before reading this next thing I know I’m foaming at the mouth for this god forsaken man, venus u converted me </3 pussywhipped sukuna supremacy!!!
still my girl [exhusband!satoru reader x reader] by @edensrose
⤷ crying some more. He’s just so and he. Like let’s kiss and make up?? Immediately. The portrayal of Satoru is just so correct im smiling and crying </3
homeward bound [kento nanami x reader] by @cupidstrace
⤷ just do not speak to me after i read this. My eyes are sweating. Profusely. The letter at the end oh my god OWWW. 10/10 about to reread and cry again
he keeps you between his ribs [suguru geto x reader] by @sugurusladyknightt
⤷ tears. I’m crying. Ho is you a poet (you are. And I love you for it) scalpel in hand I’ll get to his heart one way or another
plotting [satoru gojo x reader] by @straows
⤷ this is peak Gojo behavior he did this. he’s literally so stupid. him and his twitter someone stop him. (Don’t. Let him obtain more knowledge)
cowboy like me [outlaw!yuki x reader] by @meanderingwistera
⤷ I don’t see many Yuki x readers but still this one is one of my favorites of them all <3 like yes take me away bae let’s run away together scissor city bound!!! can’t wait for the next part 🩶
i hope I didn’t bug anyone by @ing I’m sorry ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ you’re all so very wonderful <3 xoxo
and ty for the ask anon, hearts to you
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the-moon-devi · 1 year ago
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Spiritual, Nurturing & Caring Aspects || Synastry Observations PT.2
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Sun 4h overlay: If you had 4h overlays, you know how comfortable they feel, especially when it's a benefic planet like Venus, Moon, & Jupiter. You feel very close & secure with that person. Within this connection, it seems like the two are on solid ground, and you can trust each other. There is a wanting to settle down and start a family. I always say that within synastry, the sun shows where most of the energy will be focused on, and major themes that will play out. So here there is a sense of spirituality, nurturing, and caring for each other. Especially on behalf of the house person. Sun lights up these qualities within the 4h person.
Moon 4h overlay: This overlay shows that you feel very comfortable with each other on an emotional level. There is likely even more of a wanting to start a family. Both can feel very sensitive about each other, and there's more likely to be a lot of expression of how the other feels and when they don't feel secure. The moon is very up & down like the waves of the ocean, and the 4h shows us our home so there can be many changes in your home, the moon person can change the security of the house person a lot. These two are very close. You'll likely see them in the corner cuddling together at a party. On a spiritual level, they can feel like they met each other from somewhere before. And likely they have, on an intuitive level, they know that something is there but can't quite put their finger on it. When these two do live together, you can almost guarantee their home will be so cozy.
POF-JUPITER: "Our cup overfloweth" This aspect is similar to POF-Neptune, which I explained in Part 1 is very spiritual. The difference here is that Neptune is more transcendental. While Jupiter is more grounded spiritually. These two together bring important lessons into each other's lives. There is a desire to explore and learn more. They can be fairly different and come from different backgrounds. Pof is our fortune & Jupiter is the planet of luck. Especially with the quintile & conjunction, there can be a lot of money made together. When these two are together, they attract a lot of wealth & blessings. Things seem to come out better when they work together. With POF-Jupiter, Jupiter person expands personal luck & freedom. Jupiter acts as a teacher/ spirit guide towards the person. Travel, spirituality, business, etc. are all things that will have fortune while these two are together. These two do it big, and there's so much opportunity for growth & abundance. Major wealth indicator as well. (Conjunctions, quintiles, sextiles, & tries)
Ps: Anytime someones pof is conjunct one of your planets, or vice versa this shows that they or you are a part of your fortune. This does also represent fate.
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JUNO-CERES: This causes a very protective union. From Ceres especially there is a lot of care & nurturing. Juno will feel so comforted that they want to commit to Ceres. Domestication & home life are something that these two value as well as loyalty & commitment. Juno is the goddess of childbirth, and Ceres is fertility/children. I wouldn't be surprised if after these two got married or entered a long-term relationship, they had children. This is a great fertility indicator.
VENUS CONJUNCT CERES: This aspect is beautiful. Just know that home life will be glorious, and alone time is intimacy for these two. They enjoy spoiling each other much like Ceres overlay 7h. They love living together and want to create a family. They can make wonderful parents. Venus loves how Ceres is so nurturing & understanding. They have so much patience & serenity within their connection.
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VESTA-VENUS: "You lit up the flame inside of me." This aspect is purely spiritual. Venus is the planet of love, harmony, beauty, luxury, etc. Meets the asteroid Vesta, which shows the sacred flame, devotion, and heart. When these two energies come together, Vesta teaches Venus person the lesson of sacredness & purity. In Greek mythology, Venus is represented as aphrodite. Together, these two can blend the different energies and realize they are more compatible than they think. Venus admires the sacredness of Vesta and urges them to show their inner beauty. Venus can feel like they have found what brings their fire back. Venus helps Vesta get more in tune with their sexuality. This can turn tantric, and kundalini sex can occur. This is a very devoted aspect. The home is a sacred & beautiful place for these two if they choose to live together. Vesta introduces Venus to this spiritual side of life, and it's so much love they can create. This can feel like a soulmate connection. This aspect alone shows they both come from different walks of life, and they have met with each other for a higher calling. This sacred energy is ignited through love & devotion. (CONJUNCT, TRINE, QUINTILE, SEXTILE)
Eros conjunct Psyche: "We've done this before" This is a very rare aspect to have. I see it as a soulmate indicator and one of the strongest. Most of us know the story of eros & and psyche, but if you don't, I hugely recommend you enlighten yourself. Eros & psyche were pushed away from each other due to jealousy & hate. Psyche went through many trials & tribulations to get back with Eros, and Eros hadn't known there was a conspiracy to get them to break apart. Eros can hide themselves from psyche. Initially, eros is usually the one who is taken aback by psyche. Psyche feels something there, but they just can't put their finger on it. (Conjunction orb: up to 8°)
CERES 7H: When someone's ceres enter your 7h, just know that this will be a very protective & nurturing person regarding the relationship. There will be healing & unconditional love. The house person will view ceres to be comforting & they can become very dependent on them. This is also a very touchy Feely aspect.
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AKASHI 7H/ CONJUNCT DSC: Akashi represents the sky or the akashic records. This configuration shows a past life relationship, you two probably have met multiple times and have contracts to complete together. This shows it was meant for you two to encounter. When you are together pay attention to the signs the universe sends you they always have a message.
Moon conjunct Jupiter: This is a classic marriage aspect to men because the moon represents the wife, and Jupiter is the hubsand. If you want more of an explanation, I did a post about this on my other hand - @hot-astrology. Here's the link. But anywho, this aspect is very soulful.
NOSTALGIA 7H/ CONJUNCT DSC: Similar to the aspect above this shows a past life connection, however, this shows that there's a presence about the Nostalgia person that the house person recognizes but doesn't know exactly where, how, or why. They just have an inner feeling that they have met the other before, this feeling can go both ways.
Venus 12h overlay / Venus-Neptune
TRISTAN 7H/ CONJUNCT DSC: Tristan represents where we have had our first. Tristan is devoted & passionate. This may show that this is one of the party's first serious relationships or long-term relationships. There could be a lot of first f ok r the house person. They can be each other's first love. There can be a theme of strong infatuation & sacrifice for the other.
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𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝐷𝑒'𝐿𝑢𝑥𝑥𝑒
𝐵𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝐴 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝐻𝑜𝑡 𝐴𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑦
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muletia · 8 months ago
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MULETIA
GIVE ME OBSESSED! KNOCK OUT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS
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[ btw it's perfectly fine if you don't 👍 I just think it'd be neat and I thought this would be funny ]
𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦
[tfp] obsessed!knockout x human!reader very mild 18+ content
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summary: a relationship between individuals of two species in which one species obtains food or other benefits from the other without either harming or benefiting the latter
cw: obsession, yandere themes, possessiveness, suggestive, dub-con (not nsfw), clinginess, very messy relationship, knockout sends you spike pics lmao, reader's pov to knockout's pov
word count: 1400
You’re awakened from an unusually pleasant and long nap by the buzzing of your phone. You groan in displeasure, honestly preferring just a few more minutes of sleep, which, in your groggy, half-asleep state, feels like the best idea ever. You roll onto your other side and cocoon yourself tightly in your warm blanket, ready to welcome sleep back.
Your phone interrupts you again, but you’re determined not to give in. Pulling the blanket up to your ears, taking advantage of your partial awakening, and trying to fall asleep once more. That is until another vibration triggers a small earthquake on the coffee table. Whoever it is must have an extremely urgent matter to be this insistent. Finally, you give up. Reaching for the phone, you unlock the screen. What you see in the notification panel instantly banishes the last remnants of sleep from your body.
“Jesus Christ,” you whisper.
A hundred and thirty-four messages. From none other than the Decepticon lunatic who, some time ago, forced his way into your life. Before you can even move, another message pops up.
You rub your forehead, unwilling to even think about the implications of such a message count. You have a general idea of what he’s after—this kind of behavior is standard in your… relationship—but you still want to know what exactly prompted him to send so many texts.
Most of them are just spam repeating your name, differing only in the number of exclamation marks at the end. Others threaten that if you don’t respond within thirty seconds, he’ll personally show up at your doorstep and demonstrate the consequences of ignoring his majesty. Occasionally, he mentions that he misses you, even though you just saw him yesterday. However, such sweet sentiments are rare. Much more often, he bombards you with seductive longing, praising your (exceptional for a human) skills in the art of interfacing and expressing how badly he wants you by his side to “refresh his memory” on the matter. As proof of his misery, he’s sent you pictures of himself in very suggestive poses, one high-resolution 4k photo of his swollen and leaking spike, and a video you don’t even dare to open.
The last shreds of your sanity, combined with a reluctance to spend money, stop you from tossing your phone into the microwave.
You don’t need more proof of him being a freak. In fact, don’t need anything from him at all, having been accidentally dragged into matters far larger—literally—than yourself. You never secretly dreamed of an alien who’d make it his goal to torment you simply because he’d taken a liking to you. And certainly didn’t ask your creator to have alien dick-pics pics sent to you.
You want to reply and tell him to kiss your ass and leave you in peace, but the last time you tried that tactic, Knockout didn’t contact you for the most blissful two days of your life. After that, though, his sulk ended. When his majesty decided to visit you, he didn’t leave your side for a week, demanding attention and constant physical contact. For someone who cared about maintaining his image, he looked particularly miserable back then—especially while begging for your “pathetic, fleshy, and frail” body.
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Massaging your face, wondering how much time you have to pull yourself together before Knockout shows up at your house, demanding attention. As it turns out, you have practically none, because even from inside, you hear something—or rather, someone—pulling into a driveway, revving an engine as if impatiently calling out to you. You don’t feel like testing the limits of his patience to see how long it takes before he punches a hole through a wall. And you’re absolutely certain that’s what would happen.
Before stepping out of your cozy home for who knows how long, a stream of colorful curses escapes your lips. However, even that doesn’t clear your mind enough to prepare you for the show your unwelcome companion is sure to deliver.
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His desire to drag you out of your sanctuary grows with every click, because you should’ve joined him by now. Oh, what an ungrateful, pitiful little human you were. Hadn’t he drilled it into your head by now that such games weren’t part of his repertoire? That he hated being made to wait? Not to mention the audacity of ignoring him for a torturous two Earth hours without responding to his romantic messages. And on his day off, no less. The nerve.
Hidden servos itch to transform and barge through your door. To pull you close and extinguish his longing, to fulfill needs so intense they scared even him. Because during those two hours of separation, he genuinely felt like he was dying—though he’d rather deny it than fully accept the power of his affection. Signals, hints—those were fine. But never an open display of softer, warmer emotions. You didn’t need to know about them. No one did. As long as he had consistent access to you, as long as he knew you were nearby, existing in the same world as him, his true feelings remained locked away.
When you open the door, he immediately notices your displeasure. Had prepared for this sight; knew you wouldn’t be happy, but the lack of any enthusiasm stings his ego. He wanted to see a smile, hear praise. A sign that you weren’t doing this out of obligation, even though he knew the truth.
Plans to show how deeply offended he is, even as your presence excites him more than he’d anticipated. Without regard for being seen, he transforms instantly, mass-shifting as he pins you to the front door. Your sweet scent envelops him, teasing his senses. Stimulating places hidden from the eye.
He needs you. Your attention and touch. The taste of human skin he once found repulsive but now can’t get enough of.
“Someone will see you, idiot,” you hiss. A warning, but it’s already too late for reason to reach him.
He kisses your neck hungrily, greedily, drinking in your closeness. Reclaims familiar territory, leaving his mark again to remind you, just in case it slipped your mind, that you belong to him. Despite his greed, trying to be romantic. He doesn’t torture your skin, keeping a rhythm. It’s the least you deserve - he hasn’t taken that away from you yet.
“I don’t care,” he growls between kisses. Draws closer to your lips, pausing briefly. “Why did you ignore me?”
Resumes his ministrations, wanting to see how you’ll handle him this time. How you’ll manage to rein him in, always appreciating your fighting spirit. You matched his ferocity and determination, completing him. A spark and an extinguisher. Fire and ocean.
“Because I was sleeping,” you reply as if your absence hadn’t driven his processor to ruin. To the point of risking exposure just because he couldn’t control his desire. Your indifference sometimes infuriates him.
He huffs; that’s no explanation.
He’s not ready to pull away just yet. Truthfully, if it were up to him, he could shower you with affection endlessly, and even that wouldn’t satisfy his appetite. Leaves kisses at the corners of your mouth until finally claiming the cherry on top.
“Knockout,” you interrupt sharply, “someone’s going to see you.”
Reluctantly, he pulls back, fighting the flickers bursting in his spark and the wave of heat enveloping his body when his name escapes your lips. He shifts back to his original size and transforms, already opening the car door for you.
“Careful, doll,” he purrs as you settle inside. “Say my name again, and this will end with more than just kisses.”
Ignores your groan of frustration as he speeds off, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
“Do you even care about me?” you ask, scanning the scenery outside the window, breaking a silence that had lasted a while.
He’s silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Or maybe too proud to admit it aloud? To let you into his spark and show you the chaos you’ve caused there? To shed thousands of layers and reveal his most intimate self?
No. He won’t give you that satisfaction just yet.
The seatbelt tightens around you slightly.
You smile, but he can’t quite discern what emotion you’re trying to convey.
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starrieangel · 7 months ago
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🎄❤️Mouthwashing Crew on Christmas💚🎁
Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday ♡ Here's my present to you all: more headcanons!!
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Features: Curly x Reader, Anya x Reader, Daisuke x Reader, Jimmy x Reader
rb's appreciated! 💚❤️
Curly☃️
I think Curly would love surprising you..!
He's up before you, already has the coffee (or hot chocolate or tea) ready for you when you wake up. 
When you finally get out of bed, there's extra presents under the tree, and the tree is even more festive and beautiful than how you left it!!
(Is Curly Santa..??)
He's not materialistic in the slightest, but a good gift means a lot to Curly if it shows you put a lot of thought into it..! It makes him feel special that you are thinking about him ^u^
He's a good gift giver, but bad at wrapping them XD He's trying his best ok !!!
After opening presents, you guys cuddle and watch your favorite goofy christmas movie while cuddled up in your new sweaters/socks/blankets :)
His favorite part of Christmas is Christmas dinner tho, and you guys whip up a big feast and invite all your friends and family !!! 
He’s the classic “my boyfriend only cooks meat” stereotype, like he cant cook but he will fuck up a christmas ham or a thanksgiving turkey or a barbecue.. let him cook fr
Bonus: Curly is definitely the Santa at the office Christmas party..!! Maybe you get to sit on Santa's lap ;D 
Anya❄️
Panicking because she's bad at getting gifts..!! 
She gets to the store and.. oh no there's too many choices
“I'm not sure what candy Y/N likes... I'll just get one of each.. oh dear..”
She would try making handmade gifts like sewing or knitting or crochet but she doesn't get them done til the last minute...
She dang near cries when you see the itchy, raggedy sweater she made you and you beam at her “I love it!!!” and you do! because she made it ♡
I feel like she likes peppermints and candy canes... just her vibe
You two make a gingerbread house together !!
Yes it falls apart a little, but it doesn't matter because you both had so much fun making it :) (and decorating it with all that candy she bought !!)
Bonus: She is a based eggnog drinker. And maybe she does spike her and Daisuke's eggnog at the office Christmas party ;D
Daisuke🎁
Ugly Christmas Sweater Party Winner 3 years in a row
(I like the popular headcannon that Daisuke likes thrifting, so) He loves going to the thrift to find ugly christmas sweaters (so you can match) and even finding cool antiques/retro items to give as gifts!
Always gives at least one prank gift, but otherwise he is pretty thoughtful! 
He doesn't get you a present unless it really reminds him of you! I feel like he gifts thrifted vinyls and jewelry, secondhand designer, like his gifts are honestly peak and they're always perfect for you
He's in charge of the Christmas party!! and he's committed to packing as many christmas themed activities into it as possible
Dedicated Christmas Movie Showing, gotta watch all the classics!
Hot chocolate bar, christmas cookie buffet, pin the nose on the reindeer, ALL OF IT 
Strategically ties mistletoe to ensure highest occurrence of Kissing You ;3 “Uh, oh, Y/N! Looks like we're caught under the mistletoe.. again! How unlucky.. guess we'll have to.. you knowww..” >:3c
Bonus: He would get tipsy at the office christmas party and would try to hug you or kiss you the whole time, and you’re like “plz ur embarrassing me”
Jimmy🎄
Jimmy is actually really good at getting gifts. Like, really good. Like, you mentioned this thing in passing 6 months ago, and he either remembered it or bought it for you and hid it for 6 months. He knows exactly what to get you!
He's not really a huge fan of the holidays
That being said: He enforces Mistletoe rules like it's his job
Everyone thinks he's a grinch, so he doesn't usually get the best presents from others. It doesn't help that he never makes a christmas list or tell anyone what he wants 
(mostly because he doesn't want to be disappointed when he asks for something and doesn't get it, or he's afraid to ask for something “dorky” that he actually really wants)
When you ask him what he wants for christmas, he just kind of shrugs and says he'll like whatever you get him
So it's extra special when you return the favor and get him a gift just as thoughtful as he gave you :) You get him the video game or album or band tee (idk what men like) that he offhandedly mentioned weeks ago :) He can't hold in his surprise that you remembered!
“Woah, babe! I can't believe you remembered.. This is perfect, thank you baby” And then he wraps you into a tight hug!
Bonus: Yea, Jimmy had to fill in as Santa one year when Curly was busy/sick....... He made a kid cry.
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know in the replies what you think, send an ask if you have a request, and rb if u liked! Thanks for reading!💚❤️
Merry Christmas!! ☃️💚🎄❤️❄️❤️🎄💚🎁☃️❄️❤️❄️❤️🎄💚
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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 1 month ago
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✦✧✦ Chapter 6 ✦✧✦
On The Family Tree, A Tiny Robin Perches On A Tight Rope
Richard 'Dick' Grayson
Warning this part contains: Cringey shit from me reading regress manwha, Made up and mixed non-cannon timelines of DC, Change of Ages, Cursing, Death and slight dark theme, Cannon Deaths (falling), Manipulative actions and thoughts, Murderous thoughts and actions, This is like slow-burn but in a platonic yandere sense?, MC has hidden anger to everyone (the lvl to each just differ), MC is Evil in the sense of making sure no one can hurt them first, has obsessive mindset to create the perfect family and a very special guest at the end.
UNEDITED AND NOT PROOFREAD YET
Note: FINE I'm using YN but it's still They/Them, MC is now 14 yrs old yey! and yes they are the oldest in the family, finally we're now with the other members of the family, this mostly will be MC pov and the families pov in the end, a bit like what I did with Bruce and MC in 4&5 but since my mind is brain dead this will be in longass parts because I like to torture myself, Longer parts for the main and one-shot with the rest.
MASTERLIST pages 5 , 6......
Now Playing ↻◁ ||▷↺ mazie - dumb dumb ılıılıılılılıılıılı
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Only small years have gone by yet everything seems to settle down easily for me and Bruce or my Dad now I guess.
So easy that I can curl my tiny fingers around him while making sure he thinks I'm still sitting nicely in his palm, just simply doing what normal Father and Child do with an addition of Alfred becoming my sort of non-biological Grandfather to me, it's so easy to pretend around them, like lying to a kid.
Schooling was a breeze, I just have to keep up appearances and all, besides it's easy to fool children and using those dimwitted snotty rich kids under my control.
I have a few more months to prepare until one of the official kids practically pulls up hand in hand with Bruce along with the adoption papers but that's alright-
After all a perfect family should be complete with little brothers and sisters running around.
Richard Grayson or Dick came first as he always do in every reset, the very first common variable in my problem, a character that's always prominent in the story, the first ever boy wonder and the prodigy of Batman but now that I have an opportunity to change things? I'll make an even better scrip just for him.
He was the Eldest even though I came first, He was the most reliable and the one everyone looked up to while I was the unreliable and useless one, He was the first child Bruce took in because he felt sorry for him and not the one force to him in one day like me.
Oh woe to me and my miserable, sad and pathetic life.
It all began after Bruce asked me to watch the traveling Haly's Circus along with me, again something that never happened before my other life even when some of those I begged for him to bring me but now he's the one who asked for me if part of the reason I said yes, the rest? is probably to maintain the typical Wayne Family font as well as making a mini fundraiser for entertainments in Gotham, a tiny addition from me, I had to make great impressions to stay at in the good graces of this city, making sure my hard work will pay off in the end and to prevent any more issues that could cost a new fracture in this reset.
If Batman has contingency plans then so do I
Many of the Richer families came as well, surprisingly I finally see the Drake family together for once with the little Tim standing between his two parents who was a bit eager to have a word with Bruce, I almost forgot that Tim was also watching the flying graysons to back then.
I stare at the adults talking as I stand with another new cane on my right since I out grew the first one and a large cotton candy on the other hand before noticing the little boy on my side looking at me with stars in his eyes, a weird look coming from him since I rarely met him this early, not that he even looked at me with those eyes before.
'A tiny outline of Robin's mask was drawn on his face before quickly glitching away'
"Y-... you're THE YN Wayne..oh my god-". He gushed as I raised an eyebrow showing a bit of a surprise before concealing it and sending him a fake smile, cute kid not the usual -overdose caffeine and prioritizes more case files and more 'interesting' people- boy.
"Hello, nice to meet you". I said and held the cotton candy that I haven't taken a bite out of to him as I perfectly timed a flashed of the paparazzi's camera aimed at us.
He looked at the treat in his hands and look up afterwards but I was already walking away with Bruce entering the largest tent where the show would begin.
I watched as a large boyish smile grow in his face before hiding my frown to him for being gullible and easy to fool nature.
'A bit weak and dependent, not yet maybe a few more years and see if he comes out perfect'
During the show, I didn't bother pretending to be at awe, The people were amazing and living up to their name being the best traveling circus in the world even when I knew what's really behind this amazing facade.
Seeing a person on the open flap of the tent, I observe them sending signals to someone near the trapeze equipment before disappearing while I felt someone eyeing me and Bruce from the other bleachers on the other side before turning towards the figures of the Graysons as he opens a pocket watch with engravings of an owl.
'The court of owls will be the perpetrators? or was it a collaboration this time?' I wondered the possibilities since I don't see the familiar face of Tony Zucco and his usual lackeys anywhere before paying attention to the flame breathing stunt in front of me.
It would have been easy to prevent this death but I know the circumstances will change and end up ruining my odds, so the death of the Flying Graysons did infact happened and there's nothing more I can do.
Watching the two lovers plumenting to the ground, their body smacking straight in the center, a haunting pose of where the fingers of the two barely reached one another but failed since Death is a poetic bitch.
I pick out the tiny form of the younger grayson among the ruckus of people screaming and running away, he tried pushing against the other members of the circus so he can reach his parents but was held back to prevent him from getting more traumatize.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to see Bruce behind me then clocked the direction on where I was staring and watch Dick crying in the ringmaster's arms, a familiar look in his eyes as the scene reminds him of something that happened to him years ago.
'A pity really' Their voiced echoed in my head as they stand next to the man with the owl pocket watch, they seem to like them for some reason.
As we were escorted outside, Bruce did a quick check if I was alright but I simply coaxed him to the little Robin's direction using his poor weeping heart to have the Big Bat swipe the kid away from that Owl.
While Bruce comforts him, I stand amongst the sea of panicking people just observing them until I become aware of someone approaching me, someone who finally answered my suspicion.
"Seems like your Father took a liking to a different child". He said as he laid a gloved hand on my shoulder.
I chuckled at his feeble attempt to manipulate me before looking up at him with a tiny smile on my face.
"Well to me it looks like my dad just has too much compassion in his heart, Mister". I clarified instead as I take his hand off me, turning to stare and giving him a fake smile with something sinister just hiding behind my teeth.
"It would be best if you don't show your face anywhere near me for now, Great Uncle Jacob". Stating with a kind voice while hiding a threat underneath my words.
"You wouldn't want Bruce connecting you to the Graysons family death after what happened to your first stunt now, would you?" I taunt him from what happened in the early years of Bruce becoming batman and his failure as I get a scowl in return.
'Grumpy Gruncle' They snicker behind his legs, poking the dangling pocket watch.
He huffs and sneer at me before quickly walking away and disappear within the masses of people surrounding the area.
'Shouldn't have done that' They said as they lean on my back as they watch the owl flying away quietly into the night.
"Sorry I had to, he killed me 5 times and 2 of those were just dumb luck, so dumb it just pisses me off". Muttering I stab the ground with the end of my cane and twist the grass under in irritation.
✦✧✦✧✦
In the end Dick was put under Bruce's care till he can manage or in the back of Bruce mind finally get the adoption papers ready and officiate everything, really wanted to know which one would win first if I left it alone.
But I guess things just won't go my way this time. Dick was, how do I say this? quite different from who he was before or technically what he'll be in the future, Dick was the most joyful and charasmatic person you'll ever met but this kid?
He's angsty and a bomb ready to blow up with the mere mention of his parents and I understand him, I do and I knew once he became Robin it won't be long till he slowly become the Dick Grayson I knew from my past resets.
No matter, I just have to make sure this one falls right into place, a little editing in the scrip won't cause too much of a problem.
I remembered when he first arrived at the manor I was helping Alfred make dinner for the four of us - Alfred included because I want a proper family and that includes him eating with us even if it's just for dinner-, Bruce was introducing me and Alfred to him went he just stayed quiet and walks off after the older man was told to lead him to his new bedroom, Bruce then was wearing a frustrated look making me snicker as I stir the pot.
"It's not funny kid". He grumbles before taking a seat on one of the stools on the island counter as I watch him think on the side.
"He's just sad Dad give him a break you can't really blame him" Implying on why he stormed off as I scoop up a tiny portion of the soup with the ladel before tasting it.
"I wanted to kill everyone when Ma died" I added as I spot him tensing up at my violent confession but stayed quiet, turns out I finally know the feeling of how spoiled kids get when they're own parents don't reprimand them about their bad behavior.
I wonder how far can I get away
Few more weeks he kept being moody and snappy to Bruce occasionally to Alfred as well making me annoyed at his attitude and slight fear that if I don't act now there won't be a Dick Grayson Robin in this reset.
'A perfect brother will never act like this'
When Bruce had to leave for a sudden mission outside of Gotham either by himself or maybe with another hero who's been nagging him as of late, I took the chance to plan something.
Finding him in one of the manor's gym room as he climbs and do tricks on some of the gymnastics equipment inside.
"Hey! Grayson come down for a bit would you?". I called out to him as he hangs on the still rings.
"If Bruce sent you then forget it, I'm not interested in anything you guys want me to do" He grumbles as he pulls himself up.
"Bruce is gone for a week, I have something else in mind so you better get down from there or else" I jokingly threaten him as I lean on my cane and hiding my other hand behind.
"or else what?" He did a somersault in the air before landing on the thick foam, he's form perfect with minimal errors and then glared at me with his arms crossed.
"Or I'll have someone take down every equipment in this room till you have to swing on those trees on the garden like a monkey". Before smiling at him as I shove a bouquet of consisting of white Lilies and Hyacinths to him.
"Now, let's move it flying kid or you'll miss them". I declare and walking out after as he quickly put on one of his windbreaker jacket over his tank top and followed me.
Leaving the manor with Alfred's permission he kept on asking where we're going on the way but I just stayed quiet till we reach the largest cemetary in Gotham and entered as we arrived infront of the grave of John and Mary Grayson's.
Alot of trinkets were given in tribute to the two acrobats, from Fans to friends and family, I stand there infront of their graves as I sense Dick's anger rising.
"You-! do you think this is funny-?!" He fumes out as he grip the flowers tightly and ready to throw it at me when I cut him off.
"Let me ask you something Richard and I want the honest truth from you". I turn and look at him as I lean on my cane.
"Did you really mourn properly to your parents? stand right here and cried for them since that night?"
"Yes! of course I did!"
"Then why are you still angry? like the world has wronged you?" I reach out hesitantly then gently lay a hand to his head before patting his hair gently like how you'll coo over your angry dog.
"It's because you haven't so that's why I brought you here, I'm not forcing you to move on from your parents nor am I forcing you to become another part of a new family" I move my hand to his shoulder and turn him to face their tombstone.
"Just because your saying goodbye doesn't mean you'll be losing them, for now just take your time and stay here as long as you like and we'll come back to the manor whenever, a good cry never hurt anybody". I patted his back and turn away to head somewhere deeper in the cemetery
"Where are you going?" I hear him yell out but still standing in front of his parents as I answered him back.
"The cinerarium!".
Turning into night I was sitting infront of the many urns on the walls filled by the cremated remains of the people in gotham when he walked in and sit next to me, eyes swollen and nose a little stuffy while his cheeks are slightly red.
"Who....were you visiting?"
Not answering him I just lift my cane and pointed at a brown urn with a framed picture of a woman over it.
"Oh....." He realized and curled a little to himself before sighing and shuffled in discomfort, it's no secret to anyone that my mother was only famous because she had a night with Bruce and had me before dying in a mugging gone wrong.
"You know, when she died that night it felt like my world came crashing down too". I confess as felt his stare burning at the side of my face, I kept talking nonetheless.
"I wanted to hurt everyone and put the blame on the people who failed to save her, I didn't even get to see her face again before they cremated her because I'm just a kid who can't pay for a proper funeral".
"But no matter what I do or what I feel the world won't care and will keep on turning with or without you because that's life" Then turning to maintain an eye contact with him.
"The thing we can only control is what you'll do after, I had to be kidnapped by the Joker to realize that maybe it's better to make sure no kid like me ends up having their parents or love one cremated or killed with no justice, it's to live with your loses and win something else instead".
"I hope you'll use that anger and acrobatic of yours to good use Richard, you're still a kid, 10 even so go and make the most of what's left in your childhood before it's too late, if you don't want to be a part of the family then that's fine, it's ok no one's gonna fault you for that, your parents would've have wanted you to be happy nonetheless".
" We're here for you and have our full support, ok?" I convey to him before standing up and asked him if he's ready to go.
'As a perfect older sibling, it's my duty to look after you right? just a few nice words and kindness can push you to where I need you to be'
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Staring at their face I make out the moon behind their head in a way like a halo does to an Angel as they look at me with a simple smile full of understanding and kindness hidden deep within.
Nodding I reach out but then became a bit hesitant before wrapping my arms around their waist as I laid my head on their chest due to the fact we have a large age difference and height.
"I hope I didn't push anything too far today Richard". YN said as they rub my back with their free hand.
"No it's fine, I'm sorry you had to do this to make me understand". I replied before parting away for a bit to look at them.
"And call me Dick, I- it's a nickname I swear!". I quickly retort back when they snicker at my name.
"Ok ok I know, it's unique don't worry about it kid, now let's go back before Alfred gets more worried". They mumbled the last part before wincing as the both of us quickly head back to the manor.
Arriving and walking pass the opened gates, we were greeted by an angry Bruce Wayne who came back early from his 'business trip' and a frowning butler at the entrance but before he can lecture us, YN pulled them both to the side and let me off the hook.
I take in the sight of Bruce quickly going calm and quiet by the mention of YN softly calling him 'Dad' as they pull him further away but not before turning to wink at me as they motioned me to go up the stairs and hide from the earful of the two adults in this house.
Quickly rushing up I watch as they entered a corridor and leave the main entrance before standing up to walk back to my room to freshen up when something caught my eye.
Turning my head I see on top of the fireplace was two large beautifully framed paintings of the original Wayne Family where Thomas, Martha and a younger Bruce are and the other was a painting of a younger Y/N and Bruce Wayne like one of those old family portrait from the movies or inside the rich people's mansion when we were invited to their parties.
I study the way the painter has captured their face, the emotion in their eyes and that same simple kind smile they showed me back at the cemetery, In the portrait was them hand in hand with Bruce to show their unwavering connection as a Father and child and a strong small hand around the cane on their lap that to me symbolizes their strength and bravery after the tragic accident from the worse villain in Gotham- the Joker, I remember it vividly but the news went nationwide to worldwide at some point.
Like Mona Lisa, a warm smile that seemed too real or even a smile that hides the sadness of their broken heart because of what they went through as a kid like me.
Maybe having an older sibling won't be that bad, it's nice to be looked after, I like it when they give their attention to me and take good care of me, I like them-
I like YN alot.
During my time in the manor it felt like I was in a family again, Bruce Wayne becoming a great father-figure now officially adopted father who turns out to be THE Batman! how cool is that?! adding to that was Alfred who became like a grandfather to me, I never had one before but the thing I mostly look forward to everyday is YN.
It felt so nice to have them around and be anywhere near them, the laugh they do when I make jokes, their smiles and encouraging words when they found out I was becoming Robin to help Batman, I just hope they don't find out the reason I became one anyway.
"That's great! I'm happy you found something else to do but promise me, you'll be safe alright?" YN said their worried words making me feel warm inside before teasing me on my choice of clothing causing me blush.
"Can't you just give him leotards Dad?" YN snicker at Bruce who just rolls his eyes as he watch us over from the Batcomputer.
Everything was going well for me, saving gotham, beating up criminals and the villians in this city and having YN around to make me feel like a real kid when things are rough.
Being a Wayne is hard work too! Bruce was nice enough to let me keep my last name and I get to have it and they still treat me like family! Bruce showed me the ropes and basics of having a rich life and then sent me to school which somewhat sucks BUT YN was there to kick the boredom and everything that's boring about school away, not only that but I now understand why Gotham likes them so much. Gala's with them are so fancy but YN makes it work, they're barely a teenager yet everytime I looked at them surrounded by all the rich and money hungry adults to me it always looks like YN was the adult entertaining little greedy children. Most of the time YN focuses on the needy of Gotham making sure the money they raised in Gala's and Charities are going to the people unlike the one's that invites my parents or the circus just to entertain them and make fake promises and events just to fill up their pockets.
Having the Robin mantle is so awesome too! I get to help Batman fighting the bad guys and villians like a superhero, meeting wonderful people and even be there when Bruce -as Batman of course- made the Justice League, I MET SUPERMAN!!, then there's also Batgirl which Bruce revealed was Barbara Gordon -which was Gordon's kid!- that's hilarious, though it's not funny when she keeps stealing YN's attention, just because they're the same age doesn't mean it weights more than them being my family, my sibling, MINE!
My new life and Family is going pretty well until-
Until that assassin Slade or Deathstroke whatever his stupid name is was sent as a hitman by someone to kill me! Everything went down hill after that, YN was angry at Bruce for letting it happened almost crashing out after finding out who tried to kill me if it weren't for Alfred and Bruce calming them down, Bruce, he was either angry at me or at himself for almost getting me killed, not only that he wants me to stop being Robin!
That's not fair! just because of a little accident doesn't mean I have to stop being a vigilante and lay down the Robin mantle for good!
It was all falling apart until I was saved by YN again as they came up with a plan and get Bruce to change his mind.
"I think you should leave this house for a bit, leave gotham and go somewhere else"
What?
"Maybe it's because Dad doesn't trust you enough to keep on being Robin, maybe you need to just find yourself out there".
Leave? why do I have to leave you?
"Head to Jump city, it's a good place to start from there, I'm sure you'll find friends or even make a group like what Bruce had with Batman in Justice League".
I don't need to go anywhere! I want to stay with you!
"Please Dick, I can't see you falling again you were meant to fly but this thing with you as Robin with Batman is pulling you down," YN said before hugging me.
"I promise I'll keep in touch with you, but for now I'll take care of Bruce and try to talk him out when he returns from that space mission, He can't stop you when you're far away". They then kissed my head before seeing me off to head to Jump City.
And I promise to come back even stronger and become a better Robin to prove I can stay by your side.
Heeding their words and advice I did end up meeting new friends and making a group I could also call family, The Teen Titans while I was in Jump City we spent a lot of time saving the world, becoming a great team, and even closer as a family, it was nice but nothing could beat being a family with YN.
Just like they promised they talked with Bruce making him trust me to keep the Robin mantel, only making me feel even more thankful towards YN but in exchange I had to join another group that was more official and under the guidance of the Justice League for any of their side-kick or apprentices.
It's a bit humiliating to still be in Batman's shadow so I did something about it and became Nightwing, a name that Superman helped me with, a separate hero from Robin and from Batman something I made for myself, I'll do anything to make sure YN efforts were not in vain and make the most of the chance they gave me, it's only fair to show gratitude to your older sibling when they gave you another chance to make up for your loses.
Is it fair though? when I have to share them with another sibling? it doesn't seem fair to me, in fact, why did I have to do all of this just so another kid could swoop in and take my place?
But a good brother must learn how to share, a good brother knows how to be patient and a good brother must be nice towards the younger one even if the younger one is a little stealing piece of shit.
It's fine, it's fine! Everything will go back to the way they were soon, I just have to wait.
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Playground - ↻◁ ||▷↺ Bea Miller (Arcane 1) ılıılıılılılıılıılı
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As the night air of Gotham City filled his lungs, a figure quickly jump and ran past many buildings and rooftop with his fast and agile skills to get to the location of his new client.
"This one better pay more than what it's worth for sending me back in this bat-infested hell hole" He muttered as he sneaked into the warehouse and climbed up the catwalk leading to a dimly lit room filled with busted computers and machinery littered with cobwebs and cockroaches.
Reaching towards a desk with an old office chair facing out near a grime and dust-covered window looking out towards to Crime Alley of the city.
"Who is Death?". He rolled his eyes behind the mask when a voice asked as he answer the code to announce his presence.
"The Lamb and The Wolf". Upon saying the correct answer the chair then slowly swiveled to face him revealing a man sitting in the seat with his eyes staring straight towards him that were blank with a tinge of green in the irises, the veins from his face down to his neck and wrist were glowing in a bright hue of green.
He tensed up but moved forward to look closely at his supposed client when something or someone moved behind him, quickly turning he pulled out his gun to shoot and missed just to hit the only lit light in the room since they were too fast before something touched his forehead.
Feeling his whole body suddenly drop on the metal ground as his arms and legs become paralyzed and heavy, he can only use his eyes to look around trying to catch the face of the perpetrator but fails due to the shattered bulb and the weak moonlight coming through the skylight of the warehouse.
"It's nice to meet you again Mr. Deathstroke" He could hear their voice regarding him by his alias but couldn't pinpoint their direction due to the pounding of his head and the hazy effect running throughout his body.
"Can I call you Slade? Or maybe for proper manners I should cal you as Mr. Wilson instead?". They asked as they revealed his real last name.
Wilson's eyes slightly widen from their knowledge of his identity but quickly hides his surprise to prevent them from ever getting the upper hand, he meticulously makes sure no one can dig anything important about his personal life, who is this person to know his last name.
"I really just wanna guess what you might be thinking but just for funsies how about I do this instead?-" As they talk the sound of something thudding along with footsteps rumble on the metal floor before they show their face to him.
Slade Joseph Wilson, a man whose name makes the powerful people in the underground tremble in fear for their lives should they ever be the one at the end of his gun or sword, the man who will be the fastest and deadliest assassin in the world, who will take down many heroes and gods alike by his own, superhuman abilities, skills, power, and sheer will.
Felt more fear than he ever did from his years in this cruel and unmerciful world, his heart kept pumping like he just run for more than a few miles, he's instincts and guts screamed at him to run and flee like his life was -for the first time- truly in danger.
That person was not a nobody or even one of those rich, snobby, and pot-bellied men or overconfident and lustful women that usually hire him, no they were none of that.
He knew them, even before he took that job to kill Robin, how could he not? It was a massive secret among the underground who YN Wayne was, every normal rich person knew they were only a child born from a one-night stand Bruce had with some woman but only the real people working for the Big man and the real deal knew who they were.
YN Wayne was not just the ordinary child of Bruce Wayne that was born out of an accident and the Beloved Child of Gotham, No they were also the precious grandchild of the only daughter of the Big Man himself who went missing years ago until her untimely death he was so feared and no one even knew who this Big Man is, He was never afraid of the guy but still choose to stir away just in case.
He fears no man and everyone fears him but this foreign feeling consumes his head as he watches the young Wayne kneel down and give him a wicked smile as they tap their cane on his mask to take it off.
"Would you look at all those thoughts running into your little murderous brain". They speak out of fascination and interest disregarding the man lying below as he continues to hyperventilate from their intrusion into his brain.
Reaching out to touch his head again, the veins in their hand glow the same as the ones from the unmoving man on the chair once they come near his skin, As soon as their fingers and his skin touch a wave of pain and shock zapped throughout his body making him scream.
An Excruciating pain where he feels his body getting ripped apart from his joints, flesh, and even his skin then to be put back together.
"Stay still I just need something from you" Their smile widens, and the faint glow of green brightens more as they dig deeper into his head as the pain grows and screams slowly fill the abandoned warehouse.
After some time Slade woke up from his forced sleep completely delirious as he remembered the moments that happened awhile ago.
"Looks like the Deathstroke finally woke up from his killer sleep". He heard YN's voice and he turned to see them sitting on the desk as he found himself on the chair.
Slade quickly moves on his feet as he finds the adrenaline and anger deep inside his body when he feels their hold on him no more, He slams them on the table with a hand on their throat before grabbing his military knife that was miraculously still in his belt before aiming it at their throat.
As he tries to stab the weapon in their flesh, his hands shake and tremble from a sudden strong force stopping him making him frustrated and glare at the child.
"Stop resisting and enough with your meta-powers kid, this ends with you dead and a payment for trying to -might I add- put the fear of god on me". Slade growled and tried to choke the barely teenager kid but they just smiled as his hand around their throat loosened by what he felt was his will.
"I said quit with the-" He growled out in frustration but the kid just let out a laugh as they watch him struggle.
"Powers? What powers Mr. Wilson? none of it is working right now you're a smart man you should have caught on by now that I'm only using it when my eyes glows". They explained as they stay lay limped on the table while watching the knife on directly above their eye shake in his hands.
Slade took note of it and studied their eyes that was back to their normal color and notice that their hands were on the side not even touching him, Trying again he reeled his arm back and drove down but his hand keep stopping by just an inch near the Wayne's eye.
"I'm not the one controlling you Mr. Wilson" They mock him as Slade backs away and look at his hands in horror.
"What have you done to me?!". He shouts as the knife clatters on the floor as he sends a murderous look at the child, YN just shrugs as they sit up on the desk and lazily look at Slade still holding a small smile.
"Nothing much just did a little tweak in your brain". They smiled before grabbing their cane and jumping off the desk to walk around the defeated Slade who fell on his knees.
"I knew talking to you without me getting killed would never be a possibility so- I took your will to kill or hurt me instead- Technically now it's you who's stopping yourself". They revealed before stopping in front of Slade as they looked down at him, their eyes revealing the small glow under the shadows of the room.
"You see there's something in this world that you just don't understand yet Mr. Wilson but you don't get the privilege to know that just yet-" The young one kneeled down as they peered through his soul revealing everything that Slade hides behind his eyes and mind.
"What I want you to know though is that You don't belong in my script, you weren't supposed to be a part of this but you just made a mistake and squeezed yourself in any way". They sneered at him before gripping his jaw with their small hands in a surprisingly very tight grip that almost broke his bones, Slade groaned in pain as he tried to talk while his jaw was starting to lock.
"What fucking scrip are you talking about you psychotic shit-"
"Shut up you don't get to talk, by the way that little shit you pulled to Robin? you don't get away with that, Batman might let you but I won't" Their grip tightened even more and Slade could feel his teeth and gums as well as his jaw crack from their inhumane strength a far cry from what fragile, gentle persona, and form they present to the world.
"That little Robin belongs to Me and I get a say on whether or not I don't want him anymore, I won't let you destroy my plans and my perfect family just because you're dumb enough to get played by the Joker to kill my perfect little brother". YN divulged the truth as Slade's eyes widened from the confession and the dots that connected in his head.
"Don't even think about using the truth or bother remembering this because I won't let you ruin my game". They said reading his thoughts before delivering a harsh smack with their cane to his cheek that was strong enough to send him back to the ground.
"I already got what information I wanted from you so I'll let you go until I need something from you again". They then smiled before touching Slade's head one more time and scrambling more into his brain.
"You won't get to remember this but somewhere or some time you will when I want to and when that happens make sure you follow what's written down for you, I don't like Improvs". As Slade roars in pain and anger his body fails to follow his orders to fight back the room around him shakes and distorts in and out of reality as a silhouette of a person with glowing eyes consumes his vision and reaches out their fingers to crawl deep into his brain forcing the memories of his mind to be blocked deep inside.
"You'll pay for this!! I'll find out everything and once I do I'll rip off your little brain with my bare hands!!" He declares as his eyes roll back slowly losing to the darkness only remembering those haunting eyes staring into his soul.
"We will meet again Wilson, if Death and the Fates permit it".
His world fades as the laughing and the sound of steps walking away from him fade.
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HEY! What's up sorry for the long wait I added more stuff from my original version just for you guys! and more YN lore!
Anyway sorry for the weird narrative and mixing of TT (2003) and YJ in one universe I know they don't exist at the same time but TT has a special place in my heart besides this is just for the plot I won't be dwelling too much around them other than possible one shot if it comes to it.
So the versions here should be a mix from:
Prime Earth, Some of Post and Pre-Crisis, Teen Titan, and YJ but this doesn't have to be cannon cannon, So many things could still change.
Bruce has two feral children in his hands now and a few more coming in oh boy.
I added two new villains for now and some will keep coming in the next update Hope you guys liked this
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