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#It was and still is my happy place to escape to
dazednmatthews · 2 days
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(crazy how) this love thing seems unfair~ m. sturniolo
short mini fic cause i lurve this song so bad. angsty asf w a semi-happy ending. enjoy my loves <3333
“mattttttt,” her voice is coated in sleep. “come back to bed.” matt is standing at his closet door, rubbing his own tired eyes. it’s about nine in the morning, much too early to be doing anything other than laying in bed with her.
“you know that i can’t, sweetheart. i have to go work with the guys.” he finally picks a top, a soft, white sweatshirt that’s semi-cropped.
“boooooooo.” she sits up, pushing the curls that escaped her bun away from her face. the look on her face almost makes matt want to say fuck it and stay right here.
after he puts on his shoes and cologne, he walks to the side of the bed and sits. she sinks into him, body melting into his touch. they sit there for a moment, no sound in the room except their breathing. it’s peaceful.
she leans up in his arm and places a kiss at the shell of matt’s ear, making the boy groan softly. “don’t do that. it makes me want to stay right here.”
another kiss, this time under his jaw. “that’s the idea.”
one of matt’s hands are kneading the flesh of her thigh, pausing momentarily to rub circles with his thumb. the other hand is planted gently on her waist. he grips a little tighter when she kisses the corner of his mouth.
“stop touching me like that if you’re leaving.” she whines, pulling away slightly. “so not fair.”
he pulls her back. “give me a real kiss.”
she shakes her head. “ew, no. morning breath, hello.”
matt gives her a flat look. “i put my literal tongue inside of you twenty four seven and you think i give a fuck about morning breath?”
she shoves his shoulder with an incredulous laugh. “it is nine in the morning, matthew!” her eyes are sparkling now. “tone it down.”
matt shrugs. “i’m just saying.”
there’s a brief moment where they lock eyes, and suddenly it’s like all the air in the room has been sucked out. matt moves his hand up, feeling the thrum of her heart beating rhythmically. it’s one of his favorite sounds.
she moves into his lap, his hands coming to the swell of her ass to steady her. her arms loop around his neck, face close.
she pulls him in, gently connecting their lips. the way the interlock is something out of matt’s wildest dreams, serenity coating him from head to toe. he’s tugging and grasping with all his might, always needing her closer.
he can feel her lashes on his cheek, can feel her nails on the nape of his neck, can feel her love through every swipe of her tongue. he never wants to be anywhere but here.
there’s a knock at the door. “matt, we gotta go!” it’s chris. “y’all are too quiet in there so i’m staying my ass out here.”
she breaks the kiss with a giggle. “duty calls.”
he groans, resting his head on her shoulder. “so not fair.”
though it’s a fight, from matt mostly, she untangles herself and stands. she extends a hand to pull matt up, giving him a chaste kiss. “it’s okay, matty, go. i’ll be right here when you get back. always.”
***
turns out that always didn’t mean forever.
there’s a low static sound coming from the t.v, but matt pays it no mind. he’s been sat there for what feels like hours, staring into the distance. he has no idea where his brothers are, something about a friends house or something.
it’s been a couple months since the two split. since matt’s entire world shifted off its axis. he hasn’t seen you since you came to drop off the box of stuff that was filling your apartment. still hurts like the first day though.
matt fights with the same urge he gets every night at about this time. during the day is easier. he’s either asleep or so busy with work that he doesn’t really think about the you-shaped hole in his life. doesn’t really think about the absence of your toothbrush in his bathroom, or the lack of your perfume on his sheets. yeah, the day is infinitely easier.
it’s at night, when he cracks. when he turns in bed and there’s no one there. when he can’t hear the sink running because you’re doing your ridiculous sixteen-step skincare routine. when he walks to his bed just fine because there’s no ill placed bag in the middle of the floor to trip over. it feels like walking into a room and immediately forgetting what you were meant to be doing. he knows something is missing, but he doesn’t know how to get it back.
he wants to call you. wants to talk. to sort through all the communication that wasn’t handled well. it wasn’t a messy breakup, or even a hostile one. and somehow, matt thinks that’s worse. he’d prefer yelling and arguing and just knowing you weren’t right for each other anymore.
but it wasn’t that. instead it was distance and tears and feeling like right now there just wasn’t enough space in each others lives for one another.
he didn’t want this. at all. he wondered if you felt the same. he’d stared at the phone countless night willing himself to dial the number. to draft a text. he’d spent just as many willing you to do the same. it never came though.
matt knows tonight is different. the hum of the ac is lulling the anxious feelings in his stomach. he knows by the way his shaky hands grab his phone that this time is going to be the one.
he doesn’t know what to say, nor how to get it out. he wants to pour his heart out, but he also can’t do that without looking at you. without seeing you and feeling the rush of unwavering love he always got whenever his eyes met yours. it wouldn’t be fair.
so he starts off light and hopes for the best. you always did used to say that he had a way of knowing you better than anyone else.
he hopes to god that’s still true.
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a/n: i’m tewwwwww good to y’all fr. jus sumn lite bc i love that damn song soooo bad and it came on this morning and a giant ass cartoon lightbulb went off in my head. anyway number neighbor part five & six later today cause ik that’s what u guys really want 😭 i hope u guys like this okie bye i love you all sooooo bad!!!
TAGLIST:
@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @giannasturn @iluvmattsbeard @mattsmad @bambi-slxt
(also if i add tags based on requests and on comments so if u ever want to be taken off let me know!!!! jus send me an ask or a message and it’s no problem <3333)
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conflictofthemind · 2 days
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Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"
Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes
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I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.
In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.
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Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.
The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).
That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.
Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.
Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.
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Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.
I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.
But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.
He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.
It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.
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"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".
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loveshotzz · 3 days
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I have to know what would we do to spoil our old man on his birthday 🥺🥺🥺🥺
we’d spoil him rotten 🥺
here’s semi spicy 18+ blurb about giving our favorite old man a massage on his birthday ♥️
(this blurb is for my au All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand-alone. Steve is 43 and fem!reader is 31 requested so long ago by @joekeerysmoles 💕) wc:600
The rose oil that covers your hands makes your fingertips glide over his broad freckled shoulders with ease. Eucalyptus hangs thick and heavy in the warm air, crackling from the wooden wicks inside the candles that provide the only light in his room. They help the nerves that still flutter even after a year of saying ‘I love you’.
Steve lays flat on his chest underneath you only in his boxer briefs, the gold Gucci emblem around the waist band shimmers in the low light. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, dipping down the plush bedding of his new king size mattress. A 43rd birthday gift to himself, while you sit in nothing but the thin red lace of the one you got for him.
Leaning forward with a smirk, your lips ghost across two of your favorite moles that dot the back of his neck, the tip of your nose tracing the shell of his ear.
“Happy birthday old man.”
Applying just enough pressure up the dip of his spine, you earn a low moan from him that vibrates deep in your core. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to rock your hips and chase it.
“Honey,” his voice comes out muffled from around the tops of his hands,“I wish there were words to describe how good this feels.”
Giggling with a chest full of pride, you catch a flash of his white teeth, stubble covered cheeks pushing up at his favorite sound. One of his big hands slips out, shoulders flexing with his movement as he reaches back to squeeze at the soft dough of your thigh before disappearing back to where it came from.
A content sigh escapes from between his pink lips as your focus shifts to his neck, your fingers digging at the tense muscles under his gold chain. The metal glistens with oil every time it catches the glow of the flickering candle, while your thumb and forefinger knead behind his ears.
“Shit, baby.”
Huffing with furrowed brows, he readjusts so he can turn his head to the other side. The movement slides you forward, creating just enough friction to bite down on your bottom lip. The dull ache between your legs becomes even harder to ignore, and you wonder if he can feel just how wet you are.
“Yeah, is that the spot?” You coo all sticky sweet, working it with even more focus. He sucks in a sharp breath, his teasing kisses all night spurring you on.
”God, fuck - yeah, yeah, right there.” He groans loud enough to drown out the sounds of The O’Jays vinyl playing downstairs, your thumb finally loosening up a hard knot.
His whole body melts under your touch, the hard lines of his face relaxing while the blunt ends of your nails scratch at the silver hairs hiding in the nape of his neck. Letting go of his long work week with deep breath, the movements have your hips rolling on their own, his oiled sun kissed skin making it too easy to do again.
He hums knowingly, relishing in the soft tug of his hair loving the way you squeal when he flips himself over. Big hands grab at your hips to keep you in place, the effects of your massage had on him becoming obvious nestled between your thighs.
There’s still no preparing for the sight beneath you, and despite seeing it almost every day, you still can’t believe he’s yours.
His soft hair is a tousled mess of auburn and silver on top of his head, begging you to drag your hands through it. The five o’clock shadow that peppers his strong jaw is at your favorite length, and sometimes you think he grows it out a little longer just for you. His gold chain that hangs off his neck fits like a choker, no longer lost in the thick patch of chest hair that you swear has a few more gray curls inside of it after today. Letting your hands wander his chest, your gentle touch makes the subtle muscles of his abs twitch. Perfect teeth biting down on his full bottom lip, watching you in awe.
“You know I hate my birthdays? Always have.” Steve hums, warm palms gliding up your thighs, squeezing at the soft dough before digging his long fingers into your hips, “Now I wish it was every day with you lookin’ like this, pretty girl.”
”Who says it can’t be?” You grin, running your slick hands back up his pecs, nails scratching in the coarse hair there.
Leaning forward, you fix his chain bumping the end of your nose with his, rolling your hips slowly, you feel him twitch inside the soft cotton of his briefs.
”It certainly feels like it,” he whispers with a smile against your lips.
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bunnys-kisses · 3 days
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werewolf!simon 🐺 (bc happy 3,000 followers to me <3)
you met because you were lost in the woods while camping. it wasn't your fault that all of the trees looked the same! but it led you into simon who led you back to his cabin so you could call the park ranger! simon even made you some tea before he called the land-line.
park ranger johnny or 'soap' said that the truck was out of service so it would have to wait until tomorrow. "you can be a gentleman, right simon?" he laughed over the phone. simon grumbled in response, this wasn't going to be the best idea.
it was the full moon after all.
simon allowed you your personal space as he went about his cabin. he even allowed you to use his bed for the evening. you told him that you were fine on the couch! the issue was that the bedroom could be locked from the outside, usually for his own protection. but tonight it was for yours.
"um... mister simon." you said, "i'm sorry that i'm intruding so much."
"it's alright." he got up from his spot in front of the fireplace. he walked past you and rubbed your hair as he went by, "the woods aren't a safe place."
"i was told only deer hang around here."
he chuckled, "you should be more afraid of men." he went to the nearby kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. he opened it with ease and took a sip, "man destroys."
"well." you stepped forward in a daring move, "you're a man and you're taking good care of this place." you swallowed, "i don't think the entire species is doomed."
he chuckled and took another sip, "i'm not a man."
you stilled, "so like an alien."
he put the beer down and pulled away from the counter, "more beast than man. every full moon, beasts like me roam the woods. sometimes we get a little hungry."
"so you would've eaten me?" you swallowed, you balled your fists just in case you had to make an escape.
he approached you, but you were frozen still. instead of touching you with force, it was so gentle. his thumb was dragged down your cheek, "no. i don't hurt pretty things. but i would've snapped my fangs at anything that tried to come near your tent. so for your sake, stay in my room. so i can't hurt you."
you found the courage to touch him back. your fingers dragged down the scar on his face, "but what if they come too close to your home?"
he smiled a little, "i'll give you my shotgun."
you swallowed, "well.. mister simon. maybe i need your protection?" it was better that you had a familiar face around the cabin instead of leaving it all up to chance.
he cupped your face, "i could hurt you."
you shrugged a little, "i'd rather you hurt me then some other man."
he brushed his thumb across your cheek, "well. then i guess i have to be on good behaviour then." then leaned in to kiss you on your forehead, "but i'll need to cover you with my scent."
you were soon stripped, you realized that simon has no sense of modesty. eventually you were tossed on the bed like you were a bag of potatoes. and simon pressed his weight onto you.
you pressed under a man who could easily snap your bones. but instead, you were doing weird beast-esque skin to skin contact. he rubbed up against you.
"mister simon." you squeaked.
"it's just simon."
"are you sure i can't just wear some of your clothes." they would fit.
"nah. gotta get it right into the skin." he said gruffly as he continued to snuggle against you. you didn't know what scent he was putting on you. all you smelt was old spice and aftershave.
usually for simon, he would've been pent up by now. the day was slowly waning. but he found himself getting tired. the usually sharp werewolf was turning into a metaphorical mush. it was like he felt safe in your arms.
the comfort of simon's bed plus your time hiking left you feeling drowsy too. it wasn't long before you both fell asleep. you didn't even feel the man turn into a wolf.
you simply turned to your side and get comfy against the thick hair that covered you. it was like sleeping under one of those expensive shag rugs that rich people had.
that paired with the weighed allowed you to sleep soundly as the full moon passed the sky. you were a relaxing force to this werewolf and you didn't even know it.
the next morning, johnny came by to pick you up but instead found you under the enormous weight of one simon riley. he was soundly snoring and the ranger just chuckled to himself.
"i'll come back later so you don't ma head off."
(this could be expanded on later. i'm calling it the 'howlin' for you' au aka the werewolf au)
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madaqueue · 1 day
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love languages
choso kamo: words of affirmation
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a/n: once again a cute little (slightly more nsfw) drabble abt my sweet bby choso <3 i love writing these teehee this has me giggling n kicking my feet
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at first choso thought he just loved your voice, the way you pulled out your vowels, the softness that curled between the letters. he held onto every word you said, enamored by each syllable that left your lips.
but one day, when he was going down on you, something changed.
you had one hand in his hair, pulling gently on the black locks, as his tongue rolled around your wet clit.
“f-fuck, right there, cho,” you moaned, the nickname alone making him hard as he thrust his face further into you. “s’good, you’re doing so good,” the words leaving your mouth as your grip on his hair tightened.
suddenly, choso paused, his breath caught in his throat. he felt dizzy - maybe it was you pulling his hair? your throbbing cunt against his tongue? or was it your words?
“you okay?” the worry in your voice pulling him out of his thoughts.
“mhm,” he hummed against the skin between your legs. “can you…can you say that again?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes slowly moving up to meet yours.
“what, baby? that you’re doing so good?” you questioned, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes.
god, everything you said you drove him crazy. he could feel his cock twitch against the bed as he was drawn back to your slick pussy, replaying what you said in his mind. “mhm, that,” he moaned, sticking his tongue out to slowly lick up your folds.
if he had looked up, he’d be able to see you grinning ear to ear at his request. it was rare that he’d ask for anything in bed, saying he was ‘just there to make you happy’. you expected his first request to be something much more lewd, yet this one was so sweet.
“cho, fuck, s’good, you’re s’pretty between my legs,” you whined through a lopsided smile. almost immediately you could feel him moan against you - clearly your words were doing something to him, too.
as his pace picked up you felt yourself getting closer, tension pooling in your stomach. “right there, your tongue feels so good, fuck” you sighed, arching your back slightly off the bed.
his hands tightened around your thighs, his mouth pressing into you harder, licking roughly over you. another low groan escapes his lips as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge of ecstasy. you babbled praises through moans of his name as your hands raked through his hair, grinding your hips against his face as you rode the bliss of your orgasm.
when the high finally lulls, you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at your boyfriend, a lazy grin plastered on his face surrounded by the slick of your cum. he places a kiss against your thigh, another soft whine leaving your throat at the feeling.
“d’you really mean that?” he asks, eyes low as he looks up at you.
“mean what?” you ask, voice still slightly uneven as you reel from the pleasure he just brought you.
“all the things you just said,” he explains.
“of course i did, cho,” you smile, loosening your fist in his hair to ruffle it slightly. “you’re amazing at this, at everything. i could write a book with all my praise for you and i’d still run out of room.”
his smile widens as he leans up over your body to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. as his cock rubs against you, he hisses slightly.
“you alright?” you pull away from him, tilting your head slightly.
he suddenly blushes, looking away from you as his body hovers over yours. “i, um, might’ve…” he trails off.
understanding flashes across your face. “cho, did you cum?” you ask, a smile forming across your lips.
still not able to meet your eyes, he nods, face red.
you place a gentle kiss to his cheek. “look at me,” you state softly. his eyes slowly meet yours, shame still evident on his face. “you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, i think it’s sweet,” you say through a smile.
he hesitantly nods before burying his face in your neck.
since then, you’ve been more proactive about telling him everything you love about him, knowing how shy and worked up he gets about it. you’ll find him during a party, standing in the corner with a drink in his hand, and start whispering into his ear how much you love his hair, how he smells, how nice he looks in that shirt, how good his cock makes you feel.
it usually doesn’t take long before he grabs your hand and pulls you out of whatever venue you’re in, looking down to hide how red his cheeks are and how hard he is as he drags you to the car. the two of you usually don’t even make it home before he’s on you in the backseat, making you moan those sweet words to him as he fucks you.
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nattblacklupin · 1 day
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Sleepless nights
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Pairing: High lord! Eris x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a little bit suggestive towards the end
Summary: High lord of the autumn court helps you sleep
Masterlist
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After the war, nightmares plagued your sleep every night. You can't remember the last time you slept the whole night, always waking up because of the terrors that followed you every time you dared to close your eyes. No sleep tonic is helping you. Not even your high lord powers could protect you. Leaving you desperate and hopeless for anything that can help you.
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Madja recommended taking your mind off by busying yourself with work, so you don't have the time to think about anything else. That's why you're currently sitting on bed in autumn court, your room not far away from the high lords. As an administrative of night court, you travelled there to strengthen the relationship between the two courts. The sudden death of Beron forced Eris to take his place sooner than expected. Lucily, it wasn't drastic for the plans of your court.
It's not like you cared about them that much, but you sweared to be loyal, and you will be loyal to your court till the day of your death.
After half an hour of restless tossing, you decided to go on a walk around the house. Not expecting to meet someone at such an hour, you threw a light silk robe over your shoulders. Quietly slipping away from your room, you mindlessly started walking - letting your body guide you away from the room.
"Still awake, princess?" You swiftly turned started that someone was awake now. Focusing on the person your shoulders visibly releaxed and you let out signt you didn't even know you were holding in. "You scared me, Eris," coming closer to him, you couldn't help but admire his beauty. He had a strong and sharp jaw, which made you wonder if it would cut you when caressing it. His eyes burned with fire that burned brightly even after surviving things that you could never imagine. "I'm sorry if I woke you up." He probably was tired after a long day of duties, and you woke him up. Feeling guilty you averted your eyes from him.
"It's quite alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway," daring to look into his eyes to examine him even further. You could see the dark purple circles under his eyes. "You're not the only one who struggles, don't worry," his hand fixed stray strand of your hair that escaped the braid you put it in. It felt so natural, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch, never feeling more comfortable than right now. "You can sleep in my bed if you would like to." Pointing with his chin in the direction of his bedroom.
You wanted to refuse him. Sleeping with him in the same bed was highly inappropriate. This is still a work trip, and you don't think Rhysand would be happy if he knew about it. But Eris warm was attracting you like moth to light, it wrapped around you in cosy warm cocoon. "Only if you don't mind my snoring," Eris laughed at your joke. "I won't mind your snoring, only if you don't mind me stealing your blanket." Opening door to his room and guiding you inside with his hand on your lower back.
You quickly lay in his bed with blanket to your chin, hoping that the dark will shield your reddened cheeks from his burning gaze. Having a crush on the male for years now didn't help your situation in a bit. Your cheeks are getting red the longer you are in his room, in his bed thinking about his strong frame that will lay next to you. What if he wraps his arms around you? What if he's feeling the same as you, and this is his flirting strategy?
Eris laid next to you, laying on his side facing you, looking deeply into your eyes. "You're beautiful." If you weren't focused just on him, you wouldn't probably even hear it. But you're glad you did, finally mustering enough courage to do the thing you been thinking of for such a long time now. You gently cupped his cheek in your hand, looking deeply in his eyes. You kissed him. Your chest explodes with feeling you never felt before making you feel everything yet nothing at the same time.
"Took you long enough, princess"
Unhurriedly parting your lips from him, you gasped for air. "Y-you're my mate," realisation making you push Eris on his back and straddle his lap. His hands took hold of your waist, caressing you softly. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. Kissing you with more intensity than you ever been kissed before.
Eris kissed you like there is no tomorrow, not letting you go until you were gasping for air, wishing for more. You parted from him, looking deeply into his eyes. The high lord under you just smirked while playing with your hair.
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ash5monster01 · 1 day
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Turnstiles
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Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.
Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.
word count: 2.6k
Three ←→ Five
Masterlist
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Summer 1988
We hide our hearts from harder times
There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.
“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.
“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.
“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.
“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.
“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.
“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.
“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.
“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.
“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.
“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.
“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.
“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.
“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.
“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.
“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.
“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.
It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.
“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.
It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.
“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.
“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.
“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.
“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.
“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.
His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.
“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.
“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.
“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.
“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.
“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.
“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.
“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.
“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.
This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.
“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.
“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.
“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.
“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.
“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.
“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.
“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.
Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.
“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.
“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.
“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.
“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.
“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.
“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.
“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”
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Text
JJK FF/ ROYAL GUARD
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CHAPTER ELEVEN | SERIES
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 
Word count: 3k
Rating: 18+ smut
Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, dirty talk, crying, tears of happiness, lap straddling, a lot of pussy fingering, biting, nipple play, Jungkook groans a lot, full nakedness, big dick!jk, a little bit of rough French, neck kissing, hard orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys :D) - she probably pregnant by the time he is done with her - upss - also mentions of marriage, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. A lot of swearing, cursing and a little bit of crying. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!
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Still waiting in Jungkook’s chambers, you nervously fidgeted, your fingers picking up stray pieces of your dress whenever your leg bounced up and down, unable to calm yourself.
This couldn’t keep happening!
Everytime you think about what happened in the forest, it makes you tremble with fear. Your palms feel sweaty and your heart is beating loudly.
What if something happened to him?!
What if they caught him?! If anything were to happen to him...
You shook your head violently.
Stop thinking like this!
Taking a deep breath, you sat straight in the chair, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your lap, trying your best to control your breathing.
Just then, the door opened revealing a servant, the lovely octopus Moe, bringing in another tray of food.
“My lady, you need to eat something. You can’t go on like this,” he said softly, afraid that he overstepped his boundaries,” The king will be back soon, don’t worry.”
You smiled at him, “ Thanks but I’m not hungry,” trying to convince him otherwise, your stomach decided to complain with a grumbling sound loud enough for him to hear and you blush with embarrassment, not believing yourself for making those kind of sounds.
He tries to hide his surprise with a polite bow and leaves the room when he finishes setting up your late dinner since it was really late, the darkness outside having already started to cover the entire castle.
A couple minutes pass by when suddenly, the door opens with a bang which caused you to jump in your seat. A familiar man enters the room.
His whole armor was covered in blood, his wings torn in some places with dried blood on them. The sight makes you gasp when he steps into the room, the door closing behind him with a bang in the same way how it was opened.
Throwing the sword on the carpet, he doesn’t even notice you sitting there by the window when he removes his face mask, revealing his beautiful face full of bruises and wounds, the right eye already forming a blue bruise on his left cheek.
A sob escapes your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you stand from your seat and hurry to him.
Grabbing his wrist, you run your fingers lightly along the purple mark that now appeared on his skin.
“Why are you here so late? Did you get attacked? Who did that?!” You asked frantically, not knowing how he even got injured like this.
Do magic beings even heal faster like from the myths?
Jungkook looks at you in surprise for a second before his expression melts into concern when he notices your teary eyes.
“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He says reassuringly.
Relieved, you put both of your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, not caring whether or not you dirty your dress with his blood.
“I need to shower . You know I can’t stay with you smelling like blood,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head.
You nod, tightening your hold on him.
“Okay. But make sure to be careful. You can slip in there if it’s too slippery,” you warn him seriously and your words makes him smile at you, looking at you like you’re some wonder of the world.
“I will be extra careful and If I slip, I will call you,” he smirks with a teasing note in his promise to which you laugh and hit him gently.
“Stop making fun of me. I was worried about you when you went to fight vampires again. I thought that I will never see you again,” You said truthfully.
The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in response, showing that he understood your meaning.
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” He says, caressing your cheeks with the tips of his fingers.
Then without saying another word, he walks to the wardrobe and takes out his clothes before leaving again.
Since he went to shower, you decided to clean yourself too since your dress had bloodstains. Taking the change of clothes, you went to the other bathroom , washing yourself as fast as possible.
Once you were done, you quickly dressed in your nightgown and walked to the bed where you lay down, staring into space, your thoughts still filled with worry.
The image of him fighting in the battlefield flashed through your mind again making you shiver uncontrollably. Why did you insist on going outside the castle if there’s danger?
With a tired sigh, you feel hot inside. Fanning yourself, you go to the big window with the balcony doors and open them wide, letting the fresh air enter the room, allowing your mind to be free of any doubts.
Trying to relax, you closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. The last thing you wanted was to dwell on what happened earlier in the day.
After a while, you hear the bathroom door open and close softly. Not opening your eyes, your heart rate started to rise when you heard his footsteps approaching you.
He moved like a silent panther with soundless steps as it wasn’t him moving at all.
Feeling him behind you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to nuzzle your neck.
“I missed you, princess,” he purrs, nuzzling your neck affectionately, pressing kisses against the spot between your shoulder and neck.
You hum softly in return, letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning into his embrace, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his cologne and fresh scent enveloping you.
“I heard that you were a bad girl for me while I was away,” he murmurs, nosing the shell of your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His breath sends chills down your spine but he didn’t seem to mind at all as his lips brushed against your earlobe gently.
"It's my duty as your future husband and your king to punish my princess whenever she does something wrong," he adds huskily.
You feel confused,” What are you talking about?”
You feel him smiling against your neck,” You didn’t eat anything , so your body needs time to recuperate. I ordered Moe to bring you some food and a glass of wine and you haven't touched it,” he explains softly, rubbing circles on your back with one hand, the other hand resting gently on your hip.
You flush in embarrassment as you realize that he caught you. "I'm sorry."
"Don’t apologise. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone while you’re away,” he replies, his thumb brushing across the curve of your waist.
Your eyes widen as you turn around in his arms, your face only inches from his.
His eyes are blazing when he looks at you and the longer he holds eye contact, the faster you let your own drop down at your feet, too shy to see his intense stare directed at you.
“Now,now. Don’t be shy now, darling. I don’t bite,” he coos softly.
There is irony in those words because you both know that you have been bitten by him before so this sentence was necessary.
When you look up again, you lock your gaze on his black eyes, seeing his pupils dilate and his eyebrows drawn together with a sexy smirk on his lips.
Suddenly, his hands are grabbing yours, pulling you closer, his hot breathe tickling your face, forcing you to tilt your head upwards so he could kiss you more deeply.
Your hands automatically move up to his hair, holding onto him securely as he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping past your parted lips and exploring the inside of your mouth.
Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, still not breaking your stare.
“Are you still sore?” he mumbles quietly and you shake your head, trying not to giggle at his question, you were more than eager to feel him in you again.
Your hands roam through the soft locks of hair on the back of his head, slowly pulling him down until he connects his lips with yours again, kissing you passionately, his tongue invading your senses. His hands roam the rest of your body, leaving heated trails everywhere they touch.
His lips trail down to your jawline, grazing his tongue over it teasingly before biting the delicate flesh there. Making you moan in pleasure, you grab handfuls of his hair, tugging playfully.
His mouth moves from your jaw to your collarbone, sucking hard as he bites your skin once again, licking the area tenderly before moving his mouth further, finding the perfect place to leave a wet hickey under your collarbone.
Panting, he lifts himself from your body, giving you no choice but to open your eyes to look at his beautiful face as your eyes traveled down to his bare chest.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers with a sad little smile as he looks straight into your eyes.
Your heart clenches painfully as you take in his state.
“What do you mean?” You ask confused.
He shakes his head,” I have blood on my hands and you still let me touch you. If I wouldn’t be the king or your guardian angel, we would never be this close. You would never have been mine in the first place,” He says brokenly.
Your eyes welled up with tears at his confession as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You knew how he feels towards you and it kills you to see him like this because you love him.
Tears roll down from your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes locked with his.
“But you are my king, my guardian angel, my guard, my everything. And as long as I have you, nothing else matters. That includes blood and death and being forced to watch you kill anybody who threatens us or our family. We need to protect them and knowing that you try to protect me despite facing danger, that’s enough reason to marry you,” you confess with a small sob, burying your face into his neck.
He lets out a chuckle in disbelief, pulling you even closer to him.
“I’m glad you see it that way because I can’t wait to make you mine and you to finally be mine forever,” he replies happily as he pulls your face back to look at him.
Lifting a finger to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks with such tender care, you smile at him.
“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect man to be my husband,” you say lovingly.
Jungkook’s expression from warm to serious,” You make me do things to you if you keep saying these kind of sweet words , Y/N. How am I supposed to resist you now?”
You laugh at that and lean forward to press your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.
Before you can stop him, his hands lift you by the waist and he carries you onto the mattress, settling you in his lap, one of his hands traveling down to your leg while the other is holding you firmly around your waist.
Your eyes open wide in surprise at the sudden move and you feel him grinning at you wickedly before placing his lips against your neck again.
Your legs automatically wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him closer to you.
Your eyes fall shut tightly, overwhelmed by his loving touches and his soft kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.
“My queen, look at me,” he says quietly as he kisses your neck again.
Slowly opening your eyes, you find him gazing right at you with love filled eyes,” Look at me when I speak to you. You belong only to me and nobody else. Only me,” he declares.
Tears form in your eyes as you blink at him, feeling overwhelmed by his passionate declaration. You nod silently with tears filling your eyes.
His lips brush against your cheek softly as he brushes his thumbs on your tears, “I’ll shower you with affection everyday if it means that you don’t cry anymore.”
You let out a small laugh,” It’s tears of joy that will make me cry. I won’t stop crying. Because I’ve already cried enough times tonight alone,” you tease him slightly.
“No. No more tears. Not after tonight. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he states, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Leaning down, your gown’s right strap falls of your shoulder to reveal your pale flesh and even further when your breast is revealed completely. Your blush darkens and you bury your face in his neck.
His sharp breath makes you moan when he gets a clear sight of your bare nipple. Kissing your neck, his tongue hits your sensitive spot as he sucks your hardened tip lightly, making your knees weak and hands clutching on his hair.
You whimper softly, letting out small noises of pleasure as his lips travel lower down your body.
‘God, what is he doing?’ you think to yourself, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second.
Before you can question him, he slides your gown up your thighs till your bare pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.
“Jungkook-!” you exclaim breathlessly, your whole body tensing up with nerves and anticipation, anticipating his next move.
“Shhh, don’t talk. I haven't stopped looking at you,” he murmurs huskily before lowering his face towards you.
Kissing you on the lips, he traces a path with his finger to your entrance. You let out a gasp and he immediately takes control, thrusting in two fingers. The burning sensation shoots straight to your clit making you arch your body upward, making him groan loudly against your ear.
“Breathe. Just breathe for me baby girl,” he breathes out harshly as he continues to finger fuck you slowly but steadily.
You can’t help but to whimper as his fingers are moving slowly inside of you, driving you crazy.
His tongue then slips inside your mouth, his fingers still moving inside you, causing you to let out another low moan as his mouth covers yours aggressively, thrusting inside of you relentlessly.
Bucking your hips against his lap, you felt his erection pulsing under your ass beneath that towel. Since he was in the shower, he didn’t put on any clothes on.
Moaning from the pleasure, you could only hold on, almost to the point of pain, not knowing how long will you last.
“Jungkook, Oh, Jungkook,” you pant against his lips and then your guard lost it, seeing you so close to orgasm.
Ripping the towel off his body, there was a second of silence, only your harsh breathing was heard in the room when he
enters you roughly. Your eyes flutter closed in shock before opening back up when you realize how deep he was.
The sound of air hitting your ears was the only thing you could hear as he began thrusting slowly into you, stretching you in all ways possible. The feeling of his thick muscles squeezing around your insides sent waves of arousal shooting through you and soon you were moaning into his lips as his thrusts became harder and harder.
You were coming apart at his touch. Your toes curled in pleasure as your body shook in his hold, your nails digging in to his shoulders as you came undone.
Jungkook moans loudly as he watched you come undone in front of him. His own orgasm was approaching quickly too.
Enveloping you with his wings, you see only darkness with his eyes glowing white,” Oh, my God! Oh, god, oh, god..! Yes! Fuck!” You scream out loud, feeling his hard cock hit the spot in you where you needed him most. As you start to tremble with pleasure once again, your eyes widen realizing that you couldn’t take a break,” Oh, yes, yes…” you don’t know how you even lived without this feeling before but you can’t stop thinking about him being here, now, with you, giving you pleasure like nothing you had ever experienced before.
Jungkook was beyond thrilled at the sight of you. Every time you came undone at him it was the best feeling in the world.
Taking your throat, he hits the spot deeper when your eyes roll back and you almost pass out.
“Fuck!” He growls, not even stopping when he finds his own realise.
There’s so much seed that you feel it spilling on both of you which causes your vision to blur for a moment. A small gasp escapes your throat as you come undone yet again, making you moan in pleasure.
After you finally finish your climax and your walls start feel sore, you slowly sit up on his lap, your hand on his chest.
Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze so hazy with lust and love, it’s almost scary to see him looking at you like that.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.
“I will arrange a priest to come to the castle tomorrow,” he murmurs against your ear.
“For what?” you ask, not understanding his purpose.
“To marry you, of course. I want you to be mine forever,” he answers and his voice sounds rough and strained, like he has been running for miles.
From his words, your walls clench around his cock and he groans, burying his head in your neck,” You like that, baby? Knowing that you will be my wife,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.
Licking your wet skin, he lets his teeth nip softly at your exposed shoulder and you let out a soft moan as goosebumps cover your entire body.
“Yes.” You whisper in return, tightening your grip on his muscular shoulders and pressing yourself to him,” I would like that very much.”
“Then it's settled. We shall get married as soon as possible,” he mutters into your ear.
You smile happily before leaning closer and placing a quick kiss on his jaw,” Okay, husband.” But not before you bumped your nose against his.
Your guardian angel only smirked," We really need to stop bumping into each other."
Be continued…
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p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners
DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY
If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)
🅒 All rights reserved
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2af-afterdark · 1 day
Note
Bael, who loves it when you sit on his lap when he’s swamped with Bell’s receipts, Bills, and other paperwork, promising he’s almost done, until he’s dragged to a bed to sleep while he’s being cuddled nonetheless
Gamigin, who’s innocence is adorable, he probably knows what sex is, but doesn’t know much about it, he’d rather enjoy having a picnic with Lucifer and Jjok with you
Lucifer, who does his best to ignore the voices when he’s with you, he may be skeptical, but how can he not when he’s unsure of his new land, but one things for sure, he’ll happily have tea with you
Leviathan, who glares at everyone and everything, he tolerates you on a good day, although his disdaining glare, he’ll still obligate to some of your needs
Marbas, despite being tied and able to escape the restraints, who makes sure you’re healed if the angels decide to attack, and takes you back to Paradise lost to keep you safe
Bimet, who’s interested in coin collectors, immediately calculated the value of the said collection, and may even give tips on how to find even rarer coins, and no, he’s not giving any of his away, he’s been at his collection for a millennia and maybe more
Satan, who’s possessiveness knows no bond, who will kick anyone away to keep you to himself, he’ll toss you over his shoulder and take you to his place, he may not be like Mammon and have every single thing but he does his damned best to keep you safe and happy
Mammon, who owns the world and more, has no greater prized treasure than you, he has a special room just right for you, and it has everything you could ever need, he even makes sure to hire you your own personal chefs, that do their best to recreate human food recipes (with gold flakes on top)
🦩
Talking these. Running away with them. They are being used as a pillow for my own personal comfort.
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avensthetic · 4 hours
Text
𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 (40mp, deco*27)
to you who sobbed as you looked at me who was troubled yet smiling, i say: "welcome home!" because yesterday and tomorrow as well, there is a place here for you to come and say "i've come home!" tw: brief mentions of abuse, slavery, blood, and a pet name. nothing graphic.
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𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚
━━ ╸i almost left. almost did plenty of times if i’m honest. it's stupid, i know. running's always been my solution, my way of gambling with the inevitable disaster that follows me around. i’m selfish aren’t i? i didn’t even think how destroyed you would be. but i thought it was better than dragging you down with me.
i’m a fool. me, a man who's gambled everything and walked away from worse, nearly bailing on the one good thing i've got in my damn life. i know i don't deserve you. every day i wake up expecting my luck to run out, expecting it all to go up in flames, you getting sick of me and leaving.
but everytime i come home, sometimes late, sometimes smelling like the deals i had to make, blood and all that, and you're there, waiting patiently, eyes lighting up in relief and delight seeing me unharmed. you smile, and that simple "welcome home" ... damn, doll, it's like finding an oasis in my damn desert of a life.
i’ll be here…if you’ll still have me.
love, kakavasha
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deep down, aventurine was still the terrified boy sold at the slave market, his worth measured in a handful of copper coins. all the credits in the world, all the influence he'd acquired, couldn't erase that brand imprinted on his soul.
his gaze drifted to you, sleeping soundly. a pang of guilt and love twisted in his gut. you were the one good thing in his life, a beacon of warmth contrasting the memory of the cold shackles that once coiled around his neck and wrists. the way you smiled at him, the unconditional acceptance in your eyes... it was everything he'd ever longed for, and yet, it felt unbearably fragile.
aventurine always believed he didn't deserve this happiness, this soft illusion of home that your presence created. his hands, stained with blood from past betrayals and gambles gone wrong, felt contaminated. every day with you was a borrowed luxury, a ticking clock until his rotten luck inevitably turned, and he destroyed this haven as he'd destroyed everything else he touched.
a bitter laugh threatened to escape his lips. ending it... maybe that was the kindest thing he could do. spare you the pain of his inevitable downfall, let you find someone worthy, someone who wasn't cursed like him.
he tiptoed closer, unable to resist tracing a finger along your cheek. aventurine had already been through a lot—beaten, starved, used. but the thought of never feeling your touch again, never hearing your voice, was the one pain he wasn’t sure he could handle.
you stirred slightly, mumbling a soft greeting even in sleep, “kakavasha? welcome home.” his heart constricted. that simple welcome, offered so freely, had been his lifeline through countless dark nights.
your promise echoed, “when you say i’m back, i will always be there to greet you with a welcome home.” who was he kidding? he can fool others, but not himself. and aventurine finds himself holding onto your hand tightly rather than let go.
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
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deadsetobsessions · 1 hour
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Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:
——
They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.
‘How has everything been, habibi?’
They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.
‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’
She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’
Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?
The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.
‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.
‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’
Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.
‘Why would the magician hide there?’
‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’
“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.
“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.
“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.
“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.
She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.
“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”
“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.
“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.
Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.
——
“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.
‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.
“What about you?”
‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.
Behind her mask, she smiled.
——
“Who was that, Robin?”
Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.
“She... protected me.”
Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.
“That’s it?”
“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.
A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.
And so the wheels turned.
——
“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”
Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.
There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.
She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.
“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.
Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.
"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.
"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."
"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."
She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.
No, she will bide her time.
She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.
And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.
——
"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"
Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?
"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"
Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.
"For your safety!"
Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."
"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"
Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."
Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.
"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."
Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.
"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."
"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."
"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.
——
Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.
The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.
The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.
She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.
"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”
It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.
His first mistake today.
That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.
His second mistake. His last mistake.
Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.
After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.
"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.
"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.
To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.
He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.
Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.
"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."
She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.
Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"
She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.
The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.
Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.
——
It felt like drowning.
(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)
Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.
The Pit felt like freedom.
And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.
It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-
Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.
——
“Habibi.”
Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.
“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.
“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.
“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.
“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”
“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.
“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.
“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”
“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.
“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”
“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”
“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”
“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.
“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”
And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.
——
Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.
She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.
She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.
“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.
“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”
Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”
She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”
She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.
“I am sorry, habibi. I…”
The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.
——
Damian trembled with rage. With grief.
With regret.
He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.
He thought it was passion.
His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.
“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”
“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.
“Yes.”
Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.
Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.
When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.
Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.
His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.
But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.
So he stayed still.
And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.
“Damian?”
How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.
As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.
——
Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.
“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.
“Ahem.”
Jason quickly put his feet down.
“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”
“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.
“And what if they keep Damian captive?”
“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.
Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.
Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.
“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.
“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”
Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.
Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.
——
Clarity.
Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.
She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.
“Ukhti, what are you doing?”
“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”
At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.
Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!
Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.
The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.
——
“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”
“You fucked Talia, twice?!”
A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”
Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.
——
Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.
There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.
Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.
But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.
Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.
Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.
“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.
But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.
Her hands came up.
‘Not yet. Mother will think-”
“It is a good idea.”
Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.
“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”
Well.
It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…
‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’
“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”
Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.
——
“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”
“She asked me not to.”
“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”
Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.
“Since it was ukhti that asked.”
Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”
Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.
“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.
“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”
“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”
Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.
“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”
Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.
Now he knew.
“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”
Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.
“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.
Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.
Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.
“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.
“She was ordered not to speak a word.”
“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.
“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.
“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.
“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”
“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”
“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”
Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!
“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”
Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.
“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”
“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”
Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.
“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”
“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.
“Two weeks.”
“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”
——
She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.
“Ukht.”
She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.
“I am sorry.”
‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’
“But-”
She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have noticed.”
‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’
“No, I suppose not.”
She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.
——
The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.
The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*
The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”
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Text
Hello there!
I’m here cause I’ve just woken up and I need to talk to y’all about the dream I’ve had about the series finale.
On Tuesday (before ep 14 aired) I dreamed that everyone died on Tantiss and I was a mess (the Kiner’s cryptic tweet messed with my psyche).
Some things are slipping away from me, but I swear it was SO GOOD.
.
The dream starts with CX-2. He is at Tantiss and there is a clone rebellion going on. I don’t know if Rex got there with some of the boys, but the place is a mess.
He realises that there is something he needs to do, so he grabs Scorch and Wolffe and takes them to the top of the mountain.
There, he is having an identity crisis and he is trying to explain to them that they are working with the bad guys. Wolffe and Scorch don’t understand so CX-2 removes his helmet…
It’s Tech.
At that moment, in the middle of a panic attack, Omega and Hunter reach the top and they see him. I don’t know why, but I think that’s the only way they can escape Tantiss.
Omega starts crying and Hunter is frozen.
No one moves.
Wrecker arrives.
Then Echo.
And finally Cross.
No one moves.
When Cross sees him he starts crying, apologising. If he had known that Tech had been on Tantiss all this time, he would have never left him behind.
Everyone is too shocked to do something, but at that moment Hemlock (I don’t know how but he is on an Imperial Cruiser, same as Rampart in season 1) starts bombarding Tantiss.
Hunter reacts first. He can feel it coming. He grabs Omega and Tech and hugs them.
Wrecker moves next. He embraces the three of them.
Echo gets to them as well. Then Cross.
They all hug while Tantiss shakes, explosions all around them…
And I “wake up”.
(I know this may seem like an awful ending… but wait because there is more. I’m still dreaming, though at the moment I thought that I wasn’t.)
I “wake up” and I’m extremely happy because I realise 3 things:
1. We were not Delulu. Tech’s alive and we got him back.
2. The episode was 89 minutes long.
3. That can’t possibly be the ending. That’s a cliffhanger and they are about to announce season 4.
I get up, prepare breakfast and my sister comes home. I start crying and telling her about the finale (she is not a star wars fan, hasn’t even watched the movies, but I’m a mess and I need to tell her how the season ended).
She starts recording me while I sob and talk about the season finale and I think: this is nice cause then I can post my reaction online so that I interact with all of you, cause it’s impossible that I’m the only one having meltdown.
That’s when I wake up, for real.
And I realise that:
It’s Friday.
The episode hasn’t aired.
My sister hasn’t recorded me.
And Tech’s gone.
(I won’t give up on him. There is one more episode to go).
I needed to write this down as soon as I woke up cause I was going to forget everything.
I hope that at least I entertained you.
4 days and 20 hours to go.
LET’S GO.
(That group hug cleansed my soul. I swear. You had to be there 😂😂😂😂).
Love y’all. Interacting with you is the best part of this journey. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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glorious-imagines · 2 days
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Don't Wanna Be Torn
1 2 3 4
Jason lay on his bed, staring at his stained ceiling as he tossed a stress ball. He hadn't gone to see Isabel or the twins. Not yet. Not when he had Gabby's words swirling in his head like a maelstrom. Not when he had to make another choice that would shake his foundations. In hindsight, he should've thought about the first foundation-shaking choice more deeply. He probably would've been able to still be happy with Y/n.
Y/n... Not a day had gone by that she wasn't on his mind. The true object of his affection. He missed the catch, and the plushy ball landed on his face with a soft thunk. A light huff escaped his nostrils, and he just laid there, eyes closed. Basking in the silence. Images of Y/n flashed in his mind. His heart is aching for her. 
When the image of her laughing with Conner shot forth, his lids opened abruptly. Of course. Even in his own mind, there is no peace. He should be used to that by now. His mind has never been a place of comfort. Y/n probably wouldn't be happy if he came running back to her. Uprooting the work she's taken to heal her hurt. He wouldn't forgive himself, either.
He sat up, the stress ball rolling down his face as he did so. He stared at it for a moment. It was a stupid gift from Roy. He'd gotten it at the at the last minute for one of his birthdays. Jason hardly celebrates such a day. But this stupid two-dollar toy from a nearby gift store was all that remained. He didn't fully understand why, but he cherished the ball. When Roy gave it to him, he said, don't forget to think about you. Jason had since taken it everywhere.
He stuffed it in his pocket with a centering huff. "Time to face the music." He wasn't at all enthusiastic about what he was going to do. But almost thirty minutes later, he was outside Isabel's hospital room.
He takes a breath. And another. The haze in his mind cleared, but his heart seemed to constrict. His hands were getting clammy as he reached to open the door. He swallowed when he saw Isabel sitting between the twins incubators.
Isabel's face lights up when she notices him. "Jay! Hi, I didn't think you were coming."
He grabbed the nearest chair and dragged it to the foot of her bed. "Hey, Isabel. How are you? You feeling okay after everything?"
"Yeah, it was a surprise, but myself and our babies are fine." She took a sip of the little orange juice cup.
He nods with a barely noticeable, somber smile on his face. "Good, I'm glad." 
Silence quickly invades the room. It steals the air of normalcy and creates a smog of tension. Isabel's eyes seem to be trained on her juice cup. Jason's were fixed on her. 
And they stay like that for what feels like hours to Isabel. She huffs in annoyance and looks back at him. Her face is scrounged in an awkward mix of apprehension and annoyance. "She told you, right? Gabby? About that guy?"
Jason snorts and grabs one of her juice cups, poking a straw into the top before taking a drink. Isabel watches with a growing pit in her stomach. 
"I don't wanna cause you too much stress, so I'll get to the point." He started when she finished the small drink and placed it back on the table. "I know they're not mine."
"Jaso--"
"I think you've said more than enough these past months. It is absolutely shit that you derailed the trajectory of my life to make me play father to someone else's kids.
"Jason, please--"
"Not done." He levels his oceanic blues into her, through her. "I was prepared to marry her. She was it for me. And you stole that life from me." 
To her, he is scarily calm. He should be yelling. Yelling would be less stressful. Even if it woke the twins, she would prefer his anger to... whatever the hell he was giving her. If the twins suddenly woke, they would have no choice but to end this conversation.
"I will never forgive you for that. It hurt me, but more importantly, it hurt Y/n. And she deserves so much more." He could feel the heat of his pain welling up. He took a deep breath. "I'm not upset about that guy. I never said we were official. From the start, I was only here for the twins. I would've helped, Isabel. You were my friend. I would've helped if you asked."
"Were?" She involuntarily questions.
"After all this, there's no way we can maintain the relationship we once had."
The tears pooling in her sapphires spilled over. "Jason, please, I'm sorry."
He stands and stretches. "M'gonna call in some favors. Get you set for when you leave."
"Jason..."
"If you need anything for the twins, and I doubt you will, you have my number. But only for the twins. I won't respond to anything else, and if you try to trick me, I'll cut you off completely." He opens the door and says, "Goodbye, Isabel."
...
At the gala, Conner let Y/n know what he'd said to Jason. He described it as childish and stupid, and he was very sorry. And he dropped to his knees and begged her not to ghost him or something.
It was super embarrassing, but also incredibly hilarious. Such a huge guy was on his knees, begging for forgiveness, and putting on such a show. She laughed, genuinely and heartily as she pulled him up. She gave him another shot, but he had to work double time if he wanted her to be with him. He was more than happy to agree, of course.
From then on, he'd been attached at the hip to her. She didn't mind; she liked having him work so hard for her. She wished Jason had done the same. They wouldn't be in the mess they currently find themselves.
Not that she actually knew what he was going through. She just knew that chick would be a hand full. If she wasn't pregnant, she'd have hit her. And she definitely would've deserved it.
Thinking about her made Y/n's blood boil. So she stopped. And maybe that's what she's needed all along. To just stop. Though her heart aches for Jason, his sense of responsibility takes him elsewhere. And even if he were to come back...
The thought of leaving Conner pulled her full lips down and made her stomach swirl in the worst way. He felt comforting and warm. A feeling that wasn't new to her but was severely missed. Like he was hot tea on a bitterly cold night.
"Y/n?"
She looked up from idly circling her martini glass rim. "Hm?"
"You okay? Seem a bit lost."
"Just a bit of thinking."
"Not about boys. Pleeaase not about boys," Shana whined childishly.
Y/n puckered her lips, her head turning up a bit and away, her eyes going back to her friend like a puppy that made a mess of the trash. Shana chuckled and elbowed her lightly. "Because of course you are," she said, rolling her eyes. "So, what's the problem this time?"
Y/n shrugs, taking a sip of her martini. "There isn't one. I think I'm finally moving on from Jason."
Shana's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and her lips pursed. "Yeah, alright."
"I'm serious. No gotcha's. But listen, I have a question."
"Shoot."
"What would you say if I said I was thinking about moving to Metropolis?"
Shana's eyes go wide, completely confounded, as she stares into Y/n's soul. "Perdeste a cabeça?! You didn't even move on Jason this fast! Did that super freak brainwash you?" Shana snatches her head up and examines it with her magic.
Y/n shoves her off. "Shana, girl, I love you, but if you ever put your hands on me like that again, I'ma forget you my best friend." 
Shana is still looking at her as if she's hiding something, to which Y/n rolls her eyes. "I'm not going for Conner, fucking duh."
"Then why?"
"I may or may not have been aiming for a spot on the Justice League for the past few years."
Shana freezes for a moment, scrutinizing her for a moment. After a minute, she snorts and then bursts into laughter. "You're kidding, right?"
Y/n's lip quirks up in a frown, and she plucks her on the forehead. "Here I was talking about something other than the men in my life, and here you are being an ass."
"Ow, okay," Shana says, rubbing the spot where she plucked. "Sorry, geez."
"Anyway, Superman and a few others wanna hold interviews, and they want me to do some kinda trial run in Metropolis."
"Why? You're great at what you do."
"Yes, but am I JL great? That's what they wanna find out. Besides, I never planned on staying in Gotham for so long. I think my true calling is Manhattan, anyway."
"Why am I just finding out about this anyway?
"Because you have close relations with the Batfamily."
"Batfamily? What the fuck? Where did that BS name come from?"
It was Y/n's turn to scrutinize Shana. "Batfamily? You not bouta tell me you've never heard that before."
"Should I have?"
"Literally everyone says it."
"No, they don't."
"Yes, they do."
"Nuh uh."
"Yuh huh."
"Nuh uh."
"I'm not doing this with your ass right now." She downs the rest of her drink and gathers her things. "Pay for this martini, and I swear I'll spot you later."
"We both know that's a lie, but sure, get outta here. Amo-te, desarrumado." They kiss each other on the cheeks, and Y/n departs.
As Y/n is walking to her apartment, she has the misfortune of running into a couple of low-level criminals trying to steal a car. 
"You know, I don't think that's yours."
"And I think you'd best move along." He pulls a gun on her, but she is unphased by it. "Less you wanna be a victim to this crime."
"I bet you thought you ate that one." The criminals look up just as a figure falls from the sky and lands on one of them.
Y/n knew that physique well. It used to embrace her while she cooked breakfast at three in the morning. Shield her from the demons that plagued her in the dark. That voice that whispered sweet nothings when he thought she was sleeping. That voice that chortled mockingly at something that she hadn't meant as a joke, but she joined in the mirth. And when those eyes landed on her, she could feel the moment he first told her, I love you.
And just for a moment, she wanted to run into his arms and say it back. Just for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to feel all those things again.
"Can we talk?"
"I really don't want to do that."
"Please, Y/n?" 
She had to look away from him. The slight tremble in his tone as he pleaded, the glossy bit of hope that seemed to fill his eyes overwhelmed her. Even with his mask on, she still knew him so well.
She crossed her arms tightly over her abdomen, her hands cradling her biceps protectively. She huffs and does nothing else, but Jason quickly deals with the criminals and calls the police. 
She follows him to his motorcycle, where he puts her helmet on her, making sure it's secure. She wraps her arms around his midsection, and he pats her hands twice. The whole exchange is silent, and the ride follows suit. As well as the climb to the roof of the clock tower, where Jason walks behind her, ready to catch her.
Both hearts hammer in their chests. Both minds fuzzy and anxious. Hands fiddling with each other.
Above them, the stars twinkle and glitter. Their own conversations endless. She wondered what they spoke of. If the language they used ever became a hindrance to them. 
Jason took a seat just a bit behind her. His arms were propped up on his knees as he gazed at her. He swallowed, and his mouth opened, but nothing came out. His teeth clenched and his jaw set, his brows furrowing while he scrutinized the way her eyes shimmered in the moonlight. 
"Just like stars." He murmured abruptly.
And when she turned those eyes on him, he felt his breath catch. The world seemed to slow along with his heart. A wave of serenity washed over him.
"Hm?"
"Your eyes. They always remind me of stars."
Warmth fills her face, and her nose tingles. "O-oh, I-- th-thank you." Just as her words her heart stutters. Because, of course, he can make her feel just like a schoolgirl confessing to her crush.
"I miss you, Y/n." He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips and a weight lifting from his shoulders. "I miss you so damn much."
She bites her bottom lip to keep from saying it back. She takes a deep breath through her nostrils and blinks away tears. A war started in her the moment she saw him. And she was determined not to succumb to it.
She looks away. Back out at the plagued city below. "You wanted to talk. So talk."
His head hangs, a tired breath escaping his lips. "The kids turned out to not be mine.
Her heart picks up pace, and her head whips back around to him. Brows slowly knit together, her bottom lip quivering with her shakey breath. "Kids?"
He explains everything that's led up to this moment. "I won't pretend I'm not entirely hurt and disappointed by this. I just—I want you back. I was an idiot to ever leave you." 
He lets his words sink in a bit, and they do sink in. They permeate and invade. She feels... dizzy? Dazed? Her mind is fuzzy, and her loud heart is beating her ears. And his words--.
Gently, his hands cupped her face, soft like petals to his touch. His eyes, intense, warm, and focused drink in her own, uneasy, anticipating, and longing. His lips quirked up slightly on the right, strained and bittersweet. He brought her forehead down to his lips, planting a lingering kiss, then pulled her into an encompassing embrace.
"I'm sorry... I can't seem to stay away from you."
And she was sorry, too. She didn't want him to stay away. Fuck.
~~~
damn part 5. I remember when I said this would be no more than 5 parts... welp
Tags: @b4tm4nn @iyuuii @jaguarthecat @rhyanna6012
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bearsbeetsbeskar · 1 year
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Not me going to post that I desperately wish the writer for Stitches (@djarinsbeskar) would come back to Tumblr soon to satiate us with more content before mando s3, ONLY TO GET A NOTIFICATION THAT SHE HAS POSTED ON HERE
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bizarrelittlemew · 6 months
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calling it right now that season 3 starts like this
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sourscratched · 2 months
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neal nocturne human disaster + some noctré
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