#still don't know how they managed that but okay

[joelmillerisapunk]

Tastes like strawberries

Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,367 (ma bad)

Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.

Warnings: 18+, age gap (make it your own), handcuffs, scissors, power imbalance, alcohol consumption, f&m oral receiving, joel wrecks your clothes, unprotected p in v, reader has hair and wears a dress, just two consenting adults

Notes: this wasn't meant to be so long. But here we are. Thank you for reading hope you like it <3 Thank you @syd-djarin @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for beta'ing sending you all smooches! and @saradika-graphics for the divider <3 <3 <3

The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face in the dimly lit room. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves as you craft the perfect message to the guy you've been chatting with on Tinder. His name is Joel, and he seems different from the others—charming, mature, and undeniably intriguing.

With a deep breath, you attach the sexy photo you'd taken earlier, one that you hope he'll find irresistible. You type out a flirty caption, double-check the name at the top of the chat, and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

The next morning, you wake up to a message notification. Your heart leaps, thinking it's Tinder Joel, but as you reach for your phone, a sense of dread washes over you. The message is from your father's best friend, Joel Miller, a man you've known since childhood and who has seen you grow up. The preview of the message from last night is enough to make your blood run cold.

11:58PM: I think you might have sent this to the wrong person, sweetheart.

Panic sets in as you read the full message and your face flames with embarrassment. You type out a flurry of apologies, each one more frantic than the last. Joel's response is swift and unexpected.

8:05AM: It's all good, baby girl. You don't need those Tinder boys when I'm right here for ya.

The message is accompanied by a winking emoji, and despite your mortification, you can't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity and warmth in his words. 

—

Determined to apologize in person and clear the air, you find yourself outside the sleek glass building that houses Joel's wine company Vita Vino: where every sip is a celebration of life. You certainly don't feel very celebratory at this moment as the receptionist leads you up to the top floor, where Joel's office overlooks the city with floor-to-ceiling windows.

You step into the office, where you see the cityscape sprawling behind Joel. He rises from his desk, a smile playing on his lips, his presence commanding the room. "Come in, sweetheart, was hopin’ to see ya," he says and winks.

You manage to find your voice, despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Miller, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was mortified when I realized - I don't know what I was thinking, it was meant for someone—"

He cuts you off with a gentle raise of his hand to still your frantic words. "Please call me Joel, you know better than callin me that. It's okay darlin. Really. These things happen."

You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgement, but find only a calm, reassuring smile. "I just—I never meant for you to see that. I feel so stupid.”

Joel's smile broadens, and he takes a step closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about. You're a beautiful, confident woman. Ain't no shame in that. Listen, what you sent—it was for my eyes only from the moment it reached my phone. I want you to know that you can trust me. I would never disrespect you by sharing that with anyone.”

His words resonate with you, and you feel the weight of your embarrassment start to lift. "I appreciate that, Joel. I really do."

He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. His hand lifts, and you feel the warmth of his fingers as they gently tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "You've got nothing to thank me for darlin. I'm just being honest with you."

The intensity of his stare sends a jolt of electricity through you. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making your head spin. But before you can respond, he releases your chin and moves to the side, gesturing toward a large, framed map of the world's wine regions that hangs on the wall. As you both turn to look at it, your bodies are almost touching, and you can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours.

"I want to show you something," he says, pointing to a very tiny out of the way region highlighted in gold. "It's where we get the grapes for our signature blend. You know, just like those grapes, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected surprises." 

As he explains the intricacies of the wine-making process, his hand drifts to the small of your back, a possessive gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is light, but the message is clear—he's staking a claim. 

As Joel's hand lingers on the small of your back, his thumb traces small, intimate circles that make it hard to focus on his words about wine. The room seems to shrink, the city outside the windows fading into insignificance as your awareness narrows to the man beside you.

 You swallow hard, your breath hitching as Joel's thumb continues its maddeningly delightful exploration. The heat from his hand seems to seep through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with his touch. "Joel," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. His name feels foreign and familiar on your lips.

He turns to look at you. "Yes, darlin'?" he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the intoxicating effect he has on you. "I -I should go," you say, though the words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth. The last thing you want is to leave this room and the spell Joel has cast over you.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head slightly. "Do you really want to leave?" he asks, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your back, urging you closer.

The question hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. You know that saying yes will irrevocably change things between you and Joel Miller—the man who is friends with your father—but in this moment, none of that seems to matter. 

The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You're acutely aware of the way your heart is pounding in your chest, the way your breath has become shallow and rapid. Joel's eyes are locked onto yours, a silent challenge that dares you to take a leap into the unknown.

"No," you admit, the word tasting like a confession. "I don't want to leave."

The smile that lights up Joel's face is predatory, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmurs, the approval in his voice sends a thrill through you. He steps back, giving you both a moment to breathe, to let the gravity of your decision settle in the space between you. "I've got something special I've been saving for an occasion like this," Joel says. He moves toward a polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room. The cabinet is locked, but he produces a key from his pocket with a flourish that makes you smile despite the tension coiling in your belly.

Inside the cabinet is an array of exquisite bottles, each one surely holding a story as rich and complex as its contents. Joel's hand lingers over them before finally selecting one with a label that looks older than you are. "This," he says, holding it up to the light so you can see the liquid within, "is a 1947 Cheval Blanc. One of the finest vintages ever produced."

Your eyes widen at the sight of it. "Joel, I can't... that must be worth a fortune," you protest weakly, even as part of you yearns to experience such rare luxury.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he retrieves two crystal glasses from the cabinet. "Money isn't everything, darlin'." His gaze meets yours again, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share this with than you."

You watch in silence as he expertly uncorks the bottle and pours a small amount into each glass, the wine swirling like liquid rubies. He hands one to you and then raises his own in a toast. "To unexpected surprises," he says with a knowing smile.

The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and complex with layers of flavor that seem to unfold endlessly as you sip it. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the experience—and when you open them again Joel is watching you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, becoming charged with a desire that's as intoxicating as the wine you're sharing.

"You look so beautiful when you enjoy something.” 

As the last drops of the exquisite wine coat your throat, you lower your glass, your senses heightened by the rich flavors and the man standing before you. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire that mirrors the pulsing need growing within you. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body enveloping you as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I want to show you more than just wine," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "There's a whole world of pleasures I can introduce you to.”

“Joel, I dont know what to say.” 

“Nothin’, you dont have to say anything pretty girl.” 

As the last drops of the Cheval Blanc dance on your tongue, Joel takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reaches out to take your glass, setting it aside on a nearby table. His fingers graze yours in the process, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the subtle hint of stubble along his jawline.

Joel turns back to the wine cabinet to return the precious bottle to its place of honor. As he opens the cabinet door, there's a soft clinking sound, and something metallic tumbles out from one of the shelves, landing with a thud on the plush carpet at your feet.

You both glance down simultaneously. There, gleaming under the soft glow of the office lights, is a pair of handcuffs. They're not just any handcuffs—they're high-quality, with a polished finish that suggests they've been well cared for. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel a heat creeping up your cheeks as you look back at Joel.

"Well, that's not something I expected to show you today," he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of awkwardness.

You stare at the handcuffs and then back at Joel, your heart pounding in your chest. "Are those...?" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nods. "Yes, they are.”

You're not sure what to think, you can only imagine how many women he's used those on, right here in his office. The thought sends a thrill through you, a mix of jealousy and excitement at the idea of being one of those women, of sharing in this secret, kinky side of Joel that he's kept hidden from the world. "I didn't peg you for the type," you say.

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in them replaced by a serious intensity. "There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'," he admits. "And there's a lot I'd like to show you, if you're willing.”

You know that picking up those handcuffs would be crossing a line, stepping into a world of pleasure and exploration that you've never experienced before. But the thought of surrendering control to Joel, of letting him guide you through uncharted territory, is exhilarating.

Slowly, you reach down and pick up the handcuffs, the cold metal warming in your grasp. You hold them out to Joel, your heart racing as you give him a silent nod of consent. A slow, approving smile spreads across his face as he takes the handcuffs from you. 

His fingers brush against your wrists, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You hear the soft click of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. The sensation of being bound, of being at Joel's mercy, is both thrilling and terrifying.

"There," he says, his breath hot against your ear as he steps in front of you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Now you're mine."

The words send a jolt of desire through you, pooling low in your belly. You're aware of the way your body responds to his words, to the dominance radiating off him in waves. "What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

Joel's smile is wicked as he reaches out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger. "Whatever I want," he says, the promise in his voice making your knees weak. "But don't worry, darlin'. I'm going to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”

He guides you toward the large, mahogany desk that dominates his office. The surface is clear, save for a sleek laptop and a few neatly stacked papers. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, he urges you to sit on the edge of the desk, the cool wood against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch.

Joel steps back, his gaze raking over you as he begins to undress and it's as if time slows down, allowing you to take in every inch of his mature, ruggedly handsome form. Joel's suit is tailored to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Each movement he makes stretches the fabric across his toned body. With practiced ease, he removes it and then unbuttons his crisp, white dress shirt. His chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin pulled taut over defined pectoral muscles. A smattering of gray hair dusts his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Joel's hands move to his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, he unbuckles it, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. He slides the leather out of the loops with a slow, deliberate motion. His trousers follow, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his powerful thighs and leave little to the imagination.

His arousal is evident, straining against the soft fabric, and you can't help but feel a thrill at the sight. As he pushes his boxer briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy with desire. His cock is a thing of beauty, perfectly proportioned to his large frame, with a defined shaft and a bulbous head that glistens with a drop of arousal. It's clear that Joel is a man confident in his sexuality and the effect he has on you.

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he teases, but the heat in his gaze tells you he enjoys your appraisal. Joel's eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, the sound of metal against wood sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He produces a pair of scissors. The sight of them in his large, capable hands is intimidating. "These," he says, holding up the scissors for you to see, "are going to help me unwrap my present." His voice is filled with a promise that sends a thrill straight to your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he steps toward you. "Joel, wait—" you start to protest, but the words die on your lips as he places a finger gently against them.

"Shh... trust me," he murmurs, and there's something in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to do anything but nod in silent acquiescence. With a tenderness that belies his strength, Joel takes hold of one of the straps of your dress. The cold steel of the scissors brushes against your skin as he carefully slides the blades beneath the fabric. You feel a momentary resistance and then—snip—the strap gives way, falling limply to your side as Joel cuts through it with practiced ease. The front of your dress sags slightly, revealing more of your cleavage than intended. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Joel's gaze darkens with desire. "You are exquisite," he says reverently, his fingers tracing the newly exposed skin along the neckline of your dress.

Before you can respond, he's moving again, this time cutting away the other strip of fabric that hold up the rest of your dress. The material falls away from your body like petals from a blooming flower, pooling at your waist and leaving you feeling deliciously exposed under his hungry gaze. 

"Joel!" you gasp, both startled and exhilarated by his boldness. "My dress—" 

He silences you with a kiss—a deep, searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you right now. "Don't worry about it," he says when he finally pulls away, “I'll buy you ten more just like it.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, you watch as Joel's attention shifts to your bra. The scissors glint in the soft light of his office, and you can't help but hold your breath as he positions the blades against the delicate fabric of your bra strap.

"I've been wanting to see these since the moment ya walked in baby," he confesses, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift, precise movement, he snips through the strap on one side, then the other. The bra loosens around you, but it's still held in place by the underwire and your modesty is preserved—for now.

Joel sets the scissors aside and hooks his fingers under the remaining fabric of your dress and bra. He tugs gently, peeling away the layers of clothing that separate you from his touch. You lift your hips to assist him, and with a final tug, he frees you from both garments. You're sitting before him now in nothing but your underwear, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

Joel's eyes roam over every inch of exposed skin with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he appreciates what he sees laid out before him on his desk like some kind of erotic feast prepared just for him. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he murmurs appreciatively as his hands follow where his eyes have just been caressing every curve along its way. Joel's hands continue their exploration, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your underwear. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

"Eager, aren't we?" he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear before dipping beneath the fabric. His fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, and a gasp escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. "I like that," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Your body responds to his touch with an eagerness that surprises you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lift up for me, darlin'," he instructs. You do as he says, lifting your hips so he can slide the underwear down your legs. Once they're off, he tosses them aside carelessly, as if they're nothing more than a bothersome impediment to what he truly wants—you. Now you're completely exposed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk with your hands cuffed and your legs spread slightly. You feel vulnerable like this, but there's also a sense of empowerment in knowing that you've driven him to such lengths of desire.

Joel steps back to appreciate the view, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your naked body. "You are a masterpiece," he says reverently, his gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs before traveling up to meet your eyes. "And I am going to worship every inch of you."

Before you can respond, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries his face between your legs. His tongue swipes across your sensitive flesh, and a moan escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you.  Joel's tongue delves deeper, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasp, arching into his touch as he explores you with a skill that leaves you panting for more. His hands squeeze your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. You feel the world around you melt away as his attention focuses solely on bringing you pleasure.

As he works his magic between your legs, Joel's other hand travels up to cup one of your breasts, tweaking a nipple gently before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, heightening the pleasure he's already coaxing from below. Your hips buck against him in response to the exquisite torment and ecstasy that overwhelms you.

You can feel yourself growing wetter by the moment under his ministrations, and when Joel finally takes your clit into his mouth with a soft suckling sound that echoes in the quiet room, it's almost too much to bear. He sucks gently at first before increasing the pressure until your whole body tenses and shudders with release.  As the waves of pleasure crash over you, Joel's mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh. He laps at you with long, languid strokes, drawing out your orgasm until you're left trembling and gasping for air. Your body is still pulsing with the aftershocks when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste as sweet as I imagined," he growls, his voice rough with desire. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. The sight of him tasting you is incredibly erotic, and you feel a fresh surge of arousal at the thought of him enjoying your pleasure so thoroughly. "Come on now, be a good girl and follow me,”  he says, rising to his feet. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs, using it to guide you off the desk and toward the plush leather couch that sits against the far wall of his office. 

You stumble slightly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but Joel's strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He positions you on the couch, your back against the soft leather and your hands still cuffed, placing them above your head. He kneels beside you, his body looming over yours as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy. "Spread those pretty legs for me, darlin'," he murmurs against your lips, and you comply without hesitation, eager for whatever he has planned next. He reaches down to stroke your inner thighs. "You're so wet for me, so ready," he says, his voice filled with approval.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea for more. He responds with a slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

"That's it, such a goodgirl, aren’tcha?" he groans, beginning to move inside you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting and writhing beneath him. "I know baby, s'big but you can take it darlin. C’mon take me inside that pretty pussy.”

His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and you meet each one with a desperation that matches his own. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his low, guttural moans.

Joel's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you feel another orgasm building within you, stronger and more intense than the first. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands. "Wanna feel you make a sweet mess on my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you explode around him, your body convulsing with the force of your release. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're left limp and boneless beneath him. 

Just as the waves of your orgasm subsides, Joel slowly withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He stands before you, his cock glistening with your arousal, and there's a predatory glint in his eyes that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

"On your knees, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl that brooks no argument. You scramble to obey, the handcuffs clinking together as you shift your position on the couch. He steps closer, his cock at eye level, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.

Joel's cock is a sight to behold—a testament to his virility and raw masculinity. It's thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulses. The shaft is smooth and warm to the touch, the skin soft yet taut over the steel-hard erection beneath. His girth is substantial. The head of his cock is a deep shade of pink, almost purple with engorgement, and it glistens with a bead of precum that entices you like the sweet promise of a popsicle on a sweltering summer day. You can't help but lean forward, extending your tongue to taste him. The salty-sweet flavor of his essence dances on your taste buds as you lap at him, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Joel that vibrates through his body and into yours.

"Open wide," he instructs, his hand fisting his shaft as he guides himself toward your waiting mouth. You part your lips obediently, and he slides inside, filling your mouth with his impressive girth. He tastes musky and salty, a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"That's it, baby girl," he groans, his fingers threading through your hair as he begins to thrust gently into your mouth. "Take it nice and deep."

You relax your throat, trying to accommodate his size as he sets a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag, wanting to please him, to show him that you can handle everything he gives you.

"Such a good girl," he praises, his words spurring you on. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

His praise washes over you, filling you with a sense of pride and arousal. You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls you closer, pushing deeper into your throat.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hips jerking as he hits the perfect spot. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble slightly with each thrust. You know he's close, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to the edge fills you with a sense of power.

Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "Wanna come inside ya baby, make a mess in that tasty cunt."

He helps you to your feet and guides you back to the desk, bending you over it so that your ass is in the air and gives you a light smack to one cheek. He reaches between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into your soaked pussy. "Goddamn baby, you're still so wet," he marvels, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting for more.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, slamming into you with a force that makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

"You feel that, darlin'?" he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "That's me claiming what's mine."

His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly.

"Come for me one more time," he commands, his hand reaching around to strum your clit with quick, expert strokes. "Wanna feel you milk my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you come around him, your entire core pulsing around his girth and with a final, powerful thrust, Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release. You can feel him filling you up, the warmth of his seed spreading through you as he groans out his pleasure.

Spent, he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated. After a moment, he pulls out and helps you to stand, his hands gentle as he uncuffs you and massages your wrists.

"You are somethin’ else that's for sure babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

You smile up at him, "I'm glad I could make you feel good," you reply with a soft voice.

Joel chuckles and gives you a quick, playful swat on the ass. "Make me feel good? Baby girl, you blew my mind."

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sleek, black whip. "Next time," he says, holding it up for you to see, "we can play with this. But for now, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."

You stand there for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of your encounter, and then you remember—your dress is in tatters on the floor. You gather the remnants of your clothing, holding them up in front of you like a shield. "What do I do about this?" you ask.

Joel looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What size are you, darlin'?" he asks, reaching for his phone on the desk.

You tell him your size, still feeling a bit flustered as he dials a number and speaks into the receiver. "Hey, Lexi? Yeah, I need you to pick up a dress for our guest here.” He looks at you questioningly, and you repeat your size for his benefit. "Got it. And make it something nice—surprise me.” There's a brief pause as he listens to his assistant's response before hanging up the phone with a satisfied nod. "Lexi will take care of everything," he assures you with a wink that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach once again despite yourself.

True to his word, less than twenty minutes later, there's a knock on the office door. Lexi, Joel's assistant, enters the room with a professional smile and several shopping bags from high-end boutiques. "Here you go, Mr. Miller," she says, setting them down next to where you're standing, like this is completely normal. "I hope these will suffice."

"Thank you, Lexi," Joel responds with a nod of appreciation. "I'm sure they'll be perfect." Lexi exits the room as quickly as she came in, leaving you once again alone with Joel. He gestures toward the bags with a playful smile. "Go on, darlin'. Pick your favorite."

You rummage through the bags and find an elegant black dress that looks like it would fit you perfectly. It's sophisticated yet sexy—just like the man who bought it for you. With a shy smile, you hold it up for Joel to see.

"Perfect choice," he says approvingly. "Why don't you try it on?"

You slip into the dress, feeling its soft fabric hug your curves in all the right places. When you turn around to show Joel, his eyes light up with appreciation. "You look stunning," he murmurs sincerely while walking over towards where you were standing before wrapping an arm around your waist then pulling you closer so he could whisper into your ear "But then again I knew you would." His words send shivers down your spine causing goosebumps to form all over your skin despite how warm it was inside his office at this moment.

 As Joel takes a moment to drink in the sight of you in the new dress, you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes darken with desire, even after everything you've shared, is intoxicating. It's clear that his interest in you isn't just a fleeting attraction—it's something much deeper and more intense.

You smile at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you, Joel," you reply softly. "For everything."

He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. The day's still young. Now what do you say I get ya home safe."

With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you, Joel helps you into your coat—a thoughtful gesture that makes you feel cared for. He escorts you out of his office and down to the parking garage where his sleek black sports car is waiting. The ride back to your place is filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, the chemistry between you two undeniable and electric.

When he pulls up in front of your building, he turns off the engine and turns to face you. "I had a great time with you today," he says sincerely, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I hope this isn't the last time I get to see that beautiful smile of yours."

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling bold despite the vulnerability coursing through you. "I don't think that will be a problem," you say with a playful smirk. 

Joel grins back at, “that's my good girl.” 

As you step out of the car, the cool  air wraps around you. You turn to say goodbye, but he's already getting out of the driver's seat, coming around to your side of the car.

"Let me walk you to your door," he says, offering his arm with a gentlemanly charm that belies the fiery passion you've shared. You accept with a nod, and together, you walk toward the entrance of your building.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the unspoken knowledge of what transpired between you two. As you reach your door, you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you again, Joel, for today," you say softly, "for everything."

Joel smiles at you. "The pleasure was all mine," he replies with a wink and leans in close enough that his breath ghosts over your lips when he speaks again. "But I have a feeling we're just getting started."

With those words hanging in the air between you like a promise of more incredible days to come, Joel takes a step back and heads back toward his car parked by curbside leaving only echoes behind him.

As the door to your building clicks shut behind you, you lean against it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his words—they all send shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You can't help but smile to yourself as you replay the events of the day in your mind, each moment more thrilling than the last.

You're startled out of your reverie by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. Fishing it out, you see a notification on the screen - a new message from Joel. Your heart skips a beat as you open it, curiosity and excitement mingling within you.

1:07PM: Can't wait to unwrap that pretty little package again." 

The words alone are enough to send a jolt of desire through you, but then you notice an attachment—a picture. With trembling hands, you open it and find exactly what you were hoping for - a photo of Joel's large burly hand wrapping around his even thicker, larger cock, hard and ready for you once more. You realize he must have taken that in his car.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight of Joel's arousal, so potent and vivid on your screen. The knowledge that he's thinking about you, that he's hard and ready again so soon after your encounter, sends a thrill of power through you. You type out a quick response, your fingers flying over the keys with a boldness that matches the newfound confidence he's awakened in you.

1:10PM I hope you're not driving and texting that picture. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Miller.  you tease, adding a winking emoji for good measure.

His response is almost immediate, a testament to his eagerness. 

1:10PM Don't worry, darlin'. I'm parked outside your building. Couldn't resist sending you a little something to dream about tonight.

You can't help but smile at his words, your body already aching for his touch once more. But before you can respond, another message comes through with an address.

1:11PM Tomorrow, 8 PM. My place. Wear something comfortable and easy to take off.

1:12PM Yes sir.

1:13PM Oh baby you're walking Into whole new territory calling me sir. I'm going to put that pretty mouth to good use tomorrow.

Just as you're about to put your phone down a last message comes through 

1:13PM And leave the underwear at home.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

first moments

words: 1.5k

warnings: mom!reader, dad!rafe, established relationship, brief hospital setting, anxiety (from rafe)

“rafe, wanna do chest to chest?” you hum, eyes mostly closed, the exhaustion from labor still affecting you.

“i…” he stares at you, and then at your son, resting against your chest, maternity dress pulled open so he's against your skin, his face resembling the exact same one rafe makes when he's sleeping. “its okay, you keep holding him.”

“okay.” you say, looking down at your son. it didn't take you long to decide on a name. leon andres cameron. leon after rafes grandfather and andres after your own. a good strong family name. 

“he's so perfect.” rafe whispers, his voice cracking slightly.

“come closer.” you beckon, rafe moving his chair closer, but still keeping his distance, making you frown. “what's wrong?”

rafes mouth opens, but no words come out. you pause, hand petting over leons back.

“wait…” your mind starts to piece together, still foggy from the delivery and drugs. “you haven't held him yet.”

“i-” rafe stumbles over his words, knowing he's been caught. “i can't. he's too tiny. too perfect. i-i don't want to ruin him.”

“ruin him?” you frown. “rafe, you're his father. get over here.”

you struggle to scooch over on the hospital bed, but manage to make room for rafe to sit down next to you. he even sits carefully, gnawing at his lip as you turn leon over, keeping him asleep as you turn him face up, supporting his neck the whole time.

“just cradle your arms. it's okay, you'll get used to it.” you watch as rafe moves his arms before placing leon in them, having to cover your mouth when the sudden urge to cry hits you, leon looking even smaller being held by your husband.

“i love him.” rafe whispers, voice cracking, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. “i love him so much.”

“look how relaxed he is in your arms.” you coo. “i knew you'd be a good dad.”

--

“god, im so nervous.” rafe looks in the backseat where you’re sitting, leon buckled tight into the carseat.

“its okay.” you hum, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “just drive slow.” “yeah, of course.” rafe nods. he barely puts the car above 15 miles per hour the entire ride home. leon thankfully stays asleep, you’re not sure if you could have handled just leaving the hospital and having him crying on the way home.

“okay, here.” rafe takes a deep breath as he pulls the car into the garage.

“you got his carseat?” you ask. your body is still recovering from birth, and you’re not sure if you can lift anything up without tearing.

“yeah.” rafe undoes the carseat carefully as you get out and unlock the house, happy to be home after two days spent in the hospital.

“mmm.” you breathe in the fresh air. “my eyes are so happy after all that fluorescent light.”

“um- watch out baby.” rafe hates having to have you move out of the way so quickly, but he can hear leon beginning to fuss and needs to get him inside.

you giggle and step away, watching as rafe quickly rushes to unbuckle him. he looks to you to get him out of the carrier, but you allow rafe to scoop him up, shushing him and gently rocking him back and forth.

--

“i got it.” rafe offers.

“no, he's hungry.” you groan, already feeling your breasts swelling with milk just from hearing his cry. “i can tell.”

“im sorry, baby.” rafe sighs, staying in bed as he tries to get back to sleep. no point having both of you completely exhausted.

you manage to settle leon, feeding him in the rocking chair rafe got you before you gave birth. he almost wakes when you transfer him back to the crib, but you get him down and back to rafe, crawling into bed next to him.

“i wish i could do more.” rafe sighs. so much of you is required from leon, not just the pregnancy but now needing to feed him. rafe tries to take care of anything else you could need, but he struggles with not knowing how to do things as basic as changing diapers.

“you're learning fast, rafe. it's okay.” you move closer so rafe can hold you, snuggling into your back, his hand gently rubbing over your hip.

“i don't deserve you.” you know it's just the exhaustion talking. you grip his hand in yours, squeezing three times, saying the words without needing to speak.

“we should sleep while he's asleep.” you say, rafe nodding and pressing kisses to your shoulders and upper back until you're pulled back to sleep.

--

“shh, leon, it's okay.” rafe looks around for you, surely you must have heard leons cries. you said you'd be just a minute, running to the beauty aisle to grab your conditioner before returning to rafe shopping for groceries.

rafe pushes the brim of the carrier back, his heart breaking as his sons little face scrunches with big tears rolling down his cheeks.

rafe isn't sure what to do, so he just lets his instincts guide him as he quickly undoes the seatbelt and lifts leon into his chest, being careful to hold his head just as you instructed.

the second leon is against rafes, his cries lessen, and then all together subside as rafe bounces gently.

“is he okay?” rafe looks up to see you hustling down the aisle towards him.

“yeah, he was upset but i got him.” rafe pats leons back gently, turning his head to press a kiss against his cheek.

“okay.” you let out a sigh of relief, tossing your conditioner into the grocery cart. “want me to take him?”

“no, im good.” rafe shifts leon a little as you start to walk, pushing the carrier and loading the bottom up with more groceries, especially all the things you couldn't have while pregnant but are now safe despite still breastfeeding.

rafe doesn't miss the way you keep looking over at him with light in your eyes, excitement evident at seeing how comfortable rafe is becoming with leon held snuggly in his arms.

--

“are you sure?” you ask, frowning as your eyes flicker between leon laying on the couch cushion and rafe sitting next to him, focus on your baby as he makes silly faces at him.

“baby, i know i struggled at first, but this is one weekend. you have plenty of milk pumped. ill be fine.” rafe scoops leon into his arms as he stands, walking towards you.

“besides, if i need help i can always call your mom. even wheezie, you know she'll be happy to see leon.” rafe shifts the baby to one arm while his free hand comes to cup your cheek. “go. please, i will miss you and leon will too, but you deserve a break.”

“okay.” you nod, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss to rafes lips before also kissing leon, who lets out a familiar cooing sound.

“im gonna text my girls.” you can't hide the excitement in your voice, pulling out your phone to confirm you'll be able to go to the girls spa weekend away. 

“i want nightly face times with you though baby.” you poke leons little nose, whose cheeks stretch into a smile.

--

“oh my god, rafe, is everything okay?” you squeal, squinting at the screen as if it'll somehow make leon appear.

“yes! fine, i promise.” rafe points the camera down so you can see leon happily on his lap, already looking tired as bedtime is quickly approaching.

“why didn't you pick up the first time?” you ask, a lot calmer now that you have eyes on your baby.

“leon and i were just getting home. i took him to the park. he couldn't really do anything but be in the carrier but he liked watching the other kids play.” rafe looks down at leon, giving him a little tickle under the chin. “isn't that right buddy?”

“did you-”

“yes, i put sunscreen on him. and he wore a hat. and-” rafe stresses before you can interrupt. “i reapplied sunscreen after an hour.”

“you're the best.” you smile. “you know i never doubted you rafe, it's just-” you take a deep sigh. “i worry so much about him. and making sure he's happy.”

“and he is.” rafe assured you. “look at his little face.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you look at your husband and your son, snuggled together on the couch. you quickly take a screenshot while they both have smiles on their faces.

“you're such a good mama. leons lucky to have you, and so am i.”

the tears are now falling down your cheeks as you smile. “i love you.”

“i love you too. and we miss you, but go enjoy your night with the girls!”

“okay.” you nod. “you're right. ill be home tomorrow around noon.”

“got it.” rafe holds the camera closer to leon. “say bye bye to mommy, leon.”

the call ends with his smiling face looking back at yours.

sfw taglist: @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen

[sanguineterrain]

Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.

Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...

Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.

I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.

And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.

❤️❤️❤️

This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓

Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.

****

You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.

She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.

You take her home.

Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.

You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.

You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.

You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.

You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.

"Hey, Jaybird," you say.

Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.

"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."

You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.

Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.

"That's a baby," he says.

You nod. "Yep."

Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"

"How would that even work, Jason?"

"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."

"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"

"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"

"I found her."

Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."

"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"

"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."

Jason pouts. "Are not."

You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.

"Are too. Wanna hold her?"

Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"

You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."

"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."

"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."

Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.

"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."

You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.

"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.

"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."

"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.

"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."

Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."

Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."

You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.

"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.

"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."

"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."

You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.

"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."

[silent-stories]

𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: lying in bed with jj, you see the bruises on his stomach.

"You know that you snore?" You ask the boy lying in your bed, next to you, one arm under the pillow and the other thrown lazily around your waist.

That morning, it's hot in your room, but it's not the unbearable hot of the days that makes you want to rip off your skin and find a place with free air conditioning, but the heat that makes you want to stay in bed late before having a cold coffee and go for a walk by the sea with your favorite person.

The sun's rays filter through the open window and in the distance you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the reef.

A soft chuckle escapes JJ's parted lips as a pair of ocean-colored eyes meet yours. "Good morning to you too." His voice is husky but his tone is clearly amused, his hair messy.

It is indeed, a good day, when you wake up in your bed with him next to you but that would be too cheesy to say so early in the morning.

You can't help but smile and before you know it he has you pushed against him and his lips are on yours.

He always tastes like weed, alcohol and the sea.

As he wrap his arm around your waist, the sheet slides off his body, revealing his bare chest and your gaze falls on the bruises on his rib cage, like it did the night before. This time, however, you can't help but observe the dark blue and purple marks on his skin for more than a few seconds.

He looks at you for a moment after breaking the kiss, noticing what caught your attention and with a huff, he drops onto the bed next to you. The matress springs make a slight creak.

"Don't." He says.

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." His eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

You slowly reach out, your fingertips grazing his stomach, delicately tracing the soft outlines of the bruises there.

"I fell, I-"

"Yeah. I know" You want to be mad because he persists in not opening up to you but the look into his eyes lost in the void stops you every time.

You both know you're lying and you both know the other is doing the same.

"You know you can stay here right? Whenever you want."

Your tone is soft as you ask that, turning towards him, resting your elbow on the mattress and settling your head on your hand, looking at his profile: the shape of his lips, the blue of his eyes in the sunlight streaming through the window, a few strands of blonde hair falling on his forehead.

"If... you have any kind of problem, you're welcome here. Any time of the day or night, Jay. You know that, right?"

You only realize you're still tracing imaginary patterns on his skin when you feel his fingers meet yours, his hand on his stomach to find yours and lace your fingers together.

When he finally turns his head towards you, there's a slight smile on his lips and it's not his usual sarcastic smirk or the grin he shows to John B when he is talking about Sarah or when he manages to escape from a cop. It's softer, more sincere.

"I know."

You stare into his clear eyes for a moment and decide to believe him.

You sigh, “okay.”

You don't know how much your offer means to him, you don't know that every other girl he's laid in bed with in the past never cared about a busted lip or a scratch on an arm unless it was ruining his pretty face.

You don't know that if he had been any other girl that morning he wouldn't have stayed in your bed but would have left before the sun even rose.

With you it was different. You cared. And for the first time, he cared too.

Your room wasn't like his house or even like the chateau. It was becoming his favorite place so quickly that it almost amazed him.

And you were becoming his favorite person, but that didn't surprise him that much.

It was getting impossible not to love the sound of your laughter and the way you could reassure him with a simple touch.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You smile and reach out to brush the blonde hair out of his eyes.

His hand was still holding yours.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

imagine some Gothamites pretending to be in trouble or hurt and calling for a specific bat just because they have a crush on them, but the batkids purposely mess it up by sending another bat.

they also do this because they're little shits.

[i told myself i won't make this too long, but oh well]

scenario 1:

a woman, who's not even in trouble, she mostly wants to see Nightwing's new suit because.. oh.. the new suit causes his behind to form well.

Woman: Nightwing, Nightwing! Where are you? I need help.

Robin! Tim, hops down from the tall building and mind you, his skateboard tucked under his arm: Hi, Ma'am! Sorry, Nightwing is unavailable tonight. I, Robin, will help you.

Woman, judges the skateboard before looking at Tim: Uh. Thank you, Robin, but I was specifically asking for Nightwing. Is he- he around?

Robin! Tim, cheeks red from the cold, shakes his head: No, Ma'am. Sorry.

Woman: That's... That's okay. I'll figure out my problem on my own. Thank you again, kid.

Robin! Tim nods at her way before climbing back up the building.

Nightwing appears from the darkness, laughing his ass off. Tim joins his older brother until their stomach ache from the laughing session.

--

scenerio 2:

young teenage girl with pink highlights on her hair bikes through the neighborhood and out of nowhere, just falls down on the side of the road, on the grass. but gently. purposely.

Teenager, holds her ankle: Ow, ow. Is The-The Signal around? I kind of.. Uh... Fell.

Robin, comes out from the trees and he looks even brighter than ever with the sun still out: That was kind of careless of you.

Teenager, a bit annoyed: Robin? Don't you only patrol at night? Where's The Signal?

Robin, adjusts his katana and shrugs: You'd be surprised that I happen to do this at morning too. Well. Occasionally.

Teenager, skeptical: Uhuh.

Robin just stares at her, not even answering about The Signal. it makes the teenager a bit uncomfortable.

Teenager, manages to stand: Anyways... I think I feel better now. I'll head home.

Robin, lips twitching to a smirk: Stay safe.

behind the trees, Duke and Tim giggle like little children.

Robin: I must admit.. That was quite hilarious.

--

scenario 3:

two loud men exit the bar. they've been talking about Spoiler and Black Bat inside, fangirling like teenagers about their crushes.

little did they know, Red Hood was inside that bar as well.

Man 1: Fuck, I'm too drunk. Is Spoiler there? I need help to go home.

they are not even drunk.

Man 2, hides a smile behind his hand: How about Black Bat? We poor men need some saving.

before they can even lift their mouths to laugh, Red Hood apprears from the alley, gun on his hand.

Red Hood, voice so deep from the helmet: Need a lift, boys? There's enough room for both of you on my bike.

Man 1 gulps and Man 2 nearly passes out.

Red Hood, smirks: Not the person you wanted to see, huh?

Man 1: Uh.... You are a sight to see, Red Hood. Uh, Sir.

Man 2: But no, tha-thank you.

Man 1: We can manage. Right, dude?

Man 2: Right. Of course.

Red Hood, wants to laugh so bad but he has to keep this persona first: Well, let me know if you need anything.

both men run to the other direction. one of them even trips.

Red Hood hears Steph and Cass' lively laughs through the comms.

--

scenario 4:

a young adult man steps outside his building, doesn't mind the drizzle from the Gotham sky.

Man: Shit. I forgot my keys.

Man, looks up at the building: Is Red Robin out there? I need help in finding the keys to my apartment.

there's no sign of the vigilante so the man decides to just re enter his building.

out of nowhere, a sound of someone landing behind him makes him turn around and he is faced with Black Bat, holding his keys around her gloved hand.

Man, shocked: Um.. Hey. You found- you found my keys.

Black Bat doesn't respond, just lifts the keys higher.

Man: Tha-thank you.

Black Bat nods before grappling to the darkness.

the young man feels stupid for doing what he did, which is throw his keys behind the dumpster. and he didn't even get to see Red Robin.

somewhere, Black Bat joins Spoiler and Red Robin on top of a building to share some laughs and enjoy some Batburgers.

--

scenario 5:

a couple of bestfriends, woman and man, stop by at the side of the road. they were gossiping about Red Hood's arms, modulated voice and height, saying how sexy he looks.

out of stupidity, the man stabs his switchblade on one of the wheels of his car.

Woman, nods at him before calling for help: Someone help us! We don't have a spare tire.

Man, heart beating so fast: Red Hood, can you please help us? Red Hood!

after a few minutes of longing, Nightwing, Spoiler and The Signal appear from behind their car, startling the two of them.

Nightwing, grins cheekily: Good evening.

Signal, smiles: You called for help?

Spoiler, huge smile on her face with a spare tire on her hand: Glad we saw this lying around.

it's actually a spare tire at the back of the man's car.

the woman and man exchange glances, slightly nervous.

Man, touches his chest: Oh, thank goodness.

Woman, pretends to be in relief as well: Thank God for you, guys. We appreciate it.

Signal and Spoiler help each other in putting the tire.

Nightwing, grin hasn't faded: Sorry, the Red Hood is a bit busy tonight.

Signal: Maybe try calling out for him some other time?

Spoiler: We would give his number to you, but he's kind of a private person.

both the woman and man blush, embarassment creeping on them.

by the alley, Red Hood watches the rest of the batkids, a low chuckle on his lips.

--

a bonus:

a bunch of teenagers play around under the rain, splashing mud on their clothes. one of the blonde girls call out, "Robin, come play with us!" then the rest of her playmates giggle at that. they idolize the young hero.

and who comes out of the darkness? the rest of the batkids except for Robin. they make sure that the children are able to go home and are safe.

meanwhile, Damian is at the Manor with a stuffy nose as he is sick due to playing with his pets under the rain last weekend.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie gets beaten on by Jason and his crew and Reader (who has a crush on him) sees him limping to his van and she walks over to him and helps him into the van, drives him home and then does her best to patch him up and help him, maybe ending with a sweet kiss? Request by @somethingvicked

Mentions of violence, blood. Little bits of angst sprinkled with fluff and a speechless Eddie. mdni.

Eddie x fem!reader.

🖤

Not canon compliant because Jason is alive in this for story purposes, Vecna is gone for good though. Bye bye you grinchy ass looking bitch 💁‍♀️

🖤

The first hit came before Eddie could even dodge it. Jason's fist hits his face with precision, then another blow to his stomach doubles Eddie over.

"We all know you killed Chrissy and the others, you freak, I don't give a shit what the chief of police said, you did it" Jason's face is red with fury, lost in a haze of violence. One of his friends holds Eddie's arms around his back, so he can't defend himself.

Which is when Eddie has the extremely dumb idea to use his head to smash into Carver's nose. It works in the fact that it sends him stumbling back...doesn't help the pain he's already feeling though, the force of the hit sends another wave of agony through him.

Fuck, did he actually break his nose on Carver's face?

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, he did not survive almost getting eaten alive by demobats to get killed by Jason and his friends. Jason stumbles to his feet and the grip on his shoulders tightens courtesy of David and Liam.

"Tell me what you did to her, Munson! Say it, you fucking asshole" Jason screams at him, Eddie wants to tell him everything, everything that went down during Spring Break, the Demobats, The Upside Down, Vecna. All of it.

But he can't. Nda's were signed and let's be real, Jason wouldn't believe him even if Eddie did tell the truth. He was still trying to wrap his head around it himself. "I didn't hurt her man. I didn't hurt any of them I swear it" Eddie chokes out. His ribs are aching and he's sure his bandages have come loose.

There's another thump that catches him off guard, hits the sensitive spots where the bats tore into him and he's blinking back tears of pain.

He expects another blow to knock him off his feet but when he looks up Jason's fist is cocked and he's in position to hit Eddie again but the hit doesn't come. Instead, Jason's face crumples in pain and he drops his hand, within seconds Eddie is tossed unceremoniously onto the floor and Jason and his friends are gone.

What the fuck?

He doesn't know how he does it but he manages to drag his ass up into a standing position and limps all the way to his van, tries to calm his racing heart and figures a smoke might settle his nerves.

His fingers are shaking as he tries to light up, then he almost drops it when a soft voice comes out of nowhere.

"Are you okay?"

🖤

You saw Eddie limping to his van just as you were ready to bike home. Even from where you were you could see the blood on his shirt. Jason and his friends must have caught up to him, you have no doubt about it.

Everyone knew what happened at Spring Break, at least with the murders. How Eddie was blamed then cleared, Hawkins finding the real culprit Henry Creel, a deranged serial killer.

To be honest you never believed that Eddie had anything to do with the murders in the first place, there were rumours about the state of the bodies, bones broken and twisted in ways that couldn't be natural, eyeballs sunken in and jaws broken. It was the stuff of nightmares.

Some idiots thought that Eddie was a vessel for satan and that's what Dungeons and Dragons was about, a satanic ritual. It was ridiculous. Your friend's cousin played D&D and it was just a fantasy game. Nothing satanic about it.

Without thinking you head over to Eddie. Maybe you could help? You were a whiz with first aid and he looked like he needed patched up and like he could use a friend. Quietly you approach him as he tries to light his cigarette, his hands are shaking so you reach out to steady them.

"You okay?" He peers up at you, big brown eyes wide and kinda like a deer in headlights, he really was beautiful. Normally being this close to someone you had a crush on for almost the whole school year would be mortifying but you were more worried about his injuries than your racing heart right now.

"Hi Eddie" you murmur and he's still gawking at you but accepts your help to light the cigarette, watches you curiously as he takes the first drag.

"Uh hi sweetheart" you and Eddie talked a few times, every time you did he would have a cheeky smile (all dimples) and a cute nickname for you. It did not help with your crush one bit, even though he probably called everybody some sort of nickname, it still made your heart skip a beat.

"Carver did a number on you" you wince as you take in the cuts and bruises on his arm, the blood on his face "I can drive you home, take a look at the injuries?" He nods and tosses you his keys.

You help Eddie into the van as best as you can then head inside. He gives you directions to head to his trailer and you get him there and inside with minimal fuss.

"Okay, you'll need to take your shirt off" you murmur as Eddie points you in the direction of a first aid kit. Eddie grins, "Trying to get me naked or something princess?" he teases and you do your best to hide how flustered you are.

It wasn't your fault, his eyes were so pretty and the way his voice deepened at the end of the sentence gave you butterflies. Shit. This was so not the time.

You locate the first aid kit and get out new bandages, wipes and plasters, scissors and painkillers.

When you head back into Eddie's room he's propped up on the bed. He's shirtless, tattoos on full display and from your vantage point you can see some scars where his bandages have fallen off, silvery scars that look a lot like bite marks...

Eddie looks nervous which is rare for him so you don't comment on the scars, you're curious though but don't want to push. "Do they still hurt?" you ask quietly and his smile dims just a bit.

"A little, not as bad as when it first happened though, fucking bats" he curses then his gaze widens as it meets yours. Bats?

"Bats?" you probe gently and make sure that his bandages are secure again, from the small peeks that you can see, the bite marks are healing but still red, some are healed or are silvery scars. It looks like he was mauled, the thought makes your hands shake.

He sighs, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you princess" your heart skips a beat again but you ignore that, still curious what he means.

"Yeah? Try me. Any person in this stupid town can see that it's cursed or something isn't right" Eddie bites his lips and he looks like he wants to tell you, he really does.

"I wish I could sweetheart but it's uh complicated, nda's and cover-ups and shit" Oh. Well shit. "But yeah bats, big bats, not cute ones either but ugly little shits with super sharp teeth and claws. I can let you know that much"

You're stunned but then some of the things that you've heard Dustin say to Jason and other people who don't believe that Eddie's innocent come back to you.

"He's not a murderer. He's a hero. You stupid assholes don't deserve what he did for you"

So Eddie was protecting the town? Dustin too and maybe other people were involved? You smile and begin to clean up Eddie's cuts. "Hmm, Dustin's right then" Eddie looks confused and you lean forward to clean the blood on his nose.

"Oh yeah? What did the little butthead say?" he asks with a fond expression, you giggle at his tone. Like Dustin is his little brother or something, it's sweet. It's sweet how he looks after people in Hellfire Club, and it pisses you off that people just think he's a freak and don't look past their stupid prejudices to see how good Eddie is.

"That you're a hero. I believe that Eddie Munson, then again I've always thought you were a hero" it's Eddie's turn to be speechless as he gawks at you.

"You think I'm a hero?" he looks like he can't believe that anyone would ever think that about him and it hurts your heart so much.

"Well yeah, anyone who takes lost sheep under their wing and protects them like you do? Or risks his life for a town that can't see past their own stupid prejudices to see what's really happening? Yeah, I think you're a hero Eddie" your speech is impassioned and a bit of a rant so you're breathless, eyes sparkling at the end of it.

Once again Eddie is speechless but not for the reasons you think. "You're beautiful" he murmurs awed and you're flustered once again. Damn it.

"Maybe the hero gets the girl?" he asks softly and there goes your traitor heart again. Does he mean you? Or some other girl maybe. The thought hurts your heart but you plaster a smile on your face.

"I'm not sure any girl could resist those pretty eyes Eddie" a faint blush coats his cheeks at your compliment and he fakes a swoon, smiles at you all dimples and cuteness.

"Flattery works with me princess, not only am I a hero but I also have pretty eyes" you giggle at his overdramatic gestures.

He's all patched up now so he puts his shirt back in and a funny tension hangs in the air. "So, uh would you like to hang out again? when I'm not all beat up and shit. Maybe Friday?" Oh. You beam and nod feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Like a date?" you ask hopefully and he's still blushing faintly. It's so cute and you're sure tonight you're going to be squealing over every interaction the two of you had.

"Yeah, a date princess, he moves closer and the way he's looking at you is sending your heart into overdrive. "can, can I kiss you?" He asks and you nod, wanting nothing more than to press your lips against his plush pink ones.

He strokes your cheek and then his lips meet yours, it starts off gentle and hesitant, then it deepens and you gasp pulling him closer. You both come away a little bit dazed and you giggle as he flops dramatically on the bed.

"Now that was some kiss sweetheart, he beams at the sound of your giggles, when you sober up you bite your lip and decide to tell him a secret.

"I never thought you'd notice me" you say it quietly but he still hears it and gapes like you've truly stunned him this time.

"Seeing your pretty smile dragged me out of bed most days sweetheart, even more than d&d but that's our little secret" he winks and you make a zipping motion. Before you leave Eddie pulls you into another kiss then another.

Okay, so maybe you could be a little late to return your movie at Family Video if it meant kissing Eddie some more.

🖤💌

[supercutszns]

luke castellan comforting his gf?

btw i love ur work 💗💗

wc + pairing: 0.9k, luke castellan x reader

oh i really needed this,,, if i stop writing comfort fics i’m dead i will literally write a thousand of them over and over they could be exact replicas and i would not care. sorry this took such a long time i've been in a big writing slump and i really don't like this but we have to start somewhere <3 every time someone requests a comfort fic i get very happy inside! i know this isn’t my best work like at all but hopefully it’s enough for now

Luke’s good at finding hidden things. A playing card wedged between wooden panels. A camper that always trudges at the back of the line. He can find something at its most sheltered and pluck it right back where it belongs. He’s good at that with you, too. When you wedge yourself somewhere tough, he slips through the cracks every damn time. 

You’re exhausted. You don’t know what time it is, how long you’ve been here, or how you can stop it. You just couldn’t get up this morning and your siblings let you stay sick. You imagine an alternate version of this day over and over, where you’re up and alive and contributing to something. But that’s not today. But it should be. You dream it until tears press against your eyes but you’ve got no energy to push them out. 

Feeling like this isn’t a constant occurrence, but it happens. Luke finds his way in each time, wedging open the slightest crack in your door or coming in through the window. He comes bearing gifts, he jokes. You don’t ask him where he gets the things he brings you—snacks, chocolate, plastic figurines to place on your windowsill. Menial things you like. Luke has his methods, and you know he loves you too much to reveal them. 

“Got some offerings for a goddess here,” he says when he sits down on your bed, knuckles brushing your arm. If you’re too tired to answer he never minds, he just crosses his legs and pulls your head into his lap. He smooths the hair away from your face to massage your scalp, and lets you rest. He doesn’t ask you for anything. Doesn’t force you to speak. You do when you’re ready. 

“I don’t feel good,” you admit hoarsely, blinking back tears. 

“That’s okay.” He leans down to kiss your forehead. “You just rest.”

It almost makes you laugh. “I’ve been in bed all day, Luke.”

“Mm, yeah, but you’re not really resting,” he says without judgement, letting you cling to his body as you pull yourself up to a seated position. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

You press your face into his neck so the warmth can distract you. Sometimes you say a lot, sometimes you say a little, like your mouth has separated from your body. It almost always ends with, “I feel like shit. I don’t know what to do.”

Luke is patient with you, but never overbearing. He knows you shut down when things are laid on too thick. “Want to take a nap?” He offers, threading his hands through your hair. “I can take you to my cabin, it’s cooler.”

He’s right, so you let him, and he steals you away without a fuss. The sheets smell like him, so even if you want to be alone, he still grounds you. When you fall into his bed you curl into a ball like an armadillo, like you can squeeze the rot out of your bones if you compress hard enough. Luke slots himself beside you after confirming it’s what you want, pressing kisses into your shoulder, until you turn into him and starfish over his body. “You let me know if you need anything, angel,” he murmurs, swiping your hair away from your face. “I’ve got you.” 

You manage to doze off, with his arms loose around your back and his chest underneath you. When you wake up later with a kiss of late afternoon breeze, you’re struck with the disorienting feeling of a good sleep. “Luke,” you mutter, digging your nose into his neck. 

He rouses too. “How’re you feeling?”

“Still bad.”

“Mm.” He kisses your forehead, squeezes you against him. “That’s okay. Want me to go grab you some food?” 

“Can we talk a little before?” 

“‘Course,” he says gently. He ghosts a kiss over your jaw. 

Sleep has pieced together some of the words you need, and Luke brings them out of you with hardly any effort. You have what’s probably a fragmented reason at best, but he doesn’t care. He keeps you anchored to him as long as you want him to, rubbing your back and letting you take your time. Once you’re done with the conversation, Luke diligently wipes your tears and kisses you. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Anytime,” he grins. “I mean, I do love you. Nothing else I’d rather do.”

You let your forehead rest against his. Your throat feels thick but you get the words out, “I’m worried I’m going to feel this way forever.”

It doesn’t feel good to admit. Luke’s face softens, and he presses a kiss between your brows. “You won’t,” he murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “You’ve got time.”

The length of the day moving around you matters a little less when Luke shields you from it. His knuckles rub across the ridges in your back until you’re sure the texture of his shirt is imprinted on your face. 

After he goes off to bring you some food, you find the strength to go wash your face in the bathroom. It’s practically nothing. Practically. At least you settle back into his bed, the blankets aren’t as heavy as before. You don’t feel better yet, but Luke’s got plenty of time for you. (He’ll pawn his kids off to Chris. None of them need this grilled cheese anyway.)

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz @ash-williamsss @sucker-4-angst @kitkat-writes-stuff @too-deviant @huang-the-geek @daughterofthemoons-stuff @jennapancake @idunnowhattonamethis @jarofshells @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @lauraisthebestyapper @nininehaaa

[sysmedsaresexist]

We're curious, since you apparently were anti-endo in the past Was there any specific event or conversation or experience that got you to start contemplating the idea you might have been wrong? I know you've mentioned talking to a buncha big name docs and going "okay I think I'm on the wrong side of this debate" but what got you to the point of even bringing it up with them in a genuinely open minded way? We think its an interesting topic for people who've escaped any kind of shithead mindset, not just anti-endo stuff, and so we're oft curious what pulls people out of those pits

This has been a loooonnggggg time coming.

I wish there was just one event that did it, if it was that simple I'd be putting everyone I come into contact with into that situation.

I spoke with Kymbra Clayton in early 2021 about her paper, Critiquing the Requirement of Oneness. It was on a bunch of, "proof endos exist," lists, and it didn't sit right with me. I was surprised to find that she wasn’t... quite anti endo, but she was upset that her work was being used to support them. Her paper was specifically about the shift in clinical circles from final fusion to functional multiplicity as a possible treatment goal. It sort of sent me deeper on the anti side, but it made me realize that, holy crap, I can talk to these people???

So I emailed Colin Ross later that year, desperate to prove someone else wrong, and despite numerous back and forth emails, he was completely pro endo. I never spoke about that conversation until I made my post about it... jeez, what, two weeks ago? What even is time.

But from there, I worked through other doctors, pro and anti, from both my personal, professional circles, and anyone else who would respond to inquiries about their work on whatever social media they were active on. Mostly, as therapists, they stressed the importance of understanding and kindness, regardless of personal beliefs.

I ended up helping a lot of endogenic systems learn about DID, and I realized that, wow, shocking, being nice facilitates conversation. As I got nicer, people were more willing to talk to me about their experiences. I saw how many people were really struggling and I realized that I wanted to help them more than I wanted to be right.

I got REALLY goddamn tired of hearing, "we don't have DID," and I realized I had to concede on that point. There was ZERO conversation to be had if I couldn't get my head around that. But if not DID, then what?

The more I heard, the more I shaped my own thoughts and understanding, the more I broadened my academic searches (wow, there's more terms to Google than just "DID trauma"), and the research was just overwhelming.

I wanted so badly to see the Stanford Tulpa studies fail that I actually started to enjoy the other work of the doctors involved (specifically Tanya Luhrmann, Michael Lifshitz is a little out there for me, but he sure is passionate). The more I read, the more I understood what they were hoping to accomplish and prove, and the more I saw ways that this kind of research can help people.

I don't agree with everything, but I'm still excited to see where it goes, and I realized it's okay to have mixed feelings and opinions, as long as I could be respectful about it.

I've been sneaking out endo safe content for about a year now, adding it on as the last tags. I've discussed at length about my changing beliefs. I'm shocked that no one noticed??

But I didn't actually change my stance publicly until the antis turned on me.

With this new round of antis from TikTok, they were posting stuff about DID that wasn't correct. At all. Some of it was disgustingly wrong. I tried to correct them, gave them pointers and resources to use, explained things they weren't understanding. I gave an amazing play by play of how @sophieinwonderland was going to tear their post apart, and managed to get it pretty damn close to what actually happened! That was fun.

And in return, they called me an endo and started an actual smear campaign against me.

(Hi, friendos, another reminder to get off my blogs and block me, please)

It was the straw that broke the back. I had held on the anti label specifically to be able to work within the anti community, but I was clearly not anti, these were clearly not my people, and they weren't interested in learning. Their actions and behaviour were beyond low. I wanted nothing to do with them.

But, I mean, I guess some people noticed my slow shift, because when I did reach out into the endo community just before I made my first Colin Ross post, they were quick to pull me in without question.

The acceptance and kindness that has been shown to me is... breathtaking. I can't think of a better word. The conversations that I've been having with people have been more interesting and beneficial than ever before.

Syscourse needs to involve actual conversation, and I've finally found that on the pro side.

TL;dr I wanted to prove endos wrong SO badly that I accidentally proved them right

[skywalker1dream]

Title: Safe Haven

max verstappen x reader

note: hope you like it!! drink water and eat healthy

Warnings: Mentions of emotional and physical abuse, angst, hurt/comfort. mentions of j*s verstappen. anything else?

---------------------------

Max Verstappen stormed into the Red Bull garage, his fists clenched and his jaw set in a hard line. The race had been a disaster. An unexpected engine failure had cost him a podium finish, and his father's harsh words still echoed in his ears. He needed to get away, to find some semblance of peace. And he knew exactly where to find it.

As he pushed through the throng of team members and journalists, he spotted you waiting by his trailer. Your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, the storm within him quieted. You offered him a soft, understanding smile, and he quickened his pace.

"Max," you said gently as he approached.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. You could feel the tension in his body, the barely contained rage and frustration.

"It's okay," you whispered, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "I'm here."

Max took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent. "I just want to go home," he murmured, his voice muffled against your neck. "I need to get out of here."

You nodded, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Let's go then," you said softly. "We can head back to the hotel and you can relax. I'll take care of everything."

Max managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere."

The drive back to the hotel was quiet, the silence punctuated only by the occasional sniffle from Max. You reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow.

Once in the privacy of your hotel room, Max seemed to crumble. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. You sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently.

He shook his head. "Not really," he admitted. "I just… I can't get his words out of my head. He was so angry, so disappointed."

"Your dad?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

Max nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He said I was a failure. That I'd never live up to his expectations."

Your heart ached for him. You knew how much his father's approval meant to him, and how devastating it was when he didn't receive it. You gently cupped his face, making him look at you.

"Max, listen to me," you said firmly. "You are not a failure. You are an incredible driver and an even more incredible person. Your father's words don't define you."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he took a shuddering breath. "I just… I don't know how to deal with it anymore," he confessed. "It's like no matter what I do, it's never enough for him."

You pulled him into another hug, holding him tightly. "You don't have to deal with it alone," you reminded him. "You have me. You always have me."

Max clung to you, the dam finally breaking as he let out a choked sob. You held him through it, whispering soothing words and stroking his hair.

After a while, his sobs subsided, replaced by exhausted silence. He pulled back slightly, looking at you with a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For being here. For understanding."

You smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. "Always," you said simply. "Now, why don't you get some rest? I'll stay right here with you."

Max nodded, finally allowing himself to relax. He lay down on the bed, and you settled beside him, your fingers running gently through his hair.

As he drifted off to sleep, Max felt a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a long time. You were his safe haven, his sanctuary. And as long as he had you, he knew he could face whatever challenges came his way.

--------------------------

The following morning, you woke to find Max still peacefully asleep, his head resting on your chest. The previous night's tension had eased from his face, replaced by a calm serenity that made your heart swell with love and protectiveness. You gently shifted, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," you replied, brushing a kiss on his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

He took a moment to think, then sighed. "Better, I think. Thanks to you."

You smiled, your hand finding his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad. Do you want to talk about what happened with your dad?"

Max hesitated, his eyes clouding over with the memory of the argument. "I don't know," he admitted. "Part of me wants to just forget about it, but I know that won't help."

"Talking might," you said gently. "But only if you're ready."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "He just… he got so angry. He said I embarrassed him, that I wasn't trying hard enough. It was like all those years of pressure and expectations just came crashing down on me again."

You felt a pang of anger on his behalf. Jos Verstappen's harshness had always been a sore point, but hearing it directly from Max made it all the more painful. "Max, you did everything you could. You gave it your all, like you always do."

"I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's never enough for him. I thought maybe if I kept winning, kept proving myself, he'd finally be proud of me. But it's like nothing I do is ever good enough."

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "Listen to me, Max. You are enough. More than enough. Not because of your wins or your titles, but because of who you are. You're strong, you're kind, and you're resilient. Your father's approval doesn't define your worth."

Max's eyes filled with tears again, and he nodded slowly. "I know you're right. It's just hard to remember that sometimes."

"That's why I'm here," you said softly. "To remind you. And to stand by you, no matter what."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender, grateful kiss. When he pulled back, he looked at you with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.

"You'll never have to find out," you promised, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

The two of you spent the day together, cocooned in the safety of your hotel room. You ordered room service, watched movies, and talked about everything and nothing. Max gradually began to relax, the weight of the previous day's events lifting as he basked in your presence.

Later that evening, as the sun began to set, Max turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "You know, I think I need to have a serious talk with my dad. I can't keep living like this, constantly trying to measure up to his impossible standards."

You nodded, proud of his resolve. "I think that's a good idea. But make sure you do it when you're ready. And remember, you have every right to set boundaries."

"I will," he said, his voice stronger now. "And knowing that I have you by my side makes me feel like I can handle anything."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man before you. "And I'll always be here, Max. No matter what."

He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as if drawing strength from your presence. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with a raw sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple.

In that moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the future didn't seem so daunting. Together, you could face anything. And as long as you had each other, you knew everything would be alright.

------------------------------

im half asleep so let me know if there are any mistakes

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 8

Part 8: Art woke up with his head in her neck and a hand on her chest, starting to think that maybe this is how he would always wake up if she were next to him. He managed to detach himself without waking Liana and took advantage of these minutes to look at her a bit.

His head ached from all the alcohol, and for a moment he wondered if everything that happened last night had really happened. But she was wearing his shirt and sleeping in his bed, so apparently, it had. This made him smile and get out of bed. He put on a pair of sweatpants and went downstairs to the kitchen. He made two cups of coffee and put a box of painkillers in his pocket. "Good morning," he heard his mother and smiled automatically. "Hey, Mom," he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "How was your evening?" she asked, and he updated her that it was okay, without giving too many explanations. While she was moving towards the living room, turning her back to him, she said, "Tell Liana she's welcome to come down for breakfast." Art stopped, feeling himself blush and realizing that she had heard them last night. Him and Liana. Liana, whom she had known since the day she was born. Liana, the daughter of her best friend. His mother had heard her moaning in her son's bed. "What..." he mumbled, not knowing what to do. "The coffee, it's for Liana, right?" His mother turned back to him, amused by the whole situation. "Oh, relax, Art, it was just a matter of time, and Liana is always welcome to eat with us. Don't chase her out the back door," she winked at him and concluded the conversation. His heart was beating so fast he didn't know what to do. She would surely tell Liana's parents, and then Liana would never let him touch her again out of embarrassment. He placed the cups on the counter and followed her into the living room. "You can't tell Sarah," he stated. He was terrified at the thought of their parents sitting one evening and just talking about his and Liana's sex life as if it were a legitimate dinner table conversation. "Art, what I do or do not tell Sarah, my best friend, the woman who also raised you when you think about it, is my business," she was still speaking with complete nonchalance. "Mom, I'm begging you. Don't tell her. Does Dad know too? Do I need to ask him as well?" he tried to understand how deep the damage control he needed to do was. "You weren't exactly quiet when you broke the vase Grandma gave us last Christmas," his mom looked at him with a sharp look. Art tried to understand what she was talking about and vaguely remembered how they had come in, and he had bumped into something, causing both him and Liana to choke with laughter. "Shit. God. I'll buy you a new vase. I promise." He smiled a toothy smile. One that was his mother's weak spot. "Mom, please. Don't tell them." He saw on her face that she was about to relent. "It's very new, and we're still trying to figure out what we're doing," Art told her and sighed. "How new?" she asked, surprised. What she and her husband heard last night (unfortunately for them) did not sound like the beginning of something. "Very. I'm pretty sure it's new from yesterday..." his hand went over his neck for a second. He was nervous. "I can't have our parents talking about this before we've talked about it. Please, Mom, just pretend you didn't hear anything." He pleaded, and the woman in front of him nodded. "Okay," she rolled her eyes, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She saw her son stand up with a smile and head toward the kitchen. "Art," she made him turn around, "don't hurt her, okay?" she said, looking at him sharply. "Of course not, it's Liana." He had no choice but to nod. He didn't think there was a scenario where he was the one hurting Liana and not the other way around. Liana woke up in an empty room, taking a second to remember that this was Art Donaldson's room. Her heart beat uncontrollably fast as she recalled all the things she did last night with Art. Annoying Art who used to wipe snot on her when they were four. Art who would change the channel every time she wanted to watch 'The Lion King' at five. Art who, if she closed her eyes, she would see woven into every significant memory she had of this life.

She got up slowly, adjusting to the slight dizziness that hit her, and walked to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the spare brush she found there yesterday and washing her face. What if he didn't want to talk about it? What if he decided there was nothing to talk about? What if it was all in her head? She heard the door to the room open and saw him come in with two cups of what she could imagine were coffee. "My hero," she blurted and snatched one of them from his hand, causing him to chuckle while she blushed from her own choice of words. Art took a sip while examining her. She was still wearing his shirt, and her hair was messy. She did everything to avoid looking at him. "Can we talk about it?" he realized he needed to take matters into his own hands because if he relied on the verbal abilities of the girl in front of him, they would talk about it at ninety when they would be in a retirement home. "Do you want to?" she asked, passing a neurotic hand over her nose. It was her tick when she was nervous. She had a few. The twitching leg and the hand on the nose betrayed her the quickest. "Li, can we be mature about this? Please?" he sighed and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. He hated that he had to beg. She took another sip of the coffee, looked at him, and nodded. "It was fun, right?" she asked hesitantly, again looking forward instead of at him. "It could be more fun if you manage to look me in the eyes for more than five seconds..." he tried to sound calm and amused, but this new situation was strange for him too. He didn't expect this. He didn't expect to look at Liana in a sexual way. He didn't expect his good luck charm from the moment he started playing tennis to be simultaneously the best blowjob he had ever had. It could confuse anyone, but him probably especially. "I can look at you for more than five seconds..." she rolled her eyes and brought her gaze back to him, not moving but blushing. This made him chuckle in frustration. "We're a bit stupid, aren't we?" he said, and she laughed too. "It wasn't a mistake, right?" she asked, feeling a bit more comfortable. "It was everything but a mistake, Li." He stated. "We can just take it slow and try to figure out what's going on? Stay us and add new things to it..." he suggested. "Art, what about Tashi?" she asked suddenly, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "What about her?" he returned the question, a little confused by the new direction of the conversation. "You talk about her all day, you definitely want to be with her," she seemed frustrated. "I don't want to be with Tashi," he felt the need to defend himself, not understanding how instead of talking about how great their night was, they were talking about Tashi Duncan. "She's also with Patrick. I'm not in love with her or anything." He spoke faster than usual, afraid that the opportunity he had now with Liana would slip through his fingers because of something hypothetical that wouldn't happen with Tashi anyway. "I didn't say you were in love with her..." she sighed, and again her hand was on her nose for a second. In her opinion, Art had given himself away. Art placed the cup he was holding on the floor and turned his whole body towards her, examining her closely. He was almost sure he would never get used to Liana wearing his clothes. He would never get used to seeing the marks he left on her neck, silently screaming that she was his. Completely his. "Li, I won't force you, but I think you want this too." He tried a new direction. Feeling he had to steer the conversation away from Tashi. Of course, he wanted Tashi; every man with eyes wanted Tashi. But he knows for sure that what happened last night with Liana would be the only thing he could think about until the next time he heard her moan his name. "You can't know that," she said in a childish voice and crossed her arms under her chest, causing him to chuckle.

"You're such a brat, God," he chuckled again, because he knew she was just being stubborn. Just by looking at her at that moment, with the flushed cheeks, he knew he had won this argument. "No, I'm not. I'm a person who knows what they want." She stood up, taking a few steps to move away from him. Liana felt she had to think deeply about this. Every warning light she had was flashing. This is Art Donaldson. You can't give your all to Art Donaldson. He will crush you. She knew. He stood up with her, every step she took backward hesitantly, he took forward confidently until they reached a dead-end; his closet. She lifted her gaze and met his blue eyes, looking at her as if she held the moon in her hands. "What do you want?" he asked in a whisper, not taking his eyes off her for a second. Almost managing to see the shiver she felt when he spoke so close to her. "I can help you understand. It's Us. It’s just you and me." He spoke near her ear, and she closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. One of his fingers gently brushed her neck, over the marks he had left, causing her to sigh. "Just say it. You're a big girl, you can say what you want." By this point, both of them were breathing heavily, and she opened her eyes, seeing his darken with a spark of something she couldn't identify. "Art..." she whispered, unable to find the words. He was so beautiful. How had she not noticed over the years how beautiful Art Donaldson was? "I'm not going to say it for you." His voice was steady, demanding. Not hesitant. "Use your words." His nose touched hers, and her chest brushed against his with every breath she took. "The moment you say what you want, you'll get it." His breaths were heavy too. It almost felt like the fate of their lives depended on this moment. "I want it. I want you." Her voice was weak; she couldn't swallow or breathe. "Good girl." He responded, and saw how her expression changed. The moment he said that, it was like a switch, she pressed her lips to his, almost angrily, upset that he had made her so desperate. Upset that he knew exactly how to lead her where he wanted. Upset that his hand was still not under her shirt, even though all she wanted right now was his touch. He completely controlled her ability to function independently right now. Just knowing she was good for him. They pulled away from each other, breathing heavily. Art's smile was genuine but also mischievous. They both knew he had won. He simply knew it was a tie, and that she could crush him with one wrong word. "So, we'll take it slow." He said, and she chuckled. "Yeah, huh? Slow seems to be our strength." She rolled her eyes and laughed too, concluding they would be fine. "I need to go home, my parents think I'm at Rebecca's..." she said while they lay in bed, not exchanging many words. His hand was around her, and her head was on his shoulder, still trying to catch their breath from the emotional turmoil of the past two days. "Your parents know you're here," he chuckled, remembering the conversation with his mom earlier. Liana looked at him and sat up quickly. Her hand scratched her nose for a moment, and her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean???" Her voice raised an octave, and her cheeks flushed red. "My parents heard us. We weren't exactly quiet." He sounded amused, but to his defense, he had at least an hour more than her to get used to the idea. "What are you talking about? Why are you laughing, Art?! This is so embarrassing!!!" Her hands were on her face, trying to hide the level of embarrassment. He gently removed them, and she looked at him with the most frustrated look she had ever given him. He couldn't believe there were still so many of Liana's facial expressions he didn't know. "Mom lied to me earlier that she wouldn’t tell Sarah, but-" he started, trying to explain how he knew. "As if they can keep anything from each other. Ugh. So embarrassing, Art." "She also said they knew this would happen," he tried to comfort her, to explain that maybe it wasn't so bad that they knew. That now they didn't have to explain themselves.

"So fucking embarrassing." She repeated. "Patrick is coming tomorrow, remember?" He suddenly asked after a few more minutes of silence. "Oh my God, Patrick. We can't tell Patrick." She mumbled, half to Art, half to herself. "What?" He looked confused by her sudden change in behavior. She seemed to freeze next to him. He watched her get out of bed and start pacing back and forth. "We can't tell him, Art. Promise me." She stopped and looked at him. "Why?" He felt his stomach turning. Why didn't she want Patrick to know? Patrick, whom Art knew was in love with her. Patrick, who talked to her for hours on the phone. Patrick, whom Art introduced to her. "Because everything is already complicated in his life, and I don't want to add something else that will make him feel weird," she tried to explain herself but couldn't. Liana's heart was racing. The thought of Patrick knowing she and Art were trying things and exploring each other's bodies made her uncomfortable. "Why would knowing that you and I are together make him feel weird?" His heart was pounding. He understood; She knew. She would never admit it, but deep down, Liana knew Patrick was in love with her. "Because everything is changing for him, and he already feels like we're all leaving him. Art. Please. Let's figure out where this is going first and only then tell him. Promise me." She landed on the floor by the bed. "Please, Art, he and I are already in a weird place right now." She added, lowering her head. "Why are you in a weird place?" He knew something was wrong in their relationship. He just didn't want to ask either of them. To be honest, the fact that Liana and Patrick barely talked in the past month didn't bother Art at all. When Patrick would casually ask him on the phone how Liana was (as if he were asking about the weather), Art would say everything was fine with her and that he saw her a lot, even though he barely saw her at all, and that would be the end of the conversation about Liana. "Because I was stressed about my exams and mad about something he said to me. It doesn't matter, I'll apologize when he comes," she shrugged and didn't look at him anymore. "Did you choose a major?" He asked suddenly, and she leaned back on the floor and sighed. "Yes. We'll see where it goes when the grades come… I applied to both Architecture and Business." She shrugged. "Damn, no wonder you were so stressed. Why did you do that???" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would anyone apply to both? "Long story, and I don't feel like dealing with it right now." She sighed. How was she supposed to tell him now that if she got into Architecture like she wanted, she would probably leave Stanford for a while?

During Christmas dinner, with the small Hanukkah menorah in the window, Patrick, Liana, and Art snuck outside and sat on the grass, passing around a bottle of champagne they managed to sneak with them. "Finally, some peace," Liana said and giggled. Art's hand automatically found its way to her leg, making gentle movements. Patrick didn't miss it. He remembered the conversation with Tashi. Conversation. Whatever it was with Tashi. If he could, Art would bend her over the table. Show her who she belonged to. Those words were burned into his mind. Could it be they were really fucking? No way. Liana would tell him. Art would tell him. "So, what's new with you guys? Tell me about life at Stanford. Are you already the greatest tennis player in America?" He asked. "She doesn't come to my practices, so I can't be the greatest in America," Art joked, and Liana rolled her eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom. Don't encourage him too much," she started to walk away. "You're not going to tell me?" Patrick asked, and Art just looked at him, raising an eyebrow while half-smiling. "I'm not stupid, Art, what's going on?" His heart was beating faster than expected. "You know…" Art shrugged, and his smile widened. But it wasn't an innocent or a sincere smile. It was his victory smile. A territorial smile. One that couldn't resist saying the last word. Patrick was angry. He tried to breathe, but he felt his stomach clenching. How, while he was trying to be the person Liana needed, did Art get Liana? Art, who wasn't even trying. Art, who for most of his life didn't know what he had right under his nose. "What will you do when she leaves?" He heard himself say, and Art looked at him in confusion. "Come on, Art, you know she'll pass that test and get accepted, right?" He realized with every word he spoke that Art had no idea. He didn't know Liana was planning a year outside of America. "What are you talking about?" Art asked with visible panic in his voice. Patrick tried, but he couldn't stop his smile. Art thought he had won. Art was wrong.

Hey, it's a long chapter, and I'd like to hear your thoughts as always. I hope you enjoy it even tho I understand that the pace is slow. I just hate rushing things for the sake of something interesting happening. You know what I mean?  Next part we'll have more of Patrick, don't worry. pls pls pls keep sending me your opinions in the comments and in the ask box. It makes my day. As usual, if you want to be on the tag list, just ask 💜

taglist: @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @izzywags478

[atzaurora]

Hello! I wanted to give an idea or request if that's okay with you. Feel free to ignore it tho !

An ot8 of ateez where reader gets injured during a performance or a small accident. Up to you. But that's it thank you

부상-𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒚

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ᥲ 𝗍ᥕіs𝗍 іᥒ 𝗍һᥱ s⍴᥆𝗍ᥣіgһ𝗍

𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: ot8

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!idol!reader x idol!ateez

𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆: imagine (angst, fluff)

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: group members, good friends

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: sprained ankle, recovering from injury

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: y/n sprains her ankle during a concert and the members make sure to take care of her after

𝒘/𝒄: not counted

𝒂/𝒏: I hope this is what you had in mind! if you want, leave feedback or requests anytime ^^

here's my 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕!

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The lights were blinding, the fans' cheers thunderous, as you and Ateez gave your all on stage. performing as an idol was a dream come true, and being part of such an energetic and talented group made every moment special. however, tonight, something went wrong.

in the middle of a particularly intense dance break, you felt your ankle twist awkwardly. a sharp pain shot up your leg, but you managed to finish the song before collapsing backstage, clutching your ankle. the cheers of the crowd faded into the background as your world narrowed to the throbbing pain.

"y/n!" San's voice was the first you heard as the members rushed to your side. his face was a mix of concern and panic. "are you okay?"

you shook your head, wincing. "I think I sprained my ankle."

Hongjoong immediately took charge, directing the staff to fetch an ice pack and calling for the on-site medical team. "we need to get this checked out as soon as possible."

the members eventually had to head outside onto the stage again and so the rest of the concert went on without you, but your thoughts were focused on the pain and worry about your injury. the medical team arrived quickly, confirming it was indeed a sprained ankle and suggesting you go to the hospital for a more thorough examination.

San and Wooyoung helped you onto a chair, carefully propping your injured leg up with pillows and placing an ice pack on your ankle. you tried to keep a brave face, but the pain and disappointment were overwhelming.

"hey, don't worry," Seonghwa said softly, kneeling beside you. "we'll take care of you. the fans will understand."

you nodded, grateful for their support but still feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to finish the performance. "I know. I just hate feeling like I'm letting everyone down."

Jongho squeezed your hand reassuringly. "you're not letting anyone down, y/n. injuries happen. what matters is that you take care of yourself and that we take care of you too."

---

the concert ended, and the members hurried backstage to check on you. they were all sweaty and tired, but their concern for you was palpable.

"how's the ankle?" Yunho asked, crouching down to get a better look.

"it hurts," you admitted, trying not to wince as the ice pack was removed for a moment. "but the medical team said it's just a sprain."

Mingi, also your current roommate for the hotel room, looked particularly worried. "we should get you to a doctor, just to be sure. we'll take care of everything."

you nodded, knowing he was right. with the help of the members, you were carefully escorted out of the venue and into a van. the ride to the hospital was quiet, filled with the tension of worry and exhaustion.

at the hospital, the doctor confirmed the initial diagnosis: a sprained ankle that would need rest, ice, compression, and elevation. you were given a brace and crutches to help you get around.

"thank you," you said to the doctor as you left the examination room.

San wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the van. "let's get you back to the hotel so you can rest."

---

the drive back to the hotel was more relaxed, the members joking and chatting to keep your spirits up. despite the pain, you felt more eased now at their calming presence.

once you arrived at the hotel, they helped you up to your shared suite with Mingi. he insisted on carrying you, despite your protests.

"Mingi, I'm not that helpless," you laughed, but he shook his head.

"humor," he said, a playful grin on his face. "I don't want you putting any weight on that ankle."

inside the suite, Mingi carefully set you down on the couch, propping your leg up with pillows and handing you the remote. "there. now you just relax, okay?"

"thanks, Mingi," you said, touched by his care. "you guys are the best."

Hongjoong entered the room with a bag of takeout. "we figured you might be hungry, so we got your favorite."

"you're spoiling me," you teased, but your heart swelled with affection.

"only because you deserve it," Yeosang said, sitting beside you. "just focus on getting better."

the evening passed in a haze of laughter and camaraderie. the members took turns sitting with you, chatting about everything and nothing, keeping your spirits high.

San brought over a deck of cards. "how about a game to pass the time?"

you nodded eagerly, and soon, the room was filled with the sound of shuffling cards and friendly banter. the pain in your ankle seemed to fade a bit with each laugh and smile shared.

as the night grew late, Mingi insisted on helping you to bed. "you need to rest," he said firmly, guiding you to your bed.

"thanks, Mingi," you said softly, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

he smiled, tucking you in gently. "get some sleep. we'll all be here in the morning."

you drifted off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that you had such wonderful friends by your side. the next few days were gonna be challenging, but with a little help from your friends, that ankle would be good again in no time.

---

the following morning, you woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting through the suite. you carefully got out of bed, using the crutches to make your way to the living room. there, you found the members bustling around, setting the table with an impressive spread.

"good morning, y/n," Hongjoong greeted you with a smile. "how are you feeling?"

"a little better, thanks," you replied, taking a seat. "you guys didn't have to do all this."

"we wanted to," Wooyoung said, placing a plate of pancakes in front of you. "you need to eat well to recover."

you couldn't help but smile at their thoughtfulness. "you guys are amazing."

as you ate breakfast, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Yunho and Jongho recounted funny moments from their trainee days, making everyone laugh. it was exactly what you needed to forget the pain at least a little.

after breakfast, Mingi helped you back to the couch, setting you up with everything you might need within reach. "if you need anything, just ask," he said, smiling down at you

"thanks, Mingi," you said, touched by his attentiveness.

the rest of the day passed in a comfortable routine. the members took turns keeping you company again, playing games, watching movies, and just chatting. their presence was a constant source of comfort, making the pain in your ankle more bearable.

---

by the third day, you were starting to feel a bit more mobile, though you still needed the crutches and the occasional assistance from the members. the hotel suite had become a cozy haven, filled with laughter and warmth.

one evening, as you all gathered in the living room, Hongjoong brought up a serious topic. "Y/n, we've been talking, and we think you should take some time off to fully recover. we can handle things in the meantime."

you shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't want to let anyone down. I can still perform, just not the intense dance breaks."

San placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "your health comes first. we can adjust the performances and make sure you're not straining your ankle."

Yeosang nodded in agreement. "we'll help you, no matter what."

their words touched you deeply. "thank you, guys. I appreciate it more than you know."

---

the next few days were filled with preparations for your adjusted performances. the members worked hard to make sure everything ran smoothly, allowing you to focus on your recovery.

on the day of your next concert, you were both nervous and excited. the support from your fans and the members gave you the strength to push through.

as you performed on stage, you were careful with your movements, avoiding any sudden twists or turns. the fans cheered louder than ever, their love and support palpable.

backstage, the members were constantly checking on you, making sure you were okay. their concern and care made you feel truly cherished.

after the concert, you returned to the hotel, exhausted but happy. the members gathered in your suite, celebrating the successful performance.

"you did amazing, y/n," Jongho said, raising a glass of soda in a toast. "to our incredible teammate!"

you smiled, feeling a surge of pride and gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you guys. thank you for everything."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[billwidoll]

Why do you only call me when you're high?

It was a party night at Rafe's house, it was always a party at Rafe's house. He always had fun and drank to his heart's content, but when he woke up he was sorry for always hesitating with you. But he always did the same thing So you always forgave him when necessary

Rafe always loved you, that was a fact. But he had a problem with alcohol and drugs, so that always hampered your relationship. But this time you promised not to forgive any other The nonsense that Rafe did, it was time for him to be sure that he would lose you somehow.

"Rafe! Your girlfriend is here, at the party" Topper speaks loudly in Rafe's ear, because of the sound

"what? My baby is here! Where is she?" Rafe talks completely stoned

"no Rafe! You can't show up like that...she'll want to break up with you" Topper advises his friend, but Rafe wouldn't listen

"she loves me, okay? She would never abandon me" Rafe says in an almost serious tone after he really thought you would always give in to his love

Even though he knew about his existence at the party, Rafe continued drinking and smoking a lot and talking to girls who were interested in him. What Rafe was really waiting for was to see you even if that It was hard to believe

You were confused looking for your boyfriend until you saw him talking to a generic blonde

"Oh my God! Rafe? My boyfriend? Who I haven't seen in two days?" You speak sarcastically and disrupt Rafe and the blonde's conversation

"My beautiful princess, I was talking about you" Rafe says completely drunk and kissing you with hot drink breath

"Rafe! Don't you dare touch me! Where were you these last two days? Why didn't you answer the messages?"

You speak, drawing the attention of several people and Rafe ends up grabbing your arm, not so Strong and taking you to a more private place

"I already told you not to touch me!!" You say getting rid of him when you finally arrived at a calmer place

"I think you better not start your tantrum" Rafe says rolling his eyes at you

"tantrum? Rafe...I just want to ask you something" you say in an almost whisper and tired of putting up with all of this

"you can talk, but if you want to give your lecture..." Rafe was talking but you interrupt him

"you love me?" You ask looking deeply into Rafe's eyes.

"but what question is that? And of course I love you!" Rafe says smiling at the end and hugging you

"So if you love me, give up the drugs, the drinks and the parties and let's live a happy life!"

You say, still hugging him, but with every word you said, Rafe let go of you, it seemed like he didn't like your proposal.

"what? You want me to change my ways because of you? I'm sorry if I'm not prince charming"

Rafe speaks out and you raise your eyebrows, not believing what you were hearing.

"I don't want you to be a prince charming! I want you to be a boyfriend!" You speak shouting with tears in your eyes

"I'm sorry, princess! But that's how I am! And I'm not going to change my ways because of you"

Rafe says, shouting in your face, making you cry even more

"so what about this? Do you really want me to abandon you?" You say drying your tears

"we both know that won't happen" Rafe says in disbelief that you could abandon him

"okay...let's see" you say decide to never forgive Rafe again or at least get back with him, you would start a new life without him

Seven years later:

After several years later, Rafe Cameron's life became hell. He drank day and night, worked with a sullen face and had no friends left, they were all married and had children already Rafe He only had a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Rafe wanted to die, he wanted it so bad, but he needed to at least apologize to you seven years later

It was difficult, but Rafe managed to find the house where you lived and he was so happy but so sad and emotional at the same time, he needed to tell you so many things, he needed to see how you were, He needed to apologize to you

And so it was, Rafe found the beach house where you lived temporarily, after it was summer and it was also in Rafe's city so he had the opportunity

When Rafe got there, he saw that the house was flowery and very cheerful, whereas his house was gray and dark. Rafe was scared, he wanted so badly to let go of that fear But it was difficult. But even so, he would knock on your door and declare himself

Rafe approached his door and rang the doorbell, his hands shaking.

It took about 1 minute for you to open the door and when it opened. Rafe found himself with a child in his arms and you were hissing in confusion.

"I'm sorry...but can I help you?" You ask in the voice of an angel, when Rafe heard that voice he heard his heart beat again

"I guess...I only called you when I was high, didn't I?" Rafe says this humorless joke, but it made you remember perfectly who it was in front of you

"oh my god Rafe!" You say, hugging him even though you have the baby on your lap "come in, please" you say, making room at the door for him to enter

When Rafe walked in, he realized that the beach house was so beautiful and family-friendly, it would make him so happy

"It's beautiful here..." Rafe says, totally mesmerized by the place

"and...what do you think an architect's house would be like?" You say putting the baby in the crib and make Rafe surprised by your profession

"Did you become an architect?" Rafe asks, completely shocked by the information.

"yes! I learned about it at college and I'm still working in this field today" you say, sitting in a chair and giving Rafe a friendly smile

"and who is that cute little thing?" Rafe says referring to the drink you were holding

"that's my son Jonathan, he just turned 2" you say smiling, proud to remember that you had an adorable son

That was a knife in the gut for Rafe, he knew things would change, but it hurt. He just wanted to go back in time and fix everything

"he's beautiful" Rafe says this in almost a whisper, he was trying not to break down there

"But what about you Rafe? How's the biggest playboy on the Outer Banks doing?" You ask with a smile and a light chuckle from Rafe.

"I'm fine...I'm fine...I couldn't learn more about college, but I ended up becoming president of my father's company"

Rafe speaks without being proud of himself, he spoke quietly and with his head down. And you realized that so you decided to talk about someone else's life

"and Topper? I never saw him again" you say trying to change the tone of the conversation

"he... is in Canada, he got married and had twins..." Rafe speaks in a sad tone disguised as joy

"Do you still have contact with him?" You ask innocently and it hurts Rafe so much

"no...he abandoned me...because of drinking" Rafe says with tears in his eyes seeing that situation you approach him and hug him

"Rafe, what's going on?" You say still hugging him

"I just wish I could do everything differently! I just wish I would have listened to you and Topper!"

Rafe explodes with emotion and cries even more in your arms.

"Hey, calm down, okay?" You say trying to calm down, but it was difficult

"you don't understand...I'm a failure in my life and a failure!" Rafe finally speaks, looking into your eyes

"no! Rafe! Look at me, you're rich, beautiful, you have a splendid family"

You say, taking his face and gently running your hand over it.

"but I'm not happy!" Rafe shouts and you feel so bad for him in that moment, maybe... maybe you shouldn't have given up on him seven years ago

"And what do you want me to do Rafe?! If you're like this, it's not my fault" you shout crying back

"No! It's not your fault! That's my fault! I knew how to love..." Rafe shouts back and the only thing you think at that moment is kiss him, like you kissed him before

And that's what you did, you kissed him intensely, The kiss had fear, disgust, anger, surprise, happiness and sadness. But in the end there was peace...the connection between you and Rafe brought each other peace

"I love you, Rafe...But our story ended at that party"

[sabh0]

Is skk abusive? Other than the name calling and banter that I just don't take seriously, I've seen people say that Dazai is abusive since he planned for Chuuya to be tortured in stormbringer and didn't help because it would be boring, despite having the ability to do so. There's also the whole manipulating the sheep thing.

I've also seen people say that Chuuya is abusive because of how violent he is, how he punched Dazai to wake him up in Dead Apple and called him inhuman(? Ngl, I don't remember that part) and because Chuuya shot him more times than necessary in Meursault.

Personally, I struggle to see them as abusive r toxic, if only because of how much they trust and understand each other, and how they rile each other up for fun without letting it actually impact their relationship, but I may just be biased? What do you think?

Ok im just gonna say - dont take this post ad some 100% real wisdom or anything. It's just my personal opinion and it's definitely biased as well because of how much these two mean to me but yeah

I wouldn't call them abusive in relationship terms because all that banter and most of their fights are just, as u said it, unserious.

They're both fucked up a bit tho, so yeah there's definitely some toxic behaviours anyway.

Dazai manipulating Chuuya to join the sheep always made me real sad, but if you think about it more - Dazai knew The Sheep aren't any better for Chuuya. Plus if not like this, Mori would get Chuuya to join PM anyway in one way or another, since it was a plan from the beginning.

Dazai planned the whole 'helping Verlaine' thing to buy time so the PM forces could get ready to protect Mori and Chuuya later. That's mafia they're in - lives are not equal. Also Dazai wouldn't put Chuuya in danger he knew the other wouldn't be able to deal with. Either way, his whole yapping about wanting to see Chuuya being tortured is yet again that stupidly weird banter of theirs. After all, he's trying to find him and literally stop him from doing something he would regret. (Sab is trying to make some points but that still doesn't make whatever Dazai did something good. Just sayin. I just don't feel it's a black or white situation.)

I said it some time ago but lord, Chuuya is not abusive. Look, he knows when it's alright to fight Dazai and when he should stop himself not to hurt him. Even if they fight, he never does it seriously. Basement scene? He could've very well just punched Dazai without warning there. But instead he literally invited him to fight - and Dazai very much agreed to that sht with a smile on his lips. They're just very much not okay in the head on both sides. Later when Chuuya actually got angry, he himself threw his knife to the ground, which only shows he doesn't really have any intent of hurting Dazai seriously (In the manga. In the anime they changed it for whatever reason and he did strike him with the knife. But anime skk is just. Anime skk.).

That Dead Apple argument is so funny bc??? Chuuya was literally UNDER CORRUPTION AT THE TIME??? Corruption literally makes him lose control. He could kill a person with one touch. Instead??? Corruption Chuuya in dead apple somehow managed to hold himself back just enough not to actually hurt Dazai. Also, Dazai f knew he's gonna punch him anyway. I mean, bro kinda deserved it atp tbh /j

Cant really tell much about the shooting thing in Meursault - i stil have no f idea if these were even real, considering the fact Dazai is moving normally and there's no wounds/holes/blood visible on him or his clothes. These were probably just a play like the whole headshot thing?? (Tho dazai's scream and expression after that arm shot say otherwise),, really don't know, call it a better impression on Fyodor or Chuuya actually paying Dazai back for the other times

Ok so ,looks at all that sht i just wrote and tried to still excuse it somehow, I wouldn't call them abusive anyway just bc I've seen actual abusive relationships in real life and that's just uhh different in a way i cant really put my finger on,, there's some toxicity simply from the fact they're emotionally constipated and won't talk things thru like they should but,,, welp. Tbh i see most of their usual fighting as something unserious that both of em r okay with. Usually when they actually get into an argument about something it's because one actually got hurt by the other's words (for example that scene with Chuuya punching Dazai after he made jokes about Colonel's death). And they apologize without really apologizing, too (Dazai going to find Shibusawa and trying to take revenge on Colonel's death and later Chuuya going to rescue Dazai and saying to 'wait for him').

Unpopular opinion but i honestly feel that in the future they could very well form a normal, healthy relationship. They just really need to talk. Bickering and calling each other names for fun isn't imo really a form of abuse, when both sides know it's not meaning to hurt the other fr (if it was, then me and most of my friends would be fr abusing each other unfortunately) (and I don't feel abused even if we call each other names and say we hate each other, while watching cat reels together at the same time) (consider this some sibling-like stuff)

If nothing of whatever i just said makes sense, don't eat me please, it's just really hard for me to explain what i really think without being able to just talk for 5h straight while considering every ppint of view

[mtchee]

Inconspicuous Observations - [Albedo Kreideprinz] GN

blurb:

You thought your little crush on Albedo was a secret only you would know. However, you suspect that might not be the case when the very subject of your affections seems to know more than he lets on...

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, reject shop paimon, albedo is kind of a little shit??, sucrose bless her heart, i made [name] competent are u proud, 16+ suggestiveness, no smut but relatively implied

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

[2.4k]

"Huh," You hum to yourself, "he's actually here for once..."

You eye down a particular blond alchemist as he chats to Timaeus over the alchemy crafting table.

You blink, physically spinning around a couple times, "Where's Sucrose?"

"Think she might still be up in Dragonspine?" Your sunset coloured companion, Kiko, provides some food for thought.

"Mm, no. I don't think so," You avert your eyes from Albedo and continue your way towards Good Hunter with a create of fresh produce, "Sucrose can't handle much cold, and she gets too scared if she's by herself."

"Eh? But she's always couped up in her lab anyway..."

"Yeah, but Dragonspine's a whole other kind of isolation."

"I guess so." Kiko hums, floating beside you idly.

The two of you approach Sara at the counter, where the woman gives you a bright smile.

"Ah! Yes, thanks so much! Just leave those by the kitchenette, I'll handle them from here," Sara bows her head thankfully before handing you a bag of rewards, "what would we do without you?"

"You'd manage perfectly fine, I'm sure," You grin sheepishly, "thanks, Sara! I'll take you up on that lunch offer tomorrow if that's okay with you..?"

"Sure thing," In compensation for one of her most recent requests, the owner of Good Hunter promised a hearty meal without cost, "see you tomorrow!"

"Bye bye!" Kiko waves dutifully, you giving out one last smile before heading off.

As they you the plaza, your eyes draw over the chief alchemist, drinking in his usually rare appearance in Mondstadt.

"Psst," Kiko mutters loudly, "you're staring again..."

"Shit--" You snap your gaze away and book it from the plaza, ignorant of the way Timaeus and Albedo's attention darts to you momentarily—the latter with a light chuckle.

"—I was not."

"Don't start." Kiko deadpans, "I don't mean to make this worse for you—"

"Then don't—"

"—But I'm pretty sure he was staring back."

"Shut." You glare at your floaty friend, "you are gonna get me caught out."

You huff, crossing your arms as you head towards the Favonious library.

"And I can't have that."

"C-Caught..?"

"Oh!" You reel back, almost bumping into your mint haired friend.

Sucrose flinches back slightly, having expected an impact, but simply gives a small smile as she fixes her glasses back in place.

"Sucrose, hey!"

"Hi," She waves meekly, a couple of books clutched to her chest, "hav-have you seen Mister Albedo anywhere...? I-I'm suppose to be watching my experiment at home but he needed these books at noon..."

"Mm, sure. I saw him in the plaza before, with Timaeus. Do you need any help? How come you guys aren't in Dragonspine?"

"Well, we've recently had a breakthrough in one of our elemental analyses and had to report it back to Acting Grand Master Jean," Sucrose shuffles her feet, not necessarily in discomfort, but mainly out of habit, "s-so we decided to break in Mondstadt for a while. Um... I, uh, I heard that Mister Albedo has found some other source of interest recently! And... And he's been insistent on pursuing it for a while now..."

"Really?" You tilt your head curiously, "huh, interesting... well, good for him! Fill me in on the details of your experiment later, yeah? I won't hold you up anymore."

You don't have the biggest interest in alchemy, though understanding certain aspects of the science came naturally to you--plus, it's something Sucrose is passionate about.

You didn't mind sitting through one of her long tangents, seeing as it made her happy she has a friend willing to listen.

"Oh, alright. S-Sure! Thanks, [name]!" Sucrose flushes, smiling at you before you off, "may the wind lead..!"

"Mister Albedo!" You blurt out in surprise once you reach your home in Springvale.

It's been a few days since you and your mushroom fairy companion ran into Sucrose and learnt about their little break--but it was odd to see the chief alchemist so far outside of Mondstadt's walls, unless he was in Dragonspine.

Said male turns around with a pleasant hum of surprise, though his expression didn't portray such.

As a matter of fact, he looked as though he had been expecting you.

"Oh, [name]," He smiles gently, "pleasure to see you again. I was just looking for you, acutally."

Ah, that makes sense then.

"Really now?" You return his greeting with a slightly stressed smile, reaching up to rub the back of your neck.

Albedo hums affirmatively, "Indeed."

There's a hint of smugness hidden within his expression, shown through the subtle inward bend of his brows and his low smile, "I missed you at the plaza the other day, after I concluded my conversation with Timaeus, if you recall?"

"Oh, right..." You swallow uncomfortably at having been caught out, "y-yeah. Sorry, I didn't want to bug you."

"It would be no trouble at all, really," Albedo reassures, "I've recently concluded some reports and have returned to Mondstadt for a while to recouporate. Like I said, I was looking for you anyhow."

"Ah, I heard about that from Sucrose," You brighten before shrinking back in on yourself, "is... there something I can do for you?"

"Mm," Albedo nods, clasping his hands in front of him as he takes a step closer.

"I was wanting to invite you to join me for an unforseen amount of time within the next few days. Nothing major, don't worry. There's just... something I've been meaning to look into, and the company would be muchly appreciated."

Maintaining eye contact with the jittery individual in front of him, he makes sure to keep your focus on his face while he reaches out to grasp one of your hands between his.

He caresses your knuckles gently, a cheeky glint appearing in his eyes at his accomplishment.

"Me? Oh, uh... sure!" You beam, feeling your neck grow warm.

You remain oblivious to his proximity and his gentle hold on your hand for the time being.

"Is there anything you'd need me to... do..?" You swallow nervously, eyes widening a fraction at the feeling of his fingers tracing the line of your wrist.

You feel your mouth go dry, but play it off with another stressed smile.

Albedo gives you an uncharictaristically sweet, closed eyed grin.

"Nothing at all, dearest. You being there will be more than enough."

--Aaaand your heart drops to your stomach. He knows.

He knows something.

Your eyes flutter as a wave of panic rushes through you, though you force yourself to keep still. Your body tenses ever so slightly, and your surging thoughts leave your ears deaf to the light chuckle from Albedo's lips.

As he opens his eyes and gives you another, though much softer, smile, you can't help but feel as if he can peer into your mind; making you feel tingly and vulnerable for no more than a split second before you console yourself with rationality.

And so that's what you do for the next three days.

Frantically compose yourself from the panic Albedo induces with his unusually long stares, flustering words, and oddly sweet actions.

In his job as an alchemist, you understand that most of Albedo's habits and tidbit traits have stemmed from his work—hence his pensive stare and blunt tone.

But (from what you can recall) the past three days have been extremely unwarranted.

On the first day, after waving bye to Kiko who promised to look after the house, Albedo took you to the Stormbearer Mountains to sample some valberries.

You were happy to oblige, weaving a basket with your recently aquired dendro vision before skipping back and forth between valberry bushes to collect the fruit.

Albedo didn't contribute to much, which was fine--instead, he often stood by and watched you. At one point he stopped you to ask if you could grow a valberry plant of your own so he could sample the potential difference between a natural borne fruit, and one born through a vision.

You were hesitant at first, unsure if you had the capability to create such produce so quickly due to your inexperience.

However, after some encouragement from Albedo, you managed to do so—jumping up and celebrating happily whilst the blond smiled fondly.

On the second day, you went to explore the windwheel asters by the border of Stormterror's lair.

You were a bit tense the entire time because of the unknown territory.

Albedo on the other hand, was rather confident; he offered you an arm and, with the promise to protect you, led you just below the cliffs of the windy ruins.

You collected a few of the orange flowers, and the chief alchemist was rather affectionate with his actions. Aware of his friend's unease, he often stuck close to you, even resting an arm around your waist and holding your hand as he led you around.

The third day really set it off for you.

The time, you ventured to the point of Starsnatch Cliff to collect cecelias. Albedo hadn't disclosed the purpose for the collection of this particular flora, but you didn't really mind anyway.

Rather than exploring during the day, as you had done prior, you went during late noon which later transformed into the darkened evening.

Starsnatch cliff was rather peaceful; the night warm and accompanied by a lovely breeze. You had been humming to yourself quietly whilst collection cecelias, Albedo watching dutifully on standby.

You didn't make as much conversation this time—but when you did it constantly ended with you in a silently panicking mess.

"Mister Albedo, are you sure you want to do this so late? It's already quite dark..."

"Not to worry, [name]. You are the only light I need."

"Oh wow, the stars are so pretty tonight."

"Mm, I suppose they are indeed. Although, they certainly dull in comparison to the glisten in your eyes."

"Uhm... Mister Albedo? I've gathered these ones so far..."

"Oh? A bouquet? For Me?"

"W-Wha—? I—What are you on about? You asked me to collect these..!"

Which leads you to now.

Couped up in Albedo's study by the Favonious headquarters, with you pointing an accusing finger at the bemused alchemist.

Your resolve wavers, and as your eyes flutter, you're quick to drop your defensive stance. You'd met with Albedo in his office after he'd called for you the following day, the man having recently just disclosed the purpose behind your outings.

You take in a sharp breath before exhaling.

"...What do you mean you've been... examining me..?"

Albedo tilts his head with wide doe eyes as though the answer is obvious. He gives a small smile.

"It's as I have stated, I've been observing you. I've taken meticulous notes on your usual behavoural patterns and quirks—unwritten, I should mention," He says like that clears things up, "I've wanted to keep this information to myself."

He continues to watch you and your reaction to his words. His eyes grow half-lidded at the sight of your jaw locking in place--not from anger, but out of embarrassment.

He grins softly at the sight of you raising your shoulders defensively, attempting to make yourself smaller in hopes of shrinking away.

"Okay, well," You dart your eyes off to the side, "why?"

The blond's grin is no longer as soft, though is by no means malicious, "I believe you already know why."

Your stomach drops, and you feel humiliation wash over you.

Just your fucking luck.

He's observant.

Incredibly so--his golden oval eyes are often the cause of your nerves, his hard stare making you feel as though he can see right through you.

Albedo's intelligence is undoubtably terrifying.

While it's evidently helpful in terms of evolution and alchemy, it does no good in keeping your secrets, well, secret.

You have a hard time keeping your mouth shut as it is, and Albedo's piercing stare only makes it harder.

As if sensing your panic, the chief alchemist closes his eyes momentarily with a gentle hum before standing up from behind his desk.

He moves around it, making his way in front of the—mildly petrified—individual.

He opens his eyes again, looking at you with a knowing gaze that makes your knees weak. You open your mouth to speak, bundling up your courage before pathetically tripping on your tongue when the blond simply quirks up a brow in question.

Albedo huffs out a quiet laugh. He leans forwards slowly, stopping only inches from your face.

He hums at your panicked expression--the need to both run but the dying will to stay tears you up inside.

He smiles softly, "...May I?"

You blink.

And then nod.

Albedo tilts his head teasingly at your lack of words, and he reiterates himself, "Is this okay?"

He leans closer once more.

Your eyes flutter in disbelief before you swallow and reply.

"Archons, yes."

He kisses you with a gentle hum, savouring the feeling of your lips against his.

You, testing the waters, hesitantly attempt to deepen the kiss. A relieved sigh escapes your nose when Albedo doesn't fuss and simply follows your lead.

You flinch at the feeling of his hands coming to grip your waist, squeaking when he squeezes you affectionately. You wrap your own arms around his shoulders, hands perched behind his neck.

With your tongue swiping against his lips, you become pleasantly surprised when he opens his mouth to invite you in, only to suckle on your tongue with a quiet moan. You feel yourself flush in embarrassment, and the urge to hide away returns as you try to slink away.

Albedo doesn't let you get very far.

He parts the kiss with slightly swollen lips, taking a moment to breath before diving back in for more, pressing you against the door for leverage.

One of your legs subconsciously rise in an attempt to curl in on yourself—and so he grabs it, wrapping it around his hip and locking you in place.

Your breath hitches in your throat, forcing out a high pitched groan. Your given little to no time to dwell on the embarassing noise before the man attacks your neck in a series of kisses and licks.

As his hands trail all over your body, he begins to feel you tremble and arch for his touch.

With your hands reaching into his hair, he moves his mouth further down your body, soaking in every whimper and moan and cry that escapes it.

He bites back a knowing smile, a red blush coating the apple of his pale cheeks.

It seems he had kept you both waiting for a little too long for this.

[imagine-darksiders]

Hello! Hopefully caught you in a restful time. I just wanted to let you know that your writing is amazing! I neither knew what darksiders was nor cared until I stumbled onto your blog. I never played the games but the way you write the personalities of each person makes them feel alive! Like I'm talking to the people myself!

The way you write trauma is realistic and it pops up at random but amazingly along the flow that it feels both out of place and not! Reminding the reader that yes, this person is brave but they're still hurt and in no way in the optimum of sanity. Even though they're holding themselves together the way a realistic person does!

I got hooked! I never knew these characters and yet you made it so that I'll feel like I knew them all my life! I'm honestly itching to buy the game yet I'm scared that the creator of the game won't be able to reach your amazing characterizations.

Is the game truly that good? I'm a little scared to buy it then find that the game devolopers rushed it. If so, which game should I start with? Does it require a strong pc? X-box? I'm still unsure of using technology.

In all honesty, I'm trying to stop myself from writing a fanfic based on your fanfic. Though, it wouldn't be the same. I still have assignments to finish and I haven't been writing stories that much. Do you have any advice for new writer? Even ones about writing-work-life balance? Or, how to bring a character to life?

I'm mostly fantasising about the storyline in my head, and drawing doodles of it on whichever paper is closest to me.

Which brings me to your fantastic art! Your anatomy is amazing! The way your draw facial expressions makes it feel like they're talking around me in real life! The body types have a wide range that I don't see often and oh so thankfull to see!

From darksiders Death looking like death ran over him to darksiders Fury and the female maker twin looking like what one would expect a fighter and weapon maker would look like! Even the reader character looks amazing!

Would it be okay if I ended up following your timeline? I still don't know much about the game and most of the information I'm diffusing into my brain is from your writing.

I hope you well. With care, Illya💜.

Ah jeez, ‘are the games truly that good?’

I’m biased, so I’m going to say hell yes they’re good. They’re all so different too. I got the first game when it came out in 2010 and fell in love with the style and characters, so going into 2 I already had that love for the franchise. My advice is always to start with the first game. You get an introduction to the world, the story and the characters and it just feels more meaningful when you play the sequels. I had it on the Xbox 360, but it runs perfectly okay on any system. I don’t know if it runs on Macs though.

Alternatively, you could watch the cutscenes, but I personally never get as attached to the story if I’m not playing the game myself.

I’d be so unequivocally excited if people wrote fics based on my stuff. So long as it wasn’t like word for word, you know.

Advice for new writers? Obviously focus on your studies, they’re far more important. Which is rich coming from me, I’d write during lectures all the time. But I still managed a 1st so lol. Otherwise: Get a notebook and a pen, I write so much faster when I’m not doing it at a computer. Also, don’t get hung up about making the characters too oc, you’ll forever be fretting over that, just write them as naturally as you can and love doing it. Most of my writing I do in the evening when nothing is expected of me and I can get stuck in without getting distracted.

Use simple language in your first draft. Repeat words, don’t worry about saying the same thing for the first draft, so long as you get the chapter written out, you can fuss out the finer details later. I’m guilty of getting hung up on vocabulary.

Dude. I need to see those doodles.

You can follow my timeline, no worries. Darksiders isn’t mine, all I’ll say is I’d prefer if people didn’t try to write ahead of where CHWH is currently and claim that’s how the story should/does continue.

I’m so pleased you’re enjoying my writing and art, I’ve noticed your username popping up in my notifications a lot, and it gets me all excited like ❤️ 🌟🌈🥰✨💫🫠

[mika-mp3]

The treasure is all mine!

-Prologe- Genshin Impact x Creator!Reader

warnings: first post ever! almost swear word, the most classic start to a SAGAU fic ever (Im sorry I dont know hot to start else), no y/n used, gender neutral ,english isn't my first language so propably spelling errors, I don't know how Aranaras talk. (I professionally ignored that quest.), characters might turn yandere in the future

summary: After playing TCG your screen becomes strangely white. It starts glowing brighter and brighter and the light seems to suck you in? That can't go wrong... right? Suddenly you find yourself in a forest, not remembering anything but meeting a little creature that might be able to help you out

characters: you, your mom (no this is not a joke), aranara!oc: Aramasu

word count: 1.359

https://pin.it/38Diiq1CA

"THIS BI-" you yelled at the screen. The third time. The third time you lost at that damn card game, and the third time you got annoyed because of it. "How?? How can this be so hard? It's the same technique I always use when I play normally! It works against bosses; why not now in the Genius Invocation TCG? I was so close this time too!" With a frustrated sigh, you let your head fall back. On the screen was still the word "defeat," big and plastered onto a red background for extra drama. Seriously, who had this idea? It's just frustrating at this point. Not even the recommended teams online seemed to work. You even tried copying the other players' teams that defeated you, but you still lost anyway. Why were you doing this again? Oh right... rewards.

Another sigh escaped your mouth when you heard your mother's voice from the kitchen. "Darling! Come down, dinner is ready!" A small smile crept on your face. 'Darling,' a nickname your mom gave you whenever she was in a good mood. Seems like work was quite alright today.

"Coming!" you answered, the dinner smell already reaching you by the time you finally mustered up the courage to sit up. Looking at the screen one last time, you decided to stop playing Genshin Impact for today. You had already done your dailies and everything else you felt like doing. Seriously though, doing dailies started to feel like a chore. That's why you were more than happy to open chests and explore instead. Standing up, you turned the game off and watched the screen go black.

Or... did it?

You were just about to leave the room when it lit up once more, but not with the loading screen, just plain white. "What the..." A bright white light filled the room, instantly blinding you. With your hands lifted before your eyes, you managed to get closer. "What is this?!" you said, a bit of fear in your voice. This had never happened before! You didn't even know that your screen could be so blinding! Just when you were about to touch it, everything went dark. Dark and warm. That's all you felt. Looking around frantically, you tried to make sense of the situation. It was still bright outside, so it shouldn't have been so dark now! Maybe just the aftermath of the blinding light?

"Darling, are you okay?" You heard a voice in the distance, but it felt oddly far away, as if it went further and further away with every word spoken. "M-.. Mom?" you asked, but there was no answer. It was still very warm. So warm. Slowly, you felt yourself grow weaker and weaker. Soon your knees gave in, but you didn't fall while your eyes closed shut. Before you could say anything else, your consciousness had already left your body. . . . . So... comfy. It was so warm, like on a sunny summer day when you lie down on the grass and just enjoy the fresh air. Talking of which, whatever you lay on felt just as nice. The sounds of birds could be heard in the distance. After a couple of minutes, you opened your eyes and saw...

A vast expanse of vibrant green, stretching out before you. You're lying on a bed of soft moss, the texture cushioning your body like the most luxurious mattress. Above, a canopy of trees sways gently in the breeze, their leaves creating a symphony of whispers. Sunlight filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow that dance around you.

You sit up slowly, feeling the softness of the moss beneath your fingers. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest floor. You take a deep breath, the freshness of the air invigorating you. The sounds of chirping birds and the distant babble of a stream create a soothing background melody.

As you look around, the forest feels both alien and familiar. Massive trees with trunks wide enough to house entire rooms rise majestically around you. Their leaves are an array of colors, from the deepest greens to shimmering golds, reflecting the sunlight in a magical display. The forest floor is dotted with flowers of every hue, some glowing faintly, adding to the otherworldly atmosphere.

Confused, you try to remember how you got here. The last thing you recall is the blinding white light from your screen and your mother calling you for dinner. Your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of something soft nuzzling your hand. Looking down, you see a white rabbit, its fur pristine and its eyes large and expressive. It seems completely at ease, cuddling against your hand as if it belongs there.

With a gentle touch, you stroke the fur of the rabbit. It nuzzles into your hand, happy and content. A gentle smile spreads across your face. Have you ever felt so at peace before? It's hard to say when you don't remember anything from before. Not like it matters now. Nothing matters. There is no reason to question anything at all. Not why this wild rabbit is so calm and cuddly with you, not scared at all. Not why you don't feel certain things, like hunger or thirst. It's all so nice and warm and cozy.

Wait, there is something. Some feeling, not very familiar, but you still recognize it. Are you being watched?

Yes. No, no, it can't be that. Probably? Turning around, you scan your surroundings. All the bushes, the trees, and their leaf crowns, then you see it.

It isn't threatening, more weirdly familiar than anything. The small creature is floating above the ground with a little cute 'hat'? One word pops into your head as the creature comes closer: 'Aranara.' But how do you know that? It feels natural, like knowing the name of a dog or cat. Aramasu. This little Aranara's name is Aramasu.

"You're not a Nara," says the curious creature.

You answer, "No, I am no Nara. That's what I believe, at least."

With a soft smile, you reach out, cupping the little Aranara's face. It looks up, surprised, almost speechless. The warmth soothing through its body by the mere touch of you.

"What might you be doing here, little Aramasu?"

The rabbit, still cuddled up in your other hand, seems very happy with the encounter. The Aranara isn't surprised that you know its name; it feels truly natural.

Aramasu's eyes widen slightly, then it relaxes into your touch. "I was just wandering, like I always do. But today felt different. The forest whispered to me of a new presence, something... special."

You look around; the forest seems to glow with a subtle, otherworldly light, as if acknowledging Aramasu's words. The trees sway gently, and the air is filled with a soft, harmonious hum. It feels as though the entire forest is alive and aware of your presence, welcoming you in a way that goes beyond mere coincidence.

"Special?" you ask, intrigued. "How so?"

Aramasu tilts its head, studying you with a curious expression. "You have a light within you, one that resonates with the heart of the forest. It's warm and soothing, like the embrace of the earth itself. It's rare to see such light in anyone other than the forest spirits."

The rabbit nudges your hand, drawing your attention back to its soft fur. You feel a sense of contentment and belonging, unlike anything you've ever experienced—or at least, anything you can remember. The forest, the creatures, even the very air around you, all seem to sing in harmony with your presence.

"Perhaps," Aramasu continues, "you are more than what you think you are. The forest recognizes you, and so do I."

As you ponder Aramasu's words, a sense of purpose begins to stir within you. Though you may not remember your past, the present feels vivid and alive, as if this is where you were always meant to be. The forest, with all its mysteries and wonders, seems to be waiting for you to discover your true self.

-to be continued-

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Thank you so much for reading! Fell free to give me feedback and ideas how to continue this!

Mika