#SHE THOUGHT HE WAS GONE AND SHE GOT HIM BACK

[blitziwitchwrites]

DADDY WANTS A BABY!

pairing: ex best friend’s dad!ryomen sukuna x happy!reader

content tags/warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, filthy filthy filthy smut, ooc sukuna & ooc uraume, cheating, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and sukuna is in his late 30’s/early 40’s), older boyfriend x younger girlfriend, uraume is sukuna’s offspring, afab reader, mentions of cheating (uraume slept with reader’s ex-boyfriend, hakari), cuteness with little yuji, breeding, unprotected piv sex, lowk yan!sukuna, feral sukuna, size difference, overstimulation, DADDY KINK!, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering. rough/intense, slight jealousy sex, sukuna gets jealous that you gave yuji so much attention so he’s gonna give you a baby of his own, choking, hair pulling, mentions of car sex, clothes ripping, sukuna is lowk FERAL

summary: six months after your best friend, uraume, slept with your boyfriend and, in return, you slept with their hot father sukuna, you end up at a family barbecue at jin itadori- uraume’s uncle and sukuna’s twin brother-’s house. however, this time, you’re not there as uraume’s best friend, but rather, sukuna’s date. except uraume isn’t all that happy to see you there with your dad. luckily for them, yuji manages to distract you throughout most of the night. unluckily for you (aka extremely luckily for you), sukuna has a thing or two to say (and do) about you ditching him to hang out with his little nephew.

author’s note: AHHHH I KNOW THIS TOOK A WHILE, BUT HERE IT IS!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE LOVE ON PART ONE! hehehehehe here we go.

word count: 5k words

here is part one!

—————

if you got your hands on a time machine and went back in time to seven months ago, and told yourself about your present-day life? you wouldn’t have believed it for even a moment. which, honestly? how could you?

not only was your seemingly loving and devoted boyfriend, hakari, cheating on you… but it had been with your best friend, uraume. that information alone would’ve devastated and broken your heart, and it did, but what helped soothe the blow and made the pain far more manageable? you managed to get your revenge. not only did you fuck uraume’s father, sukuna (who you always thought hated you your entire life… turned out that was not true), but you were in a full blown relationship with him! six months in, you were already moved out of your parents’ house (they possibly had the world’s biggest freakout when you told them why you weren’t so heartbroken over uraume and hakari’s betrayals) and in with sukuna, sharing a bed with them- which uraume loathed. however, unable to afford a new place- and unwelcome to move into hakari’s apartment (after they got together as their own little ‘revenge’ ploy, despite the obvious disinterest in a serious relationship on hakari’s end), uraume was suffering.

and you couldn’t be happier.

except, while uraume’s suffering and burden of having to manage their ex-best friend loudly fucking their father every night was certainly delicious, it wasn’t why you were happy. no, sukuna treated you like a queen. he loved you far better than hakari ever did or could, and the side of sukuna that he’d shown you over the past six months had completely blown you away. you’d never even seen him kiss uraume’s mother, before she left. and yet, sukuna couldn’t seem to ever get his hands off of you. passionate kisses in the kitchen over coffee, running his hands along your skin when you were trying to brush your teeth and get dressed for school in the morning, pressing his fingers deep inside of you and up against your most sensitive places during nearly every car ride- you never thought sukuna’s love language would be touch, and yet, it clearly was one of his biggest ones, if not his biggest one.

today was no different. it was summertime, and it was a hot and sunny day out, and it was the day of one of the annual family events for the sukuna household that you had always gone to: jin itadori’s summer family barbecue. however, instead of going as uraume’s special guest and friend, things were different this time. you were with sukuna.

by the time you two arrived at jin’s house, you were already almost two hours late. uraume had arrived with hakari a long time ago, along with choso and yuki- jin’s eldest step son and kaori’s oldest son, and the boy’s fiance. but it wasn’t your fault! the two of you kept getting distracted when you were getting dressed, your light blue swimsuit hugging too tightly to your curves, your cleavage exposed and your pretty pussy just looking too tempting in the pretty fabric for sukuna not to have a taste (or three) before the two of you left. when you put your cover-up on over your swimsuit, sukuna looked at you like you’d committed the kind of heinous crime that even he was incapable of committing. and then, just to emphasize his claim on you, he couldn’t help but pull over the car on the side of the road halfway through your travel to jin’s house, bending you over in his backseat to pump you full with a load of his cum before finally managing to drive the rest of the way to jin’s house before he lost his self control and just drug you back home to rip it off of you and spend the rest of the day with his head between your thighs and his cock knocking on your womb.

when you walked inside jin’s front door, entering the foyer of his large house, you were immediately greeted with a view directly into jin’s kitchen, where he stood at his kitchen island, a large knife in his hand as he finished cutting up a ripe and fresh watermelon. sitting in the stools at the island, uraume and hakari’s gazes automatically snapped towards you. uraume scowled, their face scrunching in disgust at the way sukuna’s hand smugly squeezed your waist, his arm wrapped securely and possessively around you. meanwhile, hakari’s eyes roamed up and down your body, clearly taking note of your cover-up that just barely hid the shape of your body and the dip of your breasts. hakari’s breath hitched, earning a smack in the arm from uraume, while you smiled at jin and walked with sukuna into the kitchen, jin slowly setting down the knife and putting it away… all too aware of the dynamic between the four people he was now, unfortunately, trapped in the kitchen with.

“hi, jin!” you cheerfully chirp, your face lighting up as you step away from sukuna, over to his twin brother, who was much more tattoo-less and clean cut than sukuna, but not quite as muscular or sharp as him either. jin’s face softens, a gentle smile resting on his face as you wrap your arms around him in a hug, resulting in his hugging you back, tugging you close and giving you a firm, friendly hug. he had always liked you, even more than he liked sukuna’s kid, which he was never all that proud of. when sukuna had informed him of everything that happened, he was quite surprised to find out that his twin brother was fucking his kid’s best friend, but… he was just glad you were okay. at least someone was looking out for you. and you would always be considered family to him. “hey, kid. how have you been?”

“oh, she’s been good.” uraume said, their tone icey and cold and matter-of-fact. “i mean, how could she not be, considering she’s been sleazing around with my dad and all?”

you sigh, pulling away from jin as he shoots uraume a glare that tells them to behave themselves. hakari glances at uraume, and then at you, before he shrinks when he sees sukuna’s eyes land on him. the color drains from his face- for the past six months, anytime sukuna saw hakari, it wasn’t pretty. sukuna wouldn’t allow hakari in his house, always telling uraume to make him leave. hakari knew not to mess with sukuna… even if he loathed the man much more now than he did before for stealing his girl (as if it was sukuna’s fault that he couldn’t treat you right). 

“did you need any help?” you ask, looking up at jin, straight up ignoring uraume’s taunts and attempts at getting a rise out of you. today was not the day for that- at least not for you. you weren’t going to cause a scene in front of the rest of the family. uraume was perfectly capable of looking stupid all on their own.

“actually, yeah.” jin said, scooping up the rest of the diced watermelon that he had sliced, placing it in the large serving bowl at the center of the table, “can you bring this outside? yuji’s been asking for it for an hour now, i just haven’t had a minute to finish prepping it.” jin said, looking over at you, before passing you the bowl. “i’m sure he will be quite happy that the food is being delivered by the person he’s been most excited to see all month.”

your heart swells, and you smile, giggling softly as you take the bowl from jin. “aw, i’m so excited to see him too!” you chirp, turning to exit the kitchen. before you do, a large tattoo hand rests on the island in front of you, stopping you before you can head outside. your face turns red as you look up, batting your eyelashes at sukuna while he leans down, cupping your cheek with his free hand. he tilts your head back, pressing his lips against yours, gently pressing his body against you. you back into the island, squeezing the bowl of watermelon, melting into sukuna’s kiss as you return it, your face turning even more red as he bites your lip hard enough for it to puff up and swell, his teeth marks imprinted into your flesh before he pulls away, dragging your lip out with his teeth.

“for fucks sake, dad.” uraume growls, getting up from the table. they huff, scowling at the two of you as you ignore uraume and hakari, too lost in your own little world of love to care about the steam erupting from their ears. uraume then huffs, grabbing hakari’s wrist as he watches attentively, his eyes glued to your face and the way you bite gently down on your swollen lip while you look at sukuna, his heart clenching before he scowls up at sukuna, turning to uraume, before stumbling after her as uraume storms outside, disgusted by the scene of the kitchen.

sukuna’s eyes flicker up as he watched uraume and hakari slide out the back door, into the backyard. a low chuckle escapes his lips, before he looks down at you, grinning to himself. “oops.”

“yeah. oops.” you tease in return, a soft laugh leaving your lips before you gently pull away. “alright, i’ma go see yuji. i will catch you in a bit.” you smile gently, before you turn, walking out the back door as well with the watermelon, sukuna’s eyes trailing down to your ass as you leave. 

sukuna bites his lips, watching as you leave, before he glances over at jin, whose face is red as a tomato from the awkwardness of what he just witnesses. he glances over at sukuna, before he huffs, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looks at his brother. “you better not hurt that poor girl.”

with a low grumble, sukuna rolls his eyes and looks away from jin. his gaze falls out the window as he watches you approach yuji, who is sitting at one of the back tables. as he watches yuji scream and jump out of his chair, pouncing on you before sitting on your lap and beginning to babble and yammer to you as he munches on his watermelon while you listen, his heart squeezes. sukuna lets out a small breath, shaking his head. hurt you? “never.”

—————

you, in fact, did not catch sukuna in a bit. or, well, it was moreso that sukuna did not manage to catch you. 

for the rest of the night, every time he managed to get close to you and strike up a conversation with you or get a moment alone? yuji came hopping right along, snatching your attention away before sukuna even had a chance to compete. and he would drag you away every time. he would drag you to the pool to watch him do canonballs in the shallow end (where you waited in the pool to catch him, every time, not wanting him to hit his head or hurt himself by accident). he would urge you to follow him to the grass to look at his mother’s new flowers or to look at a bug he managed to find and catched. even when everybody was eating at the tables, yuji begged to sit on your lap, to which you did, helping cut up his burger into little pieces and break up his vegetables and place his straws in his juice box. and you would stay with him while the two of you ate, watching how you would study yuji eating to make sure he didn’t choke, the boy continuously forgetting to chew his food and talking quickly to you with food in his mouth, just so excited to talk to you!

by the time the night was ending, jin had started the bonfire in the backyard, and the stragglers left at the barbecue were all seated in chairs by the warm glow of the fire. sukuna watched you sit in one of the lawn chairs by the fire, yuji curled up in your chest, gently sucking his thumb as his face rested on your chest, his cheeks squished up against you as his face gently glew from the warm fire, the little boy sleepily speaking to you while you listened, gently stroking his hair in the meantime. 

sukuna hated it. the little boy had stolen your attention all night! he had barely gotten a moment alone with you since he arrived, and truth be told, sukuna was about ready to pry the kid right off of your lap and give him two seconds to decide if he wanted sukuna to toss him in his bed or toss him in the bonfire. but the only thing keeping sukuna at bay? was how incredibly sexy you looked while being so nurturing and practically motherly towards his nephew, and how much the little boy looked up to you. sukuna had never felt this way, even towards uraume’s mother when uraume was a small child. sukuna had been young. way too young for a child, and truthfully, sukuna did not want to be a parent. he stayed regardless, however. his father walked out and he could not bring himself to do the same to uraume. and sukuna stayed with uraume’s mother, but he never found attraction in her. she’d been a random one night stand, who got pregnant, and insisted on keeping the baby and raising it as a couple. for years, she’d begged sukuna to marry her. but he just couldn’t bring himself to. he never even slept with her after uraume was conceived. he had been celibate for uraume’s entire life… up until you.

and now? sukuna understood. and it was then that he decided: at the next family barbecue, if you were to be this distracted that you couldn’t manage to find a moment to pay him any mind? it wouldn’t be simply because of yuji. it would be because of your own offspring. sukuna wouldn’t mind as much if you were distracted, due to taking care of a child… as long as it was his.

—————

“sukuna, fuck!”

you hadn’t even made it to the end of the hallway of sukuna’s entryway before your swimsuit was already stripped from your body, your thin cover-up shorts and the bottoms of your bikini tossed across the room and hanging off the stairway leading to the bedrooms. you’re already up against the wall, your back pressed flush against it, your legs draped over sukuna’s shoulders and your hands locked in his hair, his head buried between your legs already. 

sukuna’s tongue swirls around your clit repeatedly before he hums around it, causing you to jolt and let out a screech. as you cry out, sukuna slips his hand between your legs, two of his fingers pushing into your tight little hole, squeezing around his fingers as he sucks on your clit and hums. sukuna curls his fingers inside of you, the calloused pads of his fingertips pressing against your gummy walls as he pumps them in and out of your walls. he quickly finds your g-spot, pressing on it as he nips as your clit, causing your legs to spasm and shake while your thighs clench, squeezing his head as his eyes stare up at you from below.

you scream, your walls squeezing and clenching around sukuna’s fingers as he moves them faster, your clit aching and twitching as you kick your feet. you arch your back, tugging harder on sukuna’s hair as he devours your pussy like a man starved, his eyes never leaving your face. meanwhile, yours roll into the back of your head as you scream, your feet swinging and your toes curling as sukuna inserts a third finger into your tight hole. your entrance goes redder, straining and flexing, slightly burning in the best way from the stretch of sukuna’s thick digits inside of you, pummeling and pushing into you, stretching you open as your fluids gush onto his fingers, your guts swirling with need as your mind grows foggy.

sukuna always fucked you like he needed you more than air, but tonight? you had never seen him as needy as he was right then. he pushed you harder into the wall, shoving his face deeper into you and sucking harder on your clit as he pumped his fingers faster. you scream, your back arching against the wall as your hips buck into his face more, your knuckles white from how hard you tug on sukuna’s hair. stars cloud your vision, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and tears spilling from your eyes as you hit your orgasm, your fluids gushing across sukuna’s face as your walls convulse and squeeze, clenching violently around sukuna’s fingers.

and yet, he doesn’t let up.

Instead, he steps away from the wall, but eagerly takes you with him. he slides his fingers out from inside of you, moving his hands to grip your ass as he takes you upstairs, not pulling his face or his tongue away from your pussy for even a second. you writhe, curling downwards to avoid smacking your head on the ceiling as sukuna goes directly up the stairs, practically breaking open his bedroom door from how hard he pushed it with his body, the door swinging open and slamming against the wall beside it.

sukuna immediately moves over to his bed, pulling his face away, tossing you halfway across the room and onto his bed. your body hits the bed with a violent thud, and you bounce against the mattress, your tits swinging a bit in your bikini top, threatening to pop out. the bed creaks as sukuna climbs up onto it, hovering over you as he sheds his shirt, before quickly shedding off his swim trunks. you prop yourself on your elbows, leaning up, looking at sukuna and biting your lip, a soft giggle escaping your lips as sukuna’s cock is freed, smacking violently against his chest, above his belly button. his pre-cum gently splatters across his stomach from the force of its freeing, his tip bright red and angrily throbbing before you.

you gasp as sukuna leans down over you, his hand sliding up the back of your scalp tenderly before he suddenly grips your hair, locking his fingers up against your scalp. he tilts your head down, forcing you to look at his swollen, leaking cock. “look at what you do to me, baby. you can’t ignore me now, can you?”

“ignore you?” you pout slightly, gently bringing a hand down and sliding it down sukuna’s chest. you scoop some of his pre-cum up from his chest with your fingertips, before your gaze flickers up to sukuna. slowly, you stick your tongue out as you stare into his eyes. you drag your fingers along your tongue, slathering his pre-cum along it, his grip on your hair tightening as you curl your fingers into your mouth when you reach the tip of your fingers, slightly sucking on them as you reminisce in the bitter and salty taste of him. you pull your fingers out of your mouth a moment later with a loud ‘pop!’, before you reach the same hand down, poking the tip of your pointer finger onto his cock, rubbing the slit at the very top of his tip. “i could never ignore you, daddy.”

a low grumble escapes sukuna’s throat, his eyes flashing with fury from your teasing as his self control snaps. he slides his hand from the back of your hair downwards, his movement swift, before he pushes you against the bed as he wraps his hand around your throat, shoving you down as his second hand slides along one of your legs, pushing your legs apart and stretching one of your legs up, pushing your ankle to the mattress next to your head, putting you in a near-split as he rubs his cock along the slit of your pussy, staring down at you as he squeezes your throat.

“daddy?” sukuna chuckles, as if the pet name is new, even though it is far from. “the way you’ve been acting today almost makes me think you actually want to make me a daddy.”

“hm?” you tilt your head to the side a bit, bucking your hips up as you let out a soft whimper, his cock teasing your slick folds, “please, daddy-”

“ignoring me all day to take care of that little gremlin,” sukuna grunts, squeezing your throat again as he pushes your leg down more, causing you to gasp. “if you wanted a little brat to look after so bad, you could’ve just asked. would’ve had you bred and swollen already by now.”

“ah~!” you suddenly let out a loud yelp, gasping, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as sukuna pushes himself inside your entrance, your hole already bright red and pulsing with need. he releases a low groan as he splits open your pussy, your folds slick and sticky with your arousal. his cock only seems to grow bigger inside of you, angrily pulsing and throbbing inside your tight cunt, your walls squeezing him so violently that he can see a slight ring forming around the bottom of his cock each time he pulls out from how beautifully suffocating your insides are to his cock. “shit, daddy!”

“what’s the matter, baby girl?” sukuna coos down to you, pushing himself deeper inside of you, his thrusts slow and teasing and mean. he watches how your tummy bulges, the shape of his cock promiment each time he fills you up completely. he can feel the ring of your cervix everytime his cock hits its limit inside of you, and his cock only seems to grow more and pulse against your most sensitive areas when you roll your eyes back and gasp, seeing stars everytime his tip presses right against the entrance of your womb, as if threatening to breech it. “if you think daddy is filling you up now, just wait until you’re carrying daddy’s baby in your tummy, my girl.”

you whine, your back arching off the bed as you gasp, tears spilling down your cheeks from the stretch of sukuna inside of you. “you wanna give me a… a b-baby?”

“what’s the matter, brat?” sukuna grunts, his pace beginning to quicken up. he gently squeezes your throat again, hiding your leg up higher, causing your back to arch and slightly curl off the bed, your ass in the air, growing redder with each slap of his thighs against your plump flesh. “one baby not enough for you? how many babies does my brat want, hm? two? three? daddy’ll give you as many babies as you want, princess. is that what my pretty girl wants?”

as your breath picks up speed, your pussy squeezing and clenching as a knot in your gut gets coiled and wound up so tight you can feel it in your lungs, you let out a loud sob of pleasure. you move your hands, wrapping one around sukuna’s wrist on your throat, while your other hand rests on your belly, pressing down directly against the bulge in your tummy created by sukuna’s cock. his eyes widen, and you let out a loud whimper at the feeling of your walls squeezing even tighter around sukuna’s cock. you nod your head feverishly, your toes curling as you whine out, “yes, daddy! …want your babies-”

“yeah? my pretty girl wants daddy’s babies?” sukuna chuckles. “you gonna give me some good brats, yeah? you gonna be a good mommy to daddy’s babies?”

gasping, you nod your head, your eyes growing wide as sukuna quickens his pace, his cock slamming quickly in and out of you. his balls slap against your ass, your pussy pulsing and squeezing, crying nearly as hard as your eyes are. you sniffle, before you let out a loud scream of pleasure, your pussy squeezing and pulsing as your vision goes white as you cum, squirting on sukuna’s cock as your fluids gush out, coating his cock and his thighs as he pummels into you while you babble and nod your head, sobbing and whining. “gonna be such a good mommy to daddy’s babies…” you slur out, little incoherent babbles following as sukuna continues to mercilessly pound you out.

“such a good girl,” sukuna purrs down to you, squeezing your throat again, slamming himself hard and fast into you, a low grunt and groan escaping his lips before you feel him burst inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum as his cock pulses and pushes inside of you, pushing his seed out and into your womb. 

gently, sukuna slows down, without slipping out of you. he gently releases his hold on your leg, tenderly kissing your calf, before he turns your body, plopping down next to you as he turns you on your side, your back pressed against his chest as he gently bends your leg, his hand sliding down and rubbing your thigh. his hand on your neck releases, and gently, sukuna brushes your hair from your face as he kisses your neck and jaw, behind your ears, and softly whispers into your ear. “such a good girl for daddy. daddy’s so proud of you. took my cock so well, baby…” he murmurs softly, burying his face in your neck, “you’re gonna look so pretty with my baby in your belly, my precious girl. you’re gonna be such a good mommy to our little spawns, i just know it. you did such a good job. you deserve all my praise and more, beautiful.” he murmurs into your ear, holding you close.

and gently, you melt into his arms like that, sukuna’s cock still buried inside of you, his cum and your fluids gently leaking out and dripping down your thighs. when he notices it, sukuna chuckles, scooping up the excess and smirking, gently bringing his finger up to your lips, wiping your mixed fluids on his lips as he looks down at you, a sly grin on his face.

“uh oh, baby… looks like some spilled out. daddy’s gonna have to fill you up again, okay, brat? make sure not to spill any this time, yeah? good girl.”

—————

two months later, you’re sound asleep in sukuna’s arms when you’re awoken by the sound of a truck beeping, signaling it is backing up. slowly, you lift your head from the sound, glancing up at sukuna as he groans, the sound having intruded on his dreams of you. he moves his arm up, groaning and moving it over his eyes, before huffing. “the fuck?” he grumbles, looking up at the ceiling. “who the fuck is being so loud this early in the morning?”

“can you go see who is being so loud, please, kuna? i’m sleepy.” you whimper softly, pouting out your bottom lip as you look up at the larger man. 

gently, sukuna reaches down, picking up your hand. he slowly lifts it, looking down at it, gently rubbing his thumb over the warm metal of the ring sukuna had put on your finger only a few days after the barbecue. he hums softly, and you gently return the hum, before leaning up and kissing his cheek gently, pouting out your bottom lip against his flesh.

“i’m afraid i might end up behind bars for murdering whoever interrupted my beloved’s beauty sleep, princess.” sukuna hums softly, shifting in the bed, kissing your knuckles. “she needs it after all, since she’s carrying my-”

sukuna’s bedroom door suddenly swings open, and you both jump, looking up to the doorway. standing in the doorway, uraume scowls at the two of you, hatred written across their face. “i’m moving out. there’s a truck outside to collect my things.” uraume huffs. 

“going so soon?” sukuna grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“fuck you two. you should be ashamed of yourselves. especially you, dad. what kind of disgusting pervert fucks his child’s best friend?” uraume snarls, clenching their fists. “i’m moving out. i cannot take your torture anymore. never speak to me again. as of today, you no longer have a child, sukuna.”

“at least i wasn’t fucking my best friend’s boyfriend behind her back and lying to her about it,” sukuna grumbles, rolling his eyes. “i am fine with you not being my child. but don’t be so naive as to assume that you will be my only child.” he huffs, leaning back down, snuggling into the bed with you as you shut your eyes, letting out a quiet breath.

“...what?” uraume murmurs out, the color draining from their face at sukuna’s words.

“it’s a good thing you are moving out on your own anyway. we needed your bedroom for the nursery.” sukuna said nonchalantly, shifting behind you. 

the color drained from uraume’s face, their eyes widening as they looked at sukuna, before looking down at you as you shut your eyes, carelessly melting into their father. slowly, uraume glances at sukuna’s dresser, and immediately, they spot it: the positive pregnancy tests, all sitting on the dresser like collectibles. uraume stands up straighter, nausea flooding over them as they look back at sukuna. no, this couldn’t be…

and then, finally, your voice quips out as you turn in sukuna’s arms, stuffing your face in his chest. “just keep the noise down. it’s exhausting enough carrying being pregnant with your dad’s baby. i don’t need the sound of your bitterness keeping me up too.”

—————

masterlist!

not proofread.

please do not copy, steal, repost, and/or translate.

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[ilostmygenderalongwithmydignity]

Saw a post yesterday talking about how BFTC is super ooc, since wdym the Batkids would ever willingly become Batman?? And first of all, true. Batman is a punishment for them. SECOND of all, it made me think of a scenario where they’re all arguing about it, and it’s gotten to the point where everyone else has decided that Jason is the most Batman-shaped among them, so he just

“If you force me into the Batsuit I will shoot the Joker in the face in front of as many witnesses and cameras possible.” And surely, surely that will excuse him from Batman-duty, but then-

Dick slowly turns to look at him, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You should use Alfred’s shotgun.”

So then all of the mostly-unsupervised Batlings are planning what’s basically a public execution, and even Cass isn’t arguing bc she knows what it feels like to die and she CHOSE that fight to the death, but Jason never got a choice, and suddenly they’re compiling old rogue plans because if they combine a few it’ll probably be actually successful-

In the aftermath, after Jason has dramatically left the scene, they have Dick stroll over, nudging the Joker with one foot as if to check if the man who just got blasted in the face with a double-barrel shotgun could be anything but dead. Nightwing makes a statement that boils down to “oh you know how alternate universes and time travel can be,” and the Batfam basically blames it all on Gun Batman even though it was literally just Jason.

After that, they have Alfred draw names out of a hat. None of them are going to argue with him, since as shaken as he still is, he’s in charge while Dad is gone. They also have him decide who gets to be Robin, which boils down to “who was the best behaved this week” (criminals don’t know how to react when it’s Jason or Dick, used to a tiny kid. The duo of Cass as Batman and Jason as Robin only happened once, but no one in Gotham’s underworld will ever forget it).

When Bruce comes back, none of them tell him about the fact that the Joker is dead. In all honesty, they’re so used to him being dead that they… well they sort of forgot. He ends up chatting with Jim, the man fondly complaining about how he’s pretty sure the forced interaction as they had to all pretend to be the same person and keep their stories straight meant the communication skills within the family skyrocketed while he was gone. Bruce isn’t sure how to feel about it, but that gets forgotten when Gordon makes a reference to the Gun Batman Incident with a roll of his eyes.

Bruce isn’t even sure if his kids simply let an alternate Batman go feral on the Joker, or if it was one of them.

None of them will tell him.

In the footage, Batman looks up from the Joker’s corpse, and simply says “I am vengeance.”

[jennxxe]

You didn’t see shit.

pairing — erik campbell x fem! reader

summary — you’re julia’s best friend

warnings — cursing, making out, getting caught by ✨bobby✨, erik bribes him to stfu tho

a/n — i have one more idea for an erik ff after this one and then i will do billy and carter from fd1 <33 yall are free to message me requests for characters tho, js put a summary of what you want the fanfic to look like. all final destination characters are welcome!!

You were halfway through laughing at something Julia said when Erik sauntered into the room like he wasn’t the human equivalent of a traffic violation. That cocky smirk already plastered across his stupidly punchable (and unfortunately hot) face.

“Damn,” he muttered, eyes dragging from your thighs to your lips like he was trying to memorize your measurements by sheer force of will. “Didn’t know Julia had hot friends. You always look like that?”

Julia groaned instantly. “Erik, no.”

He leaned on the kitchen counter like he owned the place, tossing an apple from hand to hand like he was being casual, but everyone knew better. His voice dropped into that low but casual tone he used when he was being deliberately inappropriate. “I’m just saying. If I knew this one was around, I would’ve stayed home more often.”

Julia’s face scrunched like she’d eaten a lemon. “She’s not interested.”

“You sure?” He glanced at you, grin slow and lazy. “Doesn’t look like she’s complaining.”

You fought the smile tugging at your lips. Erik caught it, winking at you. Julia stood between you two now, arms crossed. “Literally go die.”

Erik snorted. “Can’t. I’m the cool sibling. I’ve got plot armor.”

Julia threw a spoon at him. He caught it midair, didn’t blink. Still smirking. That smirk that said: I definitely mean it.

Later that day, Julia had gone upstairs to grab something later that day, promising she’d “be back in two seconds,” which was apparently all the time Erik needed to find his way back in your personal space.

He leaned forward, palms flat on the counter on either side of you, his breath hitting the curve of your neck like something deliberate.

“I’m gonna say something,” he said lowly, his voice rough like it’d just rolled out of bed, “and you’re gonna tell me to fuck off.”

You turned slowly, finding him closer than you expected, close enough to see all the tiny healed scars from the piercings he changed his mind about and took out.

“Didn’t Julia already tell you to leave me alone?” you asked, but your voice betrayed you, just a little more curious than cold.

“She did,” he said. “But I’ve got this thing where I don’t listen to her.”

“Oh, shocking.”

“Look, you’re her best friend. You’re sweet. Smart. Probably way too good for the kind of thoughts I’ve been having since you walked in.”

Your breath caught, barely but enough for him to notice. His grin curved, slow and shameless.

“See?” he said softly. “You felt that too.”

You shook your head, stepping back until your hip hit the counter. He followed, didn’t touch just looked. Held your eyes like he was trying to find the flicker of permission. Like he was testing the line to see if you’d let him cross it.

“And what if I told her?” you asked.

He laughed, one of those careless ones that made your stomach flip in a good way. “You won’t,” he said, certain. “Not unless you want her to know how long you let me stand here.”

You exhaled, smiling a bit. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still not walking away.”

He leaned in, slow enough to give you time to stop him—which you didn’t—and brushed his lips against your jaw, just a ghost of contact. Barely anything. But it burned.

“You tell me when to stop,” he murmured. “Or you don’t.” Before you could answer, footsteps pounded on the stairs.

Julia.

He pulled back in an instant, grabbing a slice of pizza off the counter like nothing had happened. Smirking to himself like he’d won something. And when Julia walked back in and rolled her eyes at him, he just said, through a mouthful of crust. “We were just talking about you.”

You decided to sleep over for whatever reason that night, too lazy to walk back home and Julia gave you her bed.

…

Jk, she would never, she made you sleep on the couch like she was punishing you for indulging her brother.

The living room was half-dark, lit only by the blue glow of the muted TV and the tiny strip of moonlight bleeding in through the blinds. You were on the couch, curled under a blanket, phone long forgotten at your side. Tank top loose, one strap slipping just slightly. Legs stretched out, bare and warm against the worn leather cushions.

You hear someone coming downstairs and, of course, it has to be Erik. No shirt, all tattoos on display. Hair tousled like he hadn’t even tried to sleep. Those damn silver piercings glinting faintly in the dark.

He stood at the edge of the couch, eyes skating down the length of your legs without shame, his jaw slack with something both lazy and playful.

"You're in my spot," he said finally, voice lower than usual, like the hour required secrecy but his intent didn’t.

You didn’t move. "You weren’t down here."

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t planning to be.”

He dropped onto the other end of the couch like he owned it and stretched his legs out until his foot casually nudged yours. The contact was small, insignificant. But he didn’t take it back. He just let it linger.

You shifted under the blanket. He watched that too.

“You always stare like that?” she muttered, trying to keep her voice level.

His head tilted, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, muscles lazy, confident. “Only when I wanna see what you’ll do about it.”

There was a beat of silence. Heavy. Tense. Loaded.

Then he moved slowly, like the moment had been waiting on him, until he was closer. Close enough for his knee to bump your thigh. Close enough that she could smell him, faint cologne and the stubborn smoke that always clung to his skin. His fingers ghosted along the blanket near your hip, barely brushing fabric, but intentional.

You should’ve shifted away. Should’ve told him to back off. Should’ve said Julia’s upstairs. But your body betrayed you… okay, it didn’t, he was hot as fuck.

He leaned in, slow enough to be deliberate, lips brushing just shy of your jaw. His breath hit warm and even across your skin, his voice a whisper now.

“You gonna tell me to leave?”

Your fingers curled into the blanket, tighter.

He chuckled under his breath, low and full of mischief. His hand came up, brushing your thigh through the blanket, fingers spread like he needed to feel just how warm you were under there.

“You’re real quiet now,” he said, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “That mean I can stay?”

Your breath caught. And then you nodded. He dipped closer. His mouth brushed the line of your collarbone, lips soft, breath hot, his hand sliding just beneath the blanket now.

The couch groaned softly beneath you as you shifted, and your knee bumped his thigh, bare skin on bare skin. That was all it took for Erik to settle his hand at your waist, pulling gently, testing you.

And he kissed you. Not all at once. He started near your throat, barely-there kisses that felt like secrets, like confessions. Then up along your jaw, near the corner of your mouth, just hovering, giving you time to pull away.

You didn’t.

So he claimed your lips like he meant it.

It wasn’t gentle. It was heat and hesitation, all twisted up. Teeth. Tongue. The press of his body against yours, as if he’d been holding himself back all night and finally got permission to start losing control.

And even in the middle of that kiss, Erik smirked against your mouth. Because he knew he was winning.

He eventually pushed you back, climbing on top of you. You were soft under him, lips flushed, eyes dazed, that little noise you made when his teeth caught your lower lip nearly making him lose the last ounce of restraint he had. Erik wasn’t good at waiting. Not when he wanted something. And right now?

He wanted you under him, under that stupid blanket, moaning his name like it meant something.

Your legs shifted to either side of his hips, his hand sliding under the hem of your tank top, palm hot on your stomach as your breath hitched. You tugged him closer by the waistband of his pants, and he groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he laughed through it.

“Fuck, if you keep doin’ that—”

Footsteps.

The stairs creaked.

Erik froze. You froze.

And then—

“…Hey?”

Erik looked up like he’d been shot. "No."

Bobby stood in the hallway in basketball shorts and a hoodie, hair a mess, holding a half-eaten Pop-Tart and blinking like he just walked into a war zone.

Erik was still on top of you. Your tank top was wrinkled halfway up your chest.

Bobby just blinked again.

“...Are you guys wrestling or something?”

You scrambled back, yanking the blanket up to your chin like you were about to enter witness protection. Erik nearly tripped over his own legs as he got up, adjusting his waistband like it owed him money.

Bobby squinted. “Wait. Is that Julia’s—”

“NOPE!” Erik bellowed, launching himself across the room so fast he almost tripped. “Bobby. Bobby, look at me. Right here. Look in my eyes. You didn’t see shit.”

Bobby backed up, Pop-Tart still in hand, eyes wide. “Dude, I literally just came in for water, what the hell—”

“Shut up,” Erik hissed, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. “Listen to me. I will buy you so many protein shakes, you don’t even know.”

“What were you—were you guys hooking up?!” Bobby’s voice cracked halfway into the question.

Erik slapped a hand over his mouth. “She fell. I was catching her. With my mouth. Shut up.”

Bobby made a strangled wheeze. “Jules is gonna kill you—”

“No she’s not,” Erik said quickly. “Because you’re not gonna tell her. Because you love me. Because I gave you your first beer. Because I didn’t tell Mom when you got that illegal tattoo that looks like a bruised banana.”

Bobby was still blinking, still confused, but Erik could see the cogs turning, gears clicking into place.

“Are you gonna bribe me?” Bobby asked, hopeful.

“Yes. I will bribe you so hard, you’re gonna forget you even have a sister.”

There was a long beat of silence.

Then Bobby shrugged.

“Okay. I want the good chicken nuggets. And your Netflix password.”

“Done.”

Bobby beamed. “Love you, bro.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Erik shoved him back toward the stairs. “Don’t come back for water. Dehydrate.”

As soon as Bobby disappeared upstairs, Erik turned back to the couch, hair disheveled, still a little breathless, and fully flushed from the chaos.

You were still under the blanket, staring at him like he was insane.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, flopping down beside you again.

“You bribed your brother with chicken nuggets.”

“I bribed him with silence and loyalty, thank you very much.”

You snorted, and he smirked, his fingers already sliding under the blanket again.

“Now,” he said, voice low and smug, “where were we?”

[akalimbratic]

Short story below the cut! I wrote for a little while here 💀 this has been sitting in my drafts for ages too so I figured I'd finish it.

《•○●◇●○•》《•○●◇●○•》

Day 1.

Hey so, I'm writing this journal because I really, really hope this ends soon. Also if I die it might be cool to have something that proves I lived-- I guess?? I'm not sure I'm just--

This is fucking crazy. So, here's to day one and here's what happened.

We all thought it was a joke at first, maybe one of the newbies in the radio station decided to play a little prank-- but there's always those doomsday folks that prepare for just this situation. Those with the bunkers, the cans of food, who prepare for the unprepared when they inevitably buy up all the supplies in stock. It's what my Uncle Rich did; first to heed the warning, first in the bunker, first to insist we all join him, and the first man to die. I think. I don't really know. It's all so confusing and I'm writing this at 4 something in the morning so give me a break.

Anyway, about... I want to say a week later after Uncle Rich went into hiding. But when we got there he was gone, and I don't mean we discovered his corpse draped over the couch like a sack of potatoes I mean he was GONE. Everything was GONE. the furniture the carpet HIM was GONE as if it never existed to begin with! All that remained was this weird- smelly- slimy substance no one could really figure out what. It was smeared on the walls dripping from the ceiling seeping into the concrete floor.

We didn't JUST lose Rich either. Neighbors that routinely locked the door at night (I did not, for I worked overnight shifts and always forgot out of sheer exhaustion. At first I used to kick myself in the head about it being dangerous but thank God for brainfog or something right?) came about the same fate. Old Miss Peterson was gone, Little Todd and his mom was gone, even the hermit who I never bothered to check on before was-- just. Gone.

So I began staying with my mom in her little town. Though it was unbearable being around the damn cat who cant seem to stop screaming at corners scratching up furniture, it was worth it just to be together.

Day 14.

Nearly all the doors in the neighborhood have been replaced with screens or removed entirely. I think the only good thing that came out of this was the fact that people were going outside and talking to each other again, checking in and just-- acknowledging someone else. Mom says shes never seen so many faces, Critter (the cat) agrees by slapping her hand away from its stomach. He made her bleed and mom didn't seem to bothered by it which was... weird. I really don't understand cat people but okay. Is that just something you guys accept?

I mean maybe it's just me being queasy around blood. I never did too well with it to be truthful.

Day 30.

After nothing on the radio for weeks and nothing happening we all met in the middle of town for a meeting. The mayor said something about possibly returning doors back onto people's houses and deciding to trust that whatever did happen was over, but obviously he didn't want to declare it so until the government said it was okay. The only reason why this was even brought up was because it's becoming tourist season and getting increasingly hotter, so a lot of townspeople didn't feel comfortable keeping their doors off for much longer. You know with the risk of thieves and higher electricity bills and all. I think it's a bit fucked that we still have to pay bills but, hey, money makes the world go round right?

It came down to asking somebody to volunteer themselves to take the risk. Obviously, nobody volunteered because why the hell would you.

Except mom did. I looked at her like she was crazy but she was always a giving sort of person and said "it's just one night. We can stay awake and be close to the door just in case okay?" Sooo I guess we're doing this then?? You know what really doesn't help is everyone was suddenly very interested in being our friends after, so not only were we sacrificing ourselves to the slime people were treating us like we were already dead! Fuck-ing whoopie!

But you know I refuse to leave my mom. She's all I have left. Her and Critter. I'm just hoping her bravery isn't because she's tired of the mosquitos.

So, anyway. If this is my last journal entry then I got digested. Good luck!

Day 31.

Last night mom and I set up shop next to the door that the Mayor helped us put back in (the neighbors didn't. Many said they didnt want the blood on their hands should something have happened). We locked it and just kind of stayed in the living room together after binging our favorite show as a source of comfort. For once, Critter was actually really chill. Chill enough to the point where he didn't let out a peep and just stayed close by.

There was something weird though? Like yeah Critter was chill but he wasn't calm. The little guy was fluffed up and only really cuddled up against me, not mom. In fact he didnt seem to like mom at ALL he just didnt vocalize it like he used to with me. Mom didnt seem to notice, just fixated on the TV and saying "I've never seen so many faces" again.

... so yeah, don't tell her this, but I didn't sleep inside. I opted to sleep in the chair hammock thing on the porch with Critter. Either way, we survived, and mom didn't disappear like the rest of them.

Day 32

Some people took our survival as a sign that things were over. Some people were still skeptical. Doors are returning to their houses. Critter still avoids mom.

Day 35

No one's Gone yet, thankfully. In fact nothing really seems to be happening anymore. Im starting to think it really is over but Critter avoiding mom and being as quiet as he is is starting to freak me out. No matter how many people offer me a place to sleep I just tell them I'm outdoorsy, I like the fresh air, and they leave me alone.

Some people do pull me aside and ask if I'm okay though. I tried telling people that Critter doesn't trust mom and they wind up brushing it off because he's "just a dumb animal", and "I wouldn't give it much thought." Which normally, I wouldn't! But these people locked their doors the night before so how do I know that whatever's going on with mom isn't going on with them? Anyway, until something starts happening I think I'm going to stop writing in here. Im getting weird looks now sooo... I may leave town tomorrow. I just have to make sure mom's okay first.

But I don't think she is.

Entry 7.

They tried taking Critter.

Entry 8.

The page is covered in scribbles and chicken scratch, indicating anxiety and rushed. Its ripped in some places where the author had pressed too hard. There's wet spots on the page thats long since dried.

Fuck fuck fuck I fucking knew it. I KNEW it. Except I didnt. But i did? I don't know! I just-

I had to run-- drive-- ANYTHING. They tried takogn critter rrom me yesterday. I was sleeping with him on the pourch like normal and they tried ripping yim rromcmy hands like he wasnr a living breathing thkng! For the firdt time in days crotter acramed and I wound up puncuing a kid to get him out if their grasp. Im so fucking scared I almost lost Critter they tried to TAKEA HKM FROM ME LIKE WHAT THE FUCK.

Thie fucking town is insane. Theyr eGINE THEYRE ALL GONE MOMS GONR THEYRE (dried tear stains cause the writing to bleed together and greatly disturb the legibility of the entry. There appears to be cat fur stuck to the age, Critter must've brushed himself against the author of the journal.)

Entry 9

I lost track of how many days it's been. I've been sleeping in my car and constantly on the move, just Critter and I. I don't stay in towns with doors anymore, and even without doors I only stay long enough to warn people and get gas, maybe something to eat. I lock my doors but keep the windows cracked enough to make it count.

I... am really lonely, honestly. If it weren't for Critter keeping me company I don't know how long I would've lasted out here. I don't even want to go home. Whatever became of Mom might find me there.

... I miss her. I miss Uncle Rich. I miss my friends, my lame job, my lame life.

I just hope I find somebody else, someone who isnt Gone.

Entry 10

It's weird how much use I'm getting out of this thing. I kind of wish I invested in one of those cool journals that usually collects dust on a shelf because you never know what to use it for. This composition notebook is good sure, but if a historian discovers my body with it I won't look nearly as cool. I kind of hope to die in like, some cool epic battle though, become a sick environmental skeleton. Or epic clothes! That'll make up for it.

Day 213

Apparently it's been seven months already. I found out because I ran into somebody on the road who's keeping track. She seemed cool, not Gone. Apparently she went through something similar and also jumped ship when her brother went Gone-- she has a dog too! His name is Rex and hes a cute German Sheppard... Critter doesn't seem to think so haha, but that's to be expected.

He likes her though! Kinda. He hisses when she moves too quick but he at least meows around her. Her names Rosy and we're going to start traveling together. Shes got a sick truck. I wish I had a truck.

Day 230

We found another survivor.

His name is Finnegan Oswell, old army vet i think in hiiiis 60s? He has a kid with him. A 14 year old named Ezekiel thats taller than Rosy (she's not happy about it). It's about the same story as ours, his daughter (zeke's mom) went Gone. Heartbreaking stuff but, you know. Im just glad to know that there's people out here.

We added them to our merry band of survivors.

Day 231

Ezekiel survived the event that took his family, and... holy fucking shit.

He described it as the shadows turning to tar and it getting harder to breathe. He was on the second floor at the time, his mom slept on the first floor. He watched the house get brighter as the darkness lept from the walls and swallowed everything whole. The only reason he wound up surviving was because he broke a window and jumped. (Which explains why his nose is crooked and his missing a tooth, yeesh).

When he returned with Finn they found nothing but a sticky slimy substance coating the walls, ceilings, and floors... except in Zeke's room.

If this ever ends I think we all need some major therapy.

Final Entry. Day 477.

Wow, does time fly?

I think you, future historian, will be sad to know that I'm not sure this ever ends. Every town or city we passed through people were gone or Gone. All of them with lockable doors.

But! You'll be happy (I hope) to know that I'm doing... okay.

Along the way our group grew from the 4 of us, to 6, to 10, to probably like 50 people. We found refuge in a nice comfortable state where it didn't get unbearably hot and it didn't get unbearably cold either (don't ask me the name of the state I completely forgot) in a forest too for that extra shade and stuff. I think this used to be an old campground? It's next to a river and the campground owner was happy to see people.

We built walls around the campground the way beavers build their dams, and built stuff that always had a gap large enough to count. Everyone pitches in, checks in on each other it's... nice. It's really good.

Ezekiel turned 15 last week, actually. He's made new friends and seems to really be thriving here, Rosy began teasing about him and Roxanne together because of course she would. A couple of Finn's old army buddies managed to find this place, and I think thats the first time I've ever seen 3 old men weep in each other's arms. Might be my last too! Finn told me he'll whip me if he finds out I wrote this event down but how can I NOT?

Speaking of Rosy, we've become close, so has Rex and Critter (I mean seriously, those two are inseperable now). She's my best friend and if it weren't for her, I think I'd be Gone too.

Anyway, we aren't sure if the world outside is Gone for good or if it's ever going to recover. But what's important is that we are Here. Or we were Here by the time you read this, future historian.

This may be my last Journal entry as I'm really ready to move on from this and start a new chapter in my life. So...

Audrey, out!

“Attention all citizens - This is not a drill - Do not shelter in place - Avoid enclosed spaces - Leave doors and windows open”

[mydearzero]

The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader - Chapter 8 | Bob

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter. 

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, angsty chapter, suicidal ideation

Read it on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 7

2.1K words

A/N: WHABAM Two chapters in under 24 hours who would've thought? This is getting way more angsty than I'd intended but it's not like void is not the literal embodiment of depression so what did we expect, really? Enjoy! - Nik

His lips were on yours before you could register what was going on. You felt like you were short circuiting. You only paused for a second, almost melting into his touch before realizing that this was not right. You tried pushing him off you but he was like a brick wall. Luckily, he pulled away, leaving you both breathless. 

You didn’t get any time to think it over. The door opened loudly, Yelena and Walker barging in. Bob turned to you with a smug look, still heaving from the ferocity with which he’d kissed you. “See? I told you they were watching.”

He didn’t struggle as Walker forced him back down on the couch. Yelena put her hands on your shoulders. It was then you were finally able to rip your eyes away from his. 

“Are you okay?” She questioned. You were still too baffled by what had just happened to answer. You simply looked back at Bob with confusion. Yelena shook your shoulders lightly to regain your attention, calling your name a few times. 

“What?” Her question finally sunk in. “Yeah– I’m– What the hell was that?!” You couldn’t help it. Why did he do that? 

You got no answer from Bob. You hadn’t heard Walker yell at him up until now. Everything had moved so fast. Your hand went up to your mouth, feeling your lips still tingling from the kiss only moments ago. Why did he do that? 

Bob ignored Walker, who was getting more and more frustrated that he wasn’t getting an answer. 

“You can’t just do shit like that, Bob! Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you, buddy.” Bob’s eyes never left your face. It was like Walker and Yelena were invisible. All he wanted to see was the chaos he’d caused inside your head. And he was succeeding. You were reeling. 

You looked back, trying to somehow read his mind. To your surprise, you think you understood why he did what he’d done. You turned and walked to the door silently, waiting for Walker and Yelena to follow so you could talk to them privately. When they caught on, the three of you went back into the surveillance room, where Alexei and Bucky were still watching the screens. Everybody turned their attention to you. 

“Turn it off. The cameras. The mics. All of it. Let me talk to him, alone,” you demanded. You looked at the screen that showed him the clearest. A chill went down your spine. He was looking right into the camera. Somehow, you felt like he was staring into your soul. 

“You know we can’t do that,” Bucky said. 

You shook your head. “He’s not gonna hurt me.” Yelena’s eyes begged for an explanation.

“He wants to know he can trust me. How can he trust me if I don’t trust him? That’s why he did it. Punching me wouldn’t have gone over well. Kissing was the easiest thing to get you to act, I guess…” It was the best bet you had. Otherwise, you had no clue as to why the hell he’d do something like that. 

“You talk to him, then what?” Alexei asked, crossing his arms. Everybody was clearly just as bewildered by what had happened as you were. 

“I try to get him to accept help? Talk him down from this state he’s in? I don’t know,” you shrugged. There wasn’t exactly a guide to this stuff. Your head was starting to hurt. 

“We can’t just send you in there with nobody to watch your back. Not to mention the door system. It won’t just let you out. What if you’re trying to run from him? It won’t open for him.” Yelena was thinking out loud. 

“Well, apparently it’s my job to risk my life, right?” You scoffed lightly. “So, let me do my job.” 

The team knew as well as you did that they really had no other option. They couldn’t wait him out for weeks again. They had other matters to attend to. They would need to figure out a way to get him off the edge of the Void sooner or later. 

It was the end of the discussion. Bucky went in there with you and made a show of removing all the surveillance equipment. Bob sat on the couch, waiting patiently for Bucky to leave. 

The man held up the several cameras for Bob to see. “Happy?” 

“Very,” Bob replied complacently. The first door opened, letting Bucky out of the studio. Bob waited for the second door to close behind him before finally turning to you. He gestured to the other side of the couch, the spot where you’d been sitting before. You sat down cautiously. 

“Now we can actually talk,” Bob sighed. You came to the conclusion you had no idea what he actually wanted to talk about. So you selfishly chose the topic you wanted to discuss. 

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” He acted aloof. 

“You know what.” 

“Do tell me.” 

“The kiss. Why’d you do that?” He had the gall to laugh at that. 

“Don’t laugh!” You hissed. “I’m being serious! Why did you do that?” 

“You know why I did it,” he shrugged. You shook your head in disbelief. 

“I don’t, actually. It did prove your point, I suppose. That they were watching. But you already knew that I knew that. There was no point to prove. So, why’d you do it?”

“Did you ever consider that maybe I just wanted to?” It was the first time he’d made eye contact since Bucky had left you alone. 

“You just wanted to?” You had no response to that. You really wished you could’ve resisted the urge to think about the kiss again. About the way his lips had felt against yours. About the soft, tender way his hands had cradled your face, despite his unstable state. You couldn’t. 

“Come on, sweetheart.” That was new. “You can’t blame me. I thought we had something going on. A connection.”

“A connection? Really?” You denied it to his face, but knew he was somewhat right. Bob had worked his way inside your head. Found a nice place in your heart and nestled there, perhaps permanently. But this wasn’t Bob. You certainly felt no such connection to Sentry. 

“What do you want?” You finally asked when he didn’t elaborate any further. 

“I just want to talk.” 

“And you couldn’t do that before?” 

“Not in the way I wanted to. I want you to trust me. I want to know I can trust you. You understand that, right?” There was an underlying uncertainty to his voice. On the surface he acted self-assured, but somewhere shallowly buried was the doubt that was ingrained in Bob’s very being. 

“Well, talk, then.” 

He paused, leaving you in silence for what felt like hours. 

“You wanted to kiss him, right?” He eventually asked. It was a strange question. Was he referring to himself in the third person, or someone else entirely? 

“Who?” 

“Bob. You wanted to kiss him.” He stated it as if it was a fact. It might as well have been. That day in the café, if he’d leant in closer, you likely wouldn’t have stopped him. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. 

“I think you did. Which makes it funny that you seem so opposed that I did it now. We’re the same person. I am Bob.” Both of you knew that although it was technically true, it really wasn’t the case. 

“So why are you acting like this, Bob?” You exaggerated the way you said his name. 

“Like what?” He feigned ignorance. This version of him was utterly frustrating. 

“Like you’re on the edge of ‘going dark’, as the team puts it.” You spoke tentatively. 

“They’re scared I’m gonna go full Void, are they?” You nodded. 

“Well, they’d be right to. Where Sentry goes, Void follows,” he continued.

“So you admit it, then. That you’re not Bob right now. You’re Sentry.” 

“We’re all one and the same.” 

You thought the statement over. During the car ride to the bunker, Yelena had explained that Bob blacked out during these periods. He had no recollection of this side of him. So was he truly the same person? Could he be held accountable as Bob for actions executed by the Sentry, or even the Void? 

“I can hear the cogs turning from here. It’s not that difficult to understand. Bob thinks about it a lot. What if someone else had succeeded with Project Sentry? What if it had been someone less fucked up? Then there wouldn’t have been a Void, right? This alllllll could’ve been prevented if Bob just died.” Sentry said it as if it was all a big joke, yet you could see it in his eyes. He truly felt this way. He felt the pain Bob felt. He thought the way Bob did. Because he was Bob. 

“Don’t say things like that…” your voice came out quieter than you’d expected. 

“Like what? That things would’ve been easier if I were dead? It’s hard not to think that way when it’s true.” You recognized the words. It was such an easy, painful spiral to fall down. 

“Just because something’s easier doesn’t mean it’s right. It would also be easier for me to just go home and never think about this again. But that doesn’t feel right, and I don’t want to.” 

“See? You’re saying it yourself. It would be easier for you to not have to deal with me,” the lines between Bob and Sentry seemed to blur. He was feeling vulnerable. 

“That’s not what I meant. That’s just what you’re interpreting it as. And as long as we communicate clearly, there’s no need for negative interpretation because I’m telling you right now that it would not, in fact, be easier to not have to ‘deal’ with you. There’s tons of other shit in life that’s difficult. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to face it head-on to see where it’ll bring me.” 

His hands were shaking. You took a deep breath and stowed the fear you’d felt these last few days deep, deep down, and took his hands in yours. You gripped them tightly. He looked into your eyes with a vulnerability you hadn’t even seen from Bob. He was scared. 

“I want to be good,” it was a whisper. “But I can’t be. I can’t help. Not without him showing up.” The Void. 

“We can try. We can help you figure this out, Bob.” A sob wrecked free from his throat at the mention of his name. He turned his face away, a tear escaping. One of his trembling hands let go of yours to wipe it away.  

You slowly tugged him closer, pulling him into a hug. You could feel him shake as he cried against your shoulder. You felt tears well up in your own eyes. He was so scared. You hugged him as tight as you could. He gently slumped against you, blacking out. 

You held him like that until the tremble in his hands settled. And even then, you wouldn’t let go. Not when a soft snore left his lips, indicating he was now peacefully asleep. Not when Yelena came in, quietly observing to see if you were okay. You refused to let him go. You held him for hours, eventually falling asleep with him on the couch. 

✶

You didn’t dream. You awoke when you felt something stir against your hands. Bob. His hands hadn’t left yours, even when you’d both slept. You left your eyes closed for a little longer, feigning sleep. You could feel his eyes roaming over your face. He carefully tugged his hands out of your grip. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tracing his fingers over your face softly. 

What he was sorry for, he wasn’t sure. He could feel that something had gone horribly wrong. The way you had been holding him when he’d woken up. The fact he was back in the bunker after months of progress. It couldn’t mean anything good. 

He was grateful to have you here with him. He couldn’t imagine what he’d put you through, put the team through. Had the Void come out? Had he made you relive your worst nightmares in a vengeful rage? If only he could just remember. 

You made a show of stirring and slowly waking up. You rubbed at your eyes and finally opened them. He’d sat up, but didn’t look away. 

“Hey,” you smiled at him softly.  “Hey…” He returned your smile. Bob returned your smile.

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki @chimchoom @spidermiraculous-blog @s00ty-feet @28cnn @tinythebunni @softpia @roeroeroeyourboet @secretkittydreamland @cultish-corner @greenbean-4ever @t-rexs-world @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @ifilwtmfc @renren-006 @10ava01 @kawaii1369 @hawkinsavclub1983 @paleepeaches @lnmp89 @frozenhuntress67 @my-name-is-baby @a-moranguei @daisyyy47 @petersluvbug @articel1967 @purplefluffycows @midnightecko @lizzylynch1 @keira-kaz2y5 @lightinbug @thefriendlyferretwriter @xblueriddlex @funkyfable @papapappapapapa @darling-eos @neenieweenie @poppingaround @ren-ni @badbishsblog @makepastanotwar13 @spongelll

[mischivousvoid]

You will never be her

SYNOPSIS : You've been in love with your coworker forever, you sadly discover he's in love with someone else. Except, she's shattered his heart to pieces.

PAIRING : Zayne x Non-MC!Gender-Neutral Reader

TAGS : Hurt/comfort, Oneshot/Drabble, kinda-sorta-slice-of-life

❄️🍧☃️🍧❄️❄️🍧☃️🍧❄️🍧☃️🍧❄️🍧☃️🍧❄️

The first time you saw how he looks at her, it stung. I mean, it hurts, watching the man you've been pining for for the last few years be so desperately in love with someone who isn't you.

Yet somehow, what hurts even more, is that you can see from a mile away that she doesn't look at him the same way. How could she not?

Your coworker, Zayne, is perhaps the kindest, most thoughtful and caring person on Earth. He speaks in a cold and professional demeanor most of the time, and does not seem to emotionally attach to the patients, but his actions speak so much louder than his words. He stays late just to make sure things go smoothly, he checks up on patients in his free time, he stops stops by to help out people he doesn't know when he can. On the rare occasions he brings snacks for everyone, he remembers exactly what everyone is allergic to and what their favourite is.

It really is outrageous that the woman he lights up when seeing and keeps a picture of on his desk doesn't like him back. You almost think to yourself that how dare she hurt him like that. But I guess when you just don't feel the chemistry, you just don't feel the chemistry. Life is cruel sometimes...

Your heart feels like it's being squeezed and compressed into a black hole every time you look at him talk to her. One time it was so bad you almost scheduled an appointment with him to see if there's an underlying physical issue. But, no, sadly your heartbreak is emotional and has quite the obvious source... You doubt you had a chance before, you know. Zayne tends to keep his personal life out of the hospital and the hospital out of his personal life, he'd probably never go out with a coworker. And fat chance you were his taste. But seeing him so... enamoured with her. Right in front of your salad. Well, it really crushed your ribs from the inside. She didn't show up often, only some evenings to meet him after work and head off together, or occasionally as a hunter assigned to clean up when there was an incident at your hospital. But you still couldn't bear seeing them.

You sat with the feeling many evenings after work, suppressing it in the moment and putting away for crying into your pillow late at night. It sucked. It really sucked. Many sleepless nights of chest pain and close calls of being late to work because your meltdowns made you oversleep. But thanks to you processing your feelings and not ignoring them, over time, it got easier. At least, the pain didn't feel so suffocating and you made peace with the fact that you'll never have him. You felt... mildly content just seeing him happy.

Except, that didn't last. The more time passed, the more apparent it became that the woman he loved only saw him as a friend and would never "warm up and like him back" the way you thought. You don't know if he noticed that too, or if she outright rejected him, but you watched him slowly wilt. It was subtle, many people wouldn't even notice, but it was the little things. He'd eat his lunch just a little too long staring off into space, end conversations just a little too soon, stay so late at work that it wasn't just to check up on the patients anymore but quite clearly to distract himself. One day, she showed up with a man and cheerfully introduced him as her boyfriend, and said he'd be tagging along to their outing and that she hoped they'd all get along. The next week, her picture was gone from his desk. And the whole following month Zayne stayed late at work on every day and had bigger eyebags on him than you've ever seen.

This had to stop. You can't... You can't watch him destroy himself anymore. It was one thing to have your heart broken, but seeing him fall apart into pieces was so much worse.

You gathered up whatever courage you had, and invited him for coffee and pastries right after your shift ends on the day your schedule alligned. Made an excuse as to why it cannot be any later, apparently the cafe won't serve any cake after a certain hour because the owner believes sugar before bed will kill you. No, it can't be another cafe, it has to be that one, it has that special edition dessert you wanted to try forever but had no one to go with. Your treat, of course.

Somehow, he agreed. He wasn't very talkative, but you still had a good time. Doctor Zayne when he isn't a Doctor is a sight to behold... You had fun seeing all his reactions. His scrunched-up nose when he tried his drink before adding 5 spoons of sugar, his satisfied expression when finishing his 3rd slice of cake. You feel a little bad, enjoying this so much while inviting him to make sure that *he* feels better. But hey, he seems happier and he didn't overwork himself again, so maybe you deserve to enjoy this a little bit. At the end of the evening, you nod and go your separate ways.

You do this again the first time you have an opportunity, make some other outrageous excuse why it has to be right after work. And then again. And again. And every time, by some miracle, Zayne says yes. You talk more and more each time. By the third time, Zayne asks you if you'd like him to accompany you to your house. It is late, after all. In twice the time, you don't even have to ask, and he's ready to head off with you when your work is done. It becomes routine, you finish work, you go get some sweets and coffee, Zayne walks you home.

It feels like a privilege peering into his private life, to hear him talk of things other than patients and surgeries and scheduling. You learn of his terrible sweet tooth, his favourite foods, his interests out of work. You learn of his sarcastic and playful-jabs kind of sense of humour, his smile engraved to your memory. His outward cold demeanor seems like almost a facade with how warm being around him makes you feel.

You're so happy to see him better and to know these new sides to him that you don't even notice when he starts to linger around you, when it looks like he doesn't quite want to leave after walking you home, how he stands just a little closer when you walk next to each other. You're just glad to give him some company that you can tell he needed.

One fateful evening he does something you've never thought possible. He kisses you. Your mind melts while you try to process what's happening, but you instinctively kiss him back before you can even tell. You've wanted this for so long. You're not sure what you expected him to feel like, but his lips are soft and a little chilly before they warm up to yours. When the kiss turns open-mouthed, he feels much more like warm cocoa, even tastes a little like it, sugary flavour lingering after you two had your desserts earlier in the evening.

You pull away and try to hold yourself together. Emotions circle through your head, and you only manage to force out the dumbest thing you could possibly say right now.

"You know I'll never be her, right?"

You're afraid you ruined this for yourself when his face falls and he stares to the side into blank space. But he looks back at you and smiles.

"I know."

He looks a little melancholic, but he kisses you again and your worries melt away with the rest of your thoughts.

——————————————————————————

Sometimes, he still looks at her like he did before, but with an additional layer of sadness and melancholy to his expression. It doesn't hurt though. Because he looks at you with the same warmth and shine, and at least, you make him smile as well.

[inseobts]

Hey Princess pt.4

zoro x fem!reader

part 3 - part 5 (end)

you find freedom, love, and a true family among pirates—only to risk everything, even your life, to protect them from the chains of your past.

words count: 3.4k

tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, banter, mystery backstory, angst and fluff

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Below the palace — Zoro’s whole body locks up mid-step. He stumbles into a wall, sword clattering to the stone floor. Pain sears through his chest, sharp and sudden.

“Zoro!” Usopp catches him before he collapses.

And then Chopper cries out too, hands shaking as he falls to one knee.

“Chopper?! What the hell is happening now?!”

Sanji rushes to both of them, panic barely masked in anger “They’re both burning up, something’s wrong with the chips!”

“They activated them” Robin says through gritted teeth.

Zoro can barely breathe. His teeth grind. Not from pain.

From fury.

And through the agony, one thought pulses clear in his mind.

They’re using me to get to her.

Back in the dining room — You freeze as Zoro’s pained voice echoes in your memory. The way his grip always steadied you. The way he looked at you like you were never a burden, never too much.

“Stop it” you whisper.

Your father raises an eyebrow “Then sit down, Your Highness.”

You do. Slowly.

Your fists clench in your lap.

“Please” you say.

He lets go of the button.

In the corridors — Zoro gasps in air like it’s fire.

The pain fades, but not the burn under his skin.

Chopper lifts his head, panting “It’s… gone. For now.”

Zoro doesn’t move for a second.

Then he grabs his sword, pushing off the wall.

“She’s still fighting them,” he mutters “That’s the only reason we’re still breathing.”

Usopp stares “She did that?”

Zoro nods once and with a dark edge to his voice, he adds “She won’t have to much longer.”

Back at the table — The prince is still smirking. Your parents look pleased. You feel like vomiting.

But inside you, something sharp and alive refuses to die.

Because this time, you’re not alone. And you know they’re coming for you.

You just have to hold on a little longer... And you also got an idea.

The moment dessert is cleared, you push back your chair.

“I think I’ll go rest. It’s been a long day” you say, already rising, not even glancing at the prince.

He frowns, confused and disappointed “But we haven’t even gotten to know each other yet.”

You smile tightly “Guess we’ll have years for that.”

He laughs, thinking you’re joking. You are not.

Your father’s gaze lingers on you like he knows something’s shifting, but he says nothing.

“Goodnight” you say sweetly, then walk off quickly before they can stop you.

You reach your room, shut the door, and lean against it. Your hands are shaking. But your mind is racing.

The remote. You saw it. Small, clunky, but powerful.

If they need it to activate the chip…

Then maybe if you steal it, they’ll be helpless.

Maybe Zoro and Chopper will finally be safe.

You change out of the heavy gown into something quiet and dark, easy to move in. You tie your hair up, and your heart pounds in your chest like a war drum.

You’re not a spy. But Luffy wanted you as one. Maybe it’s time you act like it.

The corridors are empty. You know the guards’ patrol routes by heart, you used to sneak sweets as a kid.

Now you’re sneaking something far more dangerous.

You slip into your father’s chamber.

The room is dark. Lavish. Cold. But there, on the desk, is the device.

You rush forward, fingers closing around it. You don’t even breathe.

Got it.

But before you can turn “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

You freeze.

His voice is calm. Disappointed.

Slowly, you look up. Your father stands in the shadows of the room, arms folded.

He steps closer.

“You’re clever. But not clever enough.”

Your grip tightens “If I keep this or if I destroy this—”

He cuts you off, lips curling into a quiet, cruel smile.

“We have more remotes, Y/N. Take that one. I’ll deactivate it. Then use another. Or another. Or another.”

Your stomach sinks.

“There’s no freedom,” he says “Not for you. And not for them.”

You stare at the device in your hand. It suddenly feels very, very useless.

Meanwhile – Zoro stands at the edge of the hallway, back pressed against the stone wall. The chip’s pain is gone, but his jaw is still locked tight.

“She’s buying us time” he mutters.

Robin and Franky emerge from a secret passage they discovered behind a rusted painting.

“We found the medical lab” Robin says “But it’s worse than we thought.”

Franky adds, “There’s tech in there even I can’t read right away. Whoever’s running this place? They ain’t amateurs.”

Chopper stands beside them, weak but steady “I need time. If I can just study it…”

Nami’s eyes narrow “Then we give you time.”

Zoro’s fingers twitch near his sword hilt.

Hold on, Princess.

Just a little longer.

You throw the remote on the floor.

It doesn’t shatter. You wish it did.

You sit on the edge of the bed, back hunched, elbows on your knees. You’re trying to breathe. Trying not to scream.

They have more.

There’s always something else keeping you here.

You curl your fingers into fists, staring at the floor like it might give you answers.

And then…

An idea.

A stupid one.

A dangerous one.

But maybe the only one.

They need the chips to control people… Which means they must store them somewhere. Manufacture them. Distribute them... They must have more.

You lift your head slowly.

What if you get your hands on one? Not the remote... The chip.

If they had one in them, then they’d understand. Then they’d be forced to talk, to tell you how to remove it. You could even… put one in yourself. You’d control the rules. Flip the game.

It’s insane yeah, but it’s someting.

You slip out of your room again.

This time not to steal. But to gamble everything.

Straw Hats – All crammed in the dim lower level of the palace, half-hidden behind crates of medical tech, glowing tubes, and unmarked boxes.

Chopper mutters, “These are way more advanced than I thought…”

Robin runs her fingers across a small glass case “This must be where they store the chips. But it’s heavily protected.”

Zoro scans the shadows. He hasn’t said much, just clutching his swords like they might keep the guilt away.

Luffy’s serious now “We get one. Figure it out. Fix this. Then we go get her.”

Nami nods “We won’t leave without her.”

And then footsteps. Fast.

Everyone tenses.

You round the corner into the chamber with eyes wild, determination written across your face—and freeze.

They freeze too.

Ten pairs of eyes widen in shock.

“…Y/N?” Nami says first, confused “How did—?”

You don’t answer.

You don’t even think.

You run right toward him.

Zoro’s too stunned to move, until you leap forward and he instinctively catches you mid-air.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist. Your arms lock around his neck.

You bury your face into his shoulder, trembling, but laughing in relief, a breathless kind of joy.

“You’re here,” you whisper “You’re all here.”

Zoro breathes into your hair, his voice low, rough with emotion he doesn’t show often.

“Yeah” he mutters, holding you like he’ll never let go again.

“You idiot,” you mumble into his neck “Why’d you come?”

“Could ask you the same thing” he says. But his grip only tightens.

The rest of the crew gathers around, all at once full of emotion, relief, joy, disbelief.

Sanji clears his throat loudly “I would like to point out I also would have caught you. Perfectly. With grace.”

You laugh, still in Zoro’s arms, not even looking up “Sorry, love. My legs just knew where to go.”

Zoro smirks “Damn right they did.”

Luffy grins wide “We missed you, Y/N!”

But then your expression sobers, and you finally pull back just enough to look around.

“There’s something I need to do,” you say, “and you’re gonna help me do it.”

Zoro raises a brow “We were already planning to. What are you thinking?”

You glance at the crates “The chips. I need one.”

Everyone freezes again.

You explain you need one to see but not what you actually want to do with it.

And slowly, a knowing look forms between all of them.

Zoro’s eyes never leave yours.

Later in the labs, the air is thick.

Not just with the glow of the machines or the stale scent of old metal, but with tension. Emotions. Arguments just on the edge of spilling.

You’re standing with your hands on a glass case that probably holds your only shot at ending this nightmare.

But before you can even think of reaching for a chip, Zoro’s hand is on yours.

Firm. Unmoving.

“No” he says.

His voice isn’t raised, but it’s low. Sharp. Unshakable.

You look up at him, confused “Zoro...”

“No. You’re not using it on yourself.”

Around you, the crew slowly freezes, watching.

Luffy tilts his head “Wait… on yourself?”

Sanji narrows his eyes “That’s your plan?”

Robin frowns “You’re thinking of turning yourself into a hostage to negotiate information.”

You nod once “If they think I’d risk my own body, they might believe I’m serious. It’d force them to reveal how these things work.”

But Zoro’s hand is still gripping yours.

Tight.

“No,” he repeats “Hell no.”

You try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go “I thought you wanted to have the chip. Not become the threat.”

You meet his eyes, unflinching “If it gives us a chance—”

“Then we find another one.” His voice rises now “We find a way without you turning yourself into a damn target.”

Chopper steps forward, ears drooping “Y/N… please don’t. These things… they’re dangerous. I’ve never seen tech like this. If they activate it even once, it could—”

“I know,” you cut in “I know the risks. But they did it to him. To you, Chopper.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches “And you think that means you should join us in that pain? Hell no.”

Silence again, until Nami, ever the mood-shifter, lifts a brow and says flatly “So… did you meet the prince?”

You blink.

Zoro’s hand finally lets go of yours.

But his eyes stay locked on your face.

Your jaw twitches “Yeah.”

Nami smirks “And?”

You roll your eyes “He’s annoying. Like… deeply annoying.”

Zoro scoffs under his breath “Huh.”

You glance sideways “What?”

He shrugs “Nothing. You just… call me annoying, too.”

You squint “And?”

He crosses his arms, voice laced with irritation now “Just wondering if that’s your type or something.”

You blink “Are you serious?”

He looks off “You kiss me. You call me annoying. Now you call him annoying. Just wondering if I should be worried.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded “Zoro.”

“What?”

You step forward “You’re an annoying cute… okay? ...Sexy even. He’s just an annoying asshole.”

His arms fall to his sides “…Oh.”

The crew snorts, Usopp nearly chokes.

Sanji flips his cigarette in his mouth and mutters, “Still don’t know how you chose that mosshead over me.”

“Because she likes charm. It's time you accept it.” Zoro retorts.

“She just said you’re annoying.”

“She also said sexy.”

“You’re lucky she’s got weird taste.”

Nami rolls her eyes “Boys, please.”

You turn to Zoro, leaning close enough that your breath brushes his cheek.

“For the record,” you whisper, voice low, “I kissed you because you get me. Because I can be me with you.”

He doesn’t move and doesn’t speak. But his ears are red, and he shifts slightly, like he wants to pull you back into his arms right here.

You smirk and step back.

“Anyway,” you say, turning to the case again “We still need to find out how these chips work. And I have a feeling this room isn’t the only place storing secrets.”

Robin nods, serious again “Then let’s split. Cover more ground. But carefully.”

You exhale, trying to steady the rush in your chest, not just from the plan, but from him.

Zoro moves beside you again, his voice low in your ear “You’re never putting one of those in you. I’ll fight your whole kingdom before I let that happen.”

You turn your head toward him, smile soft but stubborn “We’ll see who fights harder.”

He grunts “Annoying.”

You grin “Sexy.”

He groans, but doesn’t stop you from reaching for the map Robin found. Because no matter how dangerous this next step is, you’re not walking it alone.

You’d just discovered the hidden files. Robin was flipping through them, Nami covering the hallway, Chopper checking the strange instruments, and Zoro never left your side.

Then, without warning the sirens screech through the stone corridors.

Bright red lights flash across the metal surfaces, drowning you in crimson warnings.

Zoro curses “Shit.”

A door slams behind you, another crashes down ahead.

Thick iron barriers.

Seastone bars.

It all happens in seconds.

You’re shoved away from the others as an invisible force pulls open a path, just for you. Like the walls are obeying your family’s command.

You try to resist “No—no, wait—I’m not going—”

But they’re already there.

Your father, cold as ever.

Your mother, arms crossed, looking through you.

And the prince, already smirking like he’s won.

“Hello my Princess” he coos, stepping forward to brush a hand against your cheek like he’s earned it “Didn’t think we’d find you again sneaking around, hm?”

Zoro SLAMS against the cage bars from inside “Don’t touch her.”

The prince doesn’t even flinch “Relax, green head. You’re in no place to bark.”

He lifts a hand and one of the guards shows the remote. The one you hate. The one that has hurt them both.

Your blood runs cold.

Zoro’s voice drops, deadly now “If you try that again—”

Your father smiles like he’s holding all the cards “If you try anything, I’ll kill you from the inside out.”

He lifts the remote slightly.

Zoro twitches already bracing.

And in that moment you make your move.

Silently, smoothly, you pull the chip from your pocket. The small vial glints in the red alarm light.

Your parents freeze.

The prince stares “What…?”

You meet their eyes. Then lift your chin “I have one.”

Gasps ripple through the room.

Zoro’s eyes widen “What are you doing?!”

Your father narrows his eyes “You wouldn’t...”

“Wouldn’t I?” you reply coldly.

You raise the injector and aim it at yourself. Press the tip to your upper arm.

Your mother scoffs “You don’t even know how it works.”

You jab it in hard.

The crew yell your name.

Chopper grips the bars “No—stop—Y/N, don’t!”

But you don’t flinch.

You feel the sting… but that’s it.

Silence follows.

Then… nothing. No pain. No pulse. No agony like the one Zoro and Chopper had when they were tagged.

Your parents look confused.

That’s when you smile.

You reach into your cloak, slowly pulling out a second item.

A remote. And you hold it up.

Right next to the chip now in your arm.

“That’s why,” you say softly, dangerously, “there was a remote labeled with the same serial number as this chip. I watched you show it off. You wanted me to believe you had power over one remote.”

You lift your thumb over the red button “And now I have power over myself.”

The prince actually stumbles back.

You step closer.

“You want to push your little button to hurt them?” you hiss, voice shaking with fire “Fine, do it. Then I’ll push mine. I’ll feel it too. Every time you hurt them, I’ll hurt myself.”

“You’re bluffing” your father hisses.

“Try me.”

Your grip tightens on the remote.

Zoro, inside the cage, looks wrecked, heart pounding against the bars, fists clenched.

“Y/N,” he growls “Don’t do this.”

But you don’t look away from your parents.

“I’m not scared of pain,” you say “Not anymore. Not if it means you never get to own me again. Not if it means saving my friends, my real family.”

You flick the switch to active mode on the remote, its light glows red “Make your move.”

No one breathes.

Even the prince’s smug face finally falls.

They’re beginning to understand that they’ve lost control... And you’re just getting started.

The room is still gripped by silence, the tension pressing on every breath. You’re standing there, thumb hovering over the red button on the remote now linked to your own chip, injected into your own body.

You’re not backing down.

Your father speaks first, voice razor-sharp.

“You’d really risk your own life… for these pirates?”

You take one slow breath in and then you smile. Not cold. Not fake. But raw. True. You.

“Yes.”

Luffy grabs the bars again, straining “Stop—Y/N, don’t—”

But the seastone drains his strength instantly, and he stumbles, gritting his teeth, his skin going pale.

Robin and Nami are yelling. Franky slams his fists against the cage. Usopp’s trying to fire something, but the walls are too thick. Jinbe is trying to analyze, trying to think, but his eyes are on you. On your resolve.

And Zoro…

Zoro is watching you like he’s losing you in real time.

“Y/N—don’t be stupid!” he roars.

You laugh once, breathless “This isn’t stupid, Zoro.”

You look at your family, bloodline only in name.

“You want to know why I’m doing this?” Your voice wavers, but you stand.

“It’s because they’re my family. The only real one I’ve ever had.”

Your eyes brim with tears, but you don’t blink them away. Not this time.

“They didn’t try to shape me. Or trap me. Or sell me off to some smug, pathetic prince.”

You throw a glance at the man beside your parents who immediately scowls at being called out.

“They treated me like a person. Like me.”

You glance at each of your crew through the cage.

"Sanji, who cooks me warm food and reminds me to eat when I'm sad. Nami, who always pulls me into her room when I'm feeling low and braids my hair in silence. Chopper, who patches me up, and always offers a hug even when he’s scared himself. Robin, who reads me stories of princesses who ran and ruled their own lives. Usopp, who never stopped telling me I'd be brave enough to save myself. Franky, Jinbe, Brook—each of them, arms and hearts wide open since day one.... And Luffy, my captain, who never once told me who I had to be, only who I wanted to be."

Then finally… Zoro.

"Zoro, who has always called me Princess but never made me feel like one in chains. Zoro, who holds my hand when I'm trembling, even if he never says much. Zoro, who wants me exactly as I am, even if we still didn't have the time to explore our feelings more yet."

Some of them are crying, some are smiling proudly at you.

“I’m doing this,” you say, now shaking, “because they are my family. They made me feel human. They made me feel seen. They made me…”

Your voice breaks.

You meet Zoro’s eyes. He’s frozen. Wide-eyed. Fists clenched white.

“…they made me feel love.”

Everything goes still.

Zoro blinks once. Like he wasn’t ready for it. Like he heard the word but his heart stuttered too hard to accept it.

You smile, eyes full of tears.

“Yeah. Love.”

And you press the button.

Zoro SCREAMS your name, it's the first time anyone ever heard him yell like that. Worried.

The world shatters.

Your body stiffens instantly, pain rips through you like lightning. Like fire. But you stay standing. Gritting your teeth, you hold the button down. You hold it.

Your parents yell. The prince steps back. The guards panic.

But you don’t stop.

You don’t stop until your legs give out.

Until the pain finally takes you to the ground.

“Y/N!!” Zoro is losing his mind, roaring, slamming his shoulder into the bars over and over, tearing his skin open. Still, he doesn’t stop.

“She—she said love,” Sanji whispers “She loves us.”

“We are family” Robin says quietly.

“She… is sacrificing herself” Chopper cries.

Luffy growls like a wild beast, standing back up “Let. Us. OUT!”

But the power shifts in that instant.

You broke the chain of fear and something changes in the air.

Zoro goes quiet... too quiet, as he watches your still form on the floor, and then he whispers, “You didn’t have to love me like that…”

But you did.

Because they are worth it.

Because he is worth it.

And because love shouldn’t come with chains.

The moment your body hits the cold marble, everything blurs.

Tag List: @onepiecestarry

[wolfjackle-creates]

(1.3k, typed directly into tumblr, unedited.)

That day was not the first time Bruce's world had ended. That had happened when he was eight an his parents had died.

It wasn't the first time Dick's world had ended, which had happened seven years earlier when his parents had died.

Alfred's world had ended several times over the course of his long life. But that didn't make this incident any easier to bear.

The day David Thomas Wayne was stolen from them split all of their lives into a Before and After just like every time their worlds had ended before.

It started as a good day. Davey was happy and asked his "Dickie" for a piggyback ride around the grounds. Bruce was able to stay home from Wayne Enterprises. And even Alfred was sitting out with them, in the shade with a pitcher of fresh squeezed lemonade next to him. He'd made Bruce juice a dozen lemons that morning in order to make it.

Selina was going to be coming over later to watch Davey while Bruce and Dick went out to watch over Gotham.

Bruce smiled as Dick tossed Davey in the air and caught him. Davey's shrieks of laughter echoed over the grounds and filled Bruce with a peace he never thought he'd get after his parents' deaths.

He collapsed in a seat next to Alfred.

"It's good to have children in the house again," commented Alfred.

"Yes," agreed Bruce.

Dick and Davey were rolling on the ground now. His two boys. The reasons he pushed himself to come home every night. Then Dick was on his feet and jogging over to Bruce and Alfred.

"Davey wants some lemonade!" he calls out when he's close.

"Anything for the young master." Alfred pulls out Davey's sippy cup from the diaper bag and fills it. "And would you like some as well, Master Dick?"

Dick grins. "I am rather thirsty."

Bruce poured a second glass and handed it to his oldest.

"Thanks, B!"

Bruce glanced past Dick towards Davey, wanting to make sure his kid hadn't gotten too far in the two minutes they had their eyes off him. He was still on the lawn pulling at the grass and Bruce waved to him.

Davey gave him an open mouthed smile and waved back.

Bruce was about to smile back when he noticed something strange. The grass was shining, green light reflecting off his son's skin. Bruce was on his feet in an instant, rushing forward.

Dick shouted something at him, but Bruce didn't respond. The green glow got brighter and it was clear the grass under Davey was changing.

"Davey!" he shouted.

His son began to sink into the ground. He looked at Bruce, reaching out, face now twisted in fear.

The last thing Bruce heard was his son's scream as he disappeared. By the time he got to the spot his son had been, the portal was gone and there was no sign of his baby.

---

Danny flew to the rendezvous spot and let out a breath of relief when he saw Ellie. She got here. She was safe.

"Watch out!" she called and Danny jerked to the side, only just avoiding the green blast that preceded his mom's yells.

Danny didn't even have the breath to curse her, too focused on the pain in his side and the fear of what would happen if she caught him.

Ellie shot an ectoblast back at his mom, and Danny couldn't even tell her to stop. He just grabbed his sister and pulled her to the side to avoid another shot from the ectorifle his mom was carrying.

Only he didn't notice the tree and was so tired his intangibility didn't kick in instinctively. They crashed to the ground.

His mom let out a laugh of triumph and Danny cringed back, shoving Ellie behind him as they fell.

Only they didn't hit the ground.

They fell right through into a portal, the sound of ticking echoing for just a moment before they were falling up and hovering above a gravestone, a man staring at them open mouthed.

Instinctively, Danny positioned himself in front of Ellie, but she made a noise and moved until she was right next to him, hands up and glowing green.

"We don't want any trouble," said Danny. "Please don't report us. We'll go." He grabbed Ellie's wrist and tried to urge her to lower her hands.

"Davey?" asked the man.

Danny shook his head. "I'm Danny Phantom."

Ellie let the ectoplasm concentrated around her hands dissipate, but crossed them to glare at Danny instead. "No, I'm Dani Phantom. With an I."

Danny let out a long breath. "Right. She's Dani with an i, I'm Danny with a y. Call us Phantom."

"How did you get here?" demanded the man.

"Rude," retorted Ellie. "We introduced ourselves, shouldn't you do the same?"

Danny winced and moved a few inches forward, positioning himself so his bruised right side was away from the stranger. Ellie better not get them killed.

But the man's eyes widened for a moment, and he gave a wry look. "Guess I should. I'm Bruce Wayne and you appeared in my family's cemetery."

Danny's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to interrupt. We'll be on our way. Please don't tell anyone you saw us?" He grabs Ellie's hand and starts to pull her up. Invisibility climbs up his legs. He's learned most people feel more comfortable when he disappears gradually rather than all at once.

"Wait!"

The pure desperation in that one word stopped Danny where he floated, only half visible.

"My son. Thirteen years ago, he disappeared through a portal just like the one you appeared through. Could you— Do you know what might have happened to him?"

"He disappeared through a portal?"

"He was only three. I've been praying for his return every day since."

Danny grimaced, but... He couldn't refuse. Not when Mr. Wayne looked so devastated and hopeful at the same time. He couldn't resist helping if he could give the man some sort of peace.

"We came through a portal to the Infinite Realms. Sometimes called the Ghost Zone. We don't actually know where we are since portals are completely unpredictable."

"Clockwork sent us here," added Ellie. "But we don't know why."

"We had to leave where we were. Clockwork helped."

"Where is the Infinite Realms?" asked Mr. Wayne.

"Right. Yeah, of course that's what you care the most about. It's where ghosts are from."

Bruce seemed to slump in on himself. "So my son is dead?"

Danny's eyes widened and she shook his head vehemently. "No! Not necessarily. Living beings can travel to the Infinite Realms safely. There's not much in the way of food and water, but portals open between the Infinite Realms and various Living Realms constantly. He might have come back through. Either back to this universe or another."

"Is there any way to track him? Find out what happened?"

Danny and Ellie exchanged a look. Danny shrugged. Ellie sighed. "I'm not sure. There's a few people we could probably ask. But if it's been so long..."

"Right, yes. Of course." Mr. Wayne looked them both over. "Will you tell me about the Infinite Realms and how to get ahold of these people who might know where my son is? In exchange, I can get you food and a place to rest for the night. A change of clothes."

Danny hesitated. He didn't need food as Phantom. But his side ached and a place to rest sounded perfect. And he still could eat. He glanced at Ellie, silently asking what she thought. She gave the smallest of nods.

"We'd be happy to," said Danny.

---

That night, Bruce sat before the batcomputer, Alfred at his shoulder as they watched the progress bar for the DNA test.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. The test wouldn't move any faster if he watched it and there were plenty of things he could do while it ran. But he couldn't look away.

Ninety-five percent.

Ninety-nine percent.

Finally it dinged.

Positive Match: David Thomas Wayne.

Behind him, Alfred gasped. Bruce stopped breathing entirely.

His son was home.

Dc x dp idea 8

What if Danny was actually Bruce’s son

Bruce is full aware he had a kid. Dick and Bruce actively knew Danny when he was a baby.

The kicker is that a natural portal opened up under him and stole him. Like they were at a park or something and with a green glow poof he is gone.

I’d blame clockwork for it. He want pariah sealed away and without Danny no one fixed vlads screw up

So danny as a baby is now in a different dimension. Fentons adopt (kidnap) the baby they find in the woods. Jazz wanted a baby brother and this baby came from a portal from the ghost zone.

They discover Danny is phantom. He didn’t know he was stolen from the woods. Jazz is panicking cause that’s her baby brother and there parents are insane. Cue parents wanting to poke and prod not nicely

Danny goes and gets Ellie cause he cares about his clone and they flee. They get in the ghost zone and clockwork does his messing around with time lines. Now Dani and Ellie are in the dc universe.

On the dc side. The same glowing green portal that stole Bruce’s son just opened and spit out Danny and Dani.

[thejukeboxzero]

Finals are still kicking my ass, but that's neither here nor there, Pt.5 mon amis-

_____

It’s been a few days since Dean got laid out by a guy who buys his kid light up sneakers and he’s built a fun list of lies to tell customers when they inevitably ask about the bruise that’s blossomed across his cheekbone. 

So far his favorite choices have been ‘an angry drunk guy tried to start a fight after closing’, ‘Sammy”s massive ego bumped into me’, and- much to Ellen's appallment and Jo’s amusement- ‘it was a sex thing’.

Because, really, when you’re a bartender you really can’t have people knowing that some scruffy professor in a rumpled trench coat took you out, then people will start thinking they can take you on when you cut ‘em off or toss them to the curb.

“I don’t blame him for hitting you right across the kisser,” Ellen grumbles after Dean tells his newest tall tale to the deliveryman just passing through, “I wanna’ do the same right about now.”

“I thought you loved me.” He asks with feigned sadness.

Ellen had gotten the truth out of Dean within the first five minutes of his shift, which was no surprise for either of them, she knows when he’s lying and how to get God's honest truth outta’ him. It��s infuriating.

“I love that you know when to stop pushin’ your luck.”

“Touche.” He goes back to wiping down the counters, biting back any more snarky remarks in the process.

It’s early in the day now (well, early for him), a little after 3pm, which means there’s barely anyone in the building, just the day drinkers who insist they can stop at any time, Ellen and Dean getting the bar ready for another evening of college students trying to pass off fake IDs made of printer paper, and Jo milling around the dining area, stocking napkins and condiments and whatever else she does (Dean doesn't know, and he doesn't want to, you couldn’t pay him to be a waiter, he’s happy behind the bar).

The front door opens with a brassy jingle and Dean snaps his head upwards only to be sorely disappointed at the sight of the Ash stumbling in, probably running off zero sleep and a liver-killing amount of energy drinks.

“Why’s Dean lookin’ at me like I just kicked his puppy?” Ash asks no one in particular, plopping down in the stool nearest to him as Dean picks his cleaning back up, “And what happened to your face?”

Dean turns around with a cocky grin, ready to make up the most obscene excuse he can possibly dream up, but Jo beats him to it.

“Some crusty old professor kicked his ass ‘cos he abducted his kid.” 

“He’s not crusty or old!” Dean throws his rag down on the worn wooden bar top with a wet ‘thwack’, “And I didn’t ‘abduct’ shit!”

“Top notch priorities there,” Jo chastises, sitting between Ash and Dean with a pile of unrolled silverware, “Defend his looks then your innocence.”

“It’s not like that, Jo.”

Jo leans towards Ash and whispers dramatically, “Dean has a man-crush on the…” She takes a breath, feigning a swooning motion, “strong blue-eyed academic.”

“I do not!” He feels heat creeping into his cheeks, “And- I- I never called him that.”

“No,” Jo agrees with a smug grin, “You just said he had ‘one of the hardest punches you have ever felt’ and that ‘his eyes just drilled into your soul’, which is way worse, in my opinion.”

“That sounds like a man-crush.” Ash confirms, accepting the glass of water Ellen silently slides him.

“I do not have a man-crush!” Dean turns his back to the peanut gallery, busying his hands by getting a new towel from the bleach bucket they keep under the counter, “Besides, wouldn’t it just be a normal crush? I mean, what’s the friggin’ difference if it’s a dude or a chick, right?” They’ve all gone quiet so he deems it safe to face them again, “It doesn't matter, because I do not have a-”

“Hello, Dean.”

“A man-crush…” He hopes his jaw isn’t too far on the floor, because Novak is standing right there, across the bar,  staring at Dean and his fucked up little group of merry men awkwardly, “Professor Novak!”

“Please don’t- only my students call me that.” He mumbles uncomfortably, pinning his gaze to the ‘no drinking under 21’ sign above Dean's head, “My name’s Castiel.”

“Castiel…” Dean mutters under his breath, trying to get a feel for the weird, clunky name, “Okay then. Well, Castiel, you wanna’ park it or you just gonna’ stand there?”

“I already parked outside,” Castiel answers but, thankfully, he strides over to the stool right across from Dean, “But I suppose I can sit.”

“Awesome, man, make yourself comfy.” Dean looks off to the side and see’s Jo and Ash both staring at Castiel.

Ash seems somewhat uninterested, like he’s just trying to match Dean's description of Castiel to the one in front of him, but Jo’s eyes are bugging out of her head as she looks from the professor to Dean, finally mouthing ‘he took you out?’.

Dean waves a dismissive hand in her direction, “What can I get you, Castiel?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t really drink.” He admits and Dean kicks himself.

Not everyone is eager to go for drinks, Winchester, should’ve just asked to meet him over coffee or something.

Dean tries to think of what they have that won’t be too harsh on the guy's palette, “Tell ya’ what, you like apple cider?”

“I believe so…” Castiel nods after a moment of thought, “My brother makes it every year in the fall and I quite enjoy it..”

“Well, this ain’t homemade and it’s got some alcohol so don’t go chugging it,” He bends down to retrieve a can from the mini fridge built into the wall, “But there’s this brewery a few counties over that makes some real good stuff, recently did this- ah what’s it called?” Dean squints at the can, “Honey-blackberry cider, you might like it.”

“Thank you,” Cas watches with intensity as Dean cracks the drink open and pours half of it into the nicest glass within arms reach. He accepts it when offered, taking a hesitant sip before a faint smile finds its way onto his face, “This is quite pleasant.”

Damn… He has a really nice smile.

No, focus on the task on hand.

“Glad you like it,” He can feel the distinct burn of three pairs of eyes staring at him and Cas, “And- uh- I’m glad you came by.”

Castiel finally makes eye contact with Dean, eyes still as piercing as their first meeting, though not nearly as homicidal (Hell yeah, progress), “You are?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I physically assaulted you.” Man this guy is blunt.

“I kinda deserved it,” Dean leans his forearms on the bar, leveling himself with Castiel, “Besides, who doesn't love a good battle scar, they make you sexy.”

Jo takes that as the perfect time to interject, “No they don’t!”

Dean ignores her, “Seriously though man… I’m lucky you didn’t do more, if I’d been in your position and thought I’d lost Sammy…” He chuckles and shakes his head, “Probably would be in police custody for manslaughter.”

“Yes well,” Castiel cocks his head and Dean really wants to know if Jack learned that from Cas or vice versa, “Jack is insistent that you caused no harm, if you had…”

He lets his threat hang in the air.

“Yeah, I get it,” Dean mumbles, hanging his head in shame, “How is Jack? Is he okay? I didn’t traumatize him, did I?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Castiel takes another sip of his drink, “It appears I was more distressed than him, though I don’t think he understands the gravity of what could have happened.”

Dean feels a weight being lifted off his chest, one he didn’t know he was even carrying, but he’d just been so fucking worried he’d scarred that kid for life.

“How are-” Dean cuts himself off quickly, still painfully aware of the audience they have, Dean just knows he’s going to be the subject of endless teasing after this, “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Castiel squints at Dean like he misheard.

“Yeah, it’s just, I guess losing your kid might be stressful-” ‘You guess??? Fucking smooth, Winchester’, “And uh… Sorry about that, you know.”

Castiel stares at Dean with a pinched expression for a couple beats, “If that was supposed to be an apology for causing me emotional damage, it was terrible.”

Ellen lets out a bark of laughter from where she is definitely just focused on counting the till and nothing else.

“Not my finest…” He mumbles out, pushing away from the bar like the few extra inches of space will keep Castiel from seeing how red his face has no doubt gotten.

They slip into an uneasy silence, Castiel sipping at his cider while Dean hovers near, not too close, not too far.

“I am sorry.” He tries again, once Cas has emptied his glass and chosen to stare through Dean with those shocking eyes.

“I know.” Castiel states it like a fact, slowly standing up, “And I thank you for wanting to make sure my son is okay, it seems you are not as careless as I first assumed.”

“Jeez man, thanks.” Dean can’t help the gooey grin that creeps onto his face at the compliment (or, at least, he guesses it’s a compliment).

Cas nods in response and only then does Dean realize what’s happening, that his cup is empty and now he’s walking right back towards the door; It makes something in his chest twist painfully.

“Wait just- uh- fuck-” He nearly trips over himself trying to get out from behind the bar, ripping an old receipt off the cash register as he scrambles for Cas, who stops and regards Dean with a tilted gaze, “We didn’t get off on the right foot-"

“Understatement.” 

Dean would be offended by the short response, but there's a hint of amusement in the man's tone that makes it soft, almost like he’s trying to be sarcastic.

“I know, I know,” He fishes a pen out of his back pocket and scribbles out his number, shoving the crumpled paper into Cas’ hand before he can chicken out, “But if you ever want another drink or somethin’ just let me know and I’ll tell you when my next shift is.” Then, he hastily adds, “It’s the least I can do.”

Castiel looks down at the old receipt, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

The scrap is carefully tucked away in the pocket of Cas’ well-worn trench coat, “Thank you, Dean.”

“Of course, Cas,” He claps his hand against the professors- very firm- bicep and gives him his signature Winchester-grin, “Don’t be a stranger.”

_____

<<First│<-Prev│Next

[callsign-swan]

18+ themes, non descript smut, not described drug use

Robert Reynolds didn't want to be a dad.

His own dad was an asshole, a giant fucking one at that. The thought of having a child, or bringing something so small and innocent into a world so shitty, sent a mix of sadness and pain shooting through him.

But then he met you.

You were before all the bad shit. Before the drugs, before the clinical trials to try and get better, before project Sentry.

You were a bright light in the dark storm Bob called life.

He learnt to relax around you, became a softer side of himself. A side of himself the world hadn't seen for a long time.

Bob didn't expect to fall in love. But there was something about you, he just couldn't stay away. He loved the way your lips felt against his, the way your warm can't felt as he rutted into.

Desperately, his forehead against her shoulder, her fingers tugging at his curls. Pathetic moans fell from his lips as he gripped your hips, enough to be bruising.

Delicious bruises she would wear with pride.

Bob didn't know where it all went wrong. It was like one day you were there and the next day you were gone.

Bob was in Malaysia by the time you were months into your pregnancy. You didn't think he'd ever get to meet his son.

When a mysterious woman contacted you, saying she had Bob with her and she'd been helping him with his problem, a sponsor of sorts, you declined seeing him.

But you had no choice.

Men, all big and terrifying, showed up at your door. You held your son as they put you in the back of a car. Kept him tucked against you, kept yourself calm as they took you to God knows where.

You didn't expect to come face to face with your ex.

After meeting Valentina, you were sure you were gonna die. Whatever this Project Sentry is was going to kill you and take your son away. But you weren't going to go down without a fight.

He was blonde, now. In a golden suit that left little to the imagination. But it was still him. It was still Bob.

You swallowed, kept holding your son against you as he approached. When you had decided he was close enought, you took a step back and Bob stopped.

Unable to say anything to you, his eyes fell to your son.

It was him, but small. Obviously, the little boy had some of your features as well, but they weren't as noticeable as his. His eyes, his hair,his nose.

That little boy was his child.

"Hi," Bob tried gently. He tried to step closer to you, but you retreated.

"Bobert," you whispered as you took him in. "Bob, what happened to you?"

He had never seen you look so scared before, not since the night you left. A night that haunted both of your memories, a night Bob had tried so desperately to forget.

"I-I got better," he said, standing a little taller. His shoulders were no longer hunched forward, his posture becoming perfect. "I got better."

But he looked at your son again, expression softening. His son. Definitely his son. He looked up from where his face had been pressed against your shoulder, looked at Bob like he didn't know him.

That was because he didn't. He didn't know who his father was. But Valentina had brought you both here so he could fix that.

Bob thought Valentina had brought you here to reunite him with his family. You thought Valentina had brought you as some form of torture.

Neither of you suspected it was for control. Complete and utter control.

[jocelynellie]

Lover Boy -KA¹²

Kimi Antonelli x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Kimi being completely in love with his girlfriend Contains: fluff

Kimi stared at his phone, screen still glowing. His hand dropped slowly to his side. He didn’t speak.

She sat up from the couch. “Well?”

He looked at her. Eyes wide. Breath caught. And then—“I’m in.”

Her face split into the brightest, most heart-squeezing smile. “You’re—Kimi!”

Before he could finish breathing, she was in his arms. He wrapped her up, lifting her off the floor in a blur of laughing, breathless joy. She buried her face in his neck. He spun once, not even aware he was crying until her thumbs brushed his cheeks.

“You’re in Formula 1,” she whispered, grinning through her own tears. “You did it.”

“I only wanted to tell you,” he whispered back. “You’re the first person I thought of.”

“You’re the only one I’ll ever cheer for,” she said.

And in that tiny apartment, with his future finally unlocked, Kimi held the girl who had believed in him long before the world ever would—and realized this was what dreams really felt like.

It didn’t matter where Kimi was, on the starting grid under a sweltering sun or curled up on his couch with the lights off—his mind, without fail, found its way back to her.

Sometimes it was an involuntary reflex. A word, a smell, the way someone tied their hair or laughed too hard at a bad joke. Other times it was more deliberate, like now, in the paddock, where she walked three steps behind him, pretending like they weren’t about to melt into each other the second the cameras were gone.

He could hear her sandals slap against the concrete. Somehow, even her footsteps made him smile.

“Your zipper’s crooked,” she whispered, close enough that the back of his neck prickled.

Kimi paused mid-stride, grinning as he turned slightly. “Is it? Come fix it, then.”

She rolled her eyes but stepped forward without hesitation, fingers brushing his back as she tugged at the fireproof suit.

"Better?"

“Not really,” he said, teasing. “But you touching me helps.”

Her laugh was like a guitar string plucked inside his chest—sharp, warm, and unforgettable.

That night, back in the hotel room they shared, she sat cross-legged on the bed, wearing one of his oversized team shirts, face glowing from the post-shower warmth. She was watching something dumb on TV—some dating show with absurd challenges—but Kimi couldn’t focus on anything except the way she bit her thumb when she was trying not to laugh.

He sprawled beside her, head in her lap, pretending to be interested in the screen.

“Do you ever think about how this is it?” he asked softly, fingers drawing lazy circles on her thigh.

“This?” she tilted her head.

“You. Me. I mean this version of life. Like, I’m eighteen and driving in Formula 1, and I’ve got this, this perfect thing in my life.”

She leaned down to kiss his forehead, her hair falling over his face like a curtain.

“You’re being cheesy.”

“I’m being honest,” he murmured, nuzzling into her stomach.

She ran her fingers through his curls. “Well, I like your cheesy honesty. Even if you still snore.”

“I do not.”

“You do. Like a small, overworked tractor.”

Kimi groaned, but he smiled into her skin. Everything felt more real when it was her saying it, even insults sounded like lullabies.

Some mornings when they stayed together, Kimi would wake up before her just to watch her sleep. Her hair tangled on the pillow, face turned toward him, mouth slightly open. She drooled sometimes, but he thought it was the cutest thing in the world. He’d kiss her nose lightly and whisper things like “I love you” and “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” just in case dreams could hear.

One morning, she caught him.

“Are you watching me sleep again?”

“I’m admiring,” he defended, smirking.

She stretched like a cat, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “That’s creepy.”

“You say that,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, “but you’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

He leaned down, kissed her pink cheeks. “You so are.

After a particularly grueling race in Singapore, Kimi stumbled off the podium half-drenched in champagne and sweat, body aching, eyes stinging. It wasn’t even about the win—he’d placed third—but he needed her.

They barely made it to the motorhome before he collapsed onto the couch, and she was already beside him, pulling his boots off with a little wince.

“You’re too quiet,” she said gently. “Are you okay?”

He looked at her, eyes tired but so full of love it almost hurt to hold it all.

“I just wanted you.”

“You have me.”

“No, I mean—on that last lap, everything was so loud, I couldn’t even hear my engineer, but I kept thinking… If I mess up, I don’t see her tonight. I don’t get this.”

She climbed into his lap like she’d done it a hundred times—because she had—and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’d see me no matter what,” she whispered. “Even if you crashed, even if you came in last, I’d still be here.”

Kimi buried his face in her shoulder. “Don’t say crash.”

“Fine. Slow pit stop. Mechanical failure. Rain delay.”

“That’s better.”

The night before his home Grand Prix, Kimi stood at the balcony with her by his side, watching the city lights flicker like camera flashes.

“Do you get nervous?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said. “But not about racing. I get nervous about how lucky I am. That I get to do this—and then come home to you.”

She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, forehead resting on her temple.

“Promise me something?” he murmured.

“Anything.”

“When we’re eighty and grumpy, and I’ve retired with like twenty world titles—”

“Oh please.”

“—promise me we’ll still do this. Just… stand together and look at the lights.”

“Only if you promise to always let me wear your shirts.”

“Deal.”

He tried not to let it show in the paddock, but everyone saw it. Every mechanic, every engineer, every journalist.

They knew Kimi’s gaze always scanned the garage until it found her. Sometimes she wore sunglasses to avoid being too conspicuous, but Kimi could spot her from anywhere—like a lighthouse in the fog. He smiled wider when she was around. He was sharper in meetings, more focused on track. Someone once joked that she was his good luck charm.

“No,” Kimi had said, without a trace of humour. “She’s just my everything.”

Back in private, they had these quiet moments of electricity—those pauses between brushing teeth and turning off the lights, or while folding laundry on the rare Sunday afternoon they had off. Kimi would reach for her hand mid-conversation, or kiss her shoulder while passing behind her.

Sometimes they slow-danced in the kitchen. No music. Just the rhythm of dishwater dripping and the hum of the refrigerator.

“Why are we dancing?” she whispered once, arms around his neck.

“Because you’re in my arms, and there’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“But I’m your sap.”

She kissed his collarbone and laughed into his shirt. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Word count: 1.2k

[hearts4hughes]

i would love for some ex-bf rafe who learns ur going on a date... oh i'm dizzy

the words didn’t sound right coming out of topper’s mouth. rafe’s brows furrowed, his ears started ringing, and his blood began to boil. “what?” he stifled out a laugh, staring at topper like it was a dare. “say that shit again?”

“y/n, bro,” topper chuckles, slapping rafe’s back like he’s telling the punchline to a joke. “she’s got a date with that douche who’s family owns the country club.” he leans back, taking a swig of his beer like he single handedly didn’t ruin rafe’s night.

“you gotta be fucking kidding me.” he mutters, white fingers clenching around his glass. his heartbeat is loud in his ears. skin hot to the touch. his mind swirls like a tropical storm in his head.

topper stops drinking mid sip. he holds the glass to his lips and looks at rafe who’s staring into space like he’s plotting murder. all amusement drains from his face as he realizes. “yo, man, i didn’t think you’d care. i thought you were broken up with her.”

“the fucks that matter for?” rafe answers fast, defensive. his eye twitches as he looks at topper like a predator waiting to pounce. he places down his glass with a slam that causes the room to go silent.

topper’s jaw hangs agape, eyes wider than a child’s. “n-no, it doesn’t matter. i just don’t want you to freak out or anything.” he says. “johnny’s a good kid, anyway. she’ll be fine-”

“i don’t give a shit. ok, top?” rafe’s voice is thunderous. it bounces off the walls and guests try not to look towards the two boys. “frankly, i don’t care if he’s prince fucking charming.”

topper nods, eyes falling to the floor. a light blush floods his cheeks as he mutters some excuse to get away. rafe doesn’t even acknowledge his voice, just stares him down like he did something wrong.

he doesn’t even blink until topper’s gone. until the echo of his footsteps fades down the hall. then, and only then, does rafe move.

his jaw tightens, grinding like he’s in pain. you’ve got a date. with some clean cut, buttoned up, generational wealth little bitch who probably thinks chivalry is buying you a glass of wine and not commenting on your ass when you walk away.

his girl.

his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek, slow and venomous. you’ve probably already picked out your outfit. probably did your makeup all soft and glowy the way you knows he likes it. probably squealed about it to the same friends who told you to break up with rafe.

his body moves before his mind, and before he realizes it, he’s halfway to your house.

~

you’re swiping on lipstick when the knock hits the door. three sharp raps, fast and aggressive. not the soft kind that says hey, just checking in. no. this knock sounds like a warning.

you freeze, lipstick tube still in hand. a pit forms in your stomach as if your body already knows who’s there. you weren’t expecting anyone. your date isn’t supposed to pick you up for another hour.

you set the makeup down and move through the apartment with that weird feeling that you’re being watched. you already have a feeling, but it still steals the breath from your lungs when you see him standing there.

rafe.

polo shirt buttoned up enough to be classy, and show off his muscular chest. his jaw is tight, hands flexing at his sides like he’s holding himself back from something dangerous. his eyes drag over you in a way that makes your skin burn, even with two layers of makeup and your prettiest dress between you and him.

he doesn’t say anything at first. he just looks at you. looks through you. he’s always been able to read you like a book—it’s one of the things you hated.

“you really goin’ out lookin’ like that?”

you blink. your spine straightens. “you can’t just show up here, rafe.”

he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t budge. he tips his head, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek like he’s chewing on something bitter. “wasn’t gonna. wasn’t planning on it.” his gaze drops down the line of your body and comes back up slower, meaner. “but then i heard some shit..and suddenly, i couldn’t stay away.”

you fold your arms across your chest, lips tightening. “you heard i have a date. that’s what you mean.”

“a date,” he repeats, scoffing. “yeah. with the fuckin’ golden boy. you got bored of people who make your life messy, huh?”

“i got bored of people who lie, rafe,” you shoot back before you can stop yourself. the words taste bitter, too real, and you hate that he still makes you say them.

for a moment, something flickers behind his eyes. something like guilt. something like loss. but it’s gone as fast as it came.

“he’s not gonna know what to do with you,” he murmurs, stepping forward. just one inch, but it makes the air shift. “he’s gonna try and play it safe. ask you about college. open doors. kiss you soft.” he tilts his head again, eyes flicking to your lips. “you gonna let him?” he asks, voice rough and close now. “you gonna let him kiss you like you’re some glass doll?”

you swallow, throat tight. the silence stretches between you, hot and coiled, and he watches you like he already knows your answer. he always does.

“yeah,” he chuckles, breath hot on your face. “that’s what i thought.” his hands find their place on your hips, bringing you closer. now, you were flush with him—the same man you swore never to talk to again. “now cancel that date before i go pay him a visit, yeah?”

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @43hughes @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @bibissparkles @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife

[elleaitch22]

Terms of Endearment

Chapter 13: Learning How to Stay

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: Sorry about the delay y’all! It was a rough week. I saw a bunch of immigrants being round up and bussed off, and it threw me off pretty badly. Chapter is kinda short because I literally couldn’t snap out of it. Anywho, I’m gonna look at your suggestions tomorrow before I start writing Chapter 14. I really wish it was better, but I know Chapter 14 will be lol!! I hope y’all enjoy!! xx Elle

Warnings: Nightmares, low self-worth, PTSD symptoms, anxiety (mild)

Word Count: 3.5k words

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi arrived at Penthouse 8 bright and early on Tuesday morning. She was intentional about her outfit; she didn’t want to be the reason Soleil looked like she wouldn’t fit in on her first day at Four Oaks. The flowy, cream and green pants paired perfectly with the tight, cream tank top. Brown sandals and gold jewelry were the perfect accents.

“Good morning, Azzi. How are we doing today?” Paige questioned, facing the stove.

Azzi sat at one of the bar stools, noting the lack of sunny energy in the room. “Good morning. I was up a few times. He was in a few dreams, freaked me out a little. Where’s Soleil.”

Paige looked at her watch. “Sleep. I’m gonna get her up in a couple minutes, once I finish cooking. Wanna talk about it?” Glance tossed over her shoulder.

“Uh, sure.” She began. “Do you have anything you need help with?”

“You can cut some apples and oranges if you want?” Paige offered.

Azzi was grateful for the task, standing to gather the fruit and supplies. “For the first one, I was in my apartment with Soleil. We were working on homework, I think. He just popped up, saying mean things. I woke up when he said something to Soleil.”

Paige nodded, letting her continue.

“Second one I was there by myself. He was there when I got home, and he started hitting me. And I don’t even know why that happened in the dream; he’s only hit me once.”

“Azzi,” Paige started, covering her hand, “He shouldn’t have hit you at all, and it’s okay if you’re having nightmares about it.”

The brunette nodded, focusing on cutting up the fruit. This is why she was beginning to like the morning meeting. She could air out her feelings and be validated.

“The last one was the worst. Everyone was out somewhere, I don’t even know where. Soleil went missing. Nobody could find her, and he made me leave you guys as a trade.” Azzi finished.

Paige’s hand came to cup the nape of her neck this time, “Azzi, can you look at me?”

Azzi shook her head, hands shaking as she cut the last apple slice.

“Okay. Nothing’s going to happen to Soleil, I promise. She’s always got somebody who would die before they would let anything happen to her. Nika, Ice, Jana, KK, me, you. She’ll be okay.” The blonde’s free hand went to Azzi’s chin, forcing her to look at her. “You are safe with me, Az. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, alright?”

Azzi didn’t say anything, just stared into Paige’s eyes, but she was gone. Physically with her, but mind away.

“Azzi,” Paige called, squeezing the back of her neck a little.

The woman blinked quickly, clearing out whatever was going on in her mind.

“Did you hear me?” The blonde questioned. “Nothing is going to happen to you or Soleil. I won’t let him hurt you, not again.”

Azzi nodded, trying to believe what Paige was telling her. “It’s just hard to remember that when it’s the middle of the night.” She said with a cynical laugh.

“You can always come up here if you need. If you don’t feel safe, or if you just want to talk, you can always come here. I know Soleil would love a sleepover, so our door is always open.”

Pale thumbs rubbed at Azzi’s jaw, reminding her to unclench her teeth. “I’ll remember that. Thanks, Paige.”

The blonde leaves her in the kitchen and Soleil is left with her thoughts.

Would Paige really want to talk about her abuser at 3 a.m.? Did she really want her to come over whenever?

Her brows were furrowed when Paige came back with Soleil in tow. “Rule number two, Azzi.” She said, casually.

She thought back to the rules listed in her journal – she could ask if she didn’t know what to do, didn’t understand what was expected of her.

“Maybe after Soleil gets to school?” Her shoulders relaxed at Paige’s nod.

Soleil sat quietly at the island, something very unusual when she was at home.

“What’s wrong, Sunny Girl.” Azzi said, moving closer.

The girl shook her head and stuck her thumb in her mouth, pout deepening at the question.

“She doesn’t want to go to school. I think she might be a little nervous.” Paige spoke lowly.

Azzi had figured that, as her last experience with a new school wasn’t great. “That’s okay, Lei. We can–”

“We stay here and do school?” Soleil’s eyes had lit up with excitement and hope.

The brunette’s heart dropped to her stomach, knowing she’d be crushing the girl’s dreams. “Well, you’re only going to go to school for the morning, then me and Mo are gonna come get you for lunch, and we’ll come home and finish school! And then your mommy’s gonna pick you up after we finish! Does that sound okay?” Azzi tried to sound joyful with the plan, hoping the anxiety in her voice wasn’t audible.

Big blue eyes locked onto the kitchen counter, face pensive, “If you do my hair, I agwee.”

A tanned hand shot out, “You’re a good negotiator.” A quick handshake and a smile and the deal was on.

Two plates of French toast, chicken sausage, eggs, and fruit appeared before them. “Okay, we have 45 minutes until we need to be on the way to school, so I can go in and meet your teacher, Lei.” Paige walked around to sit on the other side of Soleil. “So, no games or tv this morning, alright?”

Soleil nodded, grabbing both women’s hands. “Dear God,” She started, head bowed. “Thank you fow my yummy bweakfast. Thank you fow my mommy. Please let hew have a gweat day! Thank you fow my Azzi. Please help us have a fun time aftew school.” She paused, voice dropping a bit. “Please help me like my new school and have nice fwiends. In Jesus name, amen.”

It wasn’t everyday Azzi her a child that young pray so well, “Soleil, that was a great job, Sweetheart.” She ruffled the girl’s hair before digging in.

Plates were empty in ten minutes. Paige went to clean up and get dressed while Azzi followed Soleil to her room to help her get ready.

Her heart warmed seeing Soleil in her uniform. “Why can’t I wear my unicorn dress today?” Soleil pouted.

“Because Four Oaks has uniforms. Everyone matches so no one feels left out.” Azzi answered gently. “Do you want me to do something with purple butterfly clips to match your shirt?”

“Yes, please. I want lots of bwaids in the fwont!” She smiled brightly. “What awe we gonna do aftew we get home?”

Azzi scrunched her face like she was deep in thought. “Maybe we can learn about volcanoes and make our own.” She said, parting the front half of Soleil’s hair.

“I wanna make a volcano!” She exclaimed loudly.

Soleil rambled about how they could make the rainbow pretty and paint it pink and add purple glitter since it’s mommy’s favorite. She seemed excited for their after school adventure, energy rubbing off on Azzi.

A knock sounded at Soleil’s bedroom door. “You guys ready?” Paige questioned.

Azzi’s mouth went dry.

Paige was still oh so fine. She wore a neutral outfit. Simple. Loose khakis and a cream linen shirt hung on her frame nicely. Her hair was down today; natural waves framed her face beautifully.

“Yeah, mommy! I’m weady.” Soleil’s voice broke Azzi’s Paige-induced trance. She walked to her mom, putting her had in the larger outstretched one. “If I do a good job, we can have a movie dinner and night.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Drop off went well. Soleil skipped to her classroom, holding her mom’s hand. She showed Paige her desk, cubby, and the book nook while Azzi talked to Mrs. Russell about what happened at St. Paul’s. The teacher reassured Azzi that nothing like that would be permitted at Four Oaks. Mrs. Russell walked her to the door, gentle hint very clear.

Azzi signaled to Paige that they would need to leave. She smiled as the tall blonde knelt, tugged Soleil close to her chest, and whispered something in her ear.

As they walked back out to the car, Paige looked back several times.

“Relax, P. I really think this will be a good fit for her.” Azzi said, laying a hand on her back.

Paige nodded, “I know, I’m just worried.” She sighed. “I know she’ll probably love it, and it’ll be great, but I thought that about St. Paul’s too.”

“Yeah, but this is a new place. They know all about you and your orientation, and they are accepting of it.”

Paige opened the passenger door for Azzi, “I just don’t want this to fuck up her childhood.”

“That school is good. The classrooms have pride flags. And if you don’t like it, pull her out, and I’ll be a private tutor or something. But you have to let her settle, see how the school really is.”

The blonde nodded. Azzi was making sense. She just needed to calm down and see how everything went. Soleil had a lot of people looking out for her, making sure she was okay.

“Alright.” She said. She reached into her back pocket, pulling out a sheet of folded paper. “I have your list for today. But we need to talk about what had you confused this morning.”

“Well, I don’t need an explanation, more like clarification.” Azzi started. “Do you really want me to come up here if I can’t sleep or are you being nice?”

Paige smirked, “I’m trying to date you, Azzi, so of course I’m being nice. But even if I wasn’t interested, we’re friends too. I want to help you, and if that means coming upstairs for a few nights, that’s fine with me.” She cocked a brow slightly. “Was there anything else?”

“Yeah. Do I have to talk about it like we did this morning?” She questioned.

“Not if you don’t want to. It may help though. We could even get you a therapist if you want.” Paige said, handing her the list.

Work on setting up apartment

At least 3 glasses of water before you pick up Soleil

Sunlight for 10 mins

Make list of materials for Soleil’s afterschool

Journal prompt: perfect day

Before they long, they were back at the apartment.

“Have a good day. Morgan will be here at 11 to take you to pick up Soleil. Let me know if you need anything.”

Azzi rode the elevator to her floor, cataloguing all the things she could get done in the next two and a half hours. There was a thin figure waiting outside her door.

Nika.

“Hey girl,” Croatian accent light. “I brought coffee so we could have a little boost while we work.”

Azzi took the cup and brought it to her lips. “Thanks, Nika. I’m happy you’re here, so I don’t have to do everything myself.”

She unlocked her front door, ushering the other woman in.

“Oh, Ice should be here soon, since she was your interior designer.”

“It’s mainly just sorted into boxes for each room, but if we can get the couch, the table for Soleil’s room, and the bean bags set up, I think we’ll be in pretty solid position.”

Nika nodded, “Good, good. While we’re putting the couch together, I can ask you a few questions. “She added casually.

“Okay,” Azzi was more focused on opening one of the eight boxes for the couch.

“How are you liking it here? Like seriously.” Nika went to another box, cutting the cardboard off smoothly.

“I’m doing okay. I’m trying to work through being accepted. And there not being a trap door with every decision I make.” She said.

Nika was quiet, making sure Azzi didn’t have any more to get out. “I know that can be tough. You’re almost rewiring your brain to think a completely different way. You have to teach your brain and your body that you are in a safe space with safe people.”

Azzi’s eyes were wide with surprise. She’d just analyzed everything Azzi had said in thirty seconds.

“Oh, I was a psychology major, Azzi. Know all about how easy it is for words to fuck someone up.” The woman smirked. “You’re already been accepted; you’re our family. Paige let you in. She doesn’t do soft. Not easily. She’s been carved into corners for Soleil. But you? You’re the only one who got past her walls just by… being.”

The last sentence bounded around in Azzi’s head. Paige had really let me into their life and accepted me into the fold.

The two women worked in relative silence. They screwed the little feet on the bottom and sat each piece up. Azzi was happy she picked a couch with a low difficulty, or she’d probably doing homework

“Okay, Fudd. I’ve let you stew long enough for me to ask you the real questions.” Nika said, smirking after. “You happy?” she asked, turning back to Azzi.

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Azzi let out a soft breath, smiled faintly. “Yeah. I think so.”

Nika crossed her arms and tilted her head. She didn’t move.

Azzi’s smile faded a little. “That’s what’s scary.”

Nika sat on the arm of the couch. “Explain.”

Azzi settled onto the floor again, legs folded under her, her iced coffee balanced on the nearest box. “I keep waiting to feel like I’m faking it. Like I don’t belong here — with Soleil, with Paige, in this building. But I don’t. That’s what’s terrifying. Because if this is real, then I could lose it.”

“You think she’d leave you?” Nika asked gently.

Azzi shook her head. “Not like that. I just – I’ve never been this safe. It makes me want to self-destruct a little.”

Nika nodded slowly. “You want to know something about Paige?”

Azzi glanced up.

“She doesn’t do soft. Never has. Not with people. Not even with her parents. But Soleil cracked her open. And you? You slipped in so quiet we almost didn’t notice. And now she’s soft around you, too.”

Azzi’s throat tightened.

“I know you care about her. And Soleil,” Nika said, quieter now. “I know you’d never hurt them on purpose. But I need to know you won’t run when it gets too real.”

Azzi stared at the floor. “I’m not scared I’ll break her. I’m scared I’ll break me.”

The silence stretched between them. Nika didn’t fill it.

“When I was with Grant, I didn’t have anything for myself,” Azzi murmured. “Not a toothbrush, not a key to the apartment, not even a drawer. Nothing that said I mattered. Being here — being wanted here — it’s like holding something fragile. And I don’t trust myself not to drop it.”

Nika knelt down beside her, her voice firm but kind. “Then let us help you hold it.”

Before Azzi could respond, another knock sounded — louder this time. A beat later, the door swung open.

“Please tell me someone’s wearing real pants,” Ice called as she walked in, balancing a tray of pastries and a canvas bag bursting with snacks and what looked like an electric screwdriver. She stopped short. “Oh good. Emotional breakdown first. Building shit after. Love that for us.”

Azzi snorted despite herself. Nika rolled her eyes.

Ice kicked off her boots and dropped the bag beside the bookshelf. “I brought cinnamon rolls and batteries. I’m the handyman of your dreams.”

“God help us,” Nika muttered.

“Exactly,” Ice said, pulling a cinnamon roll from the tray and tossing it to Azzi like a softball. “Fuel up. We’ve got a bed to build and a shelf that needs redemption.”

They got to work, spreading the unassembled pieces of Soleil’s twin bed across the living room. Ice found the instructions, skimmed them for a total of five seconds, and declared them “useless garbage” before tossing them aside.

Azzi tried to follow the manual anyway. Nika refused to hold anything without criticizing its symmetry. Ice ended up on the floor with a power drill and half a cinnamon roll in her mouth, narrating the process like a podcast.

It was chaotic. It was messy. It was joyful.

They argued over whether butterfly decals were juvenile (Nika: yes, Ice: absolutely not), laughed until they cried when the bookshelf collapsed sideways, and somehow managed to string twinkle lights above the bed without anyone falling off the chair.

When the last screw went in and the mattress was lowered into place, Azzi stood back and stared at it.

The room felt different now.

Permanent.

“She’s gonna freak out,” Ice said, wiping her hands on her jeans. “This is a straight-up fairy room. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Azzi nodded, arms crossed loosely over her chest. “She deserves it.”

“You all do,” Nika said. Her voice was quieter now. “This? All of it? It’s good, Azzi. You’re good.”

Azzi blinked fast, not quite trusting her voice.

Ice crossed the room and handed her a small, silly pillow she’d tucked in her bag — pale pink, embroidered with STAY SOFT in sparkly thread.

“For the bed,” she said. “Or your couch. Whatever.”

Azzi took it with a shaky laugh.

“Welcome to the family,” Ice said. “You’re stuck with us now.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The apartment was quiet again. Too quiet. Ice and Nika left five minutes earlier. They had real jobs to do.

Azzi stood in the center of the living room, hands on her hips, eyes skimming over what they'd accomplished. The couch was assembled, the rug was nestled under the furniture, and the coffee table was perfectly coordinated with the rest of the space.

Soleil’s room was complete — a soft glow spilling from under the door where the string lights hummed against the wall. The butterfly decals looked a little lopsided. Ice would say they gave the room character.

Ice did an amazing job.

The silence pressed in.

She crossed to the kitchen counter and picked up Paige’s folded list, smoothing it open on the marble.

To Do:

Work on setting up apartment

At least 3 glasses of water before you pick up Soleil

Sunlight for 10 mins

Make list of materials for Soleil’s afterschool

Journal prompt: perfect day

A flutter of guilt rose. Looking back at the list, her eyes snagged on the first item. The house isn’t finished, and it’s nowhere.

She should be doing more. The closet was still half-full of things she hadn’t unpacked. She hadn’t touched the bag of maternity clothes Paige had bought “just in case.” The hall closet looked like a graveyard of scattered shoes. The crib still needed decorations. She hadn't made any actual lesson plans for Soleil’s electives — today would be mostly improvising.

Grant’s voice rose, uninvited, like oil on water:

“You can’t even finish what you start.”

“You think being good for five minutes erases years of being useless?”

“Everyone loves you until they realize you’re work.”

She shut her eyes. Tried to breathe. Counted backward from five.

It didn’t work.

Azzi moved slowly to the bathroom, flicked on the light. Cool tile under bare feet. Steam still clung to the corners of the mirror from this morning.

She looked at her reflection. Puffy eyes. Paint on her forearm. A small tear in her t-shirt sleeve. She looked… loved.

Her heart was racing anyway.

“You’re messy. You’re needy. No one stays for that.”

She opened the medicine cabinet. No pills, no old bottles. Just sunscreen, a lavender roller, a half-used tube of concealer, and a folded index card she’d taped to the inside of the mirror last week.

She read it out loud.

“You are allowed to take up space.

You are safe now.

You are not too much.

You are learning how to stay.

You are loved.

You are loving.

She touched each sentence as she said it, grounding herself in the repetition.

Azzi closed her eyes and pictured Soleil’s face when she saw the new bed. Paige’s voice saying, “Wear something fun.” Ice handing her that ridiculous STAY SOFT pillow like it was a badge of honor.

“People don’t want a project. They want a prize.”

She stared hard at herself in the mirror. “You’re not a prize,” she said quietly. “You’re not a project. You’re a person. And they love you anyway.”

It didn’t fix everything. But it helped.

She stood there for a minute longer, breathing slow and deep. Her reflection didn’t look so panicked anymore. Just tired. But steady.

In the next room, her phone alarm buzzed.

Pick up Soleil @ 12:00.

She shut the alarm off and smiled. Time for volcanoes.

[yourlipstogodsears]

What Pope Says, Goes (Andrew Pope Cody Smut!)

Summary: Pope finds your vibrator after coming home from jail after 3 years.. and it’s an interesting reaction. (rough play, brief moment of choking, overstimulation, eating out, taunting, etc.)

It was supposed to be a surprise, him coming home. He swung by the Cody house and hashed out what he needed to with Smurf and the brothers. Tonight was going to be about reconnecting.. well til his little discovery.

While rummaging through the drawers trying to find a change of clothes after showering and he finds your vibrator… and his eyes turn stone cold.

He doesn’t like being replaced. He doesn’t like the idea of toys being used in the bedroom. It’s his hands and his cock or it’s nothing for her. He thought she was waiting for him to get out and please her. All alone she was getting herself off… thinking of him.. which lightens the punishment but never less warrants a punishment in his mind.

So when you get home from the store and are stocking the toilet paper and paper towel in the hallway closet. Pope is standing in the bedroom door way waiting for a good moment. He grabs you around the waist with the other over your mouth and drags her to the bedroom.

He slams the bedroom door shut with his foot and pushes her onto the bed. His voice is low and dangerous as he leans over her, pinning her down with his body weight. He removes his hand from her mouth slowly but keeps her firmly under control.

“you think you can get yourself off huh?” he asks her coldly grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. “You think you don’t need my hands or my fucking mouth or my fucking dick huh?”

you pant, “you’re home?”

His face is stoic, his voice cold as he speaks. He reaches into the drawer and finds the vibrator, holding it up between his fingers. Explain this to me. He demands, his eyes piercing through her. He’s jealous. He’s angry. He’s frustrated.

“You know what that is.. why do I have to explain it” he’s a grown man, he shouldn’t be jealous of toys. cut to the point, pope.. please.

His grip on her tightens slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “Because I found it in our drawer. And I don’t like the idea of you using something else when I’m gone. When I’m not here to fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

she nods, “I know but I-”

He cuts her off, his hand moving from her mouth to wrap around her throat gently but firmly. “You what? You missed me? You got yourself off thinking about me?” His other hand moves to squeeze her breast roughly.

His eyes narrow as he looks down at her, his thumb pressing slightly against her windpipe. “From now on, it’s my hands or my cock or nothing at all. Got it?” He leans down to whisper in her ear, his voice menacing.

she nods, and taps his wrist to get him to lift his thumb.

He lifts his thumb, watching her throat work as she swallows. A smirk tugs at his lips, but it's cold. “Good. Now open your legs and show me how you used this thing when you should have been waiting for me.”

she grabs the vibrator and opens her legs clicking it on to the second speed and teasing herself through the panties.

His eyes darken with lust as he watches her, his own pants growing tight. He unbuckles his belt. He wants to see more. He wants to be the one making her wet, not some plastic toy. “Fuck... turn it up. Now.”

He takes the vibrator from her, pushing her panties aside and pressing it directly against her clit. He turns it up to the highest setting, watching hungrily as she throws her head back and moans. He presses harder, circling her sensitive bud, making her writhe. “Like that?”

she writhes and shakes and gasps as an orgasm rips through her.

He keeps the vibrator pressed against her clit, not letting up even as she tries to pull away from the intense sensation. “Not done yet baby.” He watches her face contort with pleasure, enjoying her helplessness under his control.

she whines and he pushes her hips down til they stop moving. When they stop, he moves his free hand that’s not holding the vibrator in place to her hair, “feels so-”

He cuts her off, his voice low and commanding. “I know what it feels like. You're gonna cum again for me.” He increases the pressure and speed slightly, knowing she's sensitive and overstimulated. “You gonna be a good girl until I tell you to stop or you can’t anymore okay?”

she nods and does. she cums over and over and over. Her pussy floaded with cream. laying in a big wet spot on the bed. Her thighs trembling.

He watches her pussy gush with each orgasm, the bed becoming soaked with her release. He presses the vibrator harder against her clit, knowing she's on the edge of being too sensitive. He wants to push her over. “Once more baby. Give me one more.”

she whines, “I don’t think I can-”

He cuts her off again, his voice menacing. “You can.” He presses the vibrator harder against her clit, not letting up even as she tries to pull away from the intense sensation. “You gonna come one more time for me until I tell you to stop or you can’t anymore okay?”

she nods and an orgasm rips through her again by surprise.

He watches her face contort with pleasure as the last orgasm hits her. She’s completely out of it. Her pussy is so sensitive she’s almost crying. Her legs are trembling uncontrollably. He finally pulls the vibrator away and tosses it aside. “Fuck... you’re soaked.”

He looks down at her body. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly with each breath she takes. Her inner thighs are coated with her juices. He spreads her legs wider and sees the bedsheets soaked beneath her. He realizes she came at least five times in a row without stopping. “Jesus... baby?”

she hums her eyes closed as her head spins with pleasure.

He can't resist anymore. He spreads her legs wider and buries his face between them, licking up her juices. He's never tasted anything so sweet. He eats her out like a starving man, knowing she's too sensitive to move or protest.“Fuck, I love you so much... baby...”

she whines softly but her body is too weak to move, he praises her for handling the punishment.

He smirks, impressed with her endurance. His voice is soft but dominant. “Good girl... fucking handled all that punishment, didn't you?” He continues licking her gently now, knowing she's been pushed to her limits. “Such a perfect little cunt... look at how swollen you are..."

He kisses her inner thighs gently, then up to her belly, her breasts and neck before taking her mouth in his. She can taste herself on his lips and tongue. He holds her close and runs a hand through her hair. “I'm so proud of you, baby... you took that so well.”

he slides into her weeping, cum soaked cunt with his semi hard cock just to warm it. As a reward for her for the night.

He pushes into her slowly, feeling her wet heat surround him. He doesn't fully thrust, just enough to reward her. “Look at you taking my cock so good...” He kisses her neck gently. “You've been such a good girl, handling all that for me.”

she hums and her eyes close.

He starts to move slowly inside her, enjoying the sensation of her wet, swollen pussy gripping his cock. He keeps his thrusts gentle and steady, knowing she's been thoroughly fucked and pleasured already. “You did so well tonight, baby. You took everything I gave you.”

She falls asleep with pope filling all of her senses. His body around her, his scent in her nose, his breath hot on her skin, his cock buried deep and his arms caging her in. Pope thrusts soft and steady til he falls asleep with his head in the crook of her neck. never pulling out.

[elliespassagerprincess]

Hello darling! Is it alright to ask for an ellie work? Something with just someone overhearing ellie and readers...extracurricular activities and ellie being like:GOOD MORNING :D

Jessie: yes for you maybe? I swear, it cannot be THAT good

Ellie:oh i beg to differ

Reader:JESUS CHRIST

soundproofing not included - ellie williams x reader

hi anon!! i deadass got second hand embarrassment while writing this. I hope you enjoy:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts and ideas:)

warnings: none

summary: The night was unforgettable—Ellie made sure of that. But the morning? Even more memorable… for everyone who heard it. You were just trying to survive breakfast. Ellie, on the other hand, couldn’t stop grinning. And Jesse? Jesse wanted earplugs and a lobotomy.

masterlist

You wake up to sunlight cutting through the blinds, your throat scratchy, body sore in the best way, and Ellie snoring softly into the pillow beside you. Her arm is draped across your waist like a dead weight, and she’s warm, stupidly warm, the kind of warmth that almost convinces you to stay in bed forever—until the mortifying memory of last night punches through the fog of sleep.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, dragging the sheets up to your nose.

Ellie stirs. “Mmm. Morning, baby.”

You don’t respond. You can’t. You’re too busy reliving the exact pitch and volume of your voice when she— nope. Nope nope nope.

Ellie peeks one eye open and grins. “You sound like you’re trying to astral-project out of your body.”

“I want to die,” you mumble.

“Why?” She’s stretching now, clearly pleased with herself, still smug even with bedhead and pillow lines on her face. “Was it not good for you?”

You shoot her a look, and she laughs—open-mouthed and utterly unrepentant. “Oh right,” she teases. “It was that good.”

You don’t get a chance to deny it. Because then—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

You freeze.

“Don’t,” you whisper, eyes wide.

The door creaks open, and Jesse’s voice rings out: “You guys done traumatizing the entire fucking lodge or should I come back after breakfast?”

You bury your face in your hands. “jesus christ.”

Ellie props herself up on her elbows like this is a casual Wednesday morning and not the social equivalent of a nuclear bomb. “Morning, Jesse!” she chirps. “Sleep well?”

“I would’ve,” he says, walking into the room with a mug in hand, “if someone hadn’t been trying to audition for a goddamn opera from down the hall.”

You groan.

Ellie shrugs. “Can you blame her?”

Jesse turns to you. “Yes. Yes, I can blame her. And you. Equally.”

You peek out from under the blanket. “It wasn’t that loud.”

“Oh,” Jesse deadpans. “It was loud enough that Manny went outside and stood in the rain for twenty minutes. Said he needed to ‘recalibrate his spiritual energy.’”

Ellie chuckles. “Tell him I’ll make it up to him.”

Jesse stares. “With what? Noise-canceling headphones?”

You’re about to roll off the bed and onto the floor just to escape your own shame. “Can we never talk about this again?”

“No promises,” Jesse says, turning for the door. “Breakfast is in ten. Try not to make any more... soundtracks before then.”

He’s gone before you can throw a pillow at him.

You flop back onto the mattress and groan into the sheets.

Ellie turns to you, all faux innocence. “So... round two?”

You stare at her. She just wiggles her eyebrows.

“Ellie.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

She leans in, presses a kiss to your jaw, and whispers, “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

Breakfast is halfway done by the time you and Ellie walk in, and Jesse doesn't even try to be subtle.

"Ah, the siren awakens."

You roll your eyes. Ellie just salutes with her fork and steals a sausage from Jesse’s plate without shame.

Manny's there too. He looks at you both, sips his coffee like it's laced with holy water, and mutters, "Sinners."

You glance at Ellie. She's perfectly relaxed, legs sprawled under the table, hoodie half-off her shoulder like she’s trying to look casual when she knows she’s the center of attention.

And that smug smirk? Still there.

So you decide right then and there — she deserves some payback.

You lean in, just enough so only she hears, and murmur, “Didn’t know you got that loud when I bite your ear.”

Ellie chokes on her orange juice.

Jesse looks up. “You good, man?”

Ellie clears her throat. “Yep. Peachy.”

You smile sweetly, spearing a piece of fruit. “Weird. You look flustered.”

She shoots you a look that screams don’t start something you can’t finish — but you just give her an innocent blink.

Later, when everyone’s clearing plates, you brush behind her, just barely pressing into her back, and whisper, “You gonna be loud if I do it again tonight? Or should I bring duct tape?”

Ellie visibly jumps. Jesse raises an eyebrow.

“Something wrong?”

Ellie glares at you, pink creeping up her neck. “Nope.”

You pat her shoulder like you’re proud of her. “Good girl.”

And that does it. Her jaw clenches. Her hand tightens around a fork.

You grin.

Payback achieved.

After everyone filters out, Ellie corners you against the kitchen counter, all intense eyes and clenched teeth.

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

You blink up at her, all innocence and mischief. “A little.”

Ellie leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Keep it up and I’ll make sure they hear you all the way across the field.”

Your breath catches — and her smirk returns like it never left.

You push her away gently, heart pounding, face warm. “You’re evil.”

“And you started it.”

She kisses your cheek like it’s a promise.

[songbirdseung]

𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑻  𝑫𝑶  𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺  2 part one, read here~ Sunghoon tries, really tries, but you're already gone in every way that counts. taglist: @daisyintherainsposts @enpshgirlyy0812 @maewphoria

His eyes dropped to the bag again, and for a second, you saw the panic. The realization that this wasn't a bluff. You weren’t trying to make a point. You weren’t being dramatic.

You were leaving.

“Wait,” he breathed, stepping closer until he was just a few feet from you, hands outstretched like he was afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast. “Please. Just… wait a second. Talk to me.”

You held his gaze, jaw clenched. “I’ve been talking, Sunghoon. For weeks. You just weren’t listening.”

“I’m listening now,” he said, voice almost breaking. “I swear, I’m listening now. Just give me a chance.”

You shook your head slowly. “I gave you a thousand.”

He stepped closer again. “Y/n, baby”

“Don’t call me that.”

He stopped in his tracks. You saw the way it hit him, like a cold splash of water across the face. His hands dropped to his sides, useless. Like he suddenly didn’t know how to reach you anymore.

“I can fix this,” he said, softer this time. “I know I’ve been a dick. I know I’ve pushed you away. But I didn’t think it would come to this. I didn’t think you’d actually-”

“Because you thought I’d always stay,” you cut in, voice trembling. “Didn’t you?”

He blinked, once. Then again.

You grabbed the duffel and hoisted it over your shoulder. Heavy. But not as heavy as the silence between you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, looking down at your feet, “but I can’t keep hurting myself for someone who doesn’t see me anymore.”

Sunghoon moved in front of the door before you could reach it, body blocking your path like that would be enough. His voice cracked when he said, “Y/n, don’t walk away. Not like this.”

“I already did,” you said, stepping around him.

He didn’t stop you. He didn’t grab your wrist. He didn’t beg, not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew.

If he touched you now, you’d break apart.

You walked to the front door, your hand on the knob. You glanced over your shoulder one last time.

He was standing in the hallway, eyes wide, arms limp at his sides. Small. Quiet.

“Goodbye, Sunghoon.”

The door clicked shut behind you.

And just like that, he was alone. Again.

This time, for real.

Sunghoon stood there, frozen, staring at the door like it might open again if he waited long enough. Like maybe you’d come back, say you didn’t mean it, say you were just testing him. He even counted the seconds in his head, just to give you time.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Still nothing.

His legs finally gave out, and he sank to the floor right there in the hallway, back sliding down the wall until he was sitting with his knees drawn up, head in his hands.

He didn’t cry. Not right away. He never cried. But there was this strange, unfamiliar pressure in his chest, building fast like grief with no funeral. Like watching something die without ever getting to say goodbye properly.

The apartment felt too quiet.

Too clean.

Your shoes were gone from the entryway. That sweater you always left on the couch wasn’t draped over the back anymore. Your scent was already fading from the air.

And it hit him all at once:

She’s really gone.

He let out a shaky breath and ran both hands over his face, his hair, like he was trying to physically shake off the reality of it.

Then came the flood.

Every moment. Every conversation. Every soft “I love you” he brushed off too casually. Every night you curled into his side and he stayed quiet instead of saying he missed you too. Every time you asked, “Are we okay?” and he shrugged.

He thought you’d never leave. He was so sure of it. So used to you being the one to reach out first. To fix it. To care enough for the both of you.

But you weren’t coming back this time. He could feel it.

He got up suddenly, like something was choking him. Stormed into the bedroom and yanked open the closet.

Your side now empty.

Drawers? Half full. Your favorite hoodie? Gone.

He opened the nightstand and found one of your earrings, the cheap little star-shaped one you always wore on lazy days. He stared at it in his palm for a long time, lips parted like he wanted to say something out loud but what? Please come back? I didn’t mean it? I love you?

Instead, he slammed the drawer shut and threw the earring across the room.

It hit the wall and bounced onto the floor with a hollow little sound that made his chest ache even more.

He paced the room like an animal. No destination. No thought process. Just raw, frantic motion. He grabbed his phone. Opened your messages. You were still at the top.

He typed something “Come back. I’m sorry. Please.” and stared at the blinking cursor.

Then he deleted it.

Typed again: “I didn’t mean it. I was scared. I miss you.”

Deleted that too.

What was the point? Words hadn’t worked when you were here. Why would they fix anything now?

He sank onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening now, not peaceful. It pressed against his ears, his lungs, his chest.

He didn’t cry. Not yet.

But he felt hollow. Like something important had been scooped out of him, and now he was just sitting in the shell of the life he used to have, back when he had you.

And for the first time in a long, long time… Sunghoon was scared.

Because this wasn’t a fight.

This was the ending.