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annewithaneofthegreengable · 2 days

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Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? Their son, Jack always wanted a pet but with them traveling the world for the races, it was not possible. But when Charles recently adopted Leo, Jack asks his mother to help him. Knowing Toto wouldn't say no to her. With "indistinguishable squeaky noises' when Jack got what he wanted all along. And "Aww! A PUPPY!". They both give Toto a very crushing hug. Just major fluff and cute. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

Here you go! Enjoy reading it and I also add a small part of SMAU 🤭, well, since lots of you guys have been sending me texts telling me how much you like it! I read it all and I cherished each and every message. Love you all!

Jack was on a mission. He had been begging his parents for a pet for months now, but with their busy lives full of Formula One travels, it was impossible. He knew his dad would probably say no, but his mom was a softie when it came to family, especially him. So he went to her with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Mama, can we get a puppy?"

She smiled at his eagerness, knowing that she would have to be the one to persuade Toto. She lowered down in front of her son, ruffling his hair playfully. "Sweetie, you know your dad has a lot on his plate with work, right?" Jack pouted, his shoulders slumping. "I know, but I really want a puppy! Please, Mama? Can't you talk to Papa?" he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful. She chuckled softly, unable to resist his adorable expression. "Alright, alright," she relented. "I'll talk to him."

Jack's face lit up with excitement, his eyes widening. "Really? You'll talk to Papa?"

His mother nodded, laughing softly. "Yes, I'll talk to him," she assured him. "But don't get your hopes too high, okay? Your Papa is a bit of a hardass." Jack's expression soured slightly at her words, but he quickly brightened. "But you'll convince him, right?"

She chuckled again, ruffling his hair once more. "I'll do my best."

Over the next few days, she thought about how to approach the topic with Toto. She knew he was a bit of a worrywart when it came to Jack's safety, and a puppy was a big responsibility.

Finally, one evening while they were having dinner together, she decided to bring it up. "Toto," she began, her tone casual.

Toto looked at her, his gaze curious. "Yes, Liebe?" he replied, taking a sip of his wine.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for his response. "Jack has been asking me for a pet," she said, watching his reaction closely.

Toto raised an eyebrow, his expression immediately becoming wary. "A pet? Like a dog or a cat?" he asked, setting his glass back down on the table.

She shrugged lightly, trying to appear nonchalant. "I think he's set on a puppy," she replied, gauging his reaction.

Toto's expression darkened slightly, but he didn't immediately shut down the idea. "We travel constantly," he said, his tone pragmatic. "How exactly would we care for a puppy on the road?"

She had expected this argument, and she was ready with a counter-point. "I've been thinking about that," she said quickly. "We could hire a dog walker or a pet sitter whenever we can't be there."

Toto frowned, his expression unconvinced. "It's not just about the physical care," he countered. "What about training and socialization? A puppy takes time and effort to raise."

She bit her lower lip, realizing that his concerns were valid. "I know it won't be easy," she acknowledged, her tone earnest. "But Jack has been such a good kid, and he's wanted a pet for so long."

Toto sighed, his expression softening. "I know he has, but can't just adopt a puppy on a whim."

She nodded, understanding his point but not willing to give up just yet. "I'm not suggesting we adopt one right now," she reassured him. "But we could at least talk about it, right?"

Toto leaned back in his chair, considering her words. "Alright, I'll listen," he said finally. "But you need to convince me why this is a good idea."

She took another deep breath, thankful that he was at least willing to listen. "Having a puppy could be good for Jack's development," she began. "It would teach him responsibility, and he would have a companion to help him deal with the stress of our travels."

Toto raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "You think a puppy will help manage stress?" he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Having a puppy to play with and snuggle up with might make his time on the road a bit more bearable."

Toto considered her words, his expression slowly softening. "Alright, I'll give you that," he agreed reluctantly.

His resistance was starting to crumble, and she could see that she was slowly winning him over. "And don't forget," she added with a smirk, "puppies are incredibly cute. Just imagine how happy it would make Jack."

Toto rolled his eyes playfully, a small smile creeping onto his lips. "You're playing dirty, Liebe" he accused her.

She chuckled, loving the banter between them. "I'm just speaking the truth," she responded, her tone innocent. "A puppy would be a wonderful addition to our family."

Toto let out a small huff, a mixture of resignation and affection. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?" he asked, his expression resigned but fond.

She shook her head, a sly smile on her lips. "Not until we at least consider it," she said, leaning forward slightly.

Toto couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. "You're relentless," he said, his tone admiring rather than annoyed. "But you always know how to get what you want, don't you?"

She smirked, knowing she had won the argument. "It takes a special skill to handle a stubborn man like you," she teased, her voice flirty.

Toto rolled his eyes once more, his expression a mix of amusement and defeat. "You're lucky I love you," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Throughout their conversation, their voices never rose above a quiet whisper, so as not to alert their son that they were discussing his request. Jack was currently upstairs in his room, presumably doing his homework or playing with his toys.

With a conspiratorial smile, she leaned in closer toward Toto. "Jack is already prepared for a puppy," she replied, giggling softly. "He's spent hours online watching puppy videos. Also, he had spent quite some time playing with Leo last week, and did not stop talking about it ever since.”

Just then, a small voice called out from the staircase. "Mama?"

She looked up to see Jack standing there, a hopeful expression on his face. "Yes, sweetie?" she asked, knowing exactly what he was about to ask.

Jack looked between her and Toto, his eyes slightly widened. "Did you talk to Papa about the puppy?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

She smiled warmly at her son, her heart swelling with affection. She looked over at her husband, who was still leaning back in his chair, a resigned expression on his face.

"We've been discussing it," she replied to Jack, her tone light.

Jack's eyes widened even further, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement. "And what did Papa say?" he asked, barely able to contain himself.

Toto let out a soft sigh, knowing that he was outnumbered in this situation. He couldn't help but feel a pang of affection for his wife and son, especially when they both gave him those big, pleading eyes.

"We're considering it," he spoke up, his tone resigned but fond.

Jack let out a small gasp, his expression filled with glee. He practically bounced from foot to foot, his excitement barely contained.

"Considering it" seemed to be enough for Jack, as he squealed in delight and practically ran over to Toto, wrapping his small arms around his father's waist in a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Jack repeated, his voice muffled against Toto's shirt.

Toto chuckled, returning his son's embrace. "Don't celebrate just yet," he warned, his tone mock-stern.

Despite his words, Toto's expression was softened, and his arms remained around his son. He was unable to resist the infectious joy that filled Jack's face.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of her husband and son, their bond evident even in this brief moment. She knew that once they brought a puppy into the mix, their family would be complete.

Toto slowly extracted himself from Jack's embrace, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"But there are some conditions," he said firmly, his tone serious.

Jack looked up at his father, his expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Conditions?" he asked, his voice a little quieter than before.

Toto nodded, his expression still stern. "Yes, conditions. If we're going to have a puppy, there are certain things we need to take into consideration."

Jack nodded, his eyes wide and intently fixed on his father. "Like what?" he asked, his voice a little meek.

Toto ticked off the conditions on his fingers as he spoke.

"First, we need to decide on a breed that fits our lifestyle. We can't have a high-energy dog that we can't keep up with."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Second, you'll need to help take care of the puppy. That means feeding, walking, and cleaning up after it."

Jack nodded vigorously, his expression determined. "I can do that! I promise!"

Toto chuckled softly, impressed by his son's determination and acceptance of the conditions.

He looked at his wife, who smiled warmly at him, then back at his son, his heart feeling a mix of amusement and affection.

"Yes, that's all," he answered, his voice soft. "If you're still willing to accept those conditions, we'll consider getting a puppy."

As Toto spoke, Jack's expression slowly shifted from determination to excitement. He looked up at his father, barely able to contain himself.

"So that means we can get a puppy now?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

Toto chuckled, shaking his head indulgently. "Not just yet, maybe tomorrow" he replied, his tone gentle.

A few weeks had passed since the discussions had concluded, and the day finally arrived when they would bring home their new puppy. Jack was practically vibrating with excitement, his face pressed against the car window as they made their way home.

Finally, they arrived at their house, and Jack all but pounced out of the car, running towards the front door. Toto and his wife followed more leisurely, their hearts filled with equal measures of anticipation and amusement.

When they entered the house, Jack froze in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight in the living room. There, sitting in the middle of the room, was a small, fuzzy puppy, its wagging tail a blur.

Jack stared at the puppy in awe, barely able to speak. "Is… is that for me?" he asked, his voice soft and trembling with emotion.

Toto chuckled, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "That's right. That's your new best friend."

Jack slowly made his way towards the puppy, his steps hesitant yet eager. The puppy looked up at him with curious eyes, its little tail still wagging excitedly.

Jack knelt down in front of the puppy, slowly holding out his hand. The puppy sniffed his hand curiously, then licked it, causing Jack to giggle happily.

"Can I hold it?" he asked, looking up at his parents with wide, pleading eyes.

Toto chuckled, his expression fond as he watched his son interact with the puppy. "Of course," he replied, his voice soft.

Jack carefully scooped up the puppy in his arms, cradling it against his chest like a precious treasure. The puppy wriggled a little, settling into a comfortable position in Jack's embrace, its eyes drifting closed in contentment.

Jack looked up at his parents, a huge grin on his face. "I love him already," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and affection.

Jack wandered into the garage, the puppy trotting after him on its little legs. The puppy looked curiously around the unfamiliar surroundings, its eyes wide and curious.

Jack settled down against a wall, leaning back against the cool, smooth surface, and patted his lap, gesturing for the puppy to come closer. The puppy obeyed, clambering up onto Jack's lap and nestling in comfortably.

Toto entered the garage, a fond smile on his face as he watched the interaction between his son and the puppy. Toto leaned against a workbench, folding his arms across his chest as he observed Jack and the puppy. The puppy had completely relaxed in Jack's lap, its head resting on the boy's thigh. It looked up at Jack with adoring eyes, its tail thumping quietly against the ground.

Jack was completely enamoured, his eyes fixated on the puppy in his lap. He stroked the puppy's soft fur gently, murmuring to it softly. Toto shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You two are quite the pair already," he commented, his voice filled with amusement.

Jack looked up at his father, his expression filled with joy. "Scout's so soft," he whispered, still stroking the puppy's fur. "And he's so smart. He learns things quickly."

The puppy looked up at Toto, its eyes seeming to sparkle with a hint of mischief.

“Papa, can we go out and play? Maybe me and Scout can find Leo.” Jack asked.

“Sure, buddy. But please watch out and be careful.”

Jack and the puppy were out and exploring the paddock. Suddenly, they heard the sound of playful barking and saw Roscoe and Leo running towards them.

Roscoe and Leo bounded over to Scout and Jack, their tails wagging happily. The three dogs sniffed each other curiously, tails wagging in a friendly greeting.

Lewis and Charles watched as their dogs interacted with Jack and the puppy, a mix of amusement and fondness on their faces. Lewis chuckled softly as he watched Roscoe playfully pounce on the puppy, while Charles watched as Leo and the puppy sniffed each other curiously.

"Looks like they're already forming a pack," Lewis commented, grinning as he watched the dogs playfully wrestle together.

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user Say hello to our newest member in the Wolff family, his name's Scout Wolff

mercedesamgf1 Hello fur boss

user1 SCOUTS SO CUTE !!!

user2 New bestfr

user4 this is adorable

georgerussell63: scout 100%

maxverstappen1: 🐈's better

mercedesamgf1 🐺's better y/n_user Thanks admin redbullracing 🐂's better scuderiaferrari 🐎's better

carmenmmundt bring him to the race, wifey 🤩

lilymhe and I will bring my kids too, wifey 😚 alex_albon yours? kids?? wifey??? y/n_user yes, and 🤨 that's my wives right there! mercedesamgf1 wives? Liebe, we need to talk - toto wolff lewishamilton last time I checked I went to y/n's wedding only, not sure who she got married to

landonorris when can I visit Scout

y/n_user anytime little lando norris 🤭 oscarpiastri CAN you adopt me so that I can have Austria as my home race to🥺 y/n_user where can I sign 🙌🏻 oscar piastri-leclerc-wolff has a nice ring to it mercedesamgf1 Liebe? We have our child already? - toto wolff y/n_user the more the merrier AND give the acc back to the poor admin pls

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, and others.

y/n_user Studied so hard so Daddy took us to the beach 🌊

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#toto wolff #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #f1 fic #f1 #f1 blurb #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 smau #smau

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4ngels0uls · 2 days

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M.A.T.T. - Matt sturniolo

Since streamer Matt is back <3

Also based on the new twitch stream all of them did.

Don’t like? Don’t read?

Summary: nick, Matt, Chris all play Fortnite for a bit, trying to keep y/n and Matt relationship a secret but Matt is making that hard really to do. But he keeps his act so y/n doesn’t get hate. but fuck… y/n is looking fucking hot…

Paring: fem!reader + gamer!matt

Warnings: SMUT, secret relationship, strong language, disagreement, , oral (Fem!receiving), pet names (slut, ma etc?), getting caught, etc.

A/N: HOLY FUCK I LOVE MATT STURNIOLO BUT ALSO CHRIS?😻 I can’t decide tbh. Switched the name.

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Y/ns pov

“Fuck!” Matt yells from dying on Fortnite for the 5th time. You’ve been the triplets friends since…. You don’t even know… maybe since you guys were 2 or 3? I don’t know, but you moved into their place with them and now you and Matt are basically attached together. Nobody knows but Chris and nick.

You get up from his (Matt’s) bed and walk over to nick, Matt, and Chris all taking turns playing rounds of Fortnite. The chat starts to spam “hi y/n” “I love her sm”

Matt looks over at me and smiles and you smile back. Chris hits him and gives him the eyes of “don’t fucking do that, they’ll know you dumbass” Matt flinch’s but doesn’t say anything. You stand watching the game till you look over and see how much people are watching.

Your eyes go wide and you start feeling your anxiety to rise. You let a sigh out and sit beside Chris on the bead as Matt plays the game, soon to be nicks turn. You zone out staring at Matt. Why can’t he use his fingers on me like he does with that controller? Why can’t I be his good girl and he’ll pound into me like I’m a little toy? Fuck… is all you can think.

You start to feel wet at the thoughts you’re having of Matt. Matt loses the game “fuck sakes!” He yells and passes the controller to nick. You clench your thighs together and Chris looks at you and whispers “are you okay y/n?” You slowly turn your head towards Chris. “I-I’m fine.” You stutter. Chris raise his eyebrow at you considering you don’t stutter much.

you sigh and try to keep you cool but you can’t at the thought of Matt being rough on you. Nick eventually loses and Chris takes the controller and plays the game, a little bit after Chris loses “fuck!” Chris yells. “Do you guys just wanna play trios?” Matt asks. “sure” nick and Chris both agree.

Nick and Chris get up and leave the room leaving you and Matt alone with the stream. You get up and sit beside Matt while he sets up the stream. He gets it all set up and they ready up for the game. Matt mutes his mic fast and whispers in your ear so no one can read his lips. “I’m going to fucking pound into to you after the stream.”

He pulls his head away and smirks at you as you look at him and your eyes go wide. You blush at the thought of that happening. He unmutes his mic “Matt! Fucking stop!” Chris yells trying to get not to get you and Matt caught. “Sorry sorry..” Matt answers. They land on the bottom right of the map. They get the medallion and drive around.

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“Alright guys we’re going to go now, see you guys soon!” Matt says as everyone in the chat says goodbye and all three of the triplets throw up the peace sign and Matt ends the stream. “You going to keep your word?” You ask Matt. “Fuck yes.” He says as he picks you up and brings you to his bed. “your fucking slut, trying to think I don’t know your wet? I heard you stutter”

You stare up at Matt with a little shock after admitting he heard you stutter to Chris. Matt smashes his lips into yours, making a full on make out sesh. He tugs on your waistband of your pyjama pants. He pulls it right off along with your underwear. He pull his pants down with his boxers also. He takes your shirt and rips it off.

“No bra?” Matt smirks. “Matt! That was a good shirt!” You scold Matt. “Sorry ma. I’ll buy you a new one.” You roll your eyes at Matt response. “Fucking roll your eyes at me again I’ll fuck them till they get stuck.” He threatens you. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You reply. He chuckles at your answer and moves his face in Between your thighs.

He kisses along your inner thighs and gets to your aching core. He moved his lips to your clit. “oh fuck” you moan softly. He sucks and licks your clit making you a moaning mess. He puts his two fingers in your hole making you gasp at the sudden pleasure. You wrap your fingers in between his brown locks as you let whimpers out of your mouth.

Your legs start squeezing Matt’s head. You now have your legs wrap around Matt’s head as he eats you out. “Fuck Matt!” You moan. You thrust your hips into Matt face. He sticks his tongue into your hole making you whimper loudly. “Matt! Close!” You moan.

“Wait a sec” he mumbles against your core, sending waves of pleasure through out your body. “Please!” You yell. “now you can.” He says and the knot in your stomach snaps and you moan. He starts cleaning your juices and you start to feel him writing something. M.A.T.T. Right on your core.

he slides his finger on his chin, wiping up your release off his chin and he licks its off his finger. “Fuck y/n… you taste so good” he groans. He kisses you and you groan at the taste of your self in his mouth. He lays your head down on the pillows and crawls up to you and hovers above you.

He sucks on your neck leaving big purple hickey on your neck, obvious you guys either had a hot make out or had sex, and obviously one is very true. He teases you by sliding his tip against your slits. “Please don’t tease matt” you beg but moan at the same time. He slides himself into your core. Your pussy swallowing his dick. You scrunch your face at the pain because you forgot he’s big.

“m-Matt don’t move too big..” you whine. “Are you okay?” “M-mhm” you grunt. He kisses your collarbone to distract you from the pain. The pain slowly turns pleasure. “o-okay you can move.” You tell him as he smirks and slowly moves his hips. He slowly makes his pace faster and faster. He eventually hits your g spot “fuck Matt!” You scream. “I found it” he smirks as he talks.

He grabs my hips to fasten his pace a bit more. You start to arch your back from the pleasure. “Fuck y/n…” he groans. “Hey ma- HOLY SHIT!” “Matt! FUCKING JESUS” nick and Chris yell. Matt grabs a blanket and puts it over you guys. “Fucking leave!” Matt yells. You stare at nick and Chris as you look fucked out. They close the door almost immediately.

“Jesus fucking Christ..” he Mumbles. He starts to thrusts his hips more than he did he before. He grabs his belt that he had on before. He wraps his belt around your hands, tying your arms behind your back and he starts pounding into to you, his balls slapping against you clit each thrust.

“Ohh fuckk Matt!” You moan. “Fuck your tight..” he groans as he pumps inside of you at an every fast pace. He speeds his pace making not able to even say a thing but his name. “MATT!” You scream. You feel the knot in your stomach start to feel the knot almost snap. “C-cum!” You yell. “go ahead.” He grunts. You release as soon as he opens his mouth. “Humghh matt!” You moan as you cum.

“Fuckk” he groans as he releases his cum into your pussy, painting your walls completely white. He falls down beside you as his cum leaks out of you. He gets up and hovers above you. He start licking your stomach and starts to spell something. M.A.T.T. Right a cross your stomach. He backs up and smirks at you. He leans up and kisses you.

Matt gets up and walks over to the washroom, grabbing a wet cloth so you don’t have all cum over you guys. He cleans you both up and he helps you put all your clothes back on. You go to get up to go get water but your legs are more wobbly than a broken Chair. You sit back down and whine. Matt chuckles at you and goes to go get water in the kitchen.

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Matt’s pov

I go get up to get water for y/n considering she can’t walk from the way I fucked her. I walk to the kitchen and see nick and Chris. The silence is very awkward since when Chris and nick walked into the room from when me and y/n were fucking.

I grab a cup and fill it up with water. “hey Matt..?” Chris questions. “yup?” I answer with an attitude. “why after the stream.” Chris questions again. I stare at the water that’s in the cup. “why not?” I ask. “can’t really see you the same bro, kinda weird.” Chris says. I take a glare at him. “Cool.” I answer coldly.

I start to walk back to y/n.

End of Matt’s pov

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Y/ns pov

Matt comes back with your cup of water. “Here” Matt says softly. You take the cup and take a sip of the water. “you gotta go piss. You’re going to get a UTI.” Matt says. “oh yeah.” You answer. “can you help me?” You ask Matt. “Yes I can.” He chuckles as he walks to you and takes you to the bathroom.

He plops you down on the toilet and you start peeing. He helps you up and takes you back to the bed. You lay down and he hovers above you. He lays his head on your stomach. He slides his finger all around your stomach as you play with his hair. He starts to spell something. M.A.T.T. He’s done it almost all over now.

Because your M.A.T.T.S.

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A/N

got lazy wit it at the end😻

I think i gotta go write a chapter Thing on Wattpad now..

BYE BUTCHS🤗

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo

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ckhaine · 2 days

Text

𖥻 MON AMOUR 18+ content

pairings　jungkook x fem! reader genres　 smut + small fluff

content　vulgar language, sexual themes, mentions of smoking, soft dom!jungkook, clit simulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), missionary, cock-warming　may be a few grammar errors, ignore them.

𝑐𝑘 𓃭　stream never let go :(( my baby so cute. might take a mini break from posting soon cs i've got lots to do that's more important than writing at the moment... anyway, here's your smut my loves. would love a comment, like, reblog. enjoy :)

A restless night where Jungkook can’t sleep for the life of him. He smoked, which only had him a little buzzed. He tried drinking a cup of camomile tea, relaxing on the balcony . . yet nothing was working.

Groaning, he flips onto his side, facing your sleeping state. He raises a hand to gently cup your cheek and brushes a strand of hair away from lying across your cute nose. Places a kiss there.

It’s a selfish way to think, but he wanted nothing but for you to be awake with him.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers, resting his head on the large, white pillow your face is planted on. “Babyyy,” he tries again, his index finger gently poking your hip. “Amour, wake up,” he whispers a little louder, a pout on his mouth.

Finally, your eyes fluttered open, all big and round with slight puffiness to the skin around your eyes. That makes Jungkook giggle, a goofy smile on his lips. “Kook?” You manage to murmur out, leaning forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Mmpf— ‘m so sleepy,” you add.

Your bother-of-a-boyfriend laughs softly, “So sleepy,” he mocks, a horrible attempt to make his voice equally as whiny and grumpy as yours, awakening a small scowl on your face.

The small strikes of thunder in the dark outside shine through the window, creating a gentle shadow on the features that make up such a lovely face. You blink your eyes towards the window, seeing heavy rain drop from the outside of the clear glass.

“It’s raining?” You ask, and Jungkook nods with a hum. “Yes, baby, it’s raining. You like rain, don’t ya?”

Sneaking a hand between your thighs, prying them open, you gasp at the contact of his fingers pressing against your clit, the fabric of your panties creating an upsetting division. You whine, jutting your hips against the provided friction. “Shhh, gon’ make y’feel good,” he claims, shifting atop you.

He peels the fabric to the side, sinks his fingers in your dewy folds and collects a glob of essence, bringing his fingers up to your throbbing nub, rubbing at a painfully slow pace. “Don’t tease me or ‘m gonna fall asleep.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, considering your drowsyness. Ridding himself of his sweats and tugging his boxers to sit underneath his aching balls, he presses the swollen tip against your leaking cunt, slowly sinking into you with a groan.

A hand holds his body up by your head, to which you wrap your fingers around his wrist. His necklace lightly dangles over your face, making Jungkook chuckle over you. His hips form a slow pace, before shifting into one faster and rougher. “Awh, shit.”

You let out soft, shaky whimpers and mumbles, ones that Jungkook nor you can understand. “Feels s’good, baby . .” You gasp, feeling a knot forming in your tummy, your legs shaking as you toss your head back.

Drool slides out of your agape mouth, back arching off the mattress as he, somehow, manages to plunge deep into your soppy, little hole. Lewd squelches of your pussy fills your ears, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

“Ju-Jungkook, ‘m gonna cu—” You stutter, sucking in a sharp breath of air as you cream all over his shaft, your hands gently digging into his tattooed forearm, emitting a low hiss from him.

“That's it, baby, fuck yes,” Jungkook lets out a loud groan, bottoming out, coating your walls white. He pulls out ‘til the tip’s still inside, watching the mixture of both yours and his come ooze out of your pussy before shoving it back into you.

He sighs, pressing a kiss onto your lips while he sinks down beside you, still buried in you as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Go sleep, amour,” he says, in which you nod and smile.

#ckhaine 𓃭 #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #jungkook x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeongguk fluff

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zephyrchama · 1 day

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A New Game

It must get boring playing the same mundane games, like rock-paper-scissors, for millennia. The Obey Me cast would probably jump at the opportunity to try something new. Something introduced from the human world. (This fic is not explicit in nature but repeatedly uses a word some people consider naughty.)

---

You received a message from Lucifer.

"My brothers are studying in the library. I have to step out for a while, will you supervise them until my return?"

The RAD library was busier than usual with students rushing to cram before the next big exam. The usually serene room had demons occupying every nook. Some sat on the floor with their back to a bookcase, some perched on the ladders leading up the shelves, and few were lucky to have a table seat.

Six of the seven brothers sat around one such coveted table. Lesser demons shied away from approaching them and even the more powerful students felt uneasy walking by. You were the only one with both guts and permission to approach.

The atmosphere was strange. They looked focused and were completely silent, so you greeted them with a wave and slid into the last open chair. Must have been Lucifer's. You leaned forward against the table edge and took a peak at Satan's advanced curse notes.

Things were too still. It felt wrong. At a glance they appeared to be studying, surrounded by book stacks and messy note sheets, but the brothers stared blankly at the material in front of them them without actually interacting with it. Something was up.

Leviathan made a barely perceptible sound. You looked at him, but brushed it off as your imagination when you realized he hadn't moved. It could have been someone nearby turning the page of a book.

At least they were all behaving. You couldn't force them to study, you were just there to supervise. You took a moment to enjoy the rare sight of the grand library being full. It was weirdly inspiring. A minute later you saw Mammon's lips twitch. He definitely said something under his breath.

"What?" you whispered, leaning his way.

Mammon dismissed you with a wave of his hand, shaking his head. You gave him a confused look.

Another mumble came from the opposite direction. You swung your head towards Asmodeus but he was fixated on a blank potion worksheet. He didn't so much as flinch when you narrowed your eyes suspiciously and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Ok. What's going on?" you asked. If this was a new way to study, it sucked.

Beelzebub coughed. It was so obviously fake. The way he covered his mouth made it hard to discern what he said.

"Lucifer's not here, you know. You guys can tell me." Would you rat them out if they were doing something malicious? That remained to be seen.

Feeling that someone was going to try again, you abandoned any hope of studying and focused all your senses towards the brothers. Who would be next to move?

It was both Satan and Belphegor. Being across from each other, you couldn't pay attention to them both and missed what they each said. They broke the stillness to make eye contact with each other and clenched their jaws in frustration.

Asmodeus took advantage of the moment to act next. The boys were getting a little louder each time, and this time you could almost make out what was said.

"...nis." Leviathan briefly shrunk behind a stack of books to say his piece.

Realization began dawning on you.

Beelzebub pretended to clear his throat. You were ready this time, and caught the word clear as day. "Penis."

By goodness, they were playing the human game you told them about. The Penis Game.

"What are the stakes? What are you playing for?" You had to know. They were doing this in the school's library, of all places? The brothers eyed each other with distrust.

"Winner gets to have you sit in their lap when Lucifer gets back," Leviathan explained, throwing a quick "penis" onto the end of his sentence.

You wondered if Lucifer would even allow that while Mammon said "penis," plain as day. A passing gaggle of students looked over.

Up on the second floor, a random demon stumbled and almost fell off a ladder, sending the books they carried crashing to the ground. Satan took advantage of the noise to say "penis" in a louder-than-average tone. The stakes were rising.

You were supposed to be supervising these guys, to make sure they studied properly to pass their exams. You should have put a stop this game. But it was funny and you were too curious how it'd unfold.

Belphegor shut his eyes. After a few deep breaths, he snorted a noise that resembled the word.

"That doesn't count," Asmodeus pouted. "It wasn't clear enough. Penis."

Belphegor furrowed his brow and cracked an eye open. "What? Yes it does. I said penis, didn't I?"

Satan clicked his tongue. "That's debateable. Penis."

The table was now speaking rather loudly and attracting stares from every direction. Nobody would dare shush the rulers of the Devildom without a death wish, but they could observe them in silence.

"I-I don't know how much longer I can do this... P-penis." Leviathan was at his limit. He didn't like the stares. Maybe if you had told them this was the "anime game" he would have stood a chance.

"What? We're just saying penis." Asmodeus had no reservations at all.

"Penis." While Mammon called out, students noticeably began trickling out of the library.

"Maybe we should wrap this up, you guys are disturbing everyone," you gingerly suggested.

"That's not fair, penis. Are you saying you want to sit in Mammon's lap?" Belphegor scowled.

Beelzebub, newly determined to beat his older brother and spurred on by his twin, bellowed "penis."

The yelling caused more students to pack up their belongings and scurry out. You cringed a bit. All remaining eyes in the library were on your table. "No! I'm not favoring anyone, but this is getting out of hand."

"Penis! They're just jealous! Come over here, I'll take good care of you." Mammon patted his thigh.

"Absolutely not! Mammon, get away from them! Penis!" Asmodeus shouted and grabbed your shoulder. Uh oh.

The physical altercation began. Satan growled, "don't touch them," and shoved Asmodeus into Leviathan's textbook stack. "Penis."

"H-hey! Watch it! Ugh, penis!" Leviathan scrambled to avoid Asmodeus' fist.

"Wow, Satan! Rude! What if I got scratched? Penis!" Asmodeus lurched at Satan, who ducked and sent the former crashing into Beelzebub.

Beelzebub didn't really care, but he still wanted to win. "Penis."

"Yeah, penis. You said it Beel." You didn't really get what he meant, but Belphegor was upset in his twin's place.

"I'm winnin' this thing! Penis!" Mammon nearly toppled the table over.

Everyone was straining to shout as loud as they could, a rowdy chorus of "penis" chants. You watched the insanity of the scene unfold in front of you, hoping demon forms would not get involved.

Something made you shudder. An ice cold, low rumble of a voice from the library entrance that cut through all the arguing and screams.

Lucifer had returned. "You're not studying."

He was followed by Lord Diavolo and Barbatos who both remained quiet, letting Lucifer deal with his family.

"You disrupt our meeting for this?" Lucifer's eyes could have had flames in them. A black mist emanated from his shoulders. He was furious. "Do you know how many complaints we received? Half the student body showed up, knocking at our door."

Diavolo was beside himself trying to maintain composure befitting a royal. He wanted nothing more than to laugh. Lucifer was not going to hear the end of this incident.

Barbatos had a cold smile plastered to his face and a hand on his chest, implying that one wrong move would result in unfathomable punishment.

The brothers shifted uncomfortably back into their chairs, dragging textbooks towards them and guiltily sticking their noses back into piles of notes. They didn't dare utter a single word.

"Don't think any of you are getting off scott free." Lucifer loomed over them. They could already feel the impending rope burn on their skin.

"If you wanted extra duties so badly, there are many sites on school grounds that can use improvement. You could have just asked." Barbatos was happy to take advantage of their suffering if it was beneficial for Diavolo.

Lucifer looked at you. He wasn't mad, just disappointed, which felt worse. "Don't think you're innocent, either. You were supposed to be supervising them."

You nervously averted your eyes, slumping your shoulders while picking at the corner of some notebook paper as he continued, "come with us back to the council room. You're giving us a detailed report on exactly what happened here, and what this 'penis game' malarkey is all about."

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miyamizuna · 2 days

Text

Is it that sweet? I guess so~

Haikyuu boys as lyrics from "Espresso" by Sabrina Carpenter part 1 | part 2 ft. miya atsumu, kuroo tetsuro, semi eita

I can’t relate, to desperation (miya atsumu)

Being the MSBY social media manager means work- especially when it comes to Miya Atsumu. It seems like every other week he gets himself. caught up in controversy. Whether it be him being too touchy with an already-married older actress, or even being spotted on dates with multiple female idols. It’s your job to defend his already poor internet reputation.

“Y/n~ c’mon now, one date is all I'm askin’! Throw me a bone here!” He pleads for the 5th time today. He was sure to be persistent after the many rejections before.

“Miya, how many times do I have to tell you no?” You sigh as you reject him once more to add onto the tally of 56 rejections over the course of a year.

Sure he was attractive, what normal person would say no to a 6’1” professional volleyball player? Sadly you know firsthand about his player activities. You understand it though, a young early twenties male is bound to act like this. though the severity of actions vary on a case-to-case basis; he happens to be on the far end of the spectrum.

“Besides, it’s unprofessional to have a relationship between the two of us. I’m your manager.” You explain to him hoping finally you’d be able to get the message through his thick skull.

“Professional or not, who cares! give me a chance to prove myself! C’mon I've been good recently, no contreveries!” He explains trying to persuade your thoughts.

“If you call being spotted with a married woman in a fancy restaurant ‘good behaviour’, I don’t know what to tell you.” You frown as you avert your eyes from him, back to your laptop, typing out a public apology for Atsumu’s recent events.

With a frown, he steps forward and closes your laptop whilst leaning over your desk. His figure obviously towering over your sitting self.

“Enough of that, It wouldn’t be the same as those famous women who only want me to have an affair. It’s different with you.” He explains with sincerity as if this time he actually means what he says.

You look up at him with a smirk and now with crossing arms, leaning back on your office chair. “Oh really? Maybe when you give me an easier time with your little affairs, I’ll consider it.”

That's when his face lights up and puts on a stupid grin and leans in closer to your ear. i’m

“Oh you bet.” He whispers seductively in your ear before pulling away and walking to the door of the office.

“Well, see ya around Y/n, ya better hold up yer end of this.” He tells you before walking out of your office.

God this man. He's so… desperate for attention!

and I got this one boy, he won’t stop calling (kuroo tetsuro)

42 missed calls. Are you fucking kidding me? You had met this hot guy today at the cafe you work at, he was a tall man in a business suit, kind of built as you could see some of his triceps through the dress shirt, a really classy guy overall, though odd his hair didn’t match the aesthetic. You left your number on his cup just for the slight off chance he wasn’t in a relationship. Clearly, he’s not in one.

You decided to call him back, afterall you were busy with the cafe with the 8 hour shift you had just worked. Now lying on your stomach first, your leg hanging off the bed, you hit the call button.

“Hello?” a male voice says after only one ring.

“Uhm, Hi. You left 42 calls on my phone.” You informed him as if he wasn’t already aware of what he did.

“Oh yeah, I did do that~” He teases through the phone. “So what’s your name, coffee girl?”

“It’s L/N Y/N, and you?” You ask with a semi-interested tone returning the energy of his voice.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsuro. Y/n is a pretty name ya know” He flirts through the phone.

You can just imagine his silly smirk, the same exact one as when he saw the cafe when he read your number, and then the “call me <3” written under it.

“So I take it you’re not taken as you’re calling me” You suggest as you twirl your hair and kick your legs, god you feel like a teenage girl.

“Nah, I’m not taken. Haven’t really had a girlfriend before, closest was talking stages.” he explains you hear the ruffling of papers in the background.

So that explains the 42 calls. Takes a man's guts to admit that.

“You don’t exactly know what you’re doing, don’t you~” You tease as you hear a sigh from the end of the phone.

“Well no- I do know what I’m doing! Just I wanted to get to know you- soon!” He fumbles words trying to explain himself which brings a laugh out of you.

“Suuuure…”

There’s now a long awkward pause in the conversation. In which both of you don’t exactly know what to ask each other next.

“Soo- Are you a full-time worker at that cafe?” He suddenly asks, speaking up to fill the silence.

“Well no, I’m still in college. I’m going there for an English degree. How about you? You seem like you got a pretty good job.” You explain, then follow up with a question about himself.

“Well darling, I’m a sports promoter, specifically for volleyball. I work for the Japanese Volleyball Association.” He informs you with a proud tone.

This does pique your interest, not every day do you meet a guy who works for a sporting association who happens to walk inside a hole-in-the-wall café.

“Well shit, that's cool! Did you play in high school or something?” You ask now, flipping over onto your back to a more comfortable position.

“I did- made it to nationals during my last year.” He answers with a cocky tone. There is more shuffling of papers in the background, maybe he’s still at work-

“Kuroo! We need the papers finalised by tonight!” A voice from the background of his end says with a very demanding tone. Causing him to groan into the phone.

“Well you certainly heard my boss…” He sighs. “Call you back cutie. We still need to finalise our date.” He tells you before hanging up the phone not even leaving time for you to respond to his statement.

“huh…? DATE?” You shout to the void that is your room.

Man, this guy is confident. Both him personally, and you being too willing to give this man a chance. You know one thing though. You’re definitely going to come back to 42 calls again.

I'm working late bc I’m a singer (semi eita)

Oh, Semi Eita, the lead singer and guitarist of his little band. The foundation of what his band is about all stems from him. His rock style is unique, flashy if you call it. He always felt the need to stand out from others. You know that best as his significant other. Since high school, he’s always been a show-off or tried to be. Because of his show-off nature, he was benched on the volleyball team in his 3rd year.

Now here he is, slumped over on his office desk at one in the damn morning, struggling to come up with meaning to his new song.

“You know, Eita, This song must really got you stumped. You haven’t stayed up writing this late in forever.” You smirk leaning on the doorframe to his office. You both know that you’re right.

Eita usually has a set schedule; sleeps at 11 pm, unlike his teen days when he’ll pull all-nighters for fun. He sighs and turns his office chair around.

“Well, I guess you can say that.” He replies as he tiredly smiles at you.

You walk over to his desk, the wood planks creek in the silence of night, and lean over his shoulder to look at the song.

“So what’s this song about?” You ask him while reading the lyrics.

“A boy who fell in love with a girl and sees her with rose-tinted glasses.” He explains as he taps the pen on the paper every few seconds, clearly in thought.

“Well is she a good person, or a bad person.” You ask, sitting yourself at the corner of his desk.

He sits at his desk long in thought. “That’s the thing. I don’t really know.” He admits and he runs a hand through his hair, the other hand twirling the pen around.

“Well when you think of this girl, who do you think of?” You ask him whilst playing with the drawer of his desk that sits above you.

as he sits there in thought, an idea suddenly pops into his head. There is one girl in particular that comes into his head.

“I think of you.” He lets out with a grin as he ruffles your hair, causing you to let put a laugh

“Me, huh? You really love me that much huh..?” You grin in response to his actions, with a proud tone of voice.

“I guess I do huh?” He smiles at your proud self. “I’ll write about you being the girl who I view in rose-tinted glasses,” He says as she writes down his ideas on the paper, making light scribble noises.

That's just when you get up and try dragging him away from the desk.

“You know its bed time right?” You tease and you put him in a headlock and ruffle his hair.

“I’ll be there soon! Just, let me finish noting these ideas down!” He protests and he doesn’t look away from the page despite what you’re doing to him.

You sigh in response and let go of him. Walking to the door in the process.

“Don’t stay up too late. We both know how grumpy you get without your beauty sleep.” You tell him in response to his protests. Finding a good opportunity to tease him in the process.

As you walk out of the room, all you can hear is a grumble in response. All for the fact he knows you’re right.

©miyamizuna 2024 do not repost

espresso is my spotify number 1 rn

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literaryavenger · 1 day

Text

You Were My Sunshine

Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.

Masterlist

“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.

You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.

“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.

“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.

“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.

“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”

Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.

You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.

Your life is an open book.

Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.

You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere.

It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.

At least that’s how the team sees it.

They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:

Don’t worry about it.

After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it.

Everyone except Bucky.

It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.

Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.

That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.

He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane.

He just needs you. to know.

So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.

He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.

You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.

You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.

Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.

He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.

Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.

He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.

Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.

It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?

But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.

So why do it in secret?

After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.

Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.

He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.

After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.

It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.

So why don’t the Avengers?

You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.

You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.

He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.

He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”

You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.

“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.

A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.

Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.

You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.

“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”

Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.

“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.”

Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.

“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.

That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.

He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.

Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.

But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.

And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”

He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.

“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.

It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

You are my sunshine

Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing.

My only sunshine

Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.

Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.

You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.

You make me happy, when skies are gray

You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little.

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.

Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away

Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.

Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these.

Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...

Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.

His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.

Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.

“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.

For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.

“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.

“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”

“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”

His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.

“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.

“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”

You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.

But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...

So you let him.

You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.

“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”

Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.

“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering.

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers #tony stark #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #clint barton

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snaileer · 1 day

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Call to My Bedside - Part 2

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/733019972168761344/call-to-my-bedside

Danyal wakes the next time with a weight to his limbs. From the moment he opens his eyes, he realizes he is not where he is supposed to be.

This is a medical bay, but it is not in the league, the constant twittering of League doctors monitoring his health is suspiciously gone. No shadows on guard outside the door.

The most glaring thing though, there was no Lazarus Water in his veins.

Perhaps Ra’s had decided he was no longer worth the expense, had decided-

No.

It was something else. That wasn’t an option he would consider.

Danyal tested the feeling of thin metal on his right wrist. Handcuffs, not shackles. It was odd.

But again, this wasn’t the league.

But he’d need to go back before Ra’s became angry. Danyal couldn’t fail.

He glances to the door as it opens, an old man-the one from before- and a younger, slender man standing just behind him.

Danyal stays still, his breathing even, forcing his heart to stay at a constant, stable rate. He watches them, analyzing.

The old man blinks, “It’s good to see you’re awake, young sir-,” He steps into the room, left foot a second slower, old weakness?- English accent, in Europe? the man behind him follows- stiff posture, rib injury, core focused strength, gymnast, combat trained and familiar- Richard Dick Grayson, Nightwing, he’s in America, Batman- “You gave us quite the shock earlier, myself especially.”

Nightwing watched Danyal warily, he saw him as a threat, and by the angle of his feet, a threat to the older man. He remembers now, he’d attacked him before, Nightwing was here to prevent it again.

They are heroes.

He was a part of the League of the Assassins.

He doesn’t fit here, could never.

Danyal considers the merits of speaking English, he wants to, deeply, and perhaps it would even benefit the situation; but his chest clogs with fear before he can even compose a sentence. It’s been too long anyways, the League dialect is easier.

“How long have I been here?” Danyal says, still not moving enough to even jostle the cuff at his wrist.

Nightwing sighs deeply, “We rescued you and Damian from a League of Assassins boat yesterday.” The words of the language are stilted, either by unfamiliarity or awkwardness, and who’s Damian? There’s a pause, “Do you know who I am?” Nightwing asks, caution in the words.

Danyal takes a deep breath, finally sitting up, despite the rattling of the chain on the cuff, “You are Nightwing, Dick Grayson, correct?”

Nightwing nods, his eyes briefly flitting to the elder man, “And you?”

Danyal’s eyes narrow, trying to find the trap, “I am Danyal Al Ghul, Heir of the Demon’s head, Blood of the Batman.”

Danyal watches the eyebrow of the old man tick up in his peripheral.

Nightwing pinches the bridge of his nose, “God I can’t believe Talia did it again,” He murmurs under his breath. In English. And Danyal would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear the language again, even just a little.

“Perhaps it would be best to bring Master Bruce back from his meeting,” the old man says pointedly. Danyal ignores as he changes and resets the IV attached to him, familiar with the autonomous care. With or without his consent.

“I’ve already notified him, he should be here soon.”

“Very good. In the meantime,” he turns to Danyal, “I am Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne family butler. It seems I did not get the chance to introduce myself the last time you were awake.”

Danyal can’t help but blink at the almost joking tone Alfred says it with, knowing that Danyal had been the one to knock him out. It makes his lip twitch, and he silently huffs, surprising himself with the action.

The amusement vanishes as the door opens once more, footsteps barely audible in the second before.

The man standing there is large, tall and broad shouldered, strong- dangerous, calloused hands from training- his eyes stay glued to Danyal, blue and steady amidst the square jaw and sharp features, black hair tussled like he’d been rushing, just like Dad always-

Danyal feels his jaw wire shut, back straightening.

The thin chain of the handcuff jingles in the sudden silence.

This he remembers. This is Batman. The Dark Night of Gotham. The Detective.

The source of every expectation Ra’s Al Ghul has ever placed on Danyal.

He feels his face try to screw into a sneer, because he hates him and everything he’s done that has ever affected Danyal, but his face remains still. Controlled. Because there’s nothing he can do about it anyways.

Batman had introduced himself before.

As another name. A civilian. His training forces him to remember it.

Bruce Wayne.

It means next to nothing to him. But the man doesn’t stop looking.

It’s Dick that speaks next, “Danyal, this is Batman, Bruce Wayne, your father.” The smile is at odds with the weary tone of the words, “He was there when we saved you and Damian a few.. yesterday. God that feels like longer.”

Saved? The sentiment makes him want to scoff. He doesn’t, because Batman’s eyes already narrow with Nightwing’s words, and Danyal doesn’t need to make it worse.

A thousand more questions rush through his head. Each one bitten back with practiced force.

Instead he dips his head briefly, aiming for a show of respect, whatever that might mean here. However little he means it. Danyal can adjust regardless.

“Hn.”

Danyal lifts his head. That was the only response?

They uproot him entirely, chain him, throw him into unfamiliar waters where everything-everyone- is in new danger and all he does is grunt?

Danyal bites his tongue hard, letting his head lift, carefully non-defiant. He’s not quite sure his eyes get the message because he can feel the glare from them.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred pipes in, tone sharp.

Batman sighs, but the set of his shoulders changes, no longer so heavily lined with suspicion.

“What do you know about why Damian was-" There’s an even sharper cough from Alfred. Another sigh, “Fine. What has Talia already told you about me?”

Danyal glances between them, purposefully keeping his eyes from jumping down to the metal around his wrists.

No one else speaks.

“I know that you are Batman, the Dark Night of Gotham. You are also the detective, great enough to impress the Demon’s Head, Ra’s Al Ghul. The Demon’s daughter informed me you were dead.”

There’s a slight twitch on Batman’s face. “I survived Darkseid’s attack, although it led to me being lost in time and assumed dead for nearly a year,” Batman’s eyes flick across the room, almost considering, “Red Robin was responsible for my return just over a year ago.”

Red Robin. Timothy Drake. The one Ra’s favored. The second source of expectations placed on Danyal.

And he was lost in time? What did that consist of, what did it mean for Batman? Did it matter if it didn’t affect Danyal?

“I see.” He says. Silence lingers. They still expect him to speak. He hedges his bets, asking something he actually cares about, “Why am I here, Batman?”

The question seems to be expected and yet still strike with surprise.

“I… regrettably, did not know you were… present at the league. I do not believe in their methods and would not have left you there had I known.”

And that makes it all okay. Danyal wants to scream. But he narrows his eyes instead, only more suspicious, “And why were you there then?”

“We followed the shadows that had taken Damian. He told us who you were.”

Danyal pauses, leaning back slightly. They were willing to answer his questions, to actually talk with him. Of course they were, they were meant to be heroes.

But it had been so long since he’d actually talked with anyone other than Ra’s, and their conversations were a battleground of expectations and tests.

He fights with his conscious knowledge of this and the habits that have been beaten into him so thoroughly.

“Who is… Damian?” He asks, watching their reactions for the answer.

All three seem surprised by the question. But not angry. Of course not, he reminds himself.

“You’ve mentioned him several times like I am supposed to know who he is.” He had barely been told anything since his forceful return, and any knowledge he had from before stopped at Dick Grayson. And then Timothy Drake.

Danyal had purposefully ignored the hero world he had lived in-

He forces his eyes up to meet Batman’s, noting the hesitance in the set of his shoulders.

“Damian is… your brother. He was.. Talia’s son, before he came to me just a few years ago. He was raised in the league.”

Danyal blinks, anger disbelieving in his chest. Is that what she did?

“When.”

There’s no response, save a twitch of Batman’s eyebrow.

“When,” Danyal says again, his breathing controlled, “Did he come to you? How old was he? How long ago?”

They seem to pick up on the way Danyal’s tone has changed. Good for them.

“Nearly three years ago. He was ten.” Batman answers, voice rough. Tinged with curiosity and unfulfilled questions.

Danyal breathes deeply, his heart rate picking up against his wishes. Icy rage flares.

The beeping of the machine at his side matches the pounding in his chest, uneven, unbalanced, uncontrolled.

Keep it under control. Keep it. Under. Control.

Control is power. Control is strength. Control is the only thing that will ever be enough.

He breathes deeper. Holding his breath. Once. Twice.

The beeping is steadier with each tone.

“Danyal?” An old voice asks beside him. It’s Alfred. The butler.

Danyal shifts his jaw from its clench, “I am fine.” His eyes slide back into focus, still on Batman, “Damian is your son then.”

Batman nods solemnly, a heavier sigh through his chest, “Talia and I have had an… interesting relationship. But I loved her. Once. She has never failed to make me regret it.”

That was why she had visited him. Her words. What she had almost said. Talia had wished he was Damian, wished he was Bruce. Just not Danyal of course. The weapon she discarded for a better version. One she could love.

One who would be heir.

Batman continues, “Talia is Damian’s mother, told him he would be my heir, as I’m sure you were but-” Batman stops, looking at Danyal as confusion flicks across his face, “You weren’t.”

“I was never told I would be heir of the Batman, only of the Demon’s head.” This, at least, Danyal is familiar with, “That’s the only reason they needed me: to be their weapon made from the Demon Head’s enemy.” Danyal breathes, “A weapon does not have parents, and I have never been more than a weapon to them, crafted for the league’s purpose. For Ra’s.”

Ra’s is the reason Danyal is alive at all. Is the only reason he has survived the league, but he is also the reason Danyal had to, no- has to survive.

Danyal drops his eyes, tired, so so tired, like he always is. Unerringly, his eyes find the shine of the metal around his wrist. Arm held carefully still to keep from jostling it, even as his other hand has found its way to his lap.

“You can’t really believe that,” Dick says, disbelief in his own voice, unsurety in the frame of an unfamiliar language.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

And it doesn’t. It only matters what he can do. That’s he’s strong. He just has to be strong enough. Ra’s is the reason Danyal suffers, has always been, and Danyal will never let him escape that.

Silence lasts. Danyal quickly grows tired of it.

Luckily, Batman breaks it, “Why were you exposed to the Lazarus waters?” He asks, voice rigid and flat once more.

Perhaps the casualness is getting to him because Danyal manages to lift one lip in a slight sneer, “The only reason anybody uses the Lazarus Pits.”

The Batman stays silent, clearly talking about the unorthodox method of exposure they had resorted to.

Danyal sighs this time, serious, “My heart is damaged. Electricity. The pits are a short term solution for it. Grandfather had said he found a long term one.” Danyal doubts it matters now. Whatever care his grandfather’d had was fragile, dependent on Danyal’s performance.

The palm of his left hand tingles sharply.

Would this be enough to tip the scale against him? What would he lose for being here? Who would he-

Danyal looks into Batman’s eyes, “Am I to be a prisoner here?”

The man glances over him at the two on the other side, Danyal doesn’t follow it, nor the silent conversation he’s sure is happening.

Instead, Danyal focuses his ears, senses sharpened by training, by the pits, by his accident… and turns his attention to the person hiding in an alcove above them.

Low breathing, higher pitched, the scent of sword polish and hair gel. The person was small and armed.

“You’re not a prisoner… but if you leave.. you’ll be in danger,” Batman says, voice deep, “We can’t let that happen.”

So either be followed or don’t leave. What great options.

Danyal tries not to scowl, not to show any inflection at it, “And do I have to stay here? In your…. Cave?”

“It might be difficult to move- uh.. the medical things-” Nightwing starts, but Danyal cuts him off by swiftly removing the IV tucked in the crook of his elbow.

He presses his thumb against the small well of blood as he looks forward.

Alfred shouts, jolting towards him, “Master Danyal! That is hardly sterile-“

Danyal’s eyes snap to him the moment the title leaves his mouth, heart stilling for a second, commands in his eyes. Alfred falls still.

Danyal lets it fall away the next second, barely two beats missed. The beeping starts again.

“I see.” Alfred straightens, stepping forward slowly to turn off the IV and coil it, removing other monitors, “Another one for the dramatics then.”

Nightwing steps up, hands out placatingly, “There’s..mm really no need, Danyal, uh-” He glances back to Batman, “Of course you can leave the cave-,” the next words are in bright clear English, “I’m sure there’s already a room picked out for you.”

“Right you are Master Dick,” Alfred says, “Young sir, do you need any help moving?” He directs to Danyal.

He wants to rip his hand from the metal cuff. Snap the thin chain to pieces.

Instead he looks to Nightwing, then Batman, “The restraints?” He says, voice as empty of want as he can make it.

The click of the key in the lock echoes in his ear and it’s only through practiced calm that Danyal does not immediately jerk his arm away from it. Instead, he calmly retracts his hand, bracing slightly against the bed as he turns and plants his feet on the floor.

The others have already moved out of his way, watching intently, waiting for him to fall- to fail.

Danyal straightens his legs. He stands. He breathes. He controls his heart. He walks forward.

He does not fall. He doesn’t have the option to fall.

“I can go now.” He says, looking at them. His knuckles are white on the edge of the bed.

Nightwing looks at Batman once more. The man grunts, then turns from the room in a way that he can only imagine would perfectly flare a cape.

Danyal’s feet feel like they’re filling with cement. Nightwing stares at him expectantly. Danyal understands expectations- but these ones, it leaves him helpless and-

“Follow me then, dear boys,” Alfred says, stepping in front smoothly, already moving towards the door, “We can go upstairs, I’ll start on a meal and Master Dick can show you the rooms.”

Nightwing goes next, leaving Danyal to follow not quite behind him, the angle purposeful to keep him in sight.

Nightwing casts a wary glance to him every few minutes, continuing a light chatter with Alfred. Danyal stares forward, taking in the cave from his peripheral - computer, showers, training mats, an unfamiliar shadow watching him, armory, swords, knifes, suits, cars and vehicles lined up on platforms, a t-Rex, giant penny, a glass case- Danyal lets his eyes linger on the shadow, never faltering his steps.

His neck itches at the attention.

He looks forward. Nightwing is looking at him again, snapping forward the moment Danyal’s eyes narrow. Good.

The steps are slightly narrow, dark, but they come out to a warmly lit study. Dark wood, papers, books on shelves, a portrait on the wall, pictures on the desk, three black hair boys, another of only a single with stiff posture, a ballet dancer- they keep walking. The door-clock- closes behind them like the clamping of an artery.

Nightwing and Alfred’s conversation continues in smooth, low-toned English. Danyal blinks, slowly, slower than he needs to, for a breath of a second relishing in the almost familiarity of it all, the dissonance from the last three years alone enough to well emotion in his chest.

His eyes open. He continues after them.

“This is where I’ll leave you, I’ll be up with some food some young sir,” Alfred says abruptly, turning towards a swinging door that reveals a glimpse of a stainless kitchen.

“So…” Nightwing says, swinging his arms a bit at his sides, “uh… I can show you the room you can sleep in, yes?”

Danyal’s shoulders tighten, rising from a subconscious millimeter slouch. He nods stiffly.

His heart remains under control. Always under control.

“So this is the Wayne Mansion, you can go for food any time, uh…” There’s an unsure pause as they start up the stairs, “You can meet the rest of us soon maybe, a correct introduction to Damian…depends on Bruce really… he can be … over …over.”

Nightwing looks at Danyal properly, “I’m usually better at this, most of the bat kids know the League dialect but… I haven’t exactly practiced it.”

Danyal stares at him. He doesn’t want to hear the sound of the League’s twisting words, he wants to leave. He wants to find his family, protect them, get them as far away from Ra’s al Ghul and the league as possible. He wants to go back to Ra’s convince him to let his family go if Danyal stays willingly. Wants a blade strong enough to run the man through and-

“I know you are probably stressed and this is all unfamiliar but … we want you to stay… you won’t be hurt here. This is different than the league, you’re safe.”

Danyal scoffs, not bothering to stop it, he hasn’t been safe since the day he tripped over a wire and died.

Nightwing doesn’t seem surprised by the response.

“This can be your room,” He says, opening a door in the hallway and gesturing a wide arm to Danyal. “The rest of us are just down the hall.”

Danyal steps in, looking around, counting exits, tactical advantages, possible listening devices- He turns around, giving Nightwing a stiff nod, “Thank you for the room.”

Nightwing still stands at his door, “Anything else I can help with for you?” He says.

Danyal considers staying silent, obedient, but he hates hearing the language at every turn, he never wants to hear it again, the words they forced in his mouth, ripping away what was in their place-

“Can you just speak English?” He says, realizing too late how weak it sounds, “You don’t have to use the league tongue, I can-English is.. fine.” Fine. Better. Familiar. A remnant of a family he’s almost certain he’s lost now.

Nightwing barely quirks a brow, eyes flicking over him.

“Can do,” He nods, “Well then… Welcome to Wayne Manor, Danyal.”

And he closes the door behind him.

'It’s just Danny, please.' He wants to whisper to the silence. But he’s grown too used to shadows and it catches in his throat.

He goes and sits on the bed. Staring out of the window. A window he can’t leave from. Where would he go? He doesn’t have anyone, they’re all in danger because of him. He can’t leave.

He’s trapped.

Always trapped.

Bound. Stuck to one place. One thing.

Emotions well in his chest, in the back of his throat, thick and dark and painful. He wants to cry. He can’t. Emotions constrict around his lungs.

And Danyal sits, staring at the wall, wishing he could cry. But the emotions just twist themselves until they’re tight enough, heavy enough to fall down, settle back like a layer of heavy chainmail over his insides.

Danyal turns on the bed, facing the wall.

It’s empty tan-beige. Neutral colors. No personality. Temporary.

This is familiar to him. This he can do.

Danyal stands again, he strips down his tunic, his shin-guards and pants- notes the lack of his typical weapons- methodically placing it on the dresser. Not his dresser, he already has one, painted blue with yellow stars back in-

Danyal gets in the shower, glad to find soap there, contemplating not using it, not wasting the energy. He watches condensation develop on the glass walls, water droplets collecting until they finally rush down the glass.

His finger lifts, already wanting to trace the letters he knows. Three lines, an H. One. i. Or e, he could write hello. Or ghost. Mom. Dad. Jazz, Sam, Tucker. Write it in English so he wouldn’t forget the way they were meant to be spelled, let the water wash it away.

His fingers ache where they’d been broken for it. For tracing letters in dirt or on mirrors, in the foggy glass at night. A break for every word.

Danyal can see his hand shake, inches from the glass. Pain and fear a leech on his bones.

He drops the hand. Turns to wash away the soap and get out, towels left on the counter.

He doesn’t even glance at the mirror as he goes out.

His tunic is where he’d left it, neatly set on the dresser top… but…

Danyal opens the drawers, changing into the boxers, the next one is dress pants and collared shirts, but in the third-

Rough denim scuffs against his fingertips.

They’re dark wash jeans, fancy and nothing like the ones his mom would buy on sale from the thrift store but…

He doesn’t let himself debate it further, he has to wear clothes and no one is here to tell him which. They put them here so they should expect him to wear it- it could be a test but he doesn’t care, let them do what they want if only to pretend the jeans are stiff from ectoplasm stains instead of fresh starch.

He chooses a white t-shirt, ignoring the collared shirts and polos that are probably meant to go over it.

He breathes, letting his shoulders drop, tilting his head back with his eyes closed, pretending for only a second that he’s getting dressed for school. Jazz is across the hall getting her books together, Sam and Tuck are on their way to walk together, his parents are already downstairs working.

'See?' He wants to say, 'I’m still the same person, nothings changed!'

The metal of the door knob clicks and Danyal’s head snaps towards the sound.

There’s nothing. Danyal doesn’t trust it, eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes the tall double doors.

“I know you’re there!” he calls out, fists ready, “Open the door and show yourself or I will!”

There’s a harsh tutt behind the door before it swings open, revealing a kid standing there. Short, black hair- hair gel-, dress slacks and shirt hiding multiple bladed weapons-

“Clearly I meant for you to know I was here, I am not incompetent,” The kid scoffs. So Nightwing wasn’t lying about them all knowing the league dialect…. Yet somehow, it sounds different coming from the kid, familiar in a way that makes Danyal's skin burn. He looks irritated, arms crossed in front of him even while his eyes wander over the room and Danyal with curiosity. And judgement.

Danyal rolls his eyes at it, “Did you need something from me, or did you just want to stand there looking like a hair gel commercial?”

The boy’s face goes red impressively fast, “How dare you-” he moves- and a knife is flying at his face, Danyal dodges, catching it in a second, shifting to throw it back but stops, half way extended. He looks at the hilt, there’s a League marking engraved on the bottom no larger than a droplet.

Danyal's eyes flick up to the boy still standing in front of him, glaring him down.

That’s all it takes before the boy jumps forward, another knife in his hand.

Danyal blocks it, twisting the arm as he drops his own acquired knife to his other hand and lunges forward.

The boy flips over his arm, and Danyal doesn’t let his surprise show as he reaches to grab the second knife he’d forced the kid to drop.

The boy tutts at him again, “So this was who Mother replaced me with? Street rabble?”

Danyal blinks, Mother? Then it clicks.

So this was Damian. The child the demon’s daughter wanted, beloved by all. Treasured. Preserved.

Danyal grits his teeth against the bitter taste in his mouth. He lunges forward, already expecting the larger dagger Damian uses to block him as he’s forced to retreat.

Danyal doesn’t stop, continuing to press him, “The Demon’s Daughter is no mother of mine,” he spits as he slams a kick against Damian’s elbow, blade dropping once more. Danyal cuts a shallow slash across Damian’s left cheek before dropping his own stolen knives.

He doesn’t stop though, continuing to push Damian back- Damian swerves to the side, grabbing his arm, flipping him, Danyal retaliates, grabbing the others shirt and taking him with him.

He catches his feet a second before the other, using it to pin him face to face with Danyal’s arm at his throat, “Maybe if you were good enough, you wouldn’t have had to be replaced at all and I never would have been forced to be here, this is your fault. I was free,” He grits out, teeth bared, “You got to live these last three years because I paid for it, and you’re angry because they don’t want you!?”

There’s something startling in Damian’s wide eyes, “What are you talking about?” He snaps, “I am Damian Al Ghul, Heir to the League, Ibn al X-“

Danyal slams him harder against the floor, cutting him off. Green simmers, almost boiling, under his skin. He grits his teeth harder against the sharp pain through his chest.

He leans closer to Damian, snarling, his grip bruising, “You don’t even know what you escaped, what Ra’s really wanted with you, do you? What being heir means. You’re nothing more than a -”

Damian jerks his head upwards, colliding with Danyal’s forehead and knocking him back with a grunt. Danyal’s grip loosens momentarily and Damian pulls free.

He slams a palm strike into Danyal’s front, pain lancing through his chest as he gasps, heart convulsing.

He moves through it by force, both rolling off each other with violent hands.

They stand opposite each other once more. Blood drips from the cut on Damian’s cheek. Danyal’s ragged breaths join Damian’s in the silence. He can hear footsteps on the stairs. His heart clenches in his chest painfully. There’s barely enough Lazarus water in his veins to keep it pumping for a week, less if he keeps this up.

The door flings open with a slam, both of them turning to look.

Batman stands there, battle calm in his eyes.

Damian turns fully at the sight of his father, but Danyal doesn’t shift from his stance.

“Father, I-“ Damian starts, but Batman just lifts a hand, silencing him.

“What. Happened.” Batman says, looking straight at Danyal, not even a question. A demand. Green tinted steel shoots up Danyal’s spine and he does nothing but glare back at the man.

Batman doesn’t break eye contact, “Damian.”

“I was determining if he was a threat. He is from the League, Father,” Damian says shortly, standing tall despite the blood on his face.

Batman looks between them briefly, and oh what a picture they must make.

Two kids, both born in the same cage, one trying to claw his way out of the chains and the other trying to fight his way in.

Exhaustion washes over Danyal, and he drops his fists, letting them hang by his sides.

Batman hums, barely a sound, but a muscle twitches in Damian’s jaw.

“Father-“

“Go Damian. Now.”

Damian looks back at him, not-quite-hate in his eyes, before dropping to a crouch to grab the knife closest to his feet with one hand and turning to leave.

Faced with Batman’s sole attention, Danyal lifts his chin defiantly, daring him to take action, to punish him, to do something that he can predict, can defend, can justify the anger he feels when he sees him.

“I know it was different in the league, but here, this is not acceptable.”

Danyal half-scoffs. He finally steps out of his stance, “I could leave.”

“That’s not-” Batman pinches the bridge of his nose, voice like gravel, “I am trying to protect you, the manor is not the league. I understand what it must have been like to be raised like that, but you can’t hurt others, no matter what teachings you’ve had. I can guarantee you won’t be hurt here, I won’t let-”

Danny huffs a dry laugh, “You won’t let?” He steps forward, rage bubbling back up, “Hurt me? I’m not worried about me, Batman. You can’t stop him. Ra’s is going to get what he wants, and as long as that is me, everyone around me is in danger, I’m dangerous. I'm a weapon, a weapon of your enemy. You can’t fix that, can you?”

“We can protect ourselves-”

Danyal scoffs again, “Because you’ve done such a good job of that already? Don’t forget, all of this is because of you, they wanted you, and now they want me because of you, Batman. You.”

Something stricken shoots through the man’s face before it flattens. Batman nods and steps back, a hand on the doorhandle, “Don’t leave.” Is all he says, before the door clicks shut.

Danyal feels the walls closing in on him like a cell.

He looks to his left.

The bathroom door is open. He can see his reflection in the mirror, any condensation gone.

Danyal stares.

When he had been younger, back in- before. Danyal would stand in front of a mirror and pick out parts he thought looked like his parents. Like a Fenton. His shoulders were from Jack obviously. His eyes and hair too. His jawline was from Maddie, his hands from Jack, and the love of engineering and planning from Maddie. He had the same legs as his mom. Same voice as his dad, always loud. If he didn’t look too hard, he could almost convince himself he was really their kid, their son.

But he could never quite place his tanned skin, or the texture of his hair. The shape of his eyes and nose. Always just a little bit wrong.

What had pretending done but put them in danger?

Danyal turns on his heel, flicking the lights off and putting a glass soap bottle on the door handle.

He knew he’d wake up regardless… but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Danyal rubs his chest with the heel of his palm as he lays down on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, staring out at the city beyond the window glass.

How close would he come to freedom before he’d have to give it up again?

And he knew he would.

For his family, he would give the Demon’s Head anything.

Everything.

If that’s what it took.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend he would fall asleep.

———

Bruce runs over Danyal’s words again and again during the flight.

'This is because of you, Batman,'

He flicks a switch.

'You.'

The landing gear lowers.

'You can’t fix this.'

He can see the way the shadows of the forest twist around the clearing.

'Dangerous.'

Wheels touch grass. Batman lands at the coordinates, just on the side of the field in front of the woman waiting for him.

'Because of you.'

He breathes.

“My Beloved, how are you?” She greets him as he descends the ramp.

Bruce says nothing. He cannot even begin to fathom what he would say if he did.

Instead, he stares at her. A woman who had once meant so much to him, whom he had nearly thrown away everything for. And who had nearly done the same for him.

But she hadn’t. Wouldn’t. And it had hurt him, but he had recovered.

And then she hurt him again.

She had stolen and lied to him in his vulnerability.

And still, he had found himself loving her.

Had allowed her to continue hurting him. Again and again. Out of a vain hope that she would change. Because he thought that he could change her. That she would change for him.

It was foolish. It was senseless.

Yet he found it just as impossible to stop.

And so she had hurt him again.

“Talia.” Her name grated against his heart, “Why did you not tell me I had another son?”

“The boy is no more yours than he is mine, Beloved,” She says with a roll of her eyes, as if explaining a basic fact, “He belongs to my father. And to the league.”

Bruce is silent. He notices a slight bruise forming on her left cheek.

Talia’s face is tight, “Do you not care about the son I have given you? Has Damian not satisfied you?”

Bruce feels the leather of his gauntlets stretch over his clenched fists.

“I deserved to know,” He near growls, “Just as I did Damian, just as I did with Jason. You cannot continue to keep my children from me-“

“If it was not for that boy, you would not have met Damian at all,” Talia snaps.

Bruce blinks. Hard.

“His return brought Damian into your arms, you should be grateful.” She spits at him like an accusation, “Damian is ours, Bruce. From our love. That boy was made before we truly knew each other, before we understood each other as we do now. He was borne of nothing more than my father’s obsession. Damian is our son, not him.”

“His name is Danyal, Talia!” Bruce bellows, “He is a child, and he is a person! Just like you, and me, and Damian, and he deserves more than to be written off as one of Ra’s al Ghul’s projects! He deserves better than this!” Than us, he doesn’t say. Deserves better than him.

Talia straightens from already perfect posture, “I made a choice Bruce, for Damian. To protect Damian. I knew our son was never meant to bear my father’s hands, he was never meant to be what Danyal is.” Talia pauses, eyes sharp on him, and he can see when she chooses her next words. Already knows they are meant to cut him, to hurt him. He steels himself and listens anyways.

“Perhaps you should ask him where he’s been all these years I’ve supposedly kept him from you, Beloved.” She says coyly, stepping forward.

“What are you talking about.”

She takes another step, “The truth of the matter is that Danyal could have gone to you any time he wanted. He chose not to. Chose to stay away.”

He stays silent.

“Oh- Did the boy not tell you?“ Talia says, barely hiding the falseness, “Danyal was living in America before he returned to his rightful duty. Almost didn’t work, but…” Talia hummed, “His gifts were fortuitous in the end. A risk well calculated, my father’s doing I suspect.”

Talia almost seems blaisé as she talks about it, but he can see the way it irks her. Her father had tricked her. Somehow. Or had manipulated her into some choice she hadn’t known about.

Batman says nothing, analyzing, taking in clues.

“Beloved,” Talia sighs, “Surely you must know, the boy must return.”

“And surely you know: I can’t let that happen.”

Talia glowers at him.

“It’s him or Damian, Bruce, you must choose, just as I did.”

“No.” Bruce growls.

“You cannot have both,” She snaps at him.

Batman stands firm, staring her down, resolute.

“You invite his anger on them both,” She snarls, “You save no one.”

Batman ignores the words. He has made it his job to make sure that’s not true. He’ll die before it is.

“Fine.” She snaps again. But she lingers for a few seconds more. The lines of her face softening.

“I remember I once loved that same unbending drive.”

It feels odd to hear her confirm something he’s not sure ever really existed.

Then Talia turns away and walks into the forest. Shadows contort and reform around her at the edges of the clearing. Slowly emptying until there’s nothing left but the trees and the grass and him, standing alone at the center of it all.

He turns to leave.

He won’t choose between his children.

He climbs the ramp.

He will protect them.

He sits down in the pilots chair, flicking switches and gears.

All of them.

Engines roar to life below him.

He will not fail.

And yet… he cannot forget her words. Twisted they may be, and just as easily lies.. but, her irritation at her father’s plans… he had always been good at telling when it was real.

'Living in America… chose to stay away,'

Living in America?

Had he been secluded at one of their bases here? Had it even been close?

Had Danyal been just miles away, suffering, and BruceDanyal hadn’t known?

But it felt wrong. What Talia had said sat like a jagged puzzle piece, poking and prodding at him, not quite fitting the theories he threw at it.

‘Returned.’

Did she only mean returned to the League’s home base? Closer to their original strongholds in Asia?

It didn’t make sense. She would have crafted the words differently, to drive her point home.

She’d said ‘supposedly kept him from you’ like she hadn’t. Like she hadn’t kept Danyal hidden, the way she had Damian. It didn’t add up.

She could have just been lying. Bruce didn’t think she was. It couldn’t be that simple. No, there was something specific about the way she’d phrased it all, like she was telling him a secret. Like it was something Ra’s had hidden. Like something was hiding.

Batman narrowed his eyes, staring out at the landscape in front of him as it rushed past.

Whatever it was, whatever she wasn’t telling him, Batman needed to figure it out before it came back to hurt him or his family. Danyal included.

Then there was the rest of it.

The ‘gifts’ that Talia had mentioned.

He knew Danyal had been forced to interact with the Lazarus waters, but he didn’t know to what extent. What it had done to him.

It’d had an effect on him, that much was clear by the acid green of his eyes when he stood off against them in the Batcave. And earlier when Bruce had first interrupted the fight with Damian.

He didn’t even think Danyal had noticed they were glowing then. Too defensive to think about it. Or perhaps he was used to it.

How many times had he been submerged? Had been so injured that Ra’s saw fit to put him in?

How many times had Bruce not been there to protect him from it?

Even if he was only acting out of defensiveness… was that not Bruce’s fault too?

That he still felt unsafe in the Manor. That he didn’t know if Bruce would act the same as Ra’s, as the League.

And Danyal was right, he was responsible for the pain the league caused him, for them hunting him. If he had never let himself be pulled into Talia’s web- or if she was to be believed… even before that.

When exactly? When had Batman become enough of a threat that Ra’s had decided to use him? Was it because he had refused to be his heir? Or before that? Before or after Dick? Jason?

He doesn’t even know how old Danyal is. How long Batman had let him suffer because of h-

“I do hope you aren’t planning to brood like this with your children around, Master Bruce,” Alfred says, cutting through his thoughts, “I don’t believe your pride would survive the repercussions.”

Bruce glances at the monitor Alfred has decided to call from.

“Hn.” Bruce grumbles.

Alfred is right, his children would tease him mercilessly for ‘brooding’ as they called it. If only Dick at least, who hasn’t missed a chance to do so since he’d been a freshly christened Robin.

How would Danyal fit into that? Would he grow to tease like the others? Or remain stoic like Damian?

“I’ll be approaching in 30 minutes, A.” He says. ‘Will Danyal be there?’ He doesn’t say.

Alfred says nothing in response. The engines fill the silence.

He grits his teeth, he just wants to know the situation, to stay updated, he wants to know if something’s happened or anything’s changed.

He sighs, forcefully loosening his jaw, “Who’s going out tonight?”

“Mm, I believe Miss Brown and Master Tim were discussing going together. Master Thomas is in bed, as is usual, though he did mention he’d be out early.. and I believe Madame Cassandra is staying in. She seems to have found a new project.”

Batman hums in confirmation. He wants to know what Cass had found interesting. More than that, he wants to know if Danyal was okay, Damian too.

“It seems it circles around our newest resident, though she hasn’t shown herself to him yet. Master Dick also seems to think the young sir is his duty as much as Master Damian had been.”

Batman feels his lips tug downwards as he grunts in response. Damian’s first year with them was… a regret. His own absence was devastating. He’d have to find some way to assure Dick that Danyal wasn’t his responsibility this time, that he could still be his own person. Perhaps he should encourage Dick to return to Blüdhaven. Affirm the family would be alright without him.

Batman sees Gotham’s cloud of smog come into view. The bay follows soon after, and the buildings next.

“I’m coming in now.”

“Very good sir.” Alfred answers, nodding in his peripheral before the call clicks off.

When the Batplane arrives to the cave, Alfred is nowhere to be seen. The other’s suits are missing as well, meaning they are already out for the night.

Batman doesn’t pause more than to look around, already heading to the Batcomputer with determined steps.

He enters his access codes, running through his security checks unconsciously, mind spinning on theories and clues.

He picks apart his and Talia’s interaction again and again, trying to pull everything he can from it and put it into his report file. Maybe if he can just read over it again, remember something else, maybe it will be enough to protect Danyal, maybe it will be enough to stop Ra’s, maybe it will be enough understand why Talia did this to h-

A gentle hand slides over his just as his finger goes to slam the enter button of the keyboard.

He looks over his shoulder, already recognizing the feeling of stitching against his suit.

Cass looks at him meaningfully. Her gentle hand shifts into a lean against his arm, the pressure a comfort. She stares up at the Batcomputer and reads through his writing piece by piece.

Bruce waits for her. He knows she struggles with so many words. Knows that she gained more from watching him type it than she will from reading an exact account but the details will be helpful anyways.

She nods to him, fingers tapping lightly against his arm as she thinks it over, scanning and rescanning the document.

Cass has been developing fidgets recently, small twitches of movement that don’t serve a purpose than to let her move.

Bruce wants to smile every time. He’s pretty sure they’re on purpose, but still.. it’s freedom for her.

She nudges him, reaching for a button across the keys. It flicks to a camera screen a second later.

The one in Danyal’s room.

Bruce feels a twinge of guilt at the disappointment Cass aims at him before they both refocus on the image.

The empty image.

Danyal is not in the room, and Bruce feels his eyebrows scrunch as he goes to pull up the other camera feeds to locate him, make sure he hasn’t been taken-

“Downstairs.” Cass says.

Batman gets a half turn around, checking the cave for a foreign presence, before Cass stops him again.

She points to the screen, drawing his attention to a bottom square.

Danyal stands in the hallway of the manor, staring at the portraits on the walls.

He feels a light tap on his shoulder in parting before Cass’s presence at his side disappears silently.

He stares up at the figure of his son standing in the hallway, mind still whirring about possibilities and clues and lies and secrets.

Danyal continues to stand in front of the portrait for another minute, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

He rips his eyes away from the portrait, turning down the hallway and ducking into the kitchen.

It’s empty when he gets there. Then again, the whole mansion had seemed empty. Aside from the ever constant, ever familiar feeling of eyes weighing down on him.

Danyal considers making himself food.

He considers jumping out of the window and seeing how far he could get.

He wonders if their cabinets have something he’d know and could do himself or if he’d be hopelessly lost.

He wonders how long it will take for the Demon’s Head to find him. Wonders what he’ll do when he does. Wonders if his-

He stops himself short.

“May I offer you some tea and snacks, young sir?”

Danyal turns slightly to face the old butler-Alfred- who’d entered behind him and nods.

Can he even say no?

Alfred gestures to a chair set up by the built in breakfast nook.

He sits. Even as the domesticity of it all throttles his heart in his chest. The way they must eat together every morning, appear together in every photo, smiling. A family portrait. Batman’s family. Batman got to keep his. But Danny’s is tra-

Danyal breathes purposefully, staring down at his hands, clenching them tighter.

Suddenly a hand reaches across his vision, pressing a button on an ancient looking miniature TV sitting just tucked into the kitchen corner.

It flickers to life on some random news channel, low mindless chatter softening the air.

Danyal feels his shoulders lower slightly, just barely, as the silences retreats. He glances up, expecting to find Alfred there staring at him, questioning him, why he’s acting like this, why he-

Alfred’s back is to him. The man busy at the stove with the tea kettle.

“I hope you like lemon ginger tea,” the man says, getting a small jar from a cupboard, “It’s been quite a bit since I’ve had the opportunity to make some.”

Danyal doesn’t quite trust it, still watching the man warily. He doesn’t understand why they would welcome him into their house, Batman or no, he was a threat to them. He was nothing but a threat.

“How about something to eat?”

Danyal watches the man move over to the fridge.

Something moves in his peripheral and his eyes jump to the side.

Narrowed eyes comb over the fancy china case against the wall. But he can’t see anything odd. The glass is clear, refracted reflection shining back him over the china. A dark phone sitting on the ledge. Dark wood pressed against the wall. He doesn’t know what he saw.

Alfred sets a small plate down in front of him with a light clatter, immediately turning back as the tea kettle begins to screech.

The movement makes a small carrot tumble off, rolling across the counter to Danyal.

He stares at it.

He breathes in, out, in out, in out in out too fast. Too fast-

A finger rolls to a stop in front of him and he can only stare at it as strong arms grip and pull him back, keeping him restrained.

Granite counters blend until they are stone floors.

He can’t look away from it. Confusion bleeds in with denial and regret and bloodthirsty stubbornness.

“Look at me, boy.”

Danny’s head is jerked back by his hair, forcing his eyes up to his instructor.

The man glares down at him.

“I have taught warriors better than you by a thousand, and you dare to try to escape under my hand?”

Danny tries to grin, barely managing a crude sneer, coppery blood in his teeth, “You should have kept a better eye on me, you fucking nutcase.”

His eyelid flicks closed automatically as cold gunmetal rests against it.

“Say that again.”

Danny swallows his regret, in for a penny in for a pound. He juts his chin up, forcing the man to follow the movement with his gun.

“What, were you dropped as a bab-” His open eye strains to see his instructor’s thumb press down the hammer of the gun. A warning.

He can feel his hands shake under the assassins hold. His throat burns.

“You scared of a chil-?” He barely has time to register the hand moving before the butt of the gun slams into his nose with a sickening crack.

Pain floods his face. He gets half a shout out before his chin is grabbed by unforgiving hands.

He stares into the man’s cold eyes.

Danny says nothing. Too focused on trying to breathe when his nose is filling with blood and his mouth is clamped nearly shut.

“Better.”

He resists the urge to spit in the man’s face as he steps back, straightening and waving a hand to the assassins. Even without their hands on him he can feel their presence looming behind him.

Danny drops his head, curling in on himself as much as he can, trying to ignore the feeling of blood as it slides down his face.

His eyes are left to stagnate on the finger thrown to the ground in front of him.

Pale skin stands stark against dark floors, contrasted by blood and dirt marring it. He can see the calluses and small scars.

He doesn’t understand.

He might.

He doesn’t want to.

“You are not the only one I can punish to get my point across, boy.”

He looks closer at the finger. At the nicks of careless knives and tools, of a hand that had cradled- no- please no-

“The oaf was very insistent it be him.”

Danny snaps his head up, fear striking through his chest, “No! Please-“ he catches himself, “Please don’t hurt them! They don’t- Hurt me, just me! They don’t deserve it, they didn’t do anything-!”

Sharp eyes stab into him. Fury behind them.

“Hurt me, Master Shrike, just me. Please.”

There’s a pause as the man continues to stare down at him before he lifts one lip in a sneer, “Do you think you command me, child?”

Danny freezes, “I don’t- I- No, Master. I don’t.”

“Then why,” Shrike near growls, “Do you beg me? Why do you plead like you have a right to ask for anything?”

“I don’t-” 'I don’t understand,' he starts to say but he’s cut off by Shrike’s boot hitting his face. He’s learned by now when not to dodge. He can’t give them another reason to hurt his family.

A second kick lands.

“You will be quiet!”

Danny waits for a beat, then slowly pulls himself up from the floor, not lifting his eyes.

He can still see his father’s finger on the floor.

“You do not command me. You are a tool! A weapon in the Demon’s hand! I choose to act, to punish or break you! You do not act, do not speak until you are to be used!”

Danyal stays silent.

He wants to scream, to fight back, they train him and they train him but he can’t fight back because if he does- his eyes flick to the bloodied finger.

He can let them. For his family, he can let them call him a weapon, can let them say he has no will. He can do this one thing.

He’s not giving up, he tells himself. But for his family’s safety, he can let them think he is. Just this once.

Danny stops, eyes shutting for just a second as he bends into a kneel, holding his hands up in front of him.

There’s a pause, cruel satisfaction radiating off the man in front of him.

Danyal licks his lips, steeling himself, “I am ready for my lesson,” Danny forces the words out, “Master Shrike.”

He doesn’t bother to look up and see the man’s sneer.

“Good.”

He sees the kick coming.

He still doesn’t move.

He stays still.

The world moves around him. Voices. Muttering. The sound of dishes, water being poured.

There’s a carrot.. orange and bright in front of him.

His heart is beating too fast. His eyes sting.

Calm down. Control it. Control it. Stop, stop-

A tea cup clatters in front of him.

“Sir Danyal, are you quite alright?” He hears someone ask. Alfred. It’s Alfred. Batman’s butler. He’s not-

He tries to speak, ‘I’m fine’ he tries to say. But his throat constricts. He simply nods, staring down at the carrot.

A freaking carrot.

It’s ridiculous.

He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s. Fine.

Danyal takes a deep breath. He breathes out. Silently.

He does it again.

He holds it until his heart slows down, stops stuttering from beat to beat.

He breathes out.

He reaches for the tea, ignoring the eyes on him-always watching him- ignoring the way his hands shake.

He drinks the tea. Let’s it burn his throat and distract him.

He breathes.

Alfred does not turn to look at him. Staying busy at the sink with dishes that already look clean.

He is thankful.

He breathes.

Low murmurs fill impenetrable silence. Danyal drags his eyes over to the small TV.

His breath stops.

A banner of words crawls across the bottom of the screen.

‘DalvCo factories shutting down after mass destruction.’

He tries to tear his eyes away.

‘Four buildings exploded just after midnight on Saturday in downtown Chicago, Elmerton, and Red Lake. 12 workers dead. Police have not caught the perpetrators.’

And they won’t.

Danyal can recognize a message.

He knows what it means. Who is sending it.

He tries not to let it show how his mind begins spinning. Churning out plans and strategies- If an attempt had cost his father a finger, what would they do to them now, because of Danyal?- he had to fix this.

He looks down to his shaking hands. He stops them. And the tea in his cup stills.

He stops. Pauses. He eyes Alfred still at the sink without looking up.

He places it just on the edge of the counter. Then turns away and lets go.

The cup falls.

It shatters against the floor. Danyal jumps up from his seat at the same time Alfred turns around.

“What’s happened?” He says, already hustling over with a towel. “Are you hurt?”

Danyal steps away and around him, towards the door.

He almost bumps into the display case until the reflection of light off the phone catches his eye. A small ballet sticker sits on the back of the case.

His hand moves before he can think and slips it into his pocket. He looks at Alfred.

“It’s no trouble, Young Danyal,” Alfred says as he crouches over where Danyal had been sitting, “I’ll clean this up and get you more. You can help me prepare for breakfast-“

Danyal considers knocking him out, so he can’t stop him, or alert anyone, but a body is more suspicious. Instead he paints his face with fear and steps out of the room as quick as he can.

He turns down the hallway, trying to remember where he’d walked from the cave.

Mere hours ago.

He goes the opposite direction, following a halls as far to the outer edges of the mansion as he can, typing in Vlad’s number with nervous hands as he goes.

He makes a final turn before he opens a window, glances backwards, and jumps out.

He lands in a roll, already running. His finger presses call and he listens to the phone ringing as he runs.

Once. Twice. He swipes branches out of his way. Three times. Four. Five. Six.

‘We’re sorry the number-‘

Danyal hangs up and presses again.

He doesn’t stop running.

He just has to protect them. He has to warn Vlad. Warn whoever he can. Tell someone.

It rings again. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Six- ‘We’re sorr-‘

Danyal presses it again and runs faster.

If he can get caught by the League maybe Ra’s will overlook it. Maybe he can still protect them. He can fix this. Please just let him fix this.

‘We’re s-‘

He tries again.

And Danyal continues rushing through the woods, wishing his feet would carry him faster, further, higher-

The sound of his steps pounds in his ears. The phantom feeling of eyes on his back.

He slams his finger down on Vlad’s number again, letting the dial tone drown his heartbeat out.

Once. Twice. Three times, Frick! Vlad pick up! Four- the speakerphone clicks.

“Vlad!”

There’s barely a pause, “DANNY!?”

Danny nearly trips, his heart stuttering dangerously, hopefully.

“Dani?…” He says, then jolts to his senses and continues running, a glance thrown behind him, “Dani, how do you have Vlad’s phone, are you okay? Have you been to Amity?”

“Danny, where the hell are you!? I’ve been looking all over for-“

“Dani, you have to listen okay, there’s dangerous people after me- after us-“ Danyal jumps another log, scaling a small stone wall, “You can’t fight them, you have to run, they’ve got my family, Tuck, Sam-“

“Danny wait no listen to me-!”

“You can’t fight them! You can’t, okay!?” Danny scans his eyes back and forth frantically as he runs, mind spinning, calculating how he’s going to get out, away, controlling his heart rate as much as he can, “You have to promise me! Just find Vlad, get out of Amity. Warn him- I couldn’t - my parents- you have to-“

“Danny, listen to me!” Dani yells, stopping him in his tracks.

“Your parents are out, Danny,” She says, voice rushed, but his ears barely hear it. “They escaped, they called us weeks ago to start looking for you- Danny, they’re out.”

She goes quiet. Waiting for Danny.

His parents were-

Danny draws in a deep breath, standing stock still in the middle of the trees, stolen phone still pressed to his ear.

He couldn’t believe it.. they were-

Something clangs against a tree behind him and Danyal whips around ready to-

His head blossoms with pain.

Everything goes dark.

This is included in my one-shot collection(for now) on Ao3, under same name. The collection is Things that Could Exist by Snaileer.

Tags:

@thecrystallabyrinth @isnt-that-grape @riverdancingwerewolves @mimblizzy @chaos-deimos-et-eris @miraculousandmore2 @mys-tia @jitteryjuttury @moonlight-opal @nerdypaintbrush @thedragonqueen1998 @luminanightfall @cowarddragon @cyrwrites @kamireadsmcu

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allurilove · 3 days

Note

Hello! can we get yandere!rich!boyfriend x rich!sunshine!reader where reader got extremely kind with this new student at their school…

got my idea from korean’s drama hierarchy thoo..🤓

Sure thing! I’ve seen a bit of that show on tiktok lol, and it looks cool.

It wasn’t odd for him to see you be so giddy. You were always nice to everyone around you, and even more to the less fortunate. He crossed his arms, and leaned against his car as he watched you like a hawk. He saw how your eyes would shine, a big smile on your face, and the way your body was awfully close to the new student made him uncomfortable.

He felt like he had a good reason to be upset. Most of the time people thought you were flirting with them when you were just being friendly. He had to save and steer you away from uncomfortable conversations and situations. Your boyfriend silently got off his car and approached you two. He stood behind you, and his hands in his pockets as he looked at the student you were taking too.

They looked average. They didn’t own anything flashy, and nothing stands out from their clothing except for a bangle bracelet on their wrist. It looked cheap. Your boyfriend watched them try to continue the conversation, they slipped in compliments, and asked numerous questions about the school. So, the fact that this total nobody even believed they have a chance with you annoyed him. His body tensed up as he saw their hand reach for yours, and he instinctively pulled you towards him. Your boyfriend just smiled, pretending that everything was alright, but the tight grip on your wrist said otherwise. He’s not the one to cause a scene, and he wasn’t about to argue with someone he considered to be beneath him.

The fact that you gave anyone the time and day was fascinating. Usually, someone of your status and wealthy background is prone to be a bit snooty. That’s how he’s like after all. There was no use in talking to someone that could barely relate nor afford the privilege and lifestyle you two had.

“Do you mind if I steal my partner for a second?” Your yandere boyfriend said, his brow raised, and really it wasn’t much of a question. He was telling the other student to leave. Just atleast trying to be less of a dick about it.

Before the person you were taking to could say anything, he pulled you with him as you two now walked inside the school. “You don’t have to talk to strangers, you know?” your boyfriend sighed as he had you walk behind him. His hand still on your wrist as he used his body to shove through the crowd of students.

“They’re not a stranger. They’re a fellow student-“

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Tch, same thing. Everyone is a stranger if they aren’t me.” He pushed you into an empty classroom, and he made you sit down onto a chair he pulled out for you. “Do you have to befriend everything that breathes? Are you not satisfied with just me?”

His hand smoothed out your school uniform, and he fixed your red colored tie. “I’m just trying to protect you. No one cares for you more than I do.”

“You agree, right? That I’m the best thing that has ever came into your life.” Your boyfriend dropped this hand down to your thigh. “I love you… and I want everything good to happen to you.”

“Don’t talk to anyone else ever again.”

#Allurilove asks #yandere rich boyfriend x rich sunshine reader #yandere classmate (yearbook guy) 2.0 #rich yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x gn reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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All In 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: who's a tired bitch?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky drives you home. Just him. No Merv. You have your books and the pajamas but it feels like so much more.

His fingers tap on the shifter. You’re overly aware of his every move. You try to shrink yourself in the seat, feeling crowded with only him in the car. His hand slips and he reaches over to rest it on your thigh. He rubs you through your pants.

“You alright?” He asks in a grit.

“Yeah,” you squeak, fixating on his touch. “Fine.”

“You don’t gotta be so nervous. You know I like you,” his fingers continue to move, sending ripples through you, “not much you can do to change that either.”

You press yourself into the seat and flick your eyes up to the windshield. You recognise that house. Your thoughts rush over you and you grab his hand, squeezing it.

“Stop,” you say.

He hits the brake and you flutter your lashes, looking at him, “just drop me here. I can walk.”

“What? Doll? What’s wrong?”

“I... well... what if someone sees you?” You ask, “my mom, my sister... they’d wanna know why you were driving me home if I’m just working at the hotel, wouldn’t they?”

He considers you and tilts his head, “hm, you’re clever too, doll. Suppose they would.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not--”

You keep your hand on his but don’t try to move him. Nor does he pull away. Instead, he squeezes your leg and lets out a purr.

“I’ll make you a deal, doll, you give me a kiss and I’ll do what you say. You can go, enjoy your books, try on your jammies,” his blues eyes blaze at you, “and I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for you. Until tomorrow.” He makes a pained expression, “you know a man can only take so much when it comes to pretty women.”

You giggle, overwhelmed by his words. No one ever calls you pretty, only your mom. In fact, Roxie always said it was good you have a brain because your looks won’t get you very far, and she wasn’t proven wrong. Not until him.

“Okay, uh,” you gulp and look down at his hand, slowly peeling yours off of him, “I just...”

You touch the seat belt and follow it down to the buckle. You click the button and let it repel behind the seat. You swallow again, trying to wet your dry mouth. If it gets you home without any extra questions, you can give him a kiss. It wasn’t so bad earlier, was it. It made you feel... a lot.

You shift and lean towards him. His hand crawls up your leg to your hip as he urges you close, himself angling over the space between your seats. Your gaze meet his sapphire irises and you squeeze your eyelids shut. He’s so handsome you could melt. And he want a kiss. From you!

You press your lips to his. He growls and his other hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you there before you can pull away. His tongue glides along your lips and delves past them. Like earlier, he invades your mouth eagerly, drawing you into him as he groans. You grasp the front of his shirt and squeak.

The smell of his rich cologne seeps into your nose and his warmth swirls around you. You’re trapped by more than his strength; you’re completely swept up in his need. You’ve never felt anything like that. No one has ever wanted you as much as he has. Even if you’re scared, it’s nice to feel that.

He leaves you breathless as he parts his lips from yours, hovering just before you as his pants shallowly. His tongue pokes out and traces his lips. He purrs and his eyes threaten to swallow you up. He’s even more handsome up close; ever line is like a paint stroke in a masterpiece, every hair is placed perfectly, and his features are sculpted just so.

You blink and feel your chest crush. He's so much better than you; more attractive, richer, older, smarter... Your eyes gloss over just a little with the reminder and his hand slips down to your neck, his grip on your slackening. A divot forms between his brows in disappointment.

“What’s the matter, doll?” He rasps.

You shake your head and force a smile, “nothing,” you eke between taut cheeks, “I just... I don’t want to let you down.”

“Doll, you can’t do that,” he chuckles, “you gotta trust yourself. Trust me. I mean every word I say.” He exhales and looks you up and down, “I want you so bad...” His fingers curl into your neck and you feel him shake, “you...” He closes his eyes, his lips slightly open, and he pulls his hand off of you. He recoils and sits back in his seat. “You should go before I just gotta show ya.”

Is it a threat? It sounds like one. Your blood runs cold as he balls his hand to a fist. He puffs through his nostrils, eyes still closed as if he’s fighting himself. You reach back to grab the bag from behind the seat and pull it into your lap.

“Thank you, Bucky, for the drive home,” you say, “and for everything else. It’s all so nice.”

“Doll,” he dips his head down, “anything...” His fist tightens, “have a good night.”

“You too,” you chirp and pull on the door handle.

It doesn't open. Panic pricks in your chest as you search for the lock. You hear a pop and glance over as Bucky presses a button. The door unlocks and you nearly fall out of the car.

You right yourself and close the door gently with a sheepish look in his direction. He watches you, reaching to grip the steering wheel. You give a tiny wave and slowly turn away. There’s a giddiness in you. Even if you’re entirely out of your element and can’t quite believe any of it, you feel special. You’ve never really felt that. Just forgotten.

You start down the street. You don’t look back until you get to the corner and look back. Bucky sits still in the car, just where he stopped. You can’t see through the tinted windows. His headlights flash, a signal but for what, you’re not sure.

You turn and continue onto your mother’s street. You stop just at the threshold and look down at the bag in your hand. You don’t like to lie but you need one. You walk up to the front door and onto the small porch. You enter quietly, hoping maybe you won’t be heard. You’ve never struggled very much before going unnoticed.

Your sister lays on the couch in the breadth of the oscillation fan. It’s hot. The news said there’s a heat wave. You’re feeling it now. You almost feel bad that you’d been too busy to notice before. That you’d been in nice places where every detail, including the temperature, is perfect.

“Finally home,” Roxie sneers without looking over the back of the couch, “long shifts at the casino, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” you do your best to keep the bag from crinkling. “Busy.”

“That’s what a job is. Try a night at the club. That shit is chaos.”

“Sure, uh, I can’t imagine,” you shuffle into the kitchen.

You expect to find your mom waiting for you but it’s empty. You go to your room and hide the bag on the other side of your dresser. You close your door and come back out. She’s there, in her robe with a bonnet on her head.

“Mom,” you croak, “hi, uh--”

“How was it? First day!” She chimes.

“Uh, yeah it...” your voice trails off as your jaw locks and you fear the truth spilling out. The day flows through your mind; the kissing, the books, the food, and more kissing. “...was a lot.”

“Oh, yes, well, a casino,” she chuckles, “that can’t be anything but hectic. So what do they got you doing? Dealer? That’s exciting.”

“No, er, no, just... cleaning,” you stammer.

“Right, yes, I forgot. You said before. I’m sure people make a mess there too,” she scrunches her nose, “so, what do you feel like for dinner? We’ve been waiting on you. Tacos? Spaghetti?”

“Oh, I’m not very hungry,” you say, “sorry, but I’ll help you cook.”

“You should eat, honey,” she insists.

“I now, it’s just...” you look up at the ceiling and think. You scour your mind for your brief recollection of the casino, “they have a buffet at work. Employees eat free and... I got carried away.”

“Ah, lucky. Wish my work had a buffet,” she trills, “guess I should just be thankful for the health insurance.”

“Mm, yeah,” you try to smile, “so, I can help cook--”

“No, no, you just had your first day. You just relax. I’ll leave a bit extra for you, just in case,” she squeezes your shoulder then caresses your arm gently, “I hope you know how proud I am of you.”

“Oh yeah,” Roxie blusters as she appears behind you, “because scrubbing toilets is so amazing.”

She shoulders past and your mom moves out of her path. You frown and your mom gives her a sardonic look, “hey, I’m proud of you too. I’ve told you that.”

“Why? I hand out flyers to desperate men looking for one-night stands?”

“Don’t say it like that,” your mom rebukes.

“Well, it’s the truth,” she snickers, “half the night, I don’t even hand out the things. I just hang out by the hot dog seller. He gives me free food.” Roxie looks at your archly, “see, not the only one with perks.”

“Mm, I like hot dogs,” you say, “um, I’m gonna... lay down.”

“Sure thing, honey, let me know if you need anything. Oh, chamomile? I could put the kettle on.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure her as you back up. “Promise I’m fine. I, er... tomorrow, I start in the afternoon so I’m gonna sleep in.”

“Oo, that will be nice. But be careful, if you’re working late, I’m sure there’ll be some unruly people hangin’ around,” her forehead lines with concern, “I’ll give you some extra money for a cab. I don’t want you on the bus that late.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, just wanting to hide. You don’t like lying and with each word, it’s harder to hold yourself together. You don’t think you can do this. “Thanks.”

“Course, hon, whatever you need.”

You retreat to your room. You sit on the bed and stare at the wall. It’s not just today, but tomorrow, and the next day. How long until Bucky moves on to the next thing? You googled him, you’re not that naive. At least you don’t think you are.

It feels rotten. You don’t like not telling your mom the truth. You tell her everything. She’s the one person who listened to you. Well, until Bucky. You can feel his gaze just thinking of it. How intent he is on every word, how he focuses on your lips as they outline every syllable.

You’re an adult. It’s not a lie. It’s a secret. And you don’t have a lot of options. It’s about time you help out and Burger King isn’t calling you back to scrape grills.

No matter how many times you justify it, it still feels wrong. Even if the way Bucky looks at you makes you all wiggly inside, it’s still lying. Even if you really need the money, it doesn’t change what you’re doing. And you are doing it. You have to.

You don’t want to see another red notice in the mailbox, you don’t want to hear your mom crying through the wall. You want to be able to give her a day off, more than that. She’s taken care of you for so long, this is just what you need to do to take care of her.

That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself.

You get up and go to the dresser and take the bag from behind it. You slide out a book and lay down with it. That’s how you cope. You read, you go to a world that doesn’t exist, just until you’re forced back to reality.

You shiver at what awaits you at the end of the first chapter. You know what Bucky expects and you know he won’t forget. The thought of the pajamas, the little top and the tiny shorts...

Don’t think of it. Open the book. Things will be normal for just a little longer.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #all in #mcu #casino au #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

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bibewilderedandbuck · 2 days

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Buck goes out to get food or restock after a particularly rigorous ""work out"" session and it just happens to be at the same time as some idiot decides to rob the place.

Buck is kneeling down because hes looking for Tommy's favorite gatorade flavor. They have all the popular flavors at eye level but if you're looking for dark red, you have to stoop down. Homophobic, and during pride month.

He hears the commotion and of course his hero complex kicks in. But he doesn't wanna spook the guy cause he knows how he looks. Massive and buff and a firefighter and everyone at this place knows him too, he lives right down the road (or maybe the drug store is one the first level of his apartment). He goes to send a quick text to Tommy, when the guy with the gun demands all their phones. Buck gets out "911" and turns on his location. He stays low to the floor but makes himself known. Gets the gun trained on himself instead of anyone else because that's just who buck is.

The robber is getting desperate and every time bucks phone pings he gets more and more jumpy.

“Whose needy ass boyfriend wont stop blowing up their phone?”

Buck raises a shaky hand. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can get it out-

The store clerk high-fives him and tells him he’s proud of him. “It was only a matter of time, man. He went through all the women of LA and he just moved on to the men.”

A chorus of “Oooh come on!” “That’s biphobic” “ew gross” “not cool” ring out among the other hostages. Buck’s cheeks are burning. The mix of positive and negative reinforcement creating chaos in his head.

“You really should consider letting us go.” He says to the man with the gun. Buck takes a risk and stands to his full height and the other man’s eyes widen. “My boyfriend is bigger than I am. He's waiting for me and we weren’t done.” He holds up a box of condoms and the gatorade and someone hoots behind him.

It’s then that the sirens start. Someone shouts instructions through a bullhorn. Buck isn't listening, he's determined to get everyone out before himself. He calmly explains that out there is one of the most fiercely protective police sergeants he's ever met.

"And her first priority is not going to be you." Buck motions his raised hand to the other people in the store and says, "let them go and I can help you."

The voice amplified by the horn sounds more desperate by the second and when did the fucking fire department get here?

The armed man send everyone out, except buck, who he now holds in front of him with the barrel of the gun tucked snugly against his spine. Buck can feel it shiver against his skin.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"I- I know," Buck says. The guy cowers behind him and he curses his height because if anyone was a fantastic human shield its Evan Buckley.

There's a new voice coming through the bullhorn now and Buck groans. Its Tommy and he's telling Buck the whole teams here and he's going to be alright. He sounds desperate and scared and Buck just wants to wrap his arms around the man and tell him its going to be OK.

"The boyfriend?" the guy asks and Buck almost laughs. He lets out a shaky breath.

"Yeah, needy right?"

"Listen man, I made a mistake. I'm in a lot of trouble but I never wanted anything like this." Buck nods. "My baby is sick and I'm broke. I just needed some cash and some formula."

Buck groans. He's too nice for his own good.

"There's an exit in the back."

"What?"

"In the back room I've seen them take in deliveries that way." He can hear the guy shuffle and then stop.

"Should I hit you?"

"What?" Buck peaks over his shoulder, the guy is half way to the door at the back of the store and still he's completely shielded by Buck's body. Seriously he should have been a bodyguard or something.

"I mean...it'll look like you just let me go?"

"This isn't a movie? I- I'm literally being held hostage, dude."

"Right." He turns away from Buck and then stops again. Buck is holding his breath. "Thanks man. I know this is fucked up and you didn't have to help me. You're a good guy."

Then he's gone.

Buck's not sure how to react. He did it, he saved everyone and himself and oddly the whole thing feels like a dream. Unreal. He walks slowly to the door of the shop and exits with his hands still in the air. Eddie is the first to hug him, barreling right into him and smacking his back into the glass of the window. He's checking over Buck for injuries and squinting inside the store and he seems confused.

"Where'd he go?"

Buck shrugs. "Went to the back and never came out."

Athena is next, she too gives him a once over, lets him know she can take his statement tomorrow and motions to the rest of the crew. They give him one resounding bone crushing group hug. Buck's warm and smiley but he still feels not here.

Finally, Tommy ambles out from behind the police car. He's thrown on a hoodie and sweats and he's vibrating on the balls of his feet. Buck see's the same expression on his face that must be reflected on Buck's. He reaches out to Tommy and Tommy clutches at him. The hug starts off timid until Buck hears a few pops in his back and Tommy is taking a deep breath in at his temple.

The world falls back into place like they've hit the bottom of a drop of an amusement park ride. His feet feel solidly on the ground and his stomach finally drops. His knees nearly buckle. At some point Buck had known he wasn't in danger, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like he was never going to talk to his family again, he would never see Hen or Eddie or Bobby...or Tommy. There is so much he wants to say but his breath is shaky and his hands won't release Tommy's shoulders.

"Do you want to be alone?" Tommy asks. Because of course he asks. No Buck has never wanted to be alone less. He feels like if he lets go of the man in his arms he's going to float into the atmosphere and dissipate. Like he's only tethered here by Tommy's hands.

"No," Buck says. He takes a grounding breath in, his chest bumping Tommy's. "I- I want to go home."

#bucktommy #tevan #911 abc #evan buckley #buck #tommy kinard #fic ideas #is this whump?#its very light whump if it is #Please tell me what you think #i woke up with an URGE to write this and I have no idea where it came from

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milksnake-tea · 1 day

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❀ ˎˊ- prompt: you've never told sunday you loved him, but you never had to. ❀ ˎˊ- sunday x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 787 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: vague spoilers for 2.2, mild angst (sunday hates himself lmao) ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: i remembered some random hc that halovians are sensitive to emotions and i woke up in a cold sweat idk if its canon but i like it. anyways happy sunday guys <3 ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

Halovians are the prized jewels of the universe, beloved and admired by many for their elegance, beauty, and elusiveness. But as Sunday’s come to learn, being one of the revered beings isn’t what it’s made out to be.

His halo tingles, little buzzes of electricity shooting across the metal ring and flowing directly into his brain. Sunday flinches at the feeling, although it's hardly noticeable - just a little jump of the shoulders, surprise flashing over his face for a millisecond.

Then comes heat - scorching, smoldering heat that floods over him, embracing and smothering him in its intensity. Instinctively his wings move to cool him down, but the heat is all in his head - physically, he’s fine. But it’s the implication, the knowledge of just what this feeling is that sets his face ablaze.

Ever since he was but a young child, he’d discovered quickly that he could sense the emotions of those around him as if they were his own. Humans were always wearing false faces, putting up a front, but he could always see beyond the mask.

But it was overwhelming - to put it mildly - to be under this constant onslaught of clashing emotions, so eventually, he learned to tune them out, to ignore the waves that his halo received.

And yet, despite all of those years spent learning to block out the emotions of others, here he is, fighting with all his strength to not melt down into a flustered puddle as he walks by your side.

There’s no one else in the Dewlight Pavilion’s garden, so he has no doubt about it - it’s you who’s sending these… feelings his way, and that realization does little to help with his predicament - he’d even say it makes it worse. But Sunday wouldn’t be where he is if he wasn’t able to keep a straight face despite it all.

But he does wonder, how are you doing it? See, Sunday has the excuse of being trained and raised for his role in politics. But you? How could you act so casual, so unbothered, and treat him like any other despite how strongly you… love him?

It breaks a part of his mind just to admit it, but he doesn’t know what else to call it. The warmth that emits from you is the same as that that radiates off of the newly wed couples that come to Penacony for their honeymoon, except you don’t know whether or not your love is reciprocated, nor have you ever considered to ask.

A part of him wishes that you would.

“Sunday?”

He blinks back to reality. You’re smiling up at him, and the pure adoration that exudes from you has his knees weak and his heart jumping. He feels like he’s choking, his breath is caught in his throat and there’s a heavy weight on his chest - but he only smiles reassuringly at you.

“Yes?” he asks softly, taking great care to keep his voice even.

“Are you alright? You seem a little…” You trail off, not sure how to word it. “…off.”

The corner of Sunday’s lip twitches. “Off is… certainly a way to say it.”

Your brows crease further in worry, and he can’t help but laugh good-naturedly.

“Please, don’t worry yourself.” He waves his hand dismissively. “I am fine, but I’m grateful for your concern.”

“Are you sure?” you insist. Sunday smiles warmly.

He feels how much you care for him, how much you wish for him to be happy, to have the most wonderful things. But he can't help but wonder - why? Why him? The parts of you that you devote to him, someone such as himself does not deserve. Not when in his ideal dream, he is destined for a life alone in the sky.

You deserve to love someone else, someone who can properly appreciate what you give him.

Absent-mindedly, his gloved hand comes to brush a knuckle against your cheek. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest as he feels your skin warm and your heart skip a beat.

"Of course," he murmurs. "In fact, I'd say I've never been better."

“If you say so.” You don’t look convinced, but you don’t argue, instead opting to subtly lean into his hand.

Sunday’s eyes soften. Guilt gnaws at him for his indulgence. He should stop, pull away. Leading you on like this wasn’t right. He needed to wake up, and stop playing pretend. The Charmony Festival was almost here - he couldn’t afford to give himself false hope.

And yet, he lingers there, bathing in your affection for a little longer.

If this is his sweet dream, he doesn’t want to wake up just yet.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

tags: @sh0jun, @themoderatelyawesomeninja, @xphantasmagoriax, @rainswept, @lucensei,

@akutasoda, @naraven, @scribs-dibs, @apathicace

#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #hsr sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday #honkai star rail sunday #sunday honkai star rail #reader insert #x reader #y/n #archives 🏵️

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 days

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Imagine…Meeting Dean In Prison

Pairing: Prisoner!Dean x guard!reader

______

“Hi,” said prisoner 83907. You paid him no attention, the man with the cocky smiling offering a wink in your direction. You knew his type. A bastard behind his smirk. “Hello guard…52119608. That’s too long. How about sweetheart instead?”

“How about silence is golden, prisoner. The warden will be here soon.”

“I didn’t know they had women guards in a mens prison.”

“I work in the offices hence why I’m watching you. If you’d prefer one of the men to come in, be my guest. They might kick your ass after I’m finished but let’s go get one of you-“

“No. No, I’ll be on my best behavior.” He sat back in the chair, holding his cuffed hands in his lap. “You think the warden’s gonna throw me in solitary?”

“Depends on what you did. Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

“Yeah but I might not have the chance to talk to anyone for awhile so I might as well while I can.” You sighed, the man shrugging. “I decked a guard.”

“Yeah, you’re getting solitary.”

“I had a good reason.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“He was feeling up some chick. Red head.” You instantly thought of Kelly in HR. She’d gone home sick all of a sudden, pretty shaken up. You looked at the door and figured you had some time alone still.

“Tell me everything that happened. Now.”

Two Days Later

“Mr. Winchester,” you said. He lifted his head up from where he sat in the interview room. “Or do you prefer Dean?”

“Dean is good. What’s going on, sweetheart? I went from solitary to being told I’m out on early parole this afternoon.”

“We were able to verify the story you relayed to me. The parole board was already reviewing your case and your selflessness in protecting one of our staff swayed them into releasing you early.”

“Someone must have been in my corner. Not often a prisoner’s word is listened to,” he said. You leaned against the door frame, Dean’s smile soft now. “I wonder who vouched for me.”

“Kelly’s my friend. And that particular guard is an ass. So thank you.”

“You looked up my wrap sheet, didn’t you.”

“You stole a car to get your injured little brother to a hospital. You’re not exactly evil incarnate, Dean.”

“Yeah but I’m known to steal a heart or two. Might have to lock me up for that,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he offered you a coy smirk. “What do I owe you?”

“Stay out of trouble for me Dean.”

“Only the bad kind,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

Six Months Later

“Get off! Jerk!” you shouted, turning and punching the man trying to steal your purse from behind you. You kneed him in the groin and he dropped, giving you enough time to get behind him and pin his wrists together. He reared his head and threw you off but a quick punch from someone else put him back on the ground.

“You okay?” said a familiar voice. Your head snapped up, the man shaking out his wrist, staring blankly. “My prison guardian angel?”

“Name’s Y/N,” you said, righting yourself, the man groaning on the ground. “Move and I’ll shoot you.”

Dean flagged down a cop car that drove past, the man quickly gone and leaving the two of you on the sidewalk.

“Isn’t getting drunk a violation of your parole?” you asked. He smirked and held up his chin.

“I was pardoned two months ago by the state. Funny considering I never submitted an application.”

“You must be lucky,” you said with a nod. “You look good. Got a job?”

“Bar tend under the table right over there. Going to school right now. I probably shouldn’t have told you about the under the table thing.”

“Eh. I like you Winchester. You’re good,” you teased. He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What?”

“You’re not a prison guard anymore are you.”

“What gave it away?”

“You have flour in your hair.” You threw your head back and groaned. “You work in one of the restaurants around here?”

“Maybe,” you said, taking a step past him. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“Told you I’m good at stealing hearts sweetheart.” He grinned and you walked past him, heading for the bar.

“It’s one drink. It’s a ‘you owe me’ drink in fact. No stolen hearts here,” you said. He caught up with you at the door and leaned in close, nearly brushing his lips over yours.

“No stolen heart. Yet.”

__________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #dean x #spn fanfic #dean supernatural #spn fanfiction

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suashii · 3 days

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— 𝒷𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 ౨ৎ

kuroo tetsuro x reader. 0.6k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!kuroo ﾉ repost!

a/n: with father's day approaching, i'll be reposting some short dad-related hq drabbles — kuroo's up first! :3

one of the defining characteristics of a good weekend, at least to kuroo, is sleeping in. it isn’t often he gets to do it, having to rise with the sun to go into the office during the week. so he cherishes the two days he can squeeze in an extra hour of slumber. but a peculiar weight on his chest is making it a little difficult this morning.

with a sneaking suspicion as to what is obstructing his breathing, kuroo peaks open one eye to see if his assumption is correct. he’s met with the sight of his daughter sitting on his chest, hands tangled in his hair.

she’s been getting up earlier than usual lately. you and kuroo hardly ever have to rouse the little girl out of her sleep anymore. instead of seeing a snoozing toddler when you or kuroo open the door to her bedroom, your daughter is more likely to be found stacking blocks into a tower or playing with her dolls. so it isn't entirely a surprise to see that she’s out of her bed.

“well, good morning, princess,” kuroo says, loud enough for the girl to hear but quiet enough to keep from stirring your still body.

“g’morning, daddy,” she greets him, not turning away from her task. her tongue is stuck out in concentration as she rolls a section of his dark, messy hair between her tiny hands. carefully pulling away, she smiles as the piece of hair stands up and away from the rest. kuroo should have known showing her the little trick once for giggles would come back to bite him. it looks like he’ll be putting a little more effort into combing out the tangles today if that’s what she has been up to since she snuck into the bed.

“silly hair!” the girl exclaims, clapping her hands.

“will mom ever get to try this style?” kuroo asks, glancing over to your peacefully sleeping figure. lucky, he thinks to himself. though, he’s glad that your daughter’s excitement isn’t too much of a disturbance to you. after all, there’s no reason for both of you to be so early on the weekend.

“uh-uh,” she shakes her head, reaching for more of the raven strands.

“wait, wait.” kuroo gently lowers her hands in an attempt to keep the girl from turning his head into a bird’s nest—if she hasn’t already. “i think there’s something a little more fun that we can do.”

she stares at him with wide eyes full of curiosity and maybe a little doubt. what could be more fun than playing cosmetologist?

“how about you,” he boops the tip of her nose with his index finger, “help me make breakfast for mom?”

“hmm,” she considers with a thoughtful hum. it seems like kuroo’s suggestion of becoming a chef for the morning isn’t much of a rival to her current imaginary profession. by the looks of it, he has to sweeten the offer. fortunately, he has the perfect bargaining chip.

“we can make chocolate chip pancakes.” he tickles her belly with a smile.

her eyes light up in delight at the proposal of cooking her favorite meal. “okay!” she nods her head enthusiastically.

“alright,” he picks the girl up, seating her on the foot of the bed. he takes a deep breath before tossing the comforter to the side and making his way out of bed. kneeling down in front of the little one, he taps his shoulders. “hop on.”

she climbs on his back with no hesitation. “chocolate chip pancakes!” she whisper-shouts, wrapping her arms around kuroo’s neck.

kuroo laughs, setting off to the kitchen. “coming right up, princess.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo drabble #haikyuu drabbles

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tigertales9 · 2 days

Text

Anticipation III

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This is the third fic in the Anticipation mini-series (it started off as a oneshot, and here we are 😋)

Anticipation / Anticipation II

Time/Place: June 1, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: In this fic, Joe & Reader are engaged & living together in a LTR.

Inspo pic: (screenshot from WLWT5 News)

ETA: check out this post by @alertbooty to see the gray shorts in motion 🤤

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

Saturday, June 1, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio

You come awake slowly, stretching your arms overhead while yawning, the smell of coffee in the air alerting you to the fact that Joe's parents are already up downstairs. They spent the night since y'all got home late last night from the charity golf event.

You check the clock on the bedside table -- 8:09 am -- before turning your head to look at Joe. He's sleeping peacefully, stretched out face down with the covers kicked off. You lean up on one forearm and look down at him in the diffuse morning light filtering in through the window blinds. His bangs are covering the half of his face that isn't buried in his pillow, and his lips -- plump, pink and slightly parted -- are the only facial features you can make out.

As you admire him, he gives a tiny snore and stirs in his sleep, pulling one long leg up in a way that draws your attention to his ass. He's dressed only in a pair of black boxer briefs, and you take your time letting your gaze run over the delicious dips and swells of his mostly-naked, muscular body, from his broad shoulders all the way down to his bare feet. Damn, you think to yourself, your eyes eventually settling on his bubble butt as you lick your lips and consider your options:

Option 1 - wake him up with a good morning kiss planted directly on one perfect butt cheek (which will def lead to other things)

Option 2 - let him sleep since he's clearly exhausted (y'all didn't get to bed until after midnight last night)

~ The Joe Burrow Foundation 2nd annual golf outing was held yesterday. You stayed behind the scenes to allow him and his parents time to shine without having to read a bunch of comments about you under the pics posted on the Foundation's social media pages; half the comments would say he can do better than you, and quite a few of the other comments would grossly objectify you, as usual. It was your idea to stay in the background, and Joe eventually agreed even though the reason for it aggravated him.

He was nearly asleep on his feet when y'all finally got home last night. A week of practice followed by an event where he had to give a speech and socialize with folks totally zapped his energy. He barely got his teeth brushed before stripping down to his undies and collapsing into bed. Luckily he had a shower between his round of golf and the after party. ~

I should let him sleep, you think with regret, your body already perking up at the thought of a naughty morning romp. You gently ease out of bed, giving one last look at his perfect ass before heaving a sigh and walking into the bathroom to start your morning routine.

~ ~ ~

Just over an hour later, you wave to his parents as they pull their car out of the driveway and head down the street, a knowing smile gracing your lips when you walk back in the house to the sound of Joe clomping down the stairs just as you shut and lock the front door.

"Perfect timing," you tease as he rounds the corner and walks toward you, his messy bedhead making you giggle as he shuffles up to you and leans down to wrap you in a tight hug.

"Thanks for handling them," he mutters, his hot breath tickling your neck as he plants a kiss in that sensitive spot just behind your ear.

You sigh as you lean into his warm embrace. "You're welcome," you murmur, relishing the feel of his big body enveloping you for several heartbeats before stepping back and looking up into his face. "I knew you needed extra sleep this morning since you had a hard week."

"You always know just what I need," he grins, yawning and stretching as you grab one of his hands and lead him into the kitchen.

"Speaking of that … have a seat," you state, pointing at a barstool at the kitchen island as you quickly pull items out of the fridge to make his breakfast.

~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later, he's mopping up the last bite of his turkey bacon frittata with a slice of multi-grain toast as you finish your second cup of coffee.

"What do you have going on today?" you ask.

"Gonna rest for a couple hours then get a work-out in here at home. What about you?" he asks, glugging down his remaining juice before handing you the empty glass.

You grab the glass and reach for his empty plate, giving both a quick rinse before loading them into the dishwasher. "I'm going to Jade's birthday lunch."

He makes a stank face before speaking. "You just spent last Saturday and half of Sunday with the girls."

"Am I not allowed out of the house two week-ends in a row?" you tease.

"I mean … yeah. I was just hoping to take a nap with you after my work-out."

You grin as he shifts gears from stank face to pouty face; he knows you can't resist his pout. "We can still do that," you soothe. "I'll be home around 2:30 or 3:00. That's a perfect time for a nap, don't you think?"

"I guess." He fidgets with his wristbands for a bit while heaving a sigh, eventually shooting you a loaded look from behind the fringe of his messy bangs. "Are there gonna be any male strippers at the birthday party?" he asks in a pitiful tone, poking his pouty bottom lip out even farther for maximum effect.

"No, you goober," you chuckle, walking around the island and stepping in between his spread thighs when he spins his barstool to face you. "Just like there weren't any male strippers at the bachelorette party last Saturday."

"Mmm-hmm," he grumps, trying and failing to look mad as you lean forward and press kisses all over his face.

"Don't 'mmm-hmm' me," you scold playfully. "You saw all the pics so you know the vibe was pretty tame."

"And yet you came home all horny."

You raise an eyebrow at him while shaking your head. "I came home horny because you kept telling me all the filthy things you were gonna do to me the second I walked in the door."

"And did I deliver?" he asks, his faux-mad expression quickly replaced by a cocky grin.

"You always deliver," you purr, pressing a kiss on his lips before heading for the stairs. "I gotta get going," you state, throwing him a smile over your shoulder before you jog up the stairs to get ready.

~ ~ ~

later that afternoon (2:40 pm)

You pull your car into the garage and quickly hop out and enter the house, dropping your bag on the entry table before walking into the kitchen. You set a bakery box filled with three red-velvet cupcakes on the kitchen island before continuing into the living room, making note of the empty sofa. "Maybe he's already napping," you mumble, a grin gracing your lips as you spin around and head for the stairs.

You hear the shower shut off just as you enter the master bedroom; you quickly slip your wedge heels off before walking to the partially-open bathroom door, peeking in just in time to see Joe step out of the shower and grab a towel. You watch him for a minute, your gaze following the path of the fluffy towel as he dries himself off, your pulse reacting to the sight of his tall, muscular body as you push the door open and walk in.

"Hey," he greets, giving you a smile before turning to face the mirror. "How was lunch?" he asks, leaning forward to study his reflection as he tries to finger comb his damp curls into submission.

"Good," you answer, your gaze zeroing in on his plump ass as he continues to fiddle with his hair. You reach for the hem of your sundress and pull it off over your head before quickly unhooking your bra, both items hitting the floor just as Joe meets your eyes in the mirror. "Looks like dessert is gonna be even better," you purr, closing the distance between you before pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

He makes a sound of approval as you slowly run the tip of your tongue down to the small of his back, lingering there for a bit before heading farther south. You drop to your knees as you grab two handfuls of bare butt, pressing kisses against his warm skin as you knead the perfect globes. "Your ass is a work of art," you breathe, leaning down to nip the fleshy overhang where his left cheek meets his upper thigh. "You drove me crazy yesterday in those gray shorts."

"You mentioned that a few times," he chuckles, spreading his stance as you continue to nip and suck his smooth skin, really getting into it as he wiggles his hips and presses back against your mouth. He usually only lets you do butt stuff in the shower, but you like the vibes he's giving off so you decide to chance it. You trail hot kisses over to his crack before leaning in and fluttering your tongue over his hole. "Oh my God!" he gasps, letting out a high-pitched giggle/squeal combo that has you smiling as you move your mouth back to his left cheek. "Relax," you soothe. "We'll do that later in the shower if you like."

"Sounds good," he murmurs, groaning low in his throat as you continue to suck love bites into his supple skin. You eventually reach a hand between his legs to massage his balls, rolling and gently tugging the sensitive flesh before reaching a bit higher to tease his erection, ghosting your fingertips over it for a minute before gripping it tighter; he bucks his hips into your touch several times before gently removing your hand and slowly turning to face you, hissing in a breath as you lean forward and lick the precum off of his tip.

"Are you wet for me?" he asks, his voice husky with arousal as you continue to tease him with your tongue.

"Soaking wet."

"Good," he states, reaching down to pick you up before striding into the bedroom; he sits you on the bed and slides your panties off before lying down beside you on his back, a cocky grin on his face as your gaze lands on his impressive erection. "Ride me," he orders, watching you closely as you straddle his hips. Chill bumps rise on your skin as you hover over him, his plump tip splitting you open just enough to make you whimper with anticipation.

"Hold on," he urges, wrapping his hands around your waist just before you sink down on him. You flutter your eyes closed, your pulse racing as your body prepares to be impaled on his thick cock. "Look at me," he commands," waiting until your eyes focus on his before speaking again. "Give me a taste," he purrs, licking his lips while flicking a glance down to your crotch, the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze again causing your core to contract.

You reach a hand down and slide two fingers through your slick folds a few times before bringing them up and rubbing your arousal over his lips; your eyes go wide when he grips your wrist and guides your fingers into his mouth, sucking them in as he maintains eye contact. The groan he lets out when he tastes you vibrates through your entire body as he uses his free hand to line his cock up with your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours as you slowly sink down on him.

He continues to suck your fingers as you take him deep, inch by inch, a shiver running through you at the feel of him stretching you open. Once he's fully seated, you lean down and reach forward, gripping the lowest slat on the headboard, the position pushing your breasts against his chest as you start to ride him. Your breath catches in your throat at the feel of his muscular chest brushing against your nipples as you move, the delicious sensation sending a sizzle of electricity straight to your clit and a rush of liquid heat into your core.

"I love how wet you get for me," he groans, wrapping his hands around your waist, his long fingers gripping you hard as he grinds you up and down on his erection, over and over, taking control of the pace as you hold on for the ride. Your sweaty palms slide against the headboard slat as you use it as leverage, your breath coming in quick little gulps and gasps as he pounds into you with a relentless rhythm.

'I need to slow down," he eventually grits out, slowing his thrusts until he finally stops while buried deep inside you. You take a minute to catch your breath before nuzzling your nose into his fragrant neck, pressing a kiss against the pulse throbbing there before kissing your way over to his mouth. He parts your lips with his tongue, groaning into your mouth when you open wide for him, his tongue stroking yours in a slow-burn kiss that makes your toes curl and your core contract.

He breaks the kiss and gives you a loaded look. "Did you just hit a Kegel on me?"

"No," you shake your head. "I mean … yeah … but not on purpose."

He raises an eyebrow at you, trying and failing to look stern as your core clamps down on him again. "I'm trying not to bust and you're hitting Kegels?"

"I can't help it," you whine, squirming against him as he tightens his grip on your waist to hold you still. "It's just my body reacting to how good you feel inside me."

"I know, baby, I'm just teasing," he admits, giving you a dirty grin as he runs his hands over you, rubbing your back, ass and thighs before sliding one hand between your bodies, his agile fingers teasing your clit as you start to move. "I can't stay still," you whimper, pulling most of the way off of him before slowly sliding back down, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting as you take him all the way to the base. "Just like that," he urges, "slow and deep."

You sit up a bit and press your palms flat against his chest as you continue to ride him, a delicious coil of tension building inside you as he adds a little more pressure to your clit while using his free hand to play with your nipples. You lose yourself to the feel of him inside you, to the feel of his talented hands teasing you, his husky voice urging you to ride him faster as you chase your pleasure. "Yeah, baby, just like that," he groans, pinching your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to set you off, immediately thrusting up inside you as your climax hits.

You throw your head back as the searing pleasure rips through you, a breathless cry escaping your lips as your core pulsates around him, rhythmically squeezing him as he continues to fuck you through the orgasm; the sounds he makes heighten your pleasure as he follows you over the edge, your body pulling every last drop of cum out of him before you collapse against him.

The next several minutes are filled with heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breath, giggling a bit when you finally roll off of him and collapse on the bed.

"That was intense," you pant.

"Beyond intense," he mutters, pressing a kiss on your shoulder before easing off the bed and walking into the bathroom; he returns a minute later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning you up before tossing the cloth back in the bathroom. He turns the ceiling fan on before crawling back into bed and pulling you close, your back to his chest.

"Nap time," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair and taking a deep breath as you relax in his embrace.

~ ~ ~

Sunday, June 2, 2024 (the next morning)

You come awake slowly, stretching and yawning before turning your head to look at Joe. The bed beside you is empty, and you wonder where your man is for a sec before easing out of bed and shuffling into the bathroom, a grin spreading over your face when you see a note lying next to your sink. You pick it up and read it out loud.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. I'm getting in a work-out at the facility. I'll be home early afternoon. Love you."

"Love you, too," you whisper, the grin never leaving your lips as you wash your face and head downstairs to make coffee.

~ ~ ~

Three hours later, you're adding a hefty pinch of red pepper flakes to a homemade bolognese sauce when your phone rings; you quickly wipe your hands off and check the display. "Hey babe," you greet.

"Hey," Joe answers. "Whatcha doing?"

"Making bolognese sauce for dinner tonight."

"Oh yum," he groans. "That's one of my absolute favs."

"I know," you giggle. "What's up? How was your work-out?"

"Good … except …"

"Except what?"

"Did you know you left a huge hickey on my left butt cheek?"

"Ummm, no?" you answer. "I mean, I guess I'm not surprised since I was all over it, but I didn't notice it last night, and you were gone this morning before I got up. Why do you ask?"

"It's just … a couple of the guys noticed it when I was changing in the locker room."

"Oh."

"I mean, it's no big deal. They just …"

"Just what?"

He sighs before answering. "They were teasing me a little bit. Like 'oh I didn't know y'all got down like that' kinda vibe."

"We're engaged to be married, babe," you giggle. "Pretty sure they know we have sex."

"True," he muses. "But one thing they said kinda stuck with me."

"What?"

"The main hickey is on my left butt cheek with a much smaller one on the right. So it's kind of out of balance."

"Well, we can't have that," you purr. "As soon as you get home, I'll even them out for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you murmur. "This bolognese needs to simmer for a while before it's done."

"Be home in ten minutes," he chirps.

"Don't speed," you giggle, ending the call before placing a lid on your simmering sauce pot, turning the heat to low before heading upstairs.

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

shoutout to @sofferaddict who gave me the booty hickey/locker room reveal inspo! 😘

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine

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