#wasn't sure what to do until I found out one of the people involved still works with children as young as 10

[diapause]

not that I've spoken about things this personal on here in years but I'm very likely going to the police soon with hard evidence of what was done to me as a child so. wish me luck

[biscuitsandwires]

In which Danny wakes up in a weird place.... again.

The thing about Danny, is that he often wakes up in really, really weird situations. Like way more than you'd think, way more than he'd even like, really. He doesn't get that much sleep, being y'know, half ghost, and with school work and having to fight "The Forces of Evil" half the time it gets kind of... tedious, balancing things like sleep and eating and even getting water in him.

It's not really a good thing, but he started carrying around a water bottle he can clip to his bag. It reminds him to at least drink something, when he doesn't have time to grab anything to eat.

But because of all that fun stuff, the not sleeping and not eating and things, he often finds himself taking... unplanned naps. Waking up on the floor, his bed, his desk, one time even in his locker, but that was before his growth spurt. He's a little too big for that now.

Of course, this might take the cake, in terms of weird places he's woken up. He's never been to Gotham, that he remembers, and he certainly has never been to the Wayne Manor. He'd remember that, he thinks, what with the grand architecture, the giant paintings of random people with pearl necklaces and suits... yeah he'd know if he'd been here before.

"Ah, you are awake."

He tries really, really hard not to react to the sudden, aged voice next to him. It sounds like a nice guy, mature and soft like a wool blanket. But he has no idea where he is, when it is, anything, so in one second he's still on the big bed (which it is a BIG bed) and the next he's... well.

Floating ten feet in the air with his fist raised.

To his credit, the older gentleman staring up at him merely blinks, then sighs. "Another enhanced fellow, I suppose. Of course you are."

It's enough to lower Danny's hackles, his confusion growing the amount of time it takes to slowly float back to the floor.

"Can I uh... Can I ask where I am?"

The older man gives him a look. "You, young man, are in the Wayne family home. I'll ask you not to touch anything until the young Master gets back."

That... didn't really clear anything up, if Danny was being real. So he tried again. "Can I ask, uh. Why I'm here, sir?"

Mama didn't raise a ruffian with no manners.

Another sigh, the older man looking like he wanted to go take a nap himself. "I am not fully sure, myself. Young Master Damian found you, I suppose, and brought you here. You have been unconscious for a day or so."

Well. That was concerning all on it's own. Who was Damian? Was he a Wayne? Why was Danny in Gotham at all, he didn't remember a field trip or anything involving Vlad.

He might have started panicking if there wasn't the sudden, entirely too enticing smell of pancakes suddenly under his nose.

"You're entirely too skinny, young man. It's breakfast time." The older gentleman said, holding a tray of wayyy too much food for one person in front of Danny, and really...

What was he gonna do? Deny the man?

He would have to figure out what the hell was going on, later. Right now he had a date with the nicest looking spread he'd ever seen.

"And young man, you may call me Alfred."

Danny grinned, gently taking the tray from him and setting it on a nearby table. "Danny. It's good to meet you."

"Hmm." Alfred mumbled. "I certainly hope so, Master Danny. I certainly hope so."

(pt 2 here)

[empresskylo]

ghost headcanons?!! 🙏🥹

headcanons involve reader being referred to as "she" and afab.

♡ it took you a while to even realize simon was interested in you. the man does not communicate well. my guy would stare at you and you’d think he’s pissed off, but really he’s just trying to get your attention. he’d tease you during missions and you’d just assume he’s being kinda mean. he'd roll his eyes at stupid remarks you'd make, not knowing he was smiling under his mask. he seemed to avoid any direct training with you and you assumed he didn't think you worthy of his time, but really, he just wasn't sure what he'd do if he was forced to be that close to you... touching you.

♡ it isn’t until one day when you’re sparring with soap that ghost steps in. you’re busy tackling soap to the ground, both of you bursting out into a fit of giggles as you straddle him. when simon enters the room his fist automatically tightens. when soap looks up, he immediately stops laughing and shoves you off of him (affectionately). later that night, johnny approaches simon. “hey, Lt. just so you know, there’s nothing between me and—“ “why is that any of my business?” johnny looks at him, his eyebrows quirking upwards. “you know why.” simon grumbles something and storms off.

♡ the day you actually realize ghost likes you is when you’re walking around base in far less clothing than usual. Normally you were either all geared up, covered head to toe, or in a more relaxed sweat attire for relaxing around base. But today there was a heat wave. your hair was down, clinging to your face from the sweat, your abdomen exposed as you walked by him in a cropped tank, your small spandex shorts riding up. ghost did a double take. you teased him (not thinking anything of it; you would have teased any of the men.) “like what you see, Lt.?” ghost glared at you, unable to say anything. your eyes widened. shit, he actually did like what he was seeing.

♡ he is a very, very jealous man. he's not insecure or anything like that, he just can't help but seethe when he sees you acting a little too friendly with anyone else. he wants that side of you all to himself. he also can't stand watching other men come onto you, or acting a little too handsy. he's often ready to chop a man's hand off just for even thinking about flirting with you.

♡ one day as you're just strolling around base, heading to the gym for some training, gaz spied you, looking you up and down. he nudged ghost, who was standing beside him, in a check-her-out gesture; y’know, typical guy stuff. when gaz looked up, ghost was already glaring down at him, not nodding in agreement like he thought he would be. gaz choked, extremely uncomfortable under Lt.‘s death glare (no one likes when ghost had that fury in his eyes). “don’t look at her like that ever again.” gaz raised his hands, a bit panicked, not sure what he did wrong. “okay, shit.” “i’m serious, gaz. i will fucking kill you.” (always the dramatics with ghost.)

♡ you were rather close with soap, and so was simon, but it still bothered him seeing you two together. simon watched as your face visibly blushed at some remark soap made. that alone infuriated him. But then the two of you burst into giggles, your hand reaching out and grabbing soap’s forearm as you leaned forward, laughing. shortly after, you found your way to simon brooding in the corner. “what’s up your ass?” you asked teasingly, but simon wasn’t feeling the same humor as you were. “oh, i’m sorry,” he said with sarcasm, “should i be smiling and jumping up and down with joy as i watch my girlfriend’s face flush as she sits there giggling with another man?” you were surprised—not because simon was acting jealous, but because it was over soap of all people. you and simon both were friends with johnny. “simon…” you said breathlessly, getting him to look down at you, his eyes immediately softening as he looked at you. he sighed, “i know, i know,” he said raising his hands to rub the back of his head. “i just can’t help it. i hate seeing you respond to others like how you respond to me,” his hand came out and cupped your jaw, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “i jus' want you all to myself.”

♡ ghost is needy (-: he’s just a big brute of a man who likes leaning into your chest as you cradle his head, running you hands through his hair, relaxing him. nothing wrong with that.

♡ i mean, this man has some serious trauma, so it’s safe to say the first time you ever comforted him, he was… surprised. unsure of what to do or how to react. he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you. and at first he was put off. he didn’t need that kind of coddling, he was supposed to be an anchor for you, not the other way around. but he succumbed to your soft touches and gentle words, eventually tearing up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your lap, or your chest while you would run fingers through his hair or rub his back, caressing him as much as you could. and eventually, that became something simon craved. sought out. dreamt about. god, he never would have thought he’d be the type of person who would seek out your comforting hugs, wanting to hold you close against his chest as your fingers danced across his skin. or when you’d lay next to him in bed, you’d stroke his jaw, run your thumb over his lips, rest your hands on his chest right above his heart, and simon would shut his eyes, feeling his own form of safety in your arms.

♡ and yes he loves to cuddle and hold you close, but sometimes it felt so fucking good to be held by you. if you were laying on the couch, he’d crawl on top of you, stopping to rest his head on your chest, his heavy body squishing you, his arms coming up to wrap around you as he lay on top of you, your hands twirling strands of his hair.

♡ but he also loved to hold you in his arms and comfort you. there was something so powerful in feeling needed by someone else. he both loved and hated it. but mostly loved it. he liked to be the big spoon, pulling you against his chest, curling into you, literally engulfing you. his favorite thing was when you would sit on his lap though. sometimes you'd lay in his lap, like if you were watching tv, and sometimes you'd come to him, straddle him, and he'd wrap his arms around you, letting you nuzzle into his neck while he traced circles on your back under your shirt.

♡ simon, as much as he attempts to act all stoic and emotionless, is actually very emotional and passionate.

♡ i mean, just by seeing how jealous he gets says a lot. but he also feels other strong emotions. like anger and love.

♡ when ghost realized he loved you, it ate him up from the inside. he had this burning, heady love for you and he didn’t know how to show it. everyone around him seemed capable of expressing their feelings, so why couldn’t he? he just wasn't used to it. he suppressed emotions close to him for so long, it was hard to let them back out again. he would usually profess his love for you when he's had too much to drink. or late at night while you were curled into him after a long mission. it was always after long and difficult missions that he wanted to tell you how he felt the most. he'd usually whisper it in your ear, reminding you how much he cares for you. you'd tell him that you're not going anywhere and simon would squeeze you tighter in response. just those few simple words meant so much to him. he couldn't stand the idea of losing you.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ size kink! size kink! size kink! he's very comfortable in his stature and he is so obsessed with being bigger than you. he loves how tiny your hands look in his. loves having to look down at you, especially when you're mad at him because having to look up at him made you feel silly while you were trying to yell at him. and his stupid smirk didn't help.

♡ and i'm just gonna say it, my guy has a big dick. like the energy matches what's in the pants. and he really enjoys watching you squirm under him while he bottoms out. it always takes a bit to fit him inside and he never gets over that. the way you whimper every fucking time drives him mad.

♡ praise kink!!!! yes sir. he loves to praise YOU. its his favorite thing. its so crazy to him that when he's balls deep inside you, his cute little comments about how good you feel or how pretty you are, makes you blush/get all shy. "you're being so good for me, baby." "god, you feel so fucking amazing." "you're so damn tight." "good girl." "just like that." "fuck, the sounds you're making are so hot." "i'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doin' that, love."

♡ he also likes to call you such cute pet names. it's a nice juxtaposition to the dark, rough exterior he presents. especially when he likes to tease and make crude jokes with the guys. but then he'll whisper something to you so no one else can hear and he'll call you 'princess.'

♡ his favorite names to call you: pet, princess, love, sweet girl!!!! god damn, just hearing his thick accent calling you those names has me swooning. his favorite to use while you're having sex is pet and sweet girl. "gimmie those eyes, sweet girl." "gettin' shy on me now, pet?" other names he likes to call you, just not as regularly: "baby, baby girl, little *insert cute animal here* (little fox, little dove, little doe), sunshine.

♡ he likes when you call him pet names even though he might pretend to hate it. loves specifically being called: my love, handsome, bear, cutie (he'll give you shit for this one, but he always has a shit-eating grin on under his mask when you call him that), big guy.

♡ he's dominant. like so dominant. he likes to be in control. he likes to watch you whither beneath him. he likes to know he's the one doing this to you. the only one. "tell me i'm the only- fuck -one. tell me I'm the only one who makes you come like this."

♡ enjoys missionary a lot because he can look at you in the eyes. he definitely likes to be making eye contact while he fucks you. which is super important to him, especially considering how fucked up his past is, he needs this kind of trust and closeness when he's fucking you.

♡ doggy style is fun, and his hands always leave bruises on your hips. but usually when he takes you from behind, you're both standing. that or he has you bent over something.

♡ he likes to fuck you from behind while standing, his hand gripped around your neck, pulling you up to him so he can see your face and kiss your neck.

♡ he is very much a tease. he likes to torture you all day, making you beg for it at the end of the night. you on your knees is his favorite sight. "tell me what you want, love." "you're gonna have to ask nicer than that." "beg for it."

♡ simon had you on your knees before him, your pants missing but your shirt still in place, your hands twisting the hem of it as you looked at him. his hand came out to stroke your chin, tilting it towards him as he rubbed his thumb along your lower lip. "what do you want from me, pet?" he asked, tilting his head as he appraised you. you gulped. "you." your words were whispered, a cynical smirk forming on simon's lips. "you're gonna have to be more specific than that." you were about to just demand he fuck you, you were getting so impatient, but you knew he only would if you asked sweetly. your face felt hot, shy all of a sudden. simon knew you got shy when he made you beg, and fucking hell, he loved seeing you like that. "i want you to fuck me, simon." he smiled, kicking up a brow. "please," you added. "well since you asked nicely," he said undoing his belt. "but first, you'll have to earn my cock." he lowered his pants and freed himself, his tip already glistening in precum. his hand slid down your jaw and pushed fallen strands of hair behind your ear. "open up that pretty little mouth of yours," he cooed.

[celestemona]

WHERE YOU’RE HIS BELOVED S/O

but you don’t respect the law

pairing: neuvillette x fem former gang leader! reader

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

when you first started dating Neuvillette, the looks you both got on the street were pure admiration and a touch of envy. after all, it was no wonder why when the two of you exuded an unshakable elegance and the stares you exchanged with each other drew long sighs from even the most unromantic person.

wherever you went together people would whisper in delight, gossiping about your last date and pointing out on how you filled in what the other lacked. from your charming, mysterious personality to Neuvillette's seriousness and honesty, you and him were considered the most famous, beautiful and powerful couple in Fontaine — the definition of perfect for each other.

but many still wondered how the Chief Justice got his heart stole after spending the last few years rejecting any potential partners, because even the most senior citizens of the capital remember only seeing the iudex accompanied only by the eccentric hydro archon, to whom he served more as a responsible guardian than a right hand.

the truth was that for nearly a decade you had been in Neuvillette's crosshairs. or rather, in the crosshairs of the law.

what the hydro nation’s population didn’t imagine was that behind your sweet smiles and kind words was hiding an ambitious, astute woman and former head of one of the most famous illegal organizations in Fontaine with connections throughout Teyvat. and for years you managed to manage and expand your business without the goddess herself being suspicious of all the illegal activities that went on under her nose.

at that time, you didn't know which of the fontanian authorities to watch out for and so you loosened the reins. unfortunately or not, that was your downfall so you couldn't hide from the Chief Justice for very long — in fact, you actually did.

the only relationship that Neuvillette had for all the decades (centuries) he was alive was with his responsibility, therefore, it wasn’t difficult for you to use the art of persuasion and seduction to get rid of the main objectives of the man who was to take you to court and condemn you for your crimes.

for months you've been successful in your escapes, using your wiles, wits and contacts to hide any evidence that could land you in trial.

however, it wasn't until you ended up stumbling into your own trap that you found yourself willingly surrendering to the dragon-man.

it was only when you partially abandoned the illegal business that you then started dating, though. Neuvillette might love you irrevocably but he wouldn't date someone who was involved in fraud or smuggling — besides, you too were tired of your old life and so left your leader's chair to your most faithful and trusted friend.

although you now had a good business as a florist in the hydro capital, you still pulled strings to smuggle some rare flowers from Sumeru or seeds only found in the heart of Natlan to your shop. Neuvillette would usually stare at you in disapproval, but then forget to give you a lecture for the way you managed to distract him with kisses and sweet talk.

“last time this month, my love. i promise."

“ma chérie, you said that last week.”

“i know i know! but do you know Colette? that kind lady who always offers us the freshest macarons from her thursday batches? she loved the popularity of Kalpalatas in her bakery and made me an order of sixty of them, can you believe that? Kalpalatas are not easy to find, mon amour. no no.”

Neuvillette could only sigh in weariness, the silver engagement ring on his right ring finger glinting as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“make sure the goods arrive before dawn on tuesday.”

smiling mischievously you declared “i love you.”

even if this new life was quite different from your original character, no one could dispute how it fit you so well. even your former subordinates had only positive comments to make about how the domestic routine suited you. and you really wouldn't change a thing about it because you were never as happy as you were with the man who lay down beside you every night, and dawned with his arms tightly around you.

if anything, you wouldn't change anything in your life because that way you would never meet Neuvillette.

even if there was still so much difference between the two of you, there couldn't be a better relationship of companionship and understanding than that.

that must be the reason why that instead of running away again, you preferred to be caught.

[ravenna-reid]

Battle Scars

Reader is from a planet of warriors. A planet where each scar is seen as honourable rather than ugly. When she accidentally sees Jason's scars, she can't help but look at them in amazement, much to Jason's surprise...

I really hope ya'll like this one...lmk!!

"Come on, lift you arms."

With an agitated sigh, Jason did as Dick asked and raised his muscled arms. Dick quickly pulled Jason's bloodied and torn shirt from his body and threw it to the floor, analysing the gash that sat across Jason's chest.

"What, did you get into a with Catwoman or something?" Tim asked, grimacing as he looked at the gruesome scene.

""I'll break your nose replacement." Venom coated his words, and Jason's expression read that he wasn't joking, so with that, Tim shook his head and left the room.

Just outside wandering the empty halls of Wayne manor was the girl Batman had found just a month prrior. Tall and toned, carved muscles on your arms and legs. A slick scar the colour of pearls ran down the side of your jaw to the top of your neck. A few more decorated your back and arms. A stern expression and soft eyes. You were a warrior from another planet Bruce had told everyone. He wasn't sure what planet though, seeming as whenever you told him the name, no records of it could be found. Not even those on the Justice League could find the unusual planet you were calling home. .

You weren't Kryptonian and you weren't an Amazon, even though your ideals and principles aligned with theirs. Nor were you a Martian, or an Atlantean or a Tamaranean. So what the hell were you?

Well, you kept telling them over and over. You were Idorian, from Idoria, but your home planet was apparently non-existent. 'A part of another timeline' was the theory.

"Non-existent as far as you're concerned." You had muttered with the roll of your eyes.

All they knew was that you'd accidentally been dragged to Earth when an incident a few months back involving portals and timelines threw you down from the sky into Bruce Wayne's garden. They also learnt that you had immense strength and durability. You could fly. You almost bested Wonder Woman in melee combat, almost. And electricity didn't affect you one bit. Other than that, you were a complete mystery.

And a certain seemingly uninterested vigilante seemed to liked that.

Tim watched as you looked out the grand windows lining the hallway, still amazed by the fact that Earth only had one sun.

A warm smile grew on his face. "Hey y/n, what are you doing?"

"Nothing much. You?"

Tim shrugged. "I was helping Dick mend Jason until I was threatened." He scoffed, trying to mask it with a bitter laugh.

A warmth grew in your cheeks at the mention of his name. Why? You had no idea.

"Why, what happened to him -?"

"Tim! You took the antiseptic with you!" Dick suddenly called out from the room, Jason's annoyed mumbles following.

Tim let out a huff, much to your confusion, "I don't wanna go back in there with that son of a bitch."

"It's alright, I can if you want." You offered, holding out your hand and questioning what a son of a bitch was. Humans were easily injured compared to your people, so it would be interesting to see the healing process.

"Are you sure?" Tim asked, his brow raising, "He can be a real ass, especially when people are trying to help him."

"Yeah, I'm sure." You replied, so Tim placed the odd looking bottle in your hands before you walked into the room.

Your footsteps echoed through the atmosphere. Instantly, Jason's eyes snapped up to meet yours, his cheeks burning a subtle red before he quickly looked away. A wince escaped him as he tried to subtly cover up his body. Too bad my shirt is on the damn floor he thought to himself. Picking up on Jason's change in demeanour, Dick turned to look at you, a charming grin appearing on his face immediately.

"Y/n! I haven't seen you in ages, how are you?" Dick had just finished pulling out the last shard of glass from Jason's slash and dropped the bloody tweezers on the tray beside him.

"I'm fine thank-you. Here is...well, this." You said, holding the bottle out to him. "Tim gave it to me."

"Thanks, y/n." He grabbed the bottle from you then looked back at the array of medical supplies sprawled across the table beside him. Hands cupped together in his lap, Jason stole glances of you here and there, glad that you were more interested in the odd looking tools Dick was focusing on rather than him.

"Shit, I just realised I forgot the stuff for the stitches," Dick turned to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "I'm just gonna run and grab some things. Can you watch him for me real quick?"

"I don't need a babysitter Dick." Jason quipped, his eyes trained on his brother. Please just let her leave.

"I don't mind." You responded, and that usual glint of joy passed through Dick's eyes.

"Thanks, I'll be back in a sec."

With that, Dick left the room, leaving you two alone.

"Why did you do that?"

You looked over at Jason with a puzzled look, "What do you mean?"

"You don't have to watch me. You can go if you like." Jason swallowed hard, doing his best to act unfazed by the fact that you were standing right there.

"It's alright, I'm kind of curious to see how this all works on your planet."

His gaze averted back onto the floor, his body instinctively turned from you. You, however, were watching him. The wound had stopped bleeding, and it didn't look too deep, but it stretched across one side of his chest and onto his bicep. Looking at his arms, you couldn't help but think about how he looked like those perfect sculptures back home.

"Does it hurt?"

"No." So curt. So closed off. You were going to remain quiet until you did a double take. Silver streaks painted his chest. His abdomen and arms. There were even some on his back that caught your eye.

"Wow." The words fell from your lips, and Jason's eyes cut back to you.

"What?" He asked, meaning to sound more curious than defensive.

You walked over to where he sat, eyes trained on all of his scars. All of his accomplishments. Back at home, whenever someone attained a scar, it meant they had cheated death. They had been lucky and strong enough to survive. It was why you never hid yours. A scar is a victory. A glorious one too. And Jason had many victories.

A sickening tightening sensation began in Jason's throat as you neared, still obviously oblivious to personal space, especially Jason's. He watched as you stared at his biggest insecurities, the things that would taint his body forever and remind him of the horrors he was forced to endure. Immediately, he grew even more self-conscious. Sick. Angry.

"What the hell are you doing?" He snapped, but you ignored it.

"If the elders back home saw this, they'd call you a war hero." You let a light laugh.

His frown faltered a little, his glistening eyes watching you intensely. It was as though your eyes were tracing each and every tarnished bit of his skin. "You have so many."

His frown was back, a shot of anger burning through his chest at your comment. Why did you of all people have to say that? Jason drew in a deep, shaky breath, but before he could speak you told him how impressive it all was, and now the frown was even deeper than before. "What?"

You looked up at him, and suddenly his head was reeling. Jason found that some part of him, a hidden away part that was deep deep down, wanted you to look at him like that for the rest of his life. A look that said he was worth something. That he wasn't this ugly, scarred monster. Skin crawling and muscles tensed, he managed to ignore it. Just for now. Just this once. He quickly cleared his throat as he waited for your explanation.

"Your scars...they- you have so many victories." You repeated, "Many more than me." You pulled the sleeve of your shirt back to show him. Jason's eyes ran along the silver lines on your arms before his attention turned to your skin. The muscles on your arms. The glossy hair that ran over your shoulder. His eyes drew up your neck to your lips...

He quickly looked away, shame and bashfulness so blatantly evident on his face.

"What do you mean..." His tone was distant, until he paused. "Victories?" Now he was curious.

You frowned. "What do you mean? Scars are honourable. They show strength. Tell stories. You must be a valiant fighter. A survivor." You smiled at him gently, pointing your finger at them. And it was like something got caught in his throat.

Silence washed over the room like a soft wave. Jason kept to himself as his big, bright eyes watched you. He turned your words in his head, amazed at how you viewed this topic. He almost waited for you to correct yourself or take the compliment back. Because there was no way. No way you were truly being honest about how you viewed the ugliest parts of himself. Everyone had always looked at his scars that same way, with pity and aversion. And yet you...

"You really think like that?" He asked, looking up at you through his dishevelled, raven hair.

"Doesn't everyone?"

A soft, subtle smile tugged at Jason's lips, and suddenly your heart was hammering in your chest, faster than a hiccup. Jason watched you attentively now, still shy, but not as ashamed or ill at ease. Since when was he so comfortable around others, especially a stranger? Especially about the things that kept him up at night? Especially with someone that was on his mind 24/7....

Dick suddenly bursted back into the room, a needle and bobbin of nylon string in his hand. "Sorry Jace, had to get Alfred to look for it."

Jason shook his head at Dick as he got started on stitching him back up. "I can do it myself you know -"

"Shut it." Dick responded.

Jason's gaze fell back onto you and he almost felt like collapsing when you said you'd leave them be and see them later. You realised the longer you stood with him, the lighter your head was becoming. So with that, you left the room, and all Jason could think about for the rest of the day was you.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

quality time with auntie kei | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

another blurb which was fun to write based on this ask!

buddy has the best relationship with her auntie keira - she is her god mother as well, which is something that leah was set on from the minute that she found out she was expecting

keira is so close with the little one and more often than not, just pick up the phone to buddy just yapping down it after she's sneakily stolen it from leah without her knowing

"auntie kei! auntie kei!"

"hello there little miss, did you happen to steal your mummy's phone again when she wasn't looking?"

"yes! i wanted to speak to 'ou. i miss 'ou lots!"

"i miss you too, buddy. it won't be long until i can see you though and then when i do, we'll get ice cream. that sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

"yes, ice cream! with lots of sprinkles!"

"of course! it wouldn't be ice cream without sprinkles now, would it?"

"yes! ice cream! ice cream!"

"all the ice cream in the world for you, little miss!"

monkey's own relationship with keira was quite reserved at the start and she did have her guard up, just like she did around most people at the start

however gradually, monkey learnt to trust keira through the fact that she is leah's best friend and of course the blonde trusts her a lot and with being a part of the lionesses, it means that she has started to lower her walls now slightly.

"i need your help,"

"with what?"

"can you convince the buzz kill over there that it's perfectly safe to sky dive like i want to do?"

"what?"

"cos' like she thinks it's totally not safe for me to do that and is reluctant to let me, just like the buzz kill that she is!"

"i mean, it sounds like fun, so sure!"

"awesome, yeah. wanna join?"

needless to say that leah wasn't so thrilled about the idea of that and was deadly against it, she couldn't believe that monkey had tried to con keira into getting her to agree

"come on, let the kid have some fun. you only live once, you know?"

"yeah and that is kind of why the answer is no, kei."

"what's your motto that you said on an interview, huh? life's for living-- let her do it!"

"see, this right here is the reason i don't let you around my kids often enough when you encourage this stuff,"

"monkey's right, you are a buzz kill,"

"thank god we have rules against this kind of stuff then-- no sky diving, don't try and get keira involved in your schemes!, monkey!"

"awh, shucks. see? told you she was a buzz kill."

monkey was for sure gutted that leah wouldn't allow her to sky dive on this occasion, but it doesn't stop her trying to involve keira in the rest of her ideas to get leah on board still though

[cosmicbucky]

A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....

Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.

And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.

He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.

Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP

hi, lovely! 💫

first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!

second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.

i hope you enjoy!

matches

pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader

word count: 3974

warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!

please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic

a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 

You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 

Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 

You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 

You never knew. 

You never actually met him.

All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 

Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 

You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 

You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 

Until the day you finally met Bucky. 

It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 

You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 

It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 

You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 

All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 

By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 

A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 

Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 

"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 

"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 

His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 

"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 

"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."

You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."

"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 

"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.

"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 

"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.

"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."

You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 

So, you agreed. 

And that's how everything started. 

You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 

Only yourself. 

When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 

Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 

Except for when it came to Bucky. 

You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.

When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 

Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 

You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 

It was driving Bucky crazy.

From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 

He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 

Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 

He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 

The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 

He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.

You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 

With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 

Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 

You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 

A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 

“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 

You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 

“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 

You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 

“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 

“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 

You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 

“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”

“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 

“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 

“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 

“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”

“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 

“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 

“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”

“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 

“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 

“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 

“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 

“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 

“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 

"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 

You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 

He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.

"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 

You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 

He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 

"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 

"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 

"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 

"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 

"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 

"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 

"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 

"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 

"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 

"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 

You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 

He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 

"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 

"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 

"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 

"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 

"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 

"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 

You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 

Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 

You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 

He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.

Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.

So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  

You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 

He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 

"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.

"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 

You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 

"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 

And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 

You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.

[yeoosaangg]

Church || Kinktober - Day 15

pairing ▸ na jaemin × f!reader

now playing ▸ church - chase atlantic

⤷ ❝and i'll keep leading you on if you keep leading me into your room.❞

genre ▸ non-idol au, situationship, smut, angst

warnings ▸ mirror sex, fingering, marking, praise, choking, breeding kink

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

Everyone in your new town warned you - do not get involved with Na Jaemin.

It was odd to be told that right out the gate, but you complied. It was a small town, with one university for the locals to attend if they wish to remain in familiar territory.

You chose this college because it's where your mom grew up. She passed away last year and you wanted to fulfill her wishes of seeing the place.

Your dad wasn't enthusiastic in moving there, but he'll do what your mom said because he still loves her.

And when you met a few people, they'd tell you about everyone's business. Literally.

The head cheeleader? Sleeping with the football coach.

The football captain? Sleeping with the music teacher.

Na Jaemin? Stay away from him.

You listened to your new friends for a while; you did not want to be a part of the drama. But because you were "fresh", you had caught his attention next.

Jaemin: One date. I swear you won't regret it.

Y/n: No thanks. Have a nice day.

He didn't give up until you finally cracked. He took the opportunity to approach you when he found out your friends didn't have classes for the day.

Jaemin: I'm serious, let me take you on a date.

This time around, you caved - only to get him to back off!

But after the one date, you both couldn't stay away from each other. You, because he made you feel alive. Him, because you're the perfect little fuckdoll.

Every other girl in that town was so eager to sleep with him, he did it to shut them up and never go back.

But you, wow you couldn't have been more perfect. A virgin willing to let him teach you how to please him? Why would he ever say no to that?

And then the inevitable happened - you fell in love with him.

You knew, by the caution of others, that he wasn't one for commitment. He'll fuck a girl once and never go back. But you felt special because he did come back. Multiple times, in fact.

Everytime you'd bring up a possible relationship, he shuts it down and distracts you with his kisses.

You couldn't take it anymore and decided cut him off if he wasn't going to take you seriously.

Jaemin: C'mon, angel. Don't throw us away.

Y/n: There is no us, Jaemin. You made sure of that.

And you kept your word. You stopped seeing him in secrecy, occupying yourself with your studies. You even met a guy who makes you laugh and feel important.

And Jaemin made a fool of himself by picking a fight with him during one of the lunch breaks.

Juyeon: What the fuck is your problem, dude?

Jaemin: You're my fucking problem, Lee Juyeon. Stay the fuck away from Y/n.

Juyeon: Why should I? Because she agreed to go on a date with me after rejecting you for months?

Jaemin: She's mine. I don't fucking share.

Juyeon: She's no one's property, Na. No wonder she hates you.

That set Jaemin off. He doesn't even know what he's doing, all he knows is he's angry and Juyeon's his target. Lefts and rights collide onto his jaw, drawing blood.

It wasn't until he heard your voice that he finally stops beating the man to a pulp.

Y/n: What the fuck is wrong with you?

Jaemin: Baby, I can expl-

Y/n: Shut up. Just stay the fuck away from me.

You crouch down, helping Juyeon to his feet. You were going to accompany him to the infirmary, but Jaemin wasn't having it.

You yelp when he lifts you off the ground, making his way out of the dining hall and out to the student parking lot. He opens his car and makes sure to put your seatbelt on.

You try to get out, but the door stays locked. Did he child proof it? Such an asshole.

All your friends were in distress as they saw you trying to get out. Jaemin drives off in the direction of his apartment that no one knew belongs to him.

No one except you.

Y/n: Jaemin, please. Just forget about me.

Jaemin: You're fucking crazy if you think I'll listen to that stupid request. I don't want other men touching what's mine.

Y/n: I'm not yours.

Jaemin: Why do you keep saying that? I'm the one that took your virginity, first kiss, first everything! That makes you mine.

Y/n: No, it doesn't. It just means I trusted you at the time.

Jaemin: You don't trust me now?

Y/n: Not with the way you're acting.

If you weren't looking at him, you'd miss the tears streaming down his face.

He never cries.

Jaemin: Baby, please don't say things like that. It hurts to hear you say you don't trust me.

Y/n: Why are you crying? You don't even care about me the way I needed you to.

Jaemin: I want to.

What?

Jaemin: I want to care about you that way, but I don't know how. You're the first girl I've ever felt something more with than just lust. And it fucking terrifies me. But when you left? I felt like I was dying, angel.

This can't be happening right now.

He pulls into the apartment complex's parking garage, and both of you just sit in silence until he speaks up.

Jaemin: Please don't leave me.

Y/n: I can't keep doimg this with you, Jaemin.

Jaemin: Why not?

He looks so sad, an emotion he never displays. You don't want to give in, in case it's all an act.

Y/n: You don't like me that way, Jaemin.

Jaemin: And how would you know that?

You don't, but if he did he would've asked you out when you voiced your affection.

Jaemin: Come upstairs with me. I'll show you that I'm serious about this.

You should've known better than to listen because now he has you on our knees in front of a large, full length mirror.

Jaemin: Remember that conversation we had when we started this?

Y/n: How could I forget?

He asked you what your biggest fantasy in bed was, so you naturally replied with the truth - to be fucked in front of a mirror.

He never gave you that fantasy back then, just stored the information for later.

Your breath hitches when he starts to undress you.

He pauses a bit when he senses your hesitation. Despite his past actions, he meant everything he said on the way there.

Jaemin: Do you want this?

Y/n: Yes.

Jaemin: Are you sure?

Y/n: I want to see if you're telling the truth.

He tries to smile, but it just falls.

He knows it's going to take a lot more than just fucking you to show that he's serious about you. He'll gladly spend months, even years, proving himself to you.

Jaemin continues to undress you, touching everywhere with such tenderness. He usually gets straight to the point and fucks you dumb.

But this wasn't just any rendezvous hookup, you're his everything. And he wants to show you that.

He starts fondling your breasts, using his fingers to stimulate your nipples.

You hate how his touch instantly relaxes you. You don't want to admit it, but you've missed him.

Jaemin: I've never had someone consume every part of my mind, body, and soul the way you have, princess. But, fuck, I don't want that to stop.

Y/n: Really?

Jaemin: Mhm. I can't lose you again, baby. I was already feeling crazy this time around. Next time, I fear I'll do something reckless.

Y/n: You think there'll be a next time?

Jaemin: I have to be realistic. This is all new to me, and I'm bound to make mistakes. But I hope you can find it in your heart to see that I'm trying. For you.

You lay your head against his shoulder, grinding down on his clothed erection.

Y/n: We'll figure it out if the time comes. For now, show me that you mean what you're saying.

He nods, kissing you deeply as his hand travels down to your clit. A moan falls passed your lips - right next to his ear - from finally being touched.

He slides his finger up and down your folds, loving the way your eyes are trained at the mirror. He can see you biting your bottom lip at the sight.

He shoves two fingers inside, making you choke on your moan. He just pumps his fingers rapidly, eventually adding another.

Jaemin: Keep looking, baby. Want you to see how gorgeous you look when you cum for me.

He starts painting your neck with lots of dark marks, staring at you through the mirror. You cum all over his fingers and the floor.

Jaemin: Beautiful.

You watch yourself catch your breath, a smile curling at the corners of your lips. That was so hot, you want more.

He undresses himself, and then positions himself right behind you. He hooks his arm to both of yours, lining his hard cock to your pussy.

Jaemin: Do not look away. Want you to see just how much of a goddess you are when I fuck you. Can you do that for me, angel?

You nod, wiggling your ass so he can put it in already.

He chuckles, bottoming out with no hesitation. He knows you can take his big size perfectly.

You watch yourself ceumble as his thrusts get rougher and slower. He wants you to feel his cock stretching your gummy walls - and, fuck, do you feel it.

Jaemin: You look so pretty taking all of my cock, princess.

He reaches around to hold you by the throat, letting go of your arms in the process. You scream, cumming again from the sensitivity.

He doesn't stop ramming his dick into you, loving the way your face is contorting to one of pure pleasure.

The way he's choking you forces the eye contact you have to make through the mirror. You love the way he's also moaning along with you - usually he grunts quietly.

Jaemin: You're doing so good, baby. Love the way your cunt begs for my cock. Did you miss me, too?

Y/n: So much!

It was hard to speak with his hand around your throat, so a short and simple answer will suffice. He didn't mind, though - your eyes tell him everything.

Jaemin: You want to cum again, don't you? Go ahead, love. Cum all over my cock.

It was like his words activated another orgasm. You can feel your essence dripping down your thighs and onto his.

You feel him fill you up, moaning as the warm liquid paints your gummy walls.

But he still wasn't done.

He pushes your head down onto the ground, chin up so you can still see yourselves.

Jaemin: Gonna get you pregnant, angel. Fill you up so no other man thinks he has a chance with you. They're gonna see how happy we are and get jealous.

You moan, clenching around his cock. You honestly love that idea more than you should.

Jaemin: You like that, don't you princess? Then I'll make it happen.

He continues to pound your pussy, the position allowing him to fuck you deeper than ever. He just abuses your hole until you're filled with three loads of his kids.

He kisses your shoulders, winking at you while his hips smack against your ass.

Jaemin: Look at you falling apart, baby. Think you can cum for me one more time?

Y/n: Mhm.

You can't even speak anymore with how good his cock is opening you up. You both cum one last time, staying in the position until he can properly pull out.

Jaemin: Keep your ass up. Don't want to watch anymore cum escape.

All you could do was listen because your body was twitching from getting fucked dumb by him.

He comes back and gently inserts a plug in your cunt, kissing in between your thighs to help distract you.

Jaemin: I'm running a bath. I'll take good care of you, my princess.

You just let him carry you into the bathroom.

He doesn't get in the tub with you, choosing to focus on you instead. He washes your hair and body so delicately, you'd think he was handling glass.

Y/n: Is it too soon to say the L word?

He freezes for a moment before he smiles at you.

Jaemin: Yeah. But I'll let you know when we can, okay?

Y/n: Okay.

═══

a/n: yeah, i jinxed myself. gonna go sleep (,,•﹏•,,) thanks for reading ‹𝟹

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

Pure Vanilla's nightmares have lessened, recently.

He knows that's because they've left the Faerie Kingdom far behind now, so Shadow Milk has no real reason to try and provoke him into setting him free anymore, but Pure Vanilla can't help but feel hopeful that it might be indicative of some real progress too.

After all, he's been having more and more dream talks with Shadow Milk recently, and most of them are fairly civil. It hasn't stopped the mockery or taunting entirely, but he has realised that once Shadow Milk has an interesting topic of conversation to entertain, he tends to be a little less antagonistic.

Dare he say it, their acquaintance as of late has almost been... nice. Which is why, perhaps, he had mustered the courage to try and pry beyond Shadow Milk's academic career.

"I found one of your old portraits, I think. It was quite damaged." Pure Vanilla says slowly, because he has spent an embarrassing amount of his spare time recently trying to track down any relics from Shadow Milk's past, to be able to prompt him with them. "...You looked rather different."

Today, the dreamscape takes the form of Pure Vanilla's personal chambers, albeit bathed in darkness that is broken up by the fragile light of the moon, filtering in through the tall windows. Pure Vanilla is sat in his familiar armchair, relaxed without his staff or hat on his person, and keeping his idle gaze on his conversation partner. Shadow Milk is floating by his bookshelves, walking his fingers along the spines of the books. His back is towards him, but his extra eyes blink lazily at Pure Vanilla in silent acknowledgement.

"Why does that matter?" Shadow Milk drawls, before letting out an overdramatic gasp. He kicks back, tilting until he hangs upside-down in the air as he clasps his hands to his chest like he is heartbroken, their gazes snapping together like magnets. "I never would have expected you, of all people, to care about appearances so much! Am I not pretty enough as I am, is that it?"

His laments could have gone on for much longer, but Pure Vanilla cut him off quickly, slightly exasperated. "No, no, that wasn't what I was saying, and you know that."

Shadow Milk stops his fake wailing immediately, eyes curved into mischievious crescents as he glances over at him, and Pure Vanilla sighs. "It's just... interesting, I suppose. You look like two completely different people – unless it really wasn't your portrait?"

Shadow Milk bobs his head from side to side as if he were physically turning the words over in his head, before a thin mean smile slices clean across his face. "People change, Vani! Shouldn't you know that already, knowing our dear Guardian?"

Pure Vanilla tenses in his seat, balling his hands into fists in his lap. "I told you not to talk about her, didn't I?" He mutters with a frown, reminded once again that a conversation with Shadow Milk can never be completely smooth.

"Did you? I must not have heard you." Shadow Milk hums, righting himself in a way that involves far too much limb contortion. He drifts over to the table Pure Vanilla is sitting at, leaning against the edge and casually sweeping the vase of white lilies there off the table with one arm, quick enough that Pure Vanilla can barely react.

The vase shatters with a crash, and the half-bloomed petals are ruined by the fall. Pure Vanilla jolts, aching at the sight and his voice falls out pitched. "Shadow Milk-!"

"It's only a dream, no need to get worked up over it." Shadow Milk replies, tone carrying an edge of annoyance, though Pure Vanilla isn't sure why. Shadow Milk perches on the edge of the table with one leg over the other, lounging as he props himself up with one hand, his expression odd.

Still, he is right. It is only a dream, and Pure Vanilla cannot let himself be affected so easily anyway. He hesitantly tears his gaze away from the broken vase, turning his attention back to his curiosity, which is easy to do with Shadow Milk's face now right in front of him.

Pure Vanilla occupies himself with comparing the face before him with the memory of that portrait, eyes carefully tracing every visible difference in the wavering moonlight. The way his face is framed is different, for one, with the loss of his monocle and the change in his icing, and it makes him look harsher. His colour is off, somehow, and his silhouette has twisted too. That once collected, near regal posture has been overtaken by the lax, twisting strangeness that Shadow Milk often moves with, but to say it is gone completely isn't true. The smooth line of his back, even lounging like this, holds the ghost of that perfect posture.

And his eyes—

"Your eyes are the same." Pure Vanilla doesn't even notice he has spoken aloud until the words have fallen out of his mouth, soft and light like feathers.

It is true, though. His eyes aren't exactly the same physically, the pupils having grown to slits, but the spark and sharpness of them are just like the ones captured in that portrait. If he focuses on them, Pure Vanilla can almost imagine that he is there before everything went wrong, sharing a moment with that brilliant, revered scholar.

He is so mesmerised by those eyes that he immediately notices the way they crinkle in the corners, glittering with thinly veiled amusement, just before Shadow Milk snickers. "I know my eyes are stunningly handsome, but you can talk to me while you get lost in them. There's nothing more boring than silence!"

Pure Vanilla blinks quickly in response, startled out of his dreamy contemplation. Instantly, he feels the heat of embarrassment begin to darken his cheeks, and he closes his eyes on instinct, ducking his head slightly. Shadow Milk's giggles coil around his shoulders, and to move on from his own bout of confusion, Pure Vanilla frantically tries to pin down a conversation topic.

"Never mind that. You always insist on maintaining conversations with me." Pure Vanilla comments, something like concern and the beginnings of anxiety heavy on his tongue. "I know your circumstance doesn't allow for socialisation, but can you not even talk to your friends?"

It's a risky question, and Pure Vanilla knows that, even before he asks it. He has done his best to steer clear of topics that are even remotely related to Shadow Milk's imprisonment so far, for fear of provoking him. But this question has been simmering in his mind for a while now, so it is the only one he could think of in his haste. He won't be able to learn more about him if he doesn't press further, anyway, and now is as good a time as any.

Pure Vanilla had expected a bit of a pause, the sort of charged silence he has grown to expect from Shadow Milk when he is faced with a question he actually wants to consider, so he is surprised by the near immediate response.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I can." Shadow Milk replies, sounding remarkably flippant about it.

Pure Vanilla takes a moment to try and find a way to word himself delicately, hands fidgeting where they rest in his lap. "...Well, you always act like I'm the only person you talk to regularly. I thought, perhaps, you're–"

Lonely, but Pure Vanilla cannot get the word past his teeth, biting down on it uncomfortably. He has a feeling saying that wouldn't be well-received, or at the very least, not taken seriously.

Shadow Milk seems to understand the implication anyway, scoffing. There's a scramble of movement, and that prompts Pure Vanilla to open his eyes again, finding that Shadow Milk has dropped down to lay across the table on his back.

"I can tell you what I am, I'm bored. Why do you think we're so desperate to get out, huh? It's because there's nothing to do!" Shadow Milk throws his arms up, gesturing wildly as his voice starts swinging and his expression pinches with building agitation, kicking his legs furiously over the edge of the table. For the first time, Pure Vanilla is stricken by how similar it looks to a Cake Wolf pacing a cage, driven to a frenzy by claustrophobia. "We can talk to each other, but do you have any idea how long we've been stuck in there? We've run out of topics years ago, and they don't entertain my debates in the right way anyhow. There's no fun in that!"

Without warning, Shadow Milk flies up into a sitting position, his form blurring and peeling at the edges. Pure Vanilla watches him with concern as he lets out a raspy huff, teetering on the edge of a laugh.

"But I like talking to you so I do. That's all there is to it." Shadow Milk declares, voice lilting to something sweeter. A crooked smile surfaces on his face, and he jerks forward in an unnatural manner, as if he were a puppet on strings. He cups Pure Vanilla's face in his hands who, having slowly adjusted to the fact that Shadow Milk is prone to impulsive physical contact, only flinches slightly at the suddenness. "Did that never occur to you, silly?"

Pure Vanilla's mouth opens and closes soundlessly, settling into an uncertain line. To hear Shadow Milk say that so frankly caught him off-guard, as he always does, torn between suspicion and that tempting optimism that has been slowly gathering in his heart. "Well, I wasn't–"

His voice crumbles in his throat as Shadow Milk pulls his face towards him and presses a scorching kiss to the four-point star on his forehead. The dreaded warmth returns to gather in his face, made obvious by the contrast between the flush and the cold press of his hands.

He shouldn't be so flustered - this isn't the closest they've been - but his embarrassment only makes it worse.

"Don't overthink everything, you'll turn your brain into charcoal. That would just be a pity." Shadow Milk teases against his forehead, his dozens of eyes winking with silent laughter as he pulls back, hands slipping from his face and—

—Pure Vanilla wakes up, frazzled and unsure. He stares at the ceiling, hesitantly pressing a hand to his forehead. His dough is buzzing.

He lays there for a while, confused by the warmth within him and considering the interaction once more. Shadow Milk said he enjoyed talking to him, and Pure Vanilla believes him, if only because he really does seem engaged with their conversations.

And if that's true, then maybe they really can resolve everything through words. For all his strangeness, Shadow Milk does seem to follow some sort of line of logic during their debates, and logic, regardless of what kind, has the chance to be reasoned with.

He thinks of sharp, painted eyes and countless conversations on studies, research, literature, philosophy. He thinks of claustrophobic madness and the endless hunger of the scholar and pity, pity, pity.

Pure Vanilla sighs, and for the first time in very long, he finds himself tempted to return to sleep.

[next]

[anastasiareadsnwrites]

Can I request a Benedict Bridgerton x female reader? Where the reader slightly older than him?

Only way is up (Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader)

Author's note: Hiya, this was certainly exciting to write. Please don't hesitate to request more Bridgerton characters. I am going through a difficult time and some of my fanfics will be coming out later than usual.

Summary:You and Benedict have been hiding that you both have been seeing each other for quite awhile until a little birdie has observed to much to keep it a secret from their mama.

Warning(s):Mild Angst, Fluff, somewhat of family drama, author is sleep deprived, more to be added.

The MAIN Masterlist

The Bridgerton Masterlist

You had always known that getting involved with Benedict Brigerton would be a delicate dance. Since you were slightly older than the man. Not just because of the whirlwind of emotions that accompanied every secret smile or the way your heart raced when he touched your hand under the table. No, it was more than that.

Benedict was not just any man; he was a Bridgerton. And being part of the family meant eyes everywhere-keen, watchful, and always curious.

The two of you had been managing so well, too. Hidden glances, stolen moments, rendezvous under the soft cover of night where you could be yourselves. Free from the prying eyes of high society, free to let your hearts roam wild.

But you knew it couldn't last forever.

One morning, as you were making your way back to the little cafe where you often met Benedict, you noticed something off in the air. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was brewing, and it wasn't just the fresh batch of coffee. Maybe it was the way people were whispering a little more than usual as you passed by. Or the way Lady Whistledown's latest edition spole of secrets to juicy to remain hidden for long.

Later that evening, as you met Benedict in the gardens of the Bridgertons estate, he looked more troubled than you'd even seen him. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced with a furrowed brow.

"We've been found out," He murmured, taking your hand in his.

You blinked, heart pounding in your chest. "What do you mean?"

"I overheard Eloise talking to my mother. Apparently, someone-some little birdie-saw us together last week. My mother...she knows something is going on. She's been asking questions."

Your breath hitched. The thought of Lady Violet discovering your secret filled you with dread. Benedict's mother was sharp and protective, and if she knew, it wouldn't take long before the entire ton knew as well.

"What are we going to do?" you asked your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at you, a soft determination in his eyes. "We're going to be honest, love. I can't hide you any longer. I don't want to."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had always known this moment might come, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt heavier than you expected.

"Benedict," you whispered, stepping closer to him, "are you sure? What if your mother...what if she doesn't approve? What if the rumors spread? This could ruin everything for you."

Benedict's grip on your hand tightened as he brought it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles. "Let them talk. I've never cared for society's approval, and I certainly don't care now when it comes to you." His voice was steady, filled with certainly that made the anxious knots in your stomach loosen, if only slightly.

You felt the warmth of his touch calm your racing thoughts, but the fear still lingered. "But your family....they're everything to you. I can't be the reason there's tension between you and your mother. I wouldn't forgive myself."

Benedict's brow softened as he gently places a hand on your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. "You're not causing any tension. I want this-us. I'm not going to let anyone, not even my mother, stand in the way of that. Besides," he smirked, a playful glint returning to his eyes, "if my mother sees how much you mean to me, she'll come around."

You wanted to believe him, but years of navigating high society had taught you to be cautious. People didn't always react as you expected them to. However, looking into Benedict's eyes, filled with a determination you'd rarely seen in him, you couldn't help but feel as flicker of hope. Maybe...just maybe, things could work out.

"When are we going to tell her?" you asked quietly, a tremor in your voice.

He took a deep breath, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Tomorrow. I'll as her for tea and explain everything. But you won't have to face her alone-I'll be right by your side." The thought of confronting Lady Violet was daunting, but knowing Benedict would be there with you, facing whatever came, brought a sense of calm you hadn't expected.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and for a moment, everything felt right. There were still uncertainties, still doubts, but for now, you allowed yourself to find comfort in the strength of his arms.

***

The next day came faster than you anticipated. Benedict had arranged for the tea with his mother, Violet, in the Bridgerton estate's drawing room, a place you had only visited once before under far less nerve-wracking circumstances. You could hardly sleep the night before, your mind playing out ever possible scenario, from her outright rejection to cautious acceptance. But now, there was no turning back.

Benedict stood beside you as you entered the room, his hand gently resting on your back as Lady Bridgerton looked up from her seat by the fire. She greeted you both with a warm smile, but there was an unmistakable glint of curiosity in her eyes, as though she had been anticipating this moment.

"My dear," she began, motioning for you to sit, "it's always a pleasure to see you. Though, I must say, Benedict has been quite mysterious about this tea. I take it there's something important you wish to tell me?"

You exchanged a glance with Benedict, your heart racing in your chest. He nodded reassuringly, and you took a deep breath.

"Lady Bridgerton, there is something we've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice more steady than you'd expected. "Benedict and I...we've been seeing each other for some time now. We...care deeply for each other."

Violet's eyes flickered from you to Benedict, her smile softening but not quite disappearing. She was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thick as you waited for her response. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, measured.

"I see," she said slowly, her eyes now firmly on Benedict. "And you've kept this from me for how long, exactly?"

Benedict shifted beside you, but he didn't flinch. "A few months. We didn't mean to keep it from you, Mother, but we wanted to make sure..."

"That this was real," Lady Violet finished for him, her gaze softening as she looked at the two of you. "I understand."

You blinked in surprise. Her calm reaction was not at all what you had expected. She placed her teacup down and looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"My dear," she said, turning her attention back to you, "I only have one request."

You nodded, your heart pounding again. "Anything."

"Make my son happy," she said simply. "That's all I ask."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized what she was saying. Lady Violet Bridgerton was giving her blessing.

Benedict beamed beside you, and as he took your hand in his, you knew that the hardest part was behind you. There would still be challenges, still whispers and judgement from society, but with Benedict by your side and his mother's approval, you felt ready to face whatever came next.

Just as you began to relax in the warmth of Lady Violet's approval, a small voice from the doorway caught your attention.

"I knew it!" chirped Hyacinth, Benedict's youngest sister, standing with her hands on her hips and a triumphant smirk on her face. She skipped into the room, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Benedict groaned, rubbing his temples. "Hyacinth..."

"You two were awful at hiding it, you know," she continued, completely ignoring her brother's exasperation. "I saw you sneaking out of the garden together last week, holding hands. And don't even get me started on that longing look at dinner last month!"

You exchanged a nervous glance with Benedict, but Violet chuckled softly. "Hyacinth, you've certainly inherited your siblings' knack for observation."

Hyacinth beamed proudly. "I should write to Lady Whistledown about it!" she teased, before darting off as quickly as she'd arrived, leaving both you and Benedict shaking your heads in disbelief.

"Remind me never to underestimate her again," you whispered, trying not to laugh.

Benedict sighed, pulling you close again. "Welcome to the family, love."

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxxii - big bird maybe

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

Having worked with Kijoong and experiencing the many emergencies Hongjooong involved you in, you had gotten Kijoong's night routine down to the T.

Sure, there were some setbacks like how Kijoong demanded that he wanted his daddy to tuck him in and you had to negotiate with him. No matter the headache the boy induced, you found yourself still falling for his absolute adorableness. Unfortunately, you see some of those attributes on his father (which you can never nor were you ever planning on telling him). So even when Kijoong (somehow) crawled on top of the kitchen counter as you got his PJs out, you still managed to kindly get him down and scold him yet again.

His damn pout was enough to melt your whole resolve. That and the way he cupped your face and patted your cheeks gently as he said he was not bad. Like his father, Kijoong tends to not really mean his apologies. While you can hear them both say sorry, they tend to say it as more of a courtesy as opposed to an actual admission of guilt. You had a working theory that they do so in hopes that when they do make an admission of guilt, people would appreciate them more.

"Okay, here we go buddy," you grunted slightly as you carried the giggling, wiggling boy down on his dad's bed. Though Kijoong has his own bed in his room, he still sleeps in his dad's bed at night. You adored the fact that they stuck so. Even when it was just the two of them, they try to make what they have an actual family. Sometimes you feel bad for the way people mock and poke at Hongjoong for being so dedicated to his job. For one thing, it wasn't his fault that he was good at his job and that he was a genius at what he does. With the talent that he has, of course people would want him to help them. Though he was on track to becoming an attending, he still had to jump through hoops to prove himself despite people's praises. Despite that, he still spend what spare time he had to ask about Kijoong. Heck, he'd video call him through you whenever he could. Just the other day, when Hongjoong was stuck fixing a botched spinal tap, he managed to have the nurse hold his phone as he sing Kijoong to sleep because he had promised Kijoong that he would. Maybe after a while, you found yourself liking this nanny job.

"Dad?" Kijoong asked after his giggles died down, trying to push the blanket off of him to tease you. His big eyes destroyed all possibilities of you being annoyed at him even when you had to tuck him in for the eight time. "Your daddy has an association event tonight," you said, sitting down next to him on the bed while tilting your head to the side and smiling down at him.

Kijoong liked it when you used big words on him. It made him feel like his dad who's a big professional who used words on a daily basis, it made him feel like he was taking a part in his dad's world.

With pursed lips, Kijoong looked between you and the door multiple times until you understood what he meant. "Oh ho ho, no, mister, you are not staying up tonight to see your daddy come back home," you scoffed, bracing yourself to anticipate if Kijoong decided he wanted to make a run for it. "Why not?" he huffed, frowning deeply which reminded of you that time Hongjoong saw you cooking while carrying Kijoong on your hips. "Because last time you stayed up to wait for your daddy I had to deal with you being cranky the next day and I do not enjoy working with pouty children," you teased him, poking him on the nose to accentuate your words which thankfully made Kijoong scrunch his nose and giggled instead.

Without needing to negotiate more (thankfully), you watched as Kijoong make himself comfortable before curling into your touch, letting drowsiness slowly take over him. You scooted closer and began stroking the boy's head, enjoying the rare time he was quiet and calm, looking like any other child on earth and not a child who has psychological and behavioural issues. At times like this, Kijoong looked like an angel.

"(y/n)," he called out softly, forcing you to snap from your little daydream, "Yeah buddy?" Kijoong peeked through his lashes up at you, "Are you gonna stay?" he asked, voice sounding like he was afraid. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "Of course, buddy. I'll be here until you fall asleep," you smiled, trying to comfort him only for him to shake his head. "No! Are you staying long?" he asked again, letting you know that he was asking whether or not you were staying with him for the long run.

That took you by surprise.

When you accepted the job offer from Hongjoong, you were always under the impression that your employment was momentary. He wasn't giving you much of an option and you still wanted to become a nurse. You had taken the job with the expectation that it was merely short-term but what you didn't expect was genuinely loving the boy who had found it in himself to trust you since the moment he met you.

Of course, you had yet to plan your exit what with not even having an exact timeline of your departure from Kijoong's life. You had always thought that you'd have more time.

But at that moment, being asked like that directly from him. something felt heavy in your chest.

Kijoong was growing more anxious about you not answering him. So he wrapped his fingers around your pinky and ring finger, "I'll be good, promise," he added.

Your heart broke slightly at him practically begging you to stay.

You couldn't help but swoop down and plant a soft peck on the top of his head and envelop him in a hug.

"I'll stay here until you don't need me anymore, okay? Until then, you just be yourself because I love you for who you are. Don't you even worry your little head," no matter how much you tried to hold it in, your emotion still spilt out and your voice cracked slightly.

Kijoong curled more into you and he even held your hand tighter. "Don't go like mommy," he said and you felt your breath hitched at the sudden mention of his mom.

It was always a mystery to you about what happened to his mom but you never wanted to pry especially since Hongjoong never really mentioned his mom to you. And based on what you heard, Kijoong wouldn't have been able to know much about his mom either. Even if he did, why would you ask such a question to a child?

A child who was clearly severely affected by the absence of his mother.

For now, even as a substitute, you allowed him to rest in your embrace. You allowed him to feel the embrace of a woman who cared for him for once.

Knowing what could happen in the future, it was the least you could do for him.

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[metalomagnetic]

I asked a question about your house elf lore a while back, are you still sitting on that one or did it not get to you? or maybe you don't want to answer it? sorry to bother you I just wanted to see if I should resend it or not

I'm sorry! I looked back through my inbox until I found your question.

Sometimes asks pile up and I lose track of them! I hope no one thinks I am ignoring them on purpose.

Now, with that out of the way, here is your initial question (I hope this is yours, at least):

I love the world building you did around house elves/goblins/the fey in "it runs" all the little tidbits that get dropped make me hungry for more. Can you possibly elucidate on the full story behind the fey vs wizard kind conflict? was the black family and astral magic actually instrumental in the war or is that just black propaganda? i'm not sure how reliable of a narrator a black family elf should be considered.

So, I picture the High Elves more like the elves from Lord of the Rings. As human societies started developing and advancing, the high elves diminished in numbers, losing forests and also they were very sensitive to materials humans started using, like iron and copper and such, that was slowly poisoning them.

I like to imagine they started fucking around with humans sometimes in ancient times. Muggles weren't too perceptive to what was going on, since the elves used magical trickery, but wizards took notice. At the time, wizards coexisted together with muggles in the Harry Potter universe.

There were attempts made to accommodate both species, treaties brokered and then broken, on both sides, until the first war started.

It ended with high casualties on all sides, and with no clear victor. New 'borders' were agreed upon, places for the elves to dwell into, where humans weren't allowed, and vice versa.

Of course, as centuries passed, and muggles especially developed more and more, their villages spreading into larger areas, their needs greater, cities being raised all around, things escalated again. It didn't help that most muggles either didn't believe in the existence of elves, either considered them plights/enemies sent by their gods. Muggles have shorter life spams, and shorter memory. Besides, education and written history wasn't easily available to muggles at large. Elves, on the other hand, have incredible life spans, and while wizards don't come close, they, too, live longer than muggles and they do 'see' magic, so wizards were always more aware of such things, as they are aware of werewolves and vampires etc.

In the second war, the Black family and other great wizarding families were already established powers around Europe, far more organised than their ancestors; by now wands were much more in use, which was a vast improvement from the past, allowing all magical people easier access to magic.

Because they had means of quick communication, unlike muggles, and because the elves were far lesser in numbers than they've been previously, the second Elvish war was mostly between wizards and elves, with very little muggle involvement.

The elves didn't think they could survive as a species in this new, polluted world, so this time there will be no end to the war.

They fought to extinction levels.

The Blacks and their use of astral magic were, indeed, a big part of the war ( in my backstory for this, it was a man named Helix Black the First that was in charge of the family back then). But other families were as instrumental as them. Many great houses perished in the war, and even the Blacks were decimated in numbers, losing nine direct family members, and many other distant relatives or in-laws.

As the war was drawing to a close, and wizards were emerging on the winning side, they started hunting down what remained of small clusters of elves still surviving in deep forests .

They found the elvish children, having been kept hidden during the war (elvish children age far slower than human ones).

Some wizards wanted them killed, to end this once and for all. Others weren't so keen on this plan. A great council was made to decide on their fates.

The side against the slaughter won, but everyone agreed it wasn't a good idea to just leave them be, risking another uprising in the future.

A witch of great power came up with the idea of cursing the elvish younglings, and forcing them into complete obedience. The curse affected the development of the elves, leaving them stunted, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

A Sacred Circle was made out of witches and wizards that gave their lives to power the curse. From England, twenty eight wizards and witches participated in the Circle, including a Black (And because of this, all the families that lost members to this curse, are now know as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that's not what they are in canon, and it was simply a list made by one Mr. Nott, but this is just my head canon to give more depth and history to the wizarding world).

As the curse was cast (I like to imagine it took like two days of casting to manage such a feat of magic) some of the older elvish children managed to escape their makeshift prisons. They sought refuge underground. The curse still reached them, but because of their age (say around 30 years olds, which was still child by elven metrics) they managed to resist at least the compulsions and they remain hidden underground. Their bodies naturally adapted to the environment. They eventually became goblins.

The younger children that didn't escape, including a twelve year old Tessuth, were fully affected by the curse. They never grew properly, their bodies shifted, too, the dark magic wrecking havoc on them. They were then enslaved to wizards. There weren't that many children, but the Sacred Families that fought hardest in the war, and that sacrificed their own to cast the curse, had priority in picking. Helix Black demanded two elves. Tessuth, and her even younger sister (who will eventually become Kreacher's grandmother). People just thought he's a greedy dick for wanting two.

In reality, Helix had deep trauma from the war, had developed a begrudging respect for the elves in the years spent fighting them, but he had also lost his twin children in one battle. When he went to take one elf, he found Tessuth cradling her younger sister, and on an impulse, with his twins in mind, he didn't want to separate them, so he took them both.

Unlike many other houses that took their anger for the losses they suffered on the now newly made house elves, Helix never could put aside the tragedy of it all. He saw the extinction of elves as necessary, he never regretted it, it was wizards (in fact, all humans, not just wizards) or elves, and he served proudly in the war, but the horror of it all stayed with him, and he treated Tessuth and her sister more as prisoners of war than slaves.

He killed himself when his only surviving grandson, who was Tessuth's age, reached adulthood, leaving him in charge of the family.

Eventually, a century or two later, when goblins resurfaced, no one wanted another war. Concessions were made, goblins were allowed to live in the wizarding world, but it was never an easy peace, and that, too, led to many goblin rebellions.

In one of life's ironies, in the last goblin rebellion, the Head of House Black was another Helix.

By that time, however, house-elves had been completely brainwashed into hating goblins. The very old house elves like Tessuth and Kreacher's grandmother, were not only brainwashed, but held resentment for being abandoned by their fellow elven siblings, during the first war, that they escaped without them. The newer generations of elves, completely unaware of this history, simply hated goblins because their masters told them so. House elf magic was used heavily in goblin rebellions, to guard wizarding homes, because goblins and house-elves obviously share the same type of magic.

A true tragedy, and the story of the High Elves, regal, powerful, arrogant, that died off to make way for humans.

Some of the magic in the world died with them, which also affected wizards, turning them weaker. Wizards of today will never be as powerful as the wizards that lived in the time of the High Elves.

There will be short mentions about this in the fic, just a sentence or two, as we already had, but not very much. It is of no importance to Sirius and his journey, and we already know he doesn't care much about house- elves, even if he is fully aware of their history. He doesn't spend time thinking of this, he just barely learned to get along with Kreacher and he's a little scared of Tessuth, so there is no reason to have much of this mentioned.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

( Titleless)

Pairing : Platonic Miguel O' Hara X Teen, Daughter, Symbiote Reader

Genre : Mostly fluff, canon level violence, tinge of angst

Summary : Hiding your symbiote from your father was pretty easy. Until it wasn't anymore

Requested/idea by: @graesage

Wordcount: 1.2k

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

You really shouldn't have messed around back in the day in Alchamex. While your father had been off and about his about multiverse research, you had slipped into the hallway and into a seperate room where you found a bunch of funny liquid looking vials.

There, you found Toxin. It had escaped from it's vial, and slipped under your skin. It was so quick, you thought it was okay. That nithing remoteable had happened, though you did have a funny feeling.

Until you had looked into the mirror that night, surprised to see someone completely different in there. Because it was still light outside, you had shaken your head, thinking it was just a funny trick of the light. It wasn't, and you fainted when you found out that it could speak.

When you woke again, you were on the couch. And you weren't alone. There was a new voice in your head, a new kind of power in your system.

Eventually, you got to test it out. And testing you did. Now you just had to hide it. You couldn't let your father know. Your father is spiderman after all, so hiding the symbiote was much more easier than expected.

He was always busy running the multiverse. And now, from time to time, you would join in to help. Your watch is concealed by Toxin's skinlike suit, which leaves people in question how you really enter different dimensions when you jump out of the same portal they do. Lyla was the one who had given you the watch, helping you keep it a secret.

For a good while, you manage to hide your identity quite well.

" What hapened?" You ask your father as he steps into his lab.

You were helping him do his job as you so often do, looking at his screens while he's out. You're munching on a bar of chocolate as he steps in.

He looks a little roughed up, which is expected after the rough fight with a Mysterio variant.

" That spiderwoman showed up again." He huffs, approaching the platform.

You hum.

" Is that bad?"

" Yes and no. She's helping out for some reason. But we can't manage to track her signal. Which is annoying. Also you should really lessen on the chocolate. You've been eating as much as an addict would the past few weeks." He points out, barely glancing at the treat in your hands, stepping onto the platform.

" I've always been addicted though. Besides, if this spiderwoman is helping, why is she an issue?" You point out.

He starts messing around with the screens.

" Not like the past few weeks, you haven't. I'm surprised you didn't gain weight. And because I don't know her intentions. A lot of villains were a friend before they turned sides." He points out.

" My chocolate addiction isn't that bad. But you're saying she's a spiderwoman. What's the harm? Maybe you should invite her on the team." You huff before shrugging.

" She's usually gone before I get as much as a chance to do so. And I'm not sure if she really is a spiderwoman. Her suit is just,, different."

-

It all comes down when a Clash variant escapes. You and Toxin were less prepared than expected, as Clash's powers involved high frequencies, including the ones you're sensitive to.

" You! You're no spiderman!" Clash calls to you, engulfed in Toxin's form.

Toxin cocks its head. " So what?" It asks before charging.

Clash fumbles around with his machine, before it releases a high pitched sound, which disturbs Toxin's form. And so the inevitable happens.

Toxin pulls back into it's liquid like, globby form, jumping away midair against its will. Meanwhile, you're now stuck falling towards the ground, with absolutely nothing to protect you.

From a distance, Miguel's eyes widen, and he reacts quickly. Setting off, he webs his way towards your plummeting form. He catches you barely a few metres from the ground, and you look up at him sheepishly while he glares down at you, obviously not happy.

" I can explain-"

He sets you down on the ground, glancing at your watch, the pieces falling in place in his mind.

" Go home. We'll talk later."

He turns around, readying himself back into the fight. You sigh. You don't want to stay on the side. Knowing arguing with him is useless, you turn, leaving in a random direction to find Toxin.

However, you're not paying attention, and your eyes widen as a piece of rubble comes right for you.

-

When you wake up again, you're in the med bay. You've been here to visit your friends when they're injured. It feels a little weird to be the injured one now.

You're not alone. You're missing Toxin's presence, but Jess is by your side.

" Hey." She smiles.

You try to smile too, even though it hurts. Everything hurts. The rubble got a good piece of you. Your entire body is hurting.

" I know you're in pain, sweetheart. Miguel's on his way, said he went to get something that might help." She tells you, setting a hand on top of yours.

You carefully nod, before closing your eyes to rest again. Jess stays with you, a comfortable silence settling over you.

Your mind is a bit of a mess. Toxin doesn't belong in the universe it's left behind in, which makes it an anomaly. You're worried for it's wellbeing. And you don't doubt that your father is mad at you. You just hope you can convince him to find Toxic, who can in turn heal you.

About twenty minutes pass before you hear the door open. And by the footsteps you can recognise it's your father.

" Hey. Can you leave us for a moment?  I need to talk to her." Miguel asks Jessica.

She sighs, but stands up nonetheless.

" Don't be too rough on her." She tells him, setting a hand on his shoulder before leaving.

The minute she closes the door behind her, you open your eyes.

" Dad, I-"

With a sigh, he sets a hand down on your own, and you're left surprised when a glob of red and blue forms and passes through his skin, and over yours, before settling itself into your skin.

Miguel watches with concealed amazement as Toxin's form devolps yours, your IV and whatever else was attached falling off as he speeds up your healing process. It only takes a moment, and soon enough he shrinks back into your skin, and you're feeling much. much better.

' I'm back.' Toxin's voice sounds through your mind.

" No shit." You whisper.

You stretch before turning to face your father.

" Does this mean I'm on the team?"

To your surprise, he nods. His hands placing themselves on his hips, signaling he has more to say.

" But we're going to set rules. I'm going to mentor you. And you'll need to listen to what I say, got it?" He tells you with a strict eyebrow up.

You smile as you nod enthusiastically.

" Yeah, of course!"

" And no more secrets, okay kid?"

" None. I promise!" You grin, engulfing him in a big hug.

He easily returns the embrace. a small smile making it's way onto his face.

[ A/N: If anyone knows a title feel free to share I do not lol. ]

[zinvy]

hi! if requests are still open: may i request a fic(headcanon) of what it would be like to be park yeonjin’s sister(you can make it a yandere fic if you would like too) mainly the high school yeonjin? thank you have a good day

having yeon-jin as your older sister headcannons

warnings : kinda yandere yeonjin, mentions of yeonjin's bullying

a/n : sorry this took so long nonnie :( wasn't sure whether you wanted yeon-jin to be the older or younger sister so I made her older as it fit more, I hope you like it !!

yeon-jin was so happy when you were born, she always wanted a baby sister and had hoped that you would be a girl

there's not that big of an age gap between you so you would often wear matching clothes growing up

as a kid it was because your mother made you but when you grew up you still did it simply because you liked too

you guys go shopping at least once a week

extremely overprotective

yeon-jin sees you as someone who could never do anything bad

because of this she gets extremely upset when people point out things you've done wrong (whether they're true or not)

yeon-jin confides in you a lot

both of you face high expectations from your parents, but yeon-jin tries to shield you from their demands

in high school, you and yeon-jin are the most popular girls in school

she loves to give you gifts and often gives you her old clothes that she thinks you'll look good in

yeon-jin is very involved in your romantic life

she judges your partners so harshly you wonder if there would ever be someone good enough for you in her eyes (there isn't)

she def uses the fear people have for her to help you get what you want

have a crush on someone? bullies their partner into leaving them

being bullied? will threaten, harass, and bully them into leaving you alone

denied from an after school club? one glare from her and the club leader changes their decision

she doesn't tell you about any of this of course and you grow to believe that you're just extremely lucky

she doesn't let you know about her bullying either

you're just as feared by your classmates as she is

not just because they know that yeon-jin will come for them if they upset you

but also because they're worried that you're just as sadistic as she is

you're always confused as to why people never meet your gaze

when you decide to go to college, yeon-jin decides to come too, even though she wasn't planning on going before

she's not that academically smart as she always used to make her victims do her work for her

so she has to pay her way in

you guys share a dorm and spend most days with each other

after college you go on to get the job you want & yeon-jin becomes a weather forecaster

she visits you at work a lot and calls you during her breaks

you're pretty close with sa-ra, she's the only one of yeon-jin's "friends" that she deems worthy of being friends with you, besides jae-jun but you never really got along with him as you always found him creepy 😭

you get along really well with do-yeong and ye-sol as well

you babysit ye-sol as much as you can, bringing her into work with you to show her what you do

when yeon-jin is arrested you're not entirely surprised

over the years you have noticed how she treats others, and how she's trying to teach ye-sol to treat others

despite this you're still heartbroken

yeon-jin has been your protector your whole life and you don't really know what to do now that she's gone

you move to the UK with ye-sol and do-young

unlike them though, you do visit yeon-jin every year

after awhile she convinces you to sneakily give ye-sol her letters

though she doesn't seem very bothered with them

with your sisters overprotectivness gone, you feel a sense of freedom

you make a lot more friends, most of whom yeon-jin would never approve of

you help raise ye-sol, living next to them

your sister misses you terribly, sending you letters asking to meet up

as the years go on you visit her less and less until eventually you're only seeing her once a year

[harleywarley18]

Goddess of love, fertility, and beauty ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I've decided to write about Apollo and Aphrodite, too. Since today is Friday, it's Aphrodite's turn!

She came to me right before one of the hardest points in my life. I mean, it was perfect timing. During this phase I felt so alone. The circumstances of the situation I found myself in were debilitating for me. I stopped eating and I was sleeping in my friend's room rather than my own. I let my school work slip; so much so that one of my professors asked if I was doing okay because the fact that I wasn't reflected in my recent work.

As an insomniac I found it even harder to sleep. I'd stay up until 4 in the morning with no luck. Then one night I begged Aphrodite for sleep. I was so tired, mentally and physically. That night, when I finally fell asleep, I found myself in a dream.

I was in a bed in a dark room. The sheets were made of pure silk. They gathered around myself and some other person in the bed with me. She was this beautiful woman with black hair. She was naked. She held me close to her breasts, caressing my hair, gently massaging my back. That night I had the best sleep of my life. I woke up knowing Aphrodite had been the woman from my dream.

For the next few weeks things would get better, then worse, then better again. Through it all I relied on my mother and the little friends I had left. Everyone else had left me, believing the lies that had been spread about me.

I only survived because of the love I had been shown. And I knew this was Aphrodite's doing. She was using my friends and family to protect me from myself, from my thoughts, from my fears. Even now, nearly two months and a half after everything happened, she still finds ways to provide me asylum. When the anxiety blooms in my chest, quickening my heart, I grab the rose quartz stone I dedicated to her and hold it to my heart. I rub it against my ribs. I hold it in my palms and drink in its power. The anxiety begins to ebb away into nothingness. Sometimes, the stone itself feels like a second heart, belonging to who, I'm not sure? Maybe it's mine or maybe it's Aphrodite's? Maybe she cut a piece of her own heart and gave it to me? What I hold in my hands could be the heart of a goddess born from seafoam.

Because of this, Aphrodite will always be so special to me. She foresaw what that situation would do to me and aptly appeared at my side. She used her love and the love of my friends as a shield from not only myself but other people involved. For this, I will always be indebted to her. For this, I will always worship her. For this, I will always think of her when I hug my mother, or my father offers me advice, or my sister hangs out with me to distract me, or my friends remind me that they love me.

I love you, Aphrodite, never forget that.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

May I request Dead x reader where they both just randomly stare at each other and play with each other’s hair/hands/face etc.

Soft touches

warning : fluff, kissing, no use of Y/n

masterlist

Info : Of course you can request such a thing I hope it's okay that it is not that long and you still like it. Have fun reading :)

Disclaimer : I don't want to gorify anything, it's about the actors who play a tole, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many things are possible in a relationship, such as dates, a movie night or choosing new furniture for the apartment. But in the case of the blonde's room in the worn house, it was a little different.

The singer of the metal band was working on a new cover and his girlfriend was sitting on the mattress and strumming her guitar.

But her eyes kept going back to the other one, they had been together for a while and they had done some crazy things together, but with the abdn elrbet those simple moments like she could do it.

She could see his eyes darting over the paper, his hair falling into his face as he tucked the strands that had fallen out behind his ear. The hands that closed around the pens made drawn lines and shapes on the paper. The small movements on his face.

And the thought matured in her mind that she wanted to touch him, of course they were holding hands, but that was something else.

She got up to sit with Dead on the desk in front of his picture. ,,What is it?" he asked, mumbling and looking up slightly at her, disturbed by the picture.

,,Wanted to touch you," she replied almost dryly that the blonde wasn't quite sure what she meant until she gently ran her fingers over his face.

She saw how irritated he was at first until she smiled as he reached out his hand almost curiously and began to braid something in her hair that he was really good at.

,,Just like that?" he asked and raised an eyebrow, which she replied with a nod, ,,Well, I thought maybe it would help against stress or something, but it's pretty cute".

The two of them got involved with each other and she found that it was actually somewhat pleasant as his fingers ran over her almost like a massage, caressing her skin.

The tension receded and she vaguely remembered a quote about how people needed physical contact in order not to become entangled and hugs could even save lives, but it seemed to work.

,,Sweet only you're sweeter than death," Dead grinned and moved closer to her, running his fingers down her cheek before giving her a soft kiss. The nervousness they both had from trying so hard to create a new album cover evaporated, their cramped fingers relieved.

,,Maybe we should do this more often…especially when I get a kiss," she emoted, letting out a free laugh as her boyfriend took her in his arms and gave her more kisses. Oh yes, they should definitely do that more often.

~~~~~~~~~~~~