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shiro41 · 3 months

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Fluffy ears- Alastor

Summary: You always want to touch his ears but unfortunately for you, he rejects the very idea of it until he lets you.

Warnings: sub!Alastor, blowjob, brief mentions of a tentacle, drools, him in a rut?, dom turned sub reader, humping.

Note: this is my first time publishing a smut piece-- im anxious.

You always wondered how the fluff of the man's ears sit atop of his head, moving in sync with his moods and reactions. It wiggles, sometimes pinned on his head like a saddened pup, most times relaxed and stood proudly on his head. You wonder how they feel like.

"Please, Alastor?"

You put your hands in front of you, batting your lashes the best you could as you begged the overlord to let you touch his ears. His fluffy, fluffy ears. Knowing Alastor, he despises any form of physical contact unless he initiated first and touching his ears is a positive no. Which you got.

"Pretty please! I'll do anything!"

The smile on his face never wavered, staying the same size yet, his red spheres glowered with the slightest bit of irritation.

"My dear, touching my ears is a no. I'd appreciate it if you forget the ever thought of it."

He tapped your nose with his microphone, leaning down to your height and close his eyes-- smile still remaining. This resulted with a huff from you, growing equally as irritated and curious as he is. You watch him walk off, probably towards his radio station to broadcast yet another episode of pained screams of the unfortunate souls.

"I swear I'll get to touch it!"

You murmured to yourself, forming a fist as a rush of determination flowed through your ever being. You run to your room with the thought of his fluffs, ignoring the shaking heads of the staff.

"You think she'll ever touch 'em?"

Angel asked, turning to his cat friend who shook his head in disagreement.

Weeks passed and you still ask for the same thing to the radio demon, consistently begging for your hands to land on top of his head and within those weeks, he's been rejecting the idea nonstop.

"Come on, Alastor! Just five minutes!"

"No."

"Fine, four!"

"Still a no, darling."

Another interaction failed, it left you puffing smoke out of your nose from the forming irritation boiling in your blood. At this Point, the both of you find one another annoying. How persistent despite the many times of statements with the same content.

Of course, even the most patient man has his limits and it didn't happen until dozens of months passed where you took the advantage of the radio demon's vulnerable state of mating. He's a deer, it's perfectly normal to have these cycles once a year--maybe twice. You're not an expert with animals.

"Alastor, please let me touch your ears!"

You come to him again, noticing the relaxed posture yet the shaking of his grip on the microphone gave way to the battles inside him at the moment. He simply gave out a sigh, grabbing ahold of your hand and teleporting you to his room that's resembled the forest.

"Can I touch you now?"

A growing excitement evident in your voice, gasping as Alastor agreed and sat down on the cold ground covered with lush greens. His claws simply guided you to lay on his lap, like a father would comforting his child. They nestled and made home on your hips, occassionally brushing the skin beneath the clothes you wore as he lowered his head to give you full access to the red ears that heated due to the rushing blood and hormones he's experiencing at the moment.

"Be careful, darling. I can't promise a night of only receiving the pleasures of touching my ears."

He warned, reminding you he may not restraint himself from the animal instincts and growing need to reproduce. You, aware of the situation, nodded in understanding. So long as you can come to contact with the deer's ears, nothing is worth regretting.

You notice the first touch, it twitching in a manner so gentle you let a coo of compliments to him. The static noise of what you believe were small grunts and moans coming from Alastor deafened your ears, the pair only tucked more to his head when you massaged the base of it until the tips.

Soon enough, you find yourself touching his sensitive ears as he occassionally quivered underneath your touch, head burrowed in the crook of your neck and saliva running down his chin. His claws threaten to dig deeper into your hips, constantly restraining himself from hurting you physically. The statics have worsened, now sounding similar to purring yet, still with the whines and murmurs of encouragement from him.

He's melting in your touch.

"A-ah..please keep it u-up..! Kngh--"

He whimpered, feeling your hands travel from his soft ears to his small, hard antlers. It was rough to the touch, feeling like branches but the softness of the fur of his ears brushing up on your wrists was enough to get you going.

"Ooh it seems l-like I can't handle it a-ah..any further, chèr..!"

He breathed, moving your hips to grind on his crotch in a slow pace. You didn't mind the movement, opting to focus on your goal at hand and that is to savour every moment with the two pairs sitting atop his red head. Your skirt is pushed up until your thighs, barely showing the pink panties you wore today. It's patched with slight wetness in the middle, indicating your aroused figure in the situation you're in. Alastor underneath you was not far from your state, bucking his hips every time you brush your fingers against his head and occassionally travel to his cheeks and jaw before circling again on top.

The grinding didn't maintain its pace, now only moving faster the longer you went and the harder Alastor's hips thrust to meet your clothed cunt that's soaked with wetness resulting in his pants to stain too.

"Oh, Mon cher! I'm about to cum...!"

He breathed, continuing to produce whines after whines as you nip at the sensitive ear of his while the other's been massaged by your hand. You can feel Alastor drooling, the evidence being your discoloured shirt that's wet from his saliva, sliding down the cleavage of your chest. He whimpers with every meeting of his crotch coming to contact with your clothed pussy, almost rolling his eyes back as he feels himself getting closer by the minute.

"Oh darling, please let me cum."

He begged, eliciting a moan from you. Your stomach flipped with butterflies with every word of him begging you to let him have a satisfying release, you feel his tongue slither from your collarbone to your jaw, moaning while doing so. He's drooling a ton, almost bathing you in the process.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck--"

He chanted, voice echoing throughout the forest of his room like a broken record- statics incoherent and almost deafening until warmth spread from his crotch and feeling it on your pussy. He's creamed in his pants, the tent evident that he's been uncomfortably hard yet, you continue your abuse to his already sensitive ears, not letting him ride his release which caused a shriveled whine mixed with scream at the sudden sensation.

"Oh fuck! Oh, I can't take it! I can't take it, I can't- I can't-"

Again like a broken record, his voice transmitted a series of incoherent noise. The hands on his ears suddenly disappeared, cutting off the source of his scarce pleasure before he felt the belt of his pants being unbuckled and removed, not at the very least ashamed of the cum covered boxers once you pulled down the thick material of his pants.

You no longer towered him, instead kneeling in front of his sitting figure. The sight of the thin fabric that covered his obviously hard, wet cock made you moan. It was leaking with precum, pouring out of hid boxers before your tongue decided to take a taste of heaven in hell.

"Aahh..!"

A long drag of Ahs and a claw at the back of your neck has Alastor throwing his head back until his head collided with the tree behind. Your head pressed against the heat of his dick, rubbing your cheek affectionately against it as you look at those reds of his through the clumps of your eyelashes, eyes covered with thick lust.

His hand wiped the saliva off the corners of his mouth, now removing the stray of locks from your face and slowly taking out his angry red dick that's been begging to be released and aching to be touched. With its size, it slapped you in the process resulting with sticky cum kissing your cheek, the overlord repeating the process time and time again, swaying the hard organ across you and enjoy the sight of your tongue poking out ever so slightly, enticing him to fill it up with his thick cock.

"A-ah..ah no..let me savor this first, dear girl."

He tried to create dominance, continuing to tease you with his dick encircling your mouth but never in it. This resulted with an impatient whine coming out of your mouth, a hand coming to travel to your gaping pussy still clad in pink, wet panties but unfortunately, a tentacle wrapped itself onto your wrist- effectively preventing you from giving yourself pleasure.

A small sigh escape his lips, looking at your hazed lustrous expression before finally inserting his dick inside your awaiting mouth. The tentacle still was on your wrist and come to binding both of your hands behind your back, preventing you any self pleasure with the exception of his dick inside your mouth.

"Take it in, Darling..!"

He murmured, his hand massaging your aching scalp whilst his ruby spheres looked down at you with a hint of sadism that matched his mischievous smirk.

He could only hear your muffled whines as you tried to claw the tentacle that wrapped your wrist together, he could see the evident teardrops forming and sliding down your cheeks as your throat caved in and took the shape of his cock perfectly.

"Mhn, such a good girl...!!""

He praised, hand travelling from your scalp to your chin that's covered with a thin coat of saliva and cum. He's been so lost in pleasure that he lost track of time how long your mouth has been stuffed by his cock.

You feel the sudden pull of your head, forcing you to release Alastor's dick from your mouth that stood tall, thick and angry red from you sucking him like an infant to a mother for the past minutes. Alastor glanced at the streaming saliva that travelled down from your chin to the valleys of your perky breasts, mixed with his thick, white semen that you seem to not get enough of.

"I'm sorry about this, love."

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #smut #x reader #alastor x reader #tentacles #ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT #HELP

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vivivav · 2 months

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‼️ 14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI ‼️

Are these headcanons? am i theorizing? am i analyzing his character? could these just be kinda writing prompts? god fucking knows atp

Kinda turns into just…. a Renren appreciation post at the end. Love them

- If angel is someone who talks to themselves a lot, Ren would thoroughly enjoy that and sometimes reply as if they were having a conversation, and would frequently even use it as an opportunity to practice their “haruko” persona as he replies to them

- Usually when people are on their electronics they almost never look at the little camera directly, instead focused on the screen but those rare moments where Angel actually looks into the camera, if even for a second it makes Ren breathless because it feels like angel’s looking at him.

- got this one from one of the little fics but whenever angel’s on call with someone, Ren loathes it. Because, they don’t like that angel’s paying so much attention to someone else, but on the other hand they’re close their phone. Talking to someone, laughing, making jokes and having conversation and if Ren tries really hard, they can pretend that angel’s having a conversation with him instead.

- Ren tries to time their eating schedule with Angels occasionally, unless he’s just trying to snack on something. Not JUST because they’d find it relaxing to eat with angel but because he doesn’t want to take time away from staring at angel just so they can eat, he’d prefer to train his body to get hungry when angel gets hungry so they don’t waste even a second of his time with angel

- for day 1; not inviting him over and then choosing to call/text him, you can hear them running away from (what’s presumably) angels door so angel doesn’t hear him talk/type, but they only leaves the SECOND angel calls or texts, not before. Now maybe he wasn’t expecting angel to contact him and was genuinely surprised, or, since angel was on call with Moth, (who was urging angel to talk to Ren…) they saw that angel then went on their phone and either looking at his contact or had the chat pulled up, so maybe he just didnt want to waste even a second not staring at angel. Though, maybe it was more of a mix of both

- His first meeting with angel in the library seeming so akward to angel while Rens brain is going a thousand mph. Mad that his first meeting with them wasn’t the perfect one they imagined, mad that he wasn’t prepared, scared you’ll see right through them BECAUSE he wasn’t prepared, nervous to finally be near angel and have them FINALLY talk to him, trying to come up with an excuse as to WHY he pressed the button in the first place (he did NOT read those pages nor that fucking book i am telling you now), trying to come up with any excuses to keep angel there with them for longer, how to stay with angel, to introduce himself, to hear angels voice more, restraining himself to not go completely haywire off the bat because first impressions matter SO much. Then the second you turn away and he gets eleanor out of the way they have to quickly dig in his pockets (or steal stickynotes from the library counter) to try and come up with something charming to write and have angel read to make them find him cute/approachable/not-fucked-up/your-exact-type

-ecords angels voice sometimes and tried to cut and put the clips together to spell something out for him in angels voice (momentary satisfaction but it’d never beat hearing angel actually say it) (most likely it was either their real name or “i love you” or something cheesy like that. maybe.)

- i know he’s not superstitious but the thought of them coming accross one of those posts of “These initials belong together!!” and NOT seeing his and angels initials in there making them mad is so funny lol. Bonus if he sees someone elses initials with angels (Say, A+L as in Angel and Leon). and they’d get mad and either X out everyone elses combinations and put only him and angels in it or search for one with them in it. He knows logically that it doesn’t mean anything and that it was probably just some kid making a fun video but god forbid having someone elses initials with Angels even with something silly like that

- they’d be one of those boyfriends that if angel as little as looks at something for more than a few seconds he’d ask if they’d want it, or just grab it and buy it right away, or remember it and buy it as a surprise for them later. Angel giving a quick second look at like a shirt or a toy and then continuing to walk and then the next day Ren’s giving it to them because he “thought they’d like it”. This alr kinda happens in game on day 2 but pshh they’d buy it for angel even if they didnt literally pause and stare at it for a minute and a half

- Angel forgetting a password to one of their accounts and complaining about it to Ren, who immediately tells them what it is, only for Angel to be like ??? wtf how’d you know. Or, if they weren’t completely caught up in staring at angel he’d comfort them and tell them that they’ll remember it soon. And then write it down for angel somewhere for them to find easily/ purposefully saying something that kinda sounds like it or would hopefully get angel to remember it, like. If the password was “iloveharuko13” he’d start talking about AOG with them, specifically about haruko’s last appearance

- Angel asking Ren how he’s been today when they’re catching up and him-not even thinking about what he was actually doing today just thinking about how happy they are now that angel’s here- just answering with “i’ve been good! how about you..?” very quickly because he’s eager to hear Angels thoughts. He already knows what they’ve been doing but how they FELT about it and their thoughts on it are much more interesting/important

- The reason he stares at angel so much aside from the obvious is that they’re trying with all his strength to develop mind reading powers /silly /not serious but he mightve actually at least tried this at one point no?

- Angel having a diary would be the equivalent of a bible to him. Its angels raw unfiltered thoughts written out BY them. That’s pure gold and god must’ve blessed Ren if angel decided to keep a “top secret” diary. (if angel complained about someone in said diary he’d keep an eye out for them specifically and try to limit angels interactions with them until they made up or parted ways. Or. something happened to them lol)

- idk i just wanna mention that i love their desperate attempts to just be around angel and have them see him. “Sweet boy”, i say, knowing fully well what he’s done and is capable of

- Occasional Angels cutlery thief. you know why (returns them though) (maybe)

- Him asking in their head over and over again “is this real? am i dreaming?” when angel actually invites him over to their place and what ensues because?? only in his dreams right???

- Ren was practically gritting his teeth when they said “what do you think i’ve been doing since you moved away…” at Leon, i don’t think he was angry because Leon moved (probably actually was really happy upon hearing it- maybe thinking “this is my chance! it’s my turn!”) but because the act of him moving made angel sad. It was more of a “how dare you do something that you knew would hurt angel” while secretly they were glad that Leon moved. another,, “loathe” kinda thing? Hates that angel was hurt but happy that Leon wouldn’t be as much in his way anymore?

- Purposefully sometimes leaves angels windows/doors open just so he could see them come closer to shut it. Very rare for them to do bc he doesn’t wanna make angel like,, paranoid (unless they’d be going to him for comfort and safety… but… maybe that’d only be if he’s really desperate…)

- Thinking abt if they’d ‘coincidentally’ show up on angels double date on day 4 or watch from afar. “haha how funny i didnt know you would be here… with……… them………….mind if i come with since i’m here anyway? haha? ^^” …and then him trying to pull angel away from the rest of the group (especially leon and teo ) so it can be another date with just angel and ren…? perhaps. will patiently wait to see

- I think this is alr canon but i’ll say it anyway; him learning angels favourite foods and learning exactly how to cook them. Yes, they could just order the food in through delivery like he does for himself but they want to impress angel and make it specially for them. I feel like the reason he had the pancake recipe STILL pulled up on their phone even though he was already at the very last step of cooking them was because he wanted to be absolutely certain that they were making them EXACTLY the way angel liked- trying to reference pictures for how they were cooked and plated even though he’s probably got them all memorized by heart- but he just wants to be sure.

- Ren stalks angel but in doing so he also stalks everyone close to angel, of course in completely different ways and completely different reasons but they’d nonetheless know a LOT about the people who angel surrounds themselves with; even without hacking into their belongings and finding every little thing about them (Incase he needs to use this infomation against them… or tell angel)

- ^ adding on that him watching angels friends have other friends and become friends with eachother would probably also be like,, something that makes them at least a little happy. In the way of “If they have eachother then they won’t be around angel as much ^^”

- Ren in absolute distress watching angel get sick BEFORE their meeting in the library. Wanting nothing more than to bend reality itself to make angel better and get them everything they need but knowing that they can’t do that yet. (He’d pray that angel wouldn’t notice that their waterbottle on the nightstand keeps “filling itself up”, some pain meds just “showing up” on said nightstand, the cold towel on their forehead being cold again once they woke up… uh, more… taking-care-of-sick-person-things that i’m forgetting rn…)

- Yk that funny thing you sometimes do when you look directly into the camera on your phone/laptop/ whatever youre on and you say sumn like “i know you’re watching me!!!” as a joke. Like the “fbi in my phone” joke. Yeah. imagine that.

- if angel was an artist and drew ren ( be that in secret or asking him to pose ) He’d probably act really flattered and be all smiles and secretly be running laps around his brain like there is smoke building at the top of their head. Angel, taking time out of their day to stare at Ren (or draw him from memory?) and draw him? HIM? As in. Specifically REN, not haruko??? Bonus if he WATCHES angel draw him, weither that be in secret or not, they’d see just how FOCUSED angel is and the effort they’re putting into drawing him. His heart would explode, probably. (Also if angel is staring at them? yeah. yeah.)

- Not enough people talk about how he was so puppy-eyed upset when Leon called angel “sunfish” right in front of them. Interrupting angel and everything. You could practically FEEL the “:(“ in his little “-sunfish?” and the next words out of their mouth were “-Angelfish and i-“ as if Ren was subtly CHALLENGING Leon and trying to compete with him. How dare he have a special petname just for them? As if Ren hasn’t been calling them ‘Angel’ for his whole life? Does Leon even KNOW what sunfish look like? ‘Angelfish’ is so much smarter and they’re prettier fish. It’s essentially insulting.

- When angel starts showing signs of liking Rens real personality he absolutely overthinks the hell out of it. Because, surely not?? That was just their hopeful thinking? Him hearing things, maybe??? I don’t think Ren would believe angel at first if they started showing interest in his real personality, have to convince him before they even think about it. After all, it’s his haruko persona that finally got your attention after 13 years. Surely you like that more than this freaky creepy emo guy. They’re practically opposites afterall

- Angel making any sort of comment about the future that involves Ren- be it in the next day, week or month, he’d be over the moon. You want to keep them around for that long, that you’re already planning it? Thinking about it? Including him in your daily life and schedule? It’d only further his belief that you are an angel

- Rens mumbling coming from the fact that he doesn’t socialize like at all, and is used to just saying things out loud to angel and talking to themselves. He mumbles and whispers things to himself a lot and i REALLY like that trait abt him, i do the exact same thing

- im sorry i wanna mention i really like his little angry face. Rens little furrowed brow and pout. It’s so perfect and he is NOT shy of using it every single time someone interrupts or even suggests taking angels attention. I pause and stare at them everytime he pulls that little “>:(“ face i adore it sm i love the art in this game.

- Already canon but this mans love for matching with Angel in any way is so fun. If you choose to dress in a “comfy” way they get all happy and like almost celebrate it. “Yes!! i knew you liked softer clothes! I was so right picking this outfit this will surely impress them and have their attention on me!”, in the same breath, if you choose to dress “alternatively”, Ren thinks you look very pretty but then they’re a little pouty that angel’s not matching with him, he specifically chose this outfit for angel and didn’t think they’d be wrong since he knows angel so well

holy god i did NOT just write that much… it just turned into rambling oops. i needa replay again and write more haha here i go

rlly hope i’m not just like horribly wrong about everything lol i CANNOT survive a “he would not fucking say that !!!”

thank you sai for creating Ren and showing him to the world with the rest o’ the crew. They are all so very dear to me 💗

#14dwy ren #14 days with you #14dwy #ren 14 days with you #ren 14dwy

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rboooks · 10 months

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If you take requests can you do a dc x dp with dead tired ship?

I love requests~! I really hope I got dead tired, ship, right. I need to find out the ship names. It's Tim/Danny, right? If not, let me know, and I'll fix you another one.

Tim really wasn't looking forward to meeting the new heir to Vladco. Usually, his parents didn't want anything to do with new money, as they thought that new money was too close to no money, but Vlad Masters was different.

The difference? He bought out almost all of Drake Industries' shares, and now Tim honestly thinks he owns more of the family company than his parents. Jack and Janet hoped to make good connections with the man and slowly but surely trick him into selling the shares back to the Drakes.

Tim thought if he was smart enough to get the people that bought shares of his family company generations ago, not just once but at least eight times, then Vlad Masters wouldn't be as easy to trick as they thought.

Then again, his parents aren't the best businessmen around. If they were, they wouldn't be flying through the family wealth, leading them to bankruptcy.

Tim would know.

One day, he looked at their books when he was bored a few months after discovering Batman's identity. He tried to tell his mom about it, but she told him that he didn't understand the business well enough to tell.

So he signed himself into college-level business courses online to learn it. She didn't appreciate his initiative.

"Remember, Tim, Daniel Masters is who you must befriend," Janet says for the third time as they climb out of their car. " Friendships are the ladders to climbing up in the world."

"Yes, Mom." He tries to smile at her, but all Tim wants to do is go back to the roofs of Gotham and watch the Bats.

Jason is supposed to start his solo patrols tonight, which is a big deal, and he's missing it. His parents weren't supposed to be back for another month. However, their latest job was canceled due to locals complaining.

His dad grumbled about people getting in the way of history, but Tim thinks it has more to do with his parents wanting to dig up an old cemetery......apparently the locals like their grandparent's resting place to be left alone.

Tim also thinks it's not lovely to dig there just because the locals are poor, so he may have hacked into the country's files and flooded the internet with the disrespectful attempt that his parents were trying to make. It received the right amount of backlash to stop the whole operation.

He then sent the community an anonymous donation so they could fix it up, get the gravestones washed, and the stories of the buried people turned into a book. It's the least he could do.

Tim's parents didn't realize the loss of funds only because he carefully hid his tracks with shell companies.

They are greeted at the door by Vlad Masters. He gives his father a handshake, compliments his mother's dress, and even offers Tim a gentle hello. Masters is known for being a bit of a humble hermit, soft-spoken but with sharp, intelligent eyes.

Everything he expects new money to be, down to his mannerism and even the way he stands. Tim would have been able to clock him miles away without even knowing his name.

"This is my son, Daniel," Masters says, patting the head of a frowning boy Tim's age. He stands just a bit away from Masters as if he does not want to be near him. Tim notes the way he shies away from Master's hand.

Interesting.

"It's Danny." The boy hisses. Mom's face tightens at his manners. She never liked children being heard instead of seen. Danny takes a small breath before smiling at the Drakes with a friendlier composure.

The hostility was only toward his father?

"Please call me Danny. It's my real name, not a nickname," He says, offering his hand for a shake. Tim fights a wince. As the son of a wealthy family and not the head, Danny is not supposed to initiate a greeting with Tim's dad.

He just told the Drakes he needs to be aware of high society rules, making him easy pickings. His parents jump onto that weakness like a lion on a trap gazelle.

"Daniel. It's lovely to meet you. " Mom's articulation is just a shade away from being mocking. Danny's smile falls off his face closing down into a near-emotionless mask. "How old are you, deary?"

"I'm old enough to still hear correctly, unlike you. That's not my name. It's Danny." He says much to mom's surprise. Tim guesses she's not used to people challenging her so directly. He learned that, too, while he was running Gotham.

The elites always made passive-aggressive backhanded comments to insult each other. The poor told you to fuck off to your face.

"You do not speak that way to my wife, Daniel-" His Dad starts, but Danny holds up his hand.

"You either call me Danny or don't talk to me." He says. "I don't need to waste my breath repeating myself."

Wow. Tim thinks, watching the red growing on Dad's face. He's cool.

"Are you going to let him talk to me like that?" Dad demands, turning to an amuse-looking Masters. The other man raises a brow, his gentle smile still on his face, but somehow it looks more....dismissive now. As if he was looking at a child demanding the impossible.

"Why ever do you mean?" Masters asks, "Your tone implies you were insulted, but that would mean you are upset with a child asking to be spoken to with respect. Surely, a man of your standing knows children deserve respect?"

"They need to respect their elders." Mom cuts in her voice like ice.

"He is my son, so I am his elder. Not you." Master counters, "But not to worry, I will remedy this issue. Danny will no longer be speaking to you disrespectfully, as I will not allow him to be near you."

His parents had a few seconds of looking smug until Masters waved his hand back towards the driveway. "Have a lovely night, Mr. and Mrs. Drake."

"Excuse me?" Mom cries, and Tim can't believe his eyes. The rest of the wealthy guests have caught on to the issue and have gathered near the windows and doorway to watch.

"That's Fruitloop for You can leave now." Danny chirps starting to look more like his father by the amusement on his face. "Except for him. He's cool."

He points to Tim, who flushes at the attention. He had been staring at Danny, taking in every detail of his expression and body language, fascinated by the fact he did not once seem intimidated. He didn't even look bored.

He seemed comfortable in his slightly slouched posture and confident in his skin and abilities. But his earlier behavior implied that just as he is confident in himself, he also doesn't think very highly of himself.

Tim's never seen anyone like that. It's strange. New. Exciting.

Heck, it was exhilarating.

Tim wanted to break Danny Masters' head open and figure everything about him out. It felt like a new case just begging him to uncover.

"I am?" He asks in a slight daze, and the other boy offers him a dazzling smile.

"Yeah, you respect the dead. The spirits adore you."

What?

"Oh, this is the young boy who protected that cemetery in Guatemala?" Masters asks with genuine warmth this time. "A fine job, Timithoy."

"It's Tim." He hears himself say, and Masters nods.

"A fine job Tim."

Danny offers him a wink, and Tim thinks his stomach just fell out of his body. What is this-?

"Timothy, we are leaving!" His mother screeches, tugging on his arm and yanking him away. The rest of the guests laugh as the Drakes are driven away. Tim knows he will never be allowed near Danny after this, so he turns his head around to give the boy one last look.

He meets the glowing green eyes of the Masters, who wave their fingers at him.

Tim starts following Danny around after that.

(Danny and Vlad know he's there and think it's cute. That's how ghost courts, so they don't see it as a problem. What is problem is getting along long enough for them to figure out a way back to their home dimension. Danny allowed Vlad to overshadow people just so they could have the means to eat, but he's getting really sick of Gotham. At least the soft clicking sound of a camera lures him to sleep at night.

Tim approaches Robin before his hero can go to Ethiopia. He doesn't understand what he is experiencing as his first crush and concludes that the Masters are aliens planning on luring small children by making them fall under a spell through their glowing eyes. Jason takes this very seriously and agrees to wait on his mission overseas. He realizes early on what's actually happening but, by that point, thinks Tim is hilarious and just edges him on.

He, too, thinks the Masters are aliens, but he's not about to tell Bruce.)

#dc x dp crossover #The Masters are aliens Au #Requested Prompt #Danny Fenton/Tim Drake #Bad parents Jack and Janet Drake #Tim is 13 here #Danny is 14 #Vlad just thinks this all hilarious #Dimension travel #They call DC dead “spirits” and not ghost cause they lack more ecotplsm

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mistydeyes · 7 months

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Hi,if you’re not busy can you write a fic of Cod characters with a cia agent gf ?

yes ofc! yk i love a good little government agent gf moment :)

a double life

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: From hidden occupations to a particular set of skill sets, the 141 learns to adapt to having a girlfriend who has all the right qualifications (and who could completely kick their ass).

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence

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price

"Sorry I can't be there to meet you, Price," Laswell spoke over the web camera feed, "got tied up in South America." Price nodded as he held the bridge of his nose, Laswell had promised her best field agent to act as a point person for their mission in New Zealand. However, just the thought of some middle-aged retired veteran or worse yet, hot-shot rookie, made his headache pound even further. "She's a good one, Price," Laswell reassured, "skilled in practically every major language and the best marks in her physical fitness examination." "Yes Kate, I read her file, but it seems like you failed to include a photo-" He was interrupted by a sturdy knock at the door. "Looks like she's here."

As you cracked the door open, you practically dropped the files that sat in your arms. "What are you doing here?" Price asked jovially and you could feel the breath release from your sternum, "didn't expect an on-base visit like this." As the pieces began to fit together, you realized he didn't know what you were actually there for. "John, Kate sent me here," you whispered as you shut the door gently, "heard you're going to New Zealand." As the realization hit him like an oncoming train, you braced for impact. "You-you work for the CIA?" he asked almost foolishly and you nodded in response. "I did say I worked in Virginia," you corrected, "and you had to know my surprise visit yesterday wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing." Price could feel his headache reach a fever pitch as he reviewed your file again. "Then what's with the name?" he asked, "you lie about that too." You let out a laugh as you explained, "People have nicknames and mother's maiden names, John." As you sat back in your chair and crossed your legs, Price wondered what he had done for the universe to gift him you.

soap

Despite your initial reservations, Johnny was quite good at keeping your occupation vague and nonchalant in conversation. You were honest about your work in central intelligence and he took that secret to the grave. Your long-distance relationship was written off as you working in some company in DC and no one batted an eye at your occasional inference at military strategy or surveillance techniques. When you returned home, you would always be sure to show him extra appreciation for his covertness. "Tryna make me patriotic?" he would joke before you would kiss him and stifle his laughs.

However, he loved testing your skill set and seeing if you were as trained of an operative as your file read. "Let's see what they teach you over there, Bonnie," he joked as he lined up his sights at the air gun range. You refrained from kicking him as you stood back to watch him. You almost let out a laugh when you saw his small pellet ricochet just slightly off target. "Hmm and that's why Ghost is your long-range weapons specialist," you teased as he got up and switched positions. You breathed in as you looked down your sights and positioned your rifle towards the farthest target on the range. "You Americans, always so fucking cocky," he muttered under his breath before you quickly shut him up with a quick shot directly into the center of the target. The metal hen spun around widely at your expert marksmanship and you exhaled your held breath. You stood up and tried to size up your tall boyfriend. "Best 2/3?" you offered and you smiled as he kissed your forehead before ushering you out of the way to try again. "Fucking CIA training," he whispered as he got into position again. "You say something, you glorified sergeant?"

gaz

It was 4 am when you arose from the bed and leaned into Kyle, taking in his warmth and seeking refuge from the cold London air. You could always rely on your boyfriend to be your human-sized space heater. As you laid your head across his chest, you could feel him stir lightly. "Time to go already, love?" he asked with his eyes still closed and you muttered in confirmation. You always knew what challenges came with living so far away from the States but you had someone who made it all worth it. He kissed your forehead lightly as you rolled off the bed. You tried to quietly make your way to the bathroom to let him get some more hours of precious sleep but upon your return, it was clear Kyle was more awake than before.

"You sure you don't need me to drive you to the airport?" he offered yet again as you dressed quickly in dress slacks and a blouse. "MI6 is sending a car," you explained as you collected your overnight bag, "just try to get some sleep, my love. I'll text you when I land in Langley." Despite your soft kiss on the cheek, Kyle still pouted as you pulled away. "Don't understand why you can't be a liaison officer for us," he mumbled but you ruffled his hair slightly. "When the position becomes available, I'll be the first application on there," you smiled, doing a final check of your things, "just tell Price to write me a hell of a recommendation letter." With that, you shared another long kiss as you slightly cringed at his morning breath. "I'll be sure to say hi to the cybercrime analysis team for you, hopefully, they'll actually take my advice this time," you laughed before exiting out of your apartment and embracing the cold English air you had grown to love.

ghost

When the question arose of your occupation, you would always smile and defer to being just an "American government worker." However, you always knew Simon had more than just an inkling as to your occupation. When you spoke about military strategy, and combat techniques, or even had various conversations in different languages over the phone, it was clear to him that you were more than just a civilian. The shock didn't even resonate with him when you uttered the words, "Paramilitary Operations Officer," it all seemed to fall into place. He wouldn't bat an eye when it came to long stretches of days that you were in minimal contact with him. "I'll be back," you would reassure as you pulled on a dark hoodie and headed out the door with a bag. Simon would always be there to clean your wounds and ice your bruises.

It was a shock when Simon hadn't heard from you in a month. You had left in the middle of the day in a black Mercedes that disappeared off the English skyline. It was the unfortunate timing that he had been on leave when you left and there had been no word from Price regarding a new mission. Every morning, he would turn over in your king-sized bed expecting to see you smiling back at him. However, the days dragged on without any information meeting his ears. You could practically still picture his terrified face when you turned the key into the door and slammed your bag down. Simon paused upon seeing your blackened eye and wrapped knuckles. The eye bags on your delicate face further added worry to the situation. "Don't ask," you whispered as you fell into his chest, "intel was shit." That was all Simon needed to lift you gently and place you back on the couch. As he held you in his arms with an ice pack to your eye, you slightly pulled away from his touch. "I promised I would come back, didn't I?"

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lolottes · 5 months

Text

the joker were (finally) killed.

So many souls found rest at that moment that the gates of paradise (?) were visible. The population of gotham was initially worried that after everything he had done the joker would have access to such a place! But no, more neutral doors and certainly more infernal connotations were also shown (after all, the joker didn't only kill innocent people)

but the bats were the first to notice that the joker has not been seen passing one of the many ephemeral supernatural doors, like some of his victims….

the second to "notice" was Danny Phantom, who was interrupted in his observation of the stars in his nocturnal patrol by very young ghosts and …

~*******~

three days later, the batfam (except red hood) found traces of joker activity and mounted an informed intervention on its apparent basis, while sending a request for help to all members of the JLD

But they arrived there (by breaking the windows) just in time to see a teenager suck the ghost (clearly visible?) of the joker in a machine with sophisticated technology into a termos, a thermos that seems to have seen better days ...

Danny: .... I can explain?

Batman: grhum (I'm listening)

Danny: but I don't have time, have a good end of life ~ (does the disappearance meme)

bonus scene:

observant: now that you were avenged, that your killer is dead, you have to follow us. And if you can leave your pulpits here and stop being a dirty some kind of abomination, that would be appreciated

Jason: …get out of my house starts drawing flame swordprem

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idksmtms · 3 months

Text

The Only Way... (District Mentor!Aemond Targaryen x Tribute!reader)

(first Aemond pic was found on tumblr and edited by @kyloremus)

AN: Huge shoutout to @valeskafics for inspiring my HoTD x Hunger Games stories. Without her, I would never even have thought to connect the two. Highly HIGHLY recommend her writing! - Also, yes, I did pick a random HoTD name for the male tribute, sue me -

Summary: There were only two past winners from your district, and one of them didn’t even bother with his mentor duties anymore. But this year, for one last time, Aemond decides to attempt to mentor one of the tributes, not expecting how it would change his life.

Word count: 6.5k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, slight age gap (I made the reader a couple years younger than him for story purposes), vague p in v s*x, oral f receiving, mentions of blood, discussions of death, discussions of trauma, discussions of disfigurement, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Aemond Targaryen was reaped for the Hunger Games in his first year of eligibility. At 12 years old he had been shipped into the arena, and he had won. Though he had lost an eye in the process, he deemed it a worthy sacrifice for getting out alive. He had been responsible for half the cannons that sounded in the arena, had gotten his revenge for the eye taken from him, and had emerged the victor. He strongly believed the world was against him at every turn, (how else does one explain getting reaped and losing an eye?) but he knew that he was strong enough to fight back against fate.

The first couple of years after his victory, he had attempted to mentor tributes alongside his own mentor, Rhaenys Velaryon. But each one had met their own gruesome end in the arena and eventually he had given up on his duties altogether, much preferring to stay in his home at the victor’s village with his family.

It’s not that he wasn’t a good mentor, he truly believed he taught them a decent amount in the short time he had with them, and that allowed them to live longer than they would have without him, but they all lacked his ruthlessness. He had a certain cold-hearted quality that allowed him to kill without batting an eye in the arena, and he could happily admit to it. Every single victor had either gone in with that quality already bred in their veins or they had built it in the arena. He wasn’t sure which side he fell on, but he knew he possessed it. After two or three years of watching kids he had gotten to know, most older than him, die at the hands of others who had been just like him, he had gotten tired and decided to step away. He knew Rhaenys could handle it, she had been doing it much longer than him anyway.

But this year, something felt different. Maybe it was the long speech his mother had given him about doing his duty, regardless of his own feelings. Maybe it was the thought that it was the last year of eligibility for his brother Daeron and he wanted to be there to ensure that if he was reaped he would at least have a mentor he knew. Whatever it was, he decided he would attempt mentoring one last time and do his utmost to make his tribute a victor.

A part of him was worried to start showing his face in public again. Though he was used to his eyepatch and he didn’t shy away from venturing out of the house if need be, this would put him directly in the limelight once more after many years. Everyone in Panem knew he wore an eyepatch, everyone in Panem had seen the initial wound he had been dealt, but he had kept away from the scene for so long that he felt self-conscious about his appearance. People would stare, people would be horrified, and- and he would just have to deal with it anyway.

On reaping day he put on his best suit, a beautiful two-piece made of fabrics of black and dark green and ventured into the square with his mother on his right arm and his sister on his left. He didn’t say a word to either as they entered the space and he left them to go stand near the back of the stage. Old memories of his own reaping day were flooding back in. The nervous energy that had thrummed through him, the sudden stillness of his body when they had called his name, his mother screaming and sobbing, pleading for it to be anybody else. Aemond closed his eyes and swallowed, ignoring the sudden pain that throbbed where his eye should be. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked across to where Rhaenys stood on the other side of the stage.

She was staring out at the gathering crowd with a blank face. Her hair was neatly braided at the top then flowed down her back in a white similar to his own. They were relatives, somehow, he could never quite remember the relation. He could see the signs of age on her face now, the wrinkles around her mouth had multiplied since she had last been here with him. Her dress was a deep blue, matching her eyes, and covered her arms until her wrists. He knew she bore scars on those arms from her own fight in the arena, but he felt a bitter pang of jealousy at how easily she was able to hide them. He would never have that luxury.

Aemond waited as the bustling died down and everyone was gathered in the square. He could see the lines of peacekeepers all over, their guns shining in the watery sunlight. He could see his brother standing among the men, a shock of white hair in a sea of brunettes and blondes. He wanted to smile at Daeron, to try and reassure him somehow that everything would be alright, but that was a lie and he would never be able to promise him that. Instead he looked away and began searching for his mother’s and sister’s faces as the anthem played and the formalities ensued. They were harder to find, but eventually he spotted his mother standing next to a girl in an emerald green dress. It was you.

Aemond was shocked for a moment to see that colour in the crowd. Everyone else was dressed in varying shades of grey, with the odd yellow popping out from somewhere in the crowd. Even his mother was more unique than most by wearing a completely black outfit, but you stood out like a flare. The dress was made of some satiny material and shined in the light. It was a relatively modest dress, with a collared neckline and short sleeves, the hem falling below the knee, but it was so… green.

Aemond stared at you, at your pretty hair and apprehensive eyes, posture straight but so tense he was sure your muscles must hurt. This must have been your last year of eligibility as well, he thought, you looked to be about Daeron’s age. Your name was populating that bowl, just as Daeron’s was, and he could understand the dread. You were so close to freedom, but if fate decided to be against you today, there was nothing you could do but face it.

“Alright! It’s now time to pick one young man and woman for the honour of representing this district in the next annual hunger games! Our courageous young man will be…” the brightly dressed capitol man reached his hand into the bowl and began mixing it around. Aemond silently prayed to the seven that he would accept anything, even his name being pulled again, as long as it wasn’t Daeron. He didn’t want to see the pain on his mother’s face if her youngest child was reaped. He didn’t think he could stand idly by if they picked Daeron. “Jasper Wylde! Come on up!” There was a moment of commotion as people looked around to try and find the unfortunate boy and eventually he stepped warily out onto the path made for the tributes. The capitol attendant clapped happily but no one joined in, watching with morose faces as he walked up to the stage and stood beside the bowl full of male names.

First Aemond breathed a sigh of relief. He truly did feel like smiling this time because Daeron was free. His family was finally free. They could live in their house in the victor’s village on his salary and die peacefully, a luxury. Then a wave of solemnity washed over him once more and he bowed his head slightly. He knew what it felt like to be reaped, he knew with what hatred that boy now stared at the bowl full of names, wondering why it was him and not the thousands of other names piled in there. No one should celebrate at this moment, a child was still being sent to his death.

“And now, last but not least, the ladies…” the representative hopped across the stage and shoved his hand into the other bowl. He swirled it around a few more times than he did for the boys, then picked a piece of paper right from the bottom. He slowly peeled it open and you could hear the way the paper stuck together slightly in the silence. “Y/n L/n!” Murmurs again filled the crowd but Aemond knew exactly who it was. You were the only one that didn’t move. People began turning and looking but you stood still. His mother gently rested a hand on your shoulder, whispering something in your ear. You turned to look at Alicent then tipped your head down in a swift nod. Then, back straight and head held high, you stepped through the crowd and onto the path.

You were a sight to behold. A girl in green striding down the path. A bright spot of paint on a white background. Aemond hadn’t realised his breath was held in his chest. Somewhere in the distance he could hear weeping, but you didn’t turn back. You stared at the stage and kept walking until you stood beside the capitol representative. It was only when you had gotten near that Aemond realised he could see your lip wobbling, that your hands shook like trees in a storm and tears made silent, shiny, tracks down your cheeks.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, here are our district’s tributes! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour…”

In the time the tributes were given to say their goodbyes to their families, Aemond took the opportunity to make his own farewells. He had already said goodbye to his father and Aegon who had stayed behind at the house during the reaping ceremony. His father was too ill to leave the house and it was Aegon’s turn to stay behind in case peacekeepers came asking for the health declaration. Though Aemond knew this wouldn’t happen as they were all here, and it gave Aegon a good excuse to laze around the house.

Helaena, Daeron, and his mother had been sad to see him go, though they took comfort in the knowledge that if no one else, at least he would return. Helaena shed a tear as she hugged him, making him promise to eat well and stay strong. Daeron’s goodbye was quicker, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want Aemond to see him upset or because he wanted to go celebrate his newfound freedom. He hugged Aemond quickly then dragged Helaena off to home, chattering to her about something or other.

Aemond watched his siblings walk away then turned to his mother who watched him with sombre eyes. She was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently folded his hands between hers. She looked down at them then back up at him with a sniff and he wondered if she was about to start crying.

“Take care of her, Aemond,” she finally said, voice quiet but firm. “Until the end, you must take care of her.” Alicent looked him in the eyes until he nodded before squeezing his hands lightly. She pulled him into a hug and gently rubbed his back. “She needs you, Aemond, and if anyone can help her, it will be you. Leave that boy to Rhaenys, hm? She can handle him, and he will do what he will regardless. But Y/n has potential to win. People may not see it, but I believe, and only you can get her there.” Alicent let him go and stepped back, blowing a kiss to her son and beginning to walk away.

“Wait, mother-”

“Time to go,” the capitol representative came up beside him and clasped his shoulder but Aemond was quick to shove him off. He couldn’t threaten a capitol citizen, but gosh was he close.

Aemond still had so many questions for his mother but he was being herded toward the train and she had disappeared among the buildings. He let out a sigh of dejection and allowed himself to be brought onto the train, sitting down in the lavish room and pressing his head into his hands. The eyepatch was digging into his skin and he just wanted to rip it off and itch at his scars. But he couldn’t, because he didn’t want to look at what was underneath, and he didn’t want anyone else to walk in while his face was completely bare. So he pulled the leather away just slightly and scratched at the edges then let it snap back into place. He stared at the floor as he tried to sort out the pieces in his head and come up with a plan. He always had to have a plan. That’s how he survived his first games, and that’s how he would survive his last.

The doors to the compartment opened and Rhaenys walked in, her dress swishing around her ankles. He stood to greet her and she smiled, a small dejected thing that was as pathetic as he felt. She walked over to the bar and poured herself a glass of sweet alcohol. He remembered the taste from his first train ride, sickly sweet to the point of pain then fiery as it slipped down your throat. One taste had been enough for his whole life.

“I see you’ve returned to your duties,” Rhaenys said, voice full of mirth as she sipped from her glass. Aemond nodded, watching as she sat down on a plush velvet chair. He followed suit, sitting opposite her across an ornate glass coffee table.

“Yes, one last time,” Aemond replied simply, turning away from her to stare out the window as the train began to move. “I have a request, concerning the tributes.”

“Oh?” Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, lips pulling up into a smirk as she brought the glass to her lips to drain the rest of her drink. “Do tell.”

“I will solely mentor Y/n, and you can take charge of the boy,” Aemond said, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

“Why?” Rhaenys furrowed her brows and put the glass down on the coffee table.

“It will be easier on everyone, focus all your energy on one tribute and do what you can to get them to win.,” he shrugged, as if the answer had been there all along.

“Yes I know that, but why do you want to mentor her?” Rhaenys asked, and he went quiet, staring at her as he tried to think of his answer. All his mind conjured was the image of you walking to the stage, the green dress and the tear tracks.

“I’m sure you see the potential in the boy. He has muscle, he has experience from the mines which means he already has the brute strength that can be honed with skill, but I see potential in her. I’d like to see what I can do with it.” He stared directly into Rhaenys’ eyes and sat up straight.

Aemond believed what he said. If his mother saw potential in you, then so did he. He would do what he could to get you ready for the games, then he would do whatever he could to help you survive in the arena. The world was always against him, but if there was one thing he knew, it was how to survive. Now, he would make sure you did too.

“Alright, have it your way,” Rhaenys shrugged, and this time Aemond allowed himself to smile.

Aemond and Rhaenys walked through three train compartments before they found the tributes. You were sitting at the right wall on a purple velvet sofa, legs curled up under you, staring out of the window. Jasper was busying himself at the bar and the air was heavy with silence. Both of you refused to acknowledge the other, and Aemond cleared his throat to draw your eyes to him. You merely raised your eyes to them while Jasper made to rush around the bar as if they had caught him doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh don’t stop on our account, it’s only right you drink what you will before you die,” Rhaenys smiled genially, and Jasper had enough sense to look sheepish. “Alright, you come with me, I’ll be your mentor,” she pointed to Jasper then motioned for him to follow her before walking back out of the room. Jasper hesitated, looking around as if he was unsure what the protocol was, but Aemond just motioned his head to where Rhaenys had disappeared and Jasper jogged after her.

The room was quiet again. You had returned to staring out of the window, and Aemond slowly made his way over to the sofa you were sitting on. He left a seat between you and sat down, only turned slightly toward you. You finally tore your eyes away from the landscape and looked at him and he could see how red and puffy they were. Red veins crawled over the whites of your eyes and your nose was shiny and a pang of something painful hit his chest.

“Did you get to say goodbye?” He asked quietly, lacing his hands together in his lap. You nodded, gulping and opening your mouth once, twice, before a croaking voice spoke.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat before speaking again, “I only have my parents so… it was a quick goodbye.” Your lower lip began trembling and your whole face crumpled as you began to sob once more.

Aemond had seen tributes cry before, it was normal, but not this much. By the time they got on the train they usually gathered themselves up and began trying to concoct a plan. But you, you seemed to be completely lost to despair. Your face was the picture of pain, and you brought your knees up to your chest and rocked yourself slightly. His mouth turned down in pity.

“My mother bought me this dress,” you finally said through the tears, voice slightly blubbery and high-pitched as you began breathing in to calm yourself. You looked up to meet his eyes and he could barely make out your irises through your crinkled lids and the heaps of water pouring over your lashes. “She wanted to get me something special for my last year in the reaping and she spent a whole salary on the fabric. She toiled night after night, coming home from work to painstakingly stitch every piece together.” You gently caressed the fabric and smiled through the tears and somehow this sight was so much worse than the frown. Aemond’s chest clenched so tight he thought his heart might stop beating altogether. You let out a huff of a chuckle, a watery sound that was quickly followed by a sniffle as you pressed your hands to the fabric before looking up at him and directly into his eyes. Your own were open now, wide as they could go, serious as they could be.

“I know I can’t win. You know I can’t win. Everyone who watched the reaping knows I can’t win. I’m a girl who’s only skill is dressing pretty. So, Aemond Targaryen, tell me what to do?” You looked at him in earnest, as if he held all the answers, and for a moment Aemond began to question what his mother saw in you. What was this potential she spoke of? All he saw was a weak little girl who couldn’t even be bothered to believe in herself. But then he remembered your walk up to the stage, the strength with which you had held yourself even while you had cried. Now he understood what his mother wanted him to do.

“You think you can’t win.” He turned to fully face you and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “There’s more to the games than just surviving the arena. You’re good at looking pretty? Then you’ll survive the parade, you’ll excel at the interview, you’ll get sponsors and I’ll be able to help you for longer in the games with that. Not everything is about brute force and murderous intent. You’ll have some time to train before going into the arena, we can use it to teach you a few things. Don’t think about winning, just try surviving,” he watched you as he spoke, noting the way you seemed to breathe easier and your eyes seemed to lighten slightly. Your hands stopped trembling and you uncurled from around your knees, instead spreading your toes out over the plush fabric.

“Ok,” you breathed out, “I can try,” you affirmed, nodding to yourself, and he allowed you a small smile before becoming sombre again.

“I won’t lie to you, you will have to do things in the arena that will haunt you if you manage to make it out. The games are designed to turn you into an animal. Even if you go in there without the intention of killing, no one comes out unscathed. So, the real question isn’t about if people believe you can win. Are you willing to do what it takes?”

Aemond had thought about all the people he had killed for a long time. He remembered every detail about them, from district and family history to what they had looked like the moment life had finally drained from their eyes. He often thought about his final victim, the only person he had gotten along with before they had entered the arena. He thought of the way she had grabbed his wrist and forced the knife into her own stomach, the way she had smiled as she fell to the floor, the eternal smile as the cannon sounded and her blood warmed his hand. The realisation that he was alone in the arena.

When he saw the smile on your face as you wiped at your tears and brought your feet off the couch, nodding your head and repeating the word yes until you seemed to believe yourself, he thought of the final girl.

When you reached the capitol, you were separated and attendants led you off to… somewhere. You were stripped bare and forced into a roiling bath filled with all sorts of serums and scents and oils. Your scalp was scrubbed until you could feel each individual hair follicle growing and your skin was pink. They cut and polished your fingernails and toenails and waxed you all over until your skin burned. You were moved onto your stylist who greeted you with kisses on your cheeks before whirling you around to scrutinise your body. He had a gentle smile, and conversed with you all the while you stood on a pedestal in the middle of his room. He told you about the dress he had made for you, all the jewellery available to you and how you had the next few hours to prepare yourself for the parade.

You allowed yourself to revel in this one luxury. You loved to dress up, to wear fancy clothes and beautify yourself whenever you could. The opportunities had been few and far between back home, despite your parents doing their best to provide you with them. Even if you were going to die in a few weeks time, at least you could enjoy the luxuries offered until then.

Ursa brought out a garment bag and one of his attendants rolled in three carts covered in jewellery one by one. Ursa hung the bag up right in front of you and zipped it open, to reveal the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. “I watched the reaping and just knew what I would make,” he whispered as both of you stared at it. You brought your hand to your mouth and stepped forward to touch the fabric.

The dress was dark green, like leaves in the deepest, darkest, part of a forest. A sweetheart neckline with off the shoulder straps that led into long swaths of tulle that would flow behind your arms. Rhinestones were sewn into the fabric almost at random to look like sunlight falling onto the fabric. It had a long train that you knew would drag behind you on the ground and force the carriage behind you to keep at a distance. You realised how he wanted to single you out. The organisers would keep everything symmetrical, so the long gap behind you would mean there was a long gap ahead of you too. Spectators would be drawn to the sight of you two taking up so much space. You would be the centre of attention.

Ursa helped you into the dress and set the sleeves for you as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. It truly was made for you, each measurement perfect. All the effort Ursa had put into this… you began to tear up but he just hushed you and began fussing over the jewellery carts. He suggested putting a tiara on you but you were hesitant. It felt presumptuous to already wear a crown at the tribute parade.

“Darling,” he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look into his eyes. “Act like you’ve already won. Nothing else will make it easier, and nothing else will grab their attention more.” He slid the comb of the tiara into your hair and forced you to hold your head up high.

In the next few hours, you were draped with necklaces and bracelets and rings. Just before you were helped up onto the carriage, Aemond appeared at your side. You looked up at him and for a moment he didn’t say a word. He just stared at you, at the dress and the crown and the whole picture of finery. You couldn’t read what was in his eyes and you looked down nervously, trying not to shuffle back out of embarrassment.

“You look like a winner,” he finally said.

When training started, your confidence began to wane. You watched all the other tributes heft axes, shoot arrows, slice swords or destroy dummies with their bare hands. You watched other tributes practice building traps or gain strength in their legs for running. It felt like you were the only one starting from rock bottom. You wanted to yell at Aemond, to say “look! Look at my glaring lack of ability! Whatever belief you had in me must be dead!” But everyday he came back, dressed in black athletic wear ready to teach you something new.

He didn’t bother with any weapon bigger than a dagger, telling you it would only weigh you down. He made you run until you were sick for the first half of every day, then run some more. The second half was spent learning how to use the simplest of supplies to make traps or alarms. He would use rope or wire with a handful of leaves he had gathered from outside the facility. He taught you about plants and water sources and made you list every possible terrain and the best possible strategy to handle it before you could leave for the day.

Despite the intense rigour with which he attacked your training, he was endlessly patient. He listened to every complaint before forcing you back onto the treadmill. He rubbed ointment on your fingertips after you cut them on the wire but made you rebuild the trap. He made sure you ate a full meal but quizzed you about everything he taught you while you sat together. And on the nights when you missed home, when the world felt like it was ending and your mind could only play the sight of your mother’s face crumpled with tears, the sound of your father crying, he held you and whispered stories of history long past into your ears until you slept.

He had so quickly become everything to you. At times you thought about how only a little while ago he had been nothing but an image on a screen, a name whispered around town, and now he was your comfort, your nourishment, your whole life, your very soul. You tried to imagine doing this without him, and you simply couldn’t. You knew you would have given up a long time ago if he had not been there to carry you through.

As the time to enter the arena crept closer and closer, the training got harder and harder. It was on a particularly difficult day that you returned from the facility and began rummaging in your closet for your reaping day dress. You hugged it as you slept sometimes, imagining that you could still smell the faint scent of your mother’s perfume on it. But it wasn’t there. You threw out every scrap of cloth that the capitol had provided for you, opened every drawer and pawed through every nook and cranny like a desperate mouse searching for food. It was nowhere to be found.

Aemond heard all the noise coming from your room and decided to venture in to figure out what was wrong. He found you sitting on the floor in a pile of underwear and training gear, hair still wet from the shower and tears streaming down your face. You were sobbing quietly, shoulders hunched forward and body bobbing slightly with every hiccuped breath. Your hands were clenched in the clothes you were surrounded by and he could see the chaos that had occurred. Aemond knelt down beside you and gently unclasped one of your hands from the clothes.

“What’s happened?” He asked quietly, softly touching each one of your fingertips where they were still red from working with the metal wire.

“My dress is gone,” you whispered hoarsely, looking up at him with big teary eyes. You looked like a child then, the way Daeron had when he used to fall down outside the house and cry until mother soothed his cuts and bruises. Aemond reached up and collected a tear with his thumb.

“They must have taken it for a wash, I’ll call down and find it,” he soothed, wiping the tear on his pants before repeating the gesture on your other cheek.

You continued to stare up into his eyes, and he let go of your hand to cup your cheek. He moved closer until his nose gently touched yours. You closed your eyes and waited, feeling his breaths brush over your lips. You waited and waited but he still didn’t kiss you. You opened your eyes again and he was staring at your face with such pain, such sadness that it crushed something in your chest.

Aemond had never felt such guilt for loving someone. He had happily loved his family and happily loved the one girl who had kissed him while they were still in school (though that had ended quickly). But here, with you, he felt the crushing weight of helplessness as he looked upon your face. He loved you, yet he could do nothing to get you out of this. He loved you, yet all he could give you were a few days, a few kisses, mere moments before everything was thrown into the air.

You leaned forward and slid your hands into Aemond’s hair. You pressed your lips to his mouth and gently kissed him then pulled away. You did it once more, staying just longer than a peck then pulling back. Then he was kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth and leaning over you so your neck tilted back. The tip of his nose pressed into your cheek and he kissed your lips like they should be cherished.

You pulled away and caressed his cheek, smiling then gently bumping his nose with yours. He smiled back, huffing out a sad little chuckle. You pressed your nose and mouth to his cheek and kissed him before mumbling against his skin.

“Thank you, for everything.”

It was your final night. Tomorrow you would be tossed in the arena and expected to survive for the entertainment of the capitol citizens. While you had done well with the parade, and people had immensely enjoyed your interview, you had scored appallingly low on your assessment. Aemond told you not to worry, that it was a good thing for people to underestimate you, they wouldn’t worry about killing you first because they believed you would end up dying on your own. You at least had cover for now.

You had eaten in silence, all four of you gathered for your last supper. Jasper had talked and talked, asking last-minute advice and making commentary about the other tributes, but you felt like any energy you might have had before had been completely zapped away. You drank three glasses of water, then walked to your room without a glance back, sitting in your bed to wait for Aemond to come to you.

It was as you began to doze off that he stepped into your room, the lights dimmed and casting shadows over his face. He walked over and sat in front of you on the bed, reaching over and gently caressing your head for a moment. You didn’t speak for the first few moments, what could you really say? Aemond cleared his throat.

“Don’t run for the cornucopia, just run for cove-”

“No advice please,” you interrupted, “not tonight. Tell me everything you can tomorrow morning, speak to me even as I’m being lifted away, but not tonight.” He nodded and shifted closer to you, watching as you reached out to hold his hands. “Will you show me?” You finally asked, and his heart stopped in his chest.

He knew what you were asking for, but somehow this still terrified him. It was… grotesque, horrifying, and a million other gruesome words. What would you say after seeing it? Aemond gulped and turned away from you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“When he slashed my eye, that was the most pain I had ever felt in my eye,” he began, voice rough. “Rhaenys sent me bandages and I was able to keep it wrapped up until the end of the games, but after I was lifted out, they took me straight to the hospital. I was delirious, but I remember the medics said there were a million things that could have gone wrong. I was lucky it wasn’t infected, and I was lucky they could perform surgery quickly.” Aemond closed his eye as he spoke but his fists were clenched on his knees. “When I finally woke up, blind in one eye, they brought me a mirror to show me their work. They said they were so proud, that not only had I been given the best care but they had made me seem truly capitol. You know what they did to my eye?” He snapped in your direction and you jumped. He stared at you with his one blue eye, unforgiving as steel. “They shoved a huge chunk of sapphire into the empty socket. There’s no eye in there, no cavity, not even scarred over skin. Every time I take off this eyepatch, the evidence of the games stares back at me. The thought that I have been forever changed by the capitol, disfigured by them in the name of beauty…” his chest was heaving and he had gone deathly pale. You reached over but he swiftly grabbed your hand, grip tight. He stared at your face, at the look of earnest care and pure love in your eyes, and slowly peeled away his fingers.

You didn’t make a sound as you gripped the strap of his eyepatch and lifted it over his head. You didn’t say a word as you looked upon the rough cut sapphire that sat where his eye should have been. All you did was lean over and kiss him, smiling against his lips and kissing him again. He pushed you onto your back and kissed you until you were breathless. He kissed over your neck, and after removing your nightgown, he kissed down your chest and over your stomach. He pulled down your pants and kissed you between your thighs until you could only call out his name. He kissed your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, and back up to your lips. He pressed into you for the first time, and you whined into his mouth. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he pressed into you once more. He did it again and again and again until you were overcome with pleasure. Then he did it again.

You stood beside the tube that would take you up into the arena. You couldn’t explain how you felt. Your entire body felt like it was thrumming but your mind was quiet. There were a million things you wanted to say, but not one word passed your lips.

Aemond had come down with you even though he wasn’t supposed to. You held tight to his hand and he didn’t say a word. He had spent the morning rapidly telling you things you were sure you would forget the moment the horn went off. He had stopped occasionally to kiss you, to caress your hair and hold you until he started breathing normally again. But he could do no more. The countdown had started, and you had a minute before you had to get into the tube.

“You know what you’re doing, you can survive,” he said simply, holding onto your hands. But you only shook your head and hushed him.

“Aemond, if I don’t make it out-”

“Don’t say that,” he spat out, gripping your face in his hands, but you just shook your head as much as you could in his grip.

“If I don’t make it out, I want you to know how much I love you. I need you to know. It’s the only thing that will let me die peacefully in the arena. I’ll fight, and I’ll try and make my way back to you, but if it should happen that I can’t… I need you to know.” Your lip trembled and you smiled at him, nodding as if everything was fine and you would be back in a minute.

“I know, I know, of course I know,” he whispered, pressing his lips so tightly to yours that when you pulled away they throbbed. “But you…” he gulped and shook his head and you saw the tears begin to collect in his eyes. “You just make it out,” was all he whispered, and kissed you again.

He kissed you until you had to rush to get into the tube. He stood by the glass as the final countdown began, ten seconds ticking by faster than they ever had before. And just as you began to rise, hands slipping against the glass, he mouthed ‘I love you,’ but he didn’t know if you had seen it.

Endnote: I truly believe Rhaenys would win the shit out of the hunger games

369 notes · View notes

shina913 · 5 months

Text

Breakfast (Part 2) | KMG

Breakfast, Part 2

Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Established relationship; domestic au; smut; little fluff

Warnings: porn with a tiny bit of plot; cussing; fingering; penetrative sex; unprotected sex in a committed, monogamous relationship

Word count: 1.8K words

Summary: Mingyu has to leave for work but gets sidetracked.

A/N: This is a sequel to this initial story but you don't need to read it before diving into this. The first part just provides a little context. Anyway, this is nothing but horny word vomit and I blame Mingyu. Please send your complaints to him. Kthxbye.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

You smelled the coffee before opening your eyes. “I’m going to kick your ass if it’s not at least 7:30AM.”

You just returned from a long holiday week, spending time with each other's families. You decided to fly back a day early so you could both recharge before going back to work. That included sleeping in.

Mingyu’s boyish laugh was enough to make your toes curl. “Close enough,” he replies.

You opened one eye, then the other. As your vision clears, you are greeted by the sight of him, crouched by your bed, dressed in his suit. He looked so delectable in it.

Since your less-than-ideal chance meeting the morning after your respective one-night stands, you have gone on a few dates and discovered that you enjoyed each other's company, with and without clothes.

He rises from the floor and then settles on the edge of the bed, looking apologetic. “I got a call this morning and they need me to come in today. I wanted to let you know that I made you breakfast before I headed out.”

Cooking was his way of apologizing for spoiling your day off together. You didn't really have anything specific planned, except you wanted to reclaim some quiet time that you missed while your family was around.

You sit up and lean against the headboard while Mingyu hands the mug to you. His eyes are fixed on your cleavage, barely covered by a worn-in tank top that you had on.

“Points for the bedside caffeine.” You accept the mug, blowing on the piping hot beverage before taking a cursory sip.

“So sexy,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your hardened nipple through the thin material.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine but you cheekily swat his hand away. “Hey, don’t distract me. I thought we were supposed to have our day today,” you frowned.

“On the contrary, I think you’re distracting me. Very effectively, in fact.”

You eye him in his suit, then hum in agreement. “I know the feeling. Anyway, do you have to go in? Can’t you log in from home?”

He sighs softly before explaining why he has to go into the office. “A couple of projects need some senior staff oversight. It’s just a couple of meetings, then I’ll come right back in time for lunch. I promise!” He plants a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and gives you his cute, puppy-eye look.

How could anybody resist that? Your face visibly relaxes, quelling your annoyance.

You take another sip of your coffee and gaze at him appreciatively. "Have I told you how much I love seeing you in a suit?”

His suit was bespoke, and his shirt and tie were perfectly coordinated. While most suits simply enhanced a man's appearance, Mingyu took it to another level that could be considered illegal.

“Yes, you tell me all the time,” he purrs.

You lean in and run your fingers over his tie. “Is this new?”

His eyes track the motion of your hands. “It is. Why?”

"Feels nice. I can't keep my hands off it." Thoughts of him wrapping it around your wrists come to mind, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. You hoped you were discreet enough that he wouldn't notice the movement under the sheets.

The faint twitch in the corner of his mouth and his raised eyebrow indicated otherwise.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

You bat your eyes at him innocently. “I’m just…admiring the tie, that’s all.” You release it then smooth it over his chest.

He takes a beat, then stands up and takes your mug, placing it on the nightstand. Next, he catches the edge of the sheet and tosses it aside in one smooth motion.

“Lie down, spread your legs.”

You obey, pulse quickening as you slide down to your back. You had to admit that your state of undress compared to his being fully clothed—especially in one of his sexy suits—was wildly exciting. It created this power advantage for him that was a serious turn-on for you.

“Are you wet?” His tone was dark and dangerous. It excited you.

“Why don’t you find out?” You teased.

His jaw ticks, and he narrows his eyes at you. Whenever Mingyu looked at you like that, you grew more eager by the second. He hooks his finger on the waistband of your panties and starts pulling them down. You raise your hips slightly to assist him in removing them.

Once you were exposed for him, you allow your thighs to fall open. He strokes a finger through your folds, gliding gently over your clit.

“Getting there.” Cupping you in his palm, he met your gaze. “We should rectify that.”

You knew he had important business to attend to and it would be irresponsible of you to make him late for work. But he knew that whenever you were needy for him, he would prefer to take care of you first.

“W-what about your meetings?” You shivered as the tip of his finger circled your opening, teasing you further.

“They’re cutting my vacation short. I can afford to show up a few minutes late.” Eyes glittering, he slid a finger ever-so-slowly inside you, making you sigh and your eyelids flutter.

“Hmm...” you crooned.

“You like that?”

Something about his gentle ministrations left you speechless for a moment.

He added another finger and went deeper, making your muscles clench in response while heat swept over your skin.

Bending over you, Mingyu lowers his lips to yours. While you enjoyed his mouth between your legs, kissing him like this gave you just as much pleasure. You moan against his kisses while his fingers massage you inside and out.

The pleasure of his touch sends goosebumps racing up your arms. You pull your shirt up to your chin, clutch your breasts in your hands, squeezing and pulling on your nipples.

He lifts his head and takes a glance at you. “You look so fucking hot right now.”

Shamelessly, your body writhed as you rode his plunging fingers.

His mouth slides over to your jawline, then moves to your chest, nudging your hands aside with the tip of his nose. He bites down gently on a nipple before wrapping his lips around it, suckling softly.

“Ahh…more,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he smiled against your skin.

“Please, I want your cock in me,” you begged.

“Need to make you cum this way first.” His tongue curled around your other nipple, flickering teasingly over it.

You’re dizzy with arousal but mildly aware that his fingers stop moving in and out of you. After working you into a frenzy, he begins to apply soft but steady pressure against the roof of your core. His efforts give you that all-too-familiar tingling buildup within you, making your belly tense up in anticipation of what’s about to happen.

“F-fuck, yes…yes, right there! Don’t stop,” you choked out. He obeys and concentrates on the spot you’ve directed him to. Everything in you tenses like a coiled spring until you find yourself teetering over the edge.

“I’m…c-cum—“

With one definitive curl of his fingers, your thighs quiver before you feel a warmth rush out of you, dripping into his palm. You let out a long, stuttered moan while he continued to massage your flesh, intent on coaxing all the pleasure out of you. Your hands grip on his shoulder until your climax eases.

“Atta girl,” he smiled.

You open your eyes and your gaze wanders over to the bulge in his pants. "We should take care of that. Can't have you walking into the office in that state.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Whatever you want.” You bite down on your lip and palm him through his pants. He would love to fuck your mouth, but not when he’s in a rush. His thoughts are interrupted by his watch buzzing. He briefly checks the screen before turning his attention back to you.

“But if we don’t have time…”

“Get on all fours, now,” he ordered.

“Are you sure—”

“Now.” He says more firmly.

You scramble and shift on the mattress to get into position, ass up in mid-air for him. His hands steady your hips, angling you just right to make you both feel good. His fingers graze the tender flesh between your legs, checking if you were still wet from your orgasm—which you were.

Not long after, you feel the delicious stretch in your center.

You both let out gruff sounds of pleasure when he pushes into you. He pulls out just a little, then slides back in slowly. You press your face deep into the mattress, relishing the feeling of his cock massaging the bundle of nerves deep within.

Finding his rhythm, he fucks into you, thrusting in a steady pace. You claw at the sheets, moaning helplessly.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Your legs shook on a particularly deep downstroke. There was nothing else you could do but take whatever he gave you: the rhythmic slide and pull, coupled with the sounds of his hunger that escaped his lips. The scrape of his pants against your thighs told you he had pushed them down only far enough to free his cock, a sign of impatience that turned you on wildly.

One of his hands left your hip, moving to your front to rub circles over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you cry out while writhing in his grip. Over and over, he plunged into you repeatedly until your body hit its limit.

You came with a scream, quivering as your orgasm took over your senses.

His thrusts turn harder, raw grunts and moans spilling from him while you offer no resistance as he chases his own climax.

You feel his thighs slam against yours, then he shudders. His neck arches and he gasps your name. His face twists in agonized pleasure, eyes losing focus as he emptied himself into you.

He pulls out of you gingerly and you both collapse side-by-side onto the mattress.

“Let me just say,” he pants, “this was not what I had in mind when I brought you coffee.” He presses a quick kiss to your slicked forehead. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You giggle and curl into him while he wraps an arm around you in response. You catch a glimpse of the time from his watch. “Shit. Now you’re super late,” you grimace. “I’m sorry.”

He laughs huskily. “I’m not! I got an email alert saying that the client rescheduled the meeting and pushed the deadline back.”

You scrunch your face in confusion. As far as you’re concerned, you were both busy fooling around for the last half hour. “When did you get that email?”

“Right before I told you to get on all fours,” he says mischievously.

And now, you realize that you vaguely remember him glancing at his watch before he fucked your brains out.

“I’m off the hook! So we can have our day after all,” he beams.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Is there anything you want to do? I mean, you know, after we get cleaned up?” He chuckles.

You pause to think. After a few seconds, you declare, “Definitely–breakfast first! I worked up an appetite after all that.”

He guffaws at your response. “That’s my girl!”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @roaminginthenights; @midnightagust ; @btsgotjams27

#mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #seventeen fanfiction #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fanfic

389 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 2 months

Note

If your still doing request, maybe Y/N is crushing on Melissa, and leaves her a secret admirer gift on Valentine’s Day, due to wanting Melissa to be happy/have some happiness after the whole Gary disaster.

stop i loved writing this one! thank you for the prompt! As per usual: not edited in the slightest and praying it's good enough!

When There is Love, There is Life...

WC: ~4.7k

Since Melissa broke up with Gary, she’s been… not herself. She’s been down and out, quiet, resigned. She doesn’t have her usual fire or bite that you’ve come to know and love. And you completely understand why. She was with Gary for a couple of years, and she was perfectly content with him (as much as that pained you to see). The redhead could see her spending the rest of her days with him as a boyfriend, life partner… whatever you wanted to label it as so long as that label wasn’t “husband”. She made that very clear. And then, like a fool, he went and ruined it despite the fact that she had told him she didn’t want to get married again. He proposed, and he lost her because of it. In that, she lost a piece of herself.

It didn’t help that Valentine’s day was just around the corner either. Perfect timing for a breakup that would be humiliatingly public and change her life more than she was willing to admit.

So when she isn’t quite herself, you understand why. Everyone at the school understands why she’s been different.

Your colleagues have all offered different supports for her. Barbara was there when she needed a glass of wine, Jacob and Janine were there when the second grade teacher wanted to cook for someone, Gregory had taken her to a kickboxing place where she could get her aggressions out, Mr. Johnson brought in bunch of old plates and bowls for her to destroy in any way she would choose (she chose her emotional support baseball bat), even Ava was able to help by taking her out to a club to dance.

What had you done? Not much else other than offer her gentle words of support and provide small, sweet gestures to remind her that she had a village to help take care of her. You promised her that it was all going to be okay. You gave her small, shy smiles when you felt that she needed one, and she had even come to you for a hug one day when she was in desperate need of physical touch and her work wife had taken off a bit early to attend a doctor’s appointment with her husband. If you noticed that she was dragging, you would take it upon yourself to make another pot of coffee and bring her a mug of the warm beverage just the way that she liked it prepared.

You were there for her in ways that were small to you, but they made the biggest differences to her. While she surely appreciated the things that everybody else did for it, it was a bit of a one and done kind of deal to offer their supports initially, but your kind and thoughtful actions carried on as the days passed on. It made her feel taken care of in a way that she hadn’t felt in a while, even when she was with Gary.

“Any plans for Valentine’s day?” Jacob asks the group one day during lunch, and you can see the way that Melissa’s face immediately turns solemn. You knew that her and Gary were going to go out to a nice steakhouse on the fourteenth, but that plan was obviously shot now that they weren’t together.

“Gregory and I are going out to BoneTown together since we’re both single,” Janine jumps in. “It’ll be… nice.”

“Nice,” Gregory hums. “Yeah.”

“Zach and I are going out to this one new tofu spot that I’ve been dying to try,” Jacob grins. “It’ll be good. Then we’ll probably head home and have a few glasses of wine before retiring for the night… What about you Barb?”

“Gerald and I are going back to that one restaurant at the airport that we liked so much last year,” Barbara tells the crew. “Melissa, you know you’re always welcome to join us.”

“I ain’t gonna crash your Valentine’s Day plans with Gerald,” she sighs softly. “I’ll Probably finish off a bottle of wine on my own. Don’t got much else to do these days.”

You lay a gentle hand over hers and attempt to pour as much comfort and love into that small gesture as you can. “I don’t really have plans either,” you shrug. “So if you want, we can have Galentine’s day and finish off a bottle of wine together.”

The redhead gives you a sad smile. “Thanks for the offer, hun.”

As the days leading up to Valentine’s Day come and go, you see the way that the rest of your colleagues get small little gestures from their partners. It’s sweet- it isn’t just one day to go all out and celebrate love, but instead a reminder that love is always around and that there should always be an appreciation for your partner through life. Even Gregory and Janine have gone back to flirting, and he’s doing small little things for her.

As Barbara gets a small bouquet of flowers delivered to her in the break room, you see the way that Melissa’s body deflates.

“Wow,” she whispers. “Those are gorgeous.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You really don’t know how to make her feel better through this one, so you simply top off her coffee with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder.

She reaches up and sets her hand over yours with a sad, resigned, smile.

When lunch is over, you head back to your classroom with your kids and give them five minutes to regroup themselves before you begin your lessons again for the rest of the day.

And in those five minutes, you research different flower arrangements that you could possibly send to the redhead who is so down this season. You’re able to find a site that you like, and you bookmark it for later when the kids have gone home and you actually have time to go over the different selections that this place has to offer.

The rest of the day goes by relatively normally, with the slight hiccup of Jamal spilling his juice all over himself and having to go down to the nurse to get another change of clothes while you get on your hands and knees to wipe up the mess with the paper towels that never seem to absorb anything but only spread the liquid around instead. With a sigh, you simply throw a rather large wad of paper towels over the area and give up, telling your students to be especially careful in this area.

The kids leave for the day, giving you lots of hugs and thanks for teaching them that day, and as you see them out, you see the way that Melissa’s kids are doing the same to her. It warms your heart to see that beautiful smile that you haven’t seen quite as much of lately. She looks up, making eye contact with you with this emerald eyes of hers, before giving you a gentle smile and a nod of her head. She’s telling you she’s okay, at least right now. You give her a thumbs up with a bright, warm smile of your own before returning your attention to the last few stragglers in your classroom.

Usually, the redhead and you leave the school everyday almost right after the bell rings to dismiss the final wave of students; but not today. Today, you have to stay after school to look over the different flower arrangements that you could potentially get Melissa. You settle down back at your desk in the front of your room and start looking at the pre-made arrangements before you hear a gentle knock on your doorframe. You quickly flip the tab to your emails before glancing up.

“Hey,” Melissa says softly.

“Hey,” you smile at her.

“You staying late tonight?”

“Yeah,” you sigh dramatically. “I have a bunch of emails I have to reply to, and I’m prepping for this round of conferences,” you lie. You’ve already finished most of your conference preparations, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh.” Her face drops, and you immediately feel bad. “Well, have a good night, Y/N.”

You stand from your chair and stretch, as if you’ve been sitting there for a while, even though she had seen you not ten minutes ago standing at your door with the kids. “I think I can spare a few moments to walk a pretty lady to her car though.”

You notice the way that her cheeks turn pink and she tucks a few hairs behind her ears shyly- it’s so unlike Melissa. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist,” you tell her as you make your way over to her and take one of her many bags for her.

The two of you walk out together and make small talk through the parking lot, exchanging a few words about your days, before you get to her car. She unlocks the door, and you open the door for her, gesturing for her to get inside. “My lady.”

“You’re too kind,” she says softly as she sets her purse into the passenger seat. You hand her her other bag and allow her to get situated before closing the door for her too.

“Have a good night, Mel,” you tell her. “And seriously, if you need someone tonight… because I know lunch was a little rough, please don’t hesitate to text or call. I always have my phone on me, and I’ll be there for you.”

Her eyes almost well with tears. They look a little glassy as she nods silently and turns her car on. “Thank you, hun. Have a good night too.”

With that, she pulls off out of the parking lot, and you head back into the school to continue looking at the different flowers.

You find two relatively small bouquets of flowers that you absolutely adore, but you want to do something special for her. So, and maybe this is overkill, you order three different arrangements: two smaller ones, and then one bigger custom one. She deserves to feel loved and special. You’ll give her the two smaller ones in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, and then on the big day, she’ll receive the specially made one for her. You just hope that she doesn’t find out it’s you who is giving her these flowers.

The next morning, you pick up the first flower order, and it’s perfect. It’s small, and sweet, and you know she’ll appreciate it. You print out a little note to go with it, knowing you can’t handwrite your note or she’ll figure you out right away.

You deserve to feel special, your note reads, you tie it to the bouquet with a little ribbon that you had brought into school, and you set it on her desk before she comes in for the day. Then you head down to the break room to brew a pot of coffee like you usually do and wait for the rest of your colleagues to make their way in.

Everyone has joined you at your selected tables to watch the news and drink your coffees when Melissa comes in, the flowers in hand.

“Wow, Melissa! Those are beautiful!” Barbara grins when she sees what the redhead is holding.

“They really are,” she looks back down at them, admiring them. The money you were spending was well worth it to see the happiness and spark come back into the redhead’s eyes, even if just for a few seconds. “I don’t know who they’re from though.”

She settles in next to you, her mug of coffee already prepared and waiting for her next to you, and you glance at the flowers.

“Wow, Mel,” you say softly. “They’re really pretty.”

“Was there a note?” Jacob asks.

“There was,” Melissa fiddles with it in her fingers, having untied it from around the flowers. She reads it out loud before sighing. “But there was no name attached to it.”

“Sounds like someone has a secret admirer!” Janine giggles. “Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!”

“Maybe it’s Gary trying to win you back,” the energetic second grade teacher suggests.

That makes Melissa think. Maybe it is. And you are not about to give yourself up, so you just set a gentle hand on Melissa’s shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“Whoever got those for you made a good choice,” you say softly.

The next morning, you execute the same thing that had yesterday with the other smaller bouquet you had bought, and again she brings them into the break room with her to watch the news. She looks so happy, it melts your heart. You’re so glad you can bring her some sort of happiness through this tough season of hers, even if she doesn’t know it’s you who is giving it to her.

“You deserve to feel loved,” Melissa reads the second note. “ But again, no name.”

And finally, one Valentine’s Day, you bring in the biggest bouquet that you had purchased. You can’t hide this one under your coat though, so when Mr. Johnson sees you walking in, you know you’ve been caught.

“Mr. J,” you plead as the two of you walk in the direction of Melissa’s classroom. “Please… don’t say anything. She doesn’t need to know it’s me.”

“I think she’d like to know who it is,” the janitor states.

“But I don’t want her finding out,” you say quietly. “I just want her to be happy and feel loved during this season, especially with the breakup being so new for her.”

“What do I get out of not telling her?” he questions.

You roll your eyes. You knew he would ask this question. “I’ll get you a gift card to buffalo wild wings- twenty bucks.”

“Make it twenty-five, and you got yourself a deal.”

“Fine,” you groan. “I’ll run out and grab it tonight, and you’ll have it by tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he pumps his fist in the air victoriously before leaving you to do your thing.

This bouquet already has a special note written with it, so you can just drop them off in her room without having to prep anything. You set the bouquet on her desk again before making sure the little card is visible. And then you practically sprint off in the direction of your own room. You really do have to get things prepared in there for the class party before you make your way down to the staff room like you usually do.

When you get there, everyone else is already there, including Melissa- and she has her flowers with her and the note.

“Y/N!” Janine calls you over. “You’re just in time to hear what Melissa’s secret admirer has to say about this bouquet!”

With eyebrows raised, you make your way over to the coffee pot to pour yours and the redhead’s coffee and make it up.

“When there is love, there is life, and you deserve it all,” the redhead reads softly, a smile on her face.

“Oh, that is so kind of whoever this is,” Barbara notes.

“Seriously! Those flowers are absolutely stunning,” Janine states.

“And I love that this person didn’t just go for a dozen red roses,” Gregory tells her. “All of these flowers mean different things, I don’t know if the person who got this for you knew that or not, but…”

“What do they mean?” Melissa’s interest is piqued.

Shit. You forgot Gregory loves any sort of plants- of course he would know the different meanings behind the flowers you picked out for your little crush.

“Well,” he says as he takes a closer look at the arrangement. “The yellow roses signify friendship, while the white ones mean purity. The yellow roses that turns red at the ends shows friendship turning into love. The pink carnations show that this person will never forget you, while the daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings. Hydrangeas show gratitude and deep understanding. And finally, the baby’s breath that is used to surround all of the other flowers shows innocence and hope.”

“Wow,” Jacob breathes softly. “That’s so… romantic.”

“If the person knew that’s what those all meant,” you say from your place next to Melissa. You knew all of this- you had done your research.

“So, what do you think this person is trying to say?” Janine asks, rocking back and forth on her toes.

“If I had to guess,” Gregory scratches the back of his neck. “This person is trying to tell Melissa that they started off as friends, but it’s turned into a pure and innocent sort of romance? Like they have a deep understanding that this is probably not the best time, but they will never forget her, they have hope for the future, and they are just grateful to have Melissa in their life in any way possible.”

Fuck. Gregory just said everything you were trying to subtly convey to the redheaded second grade teacher through flowers. Fuck. If she finds out it’s you… you’re screwed.

They don’t find out who you are today, and come the end of the day, you and Melissa walk out together as you usually do. She is happy, even doing a little dance as she leaves the building, holding the flowers closely to her. You’ve taken it upon yourself to carry the rest of her things for her, despite her protests.

“You have to make sure those flowers get home safely,” you chuckle as you wave her off. You place her things in her car before giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“I’ll see you a little later?” she asks.

“I’ll be there to enjoy some delicious Italian made by my favorite person,” you tell her. “Am I bringing red or white tonight? Maybe a bottle of champagne?”

“Chianti,” she tells you. “And maybe a dessert wine for after?”

“You got it,” you grin at her. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

When you knock on her door, you can hear her having a very loud conversation over the phone.

“No, Gare,” she’s protesting loudly into the phone as she opens the door and invites you in. She holds up one finger, quietly requesting for a few minutes. “No! I do not want to get back together!”

“Then why did you call?!” he shouts back.

“Because I was tryna figure out who got me these flowers, and you’re the type of guy to make some grand gesture like this to get me back!”

“Well, it wasn’t me, but it sounds like you want to get back together!”

“I thought I made it clear, I didn’t!” She hangs up angrily before hurling her phone halfway across the room. It lands on the couch before bouncing off and hitting the floor.

“You okay?” you ask, although you very much know the answer.

“Fuckin’ men,” she shouts as she retrieves her phone and stuffs it into her back pocket. She takes a deep breath before looking at you. “I’m better now that you’re here.”

“Still haven’t figured out who your secret admirer is?” you tease.

“No,” she grumbles as she leads you into the kitchen. It smells amazing. “And it’s drivin’ me up a damned wall. Whoever this person is, I just want to know so I can thank them.”

You almost reveal yourself there, but you remember what Gregory had said earlier in the day, and you don’t want to make a fool out of yourself right now. So you just shrug and gesture for her to open the wine.

The two of you have a nice, quiet night in eating delicious food, drinking good wine, and then watching a few romance comedy movies together. It’s nice, it’s sweet, it’s pure… it’s domestic the way that she has a blanket draped over the two of you while you lay your head in her lap and she feeds the chocolate covered strawberries she had made for dessert.

But finally, you sigh. “I should probably get going with school tomorrow.”

She frowns. Melissa is clearly enjoying tonight with you, and you have to throw in the towel because of work tomorrow. “Yeah, I guess I should probably head up for the night too.”

You sit up with her help and start to grab your things. She watches as your figure sways back and forth, somewhat from the wine and somewhat from not having stood for hours.

“You okay?” she chuckles.

You shake your legs out. “All good. Don’t worry about me, Mel.” You make your way over to her once you have your bag around you. She stands and embraces you for a few minutes, and you allow her perfume to wash over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mel,” you whisper as you pull away.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, hun,” she smiles at you. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course,” you beam back at her as you head for the door. You make your way out and are halfway to your car before you hear the front door open again, and she’s calling out to you.

“Text me when I know you’re home safe?”

You spin around to give her a thumbs up with a goofy grin on your face before you climb into your car. She watches you pull off, and you make sure you remember to text her when you get home.

“I still don’t know,” Melissa says quietly in the break room the next day. “Did you see anyone Ava?”

The principal is drinking her hangover elixir, sunglasses still on her face. “Girl, you know I get here way after you guys… otherwise I woulda been all over this secret admirer stuff before today.”

“How hungover are you?” the redhead eyes the woman.

“Valentine’s Day? More like Valentine’s week. You know this entire week I’ve been wined, dined and-”

“Please, God… don’t finish that sentence,” Barbara cuts off Ava. The principal just smirks.

“But, if you really are curious, maybe we can see what flower company was delivering these to your room to figure out who this admirer is,” Ava grins.

“And how the hell are we gonna do that?” Melissa looks at her incredulously.

“Girl, I got cameras all over this joint,” the hungover woman grins. “Come down at my prep. I’ll be less hungover, and feel more inclined to help.”

“Thank you, Ava,” the second grade teacher looks mildly impressed with her boss’s willingness to help. “Hey, has anyone seen Y/N yet today?”

“Her car wasn’t in the lot when I pulled in… weird,” Jacob hums.

You rush in frantically. “Hey, hey,” you wave. “Sorry I’m late… got a flat tire, had to change it on Girard, and then got stuck in some traffic.” You make your way over to the sink to clean off your dirty hands.

“Girl, you ain’t late,” Ava laughs. “You’re still twenty minutes early.”

“Why were you on Girard?” Melissa questions. “You usually come from the opposite direction.”

The truth is, you had to go pick up that gift card you promised the custodian for keeping your secret, but you can’t tell her that.

“Late for me,” you sigh, ignoring the redhead’s question. “You know I like to get here at least an hour in advance to prep for the day. Now, because I’m late, I’m gonna have to skip out on watching the news with you guys, but let me know if there’s anything worth hearing about.”

You slip your lunch into the fridge (leftovers from last night) before dashing out to your classroom.

On your way to your room, you hand Mr. Johnson his promised gift card, and he grins. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” you tell him earnestly before going into your room. Only then do you realize that you entirely forgot to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You get that mug of coffee about twenty minutes later, after the news segment is over and your colleagues are heading back to their classrooms. You hear a gentle knock on your doorframe, making you look up. Melissa is standing there with two mugs filled to the brim with coffee.

“Thought you might need this,” the redhead chuckles as she hands the mug to you. You let your fingers wrap around it, and the warmth radiating from the cup and from the sweet gesture sooth your somewhat frazzled soul right now.

“Thank you,” you smile at her before taking a sip.

“Of course.”

Your morning goes by with no hitches, and you silently thank God for that as you walk your children down to the music room. You don’t think you could handle another crisis today.

Melissa gives you a small smile and wave as she also takes her class to their special- gym class. You hear her tell her little eagles to behave before she heads into the office. That’s odd; the two of you usually spend your preps together, but maybe she has a meeting with Ava or has to make copies and she’ll be down to your room after.

“Hey,” the redhead knocks on Ava’s door and makes her way in.

“Girl, you gotta see this,” the principal leans back in her chair and turns the monitor for Melissa to see more easily.

When the redhead gets to where she can see the screen, Ava already has the security footage up and on the camera that is in the hallway to where your rooms are. She sees you heading into her own classroom- the first small bouquet of flowers in your hand. The principal fast forwards to the next day around the same time, and there you are with the second small bouquet of flowers. And then she fast forwards to yesterday, and you’re chatting with Mr. Johnson while holding the gigantic bouquet of flowers.

Ava turns the sound on, and the redhead can hear you pleading to not give you up.

“Wow,” Melissa whispers. She bites her lip nervously. “Thank you.”

“I got you girl,” Ava tosses her hair over her shoulder. “What you gonna do about this?”

At that, the redhead purses her lips in thought. She doesn’t really know. “Thank her, I guess.”

As Melissa makes her way down to your room, she really doesn’t know what she’s going to do. But before she knows it, she’s at your door and making her way into the classroom. You look up from your computer to give her a bright smile.

“Hey,” you smile as you bring your coffee cup up to your lips and take a sip.

“Thank you,” Melissa says softly as she perches herself on your desk.

“For?” you raise a brow.

“The flowers,” she smiles as she reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder.

You blush deeply. “H-how?”

“Oh,” the redhead laughs quietly. “I have my ways… Ava has security cameras and we saw you putting them in my room.”

“Dammit,” you grumble.

“That was really sweet of you,” Melissa tells you quietly. “Thank you. Seriously.”

You turn a violent shade of red. “Uh, yeah. No problem. I meant what I said in my notes: You deserve to feel loved. You deserve to feel special. When there is love, there is life, and you deserve it all.”

“If you meant all that,” Melissa hums. “Did you… mean all the things Gregory thought you meant?”

If possible, you blush even more, feeling it spread from just your face to your ears and your chest.

“Did ya?”

You nod sheepishly. “But I know with everything that’s happened recently… and I really am just grateful to have you in my life, however that is.”

She gives you a gentle squeeze of the shoulder before leaning in and pecking your cheek softly.

You feel that spot burning, but you couldn’t be happier.

“I do like you, you know,” she says softly. “You being here is part of the reason I broke it off with Gary.”

“What?” your jaw drops.

“You’ve always been special… but I just don’t think now is a great time,” Melissa admits quietly.

You nod solemnly.

“But I think that with time,” she says quickly. “If you’re willing to wait… although I know that isn’t really fair of me to ask of you.”

“I’m willing to wait,” you whisper. “You’re worth it.”

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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chryblossomjjk · 1 year

Text

the weekend | jjk (teaser)

→pairing: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

→rating/genre: m/18+ | fwb?, angst, full fic will include smut

→word count: 618

→warnings: suggestive (as in building up to smut), some dirty talk, hair pulling, neck smoochies, lil lingerie moment, slightly dangerous moment in a car?, implied infidelity, smol appearance from bby yul (holds up ‘aww’ cue card)

→summary: Every weekend, you give Jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing Monday through Friday.

→notes: um long time no see i haven't posted any writing in a while so im v excited and nervy atm! had this teaser planned for a hot minute so yeah v excited to see your reactions! i don't have a set date when this will come out but hopefully soon. as for now, you can check out my masterlist if u wanna wink wink. also this fic will be v angsty so pls if thats not ur thing, skip this. ok love u bye !! feedback is appreciated v much uwu. also this is not beta’d obvi so if there’s any typos or goofiness rip im sorry :’(

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo; 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you bought just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, teasing tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so was being with a man like Jungkook. You’re incapable of rational thought when you finally get to have him the way you want. One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied.

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips. “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear.

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in, strong hand gripping your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is clenched painfully tight.

He’s pissed.

You know you should apologize, or be shaken up at the very least, but the blinking of his turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted.

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. You go in for a bite.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth into his skin. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically, his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug, but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel his entire life. Jungkook is an intelligent man. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a facade, and everything’s already been undone.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings.

The contact image would normally make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered, hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen, though, makes you sick to your stomach.

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling for you to shut up, before answering.

“Yes, Seulgi?”

2K notes · View notes

normal-internet-user · 5 months

Note

Sooooooooooooo~~~ I've got more DC brainworms. I have come to share. 🤲🏼

Picture this, wildflower. *throws arm around your shoulder, gestures to the empty space in front of us, envisioning* A young (eventual) bat!sibbie reader who has a very similar essence to Jason.

and I mean....... literally. a mini Jason. lmaooo listenlistenlisten — yn is a scrappy, free-spirited orphan who comes from the slums of Gotham; they've been here a while, only giving a noncommittal shrug and wry smile when inquired about any of it. same story for a lot of us 'round here.

—and wouldn't it just be hilarious if they came into the Batfam the same way Jase did? By STEALING 👏🏼 HUBCAPS. 👏🏼

except it don't gotta be hubcaps, yn is a ✨professional✨ and a 🔥savage🔥 and just straight up carjacked the Batmobile LMALAOAOAOO (they earn Jason's utmost respect right off the bat [BAT PUN 🦇]; Steph, Dick, and Duke are the runner-ups). Bruce probably gains a new neck vein but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued!

thennnnn you muck up when you give the slightest inclination that you know his secret identity bcz it'd be significantly more terrifying (read: hilarious) than if you were to fall victim to the cliche 'i saw something i wasn't supposed to and now I'm being taken hostage by these randos in masks and oh holy smokes it's actually multi-billionaire airhead himbo Bruce Wayne!? and his KIDS!!??'

time skip because seamless transition, bing bada boom, they're Bruce's newest ward and filling the tabloids. while it may be a hot story that the entirety of the paparazzi froth at the mouths at, it's a different story behind the scenes.

reader has a sweet, dear personality at the core, but they put up a detached front; if anything, their crude humor and witty deadpan sarcasm attests to their harsh emotional walls put up.

it's nothing personal to these guys, they're just... constantly in self-perservation mode. they ain't never had nobody like this before, 'cept for their fellow street rat friends who're like family.....

I imagine those walls get worn down by Jason the most.

I also imagine Jason would be.... angry?? not at you!! never at you — if anything he'd probably steal you away from Bruce every chance he gets because he's scared you'll be readily thrusted into an unwitting role as a cowl-donner — but at Bruce's initial and seemingly impulsive decision to take you in- because of just how fast everything moved. he was a bit withdrawn at first, but he became undeniably protective over you as time went on.

you appreciate this earnestly; one day on your outings with Jason, he passes by the streets where you usually hung out with your friends. sure enough, they're all there, looking horrendously forlorn. you give out the group whistle- one you all made up and agreed on a longgggg time ago- and they all look at you like you're a ghost before you're being yanked into a group hug.

some of 'em are mad tho; they all caught wind, ever since you were printed in black and white on the newspapers lil' jimmy still brought to them fresh every morning. thought you ditched us for daddy warbucks. and some of 'em are genuinely happy, not only to see you, but had been for you. thought you managed to finally get outta this hellhole. we knew you wouldn't forget us, tho.

you're smart, yvette - your bestest friend ever since elementary - murmured as she hugged you so tight you could barely breathe. you're smart and warm and so kind... i'mma miss your candy apple self not being around me 24/7 any more, but heavens above, you made it, ynnie any foster parent would be blessed to have you as a kid, y'hear? anybody and everybody. she pulls you back and rests her forehead on yours, staring into your eyes with her tear-filled ones. don't forget 'bout us, yeah? we still got your back. stay safe and take care of yourself.

and if you silently cried on the way back to the manor, Jason didn't say much about it. just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and took you for burgers.

—i feel that incident would settle you deeper into Jason's heart. he just sees so much of himself in you. in this scrappy kid who puts up such a carefree front, but is actually made of honey and caramel at their center. who has such a strong emotional intelligence at that age that Jason's sure is the only difference between him and you. in this child, who has a pure heart full of love with so much to give and just wants to be loved in return.

reader's softest with Cass and Alfred, as in they feel no need to put up pretenses with them. it's how they both find out that you're perpetually jaded and reminiscent of a long-suffering lamb: soft, tolerant, brokenhearted, shreds of innocence swirling about their heart still, maybe a little lost......

SPEAKING OF THE GRANDLER HIMSELF 🌹🎉: you get roped into baking with Alfred one day, and because Alfred is the actual MVP, you fall into his affections too.

it's when you're kneading at dough when a crestfallen expression suddenly overtakes your expression.

"mr. alfred," you drawl, inner city accent thickening with the melting of your posture. there's a heaviness to your tone that wasn't there before. it catches the elderly man's attention immediately. "you remind me a lot of my old man. not my father, but there was this elderly gentleman who took care of us street urchins. old man peaches. cuz every time we saw him, he sold us fresh peaches from his little milk carton in trade for some colorful bottle caps. dunno where he got 'em, said he grew them out the cracks in the concrete, the geezer. he was always talkin' like that — like there was some deeper meaning to everythin'. we groaned all the time, made all in good fun of him right to his face, but we all really loved it.

"one day, me 'n yvette were scouting 73rd and maryanne avenue; it's the curve that has all those connectin' alleyways that hide the abandoned warehouses, y'know? it's also where we hid out with peaches. had a small space heater and brought anything we needed from the foster care buildin'. sometimes we'd get dragged back but you keep doing something enough times, them folks who don't get paid enough for it just stop givin' a hoot... so long s'we made it back for inspections and didn't pilfer the good stuff, y'know?

"anyway. we went in there hollerin' for mr. peaches... he was usually napping by the space heater or stringing bottle cap jewelry for us, but he wasn't there. searched the whole warehouse, whole perimeter, nothing.

"then, vettie found him... " you pause, a smile that didn't reach your eyes spreading your cheeks. "right by the compost bin outside the back door of that same warehouse, chest not movin' and lips stained with blueberries."

alfred feels his stomach drop, beside himself. you looked up from the dough in your hands and simply regarded the old man, an uncharacteristic nonchalance marring your features.

"he was the only one that really understood and looked out for us the way he did. i ain't been able to eat peaches or anything of the like since then, but vettie is the one who couldn't sleep for the weeks after."

Alfie had long stopped chopping the onions for the dish at this point and all he could think was what has this poor child gone through?

TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TR

anywaaaaayzzzuh, I'm exhausted BUT yeah I just want to infect you lovingly with the brainworms of Jason bonding with a bat sibling reader who's a lot like him, and how he'd prevent a lot of pain that they ain't gotta go through because he went through the same.

And the things that he CAN'T prevent, because everyone deals with trauma differently, he's always gonna be there for you. And he wants you to know that.

reader is a bit wary of Dick because of his pure bubbliness and aura of flowers 🌸🌺🌻🌹🌷🌼💐and shooting stars — in Gotham?? — but Dick has an affinity to troubled kids and also . he's Dick Grayson, everybody loves him .

so he works together with Jason and soon enough, you're practically his respective child akshdjdhd

you and dami take a bit to come along BUTTTTT I hc that you come into their lives when Dami's a little older and therefore more matured.

I love Damian, I feel he'd be a pretty solid older brother figure.

the more time you spend there, the more you begin to trust your newfound family. (well, your pseudo siblings at least); the more you let your walls down, the more they get a peek into your true self- not just the distant exterior you put up.

you're thoughtful and generous; you like books and animals and know how to make ice cream from scratch with ice and plastic bags; you're resourceful and crafty - you learned how to hot wire cars and pick locks from the older kids down at the foster care home - but you don't try to give anyone headaches for it out of respect for Alfred, you claim solemnly.

you're a good kid.

it just takes a bit more for people to say that, and even more for you to let others see it.

I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE BUT PLEASE NOTE THAT I WROTE THIS THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, CONTINUALLY PASSED OUT, AND IT'S THE FRICKIN MORNING ALREADY LMAOAOAOAOAOOO

OH MY GOD.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

ZEEP.

ZEEP WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME-

I just- Can I just-

If Brucie EVER tried to but reader in a cape Jason would lose his MIND.

How DARE you even THINK about putting the baby at risk? How dare you?

Totally just takes reader and brings them to his apartment until Bruce apologizes for even suggesting such a proposterous thing.

He's eventually forgiven but he's on thin ice okay?

Sleepovers at Jason's are also a very common thing.

Since he lives in the Narrows, it gives you the chance to roam your old stomping grounds and see your friends.

Poor reader has to go to all kinds of fancy dinner parties now.

Public appearences.

Such a drag.

Uncomfy clothes, and uncomfy people.

So, being the feral little street raised shit they are, reader says the most out of pocket freaky crap ever.

"Yeah, living in the Narrows as a kid was hard. Especially after the accident."

"Oh, yeah. I love my new home. The velociraptor in the backyard is a sweetheart."

"What do you mean Jason's supposed to be dead? He obviously got better. I've done it more than once. Yes I've died before. They said I can't tell you what comes after. Who's they? Don't worry about it."

And literally no one can say anything because their new dad is one of the richest men on Earth.

Also their first fancy gala something definitly went wrong.

Like lets says it gets targeted for some kind of robbery 'cus, ya know Gotham. And it's full of rich people.

Reader is literally like, "Fuck no. Get the hell out."

Grabs a bottle of champagne and breaks it over the ring leaders head with a loud shout of "ANARCHY!"

ALFIE AND OLD MAN PEACHES-

OH MY GOD I'M CRYING. I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M IN TEARS-

Also, the little punk stealing the CAR is hilarious. So much potential there.

Dick *interrupting Bruce for the upteenth time*: "Hey, B?"

Bruce *Severly annoyed*: "Yes, Nightwing? What is it?"

Dick: "Who's driving the car?"

*Que Jason wheezing over the comms*.

Dickie gives all kinds of nicknames.

Little wing, hoodlum, baby bird-

Him and Jason compete for your time.

Like there is an underground betting pool for who can get you to spend more time with whom.

Jason shows you all hid hidey places around the manor if you ever need a place to just- be

Tim helps with homework when Jason's not around (which isn't very often, Jason makes a point of visitiing often just to see you)

It makes for wonderful bonding with your busiest brother.

Damian, (though he will never admit it out loud), enjoys it when you join him in taking care of his animals.

Batcow and Jerry love you, and Alfred the cat has taken to sleeping in your room.

The two of you take Titus and Ace for walks, and Damian very smugly rubs it in Jason's face when a tabloid photo pops up of the two of you in matching sweaters and sunglasses.

"Clearly I am the superior brother, Todd. Even the media agrees."

"Well then I know it's bullshit because the media says it's true."

"Tt."

I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN INTO STEPH AND DUKE AND CASS AND BABS UGGHHH

THERE'S OTHER STUFF I wanna ADD BUT I'VE MADE YOU WAIT LONG ENOUGH I'M SO SORRY-

#normie rambles #normies moots #the brain worms are SERIOUS UGGHHH #I'm so sorry it took so long 🥲🥲#batfam #batfam x reader #civillian batsis #platonic x reader #jason todd #jason todd is best brother #dick grayson #x reader #dc x reader #dc comics #baby bat is an alley cat! (^U^)#i like that tag

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jnnul · 3 months

Note

I JUST READ THE DATING RINA DRABBLE AND DIED HEADASS……………… do u have any thoughts for dating ning? :3

word count: 933 words a/n: LMAOOOO that's so real anonnie that's me with ningrina on any given day tbh genres: fluff and nsfw content

ningning is THE girlfriend tbh

very feminine, very princess vibes

but i feel like ningning is the epitome of a 50/50 girlie

she will definitely expect princess treatment but she will also def be giving princess treatment

it doesn't matter age, gender, race, nationality

you are her princess™️ just like she is your princess™️

for example, she might be the one to ask you out on a date

but once you hit it off, she'll expect you to be the one to make it official

i honestly feel like ningning would ask you out within like a couple hours of meeting you

she gets your number, thinks you're cute, and then asks you out on a date

and on that first date, she puts her expectations for a relationship out in the open and highkey she's just so confident in what she wants that you're like ???

i'm??? in love with her???

(she knows you are)

once you ask her to be your girlfriend, she absolutely dotes on you

there's a new side of her that you've never seen before

she's like a sweet best friend that also drops 2 grand on w/o batting an eye bc she saw you eyeing a pretty watch and what her baby looks at, her baby gets

and she expects that you love her like that too!!

not monetarily, but definitely at least in emotional aspects

affirm her feelings, express how much you love her, initiating dates, buying her flowers randomly to surprise her

but outside of that, she wants you to be her best friend and vice versa

like she genuinely wants to have inside jokes w you, do stupid things w you, and lowk wants to be your absolute best friend

def isn't very controlling and she herself has a lot of friends

but she def prioritizes you the most out of everyone

and kinda wants you to do the same (or at least have her in the top 3)

is actually the best person to rant to bc she'll just listen to you like this 😍 while you're swearing like a sailor

will def join in and bash whoever's making her bb feel bad

but thinks you're so incredibly lovable regardless

lowk loves showing you off in public?

like she doesn't care when you're wearing revealing clothing or when ppl are checking you out, in front of her, mind you

bc she knows that you're hot and she appreciates you knowing that too

what she draws the line at tho is literally anyone threatening her spot in closeness to you

lowk will get toxic abt it too

like if she feels like you met someone who's able to make you laugh like she does, she immediately brings it up to you

and asks you to distance yourself from them

unless she's 100% sure that it's platonic from their side

bc she trusts her baby

but not the rest of the world

hand in hand w the whole showing you off/best friend thing

she loves going clubbing w you!!

the best thing abt dating ningning is that she makes you embrace life to the fullest

genuinely 0 shits given to the world

you're violently drunk after 12 shots at the club? she's holding your hair/clothes back as you hurl your guts out and she's still having the time of her life

will take so many pics of you two together

like actually she has to upgrade her icloud storage every 3 months

bc she doesn't want to delete a single picture of you

or the two of you tgt

probably singlehandedly supporting apple atp

so incredibly in love w you <333

[NSFW CONTENT BELOW]

ik so many ppl hc her as a pillow princess

and she def has her moments!! where she just wants to be spoiled rotten

but she love love LOVES putting in the work when y'all are getting nasty

highkey that's one of the only things she'll rlly go 75/25 on

she has an y/n fixation so you can expect her to go down on you (wtv that looks like for you!!) 25/8

you're watching tv? her hands are in your pants

you're washing the dishes? she's backhugging you and her hands are in your pants

you're breathing? her hands are down your pants

NINGNING JUST WANTS TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ALL THE DAMN TIME

i don't rlly think she's into power play

but she's def prone to 'taking the lead' in bed

i also think that once you guys get more comfortable w each other, she lets out her inner freak

like i genuinely think that she'd leave you tied to the bed w a vibrator at your core and just watch you

she thinks you look gorgeous when you cum

and therefore, overstimulates you whenever she can

not a fan of edging bc she hates seeing you cry

but she will use it against you if she ever feels like you're not loving her as hard as she wants to be!!

also lots of romantic, heated sex

where she pushes you up against a wall and kisses the shit out of you

and then takes you to the bedroom where she has a bunch of fairy lights and candles lit

she's v v spontaneous tho so she can flip the vibe however you want!! will never do the same thing twice!!

aftercare has to be 50/50 tho!! she runs you a bath and massages all of the sore spots and you make her cheese toasties <333

overall, ningning who is your needy/sexy/silly best friend and girlfriend all in one!!

#jnnul #ningning #ningning x reader #aespa x reader #ningning smut #aespa smut #aespa imagines #aespa drabble #aespa headcanons #ningning headcanons #ningning imagines #ning yizhuo #ningning fluff

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doumadono · 5 months

Text

Synopsis: initially hesitant about adopting a cat, Shoto finds his reservations gradually melting away as he discovers the endearing charm and companionship the furry creature brings

A/N: this story was commissioned on my Kofi page by my lovely @indignant-alpaca - I'm sharing it with her kind permission 🌸 If you like my writing, please consider supporting me via my Kofi page

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

In a quaint apartment on the outskirts of the city, Shoto Todoroki found himself faced with an unexpected addition to his life — one that would soon melt the icy barriers around his heart.

His girlfriend, Y/N, beamed as you carried a fluffy ball of fur into your living room. "Shoto, meet Mochi," you announced, presenting the tiny calico kitten nestled in your arms.

Shoto eyed the feline with a stoic expression, his dual-colored eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and reluctance. "A cat?" he questioned, his tone revealing a hint of skepticism.

You nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I thought it would be great to have a pet. They say cats bring good luck."

Shoto arched an eyebrow, his signature stoicism intact. "Luck, huh?" he mused, as Mochi stretched out her tiny paws, giving a small mew. "I don't need luck."

Undeterred, you gently placed Mochi on the floor, who immediately began exploring her new surroundings.

Shoto observed from a distance, maintaining his cool composure. "She's small," he remarked.

You giggled, "Well, she's a kitten. But just wait until you see her charm."

As if on cue, Mochi approached Shoto, her curious eyes fixated on him.

"I'm not a cat person," Shoto declared, attempting to assert his indifference.

You nudged him playfully. "Give it time, Shoto. Cats have a way of growing on you."

Over the next few days, Shoto found himself begrudgingly amused by Mochi's antics. The mischievous kitten would bat at his shoelaces, pounce on invisible prey, and curl up on his lap during quiet moments.

You couldn't help but notice the subtle softening of Shoto's expression as he interacted with your newfound furry companion.

Another evening, as Shoto sat reading a book, Mochi nestled beside him, purring contentedly.

You seized the opportunity. "Looks like someone's warming up to you," you teased.

Shoto sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Maybe she's not as annoying as I thought."

As days turned into weeks, the bond between Shoto and Mochi deepened in ways neither of them expected.

Mochi, once a mere distraction, became a constant presence in Shoto's life.

Mochi's preference for Shoto became evident. She would follow him around the apartment, ignore your attempts at play, and eagerly await his return whenever he stepped out.

One evening, after a long day of hero duties, Shoto found himself slumping onto the couch, exhaustion evident in his eyes.

Mochi, sensing his weariness, padded over and gracefully leaped onto his lap. She nuzzled against his chest, her purrs resonating through the room.

Shoto, surprised by the comforting gesture, couldn't help but stroke her soft fur absentmindedly.

But Mochi had other plans. As Shoto attempted to get up, Mochi protested with a small meow and refused to budge. It was as if she sensed when he needed a moment of respite, providing a gentle reminder to slow down.

In the mornings, Shoto found Mochi perched on the windowsill, her eyes fixed on the world outside. He joined her, silently appreciating the quiet moments shared with his feline friend.

You often caught them in these contemplative instances, a smile playing on your lips as you witnessed the unspoken connection forming.

One weekend, as Shoto worked on his training routine in the living room, Mochi decided to participate. She playfully swatted at his shoelaces, darting around him in a display of agility that mirrored his own. A small smirk tugged at Shoto's lips, and he found himself engaging in a playful dance with the energetic kitten.

You, capturing the adorable scene on your phone, couldn't resist sharing it later. "Looks like Mochi is teaching you a thing or two."

Shoto raised an eyebrow but didn't deny the truth in your words. Mochi had indeed become an unexpected mentor, reminding him of the simple joys in life and offering companionship in moments of solitude.

As their connection grew, Shoto started incorporating Mochi into his daily routine. Whether it was a quiet moment of reflection, a shared glance during meals, or an impromptu play session, Mochi became a source of comfort and joy for Shoto.

One evening, Yuki found them curled up together on the couch, Shoto absentmindedly stroking Mochi's fur while she purred contentedly.

"I guess you're officially a cat person now," you teased.

Shoto merely glanced at you, a small smile gracing his face. He couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed within him.

Their cozy little family, consisting of an icy-hot hero, his girlfriend, and an adorable cat named Mochi, found harmony in the unexpected bonds that formed. And as the trio shared quiet moments together, laughter and love echoed through the apartment, proving that even the coldest hearts could be thawed by the warmth of feline companionship.

#todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x y/n #shoto x reader #shoto x you #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #shoto fluff #mha fluff #anime fluff #bnha fluff #todoroki fluff #ko fi commissions #writing commissions #writing commission open #kofi commission

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artiststarme · 5 months

Text

Sometimes Sorry Isn't Enough

Sometimes Steve wondered how he was still alive. What made him more deserving of life than Barb? He kept putting his life on the line and yet he scraped by with only scars as evidence. He’d fought the demodogs and the mindflayer. He’d thrown Molotov cocktails at Vecna/Henry/One’s face. He’d been prepared to die every single time. So why was he still here?

He wished he’d chosen to jump off the quarry’s cliff when he found out that his parents had left him behind for good. Wished that he hadn’t been too quick for the demodogs to catch in the junkyard. He wished that he’d taken Max’s place in the face of Vecna’s curse. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be around anymore.

He loved his friends, loved Robin and Eddie in particular, but it wasn’t enough. Robin had better things to do than deal with his trauma that he’d roped her into without her consent. If it weren’t for him being so desperate and needy for attention, she would never have been involved with the Upside Down. She wouldn’t have been psychologically tortured by the Russians or exposed to the Hell that existed beneath them. She’d be better off without him.

And Eddie. Poor Eddie didn’t deserve any of this either. He was simply the town’s scapegoat that was at the wrong place at the wrong time and now his life was forever changed because of it. His body was marred in scars where the bats mauled him, eerily similar to the ones that existed in Steve’s flesh. Steve should’ve done more to protect him instead of forcing him to play decoy and then his friend afterwards.

Instead of forcing his problems on the Party once again, Steve stewed by himself in his empty crypt of a home. The house was dark, the air was cold, and his heart was heavy. He poured pain pills, originally prescribed to deal with his horrific migraines, into his hands and took a deep breath. Unlike all those other times, he wouldn’t escape death again. As he swallowed pill after pill, his heart sank deeper. It was better this way.

He was unconscious by the time Robin arrived, a feeling of proud terror driving her away from her family dinner and to Steve’s side. He was unconscious when Eddie gave him CPR and mouth to mouth, imagining their first kiss would be much different than it actually was. He was on the verge of life and death by the time Hopper speedily pulled into his driveway and threw him in the ranger before the ambulance could even arrive to take him to the hospital, begging him the entire way to open his eyes.

When he woke up to hospital smells and bright lights, he initially felt disappointed. He’d failed once again to leave the wretched world that never seemed to want him. But when he looked around, he felt a spark of hope in his chest. Hopper, Eleven, Robin, Eddie, and Dustin were in various chairs and cots scattered throughout the room. Eddie was curled into a ball by his feet on the bed while Robin was pressed against his side, her head on his chest as if she was waiting subconsciously to hear each beat of his heart. Hopper was sat in a chair by his bedside, his fingers loosely gripping the bed frame. Eleven was on the window’s ledge, her brow furrowed like the world was on her shoulders still. And Dustin. He was on a cot right beside Steve’s bed, his body facing him and his hand wrapped around his wrist.

Steve felt guilt flood him. He always felt like he was surviving on luck alone, deserving to die and never quite doing so. He didn’t realize that he was surviving off the love of his friends, his family, and that they were doing the same. It would take awhile to change his way of thinking and for him to start appreciating the life he had but he would get there eventually. Especially with his best friend, his boyfriend, his little brother and sister, and Hopper by his side.

#it still doesn’t stop him from putting everyone else first though #he will always put his life on the line in the drop of a hat #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eleven hopper #chief jim hopper

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plussizefantasia · 6 months

Text

Trick-Or-Treat

Flufftober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: Here it is. The last one shot of October. Thank you to everyone who has left comments and reblogs you guys are awesome. I'll be taking a short break (like two weeks) and will be back soon with some more stories including a multi-chapter Steve Harrington x reader story and plans for the 100-follower celebration that we earned at the beginning of the month. As always, reblogs and feedback are really appreciated.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Bucky Barnes didn’t think very much of himself. Which is a real shame, considering he’s one of the most amazing men you’ve ever met. You wouldn’t have moved in together if he was a bad guy like he thought he was. The two of you had moved into a two-story townhouse in Brooklyn three months ago. Bucky really wanted to get close to his roots, especially after everything that happened. Steve had moved into an apartment about a block from you guys but split most of his time between the Avenger’s initiative and being home.

“Jamie, could you help me move the couch to the stoop please?’

‘Why are we taking our indoor furniture outdoors?”

“So that we have something comfy to sit on while we hand out candy.”

“We’re handing out candy? I thought we were just going to put it in a bowl and leave it outside the door.” Bucky was confused, and more than a little apprehensive.

“Jamie. Love of my life, this is what people who have houses do. They sit out on their porches and hand out candy to children in mediocre costumes for two hours while trying not to freeze. It’s a rite of passage.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t do trick or treat in the olden days?”

“First of all, don’t call them the olden days. Second of all, trick or treating wasn’t really a thing until I was too old to participate, and even then, people had more things to worry about than handing out candy.”

“Why don’t you want to hand out candy, Jamie?”

“Because… it will be cold.”

“You’re literally a human furnace try again.” You lifted one eyebrow at him, trying your best to capture the essence of Roger’s ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ that he had practically trademarked.

“Doll, I just don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Why not Jamie? I won’t make you hand out candy if you don’t want to but I have a feeling that whatever reason you have in your silly little noggin for not wanting to isn’t really a good one.”

“What if they hate me?” He mumbled.

“What if who hates you, baby?”

“The kids. What if the kids are scared of me.”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You are a hero, you fought to bring back literally half of the population of the entire universe, anyone who is scared of you is an idiot.”

“That’s sweet doll, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s night.”

“The only person’s night who is a risk of being ruined is mine. I don’t know how I’ll survive without my human furnace to keep me warm out there.” You batted your eyelashes at him. “Please, Jamie? Just try, if you hate it you can go back inside but I think you’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” You didn’t try to fight the smile that spread from ear to ear.

‘Yeah, doll. I’ll hand out candy with you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about any of this. But you had asked so prettily and his therapist (someone you had found for him, not one of the shitty government-appointed ones) had told him that he needed to start pushing his boundaries. He figured that spending the night next to you and watching you be happy was as good of a way to start pushing boundaries as any. He had pulled the couch out into the space that was right in front of your door. He had helped you climb over the back of it with a huge bowl of candy after you realized that the couch had practically trapped you inside. Now the two of you were waiting. The night didn’t officially start until 8:00 so you had about fifteen minutes to go.

“Jamie?”

“Hmm?’

“I forgot my phone.”

“Okay?’

“Jamie?”

“Yes?”

“Could you go get my phone?” He let out a deep sigh and one of those old man grunts as he pushed himself up off the couch and climbed over it. He walked further into the house and you took your chance. “Hey Jamie?”

“Yes, Doll?”

“Since you’re inside… could you make me some hot chocolate?”

“Doll, if you wanted hot chocolate you could’ve just asked in the first place you didn’t need to send me on a quest for your phone.”

“I did actually leave my phone on the counter so it’s not like I lied.”

As Bucky was making your hot chocolate, the beginning few kids started emerging from their houses, parents behind them bundled up to counteract the chilly October night.

You saw a few clowns, some kids show characters that you didn’t really know the name of, and some funny pun costumes that you laughed at. But what really caught your eye was the trio of boys four houses down from yours, making their way down the street.

They couldn’t have been older than eight but their costumes were impeccable. They really were mini versions of your three favorite guys. A mini Captain America complete with a homemade cardboard shield, a mini falcon with swim goggles and a plastic redwing, and last but certainly not least a mini winter soldier whose arm was wrapped in tinfoil.

You had to resist the urge to actually scream, but you did let out a few overjoyed giggles.

“Jamie! James come quick!” You yelled into the house.

“You’re hot chocolate is almost done.” He yelled back.

“Who cares about the hot chocolate this is way more important!”

He started making his way towards the open door, “What is more important than hot choco-” He completely stopped. Frozen in his place looking at the three little boys making their way up your steps. “Holy Shit”

‘Language.” You replied.

Bucky practically launched himself over the back of the couch to meet the boys,

“Mom! Mom look! It’s Sergeant Barnes.” The boy with the tinfoil arm turned with a bright smile on his face. His mom was nearly as frozen as Bucky, most likely not expecting to run into a retired superhero on Halloween night.

With a smack from you, Bucky released himself from his stupor. “Hey little man, what’s your name?”

“George, but everyone calls me Georgie.” He said with the confidence of a kid who had rehearsed.

“Well Georgie, that’s a very nice costume you’ve got there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, Sir.”

“Call me Bucky, please.”

“Okay, Mr. Bucky, sir.” Both you and Bucky chuckled at that.

“I think a costume as good as that deserves some candy what do you think?” Bucky looked at you.

“Definitely, I think all three of these young heroes deserve their candy.”

You placed a handful into the Captain’s bucket, and the Falcon’s but let Bucky grab the candy for his mini-me. He grabbed two large handfuls and winked at the kid as he placed them inside his orange pumpkin bucket.

“Would you be okay with taking a picture?” Georgie’s mom asked.

“Absolutely!’ Bucky replied and pulled all three young boys in front of him. Kneeling behind them and giving a genuine smile.

Once pictures were done the parents got the boys to say goodbye and move on.

“There are more houses to go to Georgie, besides, I’m sure Mr. Barnes would like to be able to give candy to some other kids.”

“Okay Mom,” Georgie turned back to Bucky, “Thank you, Mr. Bucky, sir. You’re my hero.” He turned back away and skipped down your stairs and onto the next one like he hadn’t just broken your boyfriend.

The rest of the night went pretty similarly, with the occasional Avenger costume and star-struck kid. Bucky posing for pictures and actually enjoying it and you handing out way more candy per child than their parents were okay with.

Bucky’s smile never faded and he seemed to get more and more into it as the night went on.

“Hey Doll?” He asked when the two of you had finally returned your couch back to its rightful place.

“Yeah, Jamie.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You kissed him on the cheek. “You never did bring me my hot chocolate though.”

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