unlikelybreadwhispers

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

I love this headcanon! "Demonshead!damian" is so good!

Hiiiii! I absolutetly looove your writing, ita just so enchanting. Anywho, may I ask for Demons Head!Damian headcannons, or maybe a fic😙😙👌🏽

Hi! Thank you for your kind words anon dearie! Sorry this took so long... I write this with these fanarts in mind ☺ so I couldn't write this seriously without blushing even when I was thinking nothing 🤦 then this got away my hands and evil, evil, evil.

🗡️ Powerful, sexy, bad vibe check, that beautiful skin color that invites to be kissed and licked and... How can you say no to that skin and eyes combo?

🗡️ A proud king from a romance 18 rated novel walking in the 21st century... or one of these damn hot single daddies from this writer loved isekais ♡ One look from his eyes is already a saber in itself.

🗡 He walks in the Earth as if he possessed it, and although the rest of the citizens are not aware, it could be said that he does, after all the shadows of the League are spreading to every corner of the world.

🗡 LoA!Damian doesn't want to be sitting in the front row ruling the world, but that doesn't mean he doesn't in fact do it with all the people he kills or manipulates at his pleasure.

🗡️ Even without age difference, you would end up being his sugar baby because you're the star of his sistem. And the man has more moons and rings than Saturn and Jupiter together.

🗡️ Even without meeting each other "properly" you would find yourself being wooed with gifts of quality that makes you think that you are going to break the Declaration of Independence as luxuried they are and totally within your tastes (chillingly within your tastes). The only thing that keeps him from looking ToTaLLy like he's courting you the old-fashioned way is that the opinion of others but you doesn't care to him.

🗡️ If due to his position he couldn't be the one who stalked you or put cameras in your life, who did it, had that likely as their last mission (and their eyes gouged out of courtesy, if were good may be got offered seppukku)

🗡 Everyone in the League knows that they're not worthing to look at your beautiful eyes (and they must take care of how they see your body, poor stressed assassins) and that if they're ordered to take care of you and you come out with a scratch, they better kill themselves rather than inform him because thats a sentence to be tortured first and killed second.

🗡 I firmly believe that a fully trained Demon! Damian can only be defined as the Perfect Hunter, a feline one. Did you know that there are tigers in both Africa and Asia? In the end, even having been raised to succeed and lead Damian is just that, a lonely and lethal hunter. A weird desirable breed, a black one 🐈‍⬛. You will be watched for up to one year and persecuted for another if neccessary. Ra's has teached him good things take time to achieve.

🗡 At your firsts interactions he will subtly adapt his image to what makes you feel more secure. But you will go with him, the truest him he could get show you, voluntarily, willingly at the end. And you wont even notice how he's lowering his mask and actually making you adapt and accept him. He glides smoothly, invading everything without you noticing.

🗡 I don't compare him to a cat just for being a hunter. He's the type to rub or stick to you to remind you of who you are and demand your attention and warmth at totally random moments... and no matter who's watching. After all, what is the point of having the best jewelry or trinkets in the world if you don't show up or play with them at your like?

🗡️ If Damian has chosen you as his bride/groom, as his beloved, as his companion, his other self, and he has already obtained the position of DemonHead, there is no human, alien, demon or machine, anything on earth or its surroundings that's going to take you away from him. Not even his family. After all, they specifically trained him to take and keep. Sorry people but yes, the Al Ghul raised Hufflepuffs firsts, then Slytherins. Slytherpuff if you want, only look at his trademark colors. He's a keeper and you will no live to hear any noise ♡

🗡️ And remember, he has, not only money and material and human resources, but the Lazarus Pits on his side, neither time nor death is going to keep you both away, beloved.

🗡️ Personally, there are days that I think the world would be better off with 70% less of its population -vaccines and masks damnit u.u- and I have to watch faith-in-humanity videos or I in twisted days I would support the ideals of Ra's so I think a properly raised Damian could manipulate his beloved into their beliefs.

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

DJISNSID THIS FIC IS AMAZING!!!! The way that you describe the things is just- perfect!!! I love the part: "The lights went down and dancers started appearing on stage. Live music filled the theatre, and all your worries suddenly went away. Just as it happened to you when observing the statue at the museum, you found yourself hypnotized by the graciousness of the ballerinas. Their gowns were filled with intertwined jewels which made them glow and shine with every jump and turn. A few tears escaped your eyes throughout the representation, and that was not a detail that escaped Bruces' attention, which had been focused on you since the two of you had sat down." OMG IDK WHAT YOU DID IN THIS PART BUT YOU WON MY HEART!!! The words touched something inside me that I didn't even know it was there. I don't have enough words to compliment this fic. All I'll say is that if I could read one last thing in life, it would be this.

Eros and Psique (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Bruce Wayne meets Y/N at the museum and they see the exhibit and then date seriously going to galas and operas/ballets or something like that - proud that she is his girlfriend - what do you think of that??

Sure thing! This idea is so cute and wholesome. Lord, I'm in love with this man... I hope you like it! <3

Request by the lovely @christianbalefanatic ^^

People often talk about stepping out of your comfort zone, pushing one to the limit, widening your horizons. For you, however, the comfort zone was not much about a state of mind but rather about a place. Specifically, Gotham's Metropolitan Museum of Art. Paintings, sculptures, its huge galleries and corridors, most of the time empty or filled with students and old people enjoying a relaxed evening. For you, it was pretty much the same. After a long week of hard work, you had decided to release some tension and visit your favourite gallery, the one with the classical pieces. Greek-sculptured marble filled the huge room, cold and minimalistic, yet imposing and comforting for you. The anthropomorphic figures dancing in circles, telling stories, accompanying you in your uneasiness. You walked into the gallery, straight towards your favourite sculpture of all: Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, by Canova.

The two figures intertwined together never failed to give you goosebumps, hoping to experience a love like that of Cupid and Psyche, the tender touch of a lover's arms, catching you whenever you fell. You were so immersed in the statue that you didn't notice a pair of dark eyes on you. A tall gentleman approached you, his broad frame covered by a neat suit and his hair pulled back. Politely, he asked you about the sculpture and you couldn't help but ramble on the work of art for a solid twenty minutes.

'Oh... I'm sorry, I must be boring you, sir...'

'Please, continue. I find your passion for this work fascinating' he said, his voice deep 'And there's no need to call me sir, doll. I'm Bruce'

Heat rose to your face, and after discussing a bit more about Canova's art, the man asked you to dinner. Unaware of who he was, you enjoyed a reservation at one of the most prestigious restaurants in Gotham, a princess fantasy that lasted for a single night since you had forgotten to give him his number. A week later, however, you received a call from an unknown digit, and Bruce asked you for another date. Time passed like that, with occasional dinners, walks around the city at night and even bouquets of your favourite flowers waiting for you on your desk every now and then.

It was when Bruce asked you out formally that he started showing you around. He would gift you jewels, dresses and bags, showering you with compliments. For him, you were the most gorgeous woman in Gotham, and it was time the city saw you with your arm intertwined with his. For that reason, Bruce invited you to your first gala. It was actually a crowdfunding event composed of a benefic ballet after which there was a dinner in one of his restaurants. At first, when he had asked you to go with him, your stomach dropped. That atmosphere was something you had never experienced, completely out of your comfort zone. However, he had reassured you that it would be fine, that he would be with you the entire time, and he made you forget your anxiety with a tender kiss, holding you in his strong arms.

The night of the gala came and your knees kept trembling as you put on one of the most astonishing and expensive-looking dresses you had ever encountered. As soon as Bruce entered the room and saw you on it, the zipper still down, he thought of getting down to one knee in that very second. His thoughts, nonetheless, were interrupted by your angelical voice asking him to help you with the last touch. His hands shook a little, despite having touched every inch of your skin, and you turned around, anxiety in your expression.

'You look ravishing. It's gonna be alright. I'll be there, with you'

He held your hand and caressed it with his thumb, just the same way he did once you arrived at the gala. He helped you out of the car and guided you towards the entrance of the huge theatre. After several introductions, a man in a suit directed you both to the box you were going to see the ballet from. Your palms were sweaty against your dress, and you were thankful when Bruce offered you a seat. His presence beside you, however, was comforting, and the privacy of the box was quite relaxing.

The lights went down and dancers started appearing on stage. Live music filled the theatre, and all your worries suddenly went away. Just as it happened to you when observing the statue at the museum, you found yourself hypnotized by the graciousness of the ballerinas. Their gowns were filled with intertwined jewels which made them glow and shine with every jump and turn. A few tears escaped your eyes throughout the representation, and that was not a detail that escaped Bruces' attention, which had been focused on you since the two of you had sat down. Moved by your passion, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it, offering you a cloth tissue to wipe your eyes. He felt more and more drawn to you as the night went on, but it was during dinner that he felt the proudest about being your partner.

You had been sat with some ambassadors and investors of one of Bruce's companies. You had been introduced to all of them and their wives, but there was one old-looking man who was a widower. He sat right next to you and attempted to conversate with you. Bruce was worried he would treat you poorly or discriminate against you for not being a commoner in that environment, but he found himself completely open-mouthed at the way you handled the situation. As soon as the man kindly asked you what you thought about the ballet, you started to go on again, just like the time you met Bruce. As it happened with the millionaire, the investor fell in love with your enthusiasm for art, and since he was a collector himself, you two kept talking and talking until he claimed that it was one of the most entertaining galas he had attended for a long time. Prouder than ever, Bruce leaned back on his chair and looked at you, admiring every feature of your appearance. Your shiny and excited eyes, the way you gestured when talking about the ballerinas' performance, and even the way your lips curved every time the old man made a point.

The hero found himself falling in love with you once again, your shape, your smell, your kind attitude. Everything was perfect for him, and when you turned towards him, making eye contact, he gifted you with the warmest smile you had ever seen on his face. He was rejoicing about you, and before he forgot, he called Alfred with a gesture.

'Book me an appointment at Tiffany & Co. for tomorrow'

'As you wish, sir' said the butler 'And if you allow me, I think it's the best decision'

Yeah, he thought as you laughed with the investor, the sound music to his ears, it definitely is.

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

Omgg this was sooooo goood! Djsisksisiksis By the way, you made me laugh so much that now everybody in the food court is looking at me

“intruder alert” - batboys & reader

synopsis: “Living together with your husband offered a certain peace in life. A certain peace that is shattered by the comings and goings of your eccentric in-laws.”

(The five times Dick's family broke into your house and the one time they were invited over.)

tags: shenanigans & hijinks, batfamily, breaking & entering, dick is your husband, in-laws are absolutely bonkers but we love them anyway.

read it on AO3!

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

What a incredible plot twist! Excited to next chapter!

The Lake House - Chapter 2

Relationship: Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader

Series Summary: You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: No beta reader for this one, but hopefully I’ll have one for chapter 3. ​

Series Warnings: TOTALY NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI, implied non-con/dub-con, age gap, sexism, implied kidnapping, murder, violence, smut, loss of virginity, obsessive behavior, voyeurism, stalking, fluff, minor and major character deaths, unprotected sex, m/f sex, oral sex (both male and female receiving), fingering (female receiving), mentions of blood

This is dark and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Chapter 1

Continuar lendo

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

SO ADORABLE!! I AM DYING OF SO MUCH CUTENESS! I am happy that sy and reader got a happy ending! :)

Surprise Guest

Syverson x Fem!Reader

vignette: Y/N just couldn't leave Texas without seeing Sy one last time.

words: 2,300+

a/n: thank you @just-chirpin for basically being my interior design assistant. lol.

masterlist

Y/N pulled up to the giant farmhouse and all her bravery fled from her body and mind.

She threw the rental car in park, but her hands still gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles lost their color.

Aika was sitting on the front pork.

She barked at Y/N’s car, clearly on high alert.

To the dog, she was just another intruder.

“What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?” Y/N whispered to herself as her eyes raced around the giant property.

A inner voice finally spoke to her, ‘Don’t be a fucking coward.’

And with that, she threw the car door open and stepped on the driveway.

As soon as Aika spotted Y/N and caught her scent, the barking stopped and the dog sprinted to her old friend.

Y/N laughed as the German Shephard almost tackled her to the ground.

“Hi. Hi. Yes. Hello. I’ve missed you, too.” Y/N kneeled down to appease the dog.

And Aika took that as an invitation to give her endless kisses.

Y/N laughed as she tried to lightly push her away. “OK. OK. OK.”

Then she looked up at the front door of the house, and was surprised that all of Aika’s barking hadn’t alerted Syveron and brought him to the porch.

Y/N stood up and looked around.

“Where’s your dad at? Huh?” She asked the dog.

Aika turned her head to the side.

But she seemed to immediately understand, because she barked and started running in the direction of the barn.

When Y/N didn’t start to follow, Aika barked at her, ran back, circled around Y/N, and then headed back toward the barn again.

Y/N laughed and followed after the dog, who would pause and make sure she was following every few yards.

When they were just a few yards away from the entrance of the barn, Aika started barking nonstop.

“Goddamnit, Aika! I swear… if you have another dead squirrel in tha’ damn mouth of yours…” Syverson growled from somewhere inside that Y/N couldn’t see.

The next second, he begrudgingly came charging outside of the barn.

But Syverson stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Y/N.

However, he recovered quickly and controlled any reaction to her presence. And he started walking slower towards them.

“Thought you’d be back in New York by now…” Syverson muttered as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Y/N shrugged. “My flight’s not until until tomorrow afternoon.”

Sy nodded as he crossed his arms.

“Didn’t mean to bother you,” Y/N shifted nervously. “Layla mentioned something about the reno finally being finished,” she thumbed behind her at the house. “Just thought…I don’t know…that I could see it.”

Sy watched her for a moment, reading the situation.

They both knew the house wasn’t really what she was here to see.

He gave her a half smirk. “You ain’t ever botherin’ me, darlin’.”

“You’re working though. Clearly.” Y/N started walking backwards. “I shouldn’t have just shown up like this.”

“Y/N,” Sy said her name so firmly that it froze her in place.

There was that military authority. It revealed itself so rarely.

Syverson walked closer to her. “Relax," he requested.

Y/N’s shoulders did as he commanded, even if for just a few seconds.

Sy looked her up and down.

Y/N’s face felt hot as she realized she was wearing an oversized flannel that she’d stolen from Syverson. She had worn it so much since leaving that she had started to forget that it originally belonged to him.

Sadly, it had lost his scent not long after moving back to NYC.

“You look mighty cute,” Sy said with a smirk, knowing that she was embarrassed to be wearing his clothing in front of her by complete accident.

She scoffed, “Oh, shut it. You going to show me your house or not?”

Sy chuckled and nodded. “Well, come on then. Ain’t got all day.”

But when it came to Y/N, he did have all day.

Sy brought them back around the front to start with the main entry way.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she saw the first of the renovations.

Layla truly had a gift. She'd clearly respected the history of the home and all the details that could never be truly recreated in a modern home. The woodwork was raw, but absolutely beautiful.

And the colors they chose only brightened the once dark home.

There were knickknacks around that clearly had been in the family for decades, and Layla knew exactly how to stage them.

“Pops claims his great grandpa made this miniature ship,” Sy pointed out. “It was hidin’ in the attic, collectin’ dust. Layla just about lost her damn mind when she found it.”

Next, he took her into the living room. It was even brighter – thanks to all the windows – and welcoming.

The fireplace was beautiful, but Y/N’s northern self was struggling to think of a time when Texas was ever cold enough to light a fire.

The room surprisingly didn’t feel like only a man lived there, especially with all the candles and accent pieces through the giant room. Sy also managed to still fit in a giant couch for him to spread out on, and still keeping enough room for plenty of guests to fit, too.

“You light all these candles every night?” Y/N teased him.

But it was clear none of the wicks had even been touched yet.

“Think you know the answer to that,” he replied with his arms crossed.

Sy then brought her to a small library. It had been covered up every time she visited, making her oblivious to its very existence.

Y/N had never seen actually Sy read before. But he also always woke up before her, and she could somehow perfectly imagine him reading the newspaper or something with his morning coffee – all while she was still fast asleep.

The library was darker than the rest of the home, but very cozy – just like libraries should be.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from imagining sitting on the velvet couch with a favorite book. Maybe even Aika would be sleeping at her feet.

She started walking through the room, her index finger tracing across the shelves of the bookcase. No dust in sight.

Sy leaned in the doorway, watching her with his arms crossed.

“Reading anything good?” She asked, fully expecting him to tell her no.

Before Syverson could answer, Y/N noticed a book on the coffee table near the sofa. And from the way it was placed, she could tell it was currently being read, and not just there for display. There was an even a bookmark placed 3/4 of the way through.

Y/N swore her heart had leapt into her throat as she read the cover: Men Who Hate Women.

It was the book she was reading the day they met.

Sy had caught her noticing it too, immediately seeing the shift in her body.

Y/N looked up at him, waiting for an answer to a question she never actually asked.

“Thought I give it a read,” was all he said with a shrug.

If Sy was embarrassed from getting caught, he did a good job of hiding it.

“And are you liking it?” Y/N tried to sound casual and only half interested.

A sound escaped his throat, close enough to be called a growl. “Makes me wanna punch a bunch a men, that’s for damn sure.”

Y/N giggled. “I appreciate you giving it a shot.”

Sy didn’t know how to handle the way she was looking at him, so he chose to avoid it.

"Come on,” he nudged behind him. “Let me show you the kitchen.”

The kitchen looked exactly like the plans Layla had showed Y/N when she had been started to brainstorm ideas for the redesigning Syverson’s whole house.

He looked around the room as if inspecting it.

“I always think ‘bout what you said,” Sy hummed.

Y/N tilted her head. “What I said?”

He nodded. “About kitchens.”

Y/N's body stilled for a moment when she realized what he was talking about.

He remembered that?

They had only looked at the first floor. But somehow the enthusiasm for the tour had suddenly subsided for both of them.

And therefore, they could no longer hide behind the distraction.

Sy saw Y/N’s nervousness slowly seep out.

“I talked to my mom this morning,” she mumbled.

But her eyes couldn’t look at him, only staring at the floor.

“Mhmm,” Syverson hummed casually, even though he knew exactly what she must have told her daughter.

“Said you told her that you love me.”

“I did,” he confirmed.

The quick honesty made Y/N’s gaze shoot up from the floor to meet his.

But Syverson didn’t back down. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” she exhaled. Even the single word was shaky. “It actually makes all of this less uncomfortable when I tell you…”

Sy took a step closer, getting into her space. “Tell me what?”

Y/N swallowed, buying herself some time to find the courage.

Then she looked into his blue eyes. “When I tell you that I love you, too.”

Without missing a beat, Sy responded by crashing his lips onto hers.

Y/N lightly moaned into the kiss, not expecting such a reaction from him. In fact, she had half expected him to tell her to get out and leave him alone for good.

Their closeness was somehow not close enough for Sy.

And he backed her up until her butt hit the kitchen counter. With hardly any effort, Sy gripped her waist and lifted Y/N, placing her on top of it.

Y/N made her intentions clear and started undoing Sy’s belt buckle.

She froze when he suddenly held her wrist in place, preventing her from ripping the piece of leather out of the loops of his jeans.

She looked up at him in fear, thinking Sy was about to reject her and it was just delayed response to the wild situation.

But Syverson smirked at her before saying, “You still ain’t even seen the master bedroom, darlin’.”

She gave him a relieved smile.

But wasn’t expecting Syverson to throw her over his shoulder.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

And the sound brought something out of him: Joy? Playfulness? The first wave of relief he’d felt since she’d left?

Sy smacked her bottom.

“Ethan Syverson!” She scolded.

And just like, they were back to how they used to be and it was like no time had passed.

——

Y/N traced the shadows underneath Syverson's eyes.

Was he having trouble sleeping?

When she had been in Texas, it seemed like Syverson was able to operate on four hours of sleep and still be perfectly fine.

So, he must really be struggling if his body was started to show signs of exhaustion.

“I think you need some sleep,” Y/N pointed out gently.

“Don’t wanna,” he sighed.

“Why not?”

Sy looked at her for a moment before admitting, “‘Cause I ain’t about to give ya the chance to sneak off.”

That was fair, but it still hurt.

“Well, I’m not going to do that,” she promised.

But Sy didn’t seem fully convinced.

So he simply pulled her body closer.

And Y/N rest her head on his bare chest.

Sy was already a space heater, but when they were both naked, he felt even warmer.

They settled in quietness. Both of them were now tiptoeing around each other in a post-sex haze, scared to ruin the glow of it all.

“Why do you have an office?” Y/N suddenly asked him. “I didn’t think you’d need one…”

When Sy had thrown her over his shoulder, she had caught a glimpse of it at the top of the stairs. She swore before the renovations it had been another guest bedroom. But it seemed to be set up as an office space now.

Sy's breathing got quiet at the question, and Y/N felt his body tense.

She didn’t think it was a controversial question. She had just been curious.

But his reaction made her sit up to look at him.

It was hard imagining him needing one. All of his work was hands on and physical.

In fact, Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever even seen Sy even write before or sit in front of a laptop. Did he even have a computer?

“I didn’t have a lot of thoughts on the house. I damn well drove Layla crazy,” Syverson muttered, his eyes staring out at nothing.

He took in a deep breath. “When all of it was finally done, you were gone. An’ one night, I just looked around at everythin’.”

Y/N watched him hesitate. What was he trying to figure out if he should say or not?

“And I realized I was–” He cleared his throat and scratched his beard. “Guess I was jus’ imaginin’ you here.”

Syverson finally met her gaze. “The office was for you, I guess.”

Y/N’s heart felt like it dropped to her stomach as she processed what he was telling her.

Sy hadn’t been building his home. He had been building their home.

And he hadn’t even realized it.

“We can’t leave each other again,” Y/N whispered, surprising herself with how it just escaped her without even thinking.

She buried her face into his neck, hiding from her confession.

Sy calmed her by weaving his fingers in her hair and massaging the back of her neck along with his combing.

“WelI, it’s good we agree," he muttered softly. "‘Cause I wasn’t plannin’ on lettin’ ya go another time.”

She pulled back to look at him. “Really?”

This woman… Sy thought. When would she stop being surprised that’d he do just about anything for her?

He nodded.

“It’s just…" She frowned. "I’m not ready to leave New York. Not yet.”

“I never told ya that ya had to give it up,” he clarified.

Y/N just nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Damn right I’m sure.”

She gave Sy a shy smile.

But Y/N seemed to be slowly shrinking into her own mind, getting drawn in my her chaotic thoughts and struggling to stay with him in the present.

“Darlin’?” He asked gently as he cupped her cheek.

“Hmm?” She sounded distant even though they were basically on top of each other, still naked.

“We’re gon’ figure it out, alright? And we don’t gotta solve it this instant. But we will. I promise ya.”

A closed smile slowly formed on her lips.

“Alright?” Sy urged.

She nodded. “Alright.”

––––––––

Let me know if you liked it. Also open to writing more vignettes – even if they take place before this certain one.

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

FACTS!!

I hope dc is aware that the best live action project they've announced in the past 20 or so years wasn't even affiliated with them and it still would have ate them up with a fraction of the budget that they put into their mediocre movies and shows

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

WHYYY

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

SOOOO ADORABLE! I am dying! So cute!

Jason Todd Dating a Brazilian Fem! Reader - Pt. 3 [Final]

Warnings: Just cursing, Damian being a brat and mentions of violence/sex (nothing at all). Pairing: Fem! Brazilian Reader x Jason Todd. Word Count: 441. A/N: I'm alive!

Good Reading!

Jason Todd Masterlist Masterlist REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2

I start by saying: Damian Wayne doesn't trust people easily… but you are the exception.

don't get me wrong, he still checked your entire life and made deadly threats about how you should stay away from this family (just blah blah blah no one really cares) but since this ox likes you, goodbye to your privacy with Jason ;

imagine him showing up for a couple of nights just to sleep in his bed since hey, he didn't have that many good female figures except Cass;

possibly has you as a mother figure and deny you to death if anyone asks about it;

in lowkey he would kill half the world for his Ummi;

anyway, then you ask me how Jason is handling it… the answer is: He. Is. Not.

he insists on asking Roy for help to put the best security system entirely in Portuguese so that only the two of them, you and Alfred have access;

“Todd, you know this is unnecessary as Y/N clearly loves me more. You are irrelevant, leave."

"But you son of a bitch-"

"JASON!"

*wink*

"I'm NOT sorry, princess!"

you will have to separate them sometimes, or the fights can get physical;

even though Jay and Dami fight a lot, they have a secret agreement about putting everything aside for your safety and know they can only count on each other for it…maybe Alfred;

now there was a time when Damian dreamed of something awful and literally couldn't control his breathing and crying, and you were the only one who managed to calm him down;

he trusts you a lot;

after that you will only be able to sleep after a call with your Ummi;

movie night every Wednesday is a tradition and not even Bruce will be able to get him out of his apartment;

Talia only once tried to disrupt Damian's life with you around…

let's say he didn't know about you being so good at cursing and hitting someone;

she doesn't either...

"Don't mess with my peanuts, murderous bitch, I don't have cockroach blood and I'm definitely not going to watch you bother him without at least kicking his ass out of here!"

this security camera video earned a month of laughs from the younger boy and his boyfriend;

he's the biggest supporter of your dating Jason, even if he denies it;

“I think you'd better put a Y/N ring, Todd. Don't fuck with the one person who makes your life less insignificant, at least once you've chosen something correctly."

"Was that a devil brat compliment?!"

“Hmpf” *dramatic output*

Dames would give the world for you, take care of him please!!!

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

I love it! Excited to the next chapter!

Hopeless place - Chapter 1

Hey guys! So I have been watching Squid Game and Battle Royal recently so have taken HEAVY inspiration from there - with mob!steve and mob!bucky thrown in ;) Hope you enjoy! :D Bunny x

Summary: You were struggling to make ends meat in the big city. Unfortunately some of the rich and powerful preyed on poor things like you. Soon enough you find yourself in a sick game that can lead to your death. Luckily, you have caught the eye of infamous mobsters Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Will they save you?

Word count: 1272

Pairings: mob!steve x reader, mob!bucky x reader

Warnings: Mention of eating disorder, drugged and kidnapped, language.

Continuar lendo

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

THIS IS SO ADORABLE! I AM DYINGGGG! I AM SO HAPPY YOU ARE BACK!

“She’ll always be our mom” - Batfam x Reader

Synopsis : Damian is terrified of growing up, because he finally found a family and doesn’t want them to be around him less because he grows older…He’s especially scared that his mom, you, will slowly stop taking care of him. Because that’s what growing up is right ? Your parents just slowly stop taking care of you because you’re an adult. His siblings reassure him that…this is definitely not gonna happen.

Sudden burst of inspiration, had to jump on the occasion to write ! Like y’all, I hadn’t been able to sit down and write for that long in over six months, the fact I wrote this in an hour without stopping once is a good sign for me hehe. I hope you’ll like this, and of course as always feedbacks and reblogs are super welcomed !! :

My Masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

“Hey buddy, I have some important meetings today and won’t be there for lunch. Your dad too. I left some food for you, see you tonight, love ya.”

Are the simple sentences that set Damian off.

Alfred had his day off (and Damian couldn’t feel bad about that, the butler rarely took days off and when he did they were planned well in advance and he’d usually prepare everything for everyone). You and Bruce were busy. And his siblings were out and about. Damian could definitely reheat food for himself. It wasn’t really a challenge. It’s just that…

That him alone in the manor, it reminded him of bad days from the past, when he always had to fend off for himself.

He felt absolutely ridiculous feeling that way, because that was the first time since he came into your life that he actually was home alone. But he couldn’t help it. He’d gotten used to always having someone around. And he hated being alone.

At first, he always sought to be on his own. It was all he ever knew. And he thought that’s how life was. He spend hours on end all alone in his room, when he wasn’t in the Batcave. Up until…

Up until you sought him out. Whether it was to watch a movie, bake some cookies or just be silly. And if it wasn’t you, it was one of his siblings. He thought you were all so annoying, in the beginning. He always sighted, growled and got snappy with you all when you came look for him at first. But then…

Then he realized that, when you finally started to leave him alone thinking he just liked to be on his own…He felt lonely.

Actually lonely.

And it always brought an onslaught of bad memories, when he felt that way. So today ? Yeah. To him it was silly to have those emotions, but he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t used to be alone anymore.

Continuar lendo

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

I love it! It's so adorable!

Syverson vs Your Period

Syverson x reader on period: 

TW: reader who suffers from fagitute, depression due to the hormonal change, migraines, cold sweats and panic attacks

Masterlist

Is a long one so put it under a cut

“So here is what’s gonna happen. My baby girl needs me so I will go to her and you lot will fuck off and not disturb me. Got it?” - Syverson probably

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[unlikelybreadwhispers]

this is so cute i am dying

These Hands Are For You

Paring: Bucky x Fem Reader (parents to be)

Prompt: Raking Leaves

Summary: The raking of leaves, muffins, and baby kicks on a fall afternoon. A very warm and fuzzy domestic piece filled with lots of love.

Word Count: 1.2 k

A/N: Written for the HBC's Festive Fall (@the-ss-horniest-book-club) because I happened to come across their page. This is a little late, but I still wanted to write a something inspired by a prompt of theirs. I love fall... 🥺

The afternoon air was crisp, and filled with distant sounds of laughter and the tinkering bicycle bells. Though the sun shone overhead, its warmth failed to hold the same intensity of a summer’s day. As you walked out further onto the wooden porch, your arms were crossed over your chest to keep your cardigan secured around your body upon leaving the toasty comfort of the house. Your lips curled into a smile at the sight of Bucky moving across the yard, raking a final spread of leaves into a neat pile. Unlike before, the green tendrils of grass were visible as they reached for the sky. Which meant that you’d be able to see dew droplets in the mornings again.

For a moment, he paused to roll his shoulders backwards. Due to him facing another way, he still hadn’t noticed you admiring him. Clinging to his body was the green flannel you bought him as soon as hints of fall had begun showing themselves. As classic as a staple it was, it had been quite some time since you’d seen him in one. The dark wash jeans he’d paired it with almost looked black, and were cuffed at his brown boots—a handsome look. Especially considering that his chestnut hair had reached the point just past his ears. He’d brought up the idea of cutting it a month prior, but all it took was running your fingers through it and whispering please don’t against his lips for him to forget he ever uttered such words.

When you started heading down the porch steps, one hand supporting the underside of your belly, his eyes finally met yours with a sparkle of interest. As you made your way to him, the quiet crunch of the plush grass sounded from beneath your slipper-clad feet.

The first words he spoke drew a sweet laugh out of you, "Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” He leaned onto the rake and took you in. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Listen,” you ran an instinctive hand over the curve of your stomach. “I don't doubt your intelligence, but you’re not a doctor. ”

Bucky chuckled and gave your forehead a quick kiss. “Maybe not. But I was the one who massaged those aching muscles of yours last night when you were whimpering like a puppy about them. And what did we conclude, hmm? That you’d overworked yourself.”

His blue eyes caught the light of the sun as you fought a guilty smile. “I wasn’t whimpering.” He gave you a look, and a harmless smirk pulled at his lips. “Okay, maybe I was a little. But only because I was tired and really wanted you to,” you said. “I promise I’m all rested now. And baby boy is happy too. He’s been moving around a whole bunch.”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s eyes drifted to your stomach.

A boy whirring by on a bike made your attention divert from Bucky for a split second. One day, the two of you would be teaching your son how to ride one on the same streets. The streets that were worn slightly from travel and lined with beautiful Sycamores. It had been the neighborhood that stole your hearts right alongside the white farmhouse-style house you were blessed to call yours. Upon turning back to Bucky, he wore a knowing expression that made gratefulness and anticipation stir within you all the more. You took a step closer and wrapped an arm around his waist to give him a gentle squeeze. Life with him became both real and more like a dream with each passing day.

Then you remembered the reason you’d come out to him in the first place.

“I have a surprise for you when you come inside.” You looked up at him.

“You do?”

“Mhmm. You’re gonna like it.”

He flashed you the same easy smile that you fell in love with. “Lucky me. I’m looking forward to it.”

When he sauntered into the house half an hour later, he sought you out before taking his boots off. They clunked against the hardwood as he entered the living room, and approached where you sat on the couch. You looked up from your phone, and tilted your head back to meet his lips when he leaned down for a tender kiss that made you relax with a sigh. His flannel carried the scent of the fresh outdoor air. In your senses, it mingled with the spicy-sweet aroma that lingered in the house.

He pulled away just enough to murmur, “Smells good in here.”

“I know.” You pecked his lips. “What does it smell like?”

He straightened up and his eyebrows furrowed a bit. Then he turned towards the kitchen and saw that there was a plastic container filled with muffins sitting on the counter. “Wait… are those pumpkin chocolate chip? Is that my surprise?”

“They are. I thought it’d be a nice treat. Consider it a little thank you for being an amazing husband.”

He smiled with a shake of his head. “It’s all you. You make it worthwhile,” he said. “I think I’m gonna go grab one right now.”

“After you take off your boots.”

He looked down at his feet. “Right,” he chuckled. “Forgot.”

You sat at the kitchen island, watching, as Bucky took his first bite. There was a loving smile on your face. He held his free hand beneath his chin in case any crumbs happened to fall. You admired the clench of his stubbled jaw as he chewed, and felt satisfied flutters in your chest when a hum rose up his throat. It reminded you of the reason why you adored doing things for him: his reactions. They always conveyed his sentiment in such a genuine and humble way. Bucky was a man who did so much for you and others that you didn’t mind the prospect of spending the rest of your life telling him I love you, I appreciate you, I see you, in a million different ways.

“So good, babydoll,” he said after swallowing. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” A small foot pressed against your lower stomach and you caressed the spot. Bucky took a couple more bites before you announced, “He’s kicking some more.”

“Is he?”

Upon seeing you nod, he fed the last piece of his muffin to you before going to wipe his hands with a napkin. Afterwards, he spun you in the stool to face him better. You guided his real hand underneath the tank top you’d layered the cardigan over. His palm was warmth against your skin. Sure enough, the baby kicked in the same spot. You wanted to hold onto the huff of laughter he released forever. More little kicks were delivered.

“I think he likes his daddy’s hands,” you said. “Which makes sense. I quite like them too.” You kissed Bucky’s chin.

The smile that spread across his face caused crinkles to form beside his eyes. “Well, you should. They’re always gonna protect you two and be there whenever you need ‘em.”

In that moment, it only seemed right to accept the overflow of your heart and allow your lips to join with his.

-

Thank you so much for reading!

More fluffy Bucky fics here.

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

So excited to read this!

𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 ↳ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

summary: with moving from metropolis to pursue your education in gotham, lois lends your number over to selina and bruce after recommending you and seemingly putting their nanny hunting towards an end.

⚤ pairings ; selina kyle x fem!reader, bruce wayne x fem!reader, selina kyle x bruce wayne

✗ warnings ; smut, pwp, innocence kink, threesome, jealousy, polygamy, possessiveness, top!selina x bottom!reader x switch!bruce, oral and virginal sex, unspecified but large and legal age gap.

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

to be written

𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

to be written

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

FACTS!

I knew I liked Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn 99 for more reasons that I already did. For starters, she's a fellow Latina. She is also canonically bi. AND, they didn't actually say the word, but she said some stuff in the series finale that were super aro!

At one point she says, "You all think for someone to be happy their story has to end in marriage and kids."

And then when Amy says the doesn't care if Rosa ever gets married or has kids, she just wants her to be happy, Rosa says she is happy and doesn't want to settle down.

And I'm like, holy shit! I feel so seen!! I'm so glad that was put into a popular mainstream show so the people who watch the show can realize that not 👏 everyone's 👏 story 👏 has 👏 to 👏 end 👏 with 👏 marriage 👏 and 👏 kids! And that you can have a fulfilling, exciting and happy life without all of that.

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

this is so cute I am dying AAAAAAAAAAA

A Dangerous Man

Syverson x Fem!Reader

vignette: Y/N starts to convince herself that she doesn't know Sy at all.

words: 4,000+

warning: mentions of military stuff. it's a bit of a blind spot, so I tried to be as cautious as possible with it.

masterlist

Y/N had been feeling off lately.

No, that wasn’t entirely true.

No. Y/N was feeling like her and Syverson were off.

Layla and Y/N had arrived at a bar not more than 45 minutes ago. Aiden had been drunk and called Layla, begging her to come. Even in his drunken state, he knew to add that Y/N should drive with her.

“Sy’s here, too.” Aiden had stage whispered so loudly that Y/N could hear it on Layla’s phone from the other side of the couch. “He told me to tell you to tell her to come!” Aiden added in a slurred that was somehow even louder.

Y/N had rolled her eyes as she tried to ignore the little flip her stomach did at the idea that Syverson wanted to see her. Not only that, but Sy also had no shame in letting everyone know that he wanted to see her.

Now Y/N stood at the bar with a slight annoyance.

Aiden was drunk in love, getting handsy with Layla. He was basically telling anyone that would listen how much he loved his “fiancé” – always emphasizing the recently updated title.

With the two lovebirds occupied, Y/N was left more to her own devices than usual in group settings like these.

Syverson had given her a shy hello.

Y/N had realized early on that Sy was a man of confidence, and he did or said what he wanted, when he wanted. And that included loving on her.

But Syverson also had some sort of code about showing that soft side of himself in public, where anyone could see it. His emotions were controlled, but he chose to also hide them from people – people that weren’t Y/N.

In a way, it made Y/N feel special.

Y/N had slowly approached him as soon as she had spotted him.

“Hey you,” she had given him a bashful grin, but didn’t make any move to kiss or even give the man a hug to also greet him.

To her surprise, Syverson hooked his finger in the belt loop of her jeans and tugged her closer, not liking the unusual space between them.

“Hey,” he smirked back, clearly amused at Y/N trying to keep her distance.

And to further surprise Y/N, he gave her a quick kiss.

No one saw it. That’s how quick it was. And everyone was too preoccupied with saying their hellos to various new arrivals in their large friend group.

The night went on and Y/N was pulled further and further away from Sy.

It wasn’t like Y/N expected Sy to talk to her and only her all night. She knew how to entertain herself. She was independent like that.

But now she was watching a group of women latch onto him.

Could Y/N even blame them? He was so handsome on top of being an almost disturbingly sexy man.

And Syverson was so good at containing his emotions, not letting anything that could be a hint slip to his exterior and allow people to read him.

Therefore, Y/N couldn’t tell if he was enjoying the attention or was annoyed by it.

‘I mean, what man would be annoyed by it?’ Y/N thought to herself.

And it wasn’t like Sy’s friends that Y/N knew here wanted to spend all night hanging out with her. They wanted to flirt and make out with new women – and if they were lucky, maybe take one of them home at the end of the night.

And Y/N was no longer even a contestant for that. Nope, she wasn’t. Little did Y/N know, this county saw her as Sy’s gal. That was simply just how this little southern society thought.

Y/N slowly made her way back to Layla, who was subtly trying to get Aiden swallow some more water and stop drinking for the night.

It wasn’t until Y/N was at their side that she realized there was someone else there talking to them.

“Oh, Y/N! This is our friend, Mark. Mark this is my cousin, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled and offered her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she answered politely.

“Nice to meet you, too.” He smiled back. His accent was hardly even there – not a hint Texas. He could even be mistaken for a midwestern.

Y/N wondered if he wasn’t originally from Texas. But then she realized there wasn’t her usual drive to get to know this stranger.

“Layla didn’t tell me how pretty her cousin was…” Mark teased.

Ew. Talk about cliche.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Layla laughed. “She’s off the market.”

“Layla!” Y/N scolded.

Mark didn’t take offense to it and laughed, “Figures. All the pretty girls are. Who beat me to it? But, more importantly, why’d he leave you all alone?”

“Syversonnnnnn,” Layla sang, earning her a glare from Y/N.

Mark wasn’t laughing anymore, though. “Syverson? As in Ethan Syverson.”

Y/N was so taken aback by his tone and shift in mood that she nervously blurted out, “Yeah?”

What did this man know that she didn’t?

“I’ve heard about him. He was Special Forces, right? Heard the guy killed like over 300 people during his tours."

That seemed to wake Aiden up from he drunken stupor. “Shut the fuck up, Mark.” He rumbled as he lightly shoved the guy. “You don’t know what the hell yer talkin’ about. No one keeps track of that shit. That’s so fucked.”

“What!” Mark yelped in defense. “I met a guy who was stationed on his base for a hot sec. He said the dudes a beast. Like, a robot. Never freaked. Never cracked.”

Layla scoffed. “Mark, what the fuck do you know about being in the military?”

The man held his hands up in surrender. “Look, all I’m saying is what I heard.”

A few seconds later, he mumbled something under his breath about getting a drink. Clearly he felt awkward after bringing up such a topic and being immediately called out for its inappropriateness.

But the damage was already done.

Y/N suddenly felt a little ill.

Obviously Syverson was in the military. Y/N knew that. And she’s not an idiot: the military often requires people to use deadly force. That was one of the many reasons mental health issues were so prevalent with veterans.

But having someone make such an offhand and far-too-casual comment about the possible amount of people that Syverson has killed made Y/N feel nauseous.

A part of her knew that wasn’t fair, that he most likely only followed orders or did what was needed to survive.

But Y/N couldn’t really access that reasonable side of her brain at the moment.

Suddenly, Y/N was thrown into recent situations that happened between her and Sy that had left her feeling uneasy.

––

Y/N had dragged Syverson to a diner that was off the highway when he was driving her home one night.

“Can we stop? Pleassseeee?”

Sy just shook his head but smirked and pulled off onto the exit.

He realized Y/N loved the authenticity of a remote diner off a highway, and that’s why she was so excited to pull over.

They were having an in-depth conversation when a shadow loomed over their booth.

Both of them looked over to see a middle-aged couple standing politely next to them.

“I’m real sorry to interrupt y’all,” the man began. “But I just wanted to stop by and thank you for your service.” He offered his hand.

Y/N quickly looked at Sy for some sort of indication how one was supposed to respond to such comments.

Sy didn’t seem to recognize the couple, but stood up from the booth, forced a polite nod, and shook the man’s hand with ease.

“I apologize on my husband’s behalf,” the wife chimed in to clarify. “We know your parents. Been to their house enough times to recognize your face from pictures. We’re Beth and Jim Bennet.”

“It’s nice to meet y’all,” Syverson answered.

“We heard all about ya from your mama,” the woman added. “We just wanted to come over and thank you for all ya done for your country.”

For some reason, Y/N felt like she wasn’t supposed to be a part of this exchange. It all seemed so…weird. And Sy may be good at hiding his emotions, but she could tell he was waiting for this interaction to be over. He once made a comment along the lines of, “I didn’t join the army for strangers to thank me…”

Suddenly, the couple turned their attention to Y/N, catching her off guard.

“You’re a lucky woman, honey. Make sure you keep this one happy, ya hear?” The woman told her with a distrustful and almost warning look.

It took all the power in Y/N to bite her tongue and not snap something back.

The woman’s tone was so patronizing that it made her see red.

Why did they have to bring her into this? She didn’t serve. She wasn’t his wife. What the actual fuck.

“Ya’ll have yourselves a good day,” the man finally told them and gently guided his wife out the door of the diner.

Y/N watched the tension in Sy’s body release in real time.

It seemed he also caught the woman’s inappropriate tone towards Y/N.

“Not like you to keep quiet,” he pointed out.

Y/N huffed, but studied his face. She wondered if what she wanted to say would be taken as extremely offensive to him.

“What was she expecting exactly? Did she want me to give you a blowjob right here and now? To make sure I’m – how did she phrase it? – keeping you happy.”

Sy tried to hide his smirk.

“Fucking bold of her to assume I’m your girl. It’s not like I have a ring on my finger.”

“And you want that?”

“What?” Y/N blurted out. “To give you a blow job?”

Sy chuckled. “No. Want to get a ring.”

Y/N actual grimaced at the very idea. “Fuck no.”

He didn’t seem surprised by her response and chuckled again.

“Listen, I support veterans and all that,” she continued her rant. “But to expect women to worship you as if we’re some kind of reward or prize or guarantee, because you served, is such a fucked up way of looking at it.”

“You’re gettin’ mighty worked up about this,” Sy hummed, clearly amused.

“Well, you looked just as uncomfortable…”

Sy tilted his head and crossed his arms. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Do you like it when people do that?”

“I hate it.”

“I could tell,” she pointed out. “But I don’t think anyone else would be able to.”

“Does that happen a lot?” She asked.

He just shrugged. “Sure. It’s a small county. I know most people around here. And they know I served.”

“You know…if you lived in NYC, you’d probably never hear that again,” she teased.

Sy forced a small smile, but didn’t say anything.

––

“Ignore them,” Layla whipped Y/N out of her head.

She realized she’d been spacing out as she looked in Sy’s general direction, and her cousin had caught it.

“They’re just tag chasers,” Layla told her.

Y/N frowned. “Tag chasers?”

“Women who go after men just ‘cause they’re in the military. It’s easier to make a clean cut. You know…fuck around for a bit, have some fun, and then get an easy out when they get deployed.”

“He’s done though,” Y/N noted.

“Well…guess that’d be Sy just being an eligible bachelor,” Layla giggled. “He’s still got a rep from serving, as you heard from our idiot friend, Mark.” She added an eye-roll.

A streak of yellow from the corner of Y/N’s eye suddenly caught her attention.

A taxis.

The first ones she’d ever seen since she got here.

And someone was getting out of one.

“Umm…I think I’m gonna go,” Y/N told Layla, clearly looking at the door.

“Go? What? We just got here!” Layla whined.

“I know. I’m just…I’m not in the bar mood,” it wasn’t the full truth, but it also wasn’t a total lie. Actually, Y/N didn’t really fully understand why her brain was telling her to flee.

“K. Babe.” Layla relented, suddenly realizing that her cousin was in a fight or flight mode. She wasn’t going to push Y/N or force her to stay or give her shit for leaving. But she was planning on talking to her about it when they were alone tomorrow.

Y/N had rushed to the exit, walking with purpose.

The taxi she’d spotted from inside had already been taken. But by some miracle, there was a couple more just pulling up to drop off passengers.

“You leavin’?” A voice said from behind her.

Y/N whipped around to see Sy watching her with an eyebrow raised.

How the hell did he even see that she was leaving? After all, he had seemed rather distracted.

“Yeah, I’m tired.”

Now that was a lie.

“Why didn’t you come get me?” He asked in confusion. “I can drive you home.”

Just then a new taxi pulled up and dropped off three giggling girls.

“You seem to be having fun,” her eyes flickered towards the bar. “I’m going home. Goodnight, Sy.”

Without giving him even a second to respond, Y/N hopped into the cab and distracted herself with giving Layla’s address to the driver.

As they pulled away, she couldn’t even find it in her to give Sy another glance.

Why did it just feel like she had been talking to a stranger?

All it took was one comment from someone and she saw him as an entirely different person – a person she didn’t know.

“Bad night?” The driver asked after he kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

“Ummm…” She hesitated, “I don’t really know.”

Y/N looked out the window and then remembered another moment between her and Sy that happened two weeks ago.

––

Y/N was asleep, head on top of Sy’s bare chest. His arms were wrapped around her as if he was trying to reassure himself that he wouldn’t lose her in his sleep.

A howl took over the night – so loud that it sounded as if the beasts were at the front door, threatening to tear it down and attack.

Y/N felt Sy shoot up and turn on the lamp at his nightstand.

She rubbed her eyes. “What the fuck was that? Wolves?”

“Coyotes,” he corrected.

He gently scooted out from underneath her, and got out of bed.

She watched him begin to leave the bedroom in just his shorts, no shirt or shoes on.

“Stay inside,” Sy instructed right before opening his bedroom door and disappearing down the hallway.

Y/N could hear him in one of the other bedrooms, fiddling with something.

Out of curiosity, she got up and followed the sounds.

She leaned against the doorway, and saw that Sy was opening up a locker with a padlock on it. When he opened it, Y/N saw that it was filled with guns and ammo – and more guns than she would ever see in her whole life.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re gonna go after the animals,” Sy didn’t look at her as he answered, too busy loading bullets into a rifle.

“Sy. I don’t think you should go out there. Those things are aggressive.”

He ignored her and then started walking past her.

“Sy,” Y/N snapped, not appreciating him ignoring her.

He paused and turned to her. “I mean it, stay inside.”

And with that, he went downstairs and out the door that led to the barn.

“Fucking christ,” Y/N hissed.

Then she quickly grabbed her phone, fully expecting to have to call 911 when Sy was ripped apart by viscous coyotes. She rushed to a window in the kitchen that faced the barn, hoping to be able to see Syverson.

But she couldn’t see shit. These country homes, they didn’t have an ounce of light pollution. She could’ve been looking into a black hole.

A few shots were fired and Y/N jumped as she felt them in her chest. Her hand automatically went to heart as if that would calm it down.

She listened, hoping not to hear another shot.

There was a screech and a few whines. Sy must’ve hit one of the coyotes.

Then a few more shots went off again.

Y/N jumped again. She’d never get used to that sound. Ever.

She heard the side door open. And she knew it was ridiculous, but a part of her expected to find a bloodied animal instead of Sy.

He froze a second as their gazes caught.

“You good?” He asked

“Are you?” She countered darkly, but her eyes were looking at the rifle in his hand.

Sy nodded. Then he adjusted the weapon, lowering it behind his thigh almost like he was trying to shield it from her.

“Did you kill them?” Y/N asked quietly.

Why was she like this? She sounded like child who didn’t understand the circle of life.

“I nicked a couple of them enough to scare ‘em off.”

Y/N just looked at him, not fully believing him. If he nicked them, surely that meant they were still going to die – just slowly and more painfully.

“How many fucking guns do you own?”

Sy’s jaw flexed. He knew she wasn’t going to like the answer. And he also knew why.

“‘Bout a dozen or so.”

Y/N just gave a stiff nod.

“I’m going back to bed,” she mumbled, not waiting for him to follow.

When Sy returned to the bedroom after locking all the firearms up again, he found Y/N at the very edge of the mattress with her back to his side of the bed. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she hadn’t fallen back asleep so easily.

––

It was Sunday afternoon. A week after Y/N Irish goodbyed at the bar.

Y/N was reading in Layla’s backyard. Her cousin was by no means rich, but her backyard sure made her seem that way to Y/N. It was giant and filled with flowers Layla had nursed since she moved in years ago.

Y/N sat on the patio in a cushioned bench that had no right to be as comfortable as it was. Her eyes skimmed over the pages of her book, lost in the words to be fully aware of her surroundings.

Her phone vibrated on the thigh she had carelessly balanced it on.

For most of her time outside, Y/N had been ignoring any and all notifications.

But something made her look down at the screen.

It was a text from Layla. Which was odd, because Y/N knew she was just inside.

She opened it to read, “Heads up…you have an incoming.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in confusion.

But then she heard the backdoor slide open and she turned around to see Syverson’s giant frame moving through the opening.

She held her breath, not prepared for this at all.

Sy moved to sit on the other side of the bench Y/N had been lounging on. But he didn’t face her. Instead, he looked forward with his arms crossed.

It reminded Y/N of the night Aiden and Layla got engaged, and Sy had come to comfort her.

“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you been avoiding me, darlin’…” His eyes were still looking forward as he spoke.

He wasn’t wrong.

Since the bar, she had ignored all Sy’s texts and few phone calls throughout the week.

Y/N sighed and put a marker into her book before closing it and placing it on the ground.

She watched Sy glance at the cover, reading the title, The Turnaway Study.

“So have you?” He pushed.

“Have I what?”

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Y/N wouldn’t meet his gaze and tugged her knees to her chest.

“Maybe,” she admitted quietly.

“You gon’ tell me why? Or you makin’ me guess?”

Y/N didn’t know how to explain. “It’s not that simple.”

Sy finally shifted his wait in the bench and faced her full on. “Somethin’ happened at the bar the other night. And the rumor is that somethin’ was said about me and it didn’t sit well with you…”

Y/N glanced at the house as if her glare could reach her cousin from here. “And I’m guessing Layla was the one that told you that…”

“Glad she did,” Sy confirmed. “Otherwise I’d be clueless as to what made you run for the hills.”

Y/N didn’t say anything. Because she knew unraveling her thoughts and fears would only hurt Syverson in the end. Even if it could possibly end up helping their relationship.

“Y/N,” Sy said seriously. Her eyes were pulled to his from his voice alone. “Imma ask you a question, and I need you to answer it honestly.”

She didn’t respond, only looked at him and waited.

But then his face clearly told her that he needed a confirmation from her.

She hesitated before finally giving him a nod.

“Are you scared of me?”

Y/N swore her heart broke as soon as he asked the question.

Because she was.

And when her eyes started to tear up, Sy had his answer.

“It’s not what you think,” Y/N practically whimpered.

But Syverson’s mind was already racing, thinking of every single thing he’d ever done with Y/N: Had he said something scary? Has he been aggressive without realizing it? Or was it something he hadn’t done?

“I’ve never been scared of you,” Y/N quickly told him and sniffed, trying to hold it together. “It’s the opposite. Sy, I’ve only ever felt safe with you. Yeah, you make me nervous – but it’s a good nervous. And it’s because of me – not you.”

She sniffed again as a few tears raced down her cheeks. “But then I think of how other people see you or act around you. And I think there’s a man in you I’ve never met or even seen a glimpse of before. And I get scared that I…that I don’t know you at all. And it’s only a matter of time before you become a stranger to me.”

Syverson shifted in his seat.

And it took a moment for Y/N to realize that he was trying to control his emotions.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Figured that she would be the one ruin this.

“Don’t be sorry,” he quickly said.

“I didn’t want to tell you…because…because I knew it would just hurt you.”

Sy seemed to have controlled himself.

He cleared his throat roughly. “Y/N, I’d rather you be honest – even if it hurts – than have you scared and avoidin’ me.”

She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop it with that,” he nearly growled.

A silence fell over them.

“Do you want to stop this?” Sy finally asked.

This clearly being whatever was happening between the two of them. And they both understood that was what he meant.

Y/N shook her head quickly, almost desperately. And giving him no warning, she rushed from across her side of the bench to him, wrapping her arms around him and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“The thought of…” he cleared his throat again. “The thought of ever scaring you makes me sick. If I ever do…you need to tell me.”

He felt her nod against his neck. But he gently pulled her face up so they were looking act each other.

His look was dark. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I will,” she promised.

They both took a deep breath.

He kissed her forehead. “How’d you feel ‘bout me takin’ you out to dinner?”

Syverson wanted to add that he’d missed her all week, and that he’d gotten a glimpse into a life that no longer had her. And he had no interest in it. But he didn’t want to spook her. He also wasn’t one to express his emotions so openly. So he kept it to himself.

Y/N nodded. “But only if you let me pay.”

Sy narrowed his eyes. “Nice try. Ain’t no chance.”

“Come on!” She whined as they stood up from the bench. “You know, your dick won’t fall off if you let a woman pay for you…”

“I know it won’t,” he replied and pinched her butt.

Y/N yelped and slapped his hand away. “Ethan Syverson!”

He only chuckled and grabbed her hand, walking her to the house so she could get shoes and her bag.

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

Let me know if you liked it! Please, please, please. Also let me know you want to see from these Syverson vignettes.

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

I didn't know I needed this au until this post

6:26 ☁︎ TIM DRAKE

A scenario wherein Tim Drake recognizes your voice because you run a sleep-aid podcast he listens to religiously.

(it's in the drafts, folks. i just dunno how to write it and make it interesting lmao)

⌠ @dahliaroseanne 2021 ⌡

[unlikelybreadwhispers]

SO. SWEET. THIS FIC IS PROBABKY THE BEST I EVER READ ABOUT JASON. HE WOULD BE A AMAZING (insecure, but amazing) FATHER

Little Bird (Jason Todd)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1k

Everything was new to him. The soft cries that woke him up during the night, the small giggles that didn't come from his lover, to the soft stares. Everything was new. A learning experience for him and you. Truthfully, he was scared. He would never admit how hard his heart was pounding as he stood in the hospital room waiting for the small bundle of joy to enter the world. The wailing felt like agony as he wanted to make sure she was ok. He couldn't place his emotions as he locked eyes with you, the small child now held snug in your arms.

He could remember how tired you looked, but still so beautiful. The small question of "do you want to hold her?" had his mind racing. Did he? His heart was racing as he slowly shook his head "yes." Soon she was in his arms. So light and delicate he almost felt the tears leave. Until a small wet drop landed on the blanket as she reached her small fingers towards him.

A man, one that was once so broken now stood in the middle of a hospital room allowing tears to spill freely as she was held in his arms. He used to holding guns, fighting and killing the scum that walked Gotham's streets. Now he found himself holding a child that's not even an hour old. She was his. His blood was flowing through her. As he stood in that room he promised he wouldn't leave her, that he wouldn't let anyone hurt her. He remembered how tired you looked. Soon falling asleep at the calm words he spoke. Being allowed to hold his daughter again sent him into a million emotions.

Soft kind words were spoken to her as he held her close. The time at the hospital wasn't long and he soon found himself at home. Soon, he felt himself panicking. A bunch of "what if's" or "this might not be safe" flowing through his mind at a rapid pace it was enough to give him a headache.

It was the soft smile that came from his lover that put him at ease. Surely you were worried over the same things so he knew he shouldn't panic, but he wanted to be a good father. He wanted to be there to watch her grow up. Have her do things he never experienced as a child. Though it was the lingering thoughts that slowly came back. He could never be a good father when he never had the best father figure in his life? She'll grow up with a broken father. It filled his anxiety. His heart wouldn't stop racing, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

Finally light filled the darkness he found himself in. Hands found there way into his, familiar ones. Ones that calmed him down. He could never understand how such a small action could calm him down, but he knew he was grateful for it. He knew a few years back he'd never thought he'd find love. He thought he'd sit in a world of blackness closed off to the world. He knew everyone was worried for him. Dying, coming back only with more hatred towards the world. Bruce swore he'd never find anyone. But it was like life was finally giving him a break from negativity and bad luck when you came into his life.

He was unsure of the bright smiles, thinking the world was out to ruin and break his poor heart more. Though it was only time when he soon realized that it was the complete opposite. The world had finally decided to shed some light in the darkness he had been in for too long.

So, as he allowed the day to go by he soon found himself awake, the silent cries waking him up out of his light sleep. He turned to his left, the moonlight shining just enough to show how out of it you were. He sat up throwing the covers off of his slightly tired body as he made his way out of the bedroom. Two doors down he found himself now deep into his daughter's room. Eyes curiously eyeing the wailing child. Quickly and cautiously he picked her up. Remembering what you had said early he had made sure to check if she had an emergency and to his small excitement she didn't. He knew she wasn't hungry so now he was curious.

Now held in his arms he left the room the cries calming down. It was enough to make him chuckle as he made his way to the living room. The silence throughout the apartment was otherwise calming as his feet brought him into the living room. As he sat down he noticed how calm she was. Almost like she was crying for her father's attention. He sat down, fingers going to rub her soft cheeks. The softness was something new and he was afraid the harshness of his fingers would startle her to tears but to his surprise, she remained silent, her blue eyes staring into his own. His heart was racing. So many things running through it at once. He wanted to cry, he wanted to promise her everything.

As he sat in the living room the lights being just enough to lull the small child back to sleep within his arms as he said silent promises yet again. Hoping that one day he'd stay true to his word. He wanted to give her the world. He wanted to be an amazing father, an amazing lover to you. The promises he kept telling himself would be fulfilled.

He'd be better.

He would no longer be reckless if that meant the little bundle in his arms would keep breathing and living. He would never second guess himself with her or you. The two of you were a team, parents, and lovers. Hell, he'd give up his killing criminals for his daughter. Anything that could ensure her safety from now on. He'd give her the world, make amends with people he hated. All for her. The little bundle in his arms.

"I love you little bird. I'll be the best damn father I can be. Just for you."