#needing to tag that just to be clear sorry ><< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[inseobts]

Heartstrings pt.2

trafalgar law x reader

part 1 - part 3

amid the chaos of punk hazard, you reunite with trafalgar law, stirring old memories, buried emotions, and a shared past haunted by corazon’s death. but there's no time to dwell—doflamingo’s name resurfaces, and this time, you refuse to let history repeat itself.

tags: punk hazard and dressrosa spoilers I guess, angst to fluff, childhood friends, slow burn

a/n: this isn't really what happened in the anime/manga but I couldn't remember it all and couldn't make it too long lmao

word count: 3.4k

masterlist || ko-fi

You don’t know how long you stand there, wrapped around Law like you’re afraid he’ll vanish. Maybe a few seconds. Maybe a lifetime.

All you know is that for the first time in years, the weight on your chest feels just a little lighter.

Eventually, though, Law shifts.

You feel it before he actually moves, the slight tension returning to his frame, the way his fingers twitch like he’s restraining himself. And then, with a sigh, he pulls away.

Not all at once. It’s slow, almost reluctant. But it happens. And you let him.

Because even if he won’t say it, you know this was a lot for him.

He clears his throat, glancing away, shoving his hands back into his pockets. His usual mask slides back into place, the unreadable, too-cool-to-care captain of the Heart Pirates.

But you don’t miss the slight red tint at the tips of his ears.

“You done being dramatic?” he mutters.

You snort, rolling your eyes “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I ruin your broody loner aesthetic?”

Law gives you a flat look “You ruined it the second you showed up.”

You grin “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He mutters something under his breath but you catch it.

“…Should’ve known you’d be like this.”

And for the first time in a while, you feel lighter.

The mood doesn’t stay light for long.

Dressrosa looms ahead.

The tension on the ship shifts the moment the island comes into view. The crew gathers on the deck, eyes fixed on the landmass in the distance.

Even Luffy, who’s usually oblivious to tension, seems unusually serious.

You stand beside Law, arms crossed, heart pounding.

“We have a plan,” Law says, addressing the Straw Hats. His voice is level, but you can hear the edge beneath it “We need to be careful. Doflamingo isn’t someone you can take lightly.”

Luffy grins, cracking his knuckles “We’re taking him down, right? Sounds simple to me.”

You groan “Luffy... this isn’t a bar fight, this is—”

“—war,” Law finishes, cutting you off. His gaze flickers to you for a second before returning to the others “And we can’t afford to lose.”

You swallow hard.

Lose.

You don’t like that word. Because losing means watching everything fall apart. It means losing more people.

It means losing Law, and you’re not letting that happen.

Luffy, of course, is completely unfazed “We won’t lose.” He grins, full of confidence, full of that ridiculous faith of his “We’ve got you and Y/N with us, right?”

You blink “Huh?”

Luffy just laughs “You and Law are like, super serious about this guy. It’s personal, yeah?”

Your stomach twists.

Law goes rigid.

Luffy doesn’t seem to notice. He just grins wider “Then we’ll win for sure.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Law doesn’t either.

But when you glance at him, when your eyes meet there’s something unspoken there, something that means, we’re in this together.

No matter what happens next.

The Thousand Sunny docks at Green Bit, just off Dressrosa’s coast. The island is as beautiful as it is deceptive with its bright skies, warm air, a paradise hiding a monster beneath.

Law stands at the railing, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the distant city. You don’t need to ask what he’s thinking.

You already know.

You step beside him “We’re really doing this.”

Law doesn’t respond right away. Then, in a quiet voice, he says, “It’s not too late for you to stay behind.”

You scoff “Are you serious?”

“I don’t want you involved more than you have to be.”

You stare at him “Law, I’ve been looking for you for years. I followed every scrap of news, chased every rumor, just to find out if you were still alive—and now you think I’m gonna just sit this out?”

Law’s fingers twitch at his sides. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Your voice softens “I’m not leaving you to fight this alone.”

His jaw tightens. But he doesn’t argue.

Because he knows you won’t back down.

Because deep down, he doesn’t want you to.

The plan is set.

Law, Usopp, and Robin will exchange Caesar for their end of the deal with Doflamingo. Meanwhile, Luffy and the others will head into Dressrosa.

Simple.

At least, it’s supposed to be.

You’re supposed to stay with Luffy’s group. That was the agreement.

But as you step onto Dressrosa’s streets, surrounded by laughter, music, the scent of fresh food filling the air, you feel like your skin is on fire.

Like you’re walking straight into the past.

Like he’s watching you already.

You swallow hard.

Luffy is already distracted by the town’s wonders (and the scent of meat). The crew is focused on blending in. But you... you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

That something is waiting for you.

Your stomach churns. Your fists clench.

And before you know it you’re running.

Ignoring Luffy’s shout behind you. Ignoring the looks you get from people on the street.

You don’t stop.

Not until you reach the one place you know Law is supposed to be, because something tells you you don’t have time to wait.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you race through Dressrosa’s streets. The sun is bright, the people are laughing, but to you, it’s all wrong.

Your instincts scream at you that something isn’t right.

Law is walking into Doflamingo’s hands.

And you’re not about to let that happen.

You weave through the crowd, nearly knocking over a vendor’s cart. The shopkeeper yells after you, but you don’t care. You have one goal.

Find him.

You don’t know how long you run before you finally spot Law, Usopp, and Robin, standing near the bridge to Green Bit.

You barely slow down before skidding to a stop in front of them, panting “Law—!”

Law’s eyes snap to you immediately, sharp and questioning “What are you doing here?”

Robin and Usopp look confused, but you don’t have time to explain.

“You can’t go through with this” you blurt out.

Law’s expression hardens “We don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, we do!” You step closer, your chest tightening “You think Doflamingo’s just going to let this trade happen? You think he’s going to honor any kind of deal? It’s a trap, Law.”

Law doesn’t flinch. He just stares at you, completely unreadable.

“I know.”

You freeze “What?”

“I know it’s a trap,” he says calmly, like it doesn’t even matter “But we don’t have any other options.”

You feel like you’ve been punched.

“Then why are you walking into it?!” you snap, grabbing his coat “I didn’t come all this way just to watch him take you again!”

Law’s golden eyes widen, just for a second.

Then his expression shifts.

“…Take me again?”

Your breath catches.

Shit.

You didn’t mean to say that.

Law doesn’t look away “You think I wouldn’t fight?” his voice is low, measured “You think I’d let him take me?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?”

You bite your lip, frustration bubbling in your chest “I meant—”

I meant I can’t lose you.

I meant I’ve been chasing after you for years, and I only just got you back, and I can’t... ugh

You swallow hard, shaking your head “I meant I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Law exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

He doesn’t deny it.

But then, his expression darkens. He steps closer, voice quieter “This isn’t just about me. It never was.”

You know what he means.

Corazon.

Doflamingo.

Everything you lost.

Everything he lost.

You take a slow breath “…I’m coming with you.”

Law doesn’t argue. But his jaw tightens.

You don’t have to wait long.

The moment Law steps onto Green Bit’s bridge to make the exchange with Doflamingo, the air turns heavy.

The jungle hums with life, but everything else is too quiet. Too still.

You tense, standing just behind Law, Usopp, and Robin. Your eyes scan the treeline, your stomach twisting.

Then the sound of footsteps. And a voice you haven’t heard in years.

“Well, well…”

Your blood freezes.

A shadow steps out from the trees, a tall figure in pink feathers, grinning like a demon.

Doflamingo.

His sunglasses gleam in the light, his expression unreadable until his gaze lands on you.

He stops dead.

“…Oh?”

You grip your fists, trying not to react.

Law tenses beside you, his hand already on Kikoku.

Doflamingo’s grin widens.

“Well, now THIS is a surprise.” His voice is mocking, laced with amusement “I thought you were dead.”

Your stomach churns, but you keep your face blank “Sorry to disappoint.”

Doflamingo laughs. A low, slow chuckle, like this is the most interesting thing that’s happened all day.

His eyes flick to Law.

“Didn’t know you were the sentimental type, Corazon’s little brat.”

Law’s grip tightens on his sword “Shut up.”

Doflamingo ignores him. His grin turns sharp, wolfish.

“Now it makes sense. I always wondered what kept you going after Corazon died.” His sunglasses flash as he tilts his head “Tell me, Law… how long have you been dragging your little lover into your mess?”

Your brain short-circuits “Excuse me?”

Law visibly twitches “She’s not—”

“Oh, come on.” Doflamingo smirks, stepping forward “The way you’re standing in front of her? The way she’s glaring at me like she’s ready to rip my throat out? Cute.”

Your face burns.

You point at him, scowling “First of all, you’re disgusting. Second, if I wanted you dead, you’d already be bleeding.”

Doflamingo grins wider “Spicy. No wonder Law likes you.”

Law looks murderous.

Usopp, watching from the sidelines, whispers, “Uh. Should we be here for this?”

Robin hums “It’s getting interesting.”

Meanwhile, you’re seething “Don’t act like you know anything about me.”

Doflamingo just laughs again “Oh, but I do. I remember everything, little one.” His voice drops, something darker curling beneath it.

“I remember how Corazon used to look at you two.”

Your breath catches.

Law goes rigid.

Doflamingo grins “You were both his stupid, dumb kids.”

The world feels smaller, colder.

Because you remember it too.

Corazon’s laughter. His warmth. The way he used to ruffle Law’s hair, the way he used to pull you into his coat when you were cold.

The way he died for you both.

Law’s voice is low, dangerous “Enough.”

Doflamingo chuckles “What? Can’t handle the truth?”

Your hands shake. Not from fear but from rage.

You clench your fists, stepping forward “You have no right to talk about him.”

Doflamingo smiles lazily, but his eyes are sharp “Oh, but you do?”

The words sting.

Because for years, you avoided this. Avoided thinking too hard about Corazon, about Law, about everything you lost.

You ran.

And now, it’s caught up to you.

Law moves before you can.

His sword is out, his stance set. “We’re done here.”

Doflamingo tilts his head “Oh, I don’t think so.”

And then everything happens at once.

The bridge shakes. Threads of white string shoot toward you.

And before you can react Law grabs your arm and shambles you away.

Your vision blurs. One moment, you’re staring at Doflamingo’s smug face, the next, you’re standing on the other side of the bridge.

Too far from Law.

“Damn it—!” You whip around, just in time to see threads cut through the air where you’d just been. Thin, deadly, fast.

Law dodges, barely. But his coat tears, a red line appearing on his arm.

Doflamingo laughs “Tch, still quick on your feet.”

Your stomach twists. Law is alone over there.

And Doflamingo is still smiling.

You move without thinking.

But the second you take a step forward more strings fly.

“Shit!” You barely dodge, hitting the ground in a roll. The threads slice through the bridge like butter.

Doflamingo tilts his head at you “You should be careful. I might start to think you care.”

Your teeth grind “Oh, screw you.”

Law snaps his fingers “Room.”

A blue sphere expands. He teleports to your side in an instant, his hand grabbing your wrist, tight, grounding.

“You’re reckless” he mutters.

You glare up at him “Like you’re any better?”

Law doesn’t answer. But his grip doesn’t loosen either.

Doflamingo clicks his tongue “You two really are inseparable, gives me a good idea.”

He lifts a hand and suddenly, the sky turns white.

Threads spread above you like a spider’s web, casting a shadow over the bridge.

Your heart races.

Doflamingo smiles “Let’s see if Corazon’s little brats can survive this.”

Then he brings his hand down and the web falls.

You barely see it happen.

Law’s beside you, his hand wrapped tight around your wrist, his breath ragged with effort, “Room” stretched to its limit.

Snap.

A glint of string. A flicker of movement.

And then you’re gone.

The air leaves your lungs as you’re yanked backward, the force like a hook in your gut. You scream, twisting, but the threads around your limbs are too tight. They bite into your skin, slicing deeper with every movement.

You hear Law shout your name. Hear the panic, raw and sharp in his voice.

But it’s too late.

Doflamingo is smiling.

The next thing you know, you’re slammed onto cold stone. Disoriented. Gasping.

You’re inside some kind of ornate chamber, gaudy, too gold, too bright. A palace dressed in blood.

You’re in his domain now.

Doflamingo stands above you, relaxed, calm, like this is just another game. His threads retract into his fingers with lazy grace.

“You know,” he drawls, brushing imaginary dust off his coat, “I wasn’t planning on taking any souvenirs today.”

You glare up at him, trying to get your limbs under you “I’m not a souvenir.”

He laughs amused “No, no. You’re something else, aren’t you?”

He crouches beside you, sunglasses gleaming. His grin is all teeth “You're Law’s little shadow, just as the good old times.”

You jerk back instinctively, but you’re still bound. His strings have you like shackles.

“You should’ve seen his face instead of fainting like an idiot” Doflamingo continues, voice smooth and cruel “Utter panic. I never saw him like that.”

You go still.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. And he’s enjoying every second of it.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he says, tilting his head like he’s studying a curiosity “You think you’re just part of this little rebellion. But you—you’re actually Law’s weakness right now. I can use Corazon’s name a million times to make Law lose control but you… you could do so much better than just that ghost.”

You don’t speak. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

He stands, turning his back to you like he’s already won “I wonder what he’ll do to get you back.”

Your chest twists because you know Law will come for you and that’s exactly what Doflamingo wants.

He gestures with one hand and the threads yank you to your feet. Your body screams in protest, muscles burning.

He leans in close.

“You two aren’t subtle, you know,” he murmurs, low and mocking “The way he looks at you? Like he’d burn the world down just to keep you breathing.”

You snap, “He’s not—”

But Doflamingo cuts you off with a smirk “Oh, but he is, little one.”

His smile turns cold “And now I have you.”

He strides to the door, tossing a glance over his shoulder “Make yourself comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

The door slams shut and you’re alone. Bleeding. Furious... Afraid.

Meanwhile Law stands in the rubble, chest heaving, blood running down his side. His haki’s fading. And you’re not there.

He’s frozen, staring at the empty space where you’d been just seconds ago.

Gone.

Doflamingo’s laughter still echoes in the trees.

Robin and Usopp are shouting, but Law doesn’t hear them.

He only hears your name.

His hand clenches around Kikoku’s hilt. Now, you are alone and it’s his fault.

You’re still in the palace when the explosion hits.

The walls tremble. A distant boom echoes through the stone. You stumble, heart racing... they’re here.

Luffy. Law.

They’re fighting him.

Your chest tightens.

You don’t know how long you’ve been here, trapped in this golden hell, toyed with like you’re just another one of Doflamingo’s games. But now, the tides are changing.

You can feel it.

Chaos tears through Dressrosa.

Luffy and Law crash through the palace in a storm of fury and fire, slamming into Doflamingo with every ounce of rage they’ve buried for years.

“You really don’t learn, do you?” Doflamingo sneers, flicking blood from his lips “Even together, you can’t kill me.”

Law’s eyes burn gold “We’re not here to kill you.”

Luffy’s fist cracks with Haki “We’re here to end you.”

And for a moment Doflamingo’s smile falters.

Then he sees you.

Dragged there mid-fight, bruised but standing tall, defiant. The guards had tried to hold you back. They failed.

His grin returns.

“Oh, you made it! I was wondering when my little distraction would show up.”

Law’s blood runs cold.

“Don’t” he warns, voice like a blade.

But Doflamingo steps toward you anyway, lifting a hand, threads spiraling through the air.

“You sure you want her in the splash zone, Law?” he says “I could snap her spine before she even blinks.”

You don’t flinch “Try it.”

But Law does move, so fast you barely see it. He’s between you and Doflamingo in a heartbeat, sword drawn, fury etched into every line of his face.

“She has nothing to do with this” he growls.

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Doflamingo chuckles “She has everything to do with this. You think I didn’t see it? Back then?” He gestures vaguely, mockingly “Two kids huddled in the dark, pretending they didn’t care about each other. You think Corazon didn’t notice? Since I couldn't see your face that day, I would love to see it now when I'll take her away from you.”

Law doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to.

Doflamingo hums “Corazon always was a sentimental idiot. Guess you inherited that too, huh?”

“You don’t get to talk about him” you snap, stepping forward.

Doflamingo’s grin stretches wider “Oh, but I do.”

And then he strikes.

Threads launch at you, impossibly fast. But Luffy is faster.

“Gomu Gomu no Jet Gatling!!”

His fists slam into the threads mid-air, tearing them apart in a blur of Haki and fury. He lands in front of you with a scowl.

“Back off, bird freak.”

You blink “Luffy!”

He throws you a crooked grin “You okay?”

You nod, breathless “Thank you.”

He turns back to Doflamingo “You leave her outta this. If you’re mad at Law, fight him. And stop talking so much, you're annoying.”

Doflamingo’s laugh is harsh “Oh, Strawhat. Playing Cupid too, huh?”

Luffy blinks “Huh? You mean… them?”

He gestures between you and Law, who, despite the blood and bruises, suddenly looks very tense.

Luffy beams “They’re cute!”

“Luffy,” you and Law say in unison “We’re not—!”

Luffy waves a hand “Yeah, yeah. Not in love... Sure, got it.”

Doflamingo cackles.

You want to sink into the floor.

Law just mutters, “Kill me already.”

But there’s no more time to argue. Because Doflamingo lifts his hand and the threads descend.

The palace trembles beneath your feet as the battle rages on.

You’re by Law’s side, ducking threads and deflecting stray attacks, your breath burning in your lungs. Luffy’s fists slam into Doflamingo again and again, but nothing sticks long, he keeps getting back up.

Then Doflamingo grins, dark and wild, and hurls a barrage of strings straight toward you.

You freeze for half a second. And that’s all it takes.

You hear Law shout your name, then “ROOM.”

Your surroundings warp in a flash of light-blue energy.

The world disappears.

When you land, you’re way far from the battlefield. Far from him.

The silence is deafening.

You stumble forward “Law?”

No answer.

Panic claws at your throat. You spin in place, trying to understand how to get back there, fast. But nothing... He cut you out of it.

He teleported you away.

You slam your fist against a stone wall, heart pounding “Damn it, I hate you Trafalgar Law! You better survive this because I need to kill you with my own hands now... UGH!”

Meanwhile, Law’s breath shudders.

Teleporting you drained the last of his energy. His hand drops to his side, fingers trembling.

“Clever,” Doflamingo says, amused “Sending your little girlfriend away. Always the noble one, huh?”

Law says nothing. He just smirks and lets the blade strike.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: Disagreement

Masterlist: Here

CW: Pregnancy stuff, minor jealous Harry (him and Patrick have an issue lol), smut (fingering, thigh fucking and dirty talk).

Word Count: 5.8K

A/N: We are getting closer to the twins arriving and I’m so excited, there’s only 2 parts left after this! Also if you don’t want to read the smut just skip the last section, you won’t be missing any details just the spice!✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees @silastylesswift @prettygurl-2009 @blueleonor @daphnesutton @angeldavis777 @harryssunflower17 @blckburd @tinawritesstuff @inlikea-coolway @mothersversiononly

Summary: Harry asks you a question, feelings are discussed and the two of you spend a day in bed✨

There’s a silence in your apartment that has you feeling on edge as you sit at your kitchen table rubbing your lips together as your mind begins to shuffle through all the check lists you have full of things you need to finish preparing and buy before the twins arrive. You flick your eyes over towards your kitchen where Harry is standing with a hand on your counter and the other holding a green apple that’s placed on the same cutting board he’s been using ever since he started making your juices months ago. You can tell by the way his eyes are looking straight ahead and not at the fruit in his hand that he is lost in his thoughts, probably thoughts very similar to the ones racing through your own mind so you just allow the silence to linger for a few minutes longer before you decide to break it.

“What’s the first thing on your list?” You ask as your hands rest on top of your very big pregnancy belly that has you not able to do much of anything without assistance these days. Harry blinks a few times before shaking his head as if to clear his mind before turning his head to look over at you.

“Sorry did-what did you ask me?” You let out a chuckle at his confused expression as his grip on the apple tightens ever so slightly.

“Your list of things you feel like you need to get done before the twins get here.” You look down at your belly and give it a gentle rub with both hands before looking back at him. “What’s the number one thing you-”

“Figure out where you’ll be staying once they’re here.”

“What do you mean? I’ll be staying here. In my house.”

“Okay.” You watch him as he carefully decides how he wants to articulate his next question as he lets go of the apple and turns around so he can lean his back against the counter. “And uh am I allowed to-uhm possibly also stay here with you?” He doesn’t look at you as he fumbles his way through asking the question, instead his eyes are glued to a spot on the tile floor near your refrigerator.

“Gee let me think about this.” You tilt your head to the side and tap your chin with your pointer finger as Harry lifts his head to look at you with a quirked brow at your playful tone because he is on the verge of a panic induced sweat while you seem very calm. “Can my boyfriend who also happens to be my baby daddy who doesn’t really let me get more then five feet away from him without him shouting my name to see where I’m at stay with me after our twins are born?” You question as you act as if you’re mulling the idea over in your mind but the slight upturn of your lips tells Harry you’re trying to hold off a smile and that can only mean one thing. “Yes Harry. Of course you can stay here because I’m sure as hell not going to your house right away with all those-”

“Stairs. I know love.” He says with a smile as he walks over to where you’re sat at the table. “I’d like to point out I let you get at least ten feet away from me before I’m shouting for you.” You roll your eyes as he holds his hands out for you to take so he can help you out of the chair.

“I was right behind you the other day and you shouted-”

“Baby I couldn’t see you I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”

“You still shouted-in a library of all places.”

“It wasn’t even a real shout it was just a loud whisper.” You glare at him while his hands rub the sides of your belly as the two of you stand in the middle of your kitchen. “That lady didn’t need to be so mean about it.” The moment the words leave his mouth he knows he has royally messed up, so he just braces himself for you to let him have it as his hands continue to rub at your belly, lightly scratching it through the fabric of your t shirt since he knows you’ve been a bit itchy lately.

“That lady? You mean the librarian who was just trying to do her job of keeping it nice and peaceful in a place people come to read and learn?” You let out a huff as you swat his hands away from your bump making him frown at bit at the loss of contact. “You’re dating one of those ladies Harry and you’re lucky she just gave you a harsh shush and didn’t kick you out.” Harry knows you wish so badly that you could just storm off and leave him standing in the kitchen to think about what he just said but you can’t, you haven’t had your juice yet and you can’t exactly get around very easy and have been relying on Harry’s annoyingly toned arms for support so you’re stuck in the small space with him, annoyed and dangerously on the verge of becoming hangry.

“I’m sorry love it won’t happen again.”

“I would’ve kicked you out.” You mumble in a half annoyed and half serious tone, not ready to acknowledge his apology you keep your eyes focused on your bump making Harry bite down on his bottom lip in order to fight off the smile that wants to form on his face at your stubbornness. “And ban you from ever being able to step foot in any public library in the country.” You add making a scoff slip out of Harry’s mouth as he tries to sneak his hands back to the sides of your bump without you noticing.

“Now sweetheart that’s a bit much don’t you think?” You just shrug as you try to shove his hands away but this time he doesn’t let you, keeping them firmly on the sides of your belly making you huff in annoyance. “That would mean I’d never be able to bring you lunch at work or take the twins to story time or-”

“They wouldn’t be banned.” You correct him, finally looking him in his eyes that are a soft shade of green that has you wanting to let out a soft sigh but you don’t because there’s a point to be made here and you refuse to be distracted by his big dumb eyes. “Just you.” Harry lets out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Well good thing you weren’t the librarian on duty then.” You roll your eyes as he leans in, and when you go to turn your head so his lips land on your cheek he pauses. “Come on Cranky gimme a kiss so I can get back to making your juice before you get really upset.” You let out a sigh as you turn your head allowing him to press his lips against yours for a quick and sweet kiss.

“I really would’ve kicked you out.” You mumble with a small pout as he pulls away with a smile on his face.

“I know.” He states as he leans in to press his lips to your forehead. “I love you.” You freeze as the words slip past his lips making him immediately pull away and take a step back from you with wide eyes and red cheeks, embarrassed he just accidentally let those words tumble out of his mouth so easily.

“You-”

“I uhm I meant I love them like-the twins yeah yeah I uh love them.”

“That’s not what you meant and that’s so not okay to say in the middle of an argument Harry that’s-that’s cheating.”

“What? How is that cheating? This wasn’t even an argument?”

“If it wasn’t an argument then why were you apologizing?”

“Because that’s-uh well that’s a good question.” You stare at him as he runs a hand through his hair as you try to come to terms with the fact he just casually admitted he loves you while in the middle of your kitchen. “So maybe this was just a disagreement over how I handled a situation in the library and also for me rudely referring to the librarian as just some lady so-so that’s why I was apologizing.”

“But do you know you were wrong?”

“I know you feel like I was wrong. Yes.”

“Harry.”

“Okay fine. Yes I know I was wrong and that’s why I was apologizing. I shouldn’t have shouted in the library and I should have more respect for librarians because I just so happen to be in love with one.” You feel your eyes well up as a lump forms in your throat as Harry stares back at you with a hopeful expression on his face.

“Does your therapist know you’re a cheater as well as a narcissist?” Harry lets out a chuckle and shrugs a shoulder as he reaches his hand out to grab yours that’s resting on top of your bump.

“I’m sure he’s well aware of all my flaws but I’ll ask when I talk to him next week.”

“Good.” You feel his hand cup the side of your face just as the first few tears fall from your eyes. “You really love me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that because you’re panicking over the fact we have five weeks until the twins are here and-and we haven’t even packed a hospital bag or-”

“Hey sweetheart look at me okay?” You swallow thickly as your eyes meet his. “I love you and I’m not telling you this because I’m in pre twin arrival induced panic.” He gives you a smile as you sniffle and try to blink back a new wave of tears. “I’m telling you this because it’s how I feel or- how I’ve felt ever since you let me take you on that horrible first date a month ago and you know I’ve always been bad with timing and-”

“I love you too Harry.” Your voice is watery and the tiniest bit squeaky as it cuts off his rambling but Harry doesn’t mind, all he can focus on is the fact you’re saying it back.

“Yeah? You’re not just saying that so I’ll go and make your juice?” He teases as a grin spreads across his face making his dimples pop out.

“No I’m saying it because it’s how I feel. Besides I can make my own juice.”

“You can?”

“Yes I’ve done it before.”

“What? When?” His eyebrow raise as he looks over at the relatively large knife resting on the cutting board next to the apple he left on it. “I don’t like the idea of you using knives when I’m not around. I know that sounds-”

“Harry.” He turns to look back over at you as you reach over and cup his face with both of your hands. “Don’t ruin the moment.” He smiles as you pull him down for a kiss as his hands fall to your hips.

“Won’t happen again love.”

“Oh I’m sure it will.” You joke as you give his cheeks a small squeeze before dropping your hands from his face. “Also that was quite a declaration of love you just made- have you been reading my romance novels?” You ask making him roll his eyes as he turns to head back into your kitchen.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laugh as you watch him grab the knife and begin cutting up the apple.

“Whatever you say.” You stand there for a moment, looking over your shoulder to the chair you were just sat in and then through the doorway of your kitchen towards your couch.

“Harry can-” before you can finish your sentence Harry is by your side with his arm out for you to grab onto so you can begin walking towards the living room.

“Comfy?” He asks after helping you get situated on the couch. You just nod making him smile as Paris walks into the room causing his bell the jingle having woken up from his mid morning nap he no doubt took in his new favorite spot, the middle of the rug in the twin’s nursery.

“Paris your stepdad told me he loves me in the middle of an argument.” Harry playfully rolls his eyes as he leans over and presses his lips to the top of your head before turning to go back into the kitchen.

“Wasn’t an argument Paris it was a disagreement.” He corrects, Paris pauses to watch Harry disappear into the kitchen before he turns to walk over to where your feet are propped up on the coffee table with a pillow underneath them.

“Want to snuggle with your mom?” You asks the orange colored cat who just purrs as he leaps onto the couch and instantly plops down next to you so his back is firmly pressed against your hip. “Oh Paris things are about to get a little crazy around here.” You tell him with a sigh as the sound of Harry chopping fruit and the gentle purrs of your cat start to gently lull you to sleep.

This is something Harry has gotten quite used to, you just randomly dozing off for a quick Power Nap while he’s off doing something in another room. So he just smiles and places a kiss to your forehead when he walks back into the living room a few minutes later with your juice in one hand and a bowl of grapes in the other, not wanting to disturb your morning nap so he just puts your goodies on the table next to the armrest of the couch and picks up Paris so he can place him in his lap after sitting down next to you.

“Your mom loves me too mate so that means no more biting.” He whispers to the orange ball of fur currently curled up in his lap. “Or at least start biting my other ankle.”

“Love?” You turn your head at the sound of Harry entering your bedroom, when you get a good look at the sweatshirt he has on you bring a hand up to cover your mouth to hide your laughter. “What’re you giggling at over there?” He asks as he walks over to what has now become his side of the bed, the one closest to the door claiming it’s so he can rush off and go grab whatever you need in the middle of the night but you know it’s one of his safety things.

“Nothing I just really like your shirt that’s all.”

“Do you really? I picked it myself.”

“Oh that much is very obvious.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He questions with a quirked brow as he looks down at the front of his sweatshirt. “It says daddy.” You just nod as you try to get comfortable, Harry looks over at you as you roll over so you’re facing his side of the bed.

“I’m aware of what it says Harry I do know how to read thank you very much.” You say with a huff as you fluff your pregnancy pillow a bit before resting your head on it.

“I don’t get why it had you in a giggle fit? It says daddy and I’m going to be a daddy.” You let out another round of giggles as he gets on the bed after kicking off his shoes.

“I’m just curious have you been wearing that all day?” You wonder as he scoots over so his arm is resting on the side of your pregnancy pillow.

“Yes because you keep it bloody freezing in the house thanks to your-”

“You’re the reason I’m dealing with hot flashes so don’t be sassy about how cold it is in here.”

“Right. Of course.” He gives you an apologetic look as you reach over and flick him in the shoulder. “But yes I wore it to run a few errands and went to see Niall at the studio.” He answers making you just rub your lips together as his hand finds your wrist and begins tracing little circles on it with his thumb while he holds his phone in his other hand and is scrolling through his emails.

“You ran errands and went to the studio in a sweatshirt that says daddy on it?”

“Yes now can you tell me why that’s an issue?”

“It’s not an issue but does Mr. Popular really not understand how funny it is that he was seen walking around in a shirt that just says the word daddy on it in big block letters? I mean come on you-”

“Oh.” You watch Harry place his phone down on his chest as the realization hits him. “Well I mean-I can’t help what people call me and-and the sweatshirt is soft and I’m not ashamed to wear it.” You just give him a smile when he looks over at you.

“It’s cute.” You tell him making him smile as he leans over to place a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute.”

“Thank you-oh guess what I finally got today.” Harry’s thumb pauses its tracing on your wrist as he takes a quick look around the bedroom for any signs of what you could’ve gotten while he was out running errands.

“Uh did you pick their coming home outfits?”

“Without the opinion of their ultra fashionable daddy? I’d never.” The glare he sends you makes you laugh. “But it does have to do with the twins.” You tell him as he gives the room another subtle scan and his eyes go wide when he sees it, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room is a black backpack with the name “Styles” embroidered in white on it in a pretty cursive font.

“Holy shit.” He says out of shock making you reach down with your free hand and place it over your bump as you playfully glare at Harry.

“Harry Styles watch your language in front of the children.”

“Sorry but you finally picked a diaper bag? You’ve been looking for one for months.”

“I just wanted to make sure it was going to something that I could use for years and wasn’t too bulky.”

“You mean like that monstrosity you call a purse?” He questions as he leans over to place his phone on his nightstand.

“You’re the only one who hates my-”

“Nope not even close to being true my love because tons of people hate your purse I’m just the only one willing to be honest with you about it.”

“Whatever.” You huff making Harry lean over to he can place little kisses to your cheek until you let out a giggle. “You’re lucky I like you because I got you one too.” He smiles against your cheek as you tilt your head so his lips are now hovering above yours.

“Oh come on sweetheart we both know you love me.” He murmurs against your lips before capturing them in a sweet kiss.

“Sorry it doesn’t say daddy though.” You say with a smile when he pulls away making him let out a groan as he rests his forehead against yours.

“M’never gonna hear the end of this am I?”

“Nope.”

Harry sits up and crosses his arms over his chest as he turns and glares at your side of the bed, not at you but at the plush object you’re currently cuddling with as you lay on your side with a book in your hand. Your pregnancy pillow has somehow worked its way onto Harry’s list of things he can’t stand, now he’s happy you’re comfortable he wants you to be as comfortable as possible but he hates how the soft plush pillow gets in the way when he tries to snuggle with you. He can’t even fully get his hand on your bump when laying on his side at night before going to sleep, the pillow wedged between the two of you. Now he knows he’s being a tad bit silly and dramatic but in this moment when all he wants to do is cuddle up with you while you read your new book, he doesn’t really care how dramatic he seems.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Harry lets out a sigh as you turn the page of your book, not bothering to look over at him.

“Do you really need this right now?” He asks as he pokes the side of your pillow making your eyes glance down to the spot his finger just jabbed.

“Yes I need him.” You answer as you go back to reading while Harry just stares at you with a raised brow.

“Him? Your pillow is a him? Tell me you didn’t name him.”

“I did. His name is Patrick.”

“Patrick? Why-why would you name it?”

“Because it felt weird to cuddle with something and it not have a name so I named him Patrick the pillow but you can just call him Patrick.” You explain once again without looking up from your book, you just snuggle deeper into the pillow making Harry let out a huff.

“Well isn’t Patrick for sleeping? You’re not sleeping.”

“Keep talking and that’ll change in a few minutes.” You tease dryly causing Harry to send you a glare that you don’t even notice due to how intently you’re focusing on the book in your hand that you checked out from the library a few days ago and sent Harry to go pick up for you.

“Baby.” He doesn’t mean to sound so whiny as he leans his head back so it’s resting against the headboard of the bed. “I just want to cuddle and he gets in the way and you don’t even seem to care.”

“You’re the one who bought him for me.”

“Well yes but-”

“But now you want me to kick him out? That’s rude.”

“He was bought before we started sleeping together-as uhm as in we sleep in the same bed together not that we sleep together even though we-we have done that as well but the point is Patrick has got to fucking go.” About halfway through his little rant you lift your head and close your book sliding it to the middle of the bed, you look at him with a small smile on your face as he fumbles his way through explaining his frustrations with your pregnancy pillow.

“You really don’t like Patrick?” Harry looks over at you as you begin to try and sit up.

“I don’t like how he gets in the way when I’m trying to cuddle you and now you’ve gone and named him so it’s-it’s weird having Patrick in the middle of us when I’m trying to-”

“Spoon me?” He lets out a huff and sends you a playful glare that makes you laugh as you reach your hand out for him to take. “And is that what you’re wanting to do right now?”

“Is it so wrong that I want to spend a day in bed cuddling my girlfriend?” He asks as he takes your hand so you can give it a little squeeze.

“Of course not.” You say with a smile as you let go of Harry’s hand so you can maneuver yourself to where your feet are dangling off the side of the bed. “Now help me up so I can go get a snack while you get rid of Patrick.” Harry is already getting out of bed and walking to your side by the time you’re done talking.

“No more grapes okay? You’ll give yourself a tummy ache.” He tells you as he helps you up, you just roll your eyes as your hands rub the top of your belly.

“So bossy.” You mumble on your way out the door making Harry chuckle as he hears the sound of Paris’s bell jingling letting him know the cat is following you to the kitchen, leaving his napping spot in the rocking chair in twin’s nursery.

“Sorry Patrick.” Harry tells the pregnancy pillow as he grabs it off your side of the bed. “But you’ve gotta go mate.” He says as he tosses it in the closet before shutting the door.

What feels like half an hour later but is really just ten minutes later Harry’s face breaks out into a grin when you waddle your way back into the bedroom licking your lips and carrying your water bottle. He is laying on his side of the bed, now in just a tank top and athletic shorts having ditched his sweatshirt since he knows you tend to always run a little hot and he doesn’t enjoy sweating while trying to get some quality cuddle time with you. You give him a smile as you place your water bottle on your nightstand and sit down on the edge of the bed with a small huff.

“And what did you three agree on for a snack?” He asks as you swing one leg at a time onto the bed, Harry has to practically hold his hands together to stop himself from reaching over and helping you but he knows if you want his help you’ll ask or simply look at him with that dramatically adorable pout. He knows you’re trying to still be as independent as possible without pushing yourself too far so even though it nearly kills him, he will politely sit and watch you take a few minutes to get comfortable on the bed.

“A slice of watermelon and two bites of cantaloupe.” You answer as you roll over to your side so you’re facing your nightstand. Harry takes your queue and wastes no time in scooting over and laying down next to you on his side.

“I thought you didn’t like the cantaloupe? Said it was too sweet?”

“I forgot.” You admit making Harry let out a chuckle as one of his arms slides under the pillow your head is on and his other wraps around your middle so his hand is resting on your belly. “But that’s why I only had two bites and not the whole container.” You explain with a yawn as Harry places a kiss to the top of your shoulder.

“I love you.” He whispers into your ear as he moves so your back is up against his front earning him a soft sigh of content from you.

“I love you too.” He knows by the way your voice sounds that you’re only a few minutes away from falling asleep so before he gets too comfortable he reaches towards the end of the bed and grabs the thin throw blanket and tosses it over the lower half of the two of you because he knows your feet and legs will get cold since you’re just in maternity bike shorts and an oversized t shirt. And even though it might not look it given how he tossed Patrick in the closet for the afternoon, he still wants you to be as comfortable as possible while cuddled up in his arms.

Harry is curled up behind you, his hand gripping your hip keeping you pressed together, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. It’s not that he tries to intentionally wake you up, but he has his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and he can’t help himself when he places a kiss to the spot below your ear earning him a small giggle from you. He smiles against your sensitive skin and it’s not until you begin to stir and arch your back making your backside press against him that he realizes just how much he’s been enjoying having your warm body pressed against him during your mid day nap.

He knows you can feel him begin to harden as you unconsciously press yourself against him again as you stretch your limbs. The breathy sigh he lets slip passed his lips has you pausing as his hand on your hip tightens its grip ever so slightly. He’s prepared to slide out of the bed and head to the bathroom to deal with his growing issue, not wanting to disturb your post nap bliss. But when you place a hand over his on your hip and slowly drag it up to slide under the waistband of your bike shorts his hips jerk making him let out a moan that’s muffled by his face still being nestled in the crook of your neck at the pleasant friction he gets from his shorts against his now fully hardened length.

“You’re so warm.” He says softly, his breath hot against your neck as his hand slowly travels down over your hip and under the band of your panties letting him feel your skin against his fingers. “And soft.” He mumbles as his hips grind against your backside causing a tiny gasp to leave your lips.

“Harry.” You say with a sigh, voice still slightly thick with sleep but now mixed with a burning need that has you instinctively pressing yourself back against him.

“Can I take these off baby?” He asks, breathing into your ear, when you just nod he doesn’t waste any time before he’s sliding your shorts and panties down your legs until you can kick them off letting them land on the floor. You reach a hand behind you and give the band of his athletic shorts a small tug letting him know you want them off which he quickly does and soon you’re letting out a soft breathy moan when you feel him gently lift your top leg so he can slide himself between your thighs.

“God you feel so good.” He lets out a moan at how good the friction of being nestled snuggly between your warm soft thighs feels against his length.

Slowly he begins to move his hips, gliding against the silky heat of your skin. The friction sends waves of pleasure pulsing through his body, each thrust is slow and deliberate, as if he doesn’t want the intimate moment between the two of you to end too soon.

“Fuck baby- I love feeling you like this.” He moans, his voice strained as his hips maintain their rhythmic pace, his cock sliding smoothly between your thighs.

His grip gently tightens on your hip as he pulls you closer against him, intensifying the sensation. He hears your breath hitch as his fingers slip down until his thumb is gently circling your sensitive bud, matching the slow pace of his thrusts.

“Harry please.” You beg as you press yourself firmly against his hand, seeking more of his touch. He knows what you need from him so he moves his hips faster and adds a bit more pressure to your clit. “Need-oh god.” He doesn’t let you get the rest of your request out before he’s slipping two fingers inside your warm center making a deep moan of pleasure bubble up from his chest when you grind down hard onto his hand, your backside meeting his hips.

“That’s what you needed isn’t it baby?” He whispers breathlessly before placing a kiss to the side of your neck, nipping at the spot below your ear. “Fuck-you’re so wet and-shit so warm I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” Your thighs clench tighter around him as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside your wetness while he continues giving your clit gentle circles with his thumb.

Harry lets out a groan as his hips begin moving faster, losing himself in the intoxicating rhythm, his fingers matching the pace making your eyes shut as he feels you tighten around his digits that are tucked inside of you.

“H-Harry I’m so-oh I’m close.” Your words have his thrusts becoming urgent and fervent, driven by pure instinct and passion. He pumps his fingers in and out of you with a new found determination, needing you to get your release before he can get his own.

“Just let go for me sweetheart. Make a mess all over my fingers.” He urges tenderly before his lips attach to your neck.

When his thumb adds more pressure to your clit you begin moaning his name as you let the pleasure overtake you in waves, your body is arching into Harry’s embrace as your climax leaves you slightly overwhelmed. The tightening of your thighs and the way you’re clenching around his fingers sends Harry spiraling over the edge, his release spilling warmly onto your thighs as his body shudders with an intense wave of pleasure.

“Shit.” He breaths heavily as your hand wraps around his wrist to stop his thumb from rubbing at your sensitive bundle, he slowly removes his fingers from inside you making you let out a soft sigh. He lifts his head just enough so he can bring his glistening digits up to his mouth, he can’t help the moan that leaves him as he tastes you on his tongue.

“You’re so dramatic.” You say with a giggle as you turn your head so you can get a better view of Harry’s face just as he takes his fingers from his mouth with a pop.

“Can’t help it I like the way you taste.” He tells you with a smile as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips.

“You made a mess.”

“Oh I made a mess? I think you meant to say we made a mess.”

“Now we need a shower and new sheets.” Harry just lets out a chuckle as his hand goes to the hem of your t shirt, slowly sliding under it letting him feel the softness of your belly.

“Might as well finish getting undressed then.” He whispers against your lips, his hand going higher until he’s cupping one of your bra covered breasts.

“Did you have another sex dream about me or something? What’s got you all horned up?” You tease as he gives your breast a soft squeeze when you turn your head to look over at the clock on your nightstand that lets you know your nap was a little over an hour.

“You’re just-so fucking sexy I can’t help it.” He answers as his lips kiss their way down your neck. “But let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll change the sheets.” He gives your shoulder a kiss over the fabric of your t shirt before he slides his hand out from underneath it, he sits up as you roll over to your back.

“I love you.” Harry grins as you stare up at him with a smile on your face, when his eyes meet yours he finds himself almost getting lost in them.

“I love you too.” He says as he leans over so he can place a kiss to the top of your head. “Now come on let’s get you in the shower before you start to get cranky from missing your post nap snack.” This has you rolling your eyes but the smile doesn’t fall from your face and Harry knows it’s because you know he’s right. And in someway it has your heart wanting to melt because he knows you so well and despite all your little moody moments and the need to have eight snacks a day, he still loves you and you love him just as much.

[mintyys-blog]

THE WEIRD SISTER | kon el kent x batsis! creep! reader

DC MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: mention of stalking, harassment, obsession, swearing, smut (not detailed)

IMAGINE THIS: Y/N Wayne becomes obsessed with Kon-El after he’s kind to her. Despite warnings, he falls for her—unaware she has no intention of ever letting him go.

It was a typical day at the Wayne Manor, with Tim hanging out with Kon-El in the living room, lazily playing a video game while they chatted. Kon, still getting used to being part of this strange world of Gotham’s finest, had tagged along for the afternoon. He wasn’t exactly familiar with the layout of the manor, and with all the rooms and hallways, it was easy to get lost.

He had been drinking water when the sudden need to use the washroom hit him. “Hey, Tim,” Kon said, glancing up at the other boy. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Tim barely looked away from his game. “Just down the hall,” he muttered, his focus never wavering.

“Down the hall my ass,” Kon grumbled under his breath, walking out of the living room and into the maze of the manor.

There were doors everywhere. Each hallway seemed to stretch longer than the last, and the place was so large that it was hard to figure out which direction he was going in. After turning one too many corners and seeing nothing but endless doors, he sighed, muttering to himself.

That’s when it happened.

He was rounding another corner when someone bumped into him, and the impact sent the person stumbling backward. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she landed on her behind with a small thud.

“Shit—sorry,” Kon said, quickly reaching his hand out to help her up.

She blinked up at him, her wide eyes peeking from behind a curtain of messy hair as she brushed it out of her face. Her fingers brushed against his as she took his hand, and Kon was immediately struck by the sensation. Her hand was so much smaller than his… and yet it was warm, delicate. A stark contrast to his own rough and calloused skin.

She gripped his hand, pulling herself to her feet. “It’s okay… really,” she stammered, her voice soft. She seemed flustered, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “I should’ve been paying attention.”

He smiled awkwardly, letting go of her hand with a small chuckle. “Sorry about that—” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he processed what he was seeing. “You’re Tim’s sister, right?”

She nodded quickly, still a little dazed from the encounter. “Y/N,” she said, her voice shaky but clear. “My name is Y/N.”

Kon’s smile widened at the sound of her name. He felt his own heartbeat quicken, although he couldn’t quite place why. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Kon,” he said. Then he paused, realizing that he still had no idea where the bathroom was. “Uh, do you know where the washroom is?”

Her eyes flicked to the left, pointing down the hall. “It’s just down there,” she said softly, still seeming to hover between embarrassment and curiosity.

Kon gave her a grin, something playful flashing in his eyes. “Thanks, beautiful!” he said with a wink, before turning to walk in the direction she indicated.

Y/N stood frozen, her heart thudding in her chest as she watched him disappear down the hall. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Had he… called her beautiful?

Her hand subconsciously went to her hair, twirling a strand around her finger. The warmth of his touch still lingered on her skin, and the way he had smiled at her—so effortlessly, so casually—sent her spiraling into a mix of disbelief and excitement.

She was aware that she was staring after him, but she couldn’t help it. Kon-El had just called her beautiful, and for someone who had spent most of her life feeling invisible, those words were like a spark of light in a dark room.

She shook her head, muttering under her breath. “Get a grip, Y/N,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing.

But deep down, she knew that her heart had already taken a piece of him. And now, there was no going back.

Kon returned to the living room with a bit of a bounce in his step, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. Tim was still on the couch, halfway through a mission on the game, mashing buttons and barely looking up.

“Dude,” Kon started, collapsing onto the arm of the couch, still grinning. “How come you never introduced me to your pretty sister?”

Tim’s eyes slowly dragged away from the screen.

Kon raised an eyebrow, teasing, “She’s cute. Kind of got that quiet, mysterious thing going on. Definitely didn’t expect someone like her to be living in this crypt.”

Tim narrowed his eyes immediately, his fingers pausing mid-game.

“Trust me when I say this,” Tim said, his tone dropping low, serious. “Stay away from her.”

Kon blinked, holding his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay—jeez. I get it. Protective older brother mode activated.”

But Tim didn’t roll his eyes. He didn’t scoff or smirk. Instead, he shook his head, lips pressed into a flat line.

“No, it’s not that,” he said slowly, voice tight. “It’s not that I’m protective. It’s just… she’s weird, man. And she’ll stay weird if you keep your distance. But if you get close to her?” He let out a breath, fingers gripping the controller harder. “She gets worse.”

Kon’s amusement faltered. “Weird?” he repeated, frowning. “What do you mean, weird?”

Tim sighed, finally setting the controller down on his lap. He rubbed his eyes like he was bracing himself to explain something heavy.

“There’s a reason the press doesn’t talk about her,” Tim said. “Bruce made sure of that. Scrubbed every record, kept her out of sight. Not because he’s ashamed of her or anything—but because he’s protecting her from the world. And maybe the world from her, too.”

Kon’s frown deepened. “Dude, you’re not making any sense.”

“She wasn’t like the rest of us growing up,” Tim said carefully. “We all got trained, molded, socialized in our own way. But her? She slipped through the cracks. Spent a lot of time alone. Bruce didn’t even know how to handle her at first. She was always in her own head, always fixated on something.”

He leaned forward now, lowering his voice. “There was this guy in high school. Nice enough dude. Said hi to her in the hallway once. That was it. And she just… locked on to him.”

Kon tilted his head, trying to reconcile the quiet, sweet girl he met with whatever Tim was saying now.

“She stalked him,” Tim said, blunt now. “She followed him home. Snuck into the gym when he had practice. Took pictures. Wrote about him in her journal, like… obsessive stuff. Bruce found it all by accident. He confronted her, and when she wouldn’t stop, he pulled her out of the school.”

Kon stared.

“Paid off the guy’s parents,” Tim continued. “Moved them three states over. It was a whole thing, kept out of the media thanks to Bruce’s money and Alfred scrubbing every digital trace.”

He leaned back with a grim expression.

“It was the first time I ever saw her angry,” Tim said. “Like, truly angry. Not sad, not embarrassed—furious. She didn’t talk to anyone for weeks. Broke a window. She wasn’t… violent. But it was off.”

Kon sat in silence, his previous smirk gone completely.

He remembered the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him. The way she fidgeted with her sleeves. The way she had repeated his name like it meant something sacred.

“…She seemed nice,” Kon muttered. Tim looked him dead in the eye. “That’s the problem.”

Kon didn’t say anything. But in the back of his mind, he remembered her voice. “My name is Y/N.”

And the way her cheeks flushed when he called her beautiful. Kon wasn’t sure if he was more intrigued… or unsettled. Maybe both.

Tim sighed and picked his controller back up, unpausing the game with a sharp flick of his thumb. “Anyway,” he muttered, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Kon hesitated for a second longer before shifting back into his usual relaxed slouch, trying to shake the lingering unease from their conversation. The screen lit up again with the bright neon chaos of explosions and power-ups, and Kon forced a grin, grabbing his own controller.

“Right. Totally heard you,” he said, eyes narrowing in concentration. “But just saying, if I do end up falling madly in love with your sister, I expect a wedding invite.”

Tim groaned audibly, smacking the back of Kon’s head with a light bap of his controller. “Don’t joke about that, dude. You wouldn’t survive the honeymoon.”

Kon laughed, the tension easing between them, though his eyes flicked toward the hallway once—just once—before focusing back on the game.

The sound of gunfire and chaos filled the room again, the two of them immersed in the action. For a while, everything felt normal.

But Y/N hadn’t moved from behind the hallway corner. She stood there, just out of sight, her back pressed to the wall. Hands trembling slightly. A blush high on her cheeks. She had heard him laugh. He had called her beautiful. And she knew—knew—she’d see him again.

Hours passed. The game eventually ended, the sun dipped behind the skyline, and Alfred’s soft knock reminded them that dinner was being served downstairs.

Kon stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should probably head out. Thanks for the beatdown, Timmy.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome for the lesson, jackass.”

They exchanged their usual jabs as they walked to the door, Kon’s jacket slung over his shoulder. Just as he stepped into the foyer, a soft sound made him glance up.

From the hallway, Y/N appeared.

Tim’s head snapped up too—he hadn’t heard her door all day. Her quiet footsteps were tentative, uncertain, but she kept walking, eyes fixed on Kon.

It was rare—unheard of—for her to willingly leave her room when guests were over.

But she was there. And she waved. Not a full wave. Just a little flutter of her fingers, like she wasn’t sure how to do it right. Her mouth curled into the ghost of a shy smile.

Kon blinked—caught off guard—before that familiar, warm grin split his face. He lifted his hand and waved back, short and casual, his smile easy and open. “Bye, Y/N,” he called gently.

Her heart thundered like a drum in her chest. He smiled at me again. He remembered my name. Behind her, Tim let out a long, drawn-out exhale and narrowed his eyes like he could already see the gears turning in her head.

“Hey,” he said lowly, walking past her. “I know what you’re thinking—don’t.”

She scoffed, eyes still on the door Kon had just walked out of. “I’m not doing anything,” she muttered, brushing past Tim with a dismissive shrug.

But her cheeks were warm, her steps too light, and in her mind she was already replaying it. The smile. The voice. The way he looked at her. She didn’t even close her bedroom door all the way this time.

He said goodbye to me. He smiled at me. He waved first.

No matter what Tim said, it was already too late. Because Y/N had decided— He was hers.

The manor was silent that night.

Y/N crept down the stone steps of the Batcave like a shadow, her steps light, practiced, almost soundless. The only light came from the cave’s monitors, glowing softly across the cavernous space.

Barbara sat at the comms, headset on, fingers moving across the keyboard as she monitored patrols across Gotham.

She turned when she heard the familiar footfalls. “Hey, Y/N,” she greeted, stretching her arms above her head, yawning. “Didn’t expect to see you down here.”

Y/N hovered for a second, head tilted just slightly. “You look tired,” she said in a tone so soft it was almost neutral. “Why don’t you take a little break? I’ll manage the comms—just like you taught me.”

Barbara raised a brow at that, the suggestion oddly timed. “Sounds tempting…”

Y/N blinked slowly, expression still unreadable. “Fifteen minutes,” she said. “That’s all.”

Barbara smiled, already pushing her chair back. “Deal. Thanks, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” She took off the headset and made her way toward the elevator. “Be right back.”

Y/N didn’t move until the doors had closed and Barbara was completely out of sight.

Then—quick as a flick of a switch—she slid into the chair, her fingers already flying across the keys. Passwords. Firewalls. Data protocols. All of it melted away under her hands like butter. She had watched Babs for months. Quiet. Observing. Learning. The system bent for her now, recognizing her as a silent student finally stepping into the light.

She typed in one name.

Kon-El.

Dozens of files pulled up, and her eyes flicked across them hungrily.

Clone of Superman and Lex Luthor. Created in secret by Project Cadmus. Member of Young Justice. Enhanced Kryptonian physiology. Weaknesses: Kryptonite, red sunlight, lead shielding. Psychological notes: prone to identity issues, abandonment trauma, strong protective instincts.

Her fingers danced across the screen faster.

Photos. Missions. Legal name. Metropolis address. DNA markers. Hair samples.

Her pupils dilated slightly as she leaned forward.

“He’s perfect.”

Every note on his childhood, his team affiliations, the timeline of his creation—all of it. She devoured it. Memorized it. She imagined his voice. The way he said her name. The warmth of his palm against hers. That smile.

She would give him her heart. Carve it out herself if she had to.

A soft sound behind her made her freeze.

Footsteps.

She slammed the keyboard with a quick set of commands—windows vanishing, screens going black. She sat up straighter, adjusted the collar of her hoodie just as—

“Ms. Gordon—oh.” Alfred’s calm voice echoed off the cave walls. “Y/N. I thought Barbara was covering the comms tonight.”

Y/N turned slowly in her chair, blinking innocently. “She is,” she said, voice calm, warm, practiced. “I just took over for a bit—to give the poor gal a break.”

Just as Alfred stepped closer, Barbara returned from the elevator, sipping a smoothie and sighing. “Thank you, Y/N,” she smiled, wheeling herself back toward the monitor. “Fifteen minutes of not listening to Gotham scream was heaven.”

Y/N gave her a gentle nod. “Anytime.” She turned, walking toward the stairs again—quiet, unhurried. But inside? Inside her mind was racing. Kon-El. Her Superboy. And now, she knew everything.

The streets of Metropolis gleamed under the mid-morning sun—too bright, too open compared to Gotham’s shadows, but Y/N didn’t mind. She had studied the city’s layout all night. She knew the bus lines. The civilian surveillance blind spots. The schedule of local patrol routes.

She wore soft colors today. A light sundress. A cardigan just a little too big. Something to make her look approachable, like someone Kon would want to stop for. Like someone who needed saving. Someone worth saving.

She stood near a smoothie shop she knew he liked—courtesy of timestamped paparazzi photos, background intel from the cave’s archives, and an archived Young Justice tweet about “Kon’s ten banana-strawberry addiction.”

She waited patiently, apple in hand, heart pounding behind a calm smile. And then—she saw him. Kon-El.

Coming down the sidewalk, earbuds in, hoodie thrown over a black tank top. Laughing at something on his phone. Relaxed. Unaware. Perfect. Y/N took a slow breath. She timed it perfectly. She stepped forward. And let the apple fall—bouncing once, rolling into his path.

Kon glanced down. “Oh—” He caught it before it could roll into the street. Looked up, eyes locking on hers. “Hey, you dropped this.”

Her eyes widened with just the right amount of surprise. “Oh! Thank you! I’m such a klutz.” She gave a soft, sheepish laugh, reaching out. “I didn’t even see it roll.”

Kon smiled, handing it back. “No worries. Apple’s still good���three-second rule.” She giggled. “I hope that counts on sidewalks.”

He chuckled, eyes briefly scanning her face before recognition flickered. “Wait… you’re Tim’s sister, right?” Her breath hitched, lashes fluttering. “Y/N. You remembered.”

“Yeah!” he said, smiling. “You were at the manor the other night.”

She nodded, hugging the apple to her chest. “It was nice meeting you.” There was a silence, soft and lingering—not uncomfortable. Kon scratched the back of his neck. “What brings you to Metropolis?”

She tilted her head, eyes shining. “Just… trying something new. A change of pace. Gotham’s kind of loud.” He laughed. “That’s one way to put it.” And just like that, the moment hung between them.

Kon shifted on his feet. “Well hey—since you’re here, and I’m on smoothie duty for the team—” he nodded toward the shop, “—you want one? My treat.” Y/N’s heart skipped. But her smile remained soft. Calm. Careful.

“Sure,” she said. “I’d love that.” She walked beside him as they stepped into the shop, shoulder brushing his just barely.

Step one: meet by chance. Step two: shared conversation. Step three: keep him talking, keep him laughing. Step four? Make him fall for you. She would follow every step. No matter how long it took.

The smoothie shop was cool inside, the scent of fresh fruit and syrup thick in the air. Pop music played softly overhead. Kon stepped ahead of her in line, glancing at the menu, though Y/N already knew he didn’t need to look.

He always got the same thing. And so did she. When the barista turned to her, Y/N leaned forward, smile sweet and voice clear: “I’ll take a banana-strawberry smoothie,” she said. “Large, no whip.” Kon blinked and looked over at her with a grin. “No way. That’s my go-to.”

She widened her eyes a touch, tucking her hair behind her ear like she was shy about the coincidence. “Really?” she asked, even though she already knew. “That’s crazy. That’s been my favorite since I was a kid.”

He laughed. “Same. Must be a Tim Drake sibling thing.” She giggled, stepping aside as the order went through. “Maybe we’ve got good taste.”

He bumped her shoulder lightly with his own. “Or maybe we’re both just boring.” Her smile didn’t falter, but inside? You could drink bleach and I’d still pretend to love it.

She didn’t give a damn about banana-strawberry smoothies. They were average, bland. She preferred bitter coffee, strong tea—anything with a bite. But she’d choke down ten of these if it meant staying beside him a little longer. If it meant he thought they had something in common.

The drinks came up. Kon took his with a grin, sipping immediately and sighing like it was water after a desert trek. “God, that hits.”

Y/N sipped hers too, ignoring the overly sweet flavor that coated her tongue like syrup. “It really does,” she lied.

They stood near the window together, looking out onto the street. “So, how long are you in town?” he asked, casually interested. Still warm. Still open.

She tilted her head, like she hadn’t already booked a cheap motel two blocks down under a fake name for the week. Like she hadn’t memorized his patrol times and the walk he took past this exact shop. “Just a few days, maybe longer,” she said softly. “Depends on how things go.”

Kon nodded. “Well hey, if you need someone to show you around… I mean, I’m not a tour guide, but—” She looked up at him, soft and eager. “I’d like that.”

She watched the flush rise faintly to his cheeks. Victory—small, but sweet. He thought he was meeting a quiet, sweet girl. Tim’s shy sister with weird habits and bad luck in love. What he didn’t know— Was that Y/N didn’t believe in luck. Only design. And she was building her future, one smile at a time. Starting with his.

Kon blinked, still mid-sip, as Y/N casually pulled a pen from her bag—uncapped with precision like this wasn’t her first time writing her number for someone she had no intention of letting go of.

She reached over to his smoothie cup, gently turned it, and scribbled her number in neat digits across the side, just below where his fingers held it.

Then, with a smile that was all sugar and baited hooks, she looked up at him through her lashes.

“I think I’ll take you up on that tour,” she said, voice soft with a sweetness that wasn’t quite innocent. “Text me whenever so we can hang out.”

And then—she winked. Not shy. Not flustered. Not passive. Intentional. Calculated.

Before he could recover enough to say anything, she turned and walked off, dress swaying, steps light and measured. She didn’t look back, though she wanted to—wanted to see his stunned expression. The way his hand hovered over her number like it might burn him.

Instead, she smiled to herself, slipping into the crowd outside the smoothie shop like she was never there. That’s right. Keep thinking I’m a mystery. Keep wondering. Because now he had her number. Now she was in his thoughts. And she would make sure she never left.

Back at her motel, she locked the door, pulled the curtains, and dropped the sweet smoothie into the bathroom sink, letting it swirl down the drain. Then she sat on the bed, pulled out her journal, and jotted it down.

Day One: Met him. Check. Day Two: Got his number. He kept the cup. Day Three: He texts. Or I make sure he does. Smile. Be sweet. Be unforgettable. One day, he’ll love me more than anything else in this world. Even if I have to take that world apart to make it happen.

And below that, she drew a tiny heart. With a Superman symbol inside it. Her fingers hovered over her phone. Waiting. Watching. He would text. Eventually. And when he did, that’s when the real fun would begin.

Her phone buzzed against the nightstand, screen flashing dimly in the motel’s early morning gloom.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, she didn’t breathe. Then she turned slowly, hands trembling as she reached for the device. Her fingers hesitated just above the screen.

1 new message

Kon-El:

Hey, Y/N! Had fun yesterday. You still in town?

I’ve got a few hours free this afternoon if you’re up for that tour I promised.

Her heart slammed against her ribs—violent, euphoric, electric. Her breath hitched. Her lips parted. He texted. He actually texted. He thought about her. He remembered her.

She let out a tiny laugh—soft and breathless—pressing the phone to her chest as she rolled onto her back. Her eyes glowed, wide and stunned and drunk on the smallest thread of attention.

The moment replayed in her mind like a film reel: the smile he gave her, the way his fingers brushed hers when she gave him the pen, the small lift in his brow when she winked. He liked it. He liked her.

She sat up, clutching her phone with both hands, heart still pounding.

Now the work began.

She spent the next hour crafting her response. Not too fast—she didn’t want to seem desperate—but not too cold either. He needed to believe she was sweet, flattered, curious.

Finally, she typed:

Good morning! I’d love that— I was hoping you’d text.

Where should we meet? :)

A smiley face. Deliberate. A little warmth. A little bait. She hit send.

Then, slowly, she got out of bed, walking over to her dresser where the printed photos and notes of him were hidden inside a box labeled old notebooks. She opened it, running her fingers over the images of him. “Today’s going to be a good day,” she whispered.

The reply came ten minutes later. Not too fast—he wasn’t overeager. But not too slow either.

There’s a place by Centennial Park—little rooftop garden cafe. It’s quiet, not a lot of people. I’ll meet you there around 2?

Y/N stared at the message, rereading it until the letters blurred together. A rooftop. Private. Not crowded. Perfect.

She clutched the phone to her chest again, a shiver of anticipation rolling down her spine. Her fingers twitched with the urge to write it all down, to add this to the plan. But for now… she needed to focus on the moment. On him.

She had five hours. Enough time to make herself perfect.

By 1:55, she was already seated at the café—an open-air rooftop with trailing vines, hanging flowers, and quiet instrumental jazz playing over speakers. She chose the seat with the best lighting, backlit to give her face a soft glow, hair styled to look effortless, makeup light but flawless.

She’d practiced her smile in the mirror. Twice.

When Kon arrived, floating down from above like some dumb handsome angel, she tilted her chin and looked up just in time to meet his eyes. He grinned. “Whoa. You clean up nice.”

Y/N gave a small, bashful laugh. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” She meant it. He was all sunlight and warmth in a fitted Henley and jeans, his hair still messy from flight.

He sat across from her, sipping a lemonade he grabbed at the bar. “So, be honest,” he said, elbows on the table, “did you really come to Metropolis just for a ‘change of pace’—or were you planning to stalk your brother’s friend all along?”

He was teasing. He thought it was funny. Y/N blinked, laughed softly, and tilted her head. “Would you be mad if I said yes?”

Kon snorted, grinning. “Guess I’d be flattered.” He leaned back, drink in hand. “You’re definitely not what I expected.”

She folded her hands around her tea, letting her eyes soften. “Most people don’t expect me at all.”

There was something honest in her voice—and that made it dangerous. Kon blinked once, gaze dipping toward his cup, then back to her. “Yeah, well. I’m glad I ran into you.” Y/N smiled, slow and satisfied, and took a sip of her drink to hide it.

The sun was beginning to set when they left the café, golden light bathing the city in soft warmth. Kon offered to walk her back, but when they reached the crosswalk near his building, he paused—thumbs hooked in his belt loops, voice casual.

“You know… my place is just up there.” He tilted his head toward the skyline, flashing that charming grin. “If you’re not in a rush. We could hang out more—no pressure.”

Y/N blinked, like she had to think about it. But her heart was a wildfire in her chest. She smiled. “Sure. I’d like that.”

His apartment was simple. Lived-in. A little messy, but in a way that made it feel warm—books scattered, a half-finished pizza on the counter, clothes slung over the couch. Not chaotic, just real. Human.

He handed her a soda and they sat on the couch, shoulders almost touching. They talked—about heroes, cities, dumb headlines, even a little about Tim. Kon laughed easily, leaning into her energy, her quick wit, her softness when she tilted her head and looked at him like he was the only person on the planet worth listening to.

At one point, her hand brushed his on the couch. Neither of them moved.

Later, she turned to face him, legs tucked beneath her, lips parted like she had a question. But instead of speaking— She leaned in.

Just enough. Just so her lips brushed his. Light. Barely there. A test. And he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

Instead, his hand slowly came up, resting on her waist—fingers curling slightly. His other hand braced the couch behind her. Then he kissed her back.

It was soft at first. Careful. But his grip on her waist tightened, and he pulled her just a little closer. The kiss deepened, slow and heady, like neither of them wanted to rush it. Y/N melted into it, hands coming up to lightly rest on his chest. His heart was pounding. So was hers.

But only one of them had spent the last 48 hours memorizing his pulse, his patterns, his every move.

She pulled back slowly, eyes fluttering open. Kon smiled, a little dazed. “Wow.”

She smiled back, brushing a thumb over his jaw. “I’ve wanted to do that since I bumped into you.” He chuckled, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. “Should’ve done it sooner.”

Her heart fluttered at the words—but underneath it, something darker unfurled. Something greedy. Something starving. He let her in. And now? Now he would never get rid of her.

Kon kissed her again—deeper this time. Less hesitation, more heat. His hand slid from her waist to her hip, fingers digging in just enough to make her breath hitch.

Y/N let it happen—let herself melt into it, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. She let out the smallest sigh against his lips, and Kon swallowed it whole.

The couch shifted beneath them as he leaned forward, gently guiding her down until she lay beneath him, her back cushioned by the pillows. He hovered for a second, breath warm against her cheek, eyes searching hers.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m perfect.”

He kissed her again, deeper, slower—like he had all the time in the world to explore her mouth, her neck, the flutter of her pulse under his lips. His hands ran down her sides, tentative, respectful even as the kisses grew more heated. Her skin tingled where he touched—warm palms over her ribs, his thumb brushing the edge of skin just beneath her shirt.

Y/N arched into him, letting out a soft sound—almost too soft to hear. But it made Kon groan low in his throat, his lips trailing down to her jaw, her neck.

“You’re… really something,” he murmured against her skin, and she smiled up at the ceiling.

You have no idea, she thought.

Because while he was busy falling into the moment, wrapped up in lust and affection and that easy chemistry they’d stumbled into… Y/N was burning every second into her memory. Every sigh. Every curve of his smile. Every muscle twitch beneath her hands.

She wanted all of it. To own it. To keep it.

And if this led where she wanted—if his kisses turned into more, into tangled sheets and whispered names and the illusion of love—she would let him think it was a mutual fall. That this was new and spontaneous.

Even though she’d planned it all. Right down to the clothes she wore and the perfect lighting from his window. Because tonight? Tonight she wasn’t just part of his life— She was already making herself permanent.

Kon’s hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt, pausing just beneath her ribs—his thumbs brushing the soft, heated skin there. His kisses slowed, lips trailing from her jaw to her collarbone, savoring the way she gasped quietly, her body arching ever so slightly to meet his.

“Y/N…” he breathed, voice low and thick. “We don’t have to rush this, if you—”

She sat up just enough to pull her shirt over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. Her eyes met his, wide but sure.

“I want to,” she whispered, fingers gently tugging him down by the collar of his shirt. “I’ve wanted to.”

Kon’s breath caught. For a beat, he just looked at her—taking her in like she was the softest secret in the world. He kissed her again, slower this time, with more reverence. Like she deserved gentleness. Like she wasn’t quietly possessive, clinging to every second like it was her right.

His hands wandered—down her sides, over her thighs. He took his time, touching her like she was precious. Like she was someone he was falling for.

And she let him believe that.

Let him believe this was a moment—some spontaneous heat of the heart kind of thing. Not the result of hours of research, days of perfectly-timed coincidences, calculated charm, and a lifetime of being ignored until someone finally saw her.

His kisses grew heavier. They lost track of time. Of conversation. Of everything that wasn’t warm skin and hungry mouths, soft gasps and tangled limbs on that worn couch.

Kon’s shirt hit the floor. Her jeans followed. His mouth left burning trails along her neck, her chest, her stomach—each press of his lips branding her like a promise she would make him keep.

And when he finally looked down at her, breathless and flushed, his voice was barely more than a whisper: “You’re beautiful, Y/N…” Her fingers curled into his hair, and she smiled.

They moved together on instinct—his body covering hers, his breath warming her skin as the last layers of clothing came off in a blur of hands and mouth and soft, shuddering gasps. The world narrowed to just him: the weight of him, the feel of his hands, the low, strained sound he made when she arched up into him like she needed this.

Like she needed him.

Kon’s hands held her gently but firmly, grounding her with each slow push of his hips, like he was afraid of overwhelming her. He moved like he wanted her to feel everything, like he didn’t want this to be a quick mistake or a blur of hormones—but something real. Something intimate.

But Y/N? She wasn’t trembling from nerves. She was trembling from triumph.

His mouth was on her neck again, whispering her name between kisses, groaning softly as her nails scraped down his back, urging him deeper, closer. Every sound she made was deliberate. Every shiver timed. Every gasp just real enough to make him think he was making her fall.

She’d jumped the moment he smiled at her in the hallway. When he called her beautiful. When he asked for the bathroom and accidentally gave her hope.

And now, with him inside her, surrounding her, holding her like she mattered—like she wasn’t the weird, broken secret the Batfamily never talked about—she felt it.

When he moaned her name again, kissing her like he never wanted to stop, Y/N cupped his cheek and whispered back:

“I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”

A lie. But a perfect one.

Because Kon’s lips parted like it meant something. His eyes softened like he believed it. And when he came undone above her, groaning her name, forehead pressed to hers— she knew. She was his.

The morning light crept through the half-closed blinds of Kon’s apartment, casting soft golden beams across tangled sheets and bare skin. Y/N stirred beneath the warm weight of his arm draped over her waist, the faint scent of him still clinging to her skin—like salt, cedar, and a memory she’d kill to preserve.

Her phone buzzed violently on the nightstand.

She groaned, rolling over just enough to grab it, hair messy, cheeks flushed with sleep. Kon grumbled behind her, nuzzling into the back of her shoulder, his lips brushing the curve of her neck.

She giggled, batting at him gently as she answered the call. “Hello…?”

Bruce’s voice came through immediately. Low, stern. Controlled.

“Y/N. Where are you? You’ve been gone for days.”

Her stomach twisted—not with guilt, but the thrill of being noticed.

She sat up, keeping the sheet tucked around her, pretending to frown even as Kon’s hand slid around her stomach again, pulling her back against him. He kissed the spot just below her ear this time, his voice still half-asleep. “Mmm… morning…”

Y/N swallowed a smile. “I’m fine. I’m… with a friend.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away. She could practically hear the silence, calculated and cold.

“A friend,” he repeated.

She could picture him at the Batcomputer, jaw clenched, eyes narrowing beneath the cowl.

She curled her fingers into the sheets. “I just needed some time. Alone. Away from everything.”

Kon sat up a bit behind her, brushing her hair out of her face with lazy fingers, his eyes still soft, still warm, still believing every layer of sweetness she showed him.

“Come home today,” Bruce said, voice tight. “Alfred’s worried. Barbara said you stopped by. That’s the last time anyone’s seen you in person. We’ve given you space, but disappearing for seventy-two hours—”

“I said I’m fine,” she cut in, a little sharper this time. “I’m safe. I’ll be home tonight.”

Bruce went quiet. Then: “Don’t make me send someone to find you.” The call ended.

She let out a slow breath and dropped the phone onto the nightstand, rolling onto her back. Kon propped himself up on one elbow, eyebrows lifted in concern. “Everything okay?”

She turned to him, smiling as she cupped his cheek. “Yeah. Just… my family being overbearing again.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Want me to fly you home later?” She bit her lip, drawing him back down with her. “Later.”

For now, she had everything she needed right here. And if Bruce wanted to drag her back into the shadows, he’d have to pry her away. She’d earned this Earned him. And no one—not even Bruce Wayne—was taking that from her.

Later that day, the manor was quiet when Y/N stepped through the doors—her hair still slightly tousled, the collar of her shirt not-so-subtly marked with faded evidence of the night before. She tucked a strand behind her ear, casual, composed, even as the echo of Bruce’s looming presence filled the hall like a cold breeze.

He stood at the base of the staircase, hands clasped behind his back.

“Welcome home,” he said, voice even. “How was your little vacation?”

She tilted her head, humming lightly as she dropped her bag by the door. “Good,” she said, smiling. “Did some thinking.”

Bruce nodded slowly, studying her with those unreadable, calculating eyes. “I’m not angry,” he said after a moment. “You’re an adult. You’re allowed to make your own decisions. But next time—just let someone know before you vanish, alright?”

Y/N gave a soft laugh, stepping in and wrapping her arms around him. “Of course, Dad.”

There was a pause—just a second too long—and then Bruce returned the gesture stiffly, one hand patting the back of her head. That awkward-but-fond way he showed affection, always too controlled.

He stepped back. “See you later, sweetheart.”

She nodded, watching as he turned and disappeared into the hall, footsteps echoing with quiet finality.

The moment he was gone, her smile dropped slightly.

She bent to retrieve her bag—and from a hidden side pocket, she pulled out one of Kon’s shirts. She buried her nose in it, inhaling the scent with a dreamy, obsessive little sigh before tucking it back away like a treasure.

Her fingers lingered over the fabric, possessive.

Y/N pushed open Tim’s door without knocking, her grin wide and absolutely feral.

Tim looked up from his laptop, his brows immediately drawing together the moment he caught sight of her expression. He didn’t need to ask. He knew.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “Tell me you didn’t…”

She stepped inside, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger like some love-struck teen from a rom-com. “We did,” she said sweetly. “And I’m his girlfriend now.”

Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That idiot…”

She flopped onto his bed like a satisfied cat, letting out a dreamy sigh as she hugged his pillow. “He’s so sweet, Tim. Gentle. He held me like I was made of glass. And he called me beautiful. Can you believe it?” She rolled onto her side, staring at him. “Someone saw me. Really saw me.”

Tim’s face was unreadable—somewhere between exhausted brother and weary detective. “Y/N… you cannot do this again.”

She blinked, all mock innocence. “Do what?”

“You know what,” he said flatly. “Obsessing. Fixating. Building your whole world around someone until it implodes.”

She sat up slowly, the smile still there, but… colder. “It’s not like before.”

“It’s exactly like before,” he said. “Only this time it’s Kon. And he’s too nice to realize you’ve got that same look in your eyes.”

She tilted her head. “What look?”

Tim didn’t answer. Just stared at her, that detective instinct screaming in his chest. The way her fingers curled into his sheets like she was imagining someone else lying there. The way she smiled—like she was the only one in on a joke no one else found funny.

He sighed. “Please… just don’t hurt him.” Her voice was sugar-sweet, almost sing-song. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

But Tim felt the chill settle in his spine anyway. Because he knew her better than anyone. And the only thing scarier than Y/N not getting what she wanted… Was when she did.

[01rocketboy01]

For The Con (Harry Wilson x GN!Reader)

Summary: To keep your cover, you and Harry have to use a tried and true method; one that leaves the both of you questioning your friendship.

Tags: First Kiss, Fluff, Fake Dating, Confession

Warnings: Canon-typical danger, canon-typical swearing, mild angst (denial of feelings), very vague innuendos

Word Count: 1.8K

“Those records have to be somewhere.” You tell Harry, searching through the filing cabinet as he clicks through the computer on the large, maple desk.

“Any help, Breanna?” Harry asks over comms, eyes scanning over the hundreds of files on the mark’s desktop, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Sorry guys, that computer’s on a separate network. Can’t access it. Hence the need to actually break into his office, old school.” Breanna’s voice comes through your earbuds, and you can hear her typing away on the other line, monitoring and looping camera feeds.

The party downstairs has provided good cover so far, Sophie managing to keep the mark away from his office by chatting him up over a glass of champagne. You and Harry had to sneak away after the party commenced, both wearing your formal clothes, and get into the office unseen. Wasn’t too hard to dodge patrols, but now the two of you had an indeterminate amount of time before a security guard stuck his head into the office to check up on everything.

“I think I got something.” Harry says, managing to sort through some of the recently opened files. He plugs in the USB drive, quickly copying what he needs onto it.

“Me too.” You pull out a file, flipping through it and taking pictures.

Bingo.

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the party, but you’re going to have company in about 30 seconds.” Breanna warns.

Harry straightens up quickly, slipping the USB into his pocket, and you return the file and shut the filing cabinet.

“We don’t have enough time to get out of here unseen.” You say, turning to Harry. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” He answers quickly.

“Then go along with me.” You knock a few things off the desk, hopping up on it and grabbing the front of his blazer to pull him in.

“Put your hands on me.” You command him, and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Just-“ You yank him roughly, and he stumbles, nearly knocking you backwards as he braces his hands on either sides of your hips, standing between your thighs. Before he can back up, you crash your lips against his, a hand wrapping around his tie and the other hand running through his hair.

He’s surprised, at first, completely caught off guard by the suddenly passionate gesture, but he’s not an idiot. He figures out the game once he recovers from the shock, and wraps his arms around your waist, trying to be convincing but respectful as he kisses you back.

It’s easy to get lost like this, you realize. You thought this would be awkward, but your thoughts of possible discomfort are quickly dispelled as his body slots against yours, his hands splaying across your back as he continues to kiss you with a desperation that genuinely surprises you. It’s almost like he needs this. But even more surprising? You think you might need this too, as you catch yourself leaning deeper into the kiss and pulling on his tie, a gasp escaping his lips. Enough to make anyone flush.

“Excuse me?”

You pull away suddenly, as does Harry, breaking the spell. You’re both incredibly flushed, lips slightly red. Harry’s hair is a bit messy from where you ran your hand through it, sticking out at odd angles. You look over your shoulder as Harry looks past you, meeting the gaze of a very awkward guard.

“Oh! Sorry, we were just trying to…well.” You smile and clear your throat. “Trying to find somewhere quiet.”

“Well, you can’t be in here.” The guard says firmly, trying not to stare, but trying to be assertive. He doesn't seem like he's used to this. Must be a newer hire.

“We’ll get out, then,” Harry says breathlessly, nodding to you and swallowing thickly. He backs up, letting you get off the desk. Harry offers you his arm, and the two of you quickly walk past the guard and out the door, steering back towards the party.

As you both return, you glance over at Harry. Your eyes widen; his hair is still a mess. You gesture to him, glancing up at his hair and hoping he gets the message. He flushes slightly, running a quick hand through his hair to flatten it back down, and readjusts his tie to make it look a little less like you just had a make-out session. A fake make-out session. Right?

Sophie spots the two of you from across the room and smiles knowingly, raising her glass of champagne to you and winking.

“There’s no way she knows.” Harry says softly. “Right?”

“Comms. They all heard everything.” You respond, not trying to embarrass him more, but you knew that it would be an unintended side effect.

“That we did. Y’all nasty.” Breanna says, and you can practically hear the expression on her face.

“It worked, didn’t it?” You say, fixing your own hair. “We got out of there.”

“Yeah.” Harry agrees, clearing his throat. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, but you try to ignore him. Now is not the time, nor the place.

The rest of the party goes off without a hitch. Sophie gets the information she needed, and you and Harry manage to make off with the files safely. It's late when everyone gets back to HQ, and you find yourself just wanting to get out of these clothes and into the shower as you ascend the stairs.

Harry follows you up. "Hey, can we talk?" He requests quietly so the others can't hear. You pause on the stairs. "In private?" He specifies.

"Sure," You tell him, continuing up the stairs. He takes that as a signal to follow you, walking with you to your room. You let him in and then close the door behind you both, hopefully discouraging eavesdroppers. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?" Harry says, placing his hands on his hips. "Don't you feel like we need to talk about this?"

"No, I don't." You tell him, walking past him and over to your dresser to get out comfortable clothes.

"But that was... I mean, it was..." Harry struggled to find the words.

"It was what we had to do to get out of there. For the con." You say dismissively, pulling out a shirt and shorts. You don't look at him as you speak, because you know that if you do, he's going to make you confront this. You're going to have to confront this.

"So that's it?" Harry asks, and you can hear the slight hurt in his voice that pulls at your heart. "We pretend like that didn't happen?"

"It happened, Harry, but that's it. That's all." You tell him, shutting the drawer harder than you meant to. "We're friends. Just friends."

"Just friends. Right." Harry shakes his head, scoffing slightly. "I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want." You finally look up at him, trying to steel yourself.

"You're telling me you didn't feel anything at all?" Harry asks incredulously.

"I'm telling you it doesn't matter what we felt." You say firmly.

"So you felt something." Harry's eyes narrow slightly, and you feel as though he can see right through you.

"I don't know what I felt."

"Bullshit. You know exactly what that was and you don't want to admit it." He holds your gaze, and you can tell he's trying to read you. Trying to figure you out.

"Okay, fine. I enjoyed it. It felt good. Is that what you wanted to hear?" You ask him, crossing your arms.

"If it's the truth."

"It is the truth."

Tense silence settles over the two of you for a moment.

"I liked it too." Harry blurts out. He takes a deep breath. "I liked kissing you. A lot."

You kind of assumed that.

"I care about you, Harry." You tell him. "I care about our friendship. I don't want to ruin that."

"I care about our friendship, too." He responds. "But I can't just pretend I didn't feel what I felt. You might be able to forget and move on, but I can't."

"I can't forget." You say quietly, and it's true. These past few hours you've thought about that kiss more than is probably healthy. You've always been a bit distracted by him, but this is truly a new level of disturbance.

"Then why don't we try this?" Harry steps closer, gesturing between the two of you.

"What even is this?"

"I don't know!" Harry smiles, shaking his head. "That's what I want to find out. I haven't felt this way in a while, and I'd really like to explore that with you."

"Aren't you afraid?" You ask him, meeting his gaze. You want the truth from him.

"Of course I'm afraid." He says, reaching out and taking your hand. "I'm downright terrified. I don't want to lose you."

"I am too." You admit. "I don't want to lose you either. But...but I'm curious. I want to explore these feelings with you."

Harry's face breaks into a wide smile, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "Good. Do you want to get dinner, then? Sometime?"

"How about when this job is over?"

"Okay." He nods, releasing your hand. "Probably for the best. We're practically on call every waking hour until this guy goes down."

You let your hand fall, and quickly find yourself missing the warmth from his hand on yours.

"Well...goodnight." Harry says, slightly awkward and unsure as he heads to the door.

"Harry, wait." You follow him, and he turns around just as he reaches the door.

You grab his face gently and press a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to heat up quickly. He looks at you with surprise at the sudden, gentle gesture, and you find yourself not wanting to let go of his face.

"Thank you," Harry says softly, hands coming up to rest over yours on his face. "That's probably not the appropriate response to a kiss." He says, a slight realization dawning in his gaze as he sighs. "I'm not very good at this, am I?'

"On the contrary, I think you were doing quite good earlier." You tease him gently, watching the tips of his ears go red. You watch his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows thickly, acutely aware of how close your body is to his. "Perhaps you'd consider an encore?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly and he nodded. "Yes, I would. I would."

"We'll have to see where dinner takes us." You give him a quick peck on the lips, unable to resist, before you release his face. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight." He takes that as his cue to leave and quickly opens the door. He gives you a sheepish smile and an awkward little wave before shutting the door behind himself.

It's something new and unexpected, and you can't help but be excited for dinner as you gather up your things to shower. Hopefully, the job won't take much longer. You're not sure how long you can wait.

[theladyragnell]

This is driving me insane. Who are the original space blorbos??? I have googled the names and searched in Tumblr and I thought at first it was just a d&d campaign or something but then you said it's from the third novel and I NEED TO KNOW

Oh gosh! Sorry to make you go down a rabbit hole!

Anything you see in my "obligatory original space blorbos" tag or see referred to by anything involving the words "space blorbos" (or anything involving the word "Karn" or "Karnisan") is me referring to a long-term original writing project! The Karn series is five novels and two novellas, and it's not published anywhere because I am a very lax editor and I really want to get this one right. So it's the first drafts of five novels and two novellas, and the second drafts of the first two novels (or, well, the second novel has three more scenes in it yet to edit, thus why I've been posting about the space blorbos so much lately, because thinking about them helps motivate me). The first drafts make up a complete series! (Even if there's a second generation series in the back of my brain. Shhhh.)

I want to publish them someday (probably going the self-publishing rather than the trad-publishing route, these are. fairly unpublishable because I don't tend to write super marketable things), but I've found it really rewarding to be able to edit the earlier books as I learn more things about the characters and know more about the series arc I want to do, so none of the books are going anywhere public for a while so I don't edit myself into a corner.

Which is unfortunate, because I really want to share them! But also I've read too many trad pubbed series over the years where it's clear the author wrote the first book or two with a different plan in mind and then had some ideas and consequently fucked their series over a bit with later books not meshing with what they'd been building up to, so I am very determined not to cause myself that problem.

But, preludes aside, the House of Karn series is what I affectionately pitch as Succession meets Bridgerton in space! It's structured like a romance series, each book or novella built around a different couple (or poly ship in one case) and each book with its own coherent plot that wraps up at the end of the book, with a background series arc about successions and coalitions and familial abuse and terraforming and all that good shit.

I made a comic sans series primer sometime back with @sovinly's help, I should really brush that up and post it sometime.

[deer-prongs]

//imma tag whoever i remember in this, feel free to participate even if you arent tagged though ALSO I DID NOT READ THIS ADTER WRITING SO THERE WILL MOST PROBABLY BE ERRORS just go with it// @why-am-i-the-one-drowning @killerbeecj @br1ghtest---star @ uhhh oops. I dont remeber. Okie, anyways, feel free to tag people in the comments if you remeber their url

TW: uh self harm, not really graphic though. If you squint you might see something with an eating disorder, not purposeful though. Kinda, like, a panic attack? Maybe? Idk. Also, it feel very criptic sooo uh, yea.

James lets out a sigh as he colapses on his bed after class. Care of Magical creature had just let out after a test about the evolution of Magical creature compared to the evolution of Non-magic creatures with similar ancestry and he was 100% sure he failed it. His grades have been declining throughout the past couple weeks and every time his parent’s called him he hated every lie that came out of his mouth.

He can’t seem to stop lying though.

First to his parents about his school work,

then his teachers about needing to go to the bathroom

then to his friends about, well, frankly everything

And now to Regulus.

Well, he didn’t lie entirely. He truly did have a shitty day yesterday. But he’d been having a shitty day almost every day recently. Yesterday he was just especially out of it. His friends noticed it, too. Asking why he wasn’t eating at lunch, “oh, i just really need to finish this late work, i’ll bring something with me back to the dorm, don’t worry”. Asking why had so much late work, “i dont know! The teachers have just been giving so much homework don’t you think?? And all on the same week too! It’s ridiculous!” Asking why he didn’t participate in the conversation, “oh, sorry! I just don’t have much to add, really.” Asking why he was staring at his desk, “what mate? Oh, yea, i’m just really tired. Not even sure why.” Asking what was wrong with his thigh “just really sore from practice is all. Don’t worry, i’ll stretch it out later.” Asking what he was doing, “just gotta go take a piss is all.” Asking where he was going, “I just need a break is all. School has been giving me such a headache, a breath of fresh air and run will do me good.”

And then Regulus.

He had followed him all the way into the forest. James had hoped to be alone, but seeing his boyfriend was nice. Being able to cry into his shoulder and hug him had helped.

But clearly not enough.

Because now he was laying on his bed, looking directly at the bathroom door, the small container in his pocket weighing heavily.

Another sigh.

another rub to his thigh.

A pulsing in his wrist.

Oh. That was new

He’d never felt to need to cut there.

He looked down at the smooth skin, pressing in just where Reg had kissed the day before.

BaDum

BaDum

BaDum

pulsed under his fingers as images pulsed in his head.

the flowing of blood out of a small line

BaDum

a blade slowing slicing through the skin

BaDum

a crimson river going down his arm

BaDum

down his leg

BaDum

spilling put faster

BaDum

as more cuts we sliced into the skin

BaDum

metal to flesh

BaDum

metal to flesh

BaDum

metal to flesh

BaDum

His hand flew away from the pressure point

Blinking away to clear his thoughts, he stood up, putting his hand in his pocket and the other on the door knob.

Twist

Pull

Step

Step

Step

His head felt just as clouded as it was yesterday. Thick cotton blocking his thought from his body. Holding on to the railing to not fall, he made his way down to the common room. And out of the common room. Not sure where he was going. Not even sure if he was going somewhere.

He made it somewhere though.

Specifically he made it to a small room in the first floor of hogwarts. He had found it while making the map, but decided it was too small to tell the others about. He had forgot about it since then.

Well, apparently not.

He let out a shaky breath and sat down on the cold, dusty floor. Wrapping his arms around his body and feeling pathetic while doing so.

. . .

. . .

Don’t

a nail dug into his wrist,

Don’t

pulled at his skin,

Don’t

and let go.

the wrist made his way to his mouth,

teeth dug into the skin,

and let go.

Deep breath in

Deep breath out

Deep breath in

Deep breath out- of fuck this

Small blade out

Small blade in

Small blade moved across his skin

nothing

nothing

red

blood

blade

nothing

red

blood

blade

nothing

red

blood

pain

pain

pain

sigh

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Prompt: Hate at First Sight | Word Count: 2319 | Rating: G | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Eddie / Steve | CW: N/A | Tags: internalized classism, angst, angst with a happy ending

This is an entry for @corrodedcoffinfest's May Mayhem Bingo.

I know nothing about cars. I can't even drive. But I had some feelings about Steve's s5 truck. Here's the second out of three fics I wrote about it.

ao3 link

The stars on any other car would shine as bright

It was a good practice. One of their best even. Eddie tries not to think about that and not about how they're going to get to their next gig. They might have to cancel. His van is in the shop and renting something that can take all of their instruments and themselves to the venue is going to put them straight in the red. His van is ailing again, probably due to age. Eddie tries not to think about how much it's gonna cost to replace whatever it is that's going to need replacing. Maybe it's time for the girl to go out to pasture. But it's not like he's got new van money either.

He feels a little bit like an abandoned puppy as he scans the street outside Gareth's garage for Steve. He said he was coming to pick him up. But Steve's maroon beemer is nowhere in sight. Eddie tries to swallow down the sudden rush of panic. It's not like Steve to be late, not for him. Something might have happened to the kids, or to Steve while he was on his way. He can't remember the last time he changed the batteries in the radio he carries around everywhere with him at Dustin's behest. Shit. What if his radio is out of battery and the kids are frantically calling him right now?! And he can't even get to them even if he knew—

"You're thinking so loud right now dude," Steve says as he appears out of nowhere.

If Eddie had a tail (now that's a thought), he'd be wagging it hard enough to break. "Where were you?" he whines, sexily.

"Uh, here, the entire time," Steve says sheepishly. He points to a big ugly blue truck right in front of them. "Sorry. I know it's a new car but I figured you'd see me inside. But you kinda stood out in front and zoned out."

"Where's the beemer?" Eddie asks, confused. This truck looks like something Wayne might insist on buying. Practical. Lumbering. Ugly as fuck. The inside looks cheap too. It's all grey plastic and fake suede, nothing like the elegant leather of Steve's beemer. "She sick too?"

"Erm," Steve clears his throat and looks away awkwardly. "I err… traded her."

"For what?" Eddie sputters, "not… not for that thing?! You traded your beemer for that thing?!"

Steve mumbles something to the ground and gently wraps long fingers around Eddie's forearm, trying to coax him into the ugly thing. Eddie stomps his feet like a fucking toddler then plants himself. What the fuck.

"You loved that car," Eddie insists, "what happened?! Who did this to you? Was it Nancy? Did she say something about you being too high maintenance or some shit? As if her station wagon is any—"

"It's just a car Eds," Steve says gently, "it just wasn't practical you know?"

"Not practical for what?" Eddie squawks, "and don't fucking lie to me. As if you didn't spend a few hours a week pampering the maroon lady."

"I just… you know, the kids are going to start moving away to college and I want to make sure I can help them move. Maybe Wayne needs help hauling shit."

"Wayne has a truck," Eddie says, eyes narrowing, "and the kids have at least a year or two until college, and they all have parents to drive them."

"So why the fuck would you trade your car in now?" Eddie continues, talking loudly over more protests and lies from Steve, "unless… It's to replace my van isn't it?" Eddie hisses, eyes narrowed.

"No!" Steve says. A deep flush spreads from his forehead down to his neck, probably all the way down to his toes. "I mean… a little bit. A tiny bit. I figured… you have a gig coming up. It'd be easier? Maybe? If you had a truck for your stuff…"

Eddie looks at Steve then at the car then back at Steve. Back in high school, Steve never seemed to wear the same polo twice. He walked around in expensive cologne, head held high, not a worry in the world. Even when he got knocked off his throne by Billy Hargrove and Jonathan Byers, he still maintained an era of untouchability.

Until Eddie came along.

Now Steve's standing in front of him in slacks he wore yesterday, exhausted after a day of dealing with customers on his feet all day. Broke. Chipping away parts of himself to hand over to him. If it weren't for him, he'd be shacking up with some other rich girl right now. He'd be hamming it up in a big house with an upgraded beemer parked behind a pristine white picket fence. He'd have a cushy job and infinite polos and beautiful men to fool around with in secret.

The Munson curse is spreading.

Eddie can't breathe.

He turns around and runs into Gareth's house.

-----

Wayne's probably an hour or two away from forcibly dragging Eddie out of bed. He'd done it before. When he was younger he used to just flip the mattress over. Eddie shifts and buries himself deeper into the cover, breathing carefully so he doesn't have to sniff his own stank. He knows Wayne is worried. He's heard him and Steve talk in low voices outside his bedroom before Steve left. The kids are probably worried to. He's been blowing off his band. Jeff is probably looking for a new guitarist already.

He's ruining everything.

Eddie buries himself deeper into the covers and yearns for the simpler days when all he had to worry about was how they were going to stave off the end of the world.

Someone throws his bedroom door open and marches in. Eddie fruitlessly clutches his covers around himself, burrowing into it like some sort of pathetic dung beetle.

"Get the fuck up Eddie," Chrissy demands.

"Go away," Eddie calls out.

"Ugh, it stinks in here. Get the fuck up," Chrissy says.

She doesn't wait for Eddie to ignore her again. Eddie squawks in protest as she unfurls her arms into multiple strands of strong vines. The vines grasp the edges of the Eddie's blanket shield and yanks. Eddie's left exposed, shivering.

"Eww why are you in your boxers?!" Chrissy squeals, averting her eyes.

"Why the fuck would you just yank my covers off?! What are you doing here anyway?" Eddie protests, throwing an am over his nipples to protect his modesty.

"I came over because if Robin were here, she'd kill you and I don't want my girlfriend to go to jail for killing my friend," Chrissy says, rolling her eyes, "now get up."

"To do what?" Eddie asks.

"To shower? To get your shit together? To apologize to Steve for running off on him?" Chrissy says, her voice getting higher and higher with each exhausting activity. "You know he's fucking devastated right?! And over a car?" She leans against Eddie's bedroom door and surveys him disapprovingly, eyes narrowed. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you weren't just dating Steve for his money. But what the fuck Eddie? What's your problem?!"

"Since when do you cuss this much?" Eddie mutters, trying to change the subject.

"Since I came back from the dead," Chrissy snaps, "I think I earned it."

Her face softens a bit. She sighs. "Eddie. Do you want to break up with Steve?"

"No," Eddie says. He hides behind a greasy handful of his curls.

"I figured," Chrissy says, nodding, "that's why you're hiding right?"

"I would dump me if I were Steve," Eddie says darkly, "he should dump me."

"Why?"

"Because I keep taking shit from him?!" Eddie says disbelievingly, "he loved that car Chrissy. And he gave that up for me."

Chrissy opens her mouth. Eddie barrels on before she can say something devastatingly correct or reasonable. "And it's not just the car!" Eddie says, standing up on his bed, "the car is a symbol of everything wrong with me. Steve's given up the chance to live a normal life, to get out of this town, to have those six kids in an RV, everything he cherished, it's all going away. Don't you see?! I'm a blight! I'm a blight upon his fate and future and everyone is just letting it happen!"

"Have you talked to Steve about this?" Chrissy says with a sigh.

"Yes! Exhaustively! All the time!"

"In those exact words? Did you call yourself a blight?"

"Well no, I have some dignity," Eddie says.

Chrissy gestures at his general state with a bitchy glare that reminds him (heart wrenchingly) of Steve.

"Is whatever hangup or dignity you have more important than Steve?" she asks quietly.

Eddie shakes his head silently.

"It's hard seeing you both like this," Chrissy says with a sigh.

"I'm sorry."

"Say that to Steve. Don't drag this out," Chrissy advises, "Steve's been hanging out at Lover's Lake most nights. You should go. Talk."

----

Steve's favorite cookies? Check. Weed? Check. Wildflower bouquet? (well, more like a corsage, flowers are harder to come by after the Upside Down tore the town apart) Check. Starlight gently shimmering over the lake surface? Check and double check.

All Eddie has left to do now is wait. Something he's really bad at in general. The worst part is that he's not even sure that Steve is going to show up. Chrissy said Steve hangs out at Lover's Lake most nights. Most. Not all. He kind of wants to radio Robin, to see if she knows if Steve's going to show up tonight. But based on what Chrissy said, and based on what he did, he'd be lucky if she doesn't figure out how to shoot a hole through his brain using radio waves.

He's such a fucking asshole.

Eddie chews his lips and stares out at the lake surface. It's a messed up thought, but he kind of misses the time before the defeated Vecna. Sure, it was terrifying and stressful. Sure, he was slowly losing his mind while guarding the Lover's Lake portal all by his lonesome. But it was… simpler. He had a purpose. Now it just feels like he's just dicking around doing fuck all besides hurting the people around him. He hopes, prays, that Steve choosing to mope at Lover's Lake means something. It's where they first confessed their feelings, where they had their first kiss. At least it means something to him.

"You're thinking real loud again," Steve says out of nowhere. Eddie jumps and nearly crushes the wildflower bundle.

Eddie kneels like the olden knights, holding out the bouquet like a… whatever knights offer their kings. He can't stop shaking.

"Thanks," Steve says quietly. He gently pries the flowers out of Eddie's clawed hands and sits down next to him. He leaves some space between them even though he cradles the flowers like they're something precious. Eddie hates how small he looks, how he's trying to scrunch himself into a little bundle.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says.

Steve grunts. Eddie fiddles with the grass as the silence stretches on. Starlight gleams off of Steve's new truck.

"That hurt. A lot. When you…" Steve starts then stops.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says again, feeling like a broken record.

"I just…" Steve sighs then picks up a stone. They watch it skip seven times before sinking. "I feel like I'm constantly disappointing you?"

"What?"

"Like, my job. My house. My clothes. And I guess my car now," Steve huffs sadly into the flowers, "you keep telling me that you love me. Then you get this look on your face sometimes. And it makes me feel…"

Steve trails off and looks away. Eddie can see the corner of his lips quivering. Can see the peach stones on his chin. Eddie scoots over, closing the distance, and puts his hand over Steve's. Steve doesn't protest when Eddie moves Steve's hand onto his laps. The forgiving, loving bastard.

"You're my favorite person," Eddie says earnestly. Steve scoffs. Eddie grabs his chin and forces eye contact. Steve's eyes are bright. His lashes are dark with tears.

Eddie Munson is a fucking asshole.

"Look. You're smart. You're funny. You look devastatingly beautiful at all hours of the day, even when you're hungover after throwing up on my favorite boots," Eddie lists out. He watches a subtle blush form and flow down Steve's neck. He wants to bite it. "I was being a fucking conservative sickwad alright? I'm the problem. I'm the one feeling like I'm holding you back from what you want."

"What do you think I want?" Steve whispers.

"Six kids. A nice big yard for your winnebago for when you're not traveling. Lots of time off. Long vacations…" Eddie trails off, "you know. The dream."

"That's not—" Steve huffs, "fuck man, I wish I'd never said that. That was the heat of the moment alright? Something stupid sentimental I said when I thought I was going to die, and that Nancy Wheeler and her arsenal might be my only option."

"Am I your dream then, Stevie? Little ol' me?" Eddie asks, batting his lashes. He leans in for a kiss.

"Yeah, you asshole," Steve says, gracing Eddie with a chaste little peck. "A little house together for you and me and Robin. A car big enough to help out however. Enough free time to build memories. This. You and me and everyone." Steve grips Eddie by the face and gives it a little shake. Eddie smiles and lets Steve move him around.

"Want to start building memories now?" Eddie asks, waggling his eyebrows. He points at the truck bed. Steve blushes and nods.

Eddie gets up and grabs Steve by the picnic blanket, relishing in the adorable yelp of surprise, ignoring the way the cookies, the flowers, and the other arrangements he'd made gets scattered to the ground. They've got a new truck to defile.

[diiambee]

One knew the creator was trying to change, but they couldn't understand why..

The other never expected him to change at all..

[wackywatchdotcom]

yeah sorry i gave your ragdoll moral ocd. yeah i know i already gave her ocd before. yeah i just gave her scrupulosity too. sorry

[lucabyte]

Olive Branch

Wrong Move

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[max-nicoxfandom]

I love daminette as much as the next guy, but shipping Damian with Adrien is SUCH a missed opportunity.

Damian chasing after cats, just like his father. Instead of Damian taking on the bumbling himbo facade, Adrien does.

Brooding bat x playful cat dynamic >>>>

Adrien and his two dark hard friends who have for SOME REASON, decided he needs to be protected. (He's a bleeding heart. They don't want him hurt.)

Grumpy x sunshine is always my bread and butter (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠♪

Damian's mommy issues 🤝🏾 Adrien's daddy issues

Are you hearing me ? Are you listening ? Do you understand the potential ?

[queefsencen]

ALSO i see people saying that sophie didnt like keefe until stellarlune or that her switch happened too quickly but my two cents that nobody asked for is that i think she's liked him since at least exile and i thought that was kind of the point ??? obviously everybody interprets the series in their own way but personally i thought that we were supposed to know she liked keefe for pretty much the whole series especially during the sofitz era ?? something i think is sooooo interesting that i never see people bring up is cassius's head vs heart theory. when i read it i thought that it was supposed to be very obviously implied that it was relevant to the love triangle with fitz being head and keefe being heart but everyone seems to forget about it </3 . i feel like it makes perfect sense that her feelings would "switch" to keefe so quickly because she it was already keefe!!!!! she just didnt realize / was in denial / had a 3-ish year long blonde moment

[vaguely-concerned]

powerful mental image of lucanis expounding passionately about any given one of his limited but extremely deep areas of interest (the wyvern/knives/coffee/cooking/murder continuum of lucanis dellamorte special interests if you will) while rye lounges around and Beholds him with palpable twink boutta pounce energy

[5rozebub5]

Am I the only one that has serious trouble finding good Batfamily fics that include Steph and Duke but don’t include them getting/already being randomly adopted by Bruce for no reason?

Like I have no problem with that headcanon, it’s literally what fanfic is for, this isn’t meant to be criticism. I just don’t personally agree with it and it is very often not tagged whatsoever

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

We as a fandom do not talk about Buck’s whole “agonizing over not telling Eddie he’s bisexual” crisis enough. He felt like he was lying to Eddie because he didn’t tell him something new he’d discovered about himself! Tommy dismissing him for not being able to tell Eddie he’s bi yet certainly contributed to Buck’s panic about it, but the whole “lying to my best friend” part came entirely from Buck himself. And he goes to Maddie about his crisis because his big sister has always had good advice for him, and he trusts her with his relationship with Eddie. This tells us two things:

1. For some reason, Buck was worked up about not yet having told Eddie, specifically, that he is bisexual. He goes to Maddie and omits half the truth from her, even though it could help him figure out why he’s so anxious about hiding the truth from Eddie. But he doesn’t panic about his sister either finding out he’s bisexual, or attempting to hide it from her until the pronoun slip. His panic is clearly and explicitly devoted to the thought of lying to his best friend. Not even his sister, who has known and loved him his whole life, was like his mother for much of their childhoods, and was his greatest and sole champion for most of his life, elicits such panic from Buck. He’s nervous about telling Eddie, but everyone else in his life, he comes out to essentially with ease at the Madney wedding.

Now, for some people, this might make it seem like Buck is aware, even subconsciously of his feelings for Eddie, but I’m not sure I agree. And that is because of the second thing:

2. Buck is 100% incapable of not telling Eddie everything about himself and/or his life. Time and again, we have seen Buck using Eddie as a confidant, a safe space, and a comfort for himself when he’s in crisis or feeling particularly reflective. We see this in the og kitchen scene, when Buck, with a rather shaky segue, apologizes again to Eddie for abandoning the Diazes during the lawsuit, in a scene that feels like Buck’s been holding his words in and they’ve suddenly forced their way out to be heard by Eddie. We see it when Buck tells Eddie all about the first dinner with the Buckley parents, notably, the only on-screen conversation Buck has about the dinner and Buck’s feelings about it before the dinner is immediately overshadowed by the Daniel of it all. It’s all directed towards Eddie. And then we got Buck coming over to Eddie’s house after the lightning strike, asking for space from questions and concerns, and then later opening up about how conflicted and confused he feels after dying for three minutes (and seventeen seconds). And yes, even Buck eventually coming out to Eddie, the only scene where Buck is shown to be 100% intentionally coming out (yes, this is me admitting that I’m still iffy on the soot being on purpose or just an accident that Buck was fine with using to come out to everyone else he loves).

All of this to say, Buck cannot be aware or even subconsciously suspicious that he is in love with Eddie. Yet. This is a guy that thought taking his time to come out to his best friend comfortably constitutes as lying. He is honest with Eddie, and he clearly hates hiding things from his best friend because he gets all weird and uncomfortable about it. If Buck knew that he is in love in with Eddie, we, the audience, would know too. And that’s including the general audience. This isn’t a case where Buck could admit it to someone else and feel a little better that it’s out there, even though Eddie still doesn’t know. This is a man who is incapable of lying to his best friend, or keeping a secret from him. Not only is he incapable of it, he hates it! He doesn’t care about over sharing, he is just desperate for Eddie Diaz to know every part of him and love him anyway.

All I can say to that is, if we see a Buck love realization first, we’d better hope Eddie gets knocked into shape very soon after, or we’re in for a very angsty arc where Buck is “rejected” until Eddie realizes his own feelings. It won’t be a sweet and goofy sequence of Buck avoiding Eddie for a few days once he’s realized, and then telling Eddie magically makes Eddie realize that he feels the same in that very moment. It’ll be Buck accidentally running into Eddie the moment he walks into work the morning after he figures out his feelings, and immediately spilling his love out on the operations floor in front of Eddie and the entire team if he has to. Some sort of gentle rejection on Eddie’s part, and then the boys both shutting down instantly. Then multiple scenes of Buck believing he’s destroyed everything, while Eddie speed runs his gay crisis straight (heh) into a love realization regarding his best friend that he just rejected not three days ago.

So. Do we want the angsty “rejection” route? Or do we want an Eddie realization first, which would contain no less screaming, crying, and throwing up by Eddie, but would spare us the secondhand embarrassment of a Buck so in love that he simply can’t lie to the man he loves’ face for more than a second. Since it would be incredibly cheesy and adorable for their love realizations to happen at the same time, and for them to be ready to admit their feelings in the same scene/episode, I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen. It’s 9-1-1. If there is angst and pain to be had, before leading to a beautiful, fulfilling love, then they’ll be going that route over the simultaneous love confessions.