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#he gives his existence deep meaning and that meaning arrives to everyone else as a result

twstowo · 3 months

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They End Up In a Universe Where The Two Of You Hate Each Other [Twst]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: The two of you are happily dating and he couldn’t have asked for anything else, however, one day he finds himself in a strange place only to find that here the two of you are enemies.

♡︎Enemies to lovers????

♡︎Includes: Riddle and Leona

[AU Masterlist]

[Here] ☆[Azul and Jamil] ☆[Vil and Idia] ☆[Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Riddle

The fate of this Riddle had been written. He would ascend to the position of the King of the Queendom of Roses as his mother passed away, and he would transform into a worse tyrant than her. Eventually, everyone he thought he could trust would turn against him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Riddle was dumbfounded when he opened his eyes, only to find himself in front of thousands of people, a crown on top of his head, proclaiming him as the King of this strange land. The people in front of him bowed in fear of his rules, as he was nothing more than a tyrant in this unfamiliar place.

Days passed as he tried to comprehend how he ended up in such a peculiar setting – one where Night Raven College didn't exist, and his mother, once the queen, had just died, making him the King of the Queendom of Roses. Along the way, he encountered some of his friends such as Trey and Che’nya, but none of them seemed to enjoy his company, only interacting with him out of fear, just like anyone else. For Riddle, this didn’t make any sense. He knew that his past actions in his universe had been that of a tyrant, but he had changed with your help and that of his friends who were here by his side. Seeing himself in a similar situation again, he decided to alter the course of history that dictated he be betrayed by his own people.

“Stay still, or I will cut your throat.” Finally, you entered the picture. Riddle had questioned when you would show up since he arrived. At first, he thought that maybe you would be one of the party members seeking his hand in marriage, but he felt that wouldn’t entirely suit you. He knew that when you showed up, you would turn his world upside down because that was the impact you had in his universe. You stood in front of him, a knife dangerously close to his throat, ready to cut it if he made any stupid moves. If this had been someone else, he would have been ready to fight, ready to call the guards and collar you. However, deep down, even with a knife next to his neck, he knew that he could trust you.

You were an assassin, meant to kill the tyrant king, driven with only this purpose. It had been one of your group that had murdered the Queen, and now it only lasted for you to finish the job of ending the tyrant's bloodline. However, strangely after the king’s coronation, you started seeing a strange change in his actions. The once tyrant man who collared everyone in the city came back to uncollar them. He hosted tea parties for the people in the city and abolished some of the laws his mother had created. Did you really have to kill someone like that? Was he as bad as everyone made him seem? You decided to check for yourself, and with that, you found that Riddle was, in fact, someone with a gentle heart.

“I wish to undo what my mother started,” you heard his docile words, a questionable expression on your face. Did he really mean that? He could be trying to lower your guard to call the guards, but within his eyes, you saw no sign of lies. He meant what he had said, he truly wanted to better the Queendom. You decided to give him one chance, for if he failed, you would come back to take his life.

⋆⋅☆Leona

The fate of this Leona had been written. He would kill his brother out of jealousy for ascending to the throne, and over time, he would be overthrown by his own nephew, left to be alone and mocked.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

A story that Leona deemed fitting for him, as he once again witnessed his brother achieving what he had desired, becoming even here the shadow of his own brother. Most of his days were spent lazing around, knowing that no good would come from trying to follow the predetermined path laid out for him. Unless he did things differently.

The sweet taste of power was intoxicating, and he planned everything with immense detail, confident that everything would turn out perfectly. That was until he saw you. You, hailing from another land, sought to establish a peaceful connection between the realms. Upon seeing him, you strolled towards him with a fiery look, as if commanding him to behave. If it had been anyone else, he might have lost his composure, making sure you would regret ever looking at him disrespectfully. But he could never do that to you. He almost found the expression amusing, almost as if you had turned into his lucky angel, advising him to halt his plans before he could end up as fate had written for him here.

“Why are you always lazing around?” The sweet melody of your voice captured his attention, but there was nothing sweet about it. Your hands rested on your hips as you looked down at his figure. To anyone hearing you speak, it would seem as if you hated him, and to a point, you actually did. The fact that you saw so much potential in Leona, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was sleep, made you furious beyond belief. You had come from a family that demanded perfection, and perfection you had to become. Working day and night to fulfill their expectations, you aimed to continue their bloodline. Seeing someone like Leona, who appeared to have been born with everything you had to work so hard for, made you mad.

“Why not join me for once?” He asked, tapping the grass next to him, a mocking tone present in his voice as he checked if you could lower your guard to fulfill his wish. In truth, he just missed the moments back in his universe where he would lay his head on your lap as you talked about your day. Yet, the you from this universe wasn’t so thrilled with that idea, and he watched as you turned around with a roll of your eyes.

Your encounters were filled with glares, as you didn't seem to enjoy his company and spoke ill of him. However, somehow, even if mean, he found himself enjoying the time spent with you, albeit fleetingly. While he glanced at your departing figure, wishing to spend more time with you, he knew that, just like in his universe, you were meant to be by his side.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twst writing #twistedwonderland #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader

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justmystyles · 9 months

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I need some angst with happy ending please. Am a sucker for angst and jelly harry or yn

Veiled Insecurities

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: Harry has some insecurities about your relationship, but instead of talking to you about them, they end up coming out in the wrong way.

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask! i don't know where this idea came from, but it was a lot of fun to work through. including yelling at myself for an entire commute home trying to work out dialogue. my apologies to anyone that happened to be stuck in traffic next to me on the highway friday night. 😂

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The air in the car was thick with tension as you kept your eyes locked on the passing scenery, refusing to give Harry the satisfaction of glancing over at him. Neither of you had spoken a word, you were waiting for an apology. You had no idea what he could possibly be waiting for.

Harry pulled the car into the driveway, and you hopped out before he even had a chance to put it in park, slamming the door behind you.

“You didn’t let me get your door,” he commented as you made your way to the house.

You turned to him, rage burning in your eyes. “You haven’t been a gentleman all day. Why start now?”

He winces slightly at the heart wrenching combination of your words, and the disdain they were spoken with.

Today was the day of your company picnic, and Harry was actually going to be in town and was excited to go with you. He had heard so many stories about your job, and your coworkers, that he was looking forward to putting faces to all the names. One face in particular changed all of that.

The department you worked in was small, only about five or six coworkers and your boss. While you all worked closely together, your job was particularly intertwined with your coworker, Roger. You had told Harry about Roger before, his existence wasn’t a surprise to him. What was a surprise were his good looks, and how close the two of you were.

He had heard the term ‘work husband’ before, but he had never heard it more than he did at that picnic, and everyone that used it had been referring to you and Roger. He knew it was a platonic thing, that it didn’t mean anything, and he was glad that you had a support system at work. But that combined with the slight touches throughout the day had Harry seeing red.

You had noticed a shift in Harry shortly after Roger’s arrival, and it just kept getting worse, coming to a crescendo after you and Roger won the three legged race. You were so embarrassed by his behavior that you made some excuse about your limited time with Harry and left early. Much earlier than you had wanted.

Harry knew you well enough to know you were upset, so he didn’t say anything on the ride home. He knew you’d want to collect your thoughts before talking, he would let you start the conversation. And you decided to do so as soon as you were in the house.

“What the actual fuck, Harry?” You spat, finally meeting his gaze.

“Princ-”

“No,” you interrupted. “No pet names.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “Y/N, I think you’re overreacting.”

Your eyes went wide. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen you so rude before!”

“Only to him,” Harry mumbled. “I was fine with everyone else.”

“And there it is!” You throw your hands out in frustration. “Please tell me what is so wrong about my closest work friend.”

“Don’t you mean your work husband?” He snapped back.

“Oh my god, Harry. Seriously? You have like four work husbands!”

“Maybe,” he started. “But they aren’t all over me like he was with you!”

Your eyes went wide at his accusation. “No shit, because you’re all over them!” You run your hand down your face, trying to keep your composure. “Harry, you are the most physically affectionate person I have ever met, it’s one of the things I love about you. It also makes it incredibly hypocritical of you to have an issue with other people doing it on a significantly smaller scale.”

“But you’re my girlfriend, I didn’t like seeing another man’s hands on you.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “Who are you? This is not you. You’re not possessive like this.”

“I thought you liked when I was possessive of you?” He asked with an arched brow, trying to diffuse the situation.

“When we’re alone, and in the heat of the moment? Absolutely. But when you’re like that around other people, you come off as a toxic asshole.” A quick flicker of sadness flashed across your face. You hoped Harry didn’t notice. “Roger was excited to meet you, he’s heard so much about you.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Because I love you and I talk about you all the time.”

“Okay, well I just don’t think it’s very professional for him to be so flirty with you.” Harry shrugged.

You buried your face in your hands and took a deep breath. “You want to talk about professionalism? Part of your job is literally your sex appeal. You have women throwing themselves at you on a regular basis. You’re basically one step above stripper the way you dress and dance around on stage.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up your hand as you continued on. “Every fan hug that lingers a little longer than it should, every girl that calls you daddy, or tries to shoot their shot with you at a show, every bra thrown in your face; I take it all in stride and I don’t let it get to me. Do you want to know why? Because I love you, and I trust you completely. I know you would never do anything. It absolutely breaks my heart that you think so little of me and my commitment to you that you don’t extend me the same courtesy.” Before he could fully process your words, you turned your back to him and stormed away, slamming the door to your bedroom shut.

The tears had barely begun to fall before Harry was knocking on the door. “Y/N?”

“Go away, Harry.” You couldn’t help the waiver in your voice.

You prayed that Harry didn’t hear it, but he did. And it felt as though his heart had shattered, he had made you cry. He had made you cry, and you were trying to hide it from him. He knew that you would often mask your pain as anger, not wanting to give people the satisfaction of seeing your tears. Because of his actions, you had put up a wall with him. You didn’t want to be vulnerable, and it was his own fault. He couldn’t blame you, this whole thing had blown so far out of proportion and he needed to make it right.

He opened the bedroom door and entered slowly. You were sitting on the side of the bed, elbows on knees, you looked over to Harry, and his breath hitched. Your cheeks were already tearstained, your eyes red-rimmed.

“Y/N,” he said softly, taking a seat beside you and raising his arms. Before he could get them around you, you slid out of his reach. He looked up at you with pain in his eyes.

“No,” you said sternly. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to comfort me right now. You’re the reason this happened, you don’t get to ride in here on your white horse and hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay.”

He nodded silently and looked down at the floor. “I do trust you,” Harry finally broke the awkward silence. “This was never about me not trusting you. I know that you love me, and I trust you implicitly.” He turned his head to look at you. “It’s not even about not trusting Roger. I just…” He let out a deep breath. “I saw how close the two of you are, and it reminded me that you have this whole life that I’m just on the outside of because I’m always away.”

He turned, sitting with his legs crossed on the bed so that he could face you. “I wasn’t jealous because I thought he was going to try something, I was jealous because he gets to see you everyday, because you two have a closeness that I’m afraid you and I can’t have.”

You finally look up at Harry, the frustration in his eyes now replaced with concern. “Harry,” you turned, mirroring the way he was sitting. “I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been with anyone.”

“I know, I believe that. And it means the world to me.” He reached out tentatively to take your hand. Letting out a relieved breath when you didn’t pull away. “You’ve been so incredible, you’ve completely thrown yourself into my world. My family loves you, you’re practically a member of the tour staff. I want to be that for you, but I’m never able to be here long enough.”

“Why haven’t you ever told me this before?” You squeezed his hand gently.

He lifted your joined hands to his lips. “I guess I never really realized how much it bothered me until today.”

“Well first of all,” you started. “The tour isn’t going to last forever. It’s going to end, and then you’ll have some time off. I would like to think that you’ll come and spend some of that time with me.”

“Definitely,” he agreed. “As much as I can.”

“So that’s when you’ll be able to mix in with my life more.” You explained. “We just have to take turns being in each other’s lives. Right now, you’re all over the world, so I have to make a little more of an effort to meet you halfway. When you’re on break, it will be your turn. By the time you go back on the road, or whatever you do next, it will be more of an even playing field. It just seems imbalanced now because we haven’t had time to even it out.”

“I’m so sorry, angel.” He apologized. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay,” you nodded. “But next time, if you’re feeling insecure, just pull me aside and talk to me.” You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too,” he replied, burying his face in your neck. “Princess?” You hummed in reply as you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Do you really think I’m one step above stripper?”

You chuckled, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Maybe two.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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barbatoss-teabag-leaves · 2 years

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Obey Me elder brothers as romantic tropes

Obey me x gn!reader NOT PROOFREAD

Total words combined: 1878

I kind of went all out on Levi’s but I’m extremely excited to share this piece.

Lucifer [521] -enemies to lovers

You have been getting on Lucifer's nerves since the day you arrived at the Devildom. At first the idea of a human living in his space got on his nerves, but as be grew to know you his stubborn mind did everything to persuade himself to always despise you. You were on the list of things that he saw as the bane of his existence. He would try to avoid you, when he interacted with you he treated you like shit. Eventually you had evidently had enough when you started guarding your heart around him much harder than around anyone else and giving much shorter, vague answers to any of his questions over time. If he asked “where are you going?” you would say, “out.” You too did limit your interactions between the two of you by only talking to him when needed and clenching your teeth to keep you from screaming whenever he discarded your presence. To you he was a rude old man with his panties in a twist. You feared him at first which was only natural, slowly that fear morphed into irritation. Still, you were kind. You were always kind. Whenever you noticed him being more exhausted than usual you would do small gestures without letting him know it’s from you. He put it together after the first few times and suddenly you were on his mind more than he’d ever want to admit. You noticed that his eyes looked so desperate for sleep and the build up of sorrow from the centuries hidden beneath his mask. The most recent time you did something for him was when you looked at him and his deep red eyes were begging for help. You placed a cup of tea on his office desk on the way to your awaiting bed while he was in the common room to discuss a matter regarding a planner dinner for the nobles of RAD with Asmo. He had conflicting emotions to see the cup but he knew you did it. He always knew it was you. His first reaction would always be to question if you had an ulterior motive but you did it wordlessly, never acknowledging the gestures. Once he was finished with his work for the night he sighed and went to your room to ask you the meaning of the tea as he’s been wondering for months. You were soundly asleep as it was somewhere around 01:30 am. He peaked his head into your room to discover that you’ve fallen asleep with your head on top of your potions handbook. He doesn’t know why he did it almost naturally but he carefully lifted you from your chair and gently laid you down on your bed. You’ve stirred him in a new way. His feelings of annoyance slowly developing into a foreign emotion he was scared to discover. You weren’t fond of him and he knew that. So why? Why were you so kind a o him? He didn’t deserve it from you and he knew that. He had to make things right with you. Lucifer set the goal for himself to slowly morph your feelings of annoyance into something much sweeter, too.

Mammon [501]

-soulmates.

You and Mammon have been attached at the hip since shortly after you arrived at the Devildom. Wherever you were he would be found and vice versa. Sure, he feigned annoyance to hide his feelings but you knew. He knew. Everyone knew. The two of you are made for each other- two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into one another. Everything was always so easy with him, it was easy to fall in love with Mammon. Your late night conversations were easy. Confiding in each other was easy. Making the most out of horrendous situations was easy. Heck, even getting in trouble together was easy. The two of you had flaws- as everyone does. Some may say loving someone is being able to look past the flaws, but what made the two of you so strong is that you acknowledged the other’s flaws and loved each other unconditionally. You chose to love his flaws and he chose to love yours. The choice happened subconsciously, it was as easy and as natural as breathing. He would defend you and protect you till he had no breath left in his lungs and you would protect his heart even if yours was ripped out in the process. The protectiveness you had over him had been proven when he needed you most. As a few witches were berating him and trying to catch up to him- wanting to take him away in order to cover his debt. You spoke without even thinking as though it was your heart speaking and your mouth only being an instrument. “You have no right to take him. He belongs to me and I belong to him. He’s my first demon, my first love and my boyfriend and I will not allow you to any harm to him. Do I make myself clear? You better run along before I get Lord Diavolo involved.” The witches scattered leaving you with a speechless Mammon. As was sat on the ground, you crouched down holding his face in his hand. “Are you alright Mams?” His expression was difficult to read, but his eyes told the truth. He loved you more than he ever thought was possible for a demon to. His hands were shaky as they reached to wrap around your waist, “I really thought I did it this time.” You pressed your forehead to his, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I’ll always do everything in my power to protect you.” “I’m the one who’s supposed to be protecting ya.” He moved to hide his face in the crook of your neck and you carded your fingers through his hair. “We’ll protect each other, how about that?” He exhales a breathy chuckle against your shoulder, “What did I ever do to deserve you?” “Let’s go home, Mammon.” “I am home. Home is wherever ya are.” You are the cure Mammon’s been waiting for over the centuries, the salve on his wounded heart. He dare say, his saving grace deep he found deep inside hell.

Leviathan [856]

-Fake relationship/friends to lovers

Levi is your best friend. You can rely on him for anything and everything, he would get you the moon if you asked him to. That’s why you immediately turned to him for help. There’s a demon in one of your classes who has been bothering for quite some time now and he won’t listen to you when you say that you just aren’t interested. That’s why when you were walking with Levi you opened up to him and ask for an idea on how to get him to leave you alone. Levi felt anger built towards the asshole who was making you feel uncomfortable and blurted out, “Well if I was your boyfriend he would leave you alone! I would make damn sure of it.” You gasped before he could save himself, “Levi that’s brilliant! You can pretend to be my boyfriend to scare him off.” Red overtook his face, neck and ears while he processed what you just said his brain highlighted the words ‘you’ and ‘my boyfriend’ and he only responded after a minute. “Of course that’s what I meant!” As the weeks went by Levi stayed by your side everywhere you went. Even behind the walls of the HOL Levi would accompany you, he would lean against the door frame with his hands in his pockets while you were making tea in the kitchen, he would go do his homework in your room instead of yours. “Well we have to be convincing, which means we’ve got to do c-couply things. We’ve got to practice otherwise we’ll look like normies.” Was always his excuse, with a red face and shaky hands he would reach out to hold onto yours. Levi was falling even harder for you, the dream he’s created of being with you was just being fuelled even if it wasn’t officially real. When the demon who has been bothering you walked past you Levi’s protectiveness kicked in and he almost naturally pulled you into him and gave you a passionate kiss. The demon eventually got the message as you melted into Levi, your arms wrapping around his neck, deepening the kiss. Nothing about that kiss felt pretend, it felt real, the warmth of his cracked lips, the graze of his nose against yours, the smoothness of his fingers grasping your cheek. The explosion of adoration that bloomed in your stomach that led you to smile felt especially real. You pulled away to breathe and he hid his face inside the crook of your neck, “that normie won’t mess with you anymore.” You worried. Levi worried. You both worried. What would be the point of acting as a couple if the original reason was no more? You walked home in a tension filled silence that day. Little did you know that his heart longed to protect yours, his soul longed to become one with yours. He longed to be yours. The two of you both retreated to your own separate rooms with few words that night. You laid restlessly in your bed, continuously tossing and turning. Levi played with half attention into the wee hours of the night. You just could not take it anymore, you had to talk to him. You sat up in your bed with your legs thrown over the side, your head in your hands as you slipped your slippers on your feet. How you were going to address is you weren’t sure, but knowing your best friend you were certain you were going to have to be the one to speak up. You trudged down the hall and knocked on his door when you saw the colours of his computer shine through beneath the door, with a small voice you spoke up “Levi? It’s MC, I know you’re awake so please open the door.” You heard some shuffling and soon saw a wide eyed Levi. He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in with a closed lip smile, hes still still your best friend. He sat cross legged on the block next to his bathtub bed and he pulled his gaming chair closer to be able to face you. “So about that kiss-” he whined and ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m so sorry MC, that was too intense for a fake relationship- you probably regret choosing a yucky otaku like me to be your fake boyfriend.” You wore a soft expression “Maybe I do regret it.” “I knew it.” He said while looking down,

“I regret only having you as a fake boyfriend when I should have asked you to be my real boyfriend from the start. The titles may have been fake, but everything you made me feel was real. It still is real. Please look at me and tell me you feel the same because I know you do. Nothing about that kiss was pretend and we both know it.” To say he was shocked would be an understatement. “MC does that mean you’re asking me to b-be your real boyfriend?” You nodded and he looked at you as though you created the universe. Your best friend is now your lover, too.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me swd #obey me!#obey me brothers #obey me x reader #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me leviathan #obeyme mammon #obey me mammon x reader

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tinyinvadr · 6 months

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So the tadc brain rot is so strong right now, and naturally, I had to bring g/t into it! Not sure how many parts there will be to this, but yeah!

Hide & Shrink

Chapter 1

I couldn’t sleep the first night. It wasn’t like I needed to. All that was once essential for living is now pointless. Trying to retain any sense of normalcy is a waste of time that could be spent trying to find a way out.

The exit door turned out to be a bust, but surely there’s another way to leave. I just have to keep trying, even if it drives me insane, even if I end up in the void again. There’s no way I can stay in a place like this.

But… if I keep this up, and I DO end up driving myself insane, I’ll just end up like Kaufmo and however many others before him who’ve been “abstracted”. Yeah, that’s what they called it. I’m not exactly sure what it means or if there’s a way to undo it, but since Caine has a whole cellar full of abstracted people, I can only assume that it’s irreversible. That, or this is all just a part of his games.

The others seem to trust him to some extent, but I can’t bring myself to. He has to be the one who’s keeping us trapped here, right? He’s insistent that there’s no way out because he doesn’t want us to leave, so that must mean an exit DOES exist, right?

The worst part is that no one else seems as eager to leave as I am. Clearly no one wants to be here, but they still managed to adapt to this world. They accept it, they play along with whatever Caine has to throw at them. It’s… normal to them.

No, I can’t reach that point. None of this is real, and I refuse to let myself believe that it is. I had a life before this. A real life that was taken from me. A face, an identity, a name. I can’t remember the details, but it’s enough to know that I don’t belong in this twisted program and I have to get back to the real world.

The entire night, my mind was racing in this vicious cycle. Do I keep trying? Do I give up? Do I have to just accept this as my new life from here on out?

I was finally snapped out of my spiraling when I heard a knock on the door the next morning.

“Hey, uh, Pomni? You okay in there? I just wanted to check in, make sure you’re still… here.”

Just hearing Ragatha’s voice hit me with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why was she still bothering to help me? I abandoned her twice when she was hurt, how could she forgive me so easily?

I opened the door for her, and she just stood there, nervously scratching the back of her head. I guess it wasn’t entirely water under the bridge, but she still made the effort to reach out to me.

“Um… Hi, Ragatha. Thanks for checking in on me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m glad you’re okay. Yesterday was… a lot to deal with all at once for a new person. But I promise, it’s usually not like that here.”

We just stood in awkward silence for a minute. There were so many things I wanted to ask her, but I was worried I would make things worse. I didn’t want her getting hurt again.

“Anyway, the rest of us are having breakfast, so feel free to join us if you want. Don’t feel pressured if you don’t want to, just thought I’d offer, since it can be nice to spend time with other people.”

In all honesty, I really wasn’t up for it, but I knew I couldn’t lie in bed stuck in my own thoughts forever. Maybe leaving my room would help me focus. Or it would make things worse, subjecting myself to all of the chaos of the Digital Circus again.

No, I had to. Attempting to do something was better than not doing anything.

“Yeah… I think I will.”

I followed Ragatha down the long hallway, filled with unease as I remembered our encounter with Kaufmo only a day prior. It was terrifying to think that the huge, glitching monster that attacked us was a person deep down. I didn’t know him, but the others did. I couldn’t imagine how it must have felt for them to lose him in such a horrible way.

And any one of us could be next.

We arrived at the main area of the circus tent where everyone was already seated at the table, feasting on digital, artificial pancakes.

Jax was the first to notice us.

“Oh hey, Pomni. You’re not dead.”

Ragatha sighed as we made our way over to the table, sitting at the two empty seats.

It seemed like everyone had a preferred seat at the table, so I ended up sitting between Gangle and Jax again. This was all part of their routine that they’ve been keeping up for god knows how long.

“Good morning, Pomni! I hope you’re feeling better today.”

I was caught off guard by Gangle’s smiling mask and cheery attitude. She was crying the entire first day.

“I don’t know… but you seem to be in a better mood.”

She chuckled, touching her mask with her ribbon hands. “That’s ‘cause my comedy mask regenerated. It resets every morning.”

I was about to ask her how often her mask breaks, but my question was answered when Bubble suddenly popped up behind Kinger, startling him to the point where he fell back onto Gangle, pushing her over and knocking her mask off.

“Aw… it broke again.” She said with a sniffle as she collected the remains of her mask.

On the other side of me, Jax smirked, crossing his arms behind his head. “Never gets old.”

Man, what a jerk.

Breakfast carried on pretty much the same as dinner the previous night. I was trying not to let my thoughts wander to darker places and focus on trying to connect with the others. It was difficult, though, since everyone already knew each other pretty well and adjusted to the insanity of this world in their own ways, so I was just kind of there. But I knew I needed them. As long as we were all on the same page, maybe I could stop myself from going insane.

Of course, it wasn’t long before HE showed up.

Just as we were finishing breakfast, Caine appeared beside Bubble.

“Rise and shine, my wonderful performers! A new day of exciting adventure awaits!”

Everyone got up and followed Caine to the stage area. I reluctantly joined them, unsure of what would happen if I didn’t.

“The star of today’s adventure will be selected with…”

Suddenly, a huge carnival wheel fell from the ceiling and crashed on the floor next to him.

“The Wheel of Whimsy!”

Each section of the wheel had a picture of one of our faces on it. Mine was already added to it, even though I only just got there.

Zooble rolled their eyes at the sight of the wheel.

“It better not land on me again.”

Caine gave the wheel a strong spin, and I watched in nervous anticipation as it slowed down. I had no idea what kind of adventure he had planned, but I knew for sure that I definitely didn’t want to “star” in it, whatever that meant.

I let out a sigh of relief as it seemed like the wheel would stop just before it landed on me. But, with the last bit of force, the pin crossed over onto my section.

“Well, would you look at that! Our star today is our newest member, Pomni!”

Jax casually strolled up beside Caine, that smug grin never leaving his face.

“Still picking on the newbie, huh Caine? I like it.”

Caine chuckled in response.

“Now, now, you know I don’t pick favorites! The Wheel of Whimsy is completely random, and all of you have an equal chance of being selected! That being said, considering yesterdays events and the fact that Pomni is still fairly new here, I’m going to give her a say in today’s adventure! So, what’ll it be, Pomni?”

I looked around at the others, each with differing expressions. Ragatha looked optimistic, Gangle worried, Zooble annoyed, Jax amused, and Kinger… Kinger. Whatever I decided to do probably wouldn’t please everyone, but I had to accept that and just go with whatever I felt was the best option.

“I dunno, maybe… hide and seek?”

Caine froze in place for a few seconds, as if he was buffering, and then sprang back to life.

“Excellent choice!”

With a snap of his fingers, I was teleported to somewhere I didn’t recognize. I was floating in place in a void of some sort, but not the same void I got stuck in the day before. It was pitch black, and almost felt suffocating. It felt like the space itself was small, but I couldn’t move far enough in any direction to prove it.

Then, even stranger, I could hear Caine’s voice, though it sounded like it was coming from underneath me somehow.

“Alright, everyone! Today’s adventure is… Find Pomni! Your new friend is hidden somewhere in this Amazing Digital Circus, and you’ll have to work together to find her! But it won’t be easy! Make sure you check everywhere, she might be someplace you wouldn’t expect! Now, get to it, superstars!”

After he finished speaking, I was hit with a sudden sensation that felt like I was moving really fast, even though I wasn’t going anywhere. The kind of feeling I got when Caine was giving me a tour. But that didn’t make sense, there was no sign of him anywhere.

“Uh… Caine? What’s going on? Where am I?”

I didn’t get a response. Instead, I felt something grab me and drag me down. The endless darkness was replaced with the bright and cheery colors of the circus all at once, but my eyes immediately went straight to Caine, who was now massive and holding me in his hand.

“Would you look at that! I pulled Pomni out of my hat!”

My first instinct was to panic. Squirming, kicking, screaming, it was all useless, but I was desperate.

There was a combination of confusion and concern in Caine’s eyes as I struggled in his grasp. How did he not expect me to hate this?

“Whoa there, no need to panic! It’s just me, your old pal Caine!”

“I’ve known you for less than 24 hours.”

“Haha, right! But there’s nothing to be afraid of, Pomni. This is all just part of the adventure! You see, the others have played hide and seek before numerous times, and they know all the typical hiding places, so I thought it would make things more challenging if you were smaller and harder to find!”

I kept helplessly struggling, but he made no moves to release me. He just kept watching.

“C-Can you put me down now?”

It finally hit him that I didn’t like being held, and he complied, setting me down on the floor with a pat on the head.

“There ya go! Now, I’ll leave you to go find a place to hide! Good luck!”

He disappeared before I could say anything else, and I was once again alone in this nightmarish circus. Only this time, it was much, much worse.

I could feel my heart racing as I looked at my surroundings. The circus was already huge to begin with, but everything at this perspective looked 10x more threatening. Part of me wanted to be found as soon as possible so I could return to my normal size, but I also didn’t want to think about encountering the others like this.

All I could do was hide.

#giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #g/t writing #tadc g/t

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katyspersonal · 9 months

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Headcanons on.... being justified? sorta

I threw a couple of headcanons in a salad so I could rate the Soulsborne men that messed with the things not meant for humans and got ridiculously big body count, from most justified to least

#5 Laurence - He genuinely cared for betterment of humankind, even if that meant great sacrifices and risks, although he took things to such a far point that these actions on themselves destroyed his humanity and defeated the purpose. He is a tragic villain! Good intentions road to hell all that.

(I will note though, I feel like BB was a bit TOO subtle on how things sucked so Laurence would have the need to change them - there are multiple evidences that are yet so scattered that on superficial level it can look as though everything was awesome and perfect and Laurence simply ruined everything! I really don't see it, especially considering how many things could've been wrong in Victorian era... Eileen, for one, arrives from plague-ridden place if her mask is of any indication.)

#4 Aldrich - He lives in the world that is rotting and doomed no matter what you do, he saw the only thing that offered at least some hope for escape and better era and seized it, no matter what it took. He is like.. in a position where moral principles are losing their effect, so everything goes. Similar insight to Rykard's, actually. (I can honestly give him a pass on enjoying his methods a bit too much like sadistic shit that he is, because how you he is feeling besides the point in this context)

#3 Micolash - His world likewise got fucked but what Micolash did was not simply going 'fuck this shit I'm out' and giving up on human values, but also provoking the process that accelerates the humanity's ruin and it can not even escape beasthood WHILE his ritual is ongoing, all so he (and anyone who """understands""") could evolve past human mind. Micolash has more choice and more hope than DS cast, he decided human values (and lives) were not really worth it!

#2 Allant - Not only he gave up on humanity and this world in his despair, but also ensured that everyone else feels this way too deep down and no one's lives matter, so he had to "open their eyes" lol. He is just willing to destroy everything through the same logic in which I used to agree with Frenzied Flame ending - that existence is fundamentally broken, as a concept.. And like, if other people still want to exist regardless of suffering, decay and existential loneliness? Well they're just "dumb" or something.... Very selfish stuff.

#1 Shabriri - The fucker thought the world had it too good and just could not live in peace knowing there was all-destroying power sealed, he saw "No tresspassing" sign and was not able to stop, so now even without Lord of Frenzy, the world still got inflicted with irreversible sickness that someone could get just by fucking being too sad or something. Basically I think he did not face crushing depression and dread that simply 'resonated' with the power of universal despair, but just, like they say, "did a little trolling". Partially I think that because of how his yearning for chaos sounds like manic wish to just see everything burn and not like despair. Partially because I feel like at least one time everything could be ruined by simple curiosity and not sympathetic motivation? But yes, Shabriri is THE worst.

_________________

Also there are complications of 'they unleashed it' vs 'the force beyond humanity called them and of course a human would not be able to resist' with some, which I tend to just write off with the "the call means nothing without the receiver" (so, even if you like saw a dream or found frenzied fingerprints, you could still just say no... so yeah, I did not use this factor in rating)

#bloodborne #dark souls 3 #elden ring #demon souls #soulsborne #woe! fromsoft superwholock be upon ye!#soulsborne headcanons #i don't know how to tag this anymore because it crosses many things #but yes not me analysing terrible men as usual #laurence imo is the most sympathetic of this... type of a souls guy #what do we name it even?

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faussila · 1 year

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Don't You Want Me, Baby?

PART SIX

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Somewhere in the middle of high school chaos, you have managed to lead a peaceful existence. When a new boy arrives in Hawkins, life in general and the relationship between you and your best friend, Eddie, are thrown off balance. The stranger is obnoxious, and aggressive, and demands all the attention. Your attempts to ignore him soon prove to be unsuccessful.

Warnings: 16+, mild bullying, mentions of alcohol, smoking and drugs…

A/N: New cover image yay!

Later that night, you and Eddie are lying on his bed side by side with your heads on the opposite sides, in utter quiet, with your muscles tingling and your thoughts faded. These are the moments when all the noise of the world can escape you. All that can be heard is the hum of the small light bulb doing its best to illuminate the room, a dog raising its voice somewhere in the caravan park, and your uneven breathing patterns.

Your voice is delayed as you say, "This is fun." Beside you, Eddie begins to giggle slowly. You straighten up, leaning on your elbow, you look at him with a faux serious look. When he looks at you, he begins to laugh harder. Your eyes try to focus on his features. "Are you ridiculing my preferred form of entertainment?"

"Just a little bit," he can exclaim between his laughter, "Only because you’re a little ridiculous." He nudges you against your shoulder, causing you to fall back onto the mattress.

You scowl as you try to look convincingly sad. You know Eddie knows you're faking this, but you like how he always responds to this as convincingly alarmed and endearing. It's only possible on nights like this: late and hazy, allowing for a more unfiltered version. It's an excuse to get closer for once, an excuse not to be witty for once but instead to show some simple gentleness. If only for a few seconds, until the little performance is over again. Of course, you become more teasing in nature when you've smoked, but all it does is expose a layer that otherwise remains under the surface, tucked away obediently, to avoid taking risks above all else.

He rises up from his reclining position and climbs closer to you until his face is hanging just about above yours. “I’m sorry.” His hair floats a few millimeters from your skin. You blow lightly against it, avoiding his gaze because you plan on playing on his heartstrings just a little longer, which would be no longer possible from the moment you’d look into his deep, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry,” His voice is low, yet whiny. He wiggles his hair in your face. You can’t help but scrunch your nose. Still, you try to stay unimpressed. “You know, I was just mocking you.” He tries to get your eyes to meet, but you move your gaze playfully away. “Just for fun,” He grabs your chin and gently turns your face toward him. “You know?”

You look up at him with doe eyes. Still unwilling to talk, but already weaker. Eddie lets go of your chin. He knows that look you are giving him. It’s a trick. He’s seen you pull it with other guys at parties. You do it when you’re drunk, or high, when you are bored and possibly turned on. However, being aware of this trick doesn’t mean that it doesn’t work. It always has its desired effect.

"Don’t tell this to everyone," He leans even closer to you as if he's about to reveal a secret, as if there are others in the room who are not allowed to hear it, "but I think this is fun too.”

You fail to suppress a smile. You are defeated. Eddie jeers at his victory. "You're lame!” you say, and you push him off you so you can sit up straight across the headboard of the bed, causing him to fall back onto the mattress and start laughing harder. In this way, you throw in the towel and cut through the tension. This is how it goes every time, going back to how it always has been, and as you always assume it should stay. It’s silly really. Both of you, equally deceiving yourself and the other as you act afraid to cross a line that you so often approach. At times like these, you become so close that your vision of each other becomes blurred.

There’s another moment of silence when Eddie recovers from laughing. You clear your throat, “I really need some sleep.” You yawn. You get ready to get up, pretending you plan to go home, but Eddie pulls you back down by your arm. You sit back down and turn to look at him. He pouts, “You can sleep over.” His voice is sleepy. “Don’t want to be alone.” He tugs on your arm. Unsurprisingly, the evening ends in a sleepover. It always does. It is an intrinsic part of the playbook. You who never ask, but he who loosely suggests.

“Only if I get some pajamas.” You joke although you really want one.

Tired but happy, Eddie jumps up from bed to fetch you something to sleep in. He goes searching through his closet and throws you a worn-out Black Sabbath t-shirt.

“There you go,”

Then he proceeds to find one for himself.

“Thanks.” You say.

You turn towards the wall to change and manage to take off your top layer of clothes. Hastily pulling the oversized band tee over your head. Eddie’s scent wraps itself around you: cheap laundry detergent with a hint of woody tobacco perfume he always lends from his uncle. It’s slightly too mature on him, but that’s exactly why it works.

You turn around to see Eddie changing his shirt. It feels wrong to look, yet you always do. He’s never caught you. Probably.

You climb into his bed. He follows along. Your limbs weigh heavily and seem to be absorbed into the mattress. Your ears buzz while your eyes struggle to stay open.

“(Y/N?)”

“Yeah?”

“Billy’s interested in you.” Eddie remarks in a serious tone.

You scoff and turn to look at his face. Your face probably just got a bit redder.

“Eddie…”

He’s staring at the ceiling until he turns his head towards you.

“I’m serious,” He adds.

“What makes you think that?” You question, “His asshole behavior?”

Still no smile from Eddie.

“That’s the only behavior he knows, (y/n)! Believe me! He’s a slick-looking dude who never had to act nice to get a woman’s attention. Hell, all the girls are swarming over him like he’s some lost, pink lollipop lying in the desert.”

The latter causes you to let out another laugh.

“That doesn’t make sense,”

“You get the point,” He just got a bit tenser, and turns his gaze back to the ceiling. You do the same.

“Well, they can have him.”

Eddie’s eyes shoot back to you.

“I really hope you mean that.”

Your eyes shoot back at him.

“Why’s that?”

He stays silent for a moment, but you can hear his brain rattling.

“I don’t know… I just don’t want you to get hurt, I guess”

...

A/N: How will this sleepover end? What will the next day be like? Send in some suggestions :-)

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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secretsolarsystem · 2 years

Note

Prompt: “you’re so bad at this. It’s cute.” (Literally all I can think about for this is anakin trying to flirt on an undercover mission lmao.)

okay you’re SO RIGHT about this being Anakin flirting undercover. boy cannot flirt to save his life but he’s all the more cute for it <3

this is written in the same ‘verse as the lil ex-Jedi!Obi-Wan/padawan!Anakin fic I wrote!! this takes place a few years after that…idk how many lol, but Anakin is still in the Jedi Order here :)

ex-Jedi!Obi-Wan, padawan!Anakin, bad flirting at some random twi’lek guy I didn’t even give a name, Obi-Wan saving the day YET AGAIN, 2.1k <3

—

Taking a deep breath, Anakin reminded himself why he was here. The target, a twi’lek, was suspected of working with a local bounty hunter, the twi’lek seducing their targets to get information to ensure an easy catch for the hunter. The Jedi were of course not a fan of any guns for hire, but this one was getting too confident and going bigger and bigger with their targets. Soon, the Jedi worried, prominent figures would fall victim.

So that was the main reason this mission existed at all. But Anakin needed to remind himself why he was here, or else he’d bail.

He was here because the Council suspected that the best way to catch a bounty hunter that was trying to show off was to bait him with his very own Jedi. So they put out a bounty on Anakin, hoping to get first to the twi’lek and then to the hunter.

Anakin specifically was here because, well – everyone else was busy.

That, and when the Council tried to encourage him, telling him he just needed to flirt enough to get the twi’lek to leave the bar with him so the knights waiting outside could follow them to wherever the man ran his part of the operation, Mace Windu, Anakin’s own master, snorted. He snorted.

Because yeah, Anakin couldn’t flirt for shit. But for Master Windu to snort and say, “Force help us all – I mean, did you see him with the senator from Naboo?” was enough for Anakin to narrow his eyes right at his master as he accepted the mission.

Now he was wishing he’d just taken the joke as a warning and declined. Because, truly, Anakin couldn’t flirt for shit. Not like a normal person would, anyway. Words weren’t always Anakin’s strong suit, but when he truly meant and felt what he said, Anakin could be quite articulate and even persuasive.

Did he want to fuck this conman? No, not at all. But did he want to see him brought to justice? Yeah, obviously.

And did he want to make his master take his snort back? That more than anything made him take one more deep breath and make his way towards the bar itself.

Fortunately, utilizing the fact that he was a Jedi allowed Anakin to wear his typical Jedi attire, affording him some comfort in this very uncomfortable situation. Holding the familiar ends of his sleeves between his palms and his fingers, Anakin approached the empty seat at the bar next to where the twi’lek sat, and asked, “Is this seat taken?”

Except- Maybe he just didn’t hear him? Because the twi’lek didn’t answer. Anakin coughed. “Oh, um- Excuse me?” The man whipped his head around quickly, making Anakin snap to attention. But with the man’s attention on him, sneering as he was, Anakin asked again, “Is this, uh, seat taken?”

The man gave him a once over, his yellow eyes starting at Anakin boots and trailing up, widening in what must be intrigue as he took in his lightsaber and then his padawan haircut. “Only by you,” the man purred, lips quirking into an easy smile as he watched Anakin take a seat.

Giving the twi’lek a smile – he’d meant for it to be suave, but he knew it probably looked like he was going to vomit – Anakin waved down the bartender, waiting anxiously for them to arrive. “Another drink for him, please. And I’ll take one of what he’s having too. Please. Thank you.”

As the bartender nodded and got to work making their drinks, the twi’lek dropped his elbow onto the countertop of the bar and dropped his hand into his hand, leaning closer towards Anakin. Anakin’s eyes watched as he threw an orange lek over his shoulder and let his fingers caress it all the way down until his hand dropped to his thigh. “You sure you’re old enough to drink, little Jedi?” he asked, making Anakin’s eyes snap back to his.

“Yes,” Anakin responded, not at all pouting. He was exactly the legal drinking age, thank you very much.

“Aw, no need to get all pouty,” the man tsked, sitting back up once their drinks arrived. He pushed one of them, a small glass of some amber colored liquid, towards Anakin and held up his own glass. “To being old enough,” he toasted, throwing Anakin a wink.

Blushing, Anakin gave another nervous smile and tapped their glasses together. The twi’lek took a long sip of his drink, watching over the rim as Anakin sipped his own. The second it hit his tongue, though, Anakin spit it back into the glass, cringing as he stuck out his tongue.

“Kriff, what is that? That’s terrible! Uck, I feel it sitting in my stomach!” he groused, placing a hand on the spot where he could feel the alcohol burning despite not even swallowing his entire sip. The bartender graciously dropped of a glass of water for him, and he gulped it down without hesitation. When he set the glass back down, he saw the man looking at him with an unimpressed look, his own glass now empty.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Anakin said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I guess it’s a, uh, an acquired taste.”

Lips quirking up again, the twi’lek dismissed him with a wave before leaning on the bar again. “It’s alright, little Jedi. It was cute.”

Anakin went red in the face again and squirmed, and thankfully, based on the persistence of his leer, the man seemed to see it as shyness rather than the discomfort Anakin really felt. He didn’t want to be called cute, especially not by this man.

But he was supposed to at least pretend to want that, so Anakin made to mimic the man, resting his own elbow on the bar top and dropping his head into his hand.

Except, when he did that, he must have put his elbow where one of the glasses left behind some condensation, or maybe the bar top was just slippery in that one exact spot – because when he leaned on it, his elbow slipped right off, making him fall forward and smack his forehead directly on the counter.

“Oh!” the twi’lek laughed, watching with delight as Anakin righted himself and rubbed his aching forehead, face burning up with embarrassment. He had to fight a scowl at being laughed at, and tried to offer, at best, a grimace instead.

“Sorry,” he muttered, though why he felt the need to apologize for accidentally getting hurt, he didn’t know.

“Adorable,” the twi’lek cooed, reaching out to hold and thumb at Anakin’s braid. It made his whole body freeze, having a stranger touch his braid so casually, so confidently without even asking. “So, little Jedi, what brings you down here from your beautiful Temple?”

Passing off the urge to shake himself out of his skin as a shrug, Anakin answered, “Thirsty, I guess.”

“Hmm,” the twi’lek hummed, smirking as he looked at the glass full of Anakin’s unfinished drink. Then, looking back, he said, “Perhaps I could make you something better, something you’d like more. How does that sound?”

It sounded horrible, it sounded terrible, it sounded like the last thing Anakin wanted. But, more importantly, it sounded exactly like his mission objective. “Uh, yea-”

Before he could seal his fate, the bartender placed a tall, skinny glass full of some purple liquid before him. Anakin and the twi’lek blinked at it, then at each other, then at the bartender, who tilted their head to the other end of the bar as explanation.

Turning away from the twi’lek to look over his shoulder, Anakin immediately relaxed, even as he fought a sigh and smile of relief.

Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was here to save him, as always.

Upon catching Anakin’s gaze, Obi-Wan’s lips stretched into an easy smile, and he stood from his barstool and came over to the two of them. Anakin heard the twi’lek grumble something, but he didn’t care. Obi-Wan was here.

“Hello,” Obi-Wan greeted, looking first at the twi’lek and then to Anakin. “I couldn’t help but notice your…dislike of Corellian whiskey.” Anakin blushed, though this time it was not from discomfort. No, it was from knowing Obi-Wan had been looking at him, and from Obi-Wan looking at him now. “So I thought you might like to try Phattro. Perhaps you will like it better.”

Nodding, Anakin made to grab the drink, but a hand suddenly on his wrist stopped him, shocking him out of Obi-Wan’s hypnotic gaze. Both of them turned to look at the twi’lek, his yellow eyes narrowed into slits as he snarled at Obi-Wan.

“We were just leaving, actually,” the man growled, grip on Anakin’s wrist and braid tight.

Obi-Wan hummed behind Anakin, and Anakin felt the man’s fingers brush on his neck before he also took his braid in hand, gripping it above the twi’lek’s hand, closer to Anakin’s head. It made Anakin gasp, having Obi-Wan’s hand on him. One of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s hands on him was enough to let him forget the two the twi’lek had on him.

“I think you are the only one leaving, friend,” Obi-Wan spoke, voice heavy with suggestion. Anakin watched as the twi’lek’s eyes grew wide and unseeing, and he watched as he repeated “I am the only one leaving,” and then watched as he let go of Anakin, stood, and left.

Blinking as he processed what happened, Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan with a scowl. “You just lost me my target!” he whined, scowling further when Obi-Wan simply smiled.

“Oh hush, young one,” Obi-Wan chided, tugging on his braid before letting it go and taking a seat next to him. “There are knights waiting outside to apprehend him. Worry not and enjoy your drink. I truly do think you’ll enjoy it.”

Pouting, Anakin did as he was told. He might as well, seeing as he still felt gross from interacting with the twi’lek and now felt like he’d failed his mission. He took the first sip and immediately felt better – not just because he was getting alcohol in his system, but because Obi-Wan was right: it was delicious. It was fruity and sour and didn’t even taste like alcohol.

He would blame his blush on the booze, and not the satisfaction at Obi-Wan knowing him so well.

“Good?” Obi-Wan asked, voice and smile incredibly please.

“Very,” Anakin admitted, taking another long sip. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, young one.” Obi-Wan said like it was his favorite thing in the world to say. Maybe it was. He took care of Anakin so much, he had to enjoy it at least a little. “You’ve earned it, after pushing through all of your terrible flirting.”

Turning to Obi-Wan with frown, Anakin gasped. “Terrible? It was working! He was about to take me home!”

“Yes, darling,” Obi-Wan agreed, “but only because he is trying to cash in on the bounty they’ve placed on you.” This last part was said with a sense of…agitation? Anger? Whatever it was, Obi-Wan clearly wasn’t happy about the bounty, if the way his eyes briefly flashed gold was anything to go by. “You are so good at many, many things,” Obi-Wan went on, “but you’re so bad at this. It’s cute, though. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Anakin felt at least four emotions at once. First of all, ‘darling.’ Obi-Wan’s little pet names killed him, how casually and affectionally he used them. Then, him saying Anakin was good. It wasn’t the same as when Master Windu said it; when Obi-Wan said it, heat he tried to ignore pooled in Anakin’s belly. And then saying he’s bad! Anakin tried his best! But then Obi-Wan had said he was cute, and that made heat fill his belly and rush to his cheeks even more than before.

Anakin supposed he could see what Obi-Wan was saying, though. Apparently everyone knew that Anakin couldn’t flirt, so what else could he do but snort and take another drink? “You’re telling me that slamming my head onto the counter wouldn’t do it for you?” he joked, throwing Obi-Wan a smile.

Obi-Wan returned it easily. “Oh it would, dear one, but only because I already like you so much.”

Heat rushed all throughout Anakin tenfold at that, and he faced forward as he downed the rest of his drink, heating up under Obi-Wan’s amused gaze. Anakin hadn’t been worried at all about the bounty hunter successfully killing him tonight. Now, though, he was worried Obi-Wan Kenobi was going to make him blush to death.

When Obi-Wan ordered him another drink, Anakin accepted it happily.

from this prompt list

prompted fic collection on ao3

#i just think they're really cute in this dynamic <33 #me: oh bad flirting! I'm bad at flirting!! hell yeah #also me: oh god how to make bad flirting cute and interesting and funny #also me: obi-wan will find anything anakin does cute and interesting and funny. hell yeah!!!#obikin #ask #prompt #my writing

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hazelcephalopod · 10 months

Text

The Bear and Disbelief in the Self

So, I finished season 2 of The Bear and I loved it. Fantastic, messy, fucked up people trying so hard and failing a lot.

The show I think has been pretty clear about it’s premise, which again I argue is: fucked up people trying. The characters all arrive here from some sort of trauma. For most of The Bear’s staff it is at minimum a loss, their friend and boss committed suicide after struggling a lot with various issues -which he tried to shove down and not deal with. In Richie’s case he’s also dealing with a massive inferiority complex and something else we will get too. Sydney is trying to recover from her failure with her own restaurants and we’ll get to something else. Carmy is dealing with the aforementioned suicide, but in his case this was also his brother who he had a complicated relationship with, his mother and family life just being a really big mess, and the abuse from his former boss. All three are dealing with deep seated disbelief in themselves, they they are not capable or receiving or creating nice things.

We see Richie grappling with this all season explicitly, he feels like he will be left behind. And he doesn’t believe he can keep up. He lacks confidence, and only gains it when removed from his life and put in a place we’re he can see a path to success and is told he has to have respect. Respect for his work, respect for others, and most importantly respect for himself. I think that is finally got through to him and allowed him to begin turning over new leaf; which he had to choose to accept. Sydney, also lacks confidence in herself, at least deep down. Tbf, she’s young, she has a lot of ambition and puts a lot on herself to succeed. She’s learning to lean on others and work with them and hopefully we see more of that explored in a future season. She’s beginning to make those choices that will allow her to succeed.

Carmy however is deep into all of those issues. He desperately wants to succeed, and specifically he wants to succeed in the way he’s been led to believe he’s supposed to. Make the restaurant work, be the best at it, be with the right girl. Be who everyone expects him to be, but -imo- he’s not sure that’s actually what he wants. He just doesn’t know how to let himself have that though; deep down he doesn’t believe he even deserves happiness or love. He wants to be in control, but he’s so out of control that he can not have that control he so desires. Which I’d argue he desires because he's looking for something. He won’t let himself have happiness or love because that might mean giving up control, relying on someone else. And that’s hard for him. Because so many people he trusted, and loved, have failed him. He’s so used to the pain he doesn’t know how to exist without it. He hasn’t yet made the choice, and until he does he can’t succeed. He can’t find what he’s looking for.

#The bear #long post #There’s the fun readings for all shows including this one #But then it’s also important to read the text #This is a dramatic comedy #And the traumas of these characters have been very clear from the beginning imo #They don’t make the best choices because they don’t have the tools to do so #Or are just beginning to develop them #Like Sydney and Carmy. I ship it. But they need to figure out themselves first.

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generous1ty · 2 years

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guys

i have no idea what i’m doing, i’m just doing it. i think that’s really all that matters; that i’m doing something. so. so i’ll just do it. it will happen. it is happening. this is it guys.

oh my god i’m physically failing

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff... eventually

warnings: gn rdr, Diluc was drinking (Diluc is drunk), we’re addressing his trauma here and we are comforting him >:’(, Diluc has a breakdown while drunk; we are just conveniently there, Diluc has a flashback (not graphic (i think)) about holding Crepus as he died, no established romantic relationship, no established relationship at all actually he had no idea we existed until now, we’ve also worked at the winery for 3 yrs and Diluc does not remember hiring us because he didn’t. Elzer did. Diluc is a heavy drinker and his alcohol tolerance is absolutely mad, he’s so unkempt and not okay, he really needs a hug, we give him a hug, though he falls asleep right after but it still counts.

word count: 1.69k

Diluc never liked drinking- ironic as it may be for the owner of a tavern and a wine business; the alcohol slipping down his throat, or the burn it would leave behind, the terrible taste and texture that would stay on your tongue, the actions he committed when he was intoxicated.

and despite all that, tonight, he sat in a chair in his winery, behind his desk, sipping a cup of strong wine while half-dazed in his seat.

he really needed a drink; something to keep his mind off of the thoughts that would keep him awake during the night- when he was alone in the house that was cold and empty.

every time the alcohol would meet with his lips, he would cringe at the taste. there was no doubt he disliked drinking, but he swallowed it down anyway. his mind was hazy, fuzzing up like the fields of dandelions he’d see while out travelling. this was good; this was better. better than whatever else would swallow his mind late in the night.

but his mellow drinking party, with only him in attendance, had been abruptly interrupted when he heard the jangling of keys outside, and the door to the winery clicking as it unlocked.

you didn’t mean to interrupt his jovial drunken stature, but you had unfortunately left a book of yours at the winery you worked at when you had gotten distracted by actually doing your job (which was overlooking and organizing papers with Elzer).

and it had been, oh-so-conveniently, right next to the owner of said winery, disheveled, messy, and elegantly (not really) surprised at your entrance and quick arrival.

the first thing you noticed was that his hair-- usually tied in a neat, low tail --was unkept and loose. it framed his face well, if not for its knotted curls. Master Diluc was also seen in casual clothing, which was a rare sight in itself- the only thing you saw him in was his usual attire: the vest, ornament, and his signature black coat that looked way too hot to be in considering Mondstadt’s weather during the summer.

you thought he slept in such clothes, though it was a relief he didn’t.

the last thing that your eyes landed on was the half empty cup of Fire Water-- something you were very fond of seeing, considering the fact you handled its shipping and stock. everyone knew how the Master of the estate disliked wine, despite manufacturing it-- and the wine industry --so well, so the fact that he was holding a cup and a large bottle of it, well... it could be a bad sign, or maybe the man just wanted a taste.

“shit...”

the sudden curse had you startled- out of the 3 years you’ve worked for Diluc, not once have you heard him even utter a vulgar word, let alone speak so distastefully.

“i... i’m sorry, did i-- did i interrupt something?”

it was a stupid question to ask, considering the fact that he was avoiding to look at you- trying to rid himself of your presence at all, if he could. he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do; something that wasn’t expected of him.

but he supposed that tonight all that shouldn’t really matter.

he took in a deep breath, exhaling as his body relaxed into his seat. you were probably the only person in Teyvat that could see Diluc so relaxed while so unrefined.

“no, i’m just... drinking.” his remark made him chuckle, a bitterness to it, “would you care to join me?”

of all the things that could happen in Teyvat, you definitely did not expect the owner of Angel’s Share; inherent of Dawn Winery; Ragnvindr’s greatest achievement -- to ever invite you to a drink. he may be your employer, but he was hell of a rare sight to see.

even so, you gave a polite smile- all the while confused -and accepted. after all, rejecting an offer to drink from someone superior was rude, and you definitely didn’t want to be pissing off your boss-- especially not when he was drunk.

“is there a reason for this... special occasion?” despite your hesitance to drink with him, you brought up a chair and he another wine glass, pouring the strong wine into it and giving it to you to drink.

he gave a long sigh, sitting back and relaxing into the chair again. he set his cup on to the desk and paused.

how should he respond, he wondered.

“...if i said there was?”

“well, i’d be happy to listen.”

Diluc’s eyes rested upon your figure; dark and unrecognizable because of the night, lights turned off to keep the atmosphere. there was nothing to illuminate the surrounding area, and yet, in a moment, the candle that sit on the desk, held by a candleholder, had been lit.

you were surprised, even jumping back a bit from the sudden light. you thought that the dark was what he preferred; something to shield him from the shame that might have crept in him since he was found doing something so obscene. you’d have to tell Elzer to grab another shipment of Fire Water tomorrow, since Master Diluc had already drank three.

“sorry, i-”

“i’d like to see the face of the person i’m confiding into, if you don’t mind.”

his words, despite the slight slur, were polite. it was hard to say no when he was asking so nicely- words spreading like honey into your mind. it was thick and sweet; hard to get rid of, but nice to have. his words were like vines, yet you welcomed them to encase you.

“i don’t mind,” you smiled, probably a reaction from how... sweet the Master of the winery was being, “i was just a bit surprised.”

“...thank you.”

despite the fact you were so open to listen to his drunken ramblings, he wasn’t exactly sure where to start. his night terrors? his insomnia? the fact that no matter where he goes, this crippling guilt travels with him and eats away at his mind..?

on second thought, maybe this was a bad idea. why would he ramble to a complete stranger? someone who he barely knew- someone who barely knew him. was it the alcohol? the fact he was making such bad decisions- the fact that he invited you here and told you there was a reason for him drinking alone, in the winery, in the dark, with three bottles of the strongest wine he had stocked, finished.

how did he even get here.

“i’m sorry, my- i’m-- well-”

Diluc shut his mouth quickly.

and you forced back a laugh and a smile. to hear Diluc stutter- well, it was quite... cute.

“take your time,” you took a deep breath, half for him, half for you, “we’ve got all night, no need to rush.”

a wave of security suddenly washed over him. he wasn’t sure if it was the reassurance, or the words you used, or your tone-- but he suddenly felt like crying. something he hadn’t done in a long, long while.

tears pricked at his eyes, and he let them overflow on to his cheeks.

“it was my fault,” his hands trembled in his lap, recalling the way the warmth in his arms turned cold while he was holding him, “if i had done better-- if i were just a little more stronger- if i had just--”

he choked on his words, crumbling down onto the desk as his sobs overtook his throat.

you were-- stunned. what were you supposed to do- how were you supposed to do it- what did he want you to do? you told him you’d listen, but you thought you’d be listening to the fact that he was struggling to make something new for his menu or that he was upset his shipments kept getting destroyed by hilichurls or even that he was furious Elzer took hold of management in the winery when that was his job-- all ramblings of, what you expected to be, the richest man in Mondstadt. you didn’t expect him to break down crying in front of you, sobbing about who knows what while drunk out of his mind.

so you stood up and walked over and helped him straighten his back while he cried. his arms were limp, and much lighter than they looked, as you held them to help him sit in his chair properly-- but instead, he opted to lay on your stomach as you stood next to him, his red hair resting on your clothes, his eyes still pouring out tears, his breath still erratic, him still sobbing and hiccupping.

you weren’t sure to put your hands. you weren’t sure what to do. what do you do when your boss is drunk and crying on top of you-- how were you supposed to know?

“Master Diluc,” you said his name for the first time this night, raising his face to look at you so you could wipe his tears, “make sure to take deep breaths- to breathe.”

his face was red- much more flushed than you thought when you sat across from him. red littered his cheeks to his forehead, then his ears down to his neck; his eyes were almost as red as his face, if not the same color. tears stuck to his long, red, lashes... it was shocking how such a vibrant color could be natural.

his breaths came out long and shaky, and as he tried to regulate his breathing, your hand wrapped itself along his head, gently playing with his bright red locks of hair as he slowly calmed down.

you weren’t sure what in the world you were doing, you just prayed to god that you were doing it right .

you continued to gently massage his head with the pads of your fingers, combing out the knots that held his scruffy hair into a birds nest with your fingers. by the time you had his hair completely combed out, you could hear Diluc softly breathing on your abdomen.

he had fallen asleep.

what in god’s name were you supposed to do now.

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thessalian · 8 months

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Thess vs Resentment

Okay, my incredulity about unironically playing Rick Astley aside: today. Was. HELL.

I woke up already feeling the hurt - the bone-and-muscle deep ache that speaks of a really, really bad day. I knew it was coming. Of course I fucking did. I've been overdoing it for weeks. It was always going to catch up. I just hoped it'd remain at a lower level for just a couple of more days.

But nope. Nope, today was the first day of what promises to be quite some while of excruciating pain. Yaaaaaaaaay.

But still, work needs doing. Thankfully, I did not get a panicked phone call begging me to come into the office. I did wake up earlier than I wanted to because of a text message, but it turns out that was the announcement that my new digibox arrives tomorrow (BT is apparently sending out a new digibox for its TV customers and I have zero idea why because mine works just fine, and this means I'm going to have to enter my bloody Netflix password into the thing again the next time I want to watch something and I haaaaaaaate having to use the fucking remote to enter a password). So at least I didn't have to commute.

That was basically the only good thing about today.

Someone else was typing a bit, today. I don't know who was typing a bit, but someone was. I know because the queue kept shrinking by ten or so reports every so often. The problem was that, once again, the ones that disappeared were those under a minute in length and dictated by someone with a fully comprehensible accent and no tendency to shift around the place or generally fuck up. No, I got all those. The fucking placentas (two of which the person dictating them started two days ago and finished early this afternoon, which dumped them right into the top of the typing queue because it goes by date created, not date completed). The prostate biopsies that are always six blocks or more, always with someone who refuses to state that there are fragments in with the cores until the block key, despite needing that information to exist in the fucking body of the report. The hysterectomies, one by a dude who seems to exist to make a typist bounce around the report, to the point of putting the number of specimens per block at the end of the block key instead of after each block where they belong. And a twelve-minute monstrosity by the guy I am always left to type for because his accent is a pain and he always does reports around the ten-minute mark and ... there's too much about this guy to hate. Well, insofar as his dictation goes - he's a lovely guy with a frustrating way of working, is all.

So yeah, apparently it's now actually policy to leave me all the difficult, frustrating, and just plain egregious bits of dictation. Scruffman knows how bad this is for me. Apparently we just don't care anymore. Fuck.

So now I hurt worse. Anything I might want to do except become duvet burrito is going to hinder my ability to even half-recover in time for tomorrow. I mean, everyone but Violet is supposed to be back tomorrow but that has never helped before and I cannot imagine it's going to help now, at least not in the "Give [Thess] the long and annoying stuff" department. Thing is, if I'm denied some kind of enjoyable activity, I'm just going to be grumpy and resentful. Well. More so than I already am. Because I am resentful. I am resentful of being lumbered with the shit no one else wants to do (because I don't want to do it either; I just do it because it's my job and I wouldn't be so pissed off if everyone did their share). I am resentful of having been obliged to manage more or less on my own for three weeks beyond people grabbing a few of the simpler and easier reports (the ones I enjoy and tend to use to decompress). Basically it feels like everything is dumping on me right now and I am just fed right the fuck up.

And I still have one more day of this shit before I can have some time off. Which will more or less be blown trying to recover from the bullshit of the last few weeks. And if I don't manage to get some kind of recovery done between now and Saturday night, I might have to cancel my Saturday D&D game again, which I really don't want to do but if Friday continues like the last few weeks...

I'm just really, really fed up. Frustrated and resentful and tired and in a lot of pain and clearly I need this time off so, so badly. It wouldn't be anywhere near this bad if I didn't get saddled with everything.

I wish I had the energy and lack of pain to just punch something.

#Thess has a day job #Thess gets aerated

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leonbloder · 5 months

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Who Will You Be Expecting This Advent?

In his translation of selected works from the wisdom of Chuang Tzu, the late Christian mystic and theologian Thomas Merton included this poem, which I was struck by and knew I'd write about one day.

The Kingly Man realizes, this hides it in his heart, Grows boundless, wide-minded, draws all to himself. And so he lets the gold lie hidden in the mountain, Leaves the pearl lying in the deep. Goods and possessions are no gain in his eyes. He stays far from wealth and honor. Long life is no ground for joy, nor early death for sorrow. Success is not for him to be proud of, failure is no shame. Had he all the world's power he would not hold it as his own. If he conquered everything he would not take it to himself. His glory is in knowing that all things come together as One, And life and death are equal.

Chuang Tzu's poem was written in the 4th century BCE, hence the non-inclusive gender references, but you get the point.

The intent was to apply this wisdom to everyone who desired to understand what it meant to gain power and wield it well. They also need to recognize a proper leader when they see one.

It would be something to find a leader like this, wouldn't it? Good luck sniffing one out in any level of government in our current culture.

In fact, you'd have to take Chuang Tzu's virtues and invert them to describe most of our elected officials these days. Power and wealth are the only things they care about. Everything else they do is a means to those two ends, no matter their ideology.

Perhaps what motivated Merton to include this poem in his translation is that something within it resonated with him vis-a-vis Jesus himself.

To that point, almost all of the words of the Hebrew prophets found in the New Testament describing Jesus paint a portrait of a leader who gives of himself, even to death, for the sake of the people.

This is the perfect pre-Advent reflection for those of us preparing for the subsequent arrival of the Messiah and all that entails.

As Christians, we believe Advent is a centering point for us as we begin the new year within the historic church calendar. It's a time for us to be made ready and reminded that Christ is always arriving, showing up in whatever moments redemption is needed, resurrection is warranted, and the world needs hope.

But how do we recognize the Messiah when the Messiah arrives? What does that look like? It might look like what Chuang Tzu describes as the "Kingly man." This is the kind of leader, the kind of king, that we long for.

This king acts the opposite way a leader in our culture would work. This king loves sacrificially, gives freely, rejects all the regular notions of power, and simply exists to allow for the flourishing of others and all of Creation.

Any other vision of Christ is off the mark.

A version of Jesus that resembles anyone else, including political figures that far too many people who claim to follow Jesus lionize or describe in reverent tones, isn't Jesus. Period.

Far too often, when Americans look to the Church to try and see Jesus, they see something completely different than what Tzu and the Hebrew prophets described.

They see a combative, pugilistic version of Jesus who is ready to do battle at the drop of a hat, isn't shy about belittling or demeaning others, and has so little regard for the humanity of those outside of the Christian bubble; it's not only alarming but destructive.

As we prepare for the season of Advent and the expectation of the Messiah, let us reframe our understanding of who we're waiting for.

The One we call the King of Kings and Lord of Lords took on the form of a servant and was willing to give his life to save even those who crucified him. He was born into a poor refugee family in the most non-descript way.

He was tempted by power but never gave in to the temptation to wield it, except to heal, resurrect, and restore in the service of others. The only people he chided were the ones who thought they were too close to God to be reproached.

We're expecting Jesus, the Christ.

May those expectations give us hope and joy as we seek the shalom of the world, And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.

#presbymusings #dailydevotion #leonbloder #dailydevo #dailydevotional #christian living #leon bloder #faith #spiritualgrowth #spirituality #advent

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visionofhope04 · 3 years

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Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai

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pilothusband · 3 years

Text

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even.

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.”

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin.

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree.

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths.

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment.

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?”

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms.

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair, but your arms aren’t long enough to reach.

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

“Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing.

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

“Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

You moan and break the kiss.

“Want to take this to my room?”

He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

“Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

“So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

“So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

“We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern.

“No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace.

All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly.

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

#frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales pilot of my heart #all hail francisco morales pussy eating king

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed.

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it��s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce.

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

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

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

#father of mine #father of mine part 2 #bruce wayne reader insert #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #batboys #batfam #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fic #batman fic #batman universe #batman family

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Lucky in Love

Pairing: poly!Dream Team x gn!reader

Summary: [Soulmate!AU] It’s one thing to meet your soulmate in a lottery, and another to have more than just one. But when you end up winning Dream’s Minecraft Manhunt raffle, you find your world turning upside down in ways you least expect.

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: behold, my first commissioned story! this story has been altered from it’s original form so everyone can read it, but the majority of the plot and writing remain the same. i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hope you all like it! <3

You stumbled into your bedroom with a yelp, your thumb flying across your phone screen to the home button and pressing gently. With a gleam, the time flashed back at you, and your eyes shot wide open.

You were going to be late.

Leaning forward on one leg, you pushed the door behind you shut with your foot, bouncing forward as soon as you heard it click shut. Your eyes swept across the room, your gaze catching on a swath of black cloth sitting at the foot of your bed. With a quirk of your lips, you tugged the shirt off the mattress before turning on your heel. Darting to the other side of the room, you easily settled back into your desk chair and let the shirt drop onto your thighs.

Grabbing your mouse, you moved your cursor to the YouTube bookmark at the top of your screen, your computer screen instantaneously flooding with light. You scrolled over to the left side of your screen, your mouse hovering over a familiar green icon before clicking, a new box popping into view.

Stream starting in 60... 59... 58... 57...

You felt your lungs tighten within your rib cage, your toes curling ever so slightly into the floor. It had been a nerve-wracking month of waiting and pacing, crossing each day off the calendar with an anxious grin. You almost couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. Letting out one last breath, you leaned forward, the t-shirt feeling heavy in your lap.

3... 2... 1...

All of a sudden, the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you from the dim screen, your excited eyes peering back at yourself with a curious glint. Reaching up, you brush an unkempt lock of hair away from your forehead, just in time for two familiar faces and a lime green icon to appear.

The Dream Team.

“Hey, guys!” Dream said, his voice sounding like a breath of fresh air. “How are you all doing?”

A flurry of hearts flew across the live chat screen, the lines moving by so quickly that you couldn’t tell when one message ended and another started. Practically bouncing in your seat, you couldn’t help the smile that skittered across your cheeks.

“Good,” you whispered aloud to yourself in the quiet of your room. You knew that they couldn’t hear you when you talked like that, that they wouldn’t know you had even replied at all, but it made their streams feel a little more lively nonetheless.

After a brief pause, Dream’s voice filtered through the air once more, just as bright and eager as it was earlier. “Good? I hope the answer is good.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart flipping in your chest as your fingers curled into the shirt in your lap. That sort of thing happened sometimes: a streamer would say something and your verbal response almost made it feel like they were actually holding a conversation, like they were actually with you right now. These sorts of things were always a coincidence, but when everything in your world was connected by fate, sometimes you let yourself be a little hopeful, let yourself imagine that maybe it wasn’t dumb luck—that maybe it actually meant something.

Hell, maybe it meant you could be soulmates.

Soulmates were a tricky thing to think about, really, even if everyone knew they existed and that one day, they would meet theirs. No one could pinpoint when exactly soulmates came to be, but no one rejected their presence either way. It wasn’t like they wanted to, anyways. To have a person who was perfect for you linked to you by the universe—it was no wonder people were more than pleased to discover they weren’t just some old lover’s tale.

But even then, some were skeptics. How would you really know when you had found your soulmate? What if you missed them by accident? For you at least, you already knew what it would feel like. You couldn’t count just how many times you had asked your mother that very question, but you could practically rattle off her words by heart.

“You’ll know exactly when it happens, I promise, sweetie,” she would murmur, stroking your head with a gentle hum and soft eyes. “When you first touch, it feels like... like you’ve been struck by lightning, and you’ll be tingly all over. Something inside you just sort of clicks when you look at them, and you’ll just—you’ll feel it right here.” She tapped her finger over your heart, a wistful expression settling across her face. “It’s... it’s magical, and you’ll never forget that feeling—not for the rest of your life.”

The smile that would tug on your mother’s lips made you all the more hopeful, a heavy yearning settling deep into the crevices of your heart as the years went by. Even now, as you sat watching Sapnap and George bicker with each other while Dream chimed in with a snarky remark, you felt that same fleeting hope rising up in your chest, warm and soft.

Maybe—just maybe—they might be your soulmates.

Not that they actually were, of course. You knew better than to get your hopes too high.

But as you watched Sapnap’s lean a little closer to his camera and listened to George’s breathy laugh, you felt your heart swell the tiniest bit.

Connected by fate or not, these boys were special to you, even if you had never met.

Sapnap blinked as his eyes darted across his monitor, raising his eyebrows with surprise as he let out a short whistle. “Oh, wow, we’re pulling... holy crap—over seven hundred thousand viewers, right now.” You could vaguely hear the scrolling of his mouse, his lips twitching. “Everyone sounds so excited in chat, too.”

George’s eyebrow quirked. “I mean, of course they are. Manhunts are loads of fun—who wouldn’t want to be a part of them?”

Sapnap’s face split into a teasing grin, and he leaned back in his chair. “Ooh, you sure sound cocky, George.”

George blinked once, then scowled. “Wha—shut up, it’s true! Why else would there be so many people here?”

A devilish gleam flickered across Sapnap’s gaze. “To see your pretty face, maybe.”

George’s frown deepened, his eyebrows knitting together into a glower. “Sapnap, you—”

“Look, look,” he cried, wagging his finger at his monitor, “even chat agrees!” His lips curled up into a smirk, mischievous and amused all at once. “You’re not gonna say chat is wrong, are you, Gogy?”

You could have sworn a hint of rose flushed across George’s cheeks as he averted his gaze from his camera, his voice coming out softer than before. “W-Well, I—”

“Boys, boys,” Dream suddenly cut in, George’s words trailing off in an instant. Despite the firmness of his words, there was an amused lilt to his tone, the smile evident in his voice. “You’re both pretty, alright, but can we please move on? I bet everyone’s dying to know who won.”

George opened his mouth, then let out a sigh, shaking his head with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “You know what, Dream’s right. Let’s move on.”

Sapnap snickered on his side of the screen, still grinning widely. “You just can’t handle the truth.”

George groaned, deadpanning into the camera. “We are not starting this, again.”

Sapnap smiled, but didn’t get to speak before Dream cut him off. “You’re right,” he said, sounding a tad more hurried than before, “we’re not, because I’ve got the results, right here.”

You suddenly sat up, your heart stuttering. That same spark of hope fluttered up between your lungs, and you found yourself shuffling your chair forward, squinting in anticipation. Curiosity quivered around the edges of your mind, a certain eagerness pawing at your side as you watched a white pop-up fill the stream.

Everybody had an equal chance of winning—you knew that. That everyone may include you, but it also included every other person who bought one of those shirts. It didn’t take a genius to know that you weren't going to win. After all, not everything was guaranteed like having a soulmate was.

“And,” Dream began, dramatic and slow, “our winner is...”

You squeezed your hands, clasping your palms together with a feeling you couldn’t quite name.

“...shirt number 267815!”

You blinked, your brows furrowing together. That number sounded... oddly familiar. Your eyes flickered down to the shirt in your lap, the white tag peeking back up at you.

It couldn’t be.

All of a sudden, Dream’s voice rang through the air once more, sounding even clearer than ever before.

“Oh, and the name connected to the shirt is... [Y/N]!”

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your eyes shooting wide open as your jaw dropped.

I... won?

You gaped at your screen, only half-registering the sight of Sapnap and George clapping. The chat had become a blur of words you couldn’t bring yourself to read, your vision growing hazy and unfocused with shock. I must look crazy right now, you thought to yourself distantly, rubbing at your face. This can’t be real.

George’s gaze locked directly onto the camera, and for a second, it almost felt like he was speaking directly to you. “Congratulations, [Y/N]!” He wrinkled his nose with an apologetic smile. “I hope I’m saying that, right. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”

Sapnap chuckled, shooting him a devious grin. “Knowing George, he’s probably wrong.”

Your lips twitched at the frown that flitted across George’s face before Dream took over again. “Ignore them—they’re being dumb.” Before either of them could protest, he quickly added, “Anyways, welcome to Minecraft Manhunt! We’re looking forward to meeting you. We’ll send you an email soon, and you can give us some more info there.”

You nodded at your monitor, your lips still parted in surprise. “We’ll be ending the stream now,” Dream continued, “but thanks so much for everyone else who participated. Your love and support mean the world to us!”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and it sent a rush of warmth shooting down your spine. “[Y/N],” he murmured, suddenly sounding soft, “we’ll see you soon.”

As George and Sapnap waved one last time at their cameras with excited grins, you swallowed. Your heart rattled in your chest as the screen faded back to black, and you found yourself sitting face-to-face with your reflection once more.

You were right—you looked just as dumbfounded as you felt.

Slowly, you closed your mouth, lowering your gaze to the shirt in your lap. The axe that was laid out across your thighs somehow seemed brighter than it did before, almost as if someone had painted over it with a newer, shinier layer of white.

Lifting the shirt to your chest, you felt a wide grin tug at your lips—wider than any grin you had ever smiled before.

Maybe you were luckier than you thought.

Your finger hovered over the left button of your mouse, your breaths coming out shaky and short as they pumped through your lungs. The Discord call already had three icons waiting for you, and all you had to do was click to join them.

Breathe, [Y/N]. You’re only about to talk to three of your favourite content creators on the planet. It’ll be easy.

You paused, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not fooling anyone.

A groan rose in the back of your throat, and you hung your head in your hands for a long moment. “C’mon,” you whispered to yourself. “You can’t keep them waiting forever.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, then lifted your head, nodding once, then twice. Yes, okay—calm. I can be calm. Your finger twitched. Let’s do this.

Your hand reached back for your mouse, the cool plastic melding against your skin as your cursor hovered back over the call. Squeezing your eyes shut for just a second, you let your finger press down, a familiar ping echoing through your headphones. There was a beat of silence. Then, someone spoke.

“Hi! Hello!”

You jumped at that sound of Dream’s voice, your heart skipping a beat as you quickly reoriented yourself again. “H-Hi, there,” you said as calmly as you could muster.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]! I’m Dream.” There was a slight pause, then he added hesitantly, “Did I say that right, by the way? Your name, I mean.”

Your lips curled up into a smile, and you felt the tension seep out of your shoulders. “Yes, you got it right.”

You could almost imagine him grinning to himself triumphantly. “Perfect.”

A new voice suddenly jumped in, just as eager as Dream’s. “Don’t steal the spotlight already, Dream,” Sapnap whined, his icon flashing green. “There’s three of us, not just you.” Ignoring Dream’s quiet apology, he quickly moved on. “I’m Sapnap—it’s great to have you here.”

“And I’m George,” another voice added, his prominent accent sounding like honey in your ears.

Every ounce of anxiety you had been feeling earlier felt so far away now, their voices carrying your worries off over the horizon. “It’s nice to meet you all, too. My name’s [Y/N], but you already know who I am, don’t you?”

“Well,” George said, drawing out the vowel, “we may know a few things about you, but we don’t really know who you are—that’s something we want to hear from you.”

Sapnap made a noise of confirmation, his mouth moving at lightning speed as he suddenly began to fire off question after question. “Yeah, like, what’s your favourite flower? Or season? Which one of us do you think is the most handsome? Ooh, what about—”

“Woah, woah,” Dream cut in, wheezing ever so slightly, “one thing at a time, to start. Let them breathe, at least!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the hints of laughter tinting his voice. “It’s okay!” you said, your lips splitting into a crooked grin. “Although I don’t know if I can answer those questions.”

George let out a confused noise. “No? Why not?”

You hummed, swinging your legs around your chair. “Like for my favourite flower, I think they’re all really pretty and look nice, in their own little ways. Same thing for seasons.” You chuckled. “I’m too indecisive to pick just one.”

“But who do you think is the most handsome out of the three of us?” Sapnap prodded, excitement seeping into his tone. “It’s definitely me, right? Come on.”

“Hey,” George suddenly quipped, rushing through his words, “no flirting yet! We only just met!”

There was a brief second of silence. “I mean, isn’t that technically the best time to start flirting?”

“Sapnap.”

“Fine,” Sapnap sighed. You could practically hear him roll his eyes. “Friends first, flirting later.” You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when he added, “Carry on, though. I still want to hear your answer.”

Chewing on your lip, you stiffened, drumming your fingers against the side of your keyboard. “I’m telling you,” you sighed after a long moment, “I really don’t think I can pick. As a matter of fact,” you pointed out, raising a finger. “I don’t even know what one of you looks like.”

Now, it was Dream’s turn to speak up. “Then, talk about attractiveness, in general. It doesn’t just have to be about looks.”

You froze, your posture going rigid. Attractiveness in general…?

How could you possibly encapsulate their attractiveness just like that? Dream was so incredibly clever, and you loved to hear him talk about his passions. George was smarter than he let on, and you could see it in the way he coded their videos, working relentlessly to make them work. Sapnap was beyond affectionate, and just hearing him share his affection with those around him made your stomach melt. They were just handing you a recipe for disaster with a question like this, you knew it.

“This question is impossible,” you blurted, a gentle panic seeping into your tone. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned closer to your mic, adding with a teasing lilt, “Are you trying to torture me?”

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t,” Dream hummed, chuckling at the small whine that escaped your lips. “Either way, it’s cute to hear you struggle.”

Your breath suddenly hitched in your throat, but Sapnap was quick to leap forward. “Hey, what did we say about no flirting?”

Another beat of silence. “Killjoy.”

“Okay, moving on from that,” George said, quickly diverting topics, “how are you feeling, [Y/N]? Are you looking forward to the manhunt?”

You looked back at the call, your eyes locking onto the three Discord icons sitting next to your own. “Yes,” you admitted, “but I’m also very, very nervous.”

“Nervous?” Dream repeated slowly.

“Nervous,” you said again, “but a good kind of nervous.” You opened your mouth, then closed it. “Actually, I think excited is a better word to use. You guys always just seem like you have so much fun when you’re around each other, and I’m just...” You waved your hands in front of yourself, feeling your heart beat faster and faster while your face grew hot once more. “I’m just really excited to film with you all and play Minecraft together.”

Silence washed over the call, and your cheeks felt like they were about to burn right off your face. “Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassedly. “That—that probably sounds really dumb.”

“It doesn’t,” Sapnap said suddenly, making your gaze grow wide, “not at all.”

“Yeah,” George added with a joyful hum. “I dunno about those two, but I’m also excited to play with you, [Y/N].”

Dream guffawed, a scoff escaping his lips. “What do you mean you don’t know about us? Of course we’re excited! [Y/N] is great!”

You nearly fell out of your chair. “H-Huh?”

Dream’s voice was suddenly soft again, both parts soothing and cheerful all at once. “We might have only known each other for a little while, but I’m telling you, we’re beyond happy to have you here, and we want you to have a good time, too.”

“Oh, a thousand percent,” George said straight-facedly into his mic. “I’d trade you for both of these nerds in a heartbeat.”

Just like that, Sapnap was yelling as you heard Dream smack his desk. “George, what?! How could you say that?”

Giggling, you sank into your desk chair with a relieved smile, pressing a hand over your eager heart. “Thank you,” you murmured, only hoping they could hear the sincerity in your words. “I hope I don’t let you guys down.”

Their raucous bickering suddenly died down at the softness in your tone, and three voices spoke at the same time—each one sounding more honest than the last.

“You could never.”

You leaned forward in your desk chair, your eyes glued to your screen as you watched Dream’s avatar stand as still as a rock, frozen and entirely unmoving. Your finger hovered over your W key, waiting for the perfect moment to strike as your tongue darted out to flick over your bottom lip.

Manhunts may be stressful, but you were more than ready to tackle this one headfirst.

It happened so quickly that you nearly missed it. In one moment, Dream was standing in front of you, stock still as you stared him down. In the next, he was darting off in the opposite direction, already a whopping ten blocks away.

Sapnap’s voice shot through your headset like a bullet as he shouted, “After him!”

He didn’t need to say it again before the group was already dashing across the grassy field, boosting each other forward every other block. You clicked frantically at George’s backside, your lips twitching in glee as he shot the slightest bit closer to Dream. With each passing second, they ran further and further, Dream lying just a few steps out of reach. All of a sudden, he leapt off the side of a cliff, vanishing from sight in an instant. Coming to a screeching halt atop the hill, you watched as Bad peered over the forest, Sapnap and George hot on his heels.

“Where’d he go?” George muttered, confusion clouding his voice.

You shifted your mouse left and right as your gaze darted across your screen, scanning every pixel for even the tiniest hint of neon green. Just then, a gasp flew from your lips, and you caught Sapnap jolting in your direction at the sound.

“Look!” you cried, clicking to point over at the greenery. “He’s on the right—on top of the trees!”

Without missing a beat, everyone was leaping off the hill and barreling across the trees, ignoring their fall damage as they jumped over small gaps. “What is he,” George grumbled under his breath, “a monkey?”

You let out a tiny giggle at the genuine annoyance in his tone, but didn’t stop chasing after Dream’s running figure. Suddenly, he just barely missed his jump, bouncing twice on the same leaf block. He had only stalled for a brief second, but that was more than enough time for you to spam click your mouse. In a flash, Dream was tumbling off the tree, with you trailing right after him.

“I hit him off!” you shouted in glee, elation making every one of your syllables soar in your throat. “He’s on the ground.”

“Nice one, [Y/N]!” Sapnap chuckled with delight. “Now, don’t let him get away!”

The praise made the triumphant feeling that had unfurled beneath your ribs spread even farther under your skin, warming you from head to toe. Pushing forward, you nodded and slammed your thumb down on your space bar.

You had no plans of letting him escape.

You pulled your water bottle from your lips with a gasp, quickly screwing the cap back on before setting it down on your desk. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turned back to your monitor, your gaze focused on the anvil a few blocks away. To your left sat the portal, and to your right was a wall of obsidian.

You were four hours into filming now, but you still weren't tired. How could you be, when you were so close to the end?

Clicking on the anvil, you dragged the diamond axe in your inventory into the first slot before reaching for the enchanted book sitting just beside it. Forty-two levels—you would need forty-two levels to enchant your axe with Sharpness IV.

You glanced down at the space above your hotbar and grinned.

Luckily for you, you had forty-three.

Clicking once more, clanging echoed through your ears, and you placed your newly enchanted axe in your hotbar with a proud smile. It was an absolute pain having to kill as many mobs and loot as many desert temples as you did, but for this, it was absolutely worth it. Now, it was time for the rest of the plan.

“I have no idea how you came up with this,” George said earnestly, his character facing yours, “but I love it.”

You grinned, opening up your inventory and removing your amour. “I just got really, really lucky.”

Grabbing an invisibility potion, you suddenly paused, a hint of uneasiness sinking in your gut. If Dream noticed any particles, you would be dead in an instant, and your plan would be blown to smithereens. You would have to move quickly to make it work—almost ridiculously quickly.

Swallowing, you opened your mouth. “Do you guys think we can really pull this thing off?”

Sapnap let out an easygoing chuckle, your shoulders relaxing in an instant. “Oh, I know we can.”

Letting Sapnap’s confidence run through you, you held down your mouse’s right key, downing the invisibility potion in one go before turning to rush out of the portal room. Through your headphones, you heard Dream let out an inquisitive hum, curiosity flickering through his tone. “Just what are you guys up to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Sapnap fired back without missing a beat, his voice swimming with mischief.

While George let out a wheeze and you giggled at Sapnap’s sharp quip, Dream sighed, muttering, “So much for asking.”

Huffing out one last quiet laugh, the smile fell from your face, your eyes narrowing as your expression grew serious. You moved ever so carefully through the stronghold, weaving in and out of the labyrinthine halls like a snake on the hunt. Your gaze darted back and forth between the compass in your hotbar and your screen. With each sharp swing of the compass hand, you held your breath, turning until it was pointed forward again. You had been searching for a few minutes when suddenly, you spotted it.

A glimpse of green.

Dressed head to toe in enchanted iron armour, Dream’s avatar stood in front of a wall of furnaces, smelting away as he turned from one to the next. On the same wall was a crafting table and a chest. He was planning something, you just knew it, but you didn’t have the time to question what. After all, he was facing the wall opposite from you, completely unaware of your presence.

This was the perfect chance, and you weren’t going to waste it worrying.

Creeping forward, you stopped only when you stood just a single block away from him, switching from your empty hand to the enchanted diamond axe in your hotbar. With Sharpness IV, it would only take three critical hits for you to take him down.

For a second, all was still.

Then, you were pressing down on your space bar and clicking your mouse a half second later, watching with bated breath as Dream’s avatar twitched from your attack. One.

He had barely managed to turn around before you had already landed another hit on him. Two.

By the time he had pulled out his own axe and began scanning the seemingly empty air in front of him, you were slamming your finger down one last time. Three.

With a shout, Dream dropped dead before you, his inventory exploding into a mess on the floor at your feet. You blinked once. Twice.

Then, the call burst into a mess of screams and shouts.

Dream’s yell rang through your ears as George and Sapnap hooted in delight, Bad and Antfrost following with their own victory cheers. “What the heck?!” he cried, shock filling his every word. “[Y/N], was that you? Oh my god, where did you even come from?”

Practically gasping for breath, you nearly collapsed on top of your keyboard, the adrenaline slowly wearing off as you smiled triumphantly to yourself. “[Y/N], you did it!” Sapnap shouted, just as loud as before. “You—you just—holy crap!”

“I was so stressed,” you breathed, sagging against the back of your chair with a breathless laugh. “You have no idea.”

“You were awesome, so awesome,” George managed between giggles, his own voice sounding giddy and positively overjoyed. “I knew you could do it.”

Your cheeks half-felt like they were about to start hurting from how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Dream’s tired laugh filled your ears.

“Congratulations, [Y/N],” he murmured fondly. “You won.”

Just a week and a half later, you couldn’t believe your eyes as you scrolled through the comments section of the new video.

[y/n] was so funny omg

They made this manhunt feel so much more special

Their chemistry as a group was so good wtf!!!??!

please bring [y/n] back I am in LOVE

[Y/N] SUPREMACY

With each new comment you scrolled past, you felt your heart swell more and more in your chest with a mixture of joy and pride. You didn’t expect people to respond so positively to the video—to you.

You had barely made even a dent in the hordes of comments about you when a Discord notification popped up on your laptop screen. In a flash, you were pulling up Discord, quickly clicking on the appropriately named group chat, [Y/N] KILLED DREAM!!

Sapnap: hey

Sapnap: hey did you read the comments

[Y/N]: i did! people were so positive!!

[Y/N]: i wasn’t expecting it

George: You weren’t?

You furrowed your brows, reading George’s question twice before typing once again.

[Y/N]: of course not??? i’m just some person

[Y/N]: you guys are the dream team

George: Don’t put yourself down like that

Sapnap: yeah everyone liked the video because they liked you

Dream: well then

Dream: how do you feel about coming back to film again?

You stared at your screen in awe, something hopeful and weightless rising in the expanse of your chest. Filming another video? With them?

You didn’t even have to think before your fingers were typing out a response.

[Y/N]: i would love to

Peals of laughter tumbled from your lips as you rolled over on your bed, your phone perched beside your head on your pillow. A split second later, a loud whine echoed from your phone speaker, and you found yourself laughing even harder, your lungs gasping harder and harder for breath with each giggle that was pulled from your throat.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that you would be here.

It had been nearly a year since the fateful day that brought you and the Dream Team together and a little over ten months since you had first filmed together. Now, three videos and countless streams later, you were closer than ever before, cracking jokes and pushing each other’s buttons like you had known each other their whole lives—maybe even longer than that. It took some prodding, but you even called Dream by his real name, now. As much as you liked the name Dream, Clay sounded much nicer, in your opinion. Texting daily was practically a sacred ritual now, and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t get spammed by their texts at least four times a week. Even now, as you lay on your bed with your phone connected to Discord at your side, you were chatting with them, grinning as wide as ever. It was a comfortably pleasant lull you had fallen into, the four of you—one that you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life sinking into.

It was comfortable indeed, but even as complete as you felt now, you felt like there was something missing—like there was a hollow cavern in your chest just waiting to be filled.

Yet another shout suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, the noise sounding even more astounded than it had before. “How was I supposed to know that that was Russia?”

The sheer amount of shock in George’s voice immediately made you burst into another fit of giggles, throwing your head back. “There was Russian on the sign!” you managed between breaths. “It was so obvious!”

He sputtered at the sound of your laughter, sounding absolutely appalled by your reaction. “You can’t just expect me to be able to read Russian!”

You grinned, your voice dropping the tiniest fraction. “You act as if you don’t know how to say a few things in Russian.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, Sapnap whistled. “Touché, [Y/N]. You’ve got him there.”

While George groaned, surely smacking his palm into his forehead, Clay spoke up with a teasing hum. “You should play some GeoGuessr with us more often. You’re way better at this than George.”

“This is bullying,” came a distant complaint from George, his voice coming out muffled through his mic.

“It’s the truth,” you corrected with a cheeky grin. “You cannot deny that.”

There came a snort, followed by Sapnap’s gentle laugh. “Look at you, [Y/N], being so mean all of a sudden.”

You smiled lopsidedly, trying to push back the shiver that ran down your spine at the way his low voice made your insides melt. “You know you guys love it.”

“We do.” Clay’s voice almost sounded far away, muffled and hazy. “We really, really do.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as a soft silence washed over the four of you, your chuckles dying down and fading into the quietness of your bedroom. Sighing deeply, you picked at your nail, silently begging your heart to calm down again. It was right then when George softly piped up.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he said quietly. When you let out a small noise, he continued. “We… you would call us close to you, right?”

You laughed at the hesitancy in his tone. For a second, he almost sounded shy, and it sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. “Do you even have to ask? We’ve been friends for months—of course we are!”

You could make out the faint sound of shuffling from Clay’s end, his icon flashing green. “Are—” He coughed. “Does that mean we’re close enough to ask you a… somewhat private question?”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone, your curiosity piquing. “Go for it,” you said gently, letting your eyelids flutter comfortably shut.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?”

In an instant, your eyes shot wide open again, and you lay frozen in your bed. In all the time you had known each other, not once had you brought up the topic of soulmates. It was almost as though you had simply skirted around it, too shy to press on about. But right now, with the topic lying right in front of your face, you couldn’t just avoid the topic.

Your fingers twitched as your mouth fell open. “N-No,” you stammered, the butterflies in your stomach going oddly still. “I, um, I haven’t. Have any of you?”

There was a pause. “No, none of us.”

You thought for a moment, your heart mulling over those four little words. Then, you exhaled and let your shoulders relax against the mattress, your nails curling into your palm. “I’m sure you guys have nothing to worry about,” you murmured almost hazily. “There are probably thousands and thousands of people who would love to be any one of your soulmates.” You chuckled, but it tasted bittersweet on your tongue. “Heck, there’s probably at least half a million fans who would be dying to take my place, right now.”

On the other end of the line, you were met with silence, but it was fleeting. “What about you?” Clay suddenly asked.

You blinked, your palm going slack. “Me?”

“You,” Clay affirmed, sounding more serious than before. “If you were one of our soulmates, how would you feel?”

The words left your lips before you could stop them. “Happy,” you blurted, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, so happy. I—”

You suddenly slapped your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off with wide eyes. Realization struck you like a lightning bolt, and you could feel your blood run cold in your neck. I did not just say that.

“What—” George stopped. Then, a second later, he continued. “Which one of us would you want it to be? To be your soulmate?”

With trembling fingers, you moved your hand away from your mouth, your voice coming out small. “Are you asking me who I like most?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You almost felt your heart drop, bolting upright until you were sitting atop your sheets. Wrapping your hand around your phone, you balanced it on your lap, uncertainty springing up in your gut.

Who... I like most?

Dream, George, and Sapnap. Sapnap, Dream, and George.

To think that just a year ago, you had never spoken to them—had only ever known them as three strangers through a screen. Yet here you were now, their voices soft against your ear and your heart aching at the sound of their laughter. They made you smile beyond belief, and you wouldn’t miss a call with them for the world, even if it was three in the morning and you were dead asleep. Although you had spent time with each of them individually, just as friends did, you loved spending time with all three of them together far more, and you didn’t want to imagine having them any other way.

George, Sapnap, and Dream.

Who did you like most?

You swallowed, then opened your mouth. “I,” you choked out, “I don’t—I wouldn’t—”

You stopped, your heart pounding like a drum between your lungs. You could feel them waiting for you, as patient and caring as ever. The thought made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Screwing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath and whispered.

“I don’t think I could ever pick just one of you.”

The silence that filled the air as you closed your mouth was tense. A million unspoken words ricocheted off the insides of your mind, your heart racing within the confines of your chest. The air suddenly felt too hot, and you kicked the covers off your legs, curling your knees closer to your chest and resting your burning cheeks on top of them.

“Maybe this is a sudden thing to say,” Sapnap whispered abruptly, his words coming out slurred as he broke the silence, “but I really, really want to know what you look like right now, [Y/N].”

You felt your arms go limp around your legs. “Me, too,” George added, thoughtful and faint. “I bet you’re beautiful.”

Resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands, you ran your finger along the edge of your phone screen, the glass pressing against your hot skin. “I—um,” you began shakily, “you’ll see when we meet, okay? This way, two of us can stay a mystery.”

Clay’s soft chuckle rippled through your bedroom once more, bouncing off the walls and making your chest ache even more. “Alright.”

You felt your chest constrict with heat, feeling like you were almost about to burst at the seams from the way they were speaking. “W-Well,” you laughed, trying not to sound as panicked as you felt, “on that note, I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.” You opened your mouth to continue when a yawn cut you off, eliciting a string of laughs from your phone speaker. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”

“Sweet dreams, [Y/N],” George murmured tenderly. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed with your heart battering against your ribs. “Goodnight!”

Reaching over, you pressed your thumb over your phone screen, exiting the call just as swiftly as you had joined. That had been hours ago now, and while you were tired, you couldn’t shake the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach—twisting and turning as you laid back on your bed. You slipped your phone onto your nightstand, plugging it in in a forlorn haze before lying back once more. Staring up at the lonesome ceiling, you frowned, your heart suddenly feeling like an anchor in your chest.

Without even an inch of doubt, you knew: you liked them—all three of them.

And it was going to be the end of you.

Having a crush was a dangerous thing in a world full of soulmates, especially if they were online—even more so if you had multiple. You could only ever find out if someone was your soulmate if you met them in person, and you had heard far too many stories of couples meeting in person, only to learn that they weren’t fated to be. Combining that with multiple soulmate bonds slimmed the chances even further. Multiple soulmate bonds weren’t exactly unheard of, but they were rare. You had never met anyone who had one, and you doubted that you would be the first you’d know to have one.

You suddenly felt it—that familiar spark of hope you felt all those months ago when you sat at your desk chair with a shirt on your lap. The hope that drew you to them now was the very same hope that connected you in the first place. Your heart leapt, lapping up every last droplet like a man dying of thirst, yet with each new spark that rained down in your chest, the thought clawing at the back of your mind loomed larger and larger.

Just what exactly were the chances all four of you would be soulmates? It had to be next to nothing if it wasn’t zero already.

This wasn’t like the manhunt raffle—lady luck could only be so generous.

Rolling onto your side, you felt something deep inside you reach its hands up and wrap around your lungs, squeezing as tightly as it could. The ache that shot through your insides stung like a hot coal, but you knew there was nothing you could do to soothe its hungry flames. Unshed tears pricked the back of your eyelids like silver needles, and you squeezed your eyes shut, choking back a muffled whine. Your bedroom suddenly felt too big, your bed too empty.

Hope could be beautiful, but it could also destroy you from the inside out.

“Do not leave the call.”

Clay’s chuckle sent a frown skittering across your face, and you let out a small whine as you leaned forward in your desk chair. “Aww,” he crooned, teasing and light, “are you jealous, Georgie?”

“N-No, what?” George sputtered, and you could almost envision the way his cheeks would flush a pretty shade of baby pink. “Just—just don’t hang up.”

“I’m telling you,” Sapnap laughed with a sly lilt, his voice sounding a little more distant than Clay’s, “he’s jealous.” You vaguely could make out the sound of his signal light from inside his car, a muffled car horn echoing from outside. “Or at least if he isn’t, [Y/N] is.”

At that, you whipped your head up, blinking wide as you shot a glare at Sapnap’s Discord icon on the side of your monitor screen. “Well, [Y/N]?” Clay drawled, a flicker of mischief dancing in his tone. “What do you have to say about that?”

You curled your fingers into your hands, a small pout settling onto your features as heat shot across your face. “I—I am!” you said, your voice coming out a fraction louder than you intended. When the other line went quiet, you shuffled back in your seat, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I am jealous, okay? It’s... it’s just not fair that you two get to meet before we do.”

There was a brief moment of silence. You were being childish, you knew, but at least you were being honest. Suddenly, Clay spoke. “We know, sweetheart,” he said gently, not at all realizing how your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. “But you’ll be able to meet us soon. Just wait a bit longer, okay? I’ll buy you both plane tickets if I have to.”

You pouted with a dejected whimper, your finger drawing small circles onto the side of your desk. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so sad,” Sapnap chuckled with a soothing coo. “As soon as we can get you two over here, we will.”

You let out a sigh, swinging your chair from side to side with a frown. Was it so wrong of you to want to meet them so badly, to want to see them and hug them? Part of you didn’t even care if you were all soulmates at this point—you just wanted to hear them laugh in person. You wanted to make them smile. Was that really so much to ask for?

“I see him!” Clay suddenly shouted. Your head shot up faster than a bullet, and you heard the sound of a front door opening and slamming shut. “Oh, Sapnap.”

“Oh, Dream,” Sapnap called mockingly, his smile shining through in his voice. There was the sound of the car engine stopping, then a car door swinging open. “Holy crap, you’re way taller than I expected.”

You chuckled at the surprise in Sapnap’s voice, hearing George laugh along with you. “Jeez,” Clay muttered, his voice overlapping ever so slightly with the mic on Sapnap’s phone. “It’s so weird actually seeing you in person, oh my go—”

All of a sudden, Clay went silent, cutting himself off with a strangled noise of surprise. On Sapnap’s end, there was a muffled choking sound, then nothing. In a flash, you were upright, your eyes wide and your hand flying to your mouse.

“Sapnap?” George called, his tone soaked with worry. “Clay? Are you two alright?”

There came a gasp, and you could make out the sound of Sapnap struggling to search for words. “You’re—Clay’s my—”

Just like that, it clicked, like a switch had been flipped inside you. You felt something in your chest deflate, and you opened your mouth.

“Soulmates,” you whispered so quietly that you would have missed it yourself, had you not been the one to say it. “You two are soulmates, aren’t you?”

George fell silent. “I think so,” Clay mumbled, his tone coming out as if he were in a daze. “I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life—it definitely feels like what everyone says, you know? Just, really warm, and.... and...” He trailed off, ending with an enamoured sigh. “Yeah.”

Your mouth felt as though it had been sewn shut, like you wouldn’t have been able to force the words from your lips even if you tried. “How did we not know after all these years?” Sapnap giggled, his voice swimming in a mixture of disbelief and affection.

“We’ve never met in person up until now,” Clay mused, his sentence rising at the end. “This is the first time we’ve ever seen each other, let alone touched.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Sapnap murmured back wistfully. The call suddenly went quiet, and a deep, disappointed quiet fell over the four of you. Not a word was said as the harsh reality slowly settled into your hearts.

Clay and Sapnap were soulmates.

Only Clay and Sapnap.

“I’m happy for you two!” George suddenly shouted, startling you in your chair. He sounded oddly chipper—too chipper. “I wish—” He suddenly choked, pausing for a moment to catch his breath again. “I wish I was already friends with my soulmate. Meeting new people is hard.”

“Who knows?” Clay chuckled. His words were teasing, but even they couldn’t mask how crestfallen he sounded. “Maybe [Y/N] is yours.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap hummed in agreement, the hopefulness in his voice sounding just as forced as his soulmate’s. “You hear that, [Y/N]? Maybe you and Gogy were meant to be.”

Your vision was hazy and unfocused, your gaze focused on the window in your room. In the corner of the glass was a small spider web, just barely the size of your palm. You watched with blurry eyes as a fly caught in the sticky web beat its wings in desperation, struggling helplessly as a spider crawled out from behind the windowsill. You distantly wondered how trapped that fly felt—if it knew that there was no point in hoping for anything better, now.

Turning away from the window, you focused your gaze down at yourself, down at the black shirt you were wearing. A clean white axe stared back up at you, and you felt a bittersweet smile stretch across your face as you uttered a single word.

“Maybe.”

A loud beep echoed from the ceiling speakers, and you jumped at the sound. All around you, people were bustling in and out of gates, towing luggage behind them as they rushed down the crowded pathways and between loitering groups of people. You whipped your head this way and that at the sight, your head spinning with all the new sights and sounds.

It was still hard to believe that just a few months prior, you wouldn’t have been able to step foot in an airport like this.

To see people move from one place to the next, seeing loved ones and meeting new people for the first time was almost exhilarating, especially after all that had happened with the world. You liked it, and you certainly hoped that it was here to stay.

You had just started walking down the main path when you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Fishing it out, your face lit up at the caller ID, and you picked up without waiting another second, pressing the cool glass to your ear with a smile. “Hi, George.”

“Hey!” he greeted with a cheerful tone. “Did you get here safely?”

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you curled your fingers a little tighter around the handle of your suitcase with a hum. “Yep.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and it sent a familiar tingle of warmth bouncing down your spine. “How are you feeling?”

You paused, your steps faltering for a brief second as you pondered. “Nervous,” you said after a moment or two, “but a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he repeated with a fond tone. “I think I know the word you’re looking for.”

Your lips curled up at his words, your mind flashing back to a distant day from long, long ago. “Yes, George, I’m excited.”

The laugh that fell from his lips sounded like pure music to your ears, and you caught yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind drowning in the sound. “Me, too.” As you wove between a few sectioned off groups, George added gently, “You know where to meet us, right?”

You nodded with a small noise of confirmation, making a sharp turn down yet another long hallway. “Yeah—I’m pretty sure Clay and Sap are already waiting for us.”

George snorted, both affectionate and teasing at once. “Oh, I know they are. I’ll see you there?”

You grinned, bobbing your head along to the beat of your suitcase wheels rolling across the polished tiled floors. “For sure. See you there!”

Lowering your phone from your ear, you pressed your thumb against the screen before letting it drop into your pocket once more. A sigh escaped your lips as you let the ache you had been suppressing tumble loose, throbbing and gnawing away at the shaky shards of your heart.

How long had they known that Clay and Sapnap were soulmates, now? Five months? Six? You weren’t sure if you could even bring yourself to keep count, anymore. It hurt too much to think about. You were happy for them, you really were. But the selfish part inside you still longed for their touch, even if they wouldn’t ever truly be yours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like George, but you meant what you said—you couldn’t pick just one, and you wanted all of them, as greedy as it was.

Shaking your head, you pushed forward, your gaze darting up to the navigational sign hanging from the ceiling. No matter how painful it may be, you weren’t going to let your own heart get in the way of how amazing today was going to be. You were meeting your favourite people in the world today, and nothing was going to take that away from you.

Not even heartbreak.

Glancing briefly over at a map on the wall, you huffed as you dragged your suitcase up a set of stairs and through the corridor, chewing on the inside of your lip. George’s gate was on the opposite side of the airport from yours, and Clay and Sapnap were waiting in the middle for the two of you. His flight had arrived a bit before yours, so you knew you were just going to have to find all three of them together.

After another few minutes of walking, you found yourself walking into the central dome of the airport, the glass ceiling filtering natural light into the room as you wheeled your luggage in. Your lips parting in awe at the sight, you swept your gaze across the busy room, scanning over every head you could find. You had only been looking for a few moments when a head of dark sepia hair caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes, you shuffled forward carefully. Then, your lips split into a triumphant grin.

There they were.

In a heartbeat, you felt your insides melt at the sight. Sapnap and George looked as handsome as ever, their lips curled up into dazzling smiles as they spoke, and Clay—oh, Clay. This was the first time you would ever be seeing each other’s faces, but you didn’t have to see him to know that he was pretty. With tousled golden locks and emerald green eyes that flashed like gemstones, he was everything you could have asked for and more.

Chatting casually with one another, all three of them were dressed in comfortable clothes, and you wanted to fling yourself at them and bury yourself into their warm touch. Sucking in a deep breath, you marched toward them, slinking around so that you were facing their backs. Hugs could come later—right now, it was time for a surprise.

Treading slowly and carefully, you only stopped when you stood a foot behind them, the giddiness rising in your chest as you finally opened your mouth.

“Sapnap was right. You are tall.”

The three of them immediately whirled at the sound of your voice, their eyes as wide as saucers as their gazes locked on yours. The grin on your face only grew wider as you watched their faces light up in unison, like a set of stars coming together in the night sky.

“[Y/N],” they said at the same time, blinking wildly as you sent them a small wave.

You laughed. “Here I a—”

“We were right, too,” Clay suddenly blurted, bending over slightly. “You are beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed with bubbling heat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. “I—ah, um,” you stammered, taking a step back. “You look good too, Clay.”

Sapnap took a step forward, reaching his hand out toward you with a soft smile. “So, we finally meet,” he hummed, a brilliant gleam flashing across his eye. “Does this mean I get to hug you, now?”

You grinned, and with a giggle, you were leaping forward, your suitcase wobbling behind you as you let go. The moment you felt warm arms wrap around your backside, you felt yourself relax.

Then, your skin suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Warmth surged up your spine like a rippling flame, your eyes shooting wide open as you gasped, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of Sapnap’s shirt. In an instant, you were stumbling back, clutching at the space over your heart. You could feel it going absolutely haywire in your chest, pounding like never before. Your entire body felt as light as a feather, and your mind felt strangely hazy.

Impossible—it had to be.

“Sap,” you choked out, your eyes locking onto his own wide ones, “you—”

“George, Clay,” he suddenly said, reaching a hand out toward the two boys, “get over here. Right now.”

The two of them had been standing stock still just a few steps away, their jaws dropped and faces contorted with surprise as they watched you and Sapnap tremble across from one another. Swallowing, George took the first shaky step forward, reaching his hand toward yours. The moment your fingers brushed, the same tingling warmth crashed over you like a wave, and you let out a soft noise, happiness blooming in your throat like a blossom in spring. You watched with earnest eyes as George’s expression mirrored yours, his rosy lips parted in surprise as his fingers latched onto yours. The hope you had locked away months ago came pouring out of your glowing heart like a waterfall, overwhelming every inch of your senses.

“It’s not just us,” you whispered, your voice brimming with nebulous hope. “It’s George, too.”

George lifted his head, his breath hitched as he turned. “That just means...”

All three of your gazes landed on Clay, who was still frozen in place, stock still with shock. Your eyes darted to Sapnap’s, then George’s. You nodded in unison, and without saying a word, you stepped forward. You slipped your hand into Sapnap’s, your heart trembling with adoration at how big and warm his palm was against your own. Sharing one last glance with one another, you nodded. Just like that, you were slipping your hand into Clay’s, George following suit while Sapnap grabbed his.

In a heartbeat, everything felt perfect.

The empty cracks in your heart no longer felt as wide as they once did, instead flooding with burning warmth and something that felt like love. Your head spun with dizzying affection, and you felt your vision grow watery, but for an entirely different reason, now.

God, you loved them, you loved them, you loved them.

At your side, Sapnap’s hand shook in yours, surprise lacing his every word. “I can’t believe it.”

“A four-way soulmate bond,” George breathed, his own mouth twitching up into a lovestruck grin. “I—I never thought we’d have one. I mean, I always hoped but—”

Suddenly, Clay spoke up, his voice hoarse but full of sincerity. “W-Woah, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

In a flash, their eyes were on you, who had let go of Clay’s hand to press your palm against your eye. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” you said, your voice shaking with overwhelming emotion. “I’m just—I’m so happy.” A quiet sniffle bubbled up in your throat, but it didn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “I liked you all so much and I was so scared that only George was going to be my soulmate, because you’re all so important to me, and I couldn’t just give you guys up like that.”

“[Y/N],” Clay choked out, his own voice starting to wobble, “stop, please. You’re going to make me cry.”

Laughing, you leaned against him, soaking into the warmth of his body as his arm instinctively wrapped around you. “Just—just cry with me, okay? We can all cry together.”

You didn’t need to say it twice. Not even a split second later, and you felt two more pairs of arms snake up around you, a nose burying itself into your hair as a cheek pressed against yours. “It looks like you won more than just one lottery then, huh?” Sapnap mumbled from above you, his chest rumbling against your back.

“Yeah,” George chuckled, his fingers lovingly rubbing small circles against your arm. “First the manhunt, now this. Just how lucky can one person be?”

You smiled, rubbing your head against Clay’s shoulder with a loving hum. “I don’t know what the universe was thinking,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut as you gently rocked back and forth together, “but I’m glad I won. You three are the best prize I could have ever asked for.”

You felt a pair of lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head, your heart sighing in your chest. “I love you,” someone whispered, too softly for you to tell who it was.

All around you, the bustling airport kept moving, full of life and bursting with energy as the crowds flowed around you like a river. The world was still moving, the planet still turning beneath your feet as you embraced one another, warm and safe in each other’s arms. But in that moment, none of that mattered. A dazzling spark danced along the crevice of your heart, bright and warm and oh-so full of hope as you opened your mouth to whisper back.

“I love you all, too.”

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