#and there was nobody to ask for help to either so i was desperate. i was about to have a panic attack

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[glitteronadumpsterfire]

[morning-star-joy]

half asleep, half awake

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader, ASHWAH Universe

Summary: Every time Joel Miller realizes he loves you. Every time he wants to tell you, and the time he does.

Warnings: Brief smut (unprotected p in v, possessiveness, creampie), brief reference to canon-typical violence, longing, Joel can’t communicate his feelings until he can, lots and lots of love. Multiple specific references to the main series. Joel's POV.

A/N: I’ve gotten asked a few times when Joel realizes he loves Reader in this series, and the inspiration hit me the other day to write out my answer to it. Because it could be one scene, but so many before, and so many after when he wants to say it. I miss these two and I love these two and I hope that this little companion piece to the fic makes somebody as happy as I was to write them again!

Wordcount: 1.8k

gorgeous dividers by @saradika

Important: Please read this post and how to help Palestine.

The first time Joel feels it—really feels it, settled into his bones with an undeniable weight, tugging at his heart with an unimaginable lightness—is the night of his 57th birthday.

Months of staying out of his bedroom, of keeping you off his bed, dissolve into a forgotten time the moment you tug the glass of whiskey from his hand.

Move over, you’d said, making room for yourself amongst the place where he laid his head every night. You finish off the drink, take the rest of the poison he’d been diluting his veins with to drown out the pain of all he’d lost, and settle next to him.

He thinks he wants to see you there every night.

You ask him things like his favorite fucking color, things that don’t matter. Not to him, not to you—but you ask anyway. You meet his eyes readily, open and honest and searching his soul for the same old breaks in your own, and he feels it.

You hold his hand, and it fits there. You would fit into his side too, he muses, if he pulled you in.

He wants to pull you in. He wants you in ways nobody’s ever had you—he knows they haven’t, can feel the trepidation in your soul when he looks at you for too long, or lets his touches linger.

You’ll fuck him like there’s no tomorrow, because maybe there isn’t, but you won’t let him hold you tender. Not that he’s tried, but he knows you. Not everything about you, but enough.

And that night, there’s more. More to you, wounds open and pain spilling out, and it looks like his own. It is his own.

I should probably go, you say when it’s become too much, and he feels the urge to ask you to stay.

Joel asks if you want a drink instead, because he’s an idiot, and you say he’s had too much, because you’re right.

He watches from his window as you walk home under the streetlights for once instead of sticking to the darkness, and though he won’t call it what it is, he knows it’s love.

Joel’s loved you longer than that, though. Somehow he knows it, but he can’t place when.

In front of his fireplace, maybe. You’re shivering from god knows how long you had spent in the rain, in the graveyard, in your own mourning. Broken, and he wants to find each piece of you that you’ve lost and put you back together.

Or at least hold you tight enough that you feel okay again. He just knows that he misses your damn smirk, your fucking laugh, and maybe that was love too.

Or maybe it’s when he wants you to be his, his, his only. When he wants to erase the image of that man’s hand on your back with his own on your skin, fingertips digging into your hips and pulling them back to slap against his.

Maybe it’s the skirt of a temptress bunched up around your waist, each desperate thrust of his cock into your needy cunt, dripping and squeezing as you say, moan, scream his name, his, his.

Maybe it’s when you’re half-naked after, admitting you don’t know what the fuck this is, don’t understand what it’s become, and he doesn’t know either. But it’s something delicate. Maybe it’s love then.

Maybe it’s love on the bathroom floor when he realizes you’re the first friend he’s made in years.

Maybe it’s love when he wants to kill every single bastard raider who took you from him, wants to tear them apart with his bare hands and make them bleed and bleed for how much blood they’d taken from you. Precious blood, blood that kept you alive, kept you snarky and angry and wrapped around him each time he took as much pleasure from you as he gave back.

Or it’s Halloween, the bright lights, loud music, and clothes of a bygone era. None of it real until Maria shoves the truth of the matter into his face. She tells him he’s an idiot and just what it all means, what you mean to everyone, and to him, and he finally accepts it.

That’s the first night he has you in his bed. The first night he sees all of you, feels all of you, skin against skin, and you come again, and again, and again. It’s not enough, he needs to keep feeling it, needs you to fall apart in his hands so he can put you back together. A single thread he weaves through you and tugs with each ripple of pleasure, pulling you apart again with each clench of your cunt around his cock, until you pull it from him too.

You fall asleep in a matter of minutes after. Lips parted, and he wished he could watch them swell after a kiss, but you were still holding back.

So he settles for his palm on your cheek, stroking the scar that he still doesn’t know how you got, and feels so much longing, so much love when you sink into his sheets, wrapped up in his favorite color that you knew because you cared to ask. Settled by just the touch of him.

Joel thinks you tried to say something that night, but he’ll never know what. He does know what he wants to say, but he holds back. He’d wait for you, even if you never wanted this too. He’d be whatever you did want him to be.

Time passes in a blur after that, as you tangle yourselves together in ways he never would’ve once thought possible. He doesn’t move, and you lean into him. He doesn’t move, just lets you come to him, too scared you’ll run away again if he holds you too tight, or at all.

Then that night. A meal shared with the family you’d found. He tries to go home alone after, and you chase after him, hold him tight, and he knows. He knows what he feels, and he knows you feel it too.

He doesn’t have to say it, but he wants to. Night after night he wants to, the more that you settle and the more that you’re his. The more that he is yours.

You kiss him, finally—or he kisses you, he can’t remember which. And it says it all.

Still, the words are trapped in his throat as his home truly becomes yours.

His body had already been your home for a year.

His heart, for longer than he would ever know.

But his house. Four walls that didn’t mean anything, not really, not until you lived within them and your sister’s art was on the mantle, your photograph of your parents was in your room that was his room, all your mugs in the kitchen and his coffee was your coffee—he needs to tell you.

He tries to every morning, in his kitchen with your cups of coffee—or tea, with complaints falling from both his mouth and yours if you were out of your preferred beverage. He doesn’t, but he knows you can taste it in the drink he brews for you, perfected to your liking.

He tries to before every patrol, in case somebody takes you from him again. He doesn’t, but he knows you can see it when his eyes seek yours, when he gives you a nod and a lingering gaze before you’re out of the gates and on your way. He knows you can feel it when you both get home, his arms wrapped around you tight and the tension seeping from his body when you’re pressed to him.

He tries to every night, but it’s lost on his tongue every time it slides into your mouth. He knows you know with every kiss, every thrust of his hips from where he’d found a home nestled between your thighs, spilling himself into you as you welcomed him in and made the most beautiful music every time.

You’re comfortable in bed months after the holidays, after that first kiss. Winter is warming into spring, the air feels like starting again, and he tries to tell you.

You’d been reading when he crawled into bed behind you after a shower. His face buried into your neck, each drop of water onto your skin so cold it makes you shiver. But your nails dig into his forearm when it wraps around your waist, the book tumbling from your fingers as you grasp at the nightstand with each drag of his pulsing cock inside your tight heat.

The lamp on the nightstand rattles with each thrust, sending waves of warm light flashing across the room. He’s mesmerized each time it washes across your face, pinched in the familiar climb for pleasure you trusted him to guide you through. He mouths at the scar on your cheek, caressing with lips and tongue as you gasp his name.

You’re so beautiful. His moon, his heart, his home, his everything.

Joel wants to tell you when you come, your eyes fluttering open and seeking his. Seeking that connection between you, as hungry as you are reverent, and he doesn’t deserve it, that undying loyalty. But you think the same for yourself, so what did either of you know, besides what this was.

Love, and he wants to say it. Wants to say he loves you when each flutter of your pussy around him sends him spiraling into an orgasm, a blissful moment of release he now only ever associated with you.

Half asleep after, you’re content, the warm light of the steadied lamp caressing your skin as he cleans it. You know what he wants to say, he thinks. Your eyes are heavy and lazily watching as he kisses the inside of your thigh, peppers his love up your body to your lips.

Half awake, Joel watches you reach for him, pulling him down into a soft caress of your lips against his, with more tenderness either of you ever thought you were capable of.

He won’t say it. You know he won’t.

But you know he will. Someday.

And that one morning amongst many that belong to just you and him, when you ask about other lives, when he realizes you’d want him in more than just this one—in every one—he says it.

You say it back, and everything is right.

When you ask him when he first felt it, he tells you the truth; that he hadn’t felt it just yet on that snowy street a year ago, but a part of him always knew he would love you.

And now, Joel knew he always would.

[diorchids]

teasing, luke castellan.

cw: smut, piv, masturbation, sadism (slightly??), fem!reader, swearing & more

from this ask (i never did it)

luke loves to piss you off. the way you pout or get all pissy about his teasing just makes him elated.

getting to comfort you with his fat cock in your sweet cunt, or it stuffed down your throat.

the cabins were empty while the bonfire at the lake had kept everyone entertained, but your thighs burned when you thought about luke.

after weeks, this was your chance to finally have alone time, rather than fucking deep in the woods.

he’d been touching you all day. rubbing the small of your back, massaging your thighs while you told him about whatever, he loved teasing.

“want you so bad, luke. nobody’s here, l-let’s just do it now,” you whined while he thumbed your puffy clit through your panties, “so fuckin’ good, luke, please.” you whimpered each time his thumb pressed onto your nub.

you were desperate. too much for his liking, though.

he sighed while your eyes ran over his face, “so needy. so, so needy. wan’ my cock, yeah?” he smiled lightly as his fingers curved while he palmed his cock through his jeans.

you nodded while biting your lips, trying not to cry as he moved slowly just to get you bothered.

your core tingled on and on until he finally pulled his cock out, tip dripping with pre-cum as you sat up with anticipation, “please, now, luke. stop bein’ so mean..” you whined pathetically, the wet patch on your panties making his pretty cock twitch.

you just wanted his fat cock, what’s so wrong with that?

you yanked off your wet panties with quickness.

“can't wait any longer?" with one swift motion, he pushed his cock inside you, filling you up completely. “oh, fuck." he groaned as he bottomed out, feeling you tighten around him.

his hand was planted on your stomach while his cock through up in your stomach, making him practically whimper at the sight, “shit—look, baby. stop cryin’, look at me.” his words made you clench his fat cock so perfectly, practically milking him.

you didn’t stop crying.

his other hand gripped either side of your cheeks, while your lips squished into the cutest little shape. he loved this look on you, kissing you harshly while his tongue roamed your whole mouth filthily.

“luke, keep goin’, s-so good. cock feels so good in my tummy, baby..” you tapered off because his cock dumbing you down completely.

he looked down, watching his cock disappear into your tight cunt. “fuck, you're so tight." he groaned.

your lips quivered with each thrust given to you, cervix almost being beaten up if he went any deeper.

“kiss? want me to kiss you, yeah?” you nodded dumbly while your cunt spat out juices to compensate for the overstretching.

your eyes rolled out salty tears that luke smeared all over your lips, making you taste what he was doing to you. your puffy lips looked so pretty.

your core tightened pathetically, clenching his cock perfectly.

he pulled out of you. your gaped cunt clenched around nothing when you moaned like a whore.

“luke? no, no, no, please, luke, needa cum!” you whined helplessly while he got up to put his jeans back on. he shook his head incessantly, carrying on with his dressing.

his cock was still obviously hard underneath his jeans, fat bulge making you whimper softly.

he tsked while you silently begged, “look at you—can’t live without my cock,” he teased you sadistically, watching you beg and get all pissy about him pulling out.

you followed him around camp with a stick up your ass, acting like a brat because you couldn’t get what you want.

he couldn’t help but laugh at you shouting at him and pushing him while you were dead serious.

your cunt still ached at the thought of him pounding it relentlessly, walls getting practically bruised from the constant abuse of them.

“it’s not fucking funny, luke. i’m serious!” you’d managed to grab his arm, he kept walking away and chuckling at the sight of you being this angry over him doing so small.

you were serious, though. very serious. you didn’t find anything funny, he ripped your orgasm from your fingertips after dangling it in your face like a carrot on a stick.

you jerked him off while he whimpered pathetically in your ear just half an hour later.

“f-fuck, feels so—good. love you so much, sooo good t’ me,” he bucked his hips up into your hand pitifully.

it wasn’t so funny when you let go of his cock, resulting in him begging you to make him cum for hours.

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [4] (myg)

title: and the hits keep coming 2.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut summary: just when you thought yoongi couldn't surprise you anymore, it happens again. warnings: [other parts should be read before this one] a lot more feelings of insecurity and sad vibes, yoongi stepping over oc's boundaries, oc being disrespected yet again (nothing new nothing changed same old shit same old fucking shit)

You were tempted to ignore him, but with Nao involved, you couldn’t avoid dealing with him.

“You should go eat. I can just talk to him for you…?” Taehyung suggests as he watches you contemplate your next move.

That would be great help to you. While you couldn’t afford to avoid him forever, maybe a few days wouldn’t hurt. So, with an overwhelming and shaky sigh, you passed the phone to him.

He hurriedly motions for you to leave the room. And you reluctantly do so.

Taehyung scrunches his nose and shuts the door in your face.

Fighting the urge to hold a glass against the door, you forced yourself to wait in the kitchen till he was done.

On the other side of the door, Taehyung angrily exhales, taking his own sweet time to answer your phone. Then the call drops.

Not even a second later, the loud ringtone fills the room once again. It reeks of desperation.

“Hello?”

No response.

He tries again, “Hello?”

“…Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

After another pause, the voice scoffs, “Figures.”

A bit taken aback, Taehyung bit his tongue, “What do you want?”

Taehyung hears nothing back. “Yoongi? Why’d you call?”

“I called _____, not you.”

“Well, she can’t talk now.”

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to bite back. “This has nothing to do with you, Tae. I just need to talk to her.”

“You can’t. You have me instead. What more do you have to say?”

There’s yet another long pause.

“How is she?”

Taehyung almost laughs in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. How do you think, Yoongi? Is the future Mrs. Min okay with you asking about your ex?”  

“Careful, Taehyung-”

“Does everyone else know already?”  

“Of course not, I went straight to _____’s. And nobody can know about it either. We’re not ready. I just…”

Taehyung grew more confused the longer Yoongi took to speak.

“I need to talk to her, Taehyung. I really… I messed up.”

“Did something more happen?”

Another pause.

“No. I just had to check in… Can I come by tomorrow? I still need to drop Mimi off.”

“Uh… right, about that. Listen…” Taehyung thinks for a second, “I think, maybe it’d be better if you just let her breathe for a moment. And I’ll come get Naomi.”

Another pause.

“Did she ask for that?”

Taehyung had half a mind to lie about it but he refrained, deciding that the truth would hurt him more. “You know she’d never. She’s too… stupid-” Stupidly in love with you. “-and you need to stop taking advantage of her; you need to hold back, Yoongi. You can’t go running to her for everything anymore.”

Yoongi knew he was in the wrong, but was annoyed that Taehyung was the one to tell him that.

Still a little in denial, he childishly spits, “Fine, bye. Get here before 7.”

Taehyung wanted to retaliate but he was immediately met with a little digital sound indicating that Yoongi had hung up on him.

A little bemused, Taehyung pulls your purple Samsung away from his ear and stares at it--- “So fucking typical.”

As Taehyung steps out of your room, he almost bulldozes you down.

“Jesus, _____.” Frowning, he asks, “Were you eavesdropping?”

You shook your head and wordlessly waved a jar of tiramisu in front of his nose.

Taehyung eyes you suspiciously, “I’m going to pick Naomi up tomorrow.”

When he says that, your face visibly drops. You didn’t actually expect Yoongi to pull away so fast. Was his girlfriend already keeping him from you now? You almost wanted to smack yourself in the head for thinking like you owned him.

Taehyung debates on whether he should elaborate or wait to see if you ask about it.

But you just gently and nonchalantly nod, “Right, of course. That’s okay. Please bring her here by 7.”

“He didn’t ask for this!” Taehyung blurts.

Your expression doesn’t change.

A little intimidated, he looked straight at his feet and explained, “I offered to pick her up. But Yoongi called because he wanted to talk to you. I just told him that I thought it was a bad idea.”

When he doesn’t hear you react, he slowly looks up at you, suddenly feeling miniscule. And he swore he could see steam coming out of your ears.

Taking a deep breath, you stare into his eyes, “You need to stop overstepping. You’ve done it once already. You need to stop.”

He almost felt the heat radiating from you.  

Almost as if he didn’t actually expect you to react so negatively, he asks, “_____... You’re really mad about this?”

You slam your jar on the coffee table and storm off into the kitchen.

“The first time you meddled, Yoongi left me. The second time, he happened to meet his future wife. What’s it going to be now?”

Taehyung was stunned, “Are you kidding me? Are you just mad that I’m looking out for you in ways you yourself wouldn’t or do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you planned it all,” you glare at him accusingly.

Too stunned to digest what you accused him of, his eyes just widened in bewilderment. “_____. I- Planned what, _____?”

You tip your head forward in mockery, “Planned what? Take a guess.”

The room fills with silence once more.

Taehyung shook his head, “I’m going to ignore all of that. And fine, I’ll ask him to call you back then.”

“No!” – “No?” He parrots.

“I don’t want him to call me.” You almost whine. You don’t even know what you truly want. (Actually, you do.)

“Okay.” Taehyung nodded reassuringly, his hands grasping at your elbows, “He won’t. I’ll bring Naomi back tomorrow. Okay?” But you shook your head obstinately, “No, I want her back now.”

“Right now?” - “Now.”

“_____...” He looked at the grandfather clock on your wall.

Cringing a little, Taehyung attempts to reason with you, “_____, it’s Yoongi’s turn to have her.”

“Yeah, that’s a spoken agreement, not a written and notarized thing. He can’t stop me from wanting to spend time with my daughter.” You’re sure this is evil _____ speaking and it’s as if you can’t control her.  

Taehyung nervously cracks his knuckles. He doesn’t have a counter argument. You are Naomi’s mother and arguably the primary caretaker after all. He figures he owes you this.

“So, will you get her back for me?” You weren’t really giving him an option.

Taehyung knew your word was final. Either way, he wouldn’t police you on being a mother. “Let me give Yoongi a call, okay?”

“You do that. I’ll make you something to eat before you go!” You smile sweetly.

Not quite sure of your strategy here, all you knew was that you wanted your daughter with you. It was your way of gaining some control back in your life. You don’t have it in you to think of whether or not this was ethical or right. You just did not want to spiral.

From the kitchen, you could faintly hear Taehyung on the phone.

You take note of his assertiveness and slap some extra mortadella on his sandwich. He deserved it for putting up with you. You couldn’t think of anyone else who’d still be with you and handle your mood swings.

Was that normal or just sad? You do not want to think.

In your mind, you were satisfied in life. Sometimes you regret bringing up marriage with Yoongi. Maybe if you hadn’t forced the idea on him, you could’ve been in Hyejin’s place now.

The fact that you’re even in this position is ridiculous. Sooner or later you’d have to face… everything. The reason they’re getting married and you aren’t. The fact that they might have Nao be a part of their wedding and you’d just have to smile and nod, that Nao may have another parental figure, that you won’t be Yoongi’s bride or a bride at all, ever, and that maybe you’ve lost Yoongi’s companionship forever.

You had to step out for a bit.

Right at that moment, Taehyung emerges from the living room into the kitchen.

Sighing, he starts, “So, he agreed. He wants to know if everything’s okay. Of course, I know it isn’t but I told him he had nothing to worry about. And he didn’t buy it.” –

You push the little ceramic plate towards him, “Eat your sandwich.”

Taking a large bite out of it, Taehyung thanks you and adds, “--- by the way, your food is on the dining table, I didn’t actually give it away, you know?”

“I saw it,” you confirmed, “Jus’ not hungry.”

Quickly changing the topic back to Nao, you ask, “So, can Nao be back now or…?”

“Yeah. Here’s the thing…” He stalled. “Nao’s coming now.”

A gulp. You think he’s swallowing his food.

“Yoongi’s coming with.”

‘Why do you always bring me bad news?’ is what you wanted to ask. Instead, you squeak out a “When?”

“Twenty minutes? Told me Nao was already dolled up or something.” He finishes his sandwich and washes the plate.

In a soothing tone, Taehyung proposes, “Why don’t you head down to the pâtisserie? I’ll receive them. You don’t have to worry about seeing him, okay?”

You appreciated his offer but chose to decline it, “No. It’s okay. I need to tidy up anyway,” – “_____, I’ll do it for you. I know how you like it. Go take a walk or grab a sweet treat or something, yes?”

“No, it’ll take too long for you to do it by yourself. You can help me though. Just do my bed, please?” You’re already walking off.

Taehyung follows you into your room but doesn’t have a chance to stop you, you’re already stripping down and into your ‘serious cleaning’ clothes. It’s just an old dress and rubber gloves.

Sometimes, Taehyung mourns what you and Yoongi could have been. You’re perfect for each other. The two of you just needed to work on your communication a little. He’s thinking about how much of you Yoongi’s missing out on and can’t help but scoff. In pop culture terms, he really fumbled you.

Suddenly you gasp, “Did you watch me change?” Aimed at the man.

“No!” Vehemently shaking his head, he repeats, “Not intentionally! I was zoned out!”

“Wow, calm down, I don’t mind, you know that.” You smile sweetly once again.

Grabbing a pillow, he sighs. Sometimes, he thinks you toy with him on purpose. He really can’t tell.

 ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Forty minutes go by yet there has been no sign of Nao or Yoongi. No calls or messages, no updates whatsoever.

You ought to get Nao a little phone for herself. How had you not thought of this before? It’ll probably be a lot more useful now.

You were nervously readjusting the doilies in a circle over and over again when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Taehyung’s resting figure suddenly snapped upright, “I’ll get it.”

However, you were closer to the door and got to it before he could take two steps.

When you open the door, you wished Taehyung would’ve beaten you to it. You wish you had taken that walk or chosen to buy yourself a sweet drink; because you couldn’t even have guessed what was waiting for you on the other side of the door.

Nothing could have prepared you to see your ex-boyfriend with his current girlfriend and your daughter. Together. All of them. Holding hands. In front of you for the very first time. All of them.

While Yoongi had the decency of looking literally anywhere but in your eyes, you couldn’t say the same about his girlfriend. Fiancée.

Hyejin, placed between your daughter and your ex, exhaled a dreamy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding, _____! Nao-chan wanted to show you our matching hairstyle!”

Bewildered and wordless, all you could do was smile and nod. You mechanically turn your head to look at Nao, who sported a baby pink lock of hair amongst her regular, natural hair identical to Hyejin’s.

You nodded and stepped aside, briefly bumping into Taehyung who looked just as uncomfortable as Yoongi, making space for the lovely family to step into your home. Your eyes were glued to your feet.

Just like always, before you take a drastic step, your daughter grounds you as she runs to you and clings to your lower half. Although, the pink strands of hair brushing against you almost make you lose it all. Almost.

Following which Taehyung breaks the tension by awkwardly, yet warmly greeting the pair, taking a load off of you.

You needed to lie down.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ how to disappear completely by radiohead ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: sorry! it probably gets better! i think this one has a few edits pending but i couldn't waitttt

[miguel-ohara-eater]

Practice

——————————

(summary: Miguel was helping you practice capturing anomolies, but he was in his rut and could smell that you were ovulating.)

CW: no actual sex this time, dry humping, grinding, biting, play fighting, licking, cumming in clothes, a little bit of public stuff ig, sniffing.

——————————

Miguel swung his fist right in front of your face, his knuckle brushing across your nose as you ducked last second.

you and Miguel were practicing, and he was training you for the anomalies.

"hey! were training not trying to kill eachother!" you say, tackling him and putting him in a headlock.

"you think the anomalies are gonna give you slack??" he asks, throwing you over his shoulder and pinning you down.

you grumbled, lifting up your knee and trying to push him off.

the second you lifted your leg his pupils dilated, the scent of the slick in between your legs hit his nose.

you would be lying if you said him on top of you wasn't hot, but you were ovulating anyways and he was in heat.

his breath got weird, and he immediately got off of you and you sat up.

"Miguel?...you good?" you ask, looking at him and he shakes his head.

"You're ovulating aren't you." he says, staring into your soul.

your eyes widen and you sit on your knees. "I um-... yeah? why does that even matter?"

you were confused, and a little surprised how he'd guessed that.

he looked around at the two other recruits minding their business on the other side of the training room. he leaned over, grabbing your wrist and he stood up.

"let's go." he demanded, and you decided just to follow him.

he led you into Sector 4, down the hall of his lab and he pressed a couple buttons on his watch.

"LYLA! make sure nobody gets in here." he barked into his watch, dragging you onto his platform.

"yes Miguel." Lyla said, blocking the elevators and doors from others access.

he pushed you down onto the floor, getting on top of you in between your legs and he pinned you down

"I could SMELL you." he hissed, his eyes red.

you just looked up at him, more aroused than ever to be completely honest. he leaned his head down, burying his nose into the crook of your neck and he sniffed you.

after a couple seconds he pressed his obvious boner into your clothed pussy, looking at your flushed face.

"you like this don't you?" he teased, and you couldn't lie because you knew he'd be able to smell it on you.

you looked away, opening your mouth to say something but you just nodded.

"fine. maybe I do. but you can't blame me!" you say, side eyeing him.

"can I?" he asked, not really asking to he honest because either way he was going to.

you thought for a second, then nodded. "please?"

he slowly moved his hips, his growing boner underneath his suit rubbing against your pussy underneath yours.

he grunted, biting your neck and his hands grabbed at your breasts, rubbing over the fabric covering your nipples.

you held in your moans, feeling like it'd be pathetic to moan when all he was doing was dry-humping you.

he kept going, his crotch rubbing against yours and his pants and grunts filling your ears.

"k-keep going." you say, trying to keep your voice steady and he starts humping you faster, like a horny dog in heat.

his face was flushed, his cock twitching in his pants and his eyebrows scrunched together.

"is it bad I'm close?" you whimper, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

he shakes his head, not even saying anything and focusing on your pussy.

your hole was clenching around nothing, desperate for penetration.

you slowly feel the knot build, and before you know it you both are cumming inside your spidersuits.

Miguel whimpers, biting down on your shoulder and your back arches off of the ground.

once the orgasm passes, your suit is drenched and so is his.

you look up at him as he gets one last sniff, before sitting up.

"next time can you just fuck me?" you ask boldly

he raises an eyebrow, thinks for a second, then shrugs.

"sure. tomorrow?"

"tomorrow."

——————————

this one's shorter idk

but idea from @miguel-ohara-lover I think.

I got kinda lazy on this one.

——————————

[lotus-slumbers]

Yandere batfamily x addict reader?

Would they exploit and manipulate the reader, making em solely dependent on the family for their fix — either to originally trap them at the manor or continuing to supply em forever, because it makes the reader dependant on them, acting all cuddly and desperate. or would they reform and sober up the reader? Have em go through a whole rehabilitation process style.

Gotham’s not safe for the poor reader, imagine all the villains who’d kill em for the drugs they’re so dependent on? But it’s okay! Because the Wayne’s will protect em. Whether the reader wants them to or not isn’t up for debate.

If you’re uncomfortable with this topic I totally understand. Just send me a message to say pls??

Yandere! Batfam x Addict! Reader Headcannons

Tw: addiction, substance abuse, etc.

— If there was anything that could accelerate the Batfam abducting adopting their darling sooner, this would be it.

— In their eyes, this is a type of abuse. Abuse from all of those around you and nobody is safe from the pointing of their accusatory finger. Not even those people who truly are innocent and have tried to help.

— You may notice people around you drawing away, avoiding you. Maybe some friends who you used to talk with who shared the same addiction, others a dealer who supplied you.

— Though, you may not notice this at all because they'll work quick.

— The term "self-harm" is thrown around once while discussing your habitual substance abuse and that's it. That's all it takes to make them snap and agree unanimously that, yes, this is for the best. Today is the day, if they have everything completely set up for you or not.

— Within twenty-four hours, you'll be in the manor with your family. Right where you belong.

— Rich people get same-day delivery!! Woohoo!! 🙌 🚚

— Of course, that isn't the only motivator for the Wayne's to take you. As much as it pains them to see you suffering at your own hands, they understand just how well the scum of Gotham can and will hurt you.

— They'll take care of the vermin that supplied and enabled you all the same. They have a duty to Gotham, it was going to happen eventually, just now there might be a little bit more passion to it... They won't tell you about it, though.

— The Batfam would most definitely attempt to nip the problem in the bud, forcing you to go cold turkey immediately.

— Bruce will have everything thought out. He's spent countless hours since learning about your issues researching in depth everything he could possibly need to know.

— They have patches at the ready for you when you start to feel the effects of withdrawal. They have stress balls and plenty of activities to try and keep your mind elsewhere and on other things.

— And eyes on you, always.

— And a bracelet, pressed snuggly against your skin and seemingly impossible to get off, to monitor your health. Reports directly at their fingertips, whenever they want it.

— They want you in the best condition they can have you. Not just physically, but mentally too. Bruce would most likely like to have one-on-one conversations with you, about life before, your transitioning here, and, of course, how you are doing with withdrawal.

— If he thinks you're not doing a good enough job with him, he can always pay for the best help available. With his amount of money, nobody has to know either... So don't think of asking them to help you. You won't be believed or they simply won't do it.

— Bruce, Dick, and Jason would probably be the worse about lecturing you on it. Mention withdrawal to them or any desire to return to what you once had... Oh boy, good luck.

— Bruce would go on and on about your health. How he loves you. Wants what is best for you, even if you cannot see it. A deep look of disappointment and concern behind his eyes. He won't school it, he wants to to see it. Feel it and stop. Grow into the person he knows you can be, with their help. Let him protect you.

— Dick is fairly similar to Bruce in this regard, although he is a little more relaxed, trying to be on your level while also acting as your "older brother," something he takes much pride in. He'll probably baby you more than the others, offering to help find alternatives and promise rewards for your efforts (not that you have much of a choice in the matter).

— Jason, though? Jason Todd, the little boy who grew up on the streets? Watch the lives of those he loved so much be ruined and so cruelly snatched away by these exact things? No way. It hits way too close to home, especially since it's you.

— He's understanding towards you so long as you don't push too far. One mention of wanting it and he's on your ass, telling you off about it. He'll help with withdrawal. He'll help you get over it, be a shoulder to lean on and a friend to laugh with, but, God, don't you dare threaten him like that ever again.

— Tim helps with Bruce and his plans most of all, going through all the little details to help plan out the smoothest way to go about this.

— Damian is pissed that you would even ever do any of this in the first place, beating you in his weakest, more frustrated moments but this reaffirms to him that you need him.

— Really, this reaffirms all of them that, despite any guilt, they may feel for the "crimes" they committed for you, it was the right choice. That their darling needed them, desperately.

— They'll never give up on you, not in your darkest moments or theirs. They love you, through and through, and would give the world to you if only you asked.

— But they'd never, ever let you do that to yourself. Your last high was the last time you would ever, ever be.

— They know they could supply you, that it could be an easy way to control you and gain your love. Love that they are so desperately longing for, wanting to be returned, but they won't do it. They can't do that. Not to you of all people.

— It goes against their very nature, as it would harm you.

— You'll learn to love them eventually. It isn't like there is a real rush. You're not going anywhere at all. They'll take the long, high road.

— Batfam will protect you to their last breath and love you through and through. You don't need to do a thing.

— The only reason they would ever supply you is if they truly had no other options. If you were super-powered in a way they could not find a way to contain or around people they couldn't take you away from. Which is a highly unlikely possibility.

💜 A/n: Sorry that this took me so long to get to. Hopefully, it's not too typo-ridden and you enjoy it!

This is not meant to glorify any type of substance abuse or any type of addiction. This was my first time writing for such so please, if I made a mistake in my handling of the subject, reach out and let me know!

For substance abuse treatment and mental health referrals, contact the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration's (SAMHSA) National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

You are loved beyond measure.

[milktei]

Hold me Tight

Kamisato Ayato x fem!wife!Reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage au, idk if it can be called a slow burn but that’s what I’m calling it, fluff, smidge of angst.

Warnings: unconventional relationship, Reader is described to have long hair that is brushed through. not edited

Requests: Open

a/n: another one out! :o Had to indulge myself a little bit before getting back to requests. arranged marriage au’s are my guilty pleasure and i just felt like writing for genshin again. Hair brushing and physical affection is also just such a big thing for me I had to write it. So if it isn’t obvious i wrote this mostly for selfish reasons and that is the reason why it may be sort of all over the place lol. I hope it’s enjoyable either way!

A hug is all you longed for really. For someone to wrap warm arms around you and let you completely melt into them.

Being married it should be an easy ask

How unfortunate it is for you that your husband wants nothing to do with you.

Although the more you thought about it, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. He did agree to the marriage hadn’t he?

He was the head of his clan, the Yashiro commissioner. Throughout the entirety of the process of arranging your marriage, Kamisato Ayato had every right, and more than enough chances to stop it from going through.

He had nothing to lose if he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage, which was an excuse many citizens of Inazuma had heard over the years.

He really had nothing to gain from it either.

It confused you from the day the elders of your clan elatedly told you that by some insane amount of luck, the Kamisato Ayato had accepted “your” marriage proposal that had been sent in as almost an obligation.

There was no harm in trying and you were now living proof of that.

Why you? out of all the suitors he definitely had, he had chosen you. While your clan was one of the head producers of tea leaves in the country, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around his acceptance, it was not like the Kamisato’s needed the tea, they could have afforded it anyways.

There was no political gain for him either as he was already a tri-commissioner, you weren’t even in line to become heir! Your uncle was the head of the clan and your cousins would follow in his footsteps.

The gossip about you flew all over inazuma like a storm cloud, and you heard it all, people weren’t always subtle in their curiosity or distaste in you after all.

Some of the talk was harsh and negative, and yet you couldn’t help but partially agree with what some people were saying about you.

You were a nobody as far as nobility went. The only reason you could think of as to why Ayato chose you, was likely to reduce the amount of mail that he got, as the marriage proposals had virtually stopped after your wedding. Aside from some particularly desperate people.

Perhaps you really were the best candidate for him. You weren’t a prominent figure in the public eye, you weren’t after the Kamisato’s fame and fortune, and you weren’t the type of person to fawn over your husband 24/7 and demand he shower you in riches and attention.

Although you almost wish that you were. Maybe then you wouldn’t be longing for a hug as badly as you currently were.

While it was true that being married to Ayato meant that you had nearly everything you could ask for at your fingertips, and that it was rare for you to be denied anything—not like you asked for much anyways—the one thing you could not ask for, was your husband’s affection. How ironic. the one person you spewed rehearsed vows to about being his rock and what not, was the one person you could not get an ounce of love or affection from.

Of course you had never really had the chance to try at this point, as despite being married for 6 months already, you can count the amount of times you had a full conversation with the man on one hand.

“I hope that you can find it in you to excuse my lord. He is a very busy man.” Thoma had told you the day you had moved in and your husband was no where to be seen. The look he gave you the mixture of empathy and a wince.

That was the day reality set in. He looked at you kindly on the day you got married. Soft smiles graced both of your features during the ceremony, and you two spoke amicably during the extravagant reception. But this was an arranged marriage, a contract more than a relationship, and you both had duties to fulfill.

A smile that had been drilled into you since your etiquette classes from your youth crossed your face “There’s no need to worry about me Thoma, I understand.”

So you had to learn to get used to being alone in an estate bustling with people. You opened your wedding gifts alone, sorted them accordingly and even sent out an astonishing amount of individual thank you cards to all the guests you had at your wedding.

You often ate alone, save for the times Ayaka and Thoma had time to accompany you. Aside from being reached out to for second opinions or approval you weren’t given a formal job on the estate. Instead you were given an allowance, and were free to spend your days doing whatever you wanted, so long as the Kamisato name was protected.

Yes that was another thing you had to get used to, “Kamisato y/n”, “My lady Kamisato.” Hearing the latter was especially hard, that title felt as if it was reserved only for your sister-in-law, she definitely represented it with more grace than you thought you were ever capable of.

The name and all the responsibilities it came with weighed down on your shoulders unlike anything you had every experienced prior, and here you pushed against it alone. Forced to go through the transition into married life without the other half of the partnership to support you.

That led you to your predicament now. You were coming to the realization that you were horribly touch starved.

It was even worse on cold windy days, or when it rained. All it did was remind you about how your late parents would use those days to curl up with you, a warm blanket, and a book to laze the day away and wish for nicer weather the next so that you could go out on a picnic.

you longed for those days of warmth and love again. Your family had been quite affectionate with one another. While Ayaka would come and spend time with you, treating you like an older sibling. Nothing could reach the craving deep within you.

You sighed to yourself as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of people who passed and recognized who you were.

Or rather who you were married to.

“My lady Kamisato!” greeted the Yae publishing house worker. “You’ve come at a great time, the new volume of your favourite series has just released.”

The worker handed you the book in question and you couldn’t help the excitement that rose within you as you quickly flipped through “I was hoping that I’d be able to pick something up today. I’ve been needing more things to do when the weather doesn’t permit me to go outside. Any other recommendations?”

The worker smiled at you sweetly and handed you another book “Surely Lord Ayato, is able to keep you from getting too bored at the estate my lady?”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly, you couldn’t let it drop in front of the worker, the last thing you wanted was for anymore rumours to spread. You pretended to read the synopsis of the book that was handed to you. “Yes of course, but there are still times where he is not available. My husband is a very busy man.”

My husband, you didn’t think you would ever get used to referring to him as that. He felt like nothing more than a stranger who’s house you happened to live in, who you shared a family name with, who would grace you with a soft smile and a nod as you passed each other at the estate each making your ways to your separate rooms.

A gust of wind blew through the streets and both you and the worker shivered. You looked at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds rolling in, you flinched as a singular rain drop landed on your cheek.

The worker also looked up “it really is rainy season isn’t it?” they looked to you “I would recommend you head home soon my lady, looks like it’s gonna come down any minute now and you’ve got a long walk back to the Kamisato estate”

You sighed, “what a shame, I was hoping to run a couple more errands today.” you payed for both books and placed them into your bag with a smile “thank you for the advice I’ll head out now.”

You walked away from the shop in the direction of the estate, waving behind you as the worker told you to stay safe.

———

Perhaps you should have stayed in town.

You come to this realization as you’re halfway to the estate. Komore tea house would have been much nicer than the weather you were experiencing currently.

The singular raindrop you had felt earlier had slowly progressed into a little more than a drizzle and you groaned to yourself as your clothing grew heavier as it absorbed more and more water.

You should have grabbed your umbrella

It was practically pouring by the time you had gotten to the estate, the trees of Chinju forest providing surprisingly little shelter against the rain.

Quickly, you rushed under the cover of the roof of the estate and sighed in relief once you weren’t being pelted by water. You looked down at you clothes and cringed at the water dripping from the fabric and your hair onto the dark wood

Wringing out what you could beforehand, you opened the front doors of the estate as quietly as you could, albeit in vain as Thoma and your husband were having a discussion right at the entrance.

Both men turned to look at you as the door closed and you could only stare back awkwardly as the sound of water dripping from you clothes and hair, along with your shivering filled the room.

Thoma was the first to break the silence and began fussing over you not unlike a mother hen.

“My lady you’re soaking wet! You’re going to get sick! I’ll have the maids draw a bath for you. Please allow me to grab your belongings. I’ll have tea ready for you once you’re done.

Before you knew it, you were standing in your bathroom with a steaming tub waiting for you. Still bewildered at what had transpired moments before.

Still, Thoma and his efforts were never unwelcome as the bath was exactly what you needed.

You took your time in the bath, taking in the scent of the flowers and oils put in by the maids, appreciating how well the water warmed your once cold body.

Once finished, you were quick to dry off and get dressed, still towel drying your hair as you entered your room.

As promised, Thoma had left a tea set on the table in your room with a container holding tea leaves, knowing you liked to brew it yourself.

The only thing out of place was an extra tea cup.

As if on cue, the door to your room was gently slid open and your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of pale blue hair.

“My lord!” you greeted, the words leaving you mouth before you could even try to stop them.

Ayato paused as the two of you made eye contact, it was almost as if he was surprised himself that you were in your own room.

Ayato was the first to regain his composure after clearing his throat. “Majority of my plans for today have been cancelled due to the weather, I was hoping you could allow me to join you for a bit.”

Your head was spinning, not able to wrap itself around the fact that your husband was in your room and actively trying to spend time with you.

“Of course if that’s how you wish to spend your free time my lord.” you stammered, part of you still believing that this was some sort of dream.

A small shiver ran down your spine and you were reminded of the damp hair that ran down your back. You looked to the vanity in your room and then back at your husband.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to fix my hair situation beforehand.”

“Of course y/n there’s no need to worry, it’s just me.”

That was precisely why you were panicking on the inside at that moment. It was only the man who was so busy, that his presence in the house on a daily basis resembled that of a gust of wind.

You sat down at you vanity and picked up one of your combs, beginning the task of untangling the mess you had created both in the rain and bath.

You nearly groaned out loud to yourself, you had kept your hair long to be able to use the multitude of flamboyant hair accessories you had acquired, but brushing it had always been your least favourite part of the entire process.

A awkward cough caused you to look at the man in your room.

“if you are comfortable with it…I could help you brush your hair.”

You stared in shock at the man in front of you. His face was genuine but you could tell by the reddening of his ears that he was flustered, the most you had ever seen from him.

The combination of being a witness to such a rare site and the fact that you were still in shock that he was there in the first place, had you speaking without much thought.

“That would be very helpful my lord, thank you.”

The surprise on his face was visible You could only hope that your whirlwind of emotions wasn’t as obvious.

Still, not one to go back on his word, Ayato gently took the comb from your outstretched hand and began to work. His powerful presence behind you almost causing you to curl in on yourself.

He was gentle, his hands warm as they followed your comb, a warm feeling spread throughout you chest as he so carefully detangled your hair, taking his time.

You hoped that he wouldn’t be able notice through your reflection just how flustered you were at this moment. Your face was hot, your breathing was slightly rapid and you couldn’t find it in yourself to look up at the mirror in fear that your eyes would connect.

Yet this moment felt so intimate, so tender and domestic. You could almost believe that you two were much closer than you really were.

A soft chuckle broke you from your thoughts.

“This brings me back.” Ayato sighed wistfully, “when we were younger, Ayaka would let me do this for her. Though she seemed less than impressed when I would try different styles on her. I wonder if she would trust me with her hair again after all this time.”

You smiled down at your fidgeting hands “I’m sure she would if you promised no more experiments my lord.”

Ayato hummed in contemplation “I suppose you may be right, but at the same time maybe I won’t need to ask her if I already have yours within reach.” He leaned closer to your ear, “After all, am I wrong to assume that you are enjoying this my dear wife?”

Your face felt like it was on fire, you had never heard him call you that to your face before. You could feel the smug smile that was currently gracing his features as he leaned back and continued his actions.

“Well?” He urged after a moment

“No you are not wrong to assume that my lord.” You managed to stammer out. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap as you forced yourself to say the truth, knowing well that he would be able to see through any lie.

He sighed. “Please y/n I think we’re at a point where we can drop the formalities.”

Your eyes widened at his words and you spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“Are we really?”

His hand that was holding the brush froze mid stroke, the room was suddenly filled with a chilled silence and you cringed at the amount of malice an anger that you managed to fit into one simple question.

This was no way to talk to the man you were married to.

“Forgive me my… Ayato. I did not mean to sound so harsh I just-“

“No no there’s no need to apologize.” ayato assured. He raked a hand through your hair and chuckled bitterly, “I supposed it is my fault that you feel this way about our…situation

You opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out. What he said wasn’t a lie to make you feel better for snapping at him. It was entirely the truth and you were grateful that he understood where you were coming from.

“Finished.” He stated softly before placing the comb back on your vanity. “I hope that I haven’t worn out my welcome.”

You paused for a moment, thinking about the situation you found yourself in, while wanting to get yourself out of the awkward moment, you knew that a chance to spend time with him again would be rare.

“You haven’t, don’t worry,” you stated as you slowly rose from your seat. Still refusing to look up at him you gestured to the low table where the tea set sat, “Please have a seat, I’ll brew the tea for us.”

It was quiet as you worked, the only sounds in the room being the clink of tea set, and the crinkle of tatami mats. You thanked Thoma in your mind when you saw that he had prepared leaves that were better steeped in lower temperatures, as the water had cooled down since he first boiled it.

“We’ll have to wait a couple minutes.” You said as you closed the lid of the teapot. Ayato nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.

“I don’t want to use me being busy as an excuse.” Ayato suddenly blurted out.

You finally look up at him in surprise “Pardon?”

Ayato cleared his throat “My apologies. It’s just that I know that everyone has been using me being busy to excuse me for being absent in this relationship. While I know that lin its simplest terms, what we have between us is a contract, part of me still hoped that I would be able to get to know you well and we could be much more than strangers. There are many times where I could have put my work aside and spent more time with you, but I for some reason I never found myself taking those opportunities.”

He looked almost guilty as he continued. “Now here I am, months later knowing next to nothing about you, and on top of that I expected you to be comfortable with speaking casually around me when we have barely even spoken before.

You pondered to yourself as you poured tea into his cup “Well if it makes you feel any better,” you poured more into your own “I also know next to nothing about you.”

“Unfortunately that only seems to add salt to the wounds my dear.” Ayato grumbled.

Your eyes widened at the pet name and you quickly lifted your teacup to your face to hide your embarrassment.

Ayato followed suit and hummed in satisfaction as he drank. “Well I do know one thing now. My wife is excellent at brewing tea. It must run in your family’s genes.”

You waved him off “it’s just something that comes with experience, my uncle is the true master.”

“I also now know that my wife finds it hard to accept compliments.”

“Hey!”

Ayato smiled at you teasingly as you glared at him, though there was no anger behind it.

“Well now that’s unfair,” you stated “I should get to learn something about you now.”

Your husband raised an eyebrow, “well what would you like to know?”

You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to relent so easily, “well…” you stuttered, “what type of tea would you consider your favourite?”

“Really digging deep are we y/n?”

“I couldn’t think of something straight away!”

Despite the teasing, the questions continued, it was as if you were on a first date.

Except you were already living together and married.

One question was asked after the other. Ranging from you asking him about the daily life of a tri-commissioner, to him asking about the books you had bought earlier in the day.

It was only after Thoma had brought dinner to your room, that you had finally asked.

“So why me?”

Ayato’s chopsticks paused mid air “Why what?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, he was playing dumb.

“Why did Inazuma’s most desired bachelor, Yashiro commissioner, leader of the famed Shuumatsuban, and the man who brought the Kamisato Clan back to its former glory, the Kamisato Ayato. Decide that a nobody from a tea producing clan was the one you would want to spend the rest of you life with.”

Ayato looked at you in exasperation “You aren’t a nobody y/n there’s so much more to you.”

“We don’t need to get down to the specifics, don’t avoid the question!” You exclaimed, ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he took in your flustered state.

Ayato put a hand to his chin and hummed as if contemplating something grand. He took a moment to respond. “Would you believe me if I said that I found you to be a very interesting person y/n?”

You stared at him blankly.

“Don’t lie to me we didn’t even meet until the wedding.”

The smile that he sent you sent a chill down your spine “Well I suppose that’s true in a sense, but we have been in each other’s presence on multiple occasions.”

You couldn’t mask the your surprise, “we have?”

Ayato looked at you incredulously. “Surely you know how often the Yashiro commission requests supplies from your clan for the multiple events we host.”

You fiddled with your teacup “Well sure but that doesn’t mean that it was a guarantee that we bump into each other. I’m sure I would have remembered being in the presence of you of all people.”

Ayato shrugged, “Being in the public eye is much more my sisters domain. I tend to stick to the shadows during bigger festivals that I’m interested in. During one of these times… you caught my eye.”

Your eyes widened “I did?”

He looked bashful as he continued his story, you were sure that you were the first person to ever see him in this state.

“I always knew of you, as I often meet with your uncle for business. I don’t know if you know this but he often worries about you and tends to talk about you during these meetings.” Ayato hummed in contemplation. “Perhaps it was a tactic to make me say yes to the upcoming proposal”

You groaned in horror at the realization that the two men had been talking about you “I apologize for my uncles actions.”

Ayato waved dismissively “Thats not the point. At a festival is where I first saw you and was able to put a name to a face. What I didn’t expect was the fact that everything about you had fascinated me. The way you danced and had that kind of sparkle in you eyes as you wandered around in wonder. The way you kindly greeted everyone you met. I found myself looking for you at following festivals to see if that was always how you looked…it was.”

“So it was only my looks” you teased

he sighed exasperated “Of course not”

You laughed “I’m kidding. Keep going.”

“Then at one point I was due for a meeting at your estate with your uncle and I might have listened in on a deal you were striking with a business man. The confidence in your voice was obvious and the way you negotiated with grace and kindness, yet still with firmness, had me intrigued within the first couple seconds of me hearing it. My interest only grew when your meeting had concluded and I saw you step out. with an accomplished smile on your face”

You gaped at him, you very rarely took part in your family’s business deals, only helping with what your cousins or uncle were too busy to handle. For him to be there at that time on that day was truly a great coincidence.

“You really piqued my interest that day. Although it was not my first choice in ways to get closer to you, when I saw the proposal sent by your clan, everything seemed to fall into place.” Ayato laughed but his tone soon turned solemn.

“Unfortunately not everything worked out for me, because look at how things are going. I left you to fend for yourself against the public, we rarely see each other, and this is the longest we have ever spoken despite being married for months. I think I was just afraid of crossing any boundaries, after all this marriage is arranged and I had no idea as to how you felt about me.”

Without thinking you reached over the table and grabbed one of his hands in both of yours, touched by how vulnerable he was being with you, “I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage so easily if I thought ill of you in any way, while I may not have known you, you also piqued my interest. I won’t lie I was- still am extremely shocked, but I saw nothing bad coming out of this marriage really. It started off slow but we’re talking now, and well, don’t you think we’ve made some great progress?”

He smiled endearingly at you, “yes, I am grateful for this opportunity and hope that we can continue on this path.”

You laughed, “now you’re making it sound like a business deal.”

After that, you and Ayato finished your dinner making pleasant conversation. The sun had long gone down when he made the call for the both of you to retire for the night.

He once again stood in the doorway of your room, only this time you were standing right in front of him.

“I’ll have a heavier workload tomorrow but I think I’ll be able to join you for dinner again.”

You smiled up at him “I would like that, please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m part of this clan too you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you y/n.”

There was a pause and Ayato reluctantly continued. “Well I should take my leave for the night.”

As he turned, something seemed to overcome you, and you grabbed at his wrist,

“Ayato.”

He froze and turned to look at you curiously. you shyly looked away, “before you go. May I have a hug?”

He gave you a teasing smile, “this is all happening so fast, what will everyone think?”

“Oh please we’re already married.”

He laughed and his smile softened.

Without anymore words, Ayato opened his arms.

You couldn’t hold back the giddy smile that crossed your face and without hesitation you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace for the first time in what would become many.

A scent that was uniquely his filled your nose, and as you pressed against his chest you could feel and hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A need you had been suppressing for months had finally been fulfilled. His hold was strong and comforting, his hold making you feel like you again.

Ayato chuckled to himself as his grip tightened, “well now I’ve found myself in a predicament.”

Still holding onto him, you turned your head to look up at him. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to let go.”

[sorceresssundries]

Until We Wake

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Warnings: Talk of death, afterlife, angst.

Word Count: 1000 words

A/N - I wanted to try and write something different, and move away from my usual overly-descriptive style.

I hope you like it <3

You are dead.

It was easy in the end. Like taking off a coat you’d been wearing too long.

There’s no confusion. You know you are dead, and it’s okay…Was okay? Is okay? Time is strange here. Slippery.

You are sitting at the edge of a great lake. Well, not really sitting, not really by a lake, but that’s how it feels. There is no sunshine, but you can feel the warmth of it on your—skin? No, not skin. There isn’t any skin. There isn’t a body at all. You just… are.

It’s nice, actually.

“God?” A voice, though not a voice, fills the space around you.

“Erm, no. Sorry. There may be one around somewhere, though,” you reply.

You sense a kind of exasperation.

“No,” it says, more insistently. “Which God is yours? Who did you worship?”

“Oh!” That’s funny. If you had lungs, you would laugh. “I didn’t really worship one.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

You’ve probably given the wrong response and are now going to drift here for eternity in silence. That doesn’t seem so bad. There’s peace in it.

“But, uh, I felt close to Selûne. I knew her daughter, actually. Aylin? I saved her once—no, twice! From an eternal cycle of ritual torture and sacrifice. Twice!” You pause, waiting for the weight of your heroism to settle in. “Can you write that down? Are you writing things down? I don’t really know how this works.”

“I am not writing things down.”

“Right. Okay.”

More time passes—seconds, hours, centuries. It is hard to tell. If experience has taught you anything, it’s that you should probably be a little hesitant about listening to mysterious entities who appear in your unconsciousness. But, for whatever reason, you have no doubt that you’re safe.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Nobody.”

“Oh.” Another eternal pause. “Sorry, I don’t know what that means. I know you don’t have a body. I don’t either. What I meant to ask is... what’s your purpose here?”

“To help”

“Ah.” You think about that. It feels distant, though, like the thought isn’t entirely yours. “Can Withers bring me back? He usually does.”

“No. Not this time.”

That’s alright, you realise. Everything ends.

“Can you tell me how you died?” the voice continues, unhurried.

If sadness existed here, you would feel it.

“I failed somebody. I couldn’t convince him he was deserving enough to live. He sacrificed himself. I stayed with him.”

“Gale Dekarios,” comes the response. Even now, even here, the sound of his name warms you.

“Yes! That’s him! Have you met him? Is he here too?”

“He is not.”

You pause, a moment of confusion or relief, it’s hard to say. Perhaps he’s with Mystra.

He had followed her order, hadn't he? He had used the orb. Perhaps he was cradled back in her starlit palm. Perhaps he was finally fulfilled.

“He’s probably with his Goddess,” you say, matter-of-factly.

“He forgot his Goddess. At the end, he thought only of you.”

Right. He had said something like that once. On a boat he had built out of hope and stardust. It felt like a lifetime ago. You wish you had said more to him—something different. You should have been more convincing, made him see he was more than magic, more than martyrdom. He was kind. Funny. So very human.

Not anymore.

“Will I see him again?”

“Maybe”

This voice that’s not a voice is not hugely helpful. It feels distant. Somehow big and small. Like many voices, or none, all at the same time.

“I let him down,” you whisper, though no sound leaves you.

“He forgives you.”

What do they know of Gale? This mysterious spectre. Maybe it’s just your own thoughts, your desperation, trying to clutch at forgiveness. Maybe death has splintered you into fragments of yourself whispering back and forth. Maybe the afterlife is nothing more than talking to yourself in the quiet, with no one left to answer. A conversation in circles, where you are both the call and the response.

“You loved him" they say. It isn't a question.

“I did. I do. I always will.”

It's lucky you don't have a heart. It would be in splinters.

“Would you like to try again?” The voice offers.

Your thoughts pause, grasping at the idea. “You mean, go back? To the start? Is that possible?”

“Sometimes. Under certain circumstances.”

A chance to try again. At what? Saving Gale? Having a better life? A better death? Eventually finding your way back to this place, with no regrets holding you back?

You would like that.

“Will I remember this?”

“No.”

“Will he?”

“No.”

You could have had this conversation hundreds of times before, or perhaps it is the first and only. It is impossible to know.

“Ok. Yes, please.”

You can feel the pieces of yourself starting to come apart, like threads of a tapestry being unspooled by the oldest and gentlest of hands.

You reach out for those delicate, golden threads on instinct, but they slip away, and it is hard to know whether you are letting go of them or they are letting go of you.

Scratch the Dog. Karlach’s laughter. Night Orchids. Sunlight on scarred skin. Homemade cookies. Gale. Magic. A kiss.

You try to hold them tighter.

“How do I know I won’t make the same mistakes all over again?” you ask.

“You don’t,” the voice that wasn’t a voice says.

A silver sword. A man with horns dancing. Pipe smoke and bear fur. Taverns and temples and soft touches. Gale.

You’re trying to hold so many of them, you have to let others go. What is your name again? How old are you? Who were your parents?

Moonlight through shadow. A boat on make-believe water. A hand in yours. A purple dagger.

“Will I still be me?” You’re no longer sure what that means.

“That depends.”

The lake that wasn’t a lake, the warmth that wasn’t the sun, all of it begins to fade. You feel yourself pulled away, or maybe pulled together. You aren’t sure which—you just know you’re going somewhere, somewhen.

The voice speaks a final time as everything ends. As everything begins.

“Who are you?”

[lieslab]

Daddy issues

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: A simple phone call from your father and Chan's added anger makes you mentally crumble.

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7.3K

Trigger warning: Parental issues, (specifically daddy issues) emotional abuse and neglect, physical abuse, a bit of an unhealthy romantic relationship, anger, self-hatred, blood, self-harm, mentions and attempt of suicide via razor blade, and a panic attack.

A/N: Even without the request, I feel like this has been a long time coming. Please heed the trigger warnings. Please. Shout out to all the baddies out there with parental issues. Shout out to all the Chan stans with daddy issues. You're so strong, keep going, I believe in all of you <3

Requestee, I hope this leaves you satisfied. I don't think you ever said you were struggling, but just by this, it seems you are. I hope this helps you cope with whatever struggles you either have had or currently are facing in life.

I did change a few things around to fit the story more, but most of it's the same. I think I got everything you wanted in there, besides those few minor changes. I also experimented with time jumps which is new, but I think they were needed for this one. This is a long one, so buckle up and please enjoy!! <3

_ _ _

The words are thrown around without much thought. Daddy issues this and mommy issues that. People wear them like a badge of honor. Always seeking out other people that can fill the gaps that their parents left behind. Searching for temporary band-aids to cover wounds that need stitches to heal. 

Everyone wants to be perfect. Nobody wants to admit that the people who were supposed to love them the most fucked them up the worst. Nobody ever wants to admit that their nurture was ripped away before they ever got it. Cruelty swaddled them instead of sweetness. Neglect and despair instead of encouragement and understanding. Some people were doomed from the start. 

At twenty-two years old, you understood that your daddy issues were a noose around your neck, they were always there. A poking twine that pressed against your windpipe and jugular. All it took was a few words and the noose tightened. It was suffocating, it was restricting, and it was paralyzing. 

There was a devil and an angel on each shoulder. One was angry and smoldering. Smoke bellowed out of its ears and it was always ready to snap. The other was an angel, sweet and soft-spoken, constantly reassuring you that you had it better than most. Of course you did because, at least, you had a dad, right? 

Any dysfunctional relationship could cause a rocky conscience. You swore you were doomed from the start. You’d never fall in love. Nobody would be able to care about you in the way you wanted them to. At least, it was like that until Bang Chan. 

When Chan came into your life, you fell hard. You didn’t get a chance to stand before your knees were jerked out beneath you. He was strong, he was charming, he was dominating, and he was everything you wanted him to be. 

Being older meant he had more wisdom and more life experience. He was soaked with the knowledge that you craved. He understood you, he got you, and heading towards his later twenties, he was hesitant when you showed up. While you turned twenty-five, he’d be thirty. 

You didn’t let that stop you from wowing him. From caring about him with every fiber of your being, you would have given up everything to appease him and more. Hell, if he experienced organ failure, you’d cut yourself open without a second thought and rip it from your insides with a smile on your face. You were down bad, but your issues were still there. 

You were aware of them when you seeked out his validation. When you kept asking if he was sure he still loved you. You couldn’t shake everything that your father had ingrained in you, but you were still so desperate to fill that void. 

Some would say it’s weird, but you would say that you needed him to survive. You needed him. He was the air in your lungs and the familiar thump of your heart. You needed him as much as plants needed the sun. Like the Earth needed the moon and like bees needed pollen. You called it destiny whereas a few of your family members called it desperation, but they didn’t understand it. They just…didn’t get it. They had no idea what you had been through. They didn’t understand the gaping wounds that had yet to be stapled, but Chan got it instantly. 

He realized it after you swayed the conversation in another direction at the mention of your family. He knew it when fathers were brought up and the hurt flashed across your eyes. He knew it when you clung to him like a koala with fear and asked for clarification on his thoughts about you. 

You were damaged and he knew that. He didn’t mind because everyone had their issues and besides, at the end of the day, he still loved you as you were. He was thrilled to wrap his arms around you when you curled around him and point out everything he loves about you. 

From the squish of your soft cheeks, the curve of your nose, the shade of your eyes, and the way you dress, he loved it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly, he gave the relationship his all; you both did. No matter how much the guys joked that he was a silver fox, he always rolled his eyes and shook off their comments. They were just joking and he knew that deep down, the guys cared about you too. 

He knew a lot about you, but he didn’t realize just how much these issues bothered you. He didn’t realize that you were nearly suffocating yourself. Out of all the things he knew, he had no idea how much you silently suffered until you snapped. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The day started a lot like any other day. You went to work and by the time you finished, you found a text message from Chan announcing that he’d be at the studio later tonight. It was one of those days where the creative juices were overflowing and he wanted to get everything worked out before he forgot. 

You didn’t mind it and started to head home, but then you thought about the dimpled smile and sparkly eyes of Chan. God, you were utterly smitten. With a quick change of direction, you found yourself heading towards the JYP studio instead of your apartment. 

Give or take twenty minutes and you were walking into your second home. The JYP building truly has become your home away from home. You came here a lot to support Chan and the guys. It was strange having an extra person along, but eventually, they grew used to your antics. 

The guys accepted you with open arms and when you came around, they got excited. Sometimes you brought presents, like cookies. Other times, just your brief distraction sidetracked them from their ongoing issues. That temporary change of direction helped them sort out their issues quicker. 

You checked in at the front desk and pulled on your guest badge. It was a new system that the company had been doing after a sasaeng had managed to gain access to the building. If you were found roaming the halls without a pass or a security badge, you were instantly booted unless you could properly explain yourself. 

You tugged the lanyard over your head and practically skipped to the studio room. Upon knocking, the door opened to reveal Changbin. A grin pressed his cheeks up into points. “Hi!” 

“Hey,” you returned the smile, “is Ch-” 

He jerked the door open wider to reveal Chan in the background. Chan was directing whoever was in the booth. You picked up Felix’s deep voice in the background. Chan was sitting in a hoodie and a pair of navy blue basketball shorts. He bobbed his head along to the voice. 

“You can come in, just try to keep it down because we’re rec-” 

“You’ve got it.” 

He opened the wooden door wider and you stepped inside. In the booth, headphones were over Felix’s ears. His messy blonde hair had been pushed around by the band connecting the ear covers. 

His eyes focused on the lyrics as he sang. You slung your bag to the side and smiled as you saw Jeongin sitting on the opposite side of the couch. The two of you exchanged a wave and you quietly came to sit beside him on the opposite side. 

Changbin snuck back into the chair beside Chan and Felix continued to sing. After a few more seconds, Felix’s voice cracked and he stopped singing. “Fuck!” He cried out. 

“I don’t ever recall that being part of the song,” Jeongin mumbled. 

“Yeah, what Innie said,” Changbin agreed. 

Chan stopped the recording with a sigh. He pressed a button, so Felix could hear him in the booth. “Felix, is something wrong today? This is the fourth time your voice has cracked. Do you need us to change the lyrics or-” 

“No! No! No! Of course, I don’t need you to change the lyrics! It’s just the pitch of the song. It’s so high and I’m really trying my best here, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get it or not and oh-” His eyes brightened when he saw you. “When did you get here?” 

Chan shifted in his seat and blinked when he saw you behind him. You smiled softly at him. “Hi, baby.” 

“What are you doing here? I told you that I’d be home late.” 

“I know, but I just wanted to see you.” 

“I’m busy.” 

“I’m fully aware. I have no intention of stopping you from working. I’ll sit here silently without a peep. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

“Yeah, right,” he mumbled beneath his breath. 

Felix and Changbin both shot him a glare. Changbin’s fingers jabbed into Chan’s side. Chan was worked up and stressed because Felix wasn’t getting this part of the song. It wasn’t just Felix that had struggled, everyone was struggling. 

Chan had created the instrumentals of this song and thought it’d be a home run, but he hadn’t considered how much the pitch would be a struggle for some of the guys. He was frustrated because if they couldn’t reach the right note, the song would have to be scrapped and he was distracted by other songs he wanted to work on. 

Seungmin’s silky and strong vocals weren’t the same as Felix’s deeper tone. Han’s wide range of vocals wasn’t the exact same as what Minho was comfortable with. Songs could be challenging and this seemed to be the biggest challenge yet.

Luckily for you, you hadn’t heard Chan’s mumble because your phone vibrated in your hands. You swiped the screen before thinking and held the phone up to your ear. “Hello?” 

When Chan rolled his eyes, Changbin slapped him in the back of the head. “What is your issue today?” He whispered. “Knock it off and stop being an asshole.” 

“We’re busy and-” 

“So tell them to leave and don’t be an asshole about it.” 

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have a significant other always up your ass.” 

“You're the world’s biggest asshole right now and unless you want to lose them, I’d drop the attitude. Just because you’re frustrated, it doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk. Use your words, you’re supposed to be the oldest in the room, so act like it.” 

“Oh, so you’re finally picking up the phone this time?” 

Your father’s voice in your ear caused your heart to sink to your stomach. The blood in your veins turned to ice. You shut your eyes before responding. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy recently and I-” 

“Busy my ass. You can text your mother, but not me? I was the one who created you and you still can’t be grateful for that. Without me, you’d be nothing.” 

“I’ve been texting the family group chat and I-” 

“You know damn well that I don’t give a shit about no family group chat!” 

You winced and pushed yourself up. Jeongin stared at you with a raised eyebrow. When you noticed, you flashed him a smile and held up a finger to let him know that you’d only be a minute. Before anyone could say anything, you disappeared outside the room and into the empty hallway. 

“What do you want?” 

“Is it a crime to want to know how my child is doing?” 

Your stomach twisted into thoughts as your father scoffed. A frown appeared on your face and, even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s difficult to find time to talk when we’re on different time zones and-” 

“Bullshit! You’re an ungrateful piece of shit! I gave you this goddamn life and you can’t even come visit! I have to find out from Google that you’re dating an idol! What have you told him? Why won’t he come visit?” 

“Nothing!” Your voice squeaked in shock. “I haven’t told him anything, he’s just so busy. He’s in a band and we-” 

“Then bring him down here, so your mother and I can meet him! What happened to respecting your parents? I didn’t even give you permission to date him!” 

As his voice raised louder, you tugged the phone away from your ear. A lump began to form in your throat as curse words were thrown your way. You shut your eyes and waited for him to calm down. Your hands were shaking as you mumbled into the phone. 

“I think I’m losing reception, I’ll call you back in a while.” 

“Don’t you fucking hang up on m-” 

The click ended his words before he got out the sentence. All at once, the weight of everything fell on top of you. Insult after insult wormed deeper and deeper into your brain. You wanted, you needed, to speak to Chan. You weren’t strong enough to deal with this on your own yet. 

You shoved your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and pushed the door open. Felix was singing again and your fingers curled into your palms. “Chan?” Your voice came out hoarse. “Can we talk for a moment?” 

The sound of your voice caused Jeongin to look up with a face full of worry. Even Changbin glanced behind his shoulder to check on you. When Felix caught Changbin’s head turning, he looked up to find you rapidly blinking back tears. His singing stopped and Chan’s fist flew into the desk. 

The rattling of the desk shook your soul. It started everyone, but you the most. Suddenly, you were five years old again in the back of your father’s van. You were weak and vulnerable. Defenseless, there was nothing you could do as your father’s wrath expanded along the four locked doors. 

You sucked it in and you couldn’t breathe. Your heart hammered in your chest, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do. You were five and yet the anger of a thousand angry men was cast at you. 

It vibrated the marrow in your bones. The strands of your heart strings curled inward. Your childlike curiosity shattered in the backseat. Stay quiet, don’t utter a word, just take the yelling. Like a deer in headlights, you were trapped. 

It funneled down your throat and created a lump. Crocodile tears appeared in your eyes. You sniffled and your bottom lip shook, you were alone once more. Alone in the thunder and anguish; the swirl of one man’s anger. 

A flower in the middle of a tornado. Thrown, chucked, depetaled. Ripped from the stem and crushed between the winds. At the end, you were ripped to shreds and utterly defeated. Not even the thorns of your own stem could save you. 

“Goddammit! Why can’t you just go home? I’m trying to work here and you’re ruining it! I don’t have time for you right now! Go home and I’ll deal with your bullshit later. This is my career we’re talking about!” 

The song’s soft instrumentals faded in the background as the song ended. You couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down your cheeks. It stung more than you ever would have imagined. The words were a sharp sting to your cheek. The noose of daddy issues choked you again and you couldn’t breathe. 

“See you later,” you mumbled as you tipped your head down and rushed towards the door. You pawed at your tears and rushed into the hall and down the corridor to head home. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Changbin snapped. 

“We’re working!” 

“And they were crying! If you would have taken five seconds to look behind you, you would have-” 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me! It’s bullshit! I probably hurt their feelings. Whatever. We have work to do. I’ll apologize later.” 

While the two bickered, Jeongin stepped up and disappeared out the door to try and find you. Whatever you were struggling with, it hadn’t been good. Chan’s outburst had only made it worse and he knew that. He saw the terror in your eyes when the other person responded on the opposite end of the phone.

Felix looked from Chan’s angry face to Changbin’s scowl. When he caught Jeongin rushing out the door after you, his confusion only grew. “What’s happening?” He asked into the microphone. 

Chan slammed his hand down on the button, so Felix could hear him. “Don’t worry about it. Get out of the booth, we’re going to take five.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As you walked home in the whipping wind, your hair tangled around your head. It blocked your vision and the gray skies added to your warped reality. It felt like everyone and everything was against you. 

That was the one fatal flaw with humans. When we enter a dark mindset, it’s the only thing we think about. The only thing we feel is the harsh and back-breaking weight of the world on our shoulders. The clouds close in and all feels lost as the rain pours down. 

You walked quickly with your head down. Keeping to the sidewalks, you were nearly running. You were moving so fast that by the time Jeongin made his way outside the studio, you were already halfway down the road. He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to frighten you. He kept his pace brisk, but he didn’t run. 

He loved Chan for a wide variety of reasons, but he couldn’t believe he had just snapped at you like that. Of course, Chan was angry when he was mad, but this wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. 

You sniffled and kept rushing as the wind cupped your ears. You were hollow on the inside. That faint flicker of light inside you had been kept going by Chan. It wasn’t the best idea to depend on one person to make you happy, but you didn’t know what else to do. 

Your biggest fear has finally come true, everyone hates you. Maybe not to your face, but you can feel it. The bitter hatred that’s so vitriol, it’s rancid. A hatred that’s thicker than oil and stickier than jam. 

You were looking at assumptions, not facts, but your brain was set in stone. No one would be able to save you now. You had fallen far from grace. Your issues had poisoned you from the start. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t meant for any of this life. 

Perhaps, you would take a chance and try again in the next. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Jeongin knocked, you didn’t respond. He shoved the hair out of his face and tried again. When you didn’t respond to the softer knocks, he knocked harder. When you didn’t respond to that, he held his breath and turned the knob to your apartment. 

Breaking and entering wasn’t something he would have liked to go to jail for, but could you blame him? He knew you were hurting and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone and sobbing. 

Chan’s words to you had been far too cruel. Sure he was angry, but anyone in the right state of mind would have realized that something was terribly wrong with you. It was a gut feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake. 

His brain was screaming at him to leave as he silently ventured further into the apartment. One step into the hall and then another. He didn’t bother with the common courtesy of kicking off his shoes. 

The place smelled like sweet citrus. It was a familiar scent that had belonged to you since he had known you. Once upon a time, Chan marveled at how much you adored citrus. If only he would have been here now. 

The carpeted hall felt too silent. The living room was too empty as he stepped out into it. Bookshelves filled with books, a coffee table with the TV remote, photographs of Chan and the rest of the band on the back wall. Your friends were your everything and so was Chan. 

Where were the photos of your family, he wondered. It was such a simple thought, but it flew by just as quick. Your presence was here, but yet you weren’t. Where were you at? 

He softly called your name and stepped by the coffee table. The bar table in the kitchen had been left abandoned. The hum of the fridge caused his heart to strum faster. There was an eeriness that he just couldn’t shake. 

Every fiber of his being was wound up. Loose floorboards creaked beneath his feet. He was sure that he had seen you enter your apartment. From a distance, he watched your figure fumble for house keys and stumble inside. Your hands brushed past your face and he was positive you were wiping away the tears that kept blurring your vision. 

He called your name a little louder, but there was no response. His mouth dipped into a frown and he uttered your name again when a faint whimper caught him off guard. His spine stood erected as he waited for another sound, but it never came. 

As he approached the room it came from, he was prepared for sobs. He was prepared for tears. He was prepared for the anguish that came with it, but he wasn’t expecting the bright red that began to seep beneath the bathroom door. 

His heart stopped and for a brief moment, he couldn’t breathe. Nothing made sense. The circuit of his brain had stumbled across a trip. Something cut out and his brain whirled trying to reboot. 

A scream ripped from his lungs as he rushed towards the bathroom and there you were. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even care or notice that he was there. 

Full of self-hatred, you were cutting, no. You were sawing it out of you bit by bit. They don’t tell you that when you hate yourself, there is no pain in self-harm. It’s a dangerous sweet release. The stinging and burning sensation fills you with a sense of euphoric triumph. Self-mutilation feels like bliss and the cold blade in your hand feels like a friend. In some twisted way, it can be the best thing you ever feel. 

There was blood everywhere. It dripped from the slices in your wrist. It saturated your clothes and it was all over the bathroom floor. Maybe you tripped and fell. Maybe you were set on killing yourself. Maybe you just snapped. 

Human skin is so thin that it can easily be penetrated by a single piece of paper. So small, so little, and yet the fiery ache of pain is felt everywhere all at once. You couldn’t feel the fire in your arm. Gone into shock, your body had blocked you from feeling anything. 

You weren’t even aware of Jeongin’s presence until he grabbed your arm. Your bloodshot eyes were watery as they met his concerned russet ones. “Please, stop,” he whispered. 

With a snarl, you jerked your arm away from him. You started to scream and lash out. He grabbed your hand and pinned you down again. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yelled. 

“Please, please, please stop.” His voice wavered. He was terrified for you and he didn’t want to make it worse. He knew how much Chan’s yelling earlier upset you. He didn’t want to trigger you further. 

“Leave me alone!” Your shrill voice cracked from desperation. “Get off! Let go!” 

“No!” 

You swiped the blade down with your hand, nearly cutting him in the process. Your head bucked as you tried to free yourself. He ducked his head with a yelp. 

He shoved your bleeding body back onto the floor. Your free hand flew up, in an attempt to stop yourself, but it didn’t work. Your brain rattled around your skull as you were blinded by the sudden pain of it all. 

Jeongin panicked as he desperately used the code word to activate the voice command on his phone. When you heard “call Bang Chan,” you lost it even more. 

“Stop it!” He begged as you squirmed again. Your hands flailed and you yelled back. 

Back and forth back and forth, you refused to let go of the blade. You gripped it so hard that you didn’t care that the sharpened blade cut into your opposite palm. You were fighting tooth and nail to keep a tight grip on it. You weren’t going to let go. Not even Jeongin, one of your closest friends, could save you from the demons in your head. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

In the studio, Chan was ready to slam his head into the wall himself. Changbin was non-stop lecturing him and once Felix found out, Felix was also up his ass. Nobody seemed to understand that they had a job to do. 

When his phone rang, he used it as an excuse to leave the pair angrily grumbling to themselves. He stepped out the studio door, just as you had. He let out a sigh before he swiped and answered the call. “What do you want, Innie?” 

A thump responded along with a yell. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I.N? What are you-” 

“Put it down! Put the blade down! Stop it!” 

His heart suddenly turned to ice. “I.N?” He whispered. “What is hap-” The response that you gave nearly dropped him to his knees. 

“No one cares! Just let me die!” 

He suddenly felt like he was about to projectile vomit. His stomach churned and twisted and the world felt a little blurry. “What is happening?” He raised his voice and began to yell at the phone. “Jeongin?” 

“Alexa, speaker phone!” Jeongin cried out. “Chan, I can’t stop them! Please! I need you! I don’t know what to do! They won’t stop hurting themselves!” 

The world stopped tilting on its axis. The seconds froze in time. His breath caught in the echo-chamber of his lungs. “No,” he whispered. Tears pricked in his eyes and he suddenly rushed down the hall. 

“Don’t let them die! Do you hear me, Innie? Don’t let them die!” 

He flew out of the JYP building like a bat out of hell. He clutched his phone, now on its own speaker phone. This path that he used to practically skip after work because he was so excited to see you. Now it could potentially be the path to your corpse. 

“Fuck!” He cried out as the struggle continued on the other end of the phone. 

“C-Chan?” You croaked weakly. “I don’t wanna do it anymore. I-I can’t.” 

Guilt swallowed him whole. He could barely breathe as he ran. “Baby? Baby, can you hear me? It’s okay. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” 

“You hate me.” 

“I could never hate you. I took it out on you earlier and I’m sorry.” His head jerked as he made sure he was pursuing the correct street. His footsteps thudded on the pavement. 

“Listen to me, I need you to drop the blade. Can you do that to me? Listen to Innie and drop the blade. I’m coming, okay? I’m nearly there, just listen to my voice.” 

To Jeongin’s relief and Chan’s surprise, there was a soft clatter as you released the blade from your hand. You were exhausted after fighting with Jeongin and the blood was starting to become tacky against your skin. 

You hated the murky feeling that it left behind. Every movement of your wounded palm oozed more blood. Jeongin panted over your body. Your arms were pinned to your sides as he straddled you. 

His own body was painted in your blood. Bright red handprints smeared across his white shirt. His light pair of blue jeans seeped it up like a sponge. There were even fingerprints staining his cheek from where you had swiped your hand at him. 

“I’m almost there, I’m coming to the house right now. Where are you? What room?” 

“Bathroom!” 

Chan burst through the door and into the bathroom. His heart dropped when he found you pinned and nearly half unconscious. Blood was all over the floor. It was smeared against the bathroom cabinets and the tub. 

Jeongin never took his eyes off you. He was too afraid that you’d find the blade again and do something worse. Chan ended the call and stepped over the puddle of blood leading into the bathroom. 

He softly called your name and stepped beside you. Your eyes weakly met his. He felt like he was going to burst into tears. His knees buckled and he sank down beside you. He didn’t waste time grabbing a wet rag and shifting beside Jeongin. 

“Innie, I’ve got it from here, go call an ambulance.” 

Jeongin hesitated, but finally nodded and stepped out of the bathroom. Before he left, he kicked off his shoes, so he didn’t trample blood into the rest of the house. 

The realization of your situation sent shocks of electricity buzzing through your skull. “Fuck,” you muttered. Tears began to build up in your eyes and they trickled down your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-” 

“Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just try to save your strength, okay?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” your voice came out shrill. 

“I know, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

The lining of your lungs seemed to thicken as you struggled to breathe in. You squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like breathing through a straw. Your brain had expanded with every wrong thought and now you were suffering. 

“Baby?” Chan whispered. He leaned forward closer to you and placed his hand over the razor blade, so you couldn’t see it. “What happened? What’s going on?” 

“Can’t breathe.” 

“Panic attack?” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“M-my dad,” your voice wavered. “I can’t-” 

“You don’t have to talk.” 

“Not a good relationship.” 

“Is that who called you earlier?” His eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I assumed, but I didn’t know for sure.” He reached down and pushed a bit of hair from your face. 

“He’s not good. H-he yells a-and-” You hiccuped, “abusive.” 

“Oh, honey…I didn’t know. I-I was just so frustrated earlier, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I didn’t mean to upset you and I-” 

“I don’t feel good,” your eyes drooped further. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that. Baby? Baby, listen to me!” Not caring about the blood, Chan cupped your face. “Don’t you dare give up! Stay with me!” 

The last thing you heard were his desperate pleas as your eyes rolled back into your head. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When you finally came back home from the hospital, Chan forbade you from going to your apartment alone. Instead, he was nice enough to open up his dorm for you to use temporarily. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it was a manageable one for now. 

Ever since you regained consciousness, everything had been so foggy, but you remembered bits and pieces. You remembered the wine colored blood and the fear on Jeongin’s face. You remember being unable to breathe and the desperation of Chan’s voice. 

Maybe some part of you was glad that you couldn’t remember the entire thing. You weren’t sure that you wanted to remember traumatizing your boyfriend and your friend, at least, not the specific details. 

Your hospital stay had ended up turning into a week-long stay. It turns out the hospitals don’t play when it comes to suicide attempts. You didn’t even try to deny it. There was a tender hurt inside of you that you had no clue how to fix. 

It was a surprise when things that the mandated therapists were saying made sense. Sure, you knew things were wrong, but to hear validation from people, it made you feel a tiny bit better. 

When you left, you promised to come back. There were parts of you that really did want to heal from all of this. You never wanted to put anyone through this ever again. When clarity came through at the hospital, you realized you didn’t really want to die, you just wanted the self-hatred festered inside your being to stop. 

You wanted the negative energy to cease and you wanted to be loved. You wanted to be healed in ways you didn’t know how to heal. You wanted a lot of things and the therapists had promised that if you came back, they could start to help you turn things around, but you had to consciously make that decision. 

You yourself had to focus on your own healing. It was hard and it was difficult. Healing is one of the hardest things a person can do for themselves, but it can be so rewarding. You don’t have to let your demons win. 

“Fight back. Raise hell. Don’t let them win.” It was something another patient had said during a mandated group therapy. “I’m tired of letting the negative thoughts in my brain win. I want to live. I don’t want to just survive, I want to live.” 

The more the people talked, the more you realized that you had some of what they were missing. Sure, your parents weren’t the best, but you had friends. You had a significant other. You had little things that some people craved. 

For most of your time spent at the hospital, you were lost in your thoughts. You had barely uttered a few words to Chan. When Jeongin came in, you nearly collapsed into tears apologizing over and over again for scaring him. 

He insisted it was fine, but you knew it wasn’t. Nothing you could do could ever take back the damage that you had given him. The nightmares, the trauma, it’d be something he might have to live with forever. Sure, it’d fade, but for now, it stuck to the back of his head like glue. 

“So…” Chan’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The two of you were standing in the dorm living room. He had sent the rest of the guys over to the other dorm, so you could settle in. “Welcome to your new temporary home.” 

This place really was your home. You had been here time after time again. These walls just might have known you better than your own apartment did. You glanced around and nodded. “Thank you.” 

“I cleared out my room, so you can have it.” 

“We’re not sharing?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want to.” 

Your hands tugged at the sleeves of your long sleeve shirt. Your fingers curled into them. The damage to your arm was so bad that doctors had a hard time fixing all the damage. They had also been concerned about infection since the wounds were so deep and there were multiple of them. 

You played with the hems trying to find words to say. “I’m sorry,” you finally got out, “for everything.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“It is entirely my fault. I don’t know how to deal with things in a healthy way. I’ve been handling a lot on my own and I broke down. I snapped in the worst way possible. The doctors called it a nervous breakdown.” 

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?” 

“Maybe you should be.” 

He shook his head, “I could never be mad at you.” 

You lowered yourself to the faux leather couch behind you and slowly took in a deep breath. “I have a lot of issues and I’ve always known they were there. I just…” You shrugged, “I didn’t think something like this would happen. I’ve struggled with self-harm before, but I snapped.” 

He sat across from you and shifted his body to face you. “I’m really sorry I yelled at you that day. I shouldn’t have ye-” 

“You were stressed and upset, it happens sometimes.” 

“That doesn’t make it right.” 

“The therapist says I have parental issues from my father and it has affected me in a variety of ways. In fact, she said it’s why I’m probably dating you.” 

“What’s wrong with our relationship?” 

“She said I need to stop leaning on you to fill the void that my dad left behind and I hate that she’s right.” 

“Oh…” His face fell. “So does that mean we’re breaking up?” 

“Do you want to?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t, but what about you? What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t wanna break up either.” 

“So…” 

“So I’ll attend therapy and work on my issues. I’ll attempt to stop relying on you to make me happy because it’s not healthy.” 

“Yeah…” 

There was an awkwardness between you. Neither knew what to say and nobody wanted to harm the other. Chan finally broke the silence. “Can I hold you?” 

You shifted and crawled over towards him. He was careful of the stitches in your palm and in your opposite arm. You curled into his lap and he pulled you to his chest. Your head leaned against the familiar thump of his heartbeat. “I missed you,” you mumbled. 

“I miss you too.” His lips kissed the top of your head. Your sweet scent engulfed him. He leaned his chin on your head and shut his eyes. The warmth of your body was enough to set his soul ablaze. 

“My dad wasn’t a good man,” you finally mustered the courage to talk about it. “He called me at the studio and I didn’t read the caller ID. I just wanted to see you after a long day. When I left and went outside, he just started yelling and getting upset.”

“He’s verbally abusive and a hothead. Ever since I was a kid, he gets angry easily and he can’t control it. He throws things, he swings, and he’d destroy my things. I lived my life in so much fear because he’d threaten to disown me. My family never did anything about it, they just let it happen.” 

Chan’s hand went to your back. He soothingly rubbed it while you spoke. “I had no idea.” 

“I felt like I shouldn’t talk about it because some people don’t have fathers. I should be grateful that I even have a father and I-” 

“You don’t have to be grateful to someone who frightens you and makes you hate yourself. That’s not what a father should be. I probably enhanced your fight or flight instinct when I yelled at you, I’m so sorry.” 

“Every time I talk to him, I feel miserable. All of them, I’m so angry at all of them.” 

“You don’t have to continue putting yourself through any of that. You don’t have to talk to the people that make you miserable. Please don’t keep putting yourself through all this distress, baby.” 

“I just want to be happy.” 

“And I have no doubt that you’ll get there soon, sweetheart. When you’re feeling at your worst, you don’t have to turn to self-harm. You can come find me, yeah? I’ll always be here for you. Now that I know what’s wrong, I’ll be sure to never act like I did that day. I don’t want to lose you.” 

His arms tightened around your body and his lips found the top of your head again. “You mean so much to me. I can’t imagine a life without you. I’d be devastated if you weren’t here. If you ever feel like that, come find me and I’ll distract you.” 

“But that’s such a burden for you to carry.” 

“It’s not a burden if I love you.” 

You finally picked your head up and looked at him with teary eyes. His own eyes were similar as they looked at you. Without asking, you leaned forward and your lips connected. 

It was pure bliss…until it wasn’t. The front door to the dorm slammed open. The crack of it into the wall sent both of you pulling away from each other. 

Hwang Hyunjin sashayed into the room with a pair of sunglasses, a towel around his neck, and a blue pool noodle over his shoulders. “Surprise, bitches!” 

“Hyung, you have no manners,” Jeongin grumbled as he stepped in behind him. When his eyes found you, he beamed. “Hi!” He waved excitedly and rushed towards the two of you. 

Minho stepped inside, grabbed the pool noodle from Hyunjin, and bonked him on the head with it. “You insensitive fuck! I told you they couldn’t swim due to stitches!” 

“Ow!” 

Minho bonked him again. “You’re lucky you’re getting a pool noodle to the head and not a fist to your pretty face.” He glanced over at you and grinned. “Sup?” 

Chan sighed and kept his arms clamped around your back. “I’m so sorry about them. I didn’t have time to tell you that I invited all of them over to hang out for a game night and maybe some movies. We can order your favorite foods and w-” 

“Hyung, look at all my snacks!” 

“Mine too!” 

Han and Felix walked inside with grocery bags full of snacks. They wasted zero time going to the coffee table and dumping them out. The pair beamed happily as they waited for your approval and you managed a soft smile. 

“You two waste zero time making messes, don’t you? Hey,” Seungmin called out and he nodded towards you. “Glad you’re not dead. I can’t wait to-” 

The sound of Changbin screaming your name at the top of his lungs caused your eyes to widen in shock. Thunderous footsteps sounded from the porch and rushed inside. Changbin rushed in grinning with his arms outstretched. He was getting closer and closer until a pool noodle slammed into his face. 

He stumbled back dazed and Minho rolled his eyes. He handed the pool noodle back to Hyunjin and shook his head. “You are all unbelievable. You have zero manners.” 

“Strike,” Seungmin mumbled beneath his breath. 

You snorted which caused him to glance over and grin. 

“This is okay with you, right?” Chan glanced down at you. “If it’s too much, I can ask them to go back and I-” 

You shook your head, “it’s fine. I’m not sure about participating in games, because uh…” You gently shifted your bandaged arm hidden beneath your long sleeves. “Movie night and food sounds wonderful.” 

“Ya-hoo!” Changbin cheered. “Let’s get this party started.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, snacks!” 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Minho ripped the pool noodle from Hyunjin’s hand and bonked him on the head again. A scowl filled Changbin’s face. “Let the guest pick first.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Hit him one more time and he’s going to lose the last brain cell he has,” Seungmin complained. 

“Yeah!” Hyunjin agreed as he crossed his arms over his chest. Minho bonked Hyunjin over the head. He groaned and slumped into the recliner behind him. “Channie, hyung, he’s beating me up! He’s killing my brain cells too!” 

“You idiot,” I.N huffed, “you don’t even have any to lose!” 

“Hey!” 

“So how have you been?” Felix asked as he got on his knees beside the couch. “Do you want a snack? Do you want to play Animal Crossing?” 

“Or we could watch an anime?” Han offered with a cheeky smile. “Whatever you’re up for, we’re down with.” 

“Exactly, whatever you want, babe.” Chan rubbed your back with some reassurance. “The guys and I got you.” 

“Can I just observe you interacting with each other? There’s plenty of humor in that and I-” 

“Oh, sure!” Minho beamed. He lifted up the pool noodle with a smirk. “Sit back and watch me play whack-a-mole.” 

“Wait a minute!” 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

Without another word, Minho grinned as he started to take turns whacking the guys’ heads.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

[loviingpedri]

tasting blondies - mason mount and joe burrow

prompt: noticing a pattern in your love life.

joe b x reader

ex!mason mount x reader

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguing

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

sitting on the couch with you boyfriend, joe. you ran your fingers through his short hair.

“i can’t believe you did this.” you laughed as both of you smiled.

“yeah, me either. i decided to change it up for the summer. do something for the new season.” he held you tight, smelling his strong cologne.

“if it’s one thing, you look good. really good.” you clicked your tongue at the emphasis of the word ‘really’.

and that’s when the flashback hit you.

slowly touching his hair, admiring the white chocolate color. at the same time a few years ago, you would be ending a messy situation with a boy with a similar haircut, mason mount.

“is there something wrong?” joe asked you as your expression changed.

“no, nothing is wrong. something just came in mind.”

you love joe, seriously. the memories of june 2023 always come back to haunt you. meeting the famous other footballer, changing your life. you experienced so many things within a month. you were so attached, blinded by love, nothing would’ve seen it coming.

on mason’s summer vacation, he invited you to go to spain with him. of course you accepted, you wanted to see what this relationship could bring to your life.

in the end, it was pain, regret, and heartbreak.

joe was staring at your facial features and talking gently, “you can talk to me.”

“it’s nothing. just some old memories came back. it was never important anyway.” your cleared your throat, desperately wanting to change the topic on the conversation.

“is it about that one guy you told me about? mason mount, right?”

you looked at him, trying to find a good answer.

“yeah, but i don’t wanna think about him. he’s long gone in my life. i’m craving some brownies, what about you?”

laughing at you, “i think it’s funny, the guys sent in the group chat of him when i first showed my hair. they said it was funny how you’re dating another blonde now.”

“i never thought of that.” you laid your back on the coach, really taking in the information of the pattern you just figured out.

“you know, you never told me what happened with him.” you looked at joe, a lump formed in your throat.

————flashbacks————

“are you serious right now, mase?” you pushed him away from you as he was attempting to explain.

“it wasn’t like that!”

“you use that same fucking excuse for everything.”

“i’m not the one who followed someone else on this vacation.” he threw his arms up.

“everything is about you. isn’t it? i went on this vacation because i was in love with you. mase, you can’t be serious right now.”

“nobody told you to catch feelings, alright. i thought we both assumed this wasn’t gonna be serious.” you scoffed at him.

“so you took this as a joke? i am not a joke.”

“holy shit, you’re actually unbelievable. we were never official!”

“to you. you think mind games is funny?”

“i only thought this was a summer fling. i thought you were gonna see other people, like me. i wasn’t gonna stay in chelsea forever and i was sure you weren’t gonna stay.”

tears forming in your eyes. you were in disbelief.

“of course i was gonna stay with you. i was ready to leave everything behind to follow you. i thought we had something.”

“sorry y/n. you thought wrong.”

————flashback ended————

you cleared your throat as you poured white chocolate chips into the batter.

“so yeah, that was my lame ex.” you gave him a warm smile as you shared the most vulnerable part of your life.

“you didn’t deserve that, seriously.” joe stroked your hair as he ate a few chips.

“the past is past. the pain is healed, and i’ve got the best boyfriend ever.”

joe kissed your forehead as the oven beeped after it was done pre-heating.

-

sitting on the couch with freshly baked blondies.

“i think you have some sort of magic on men.” joe said, taking a bite after.

“what?”

“you start dating a guy, then all of a sudden, he goes blonde.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“i’ve never thought of that. i’m just really that powerful then.”

sharing a laugh, you were proud of the person you became. the pain healed, and so did your heart.

because, in the end, your feelings are valid. and you learned a lesson that no matter how much something hurts you, you can find happiness somewhere else, for the better.

[whatthefishh]

take my breath

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; p in v, unprotected, cream pie, crying, makeup ruined, uhhh basically porn without plot lol! Straight smut.

700~ words

Miguel wants you to want him all the time, he wants you to leave his place with him on your mind. It started out with you not knowing much, he was the one who introduced you to the euphoria your body could bring you. Nobody else had ever made you feel the way he did, and slowly you became more comfortable with asking what you wanted from him. You could never refuse him either, his touch was too addicting.

Today you spent a little more time than you probably needed to get ready, his text earlier causing butterflies and making you second guess your outfit, applying a little more makeup than usual. It was pointless, though, because as soon as you walked through the door you began stripping your layers for him.

Before you knew it, you were under his looming frame on the mattress with your hips propped up on a pillow as he buried his length between your legs. You couldn’t help but moan obscenely on every stroke, his thickness overwhelming your senses so much that you were desperately searching for purchase on his back, nails digging in dangerously.

“Look at you, what a pretty little mess you are for me, princesa,” he rasped out, fingers leaving imprints on your hips.

You could only whine in response, too fucked out to be embarrassed at the way your makeup was ruined, your mascara running down your face from the hysterical tears he pulled from you.

“M-Miguel—“

“I know, baby, I know, but you look so good right now.”

And you do, you’re taking him so well, you’re so wet you can hear yourself. His eyes are trained on where he’s splitting you on his throbbing cock, chest puffing at the sight. Your cheeks burn from the shame of how fast you’re losing your shit.

Miguel didn’t even have time to play with your soaked folds before you were begging him to fill you up and now that he was, you were gushing all around him. Covering your face with your hands for some semblance of relief, he was quick to growl and lift one hand to pull your wrists back — in one hand, both your wrists fit in just one hand — scolding you for it.

“Why are you hiding from me, angel?”

Overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re near tears and Miguel can hear it in your voice when you beg him so sweetly.

“Shh, take it for me, just take it,” he coos at you while not relinquishing his hold on your wrists and continuing to torment you at his current pace.

Your breath comes out heavier and he’s watching your face change, and when his hand slides from your hip up to your breast to tweak a nipple between his fingers, you let out a shuddering exhale and come before you can help it.

“Fuuuuck, there you go, isn’t that what you needed? Always gonna take care of my girl,” he grunts as you pulsate over his girth.

Miguel bends at the waist after releasing your wrists, sinful mouth brushing your ear as he continues to grunt, uh uh uh, while he speeds up his thrusts to fuck into you harder, deeper. The heavy drag of his cock inside your soaked walls continues to coil in your tummy, the pleasure not fully faded from your veins and although your limbs feel like lead, you’re well on your way to your second orgasm.

He’s saying something in your ear, incoherent words of praise about your body, how wet and good you are for him, how he loves that he can wreck you; the words not fully making sense to you in your fucked out state but you pull him closer by his broad fucking shoulders as he sounds more and more feral.

His thrusts become sloppy and when he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, you cry out his name as your pussy flutters around him. And he’s right behind you, moaning unabashedly into your sweat slick skin while he thrusts his release into your core, the white liquid spilling out as he draws out his pleasure.

After a moment to catch his breath, Miguel turns over and pulls you onto his broad chest, still buried inside you. He rubs your arm and back with his hands, soothing your body with his surprisingly gentle touch after quite literally making you cry on his cock. He doesn’t kiss you, doesn’t talk to you much after, but this is enough for you. At this moment, he is enough for you and he doesn’t have to be anything more than that. With you, he never does.

[piratefishmama]

Just ONE chance | Part 2

“Are you gonna message him?” It was later in the evening, Rosie was in the living room watching some gameshow while Stevie sat at the kitchen island, having just finished cleaning up after dinner, Robin facing her through her phone, stuffing her face with what looked like French fries.

“Dusty thinks I should but… should I? It doesn’t feel too… I dunno, desperate? Cause I’m not desperate, I could not care less about dating rockstars, in fact before all this the idea of dating a rockstar would have never crossed my m—“

“Stevie” Robin cut her off “if anyone seems desperate right now, it’s him. It ain’t you, nobody in their right mind could think it was you. You were just doing your own damn thing and he cringe-failed so hard he broke the internet. Listen… you don’t have to do shit, EVEN IF Dustin is telling you to. Dustin doesn’t know everything.” Stevie bit her bottom lip in pensive thought, Robin on the other end of the video call stuffed another French fry into her mouth before asking, “do you want to though? That’s the important thing, do you want to?”

“I don’t KNOW, that’s the problem. It’s nice… I guess… to be wanted, but it’s not just about me anymore.” It was about Rosie. Stevie’s life wouldn’t be the only life impacted if she took that chance. Maybe if she were younger, maybe if she didn’t have Rosie things would be different, maybe she’d have been wild and jumped at it, but she had Rosie, and Rosie mattered way more to her than anything a stranger on the internet could give her.

“It’s a little bit about you, Stevie, and it’s okay to let it be about you. You’ve spent literal years putting yourself on the back burner, even Mike got hitched before you, like who called that?” Nobody. Nobody called that, even though he and Will had been dancing around each other since kindergarten, nobody would have called that. “We both know Billy wouldn’t have wanted you to be on your own like this either.”

“What if he’s weird about Rosie?”

“Then he hits the road, simple. I heard he’s good with kids though.” Stevie offered a look, a simple unimpressed raised brow “Whaaatt, okay fine I looked him up when I saw it all blowing up, call it me doing my sisterly duty. He’s weird, but in a harmless opossum kind a way, y’know? Like he probably scampers or something.”

“What about like… drugs… alcohol… shit I don’t want around Rosie?”

“According to his Wiki page, the whole band an issue with addiction in the early days, toxic music label, it was a huge legal mess, they all went to rehab, cut their old label an they’ve all been clean and sober since. Knowing you, like I do… I really do think you’d like him, and Rosie would love him too, He’s very… I dunno…”

Vickie, Robin’s fiancée, chose that exact moment to shove her face into view of the camera to announce, “He’s like a mix between Billy and Dustin, a suuuper-hot, but a huge nerd, you’d like him, definitely.”

A weird mix of Billy and Dustin. What a wild mental image.

“So you’re both on Dustin’s side then. I should message him?”

“It’s not our place to tell you what to do” Robin shrugged, she couldn’t tell her what to do, but she could offer a helpful suggestion of “maybe ask Rosie, she’s the only reason you’re hesitating and she’s old enough now to at least have an opinion, right?” Stevie looked toward the living room, where the glow of the TV bounced off the walls, Rosie’s laughter echoing from the other room.

“She already knows somethings up, Stevie, kids talk in school” Vickie reminded them “and Eddie’s… pretty famous, Corroded Coffin aren’t exactly unknown, an you’re not exactly unknown online either, someone’s bound to have mentioned it to her by now.” If the kids hadn’t, Dustin probably would eventually just to get her on his side before Stevie could get her on hers.

“Fine. But if this all blows up in my face, i’m revoking both your lunch privileges, for life.”

“What?! N—” Stevie cut their unison attempt to argue off with a well-timed click of the end call button, put her phone face down on the island top so she could ignore the incessant buzzing of them attempting to dial back, and made her way to the living room, where someone just face planted into a lovely pool of mud on the TV. Good ol gameshow night.

“Rosie…?” No time like the present. “Can we talk?”

It wasn’t often that Stevie interrupted gameshow night, usually they’d be watching it together, but Stevie had had other things on her mind, other much more pressing things that people didn’t seem to want to let die.

She was prepared to let them die, let this be a weird story of her ‘youth’ that she’d remember some day in a nursing home, a story nobody would believe but she’d swear blind happened!

A rockstar thought she was hot enough to send the internet into a meltdown one time. It happened, she swore it!

It wouldn’t die though. Not until she either told everyone to drop it, or entertained it.

“Sure, but uhm… if this is about the Eddie Munson thing—” she turned away from the TV to look at her mom “Uncle Dusty warned me about it way in advance, got me just before school started this morning.” Probably saved her from being ambushed about it by the kids at school. “It’s cool! He’s really cool, I mean, he’s super weird, huge nerd but… he seems nice”

Meddling little shit. Stevie took a breath, accepted this information, decided to deal with it later, and just powered through. “And you don’t think it’s unrealistic for everyone to think this is real?”

“It’s definitely real, mom. Uncle Dusty found his private account on your followers list, he’s been following you for aaaaaages,”

“Most people call that stalking.” How did Dustin even find it among the mass of others? Had Eddie been that obvious? Or was Dustin just that good?

“In the old days maybe! It’s almost romantic nowadays. You should message him, before Uncle Dusty does, cause he will. We both know he will.” Dustin had been uncomfortably absent all day since bursting in without warning. Stevie hadn’t even thought of it as a red flag until Rosie mentioned it ought to be. “It’s time, mom. It’s okay.”

“You’re really okay with it? It’s not crazy?”

“Oh, it’s SUPER crazy, but it’s a cool crazy, my mom’s gonna date thee Eddie Munson cause he begged you to, it’s the best kind of nuts, I wonder if he’d teach me how to play guitar…”

Had Eddie Munson actually asked anyone before he opened those DM’s, anyone at all, because he didn’t really consult the band as to what he was going to DO on the band's accounts, they’d have probably told him not to do that.

And they’d have been correct!

Because everyone and their mother, and even some fathers, decided to shoot a shot they never had!

He didn’t just get one DM, no, he got… many. Many. People messaged asking for autographs, merch, people asked for tickets, some offered themselves if Stevie didn’t message, some offered to DRESS UP as Stevie for him, a few went with Eddie’s own plan simply messaging with a plea for just ONE chance for themselves.

For hours. Hours. He scrolled through those messages.

Sure, he could have gotten someone to do it for him, but he’d done everything else on the account by himself, so he’d tackle the DMs too. He’d delete them, one by one, everything that wasn’t relevant to his quest, making sure to view each one, even if they did surprise him in their creativity, because what if she had a private account like he did? What if she actually recognised her popularity and created a tiny incognito safe haven from it all like he did?

She didn’t though.

She didn’t have one.

She didn’t need one.

At least that was what he gathered at the end of the long list of DMs, she didn’t have a private, she just had her main one, and she hadn’t sent him anything from it.

He knew it was a long shot, he could have had all the fame and fortune in the world, it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t interested in it all and she clearly didn’t seem to be if what Chrissy had said was true. She didn’t do sponsored posts; she wasn’t aiming for fame and fortune. She lived a comfortable life with her kid, and just happened to be popular on the internet.

She didn’t owe him anything, he didn’t deserve an answer, he—

Bzzt-bzzt

He snatched his phone right back up lightning fast, swiped down the notifications bar, and with wide eyes read the first line of the message he’d been sent,

“PLEASE HEAR ME OUT I’M STEVIE’S BROTHER, DUSTIN.”

Eddie wasn’t about to claim Stevie didn’t have a brother. He didn’t know if Stevie had a brother, just that Stevie had a sister because the sister, Robin, had turned up in a video once, bursting in on a live in the early days to accidentally announce to the world that ‘Vickie’ was now single.

It could be a trick, it could be a way in, it could be literally anything, what Eddie knew for sure though, was that it was the closest he’d gotten to potentially speaking to Stevie.

So, he did the only thing he could think of.

He replied, “prove it.”

The reply came through quickly, almost like this mysterious brother was waiting by the phone in hopes Eddie would be there to receive his message. It was a photo of a polaroid. Grainy as it was, it was clearly a younger, frankly stunning Stevie with a barely-there baby bump, reaching back to a guy who was leaning over her with a ridiculously stacked sandwich, she looked happy, she looked lovestruck, she glowed, and for a moment, jealousy struck him as if he were some childish teenager.

This was likely her child’s father, the one who was no longer in the picture for some unknown reason. She’d never disclosed why. He looked happy too though so… there were more questions than answers at that point.

Plus, the Polaroid had a scrawled “Stevie domesticated Satan” on the white part with a little devil face so, many questions, very few answers.

With the image, however, came the caption “I took this when she was pregnant with Rosie, it’s the last photo we have of Billy, Rosie’s dad.”

Rosie… Stevie had a little girl.

Another photo followed, this one of Stevie and a younger boy with curly hair, the kid all dressed up in a brown suit, hair done up to the nines, probably for some kind of party. No pregnancy in sight, they were both beaming at the camera, the kid with an awful lot of metal in his mouth but, adorable. The Polaroid had “Snowball!!!” scribbled on the white part, followed by a message reading “my mom took tons of photos of us for the Snowball dance back when I was in middle school, Stevie helped me do my hair” so the kid was supposed to be this ‘brother’ of hers.

A final photo was sent, this one clearer, obviously taken on a phone of what looked like a grade graduation ceremony, a more recent image of Stevie, with her daughter, and an older version of the kid from the snowball picture. Captioned with the message “only family could get so many family pictures!” 

The next message came through without a photo “we’re not related by birth, she was my babysitter for years before circumstances got her adopted by my mom. I’m oversharing a lot and she’s probably gonna kick my ass for it BUT I think she’d like you if she gave you a chance so I’m building a bridge of communication!”

Oh yeah, this guy had meddling little brother energy for days.

Eddie quickly typed back, “thanks for your vote of confidence, man but she isn’t giving me a chance here, you are, it’s not up to anyone but her.”

Typing—typing—tyyyyyping “she just doesn’t know you, an she’s hesitating cause of Rosie, I could probably get you a meet up though!”

“What like, ambushing her in the wild?”

“It’d work!”

“Sounds like it’d get me slapped by both her, and a restraining order an neither are good for my public image, or my feelings.” He then quickly added, before ‘Dustin’ could argue “Listen dude as much as I appreciate this, an I do, I’m real touched by your approval, it means the world to me, at the end of the day, it’s up to her. You can’t make this decision for her, alright?”

The typing stopped, then started again, and then stopped. Then finally “fine, but can you leave your DMs open for a little longer? She’s got Rosie to consider so she may just need to think about it a bit longer.”

“Deal.” He’d leave them open for one more day, after that he’d just have to accept the loss, accept that she didn’t want him, cause she sure as shit didn’t need him, and move on with his life.

Dustin sent him one last emoji, a little salute, and that was that for the rest of the night. There were a few more pings, opportunists, but nothing from the person who mattered most. He deleted them, switched his phone to silent, and took his disappointed little self to bed.

It wasn’t that late but, he was done for the day.

He was tired.

[cutielando]

hi! i was wondering if you could write an imagine with jj x reader kinda based of the scene jb and sarah “marry” each other when they were on the boat

married life | j.m.

a/n: thank you so much for sending this in!❤️

my masterlist

Times were tough.

By this point in your life, you had gone through what other people never have to experience ever in their lives, let alone at such a young age.

You thought you would finally have some peace and quiet after Big John had come back. That things would finally have a sense of normality again.

But that was far from the case.

Ever since you head Big John’s plans to fine the mythical city of El Dorado and the gold, your blood had run cold in your veins.

You loved Big John, he was like a father figure to JJ and a protector to all of you, but this was taking it a step too far.

You had already put yourself in harm's way a number of times for your friends, giving your parents one too many reasons to completely disown you for the stress you would cause them.

Telling them that you were going to another continent to search for a city full of golf that might not even exist? They would murder you before you'd even get the words out of your mouth.

JJ, surprisingly, felt the same way.

He loved John B like a brother and saw Big John as his father figure, but even he could admit that the old man's tales sounded far too amazing to be a reality.

And, as much as he would want to go for the sake of his friends, he didn't want to take you with them, and he didn't want to leave you behind either. So, in his books, he couldn't possibly go with his friend and leave you unattended at home.

This sparked many conversations between you two, analyzing the situation and the spot you were in dozens of times. Searching desperately for an answer, for the universe to tell you what the right thing to do was.

But no answer ever came, so you were stuck trying to figure it out by yourselves.

"Are we being bad friends by wanting to stick back here?" you had asked JJ one night while the two of you were relaxing in the hammock installed in your backyard.

"We're just looking out for ourselves, like any sane person would. I don't want to put you in more unnecessary danger than I already have, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Plus, you heard what John B said, he doesn't want us to go with them" he explained, twirling locks of your hair around his finger.

You sighed, nodding into his chest.

He was right, nobody should be mad at you guys for thinking about your safety, for once. You were trying to become more responsible, and this was the first step that would help you do that.

"I'd like to go, as far as one would want to leave their life behind to go on a deadly quest for a city of gold that might not exist, but my parents would definitely murder me if I told them about it" you joked, making the both of you laugh.

"They would murder me first for letting you even think about it, let's be honest" he added, making you laugh even harder.

As funny as that was to the two of you in that moment, he was right. Your parents were counting on JJ to keep you safe when they weren't around, and even though he had done exactly that even in your adventures, they would prefer it if you didn't leave home like that ever again.

"Thank you for keeping me safe all this time" you said softly, turning around so you were face-to-face with your boyfriend.

He smiled cheekily, thinking of a witty comeback, but he gave up once he saw the look of completely love you were giving him.

"It's my job, and it's not like you didn't take care of me either. I would have gone insane on that island if it weren't for you. We protected each other, and we're always going to look out for one another no matter what happens" he kissed your forehead, pulling away to look at you.

The bond you two shared is something nobody could ever understand.

You met at a time when you were both in a dark place, but especially JJ, because of his father. You were the first person not to run away when he completely broke down into your arms, telling you about all of the things his father had done to him over the years.

There was not even a second when you contemplated leaving him, or giving up on him. You couldn't imagine living in a world where he wasn't yours, right by your side and ready to tackle anything life threw at him with you by his side.

He was truly your one and only, the person that you wanted to grow old with and have children with, the only man you could ever love in this life.

The realization hit you like a tsunami, making your brain stop functioning and having a mind of its own.

Which is why the next words that stumbled out of your mouth shocked the both of you to the core.

"Let's get married"

JJ thought he had heard you wrongly at first. Surely, you couldn't actually mean that you wanted to get married, right?

You were both so young, and you always spoke about how you wanted to wait until at least 20 years old to get married.

"What?" JJ asked, chuckling a little to ease the tension.

In any other case, you would be embarrassed to the ends of the Earth, just asking him to forget you'd ever said anything.

But right now, in this moment, you were more confident than ever in your words.

"I don't mean that we actually go and get married, not yet anyway. But just between us, something only we are going to know. Be unofficially officially married. We don't need rings, we can just tie pieces of the bandana you gave me on your first date around our necks or something as a sign of our commitment to each other" you explained quickly, getting excited and unwrapping the bandana you always kept on your arm.

JJ chuckled, watching you scramble to tear thin pieces of the bandana for the both of you.

He didn't want to admit, but he loved you more in that moment than he had ever before. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you, shout from the rooftops that you're his and only his. So how could he ever think to deny you?

"I would love nothing more than to marry you" he whispered, giving you a long kiss before taking the bandana and wrapping it around your neck, you doing the same to him.

The feeling that you had that night was like nothing you had ever experienced.

As you sat with JJ under the starry night, limbs intertwined and hushed promises and kisses exchanged, there was nowhere you would rather be.

In JJ's arms.

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[mobbu-min]

☆ Pretty Boy ☆

summary: in which, you're asked who you thought was the prettiest boy and not even a second later you respond with his name. unknowingly leaving him a flustered mess.

a/n: long time no see guys! but here's a little thing I worked on. school literally been beating my ass fr

characters: every housewarden

!tw! insecurities, grammar mistakes im too lazy to fix

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ Riddle's face erupts in a spectrum of red. He’s far too shocked to do anything other than stare agape at the wall.

⋆ Prettiest boy? Him?

⋆ Surely you must be joking. But, you sounded so convinced. You said so fast and bluntly, that surely it's not a joke. That you mean it, right? Right?

⋆ Either way, this boy does not know how to act. He’s going through all stages of denial and acceptance. He’s planning and unplanning how this could turn out for the both of you. He’s anxiously biting at his lip, picking at the loose threads of his blazer. Trying desperately hard to get back on track. Silently cursing(not really) you out for getting him off his game.

⋆ A part of him, a side he keeps hidden, deeply wishes that you meant it with all your heart. Because, he thinks you're very pretty too.

“Prefect, perhaps if you are not busy this coming weekend, you and I could get together.- What will we do? Well I planned a little stroll through the gardens, just you and I of course, and then after, we’ll get dinner- excuse me?…A-a date?! Am I asking you out on a date!?……..Well, if you’d be up to it, then yes. Yes I am.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ Leona knows he’s good looking. Annoyingly so.

⋆ But to hear you say he was the prettiest boy in all of NCR? Oh boy, his ego is twice its original size. (ha! take that vil!)

⋆ And no, he’s not smiling like a lovesick school girl because of you. Hell to the no. He just saw Malleus fall on his face, actually….SToP LoOKiNG At HiM!

⋆ Does he take your response as truth? Yes. Is he going to bring it up to you and embarrass you just for kicks and giggles? Absolutely, yes. Will he ever confess? ……probably, but first, call him pretty again.

“Pretty? Hmm, I’d prefer attractive, or down right smokin hot. But y’know, I don’t mind pretty if it’s coming from you. Hmmm? Don’t tell me my little herbivore is shy now? C’mon move those hands and let me see your pretty face.”

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ This has to be one of Jade and Floyd’s pranks, right?

⋆ It was in fact not a prank, judging by the two background characters he’s never seen before.

⋆ Okay, it is confirmed that it is indeed not a prank. What now? Well obvi, stage two, embarrassment and quickly approaching stage three, denial!

⋆ Skipping those two stages, because for goodness sake Azul! Get a hang of yourself, man!

⋆ He quickly tries to think of a plan, a contract perhaps. Wait no, last time he tried that, you threatened to hide his cane and glasses. There has to be another way to…to…to….well, he’ll think of that later.

⋆ For right now, Azul is practically glowing in his seat.

“I couldn’t help but overhear, but tonight Monstro Lounge is having an event. Of course, you’re not forced to come, but I’d like to show a better side of me-I mean, my business! If you’ll allow it, that is.”

Kalim Al-Asim <3

⋆ Pretty! You just called him the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen! 

⋆ Kalim is over the moon, Jamil has to go and get him down, and practically bursting at the seams. It takes him everything not to glomp you into a bone crushing hug right then and there.

⋆ But he wants to be slow with how he approaches you. Wants to take his time and plan a nice quiet-Yeah like that actually going to happen! Kalim throws a large ass party, nobody knows what it's for besides Jamil, and of course you're the guest-of-honor!

⋆ All of your favorites are there! Everything you could ever hope for lovingly set out and planned for you. 

⋆ Kalim hopes this will express his feelings for you and show how happy your comment made him. If not, expect to be dragged in the middle of the party off to a magic carpet ride through the night sky.

⋆ You may be marveling at the pretty sky and stars, but Kalim’s eyes will never leave your pretty face.

“Wasn’t that fun! Let’s do it again! -What? You’re tired? Well that’s no good! Come on, let's have a sleepover. I promise you’ll have the best sleep of your life!- But first, mwah! A pre-good night kiss! Don’t worry there's plenty of more where that came from!”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ Smug, if there was one word to describe Vil, it would be smug. 

⋆ Of course, you’d answer with his name! He is the fairest of them all! You were state fact! Nothing but the truth!

⋆ So, why does his knees feel so weak? Why does his face feel warm? And most importantly, why does his heart feel like he just ran a marathon? 

⋆ Well never mind that, Vil will not let your little praise get to his head and mess up his whole routine. And yet, as he readies himself for bed, Vil can’t help but linger on your words. Linger on the way your eyes softened and head shyly turned to hide in your shoulder. 

⋆ And then those feelings return and Vil can’t do anything to stop them. Like acne it infests his heart and turns it to a bloody red. However, unlike acne, Vil doesn’t want to get rid of it..

"My sweet potato, if you ever feel down, feel free to come to me for assistance. I would love to show you some latest skin and hair products for you to try. And I would be more than happy to demonstrate it for you. Hmm? Ace said that your skin has been looking like Riddle’s face? How rude of that unripe spudling, like he looks any better! Ahem, I mean, perhaps you’d like to take up the offer now then? I’ll be making smoothies.”

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ …pretty….you just called him pretty….system overloading…system crashed…pew…pew…pew…pew…sjdpsjsjlaoap

⋆ There's not a single response from Idia for like five minutes. People think he's a literal statue, birds even start building nests on him for crying out loud! It's that bad.

⋆ But once he gets his system loading properly, oh boy, he let's out the loudest, most high pitched, scream, you think he's getting murder(or seeing someone in the first time in months) He's a whole ass volcano fr.

⋆ He doesn't get it. He really really doesn't and now he thinks you're weird, like really fuckin weird. 

⋆ Because he's not pretty. Vils pretty, Mega super dragon boss is pretty, that blue hair normie you hang out with, he's pretty, hell even you, yourself, is pretty! But Idia?

⋆ Yeah, he's scheduling you an eye appointment asap.

⋆ Idia doesn't get you and he never will, at least not yet. He doesn't get what you see in him, why you thought he was the prettiest boy you've ever seen, but for some reason that night, when Ortho was charging and it was just him alone, he could finally look at himself in the mirror and not be repulsed with who looked back at him.

⋆ For once, he finally saw himself as Idia, the prettiest boy in your eyes.

‘A-are you available tonight? Eh? W-w-why?!....oh, ummm, there’s a new game that's coming out and I…I wanted to know if you wanted to be my player 2!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ Hmm, how strange of you. You never cease to surprise him.

⋆ Malleus is used to being called a gallery of different names. He’s heard it all. Pretty being a rare one in the collection. He’s much more used to being called handsome, but pretty? Well, Malleus could get used to that. Especially if it's coming from you. 

⋆ Malleus is the one to confront you right after. Thank you for your kind words, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered and cheeks flushed, and promptly disappearing. He’s not sure what exactly to do with this...feeling. It's the first for him, so he finds himself thinking he might have gotten ill. Perhaps, your kindness is truly infectious, like Sebek says. 

⋆ However, do not fret! Papi Lilia is on his way to do whatever he does best!

⋆ Malleus is surprised, yet he isn’t in denial or flustered, he’s actually at ease. Relaxed really. Because he can finally put a name to this feeling that infects his heart every time you're around. He knows why his heart felt like it was on fire and why his knees felt weak. 

⋆ Because you have infected him, you've been cursed with a disease called love. A disease Malleus doesn’t mind living with as long as he stays the prettiest boy in your eyes. 

"You’re quite lovely yourself, my dear Child of Man. Stunning really. You put the stars to shame, the wonders of the Universe to shame, the most stunning jewels are nothing compared to the twinkling of your eyes. My dear, you say I’m pretty, however I believe you're down right gorgeous."

[brucewaynehater101]

i'm gonna be real idk if your the right person to go for young justice core four headcanons but you give the best replies by far so heres my own idea idea

I was listening to the Roblox Soundfont remix and now the og Gone Angels and now I'm thinking . . .

Tim became Robin to prevent Batman from ceasing to be the symbol of heroism and good he started off as

The symbol that spiraled into destruction of even the self with Jason Todd's death

imagine a world where Red Robin becomes the very thing he swore to destroy with his own death

he dies along with Bart and Kon. Cassie due to this and maybe other factors fucking looses it, Batman post-Jason's death but pre-Tim becoming Robin style

or maybe instead he dies but the rest of the core four lives. either way Cassie still looses it, by herself or with her other teammates

And maybe, just maybe, they get nobody to be the Third Robin to their Batman, no Third Robin to Tim's Second Robin

likely improbably in canon but the idea of Cassie and maybe even Bart and Kon having a villain arc (maybe Black Silence style) is too good of an idea not to share

(Side note; imagine a Gone Angels cover where the survivor(s) sing and for the itallian lyrics in the midway point the deceased sing)

((extra side note: imagine this is what gets Batman and maybe the other Bats to reflect on the time before and after Tim become robin, post Jason's death; seeing their history repeat with Young Justice))

((hell maybe the Justice League realizes as wells))

"you give the best replies by far." Thank you. Sometimes, it takes a bit to reply to asks cause I'm taking a few hours to really answer the prompts/ideas/questions people pose. I also sleep at random times, so apologizes in advance to any asks that take a while!

My image of YJ is a codependent platonic polycule. They are Young Just Us because they didn't receive proper support from their mentors. This is part of why Cassie and Tim fell apart after Kon and Bart died. This is why, in their own weird ways, both of them tried to get a form of Kon back. Tim tried the scientist cloning avenue, and Cassie tried the cult.

If you want Tim's death to inspire Cassie and YJ to go evil, might I suggest Tim sending proof of Bruce being alive in the timestream and then succumbing to his spleen injury (perhaps an infection)? This would create a delicious amount of angst, anger, and mental breakdowns.

Cassie, the only nonretired YJ member alive at the time, didn't believe Tim about Bruce being alive. This was in part due to the cloning stuff but also in part to trusting Nightwing (or Batman at the time). If Tim didn't make it out of that alive, Cassie may be desperate to find anyone to blame but herself for that. She was a kid, she was lost in her own grief, and Tim should have had the support of literally any other hero.

The entire hero community turned against a teenager in his time of need that he resorted to conspiring with the LoA and ended up losing his life. Whether she chooses to be mad about nobody believing him (Tim's possibly a better detective than Bruce and people have revived before, but his evidence at the time was flimsy), she can be very pissed that not a single hero offered to help him. They didn't even need to trust in Tim's decision. They could have just accompanied Tim until the teen gave up or proved himself right. They could have treated it as a grief road trip while Tim found himself.

Anyways, losing the last nonretired YJ member that way may cause her to just snap. The JL was already on thin ice with the YJ for their lack of support to her generation of heroes. Them failing YJ enough that two children died in the field and one died as a direct result of their actions? She would, rightfully, loathe the JL. On top of that, she does already not trust the government for what they did to Secret. If she can't prosecute the JL, she'll become their enemy.

Cassie lost all of her main polycule. She wants revenge.

After Bart and Kon come back, they see how JL left Cassie and what they did to Tim. Cassie is part of their ride or die, and she has been treated so horribly. Tim has died. They obviously join her.

Now, with Bart there to give evil ideas (Bart is the scariest member of YJ and you can't convince me otherwise), YJ is a force to be reckoned with. Maybe some of the other members come out of retirement, maybe not. They would be unstoppable with Tim helping them, but that's the problem. They don't have Tim. Tim isn't there to help them nor hold them back. That's why they became "evil" anyway.

I like to imagine someone, probably Nightwing, screaming at them from across the battlefield. "This isn't what he would have wanted! He became Robin to stop Batman from destroying everything. This is the antithesis of why he became a hero!"

For a split second, YJ would pause. There's merit in those words, after all. Cassie would recover first as she shakes her head. "He became a hero to be the leash to Batman's rage. He's not here now. He's not here to temper our rage, and you did that. You abandoned a child." She plants her feet more firmly and points her sword at Nightwing. "We won't let you do that again."

It's dealers choice on whether YJ win the battle or not. Also, I do believe YJ would be obsessed with trying to bring Tim back. Perhaps some of their evil deeds truly stem from them trying to find ways to bring back Tim. They are incomplete without him just as they were incomplete without Kon or Bart and would be without Cassie.

Now, is Tim actually alive or does he stay dead? Did Ra's revive him using the Pit? Did Ra's lie or misguide the Bats while keeping Tim hostage? Will Tim come back, either after being brainwashed by Ra's or escaping, to find his platonic polycule has officially lost it and turned evil?