Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In
Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason meets his daughters
warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE
see for: the vibes
His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment.
He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.
He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”
Dad?
“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.
He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?
“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”
He can’t think.
This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.
He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”
He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.
“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs.
He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise.
Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.
He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.
He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.
“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath.
“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.
“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”
“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.
His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—
“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”
He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”
You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”
He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.”
“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.
“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God.
You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”
He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?
You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”
He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”
“We have kids?”
You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”
“Five?” He breathes.
“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.”
He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”
“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”
He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly.
You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.
You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.
“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.
“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face.
“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”
There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.
“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.
You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.
“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.
You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.
“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.
“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”
He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”
You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.
This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head.
You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”
His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”
There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.
You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.
Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.
He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.
Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”
The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”
You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”
“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.
Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.
“Father?” She calls out sweetly.
You sigh, “Ryan—”
“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”
Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”
“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”
Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one.
“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess.
Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”
Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”
You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”
She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”
Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”
You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”
Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”
You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”
This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.”
Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.
“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”
Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”
“I can do it.” He says quietly.
“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on.
“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”
Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.
He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed.
She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”
She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”
Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now.
““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way.
He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly.
He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at.
“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed.
Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?”
That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?”
She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”
His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”
She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.
He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.
His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”
“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.
He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.
Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.
“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”
You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.”
Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”
He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”
You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”
“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”
She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.
You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas.
“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.
You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.
You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”
He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”
“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.
The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.
“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?”
He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”
“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”
He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”
He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over.
Nightwing moues at him “I don’t care?”
Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you.
He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”
Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”
Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.
He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:
WE’RE HAPPY
❤️ REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING ❤️
More Posts from Amfstargirl and Others
I love that you actually give Cassandra thoughts and a personality. It seems like a lot of other fics just gloss over the batfam girls or just make Cass a silent character with no thoughts.
EXACTLY!! YOU GET MEEEE some of the other stories (not shaming) seems to focus more on the batboys (and that's not really wrong) But the attention and personality they give the boys sometimes over shadow the girls! I like the fact that Cass DOES get provoked, angry, and feral over the reader just as much as the boys. If you notice, the reader seems to have a slight more connection to cassandra seeing as they share the same hobby (that the reader genuinely likes) which means there's gonna be a lot going on with their dynamic in the future chapters. now, I am fully aware that cassandra is a silent character both in Canon and fictional stories but that does NOT mean she will be free from the overbearing yandere thoughts. Who knows? she might be worst🤷🤷
svt- coming out as bisexual [maknae line]
![Svt- Coming Out As Bisexual [maknae Line]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/51e65d0c1f2039ea2a3484439b6c4d59/84db2c154fcbc745-1d/s500x750/acb01fce2ed5ad13a10fe85b49abd1b761fdf6c1.jpg)
pairing: non-idol!svt maknae line x fem!bisexual!reader
genre: some are angstier and lean toward hurt/comfort (mingyu + minghao), others are fluffier.
warnings: reader mentioned to have exes that aren't men (just women in seokmin's drabble, reader has dated both women and a non-binary person in seungkwan's). vague food mentions in mingyu's, minghao's, and vernon's drabbles (implied something fried in mingyu's due to the usage of cooking oil, mentions of tea in minghao's, vague dinner reference in vernon's). reader getting defensive in mingyu and minghao's drabbles. reader no longer speaks to her parents in mingyu's drabble due to biphobia from her parents. reader's ex in minghao's drabble is biphobic, but left ambiguous what he said to her. angry hao (not directed at reader). extremely casual coming out (seungkwan). joking reference to joshua beating up seungkwan if he didn't react well. reader being cheesy as fuck (vernon). questioning leading to realization (vernon). reader refers to herself as a bisexual mess. chan being kind of a mess (clueless but trying his best).
daisy's notes: happy pride! a continuation of these for the maknae line :) again, no taglist purely bc i don't know who will and won't be interested in this since it is a bit more exclusive.
lee seokmin
"if there's something you want to say, you can say it." seokmin's touch was feather-light as he cupped your cheeks. "i'm listening."
sometimes you wondered how you struck out with meeting seokmin, let alone dating him. he was one of the kindest souls you'd had the pleasure of knowing, let alone loving, and now was no different. tears brimmed your eyes as you replayed the past few minutes over and over in your head. you hadn't meant to come out like this. you wanted to have it be something more... official, in an odd way. something you had control over. but all it took was you ranting about one of your exes to seokmin for you to slip up and say that magic "she" that gave you away entirely.
seokmin hadn't meant to pry or force you out of the closet. but you saw the way he looked up, clearly caught up on that word. "she?" he'd said, soft enough that you thought it was just him musing aloud.
meanwhile, you swore all of the blood drained from your face right t hen and there. "i... uh..." you stammered out. every time you tried to come up with an excuse, the words seemed to dissipate on your tongue, melting away like cotton candy. you wanted to say something, anything. that it was a slip of the tongue. that he heard you correctly and, yes, one of your exes was a woman. that if he had a problem with it, you'd gather your belongings from around his apartment and leave right now.
that was what led to seokmin taking your face into his hands. he looked at you now with this softness in his eyes, ever so loving, and you were sure that he knew you were something other than straight. did you really have to say it? wasn't him knowing, even vaguely, enough? you averted your gaze, and seokmin dropped his hands from your cheeks down to your shoulders, slowly running down your arms until he met your hands.
"you don't have to," he said a moment later. "but if you want to, i'm listening."
you met his gaze. the words died on your tongue again. "you aren't mad i didn't tell you?"
he shook his head. "should i be?" he teased lightly, but dropped the tone when he saw the way you stiffened up over it. "sorry. it's not the time for jokes," he squeezed your hands. "if you don't want to say it, that's okay. whatever you are," he paused, "and whoever you are... i'll still love you. okay? i fell in love with you."
your face grew warmer at just how tender seokmin could be. "so it's really not a problem that i'm bisexual and just... didn't tell you? i mean, it's not like i don't take care of myself, so if you're worried that i'm not cle—"
"it's your identity," he firmly said, stopping you before you could spiral any further. "but... thank you for telling me," he leaned in to press a soft kiss against your forehead. "i love you."
you just smiled, a rosy warm feeling blossoming in your chest. "i love you, too, sunshine."
kim mingyu
"i was thinking..." mingyu was stretched out on your couch, listening to the clamor of pots and pans as you focused on making an elaborate dinner. "we've been dating for a while..."
"mhm?"
"and you've met my family..."
your stomach immediately dropped. oh no. even though you knew where this was going, you had to play dumb. maybe he'd catch your drift and go along with it. "uh-huh? well, kim, if this is a marriage proposal, i think we're still a little too early into a relationship for that—"
he didn't hesitate to ask. "when can i meet yours?"
shit. the spatula slipped from your grasp, clattering against the stove-top far too loudly for your liking. a glance over your shoulder was enough to tell you that mingyu had leaned up to look, watching you carefully. you waved him off, cleaning up where you'd splattered a little bit of oil onto the countertop with your clumsy action. it gave you a moment to think. people were sometimes weird about the fact you'd gone no-contact with your parents as soon as you could stand on your own two feet. a curt never, haha, sorry! would unfortunately never work. but...
"i... i don't think that's exactly gonna happen, mingyu." you didn't turn to look at him. the conversation would be easier if you didn't.
but you heard the sound of him getting up off of the couch, making his way over. "is there a reason?" he crossed his arms, leaning against the nearby counter. "or is it me?"
"it's not you," you didn't hesitate. the last thing you wanted him thinking was that you didn't like him. with a deep breath, you turned to face mingyu. "i don't talk to my parents anymore because they never accepted that i'm bisexual."
he said nothing at first, just staring at you as everything sank in. not that you blamed him: if someone unloaded all of that onto you, you'd probably need a couple minutes to process. all you heard from him was a soft "oh."
"is that going to be a problem?" you crossed your arms. "because if it is, you can leave my apartment right fucking now—"
he shook his head. "honey, i'd never have a problem with any of that," he said as calmly as he could, a steady stream in contrast to the way you were already starting to burn. "i won't bring it up again, though. i'm sorry."
you let out a long sigh, head dropping down for a minute. shit. you knew you had the tendency to get defensive too quickly over this shit. "sorry, mingyu—"
"don't," he said. "it's okay." he stepped closer to you. "i shouldn't have pushed. i think most people don't cut off contact from their parents unless they have a reason."
"no," you pressed a hand to his chest, "it's a fair question. i just..." with a heavy sigh, you shook your head. "i came out to them when i was a teenager, and they basically told me i was desperate for love. and once i could afford to live on my own... i cut contact." you met his gaze a moment later. "some people get weird about it and tell me that i should reach out because they're my parents, i wouldn't be here without them, but... it's not their decision."
he took your hand in his own, drawing it up so that he could kiss your knuckles. "it's not," he affirmed. "but... you're not desperate," mingyu said softly, "i know you know that, but you're just you. and i love you," he smiled, so giddy and in love with you as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.
you found yourself smiling as you pecked his cheek in return. "and i love you, silly," you giggled. "thank you, though. for understanding."
he stepped behind you once you turned back to the meal you were almost finished cooking, wrapping his arms around you. "it's my job," he chuckled. "but you're welcome. and if it means anything..." he shut his eyes, resting against you now. "my family loves you. and so do all of my friends," he giggled. "and so do your friends. so... i think you already have a better family now."
"i know." you smiled to yourself. you'd picked this family out for yourself, after all. but the reminder helped.
xu minghao
there were only so many situations that would lead to what you were dealing with now: minghao, face burning with anger, as he was forcibly dragged out of a restaurant by you. you hadn't let go of him at all, dragging him up the street despite the way he struggled against you once, then twice, before giving in. he was being irrational and he knew it, and you just needed to get him out of there before something bad happened.
"can you stop and tell me what just happened?!" he finally snapped at you, ripping his wrist from your grasp. "who was that and why was he disrespecting you?"
of course that was what he zeroed in on. not the fact your ex-boyfriend was right about to out you to minghao before you'd even ordered drinks, but the fact the guy was being a dick to you. not that it was a surprise: the guy had been disgusting toward you when you came out to him. of course he'd try to "warn" minghao about what he was getting into now.
"that," you said, "was my ex. and we're not having this conversation here."
minghao balled his fists, standing his ground. "he was being horrible to you. you should have let me shut him down. i'm your boyfriend," he said, "if you're scared to stand up for you, then let me do it for you. no one should treat you like that."
"which is why he's my ex," you pointed out. "i don't need you to fight my battles for me."
"that's not what i—"
you shook your head. "if you want to talk, we're going back to my place. i don't want to talk about it here."
that seemed to finally register with minghao, who had slowly been coming back down from that burst of anger. he looked around, realizing that, while the two of you weren't attracting attention, there were other people around. so he nodded, and took your hand as you guided him home. and he didn't let go: not on the taxi ride there, not in the elevator, and not until you needed to let yourself into your apartment.
you excused yourself to make yourself a cup of tea, offering to make him one as well. minghao accepted the offer before looking around your apartment. it'd been a bit since he'd made it over here again. he'd been busy, and most of the time, you were meeting him out or going to his place to hang out for cozy at-home dates.
soon enough, you'd settled down next to him. "i'm only going to explain this once," you said, "okay? i don't want to think about him too often, so..."
minghao immediately stopped you. "you don't have to tell me," he said, voice softer now. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have snapped--"
you shook your head. "you're right, you shouldn't have, but i'm still going to tell you so you know." with a deep breath, you set down the cup of tea. "i'm bisexual. i figured it out during college. that," you vaguely nodded in a direction, "was my ex-boyfriend. i came out to him, and he said... some things," your voice was dripping with venom at even the vague memory, "and i ended it with him right then and there. so when we ran into him tonight, he was trying to warn you about my sexuality."
minghao grimaced. "that's not his place."
"which is why i dragged you out of there," you said. "before he could out me."
all at once, you saw the realization hit minghao like a truck. he hadn't considered that part of it all. his lips parted for a moment, and then he closed his mouth again, shaking his head. "i'm sorry," he said again, voice softer now. "i should have realized—"
you clasped your hand over his mouth, minghao's eyes widening in surprise. "don't. i don't want to think about it. you already apologized for getting angry, so let's just leave it at that. okay?"
he slowly nodded, pushing your hand away from his mouth. "thank you for trusting me with this, by the way," his voice was still soft, gentle enough to truly mean it. then he frowned. "i hate that he ruined our night now," he said. he'd been wanting to show you that restaurant for a while now. "you deserve better than that."
"i know," you reached forward, pinching his cheek lightly. "because i have you."
he met your gaze and smiled. "thank you," he giggled, hand resting over your own. "i'm glad i have you in my life, too."
boo seungkwan
"you know i've kissed girls, right?"
seungkwan shot up from where he'd been reclined on the couch, scrolling through social media. his phone clattered to the floor, and he turned to watch where you continued to idly work on a cross-stitch project. it was as if you hadn't said anything. but he heard you, right? you said something, right? should he say something in response...? he just sat there, watching you, hoping you'd give something up. after a moment, you glanced up from your project to see the way seungkwan was just staring at you, at a loss for words.
"well?" you set your project down, turning to face him. "jeez, dude, you kinda suck at this whole 'coming out' thing--"
wait, what? "you're...?"
"bisexual," you grinned at him, resting your head in one hand. "i've been trying to decide on the best way to come out to you for a while now. and... i dunno, one of my friends just said to tell you i've dated women before." for a moment, you paused. "and one non-binary person, actually. they were cool, even though it didn't last that long."
seungkwan still had no idea what the hell to say to this. he almost wished that this had been more emotional. he could deal with emotional, with holding you and telling you he loved you and accepted you no matter what. what he was struggling to deal with was how you seemed to be taking joy out of how at a loss for words he was right now.
"well?" you watched him, smiling that evil smile of yours. no wonder joshua and jeonghan had been so eager to introduce "a friend of theirs" to seungkwan forever ago. you fit right in with them. "should i have bought you a lemon square? or cuffed my jeans? or—"
seungkwan finally stood up, crossing the room. "you're so mean to me," he said, squishing your cheeks. "always teasing me..." then his gaze softened a little, although his voice never wavered from that playful tone, "is this really how you're coming out to me?"
it earned a delighted snort of joy from you. "do you have a problem with it?" even with your smushed face, you were hellbent on teasing him. "joshua said he'd come beat you up if you reacted badly."
seungkwan rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss your lips before drawing back. "i love youuuu," he said, drawing the word out to tease you back. he drew his hand away from your face, watching the way you stretched your jaw a little now that you were free. "but if i'm being serious... then thank you for telling me," he said, voice growing softer. "i know you're enjoying teasing me, but i know this is a big step for you."
your smile fell for just a few seconds. seungkwan had seen through your bravado, and you mouthed a soft thanks. and then you returned to smiling, burning brighter than ever. "you live another day, my sweet boo."
he rolled his eyes, kissing your forehead. "i could take joshua," he said. "i could."
with a delighted giggle, you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer to you. "i know you could."
vernon chwe
"the moon's beautiful tonight," you mused aloud, holding onto vernon's arm. the two of you had opted for a walk by the river after dinner. "you know what else is beautiful?"
vernon looked over at you with a soft hum. he knew where you were going with this, but... if you wanted to be cheesy and romantic, then who was he to stop you? "who?"
"you," you giggled. and then you squeezed his arm. you had averted your gaze, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment as you suddenly seemed a little more distant from him. "and, uh... a lot of people, actually."
it earned a snort from him. "oh, yeah?" he turned to you, ready to tease you. "and who are these other guys?"
"not just guys, silly," you said, drifting from his side a little. "i think women are kinda hot, too. actually... everyone's just kind of hot and i think i'm just a big mess because of it."
vernon watched you curiously for a moment. he followed after you. "so... like... in what way?"
"i've been thinking a lot lately," you admitted. "and... i dunno. i think when i started googling quizzes to figure out my sexuality, that should have been a really big sign that i'm bisexual, y'know?" you glanced at him. "and... i dunno, i really wanted to tell you. so... i'm telling you."
vernon just slowly nodded along. "i see..."
you slowed to a stop. "i don't know why i'm bringing this up tonight. i just..." you rested a hand over your heart for a moment. "it's like i've had this big secret stuck inside of me for so long, and... you're the first person i want to tell because i know you won't react badly. because you've always been a really sweet guy, you know?"
the heat traveled to his face at that. this was your moment, and still you found it within yourself to compliment him. he just stood before you, unsure of what to say. should he wait until you were finished? he wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he'd always accept you, that he supported you. all the things you deserved to hear.
"i think that's why i've felt so safe exploring this part of myself, too." you reached forward, taking his hands in yours. "because i knew that if i am bisexual... then you'll be right there to support me. because you're you. and... i'm me." you met his gaze, a soft smile on your face. "and i'm bisexual and... i really, really like knowing that now. i'm just this big bisexual mess sometimes, but it's who i am, you know?"
he squeezed your hands tight for a moment. "i'm glad you feel safe with me," he said, voice soft. he leaned forward to kiss you gently. "so, uh. thanks for telling me," he chuckled. "sorry—i'm not good at this, am i?"
"you're perfect as you are, silly," you giggled. "but, uh, now you know why i get flustered whenever the pretty barista compliments me."
"nah," he pulled you forward, "i've known compliments fluster you. remember when we first started dating—"
immediately, you let out a groan. "don't remind me."
"you still get all cute when i call you pretty now," he chuckled, swaying with you. "but it's cool. you're my cute, bisexual mess of a girlfriend." he squeezed you a little tighter. "and i love you."
you snuggled into his embrace. "yeah, yeah..." you wrapped your arms around him. "i love you, too, you big dork."
lee chan
"sorry, you're what?"
you genuinely have no idea how to respond right now. you'd ended up blurting out the whole "hey, by the way, i'm bisexual!" thing to chan impulsively, and now... he was just staring at you, completely perplexed now. how were you supposed to answer this? by giving him a definition...? by asking what he didn't understand? hell, did he even hear you correctly?
"bisexual," you answered after a moment. "you know... like... i like more than just guys?"
"no, i—" he shook his head. "i get that. i just... i didn't hear you the first time." he nodded slowly. "so, um... how long have you known?"
you tapped your toes against the floor, suddenly growing more nervous. shit, was this going to be it for the two of you? maybe you should message your housemate to get the ice cream out now. "since i was... sixteen, i think?" you frowned a little. "i dunno. around sixteen. i just..." you took a deep breath. "it's weird to describe, i guess. there was a girl i was crushing on in high school. one day, she hugged me and it all just kinda clicked in my head, and... yeah." you shrugged. "i'm bisexual. is that a problem?"
immediately, he went wide eyed and shook his head. "no! no, no, no—it's not a problem at all!" he set aside his coffee cup. "i was just curious—genuinely! i mean, i didn't know if i should be supporting you questioning and figuring yourself out right now, or if you knew and i should just be supportive and happy for you, or—uh, i—"
something about how flustered you'd made him made you laugh. he grew quieter, cheeks rosy as he watched you giggle to yourself for a moment.
"it's not a problem," he reaffirmed one last time. "you're still you. you're still my girlfriend," he reached across the table, interlocking his fingers with your own. "and i love you. thank you for trusting me with this." he paused for a moment. "does anyone know?"
"my parents, for one," you said, counting off on your fingers. "a lot of my really close friends know. uh, your friend vernon knows, but that's because he somehow knows my ex-girlfriend and he just put two and two together when we started dating. and, uh, seungcheol—but that's because i told him forever ago before he ever introduced us. i'm, like, out, but it's not something i just go around saying, y'know?"
he nodded along. "okay. good to know." he ran his thumb over your knuckles. "i mean it, though. thank you for telling me." he paused once more, looking up at you. "can... can i ask you questions about it? or is that too much?"
something about the soft look in chan's eyes endeared you to him more than before. he seemed so shy now. a little clueless as to how to go forward, but he did seem like he genuinely cared. "questions like...?"
"how you knew," he said softly, "and if there's anything i can do to not mess this up with you. i've, um," his faced was flushed, "i don't think i've dated a bisexual before and i don't want to say accidentally something stupid that hurts you. i've, um—i've heard about people doing that, you know?"
"i think you're already overthinking it a little," you said softly. "just keep treating me like me, and if you do say something without thinking, we'll talk about it. okay?"
his shoulders slumped a little, whatever pressure he was putting himself under having been lifted. "right! right," he ran his thumb over your knuckles once more, face burning red now. "right. i... i'm sorry," he laughed nervously, meeting your gaze again after a moment. "i'm a mess."
"you're a cute mess," you giggled. you reached out, brushing a strand of hair back from his eyes. "but i am, too."
his eyes twinkled a little as he looked at you like you were his world. "a cuter mess," he said. "but... really. thank you for telling me and—and trusting me. i'm really glad you do."
Can u say all the current ages of the batfamily since I'm a bit confused
I am too LMAO let's just say damian is like 14/15 reader and Tim is 18 jason is in his mid 20's dick is going on 30 and Bruce is old.
Yandere batfam x neglected reader
So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are
We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *
The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.
Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.
Wrong.
Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.
Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.
Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.
Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!
Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.
And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.
They were never fair.
As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.
It can't be.
hear me out but … afab gojo slutting himself out by “accidentally” getting stuck in a hole in the wall (he only happens to be naked waist down and already prepped)
im hearing you out nonnie 📢‼️‼️
"What the fuck."
Satoru grinned at the other side as soon as he heard you, the trail of lube coming out of his pussy continued to gush and drip as it twitched from the cold air touching the warm flesh.
Of course, you were surprised— hell, even 'surprised' was an understatement. Yet, you couldn't help but gaze at his lower part, naked lower part, and then there was amusement reflected on your face. "What are you on now, huh?"
He clenched his ass, pussy throbbing from anticipation as soon as you rubbed his pink numb. His clit becoming more sensitive from your ministrations. Come on, I know you want this, sweetheart. he'd wiggle his ass for you to fit your cock inside his loose hole. The dangerous, sinful sounds of his wet, messy pussy drove you mad.
You then aggressively tugged him apart and then layed your tongue flat against his cunt. Hot juices of his pussy leaving your soft muscle a sweet taste, diving further into his hole and then licking a stripe as you ate him lile a fucking starved man.
He continued to drench your chin with his fluids, the intimate contact left his legs trembling again and again, strings of cum visible between his pussy to your mouth.
"Mmmh, is this a-all you got?" the gut feeling of just eating out his audacity roughly seemed rather tempting, but you had to restraint yourself for that. Satoru's body twitched with every lap, thighs shook due to how harsh you're treating his sweet cunt, and then there was that bump.
"Nghh ah!"
He shot his eyes open, nails digging hard into the wall as he waited to finally cum. He waited, and waited. And waited. But it wasn't there, it never came out. Tears began to swell up due to how you handled him, he felt a sharp pain on his hips when you gripped him tighter.
"I was so close, so close! You just had to be a bitch and take it fro— anMff?!"
"Baby, who do you think started this at the first place?" he moaned as he felt a sudden pain on his pussy lips. No, you did not just— "Ah!" whines came out naturally from his lips, eyes blurry from how much slaps he got against his cunt.
"Come on, I asked you a question," he kept unmoving, tired body already giving up if it wasn't for your arms holding his hips. The tip of your index and middle exploring his sensitive flesh, tracing circles around his warmth until it reaches his— he felt you lift his hood up and then realization came. You perverted ass, you can't—
"Ahn! mmf it's m-me. I started thi— keukk!"
He had to bite his lower lips until it bled, his sensitive bud exposed and numb from the harsh slap it received. Fuck, it fucking hurts so much. Big fat tears left his eyes swollen as he started to keep his thighs close. Hips wiggling out of your touch, but no, he gave you a taste— that fucking sinful, desire to ruin such strong, respectable man.
You positioned your knee between his prying legs, making contact with his wet pussy that left your pants damp. "That's it, good boy."
Suddenly, cum splattered down to his abdomen, and then in between your and his own thighs— some even got into the wall. His eyes rolled right back his head as he felt something big and thick rip him apart. You continued to slide your cock inside back and forth, each thrusts plunging deep and hits every nook and canny of his sensitive walls.
The sloppy and aggressive movements becoming more eager and desperate to dive in the overwhelming warmth. His hole then throbbed and milks the fuck out of you. Balls hitting his fat mounds as you kept an aggressive pace and relieve your frustrations through those onslaughts.
" Ah, ah, ah mmf!" you continued to ram your swelled up cock inside his cunt, releasing all your cum all nice and deep inside. The glorious man below then squirted against the wall, feeling his insides getting filled up with so much cum, yet still hard.
He had to keep himself from passing out as you forced his entrance open again for your throbbing cock. Breath heavy and panting from how rough you're handling him.
Satoru cried out loud for all to hear from the hard fuck he's receiving. Nails dug deeper into his skin as you plunged your length again and again. His ass sensitive and red from your rough pounding.
He couldn't take it anymore. The pain grew as his consciousness began to fall as his pussy got owned up and taken. Drools and bodily fluids continued to drip, brain no longer functioning to even realize you filled him up again. And continued to do so as soon as black started to consume him.
You should've realized how dangerous this is, Toru. You hummed, cock railing his puffy cunt warm and sticky, and then plunging deep inside his warmth. You should've realized that you were like a fleeting drug to me.
had my third cup of coffee today while writing filth 🕺
Hey so apparently my parents are getting divorced 💀 so I apologize in advance at my lack of presence in here. I'll get back as soon as I process all of this.
Yn: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up!
Yn: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!
Batfamília: 🤨
Bruce: There's no more salvation
Is (Y/N) canonically unattractive? Or is it just her own insecurities making her believe she is? I genuinely feel so bad for her, I used to do ballet but it was so much pressure and genuinely destroyed me self esteem.😭
The reader is not unattractive!! The constant pressure and lack of assurance/support from their family made them think that way. Plus, being surrounded by confident, attractive dancers while being an insecure mf rlly makes 'em go feral. If you can see the small details, it is heavily implied that they have ED and struggles with their self-esteem as they feels like they will never be enough.
—the black dog
pairing: theo nott x fem!reader
summary: the war awakes something in theo you hadn't thought was even there. you battle with your feelings of heartbreak, while you try to forget his everlasting presence in your life
warnings: mentions of death, grief, pain and torture. canon typical violence. this is very much heartbreak through and through
note: this isn't exactly what you asked for but your request inspired me to write this. i feel like it was important to highlight the complicated relationship that theo and reader resulted in because of the war.
theo and draco are cousins in this.
"would you please just talk to me?" you screamed. he had been acting weird for a few days now.
at first you hadn't thought anything of it, not at the beginning. it had started with draco, who had been strange since the school year started, staying behind when the rest of you would go somewhere or disappearing in the middle of dinner.
you had tried talking to him, you had grown closer over the time you and theo were together. you had quickly realized that it was hard for draco to build relationships, partly because he wasn't sure how and partly because he was scared of being left.
you had done a pretty good job at showing him that you were going nowhere and that he, even if theo and you should break up one day, would still be your friend.
you had thought that it had something to do with his parents. he didn't mention them often and you had only met them once, during a visit to the manor for a festivity during the winter break of the fifth year. you admitted that you didn't know them well, but it was easy enough for you to judge narcissa malfoy and the connection she had to her son. the love that kept her from ever risking something happening to him.
whatever was going on with him, his mother was well informed and probably already searching for a solution.
but draco had made it clear to you that he wanted to be left alone and you didn't push him to tell you more, just comforted him whenever he would let you or pansy.
his weird behavior had been a constant throughout the entire year, until the point where it had influenced mattheo and enzo to act just as suspiciously and if you thought it couldn't get worse, you had been wrong.
"i can't" theo muttered between clenched teeth, and you tried to look at his face as he frantically turned away from you.
"is it about harry? is it about something he said to draco? did he say something to you?"
harry and the rest of your gryffindor friends were normally a topic you strictly avoided when in company of the slytherins and especially draco. you didn't agree on the childish rivalry they had going on and rather just kept out of that. but now that you thought about it, harry had been acting just as strange as draco had since the beginning of the year.
"potter doesn't matter, y/n" theo pressed his hands on both your shoulders, scaring you with the look on his face.
"let me help you, love" you tried to not let it affect you, to not let the fear shine through your voice and honestly, you weren't scared of him, but of what would happen to the boy you loved so desperately it felt like breathing.
"you can't" theo shook his head. "but you have to get ouf of the castle immediately, promise it to me"
"what? why should i--"
"you have to promise it" theo repeated louder, desperate and teary eyed as he stared at you like you had already died.
the threatening war had made it harder to overlook the differences between you and the slytherins. you were a pureblooded witch, but definitely didn't share the same views about blood purity your friends did.
"okay" you cooed, taking him into your arms. "i promise, i promise anything you want"
theo didn't leave much room for questions when he told you to get off the hogwarts grounds and apparate home to your parents a few minutes later. you were scared and confused, as you watched the fear in his eyes flame up at whatever was coming. there was something he was not telling you and it simply broke your heart, knowing that he had to go through it alone.
you weren't sure what took over you, when you heard a familar laugh, one that was so earth shattering and haunting, you couldn't help but dash back into the castle, despite what you had promised your boyfriend, his name repeating over and over again in your mind.
you took two stairs at once, sprinting up the tower, wand in hand and ready to jump to theo's defense.
"you made mummy so proud, boys" bellatrix said and you wanted to throw up at the tone in her voice. you could just imagine enzo and mattheo, or what was left of them, looking at their mother, not one bit of love or familiarity on their face. just fear.
before you could climb the rest of the stairs, a hand grabbed you, pulling you to the side, behind old school supplies. the persons other hand was pressed onto your mouth and your eyes grew big until you noticed harry, stoic expression, not amused at seeing you.
"harry" you muttered relieved.
"what are you doing here?" harry whispered, not caring for the fear in your voice or the intent you had had coming up here in the first place.
before you could answer, bellatrix spoke once again.
"your boy has surely made you proud too, nott" she giggled. "just like our draco will make his parents in just a few minutes"
your eyes went up to the floor above you like your own name had been called. it wasn't even theo she had called by the name and still you could just imagine his slumped down shoulders and sickly expression. the same he had been spotting these past few days.
harry watched you closely, as if to make sure you would keep quiet, before his eyes turned back up too.
“do it” bellaxtrix hissed at draco, who had raised his wand at dumbledore.
harry and you exchanged glances, before he too, raised his wand. you gripped on his arms tightly, shaking your head at him.
“we can’t” you mouthed.
“dumbledore” harry whispered. you shook your head again, tears spilling over your cheeks.
your eyes left harry and wandered back through the floorboards. you couldn’t see theo, enzo, and mattheo, but draco was clearly shaking in fear and you couldn’t help but be worried about him.
“draco” bellaxtrix encouraged once more “do it!”
“he’s not brave enough, bellatrix” notts voice rang out sounding as triumphantly as possible. you heard movement on the floor, a pair of dark shoes stepping forward and you wondered what nott was planning to do, when your heart suddenly stopped beating.
“avada kedavra” a voice muttered, wand raised and aimed at dumbledore, who fell backwards so slowly as if time had stopped.
harry gripped your arm, your body still frozen, as your eyes stayed focused on notts shoes. theodore notts shoes. not his father. theo, your theo.
theo had just killed dumbledore.
one part of you wanted to scream, jump into the open and scream at him or bellatrix or all the people a few steps above you, but the other part, the unstoppable dread, was aching to hide away from all of it, to just go and never come back.
how could you ever look at him again after what you had just witnessed? would he still be the same after he had done something like this? you couldn’t. he wouldn’t. your heart ripped open.
“y/n” harry whispered, pushing you back to hide the both of you behind some old astronomy maps. footsteps descended down the stairs and out of the tower and you felt like you could breathe again once he had left.
you sank to your knees immediately. harry still watched the space around you, not sure if you were entirely safe yet.
someone ran up the stairs. harry tried grabbing you to push you back behind the old things, to shield you from whoever was coming back and trying to finish the job.
it was snape and harry felt relieved for the first time upon seeing the teacher. he didn’t fully trust him, but dumbledore did. also, snape was a far better option than any of the death eaters.
snapes eyes jumped between harry and you on the ground, before they turned to look up the stairs.
“they’re gone” harry said, voice raised to drown out your sobbing, before he bent down once more and helped you back onto your feet. he pulled you close, to bring you comfort and shield your tear spilled face from snape's penetrating gaze.
harry wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he could almost see a bit of pity in snape’s eyes, when the man watched you stand on your shivering legs, only held up by harry, as if your body was too heavy to stand on it’s own.
it was just suddenly that the meaning of snape's presence painted a clear picture in your mind. narcissa malfoy hadn't found a solution, no she had found something that was even better: a substitute, someone to step in, when draco would ultimately fail upon the task he had been given.
and tiberius nott had done the same, only that he had proudly sold out his son instead of sparing his life.
you threw off harry’s arms, walking across the room, step by step, until you were standing in front of the teacher, ready to bash his head in.
“you are too late” you cried, not caring if spit or tears or anything else fell onto his robes. you stabbed a finger to his chest. “it’s your job to help. why didn’t you help him?” you cried.
snape furrowed his brows in confusion. “draco?” he asked in his normal tone, but a little bit of surprise broke through. just like you had thought. not even snape had held draco for capable of fulfilling his task.
you shook your head. slowly, bitterly. It was unfair that you had to say his name, that you had to recapture the event like a missed quidditch game, that snape had been late enough to miss it, but perfectly on time to watch your life fall apart.
you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. couldn’t even mutter the name that had been the most beautiful thing to you these past years, there was nothing left. no meaning behind those letters and still you couldn’t do it. “nott” you said.
it was over.
“nott?” snape repeated, as if he was daring you to finally say what you had been dreading.
“junior” harry muttered. you turned your head at him and he looked down on his shoes, as if he was ashamed you had heard him.
“surprisingly unexpected” snape noted, like you had been discussing the weather.
“what?” you muttered, your voice strained.
“y/n” harry said softly and you could hear him coming closer. you broke apart from snape, slapping his hand away when he tried reaching for your arm in an unusual caring manner.
“you failed him” you spit at him, before you stormed out of the tower, harry hot on your heels.
bellaxtrix and the rest of the deatheaters, were jumping down the grass path to hagrids hut. following behind them were draco, enzo, mattheo and finally theo, who stepped out of the castle as last.
they had probably strolled through the halls, bringing their inevitable destruction into the home you had grown to love and cherish.
harry and you had watched them from the side of the entryway, dried tears on your cheeks and the anger taking over the pain that had tightened your chest. you loved him, but you couldn't believe that he had had no choice.
killing someone was not debatable.
you had watched in susprise when theo had not been there with them, but your surprise had been quickly taken over by even more anger, when he finally strolled through the door, hands in his pockets, like he was talking a late evening stroll.
your hand wept forward without so much as a thought, gripping the material of his tie and yanking him back.
theo made a gurgling sound, briefly breathless, and it was only his surprise that allowed you to measure up enough strength to effectively pull him back. that and your anger.
harry helped you as he pushed theo against the wall, wand at his throat.
theo took a big breath as soon as you let go of his tie, his eyes widened in surprise as he completely ignored harry and only looked at you, your face cast with shadows of the darkness in the creeping night and the regret that was so evident it only pained him further.
"didn't i tell you to go home?" it didn't surprise you that there was still a hint of superiority in his voice, even if it had faltered tremendously.
"you knew about all of it, didn't you?" you asked instead.
"y/n" theo sighed, in a tone as if he was inspecting a failed task for a homework you hadn't been able to finish. "i can explain"
"i don't think you should" you muttered and you were doing your best to not let the look of helplessness that now entered his face break your heart any further. "i just think i speak for the both of us, when i say that it's over"
"y/n" theo pleaded, pushing against harry's hold to try and reach for you. you stepped back and harry pushed the tip of his wand deeper into theo's neck.
you shook your head, not having it in you to look at him, before you turned around. "do what you have to do" you left the two of them alone, knowing that harry was just waiting to punish theo for killing one of the most important people to him.
you couldn't muster up the courage to even care about what would happen to him. your anger at snape had evaporated as fast as it had come. theo had it in him to kill and snape's late arrival changed nothing about that.
the person you had loved died together with the headmaster.
everything had been lost the moment he had muttered the curse, leaving behind a hurricane of feelings in your heart, but no one left to love in this world.
you did not waste another thought for him, pushing his name so far away from your mind, you almost forgot about him completely.
but a three-year relationship wasn't just consisting of memories, but of habits too and you found yourself thinking about possibilities in the dead of night.
possibilities that you had thought to be endless before, but of which was only one left now.
what if theo hadn't killed dumbledore?
your friends were clearly worried about you. hermione and ginny never left you alone during your stay in the burrow or during the nights, which had to have been the most haunting. the time were you most experienced his loss, as nightmares were plaguing your mind and fear was taking over your senses, feeling like you had made a mistake with theo. even if your friends and the weasleys said something different.
it was the same restlessness that lead to you following hermione, ron and harry on an adventure that was trying to fulfill an impossible task.
but there was no hope left if you didn't at least try what had been asked of you and you were smart enough to realize that.
even though you were always together, the time you were on the road seemed to be the most lonely you had ever felt and you found yourself thinking more about theo than you had wanted to.
none of your friends dared to say anything to you the next morning, when you would call out his name in your dream, always asking yourself what had happened, and if he was even still alive.
your question was answered in a different way than you had liked, when your group was discovered by deatheaters and brought back to malfoy manor, where not only draco and the malfoys, but theo was staying too.
you hadn't seen him at first, down in the dungeon. but surely they had come to get hermione, bringing her back a few hours later, scarred and crying for mercy as she fell into ron's arms.
it took another hour to call for the other female friend of harry potter.
"the other?" you could draco's voice ask when you were dragged up the stairs and through the halls.
"what other?" it was theo's voice that was now speaking, fear and dread overweighing the curiosity.
the door flew open and five people turned around to gain a look at you.
narcissa and lucius malfoy were sitting in obnoxious chairs, spotting similiar looks of surprise and interest.
bellatrix was hanging over the back of narcissa's chair. her hands pressing down on her younger sister's shoulders, squeezing them as if she was excited.
narcissa suddenly seemed less content, as she heard the similar gasps coming from her sons and nephew's mouths.
draco and theo were staring at you wide-eyed. their faces pale and painfully twisted as they recalled what had happened with harry potter's other friend just hours before.
"oh" bellatrix quirked up when the unknown death eater threw you to the floor and theo and draco dashed forward at the same time to try and catch you, before they were held back by the black haired witch. "do you happen to know her?"
your eyes were fixated on the doors behind you, which fell close with a loud thud as the deatheater who had brought you disappeared.
"no" draco and theo mustered up to stutter at the same time.
you send a glare across the room. it meant nothing, those two were only shells of the boys you had once known. but the innocence had been drained from them like a well run dry in a relentless drought.
"what are we going to do with you?" bellatrix smiled, stepping away from the chair and walking around your body on the floor.
narcissa reached for theo's arm, when he was about to drag bellatrix away from you.
you averted your eyes. not giving her the satisfaction to see the fear in them.
bellatrix looked through your act immediately. "she's a tough one" she noted and her expression of admiration changed to a malicious grin as she saw theo close his eyes.
"you do it" she laughed excitedly, stepping forward and pulling theo into the middle of the room.
"bellatrix, please" narcissa said, not even bothering to stand up and stop her sister from her attempt.
"what, cissy?" bellatrix asked. "you don't think she should be punished for stealing?"
"stealing what?" your voice made bellatrix turn around dramatically.
"would you look at that!" she gushed "the girl can speak!"
"yes" you nodded "and the girl can even tell you that she stole nothing"
"lie" bellatrix giggled and you had to admire her persistence, while the playful tone in her voice kept you on edge, always waiting for the moment she would break into an insanely loud scream.
you had heard not only hermione's cries, but bellatrix' screams from the dungeon. that gave a measure to how loud she was able to scream. and how she could torture until there was nothing left of the person you had once been.
"atta boy!" bellatrix encouraged theo, as she pushed him closer, until he was standing just a few feet from your body.
you wouldn't beg for their mercy. you would die without feigning any regret. if bellatrix really thought you stole something from her, you were glad she was torturing you instead of harry, who was much more important for everything coming after.
you could afford to die so early into the war. you were of no importance for the safety of the wizarding world.
you looked up at theo. the blue of his eyes mixed together with the tears that were already spilling over the edges.
"it shouldn't be hard" you said, voice hoarse and strained. you had been apart for almost ten months and he was still creating a lump in your throat, he was standing for everything that had been lost.
theo exchanged a glance with draco, almost as if begging him to take his place.
"bellatrix, this is madness" narcissa said, a bit stricter now, as if her simple words could really change the mind of someone who had already decided to embrace the madness her sould had been corrupted by.
"oh, cissy" bellatrix giggled "how will he learn? just another step on the path he must take to be granted the honour of the dark lord"
"do it" you said to theo, ignoring what bellatrix was babbling about.
"i can't—“ theo looked back at narcissa, talking to her rather than you.
"do it!" you repeated, louder this time.
"she even wants him to" bellatrix noted, clear amusement in her voice. she was almost excited to find out more about the conflict between you and her nephew.
"she's a pureblooded witch" theo turned to bellatrix, now trying to convince her himself. "she's one of us"
"i'm not" you protested, but bellatrix ignored you, stepping forward and touching theo's cheek softly with the pocket knife that she had taken from her robes, dripping in blood. hermione's blood probably.
"i thought you didn't know her" bellatrix mused "but the knowledge about her blood status suggests otherwise" theo gulped and before he was ready to say something, bellatrix has dragged the weapon across his cheek with one quick gesture, leaving a bleeding cut.
theo looked down quickly, as if to hide his injury from you, but he hadn't missed the gasp of air you had taken, scared that the woman had planned to kill him.
bellatrix stepped back next to her sister. "go on boy, don't make auntie bella angry" she threatened, playing with the knife in her hand.
not even narcissa dared to say something.
"just kill me" you told theo, when he raised his eyes to look at you once more, wand still losely hanging to the side. "you know how to"
"y/n" theo muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.
"it doesn't matter" you shook your head. "just do it" you closed your eyes, ready for the stream of the green curse to take over your body and future.
theo did not raise his wand.
"kill me" you said loudly, unforgiving, almost screaming. you opened your eyes to look at your tormentors. apart from bellatrix none of them looked like they were particularly enjoying what was happening.
bellatrix’s eyes gleamed with a twisted satisfaction as if she was savoring the power she held over theo. narcissa’s face was a portrait of conflicted emotions, torn between her loyalty to her sister and her love for her son and nephew. lucius’s gaze darted nervously between the scene unfolding before him, as if hoping for some resolution to the madness. draco was crying and trying to swallow the breaths that were tempting him to throw up right on his aunt's feet.
and theo? theo was rather keen on killing himself than doing you any harm.
you were less forgiving. "kill me like you killed dumbledore!" you screamed, tears falling on the floor in front of you, as your voice echoed off the cold stone walls. the anger in your voice was raw, pure, and unfiltered. theo flinched at the words, his face paling further, if that was even possible. the weight of your demand seemed to crush him, making it even harder for him to act.
you were so indescribably angry. but not at what he had done to you, but rather what he had done to himself. and that in it alone was the reason you would never forgive him.
he had ruined what you had loved. he had killed the person you had loved the most and you had nothing left to care about what would happen to you.
maybe it was his punishment that he had to be the one to kill or torture you.
theo’s grip on his wand faltered as he looked at you with a mixture of horror and heartbreak. he seemed to be struggling not just with what he was being asked to do, but with the shattered remnants of the person he used to be.
bellatrix’s patience wore thin, her frustration evident as she waved her wand dismissively. “enough of this pathetic display,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “the boy is clearly too weak for this task.”
“no!” theo shouted, his voice cracking. “i can’t— i won’t—” his wand dropped to the floor, clattering against the stone with a finality that seemed to reverberate through the room.
the room erupted into chaos as bellatrix’s fury reached its peak. she turned on theo with a rage that was almost as palpable as your own pain. narcissa tried to intervene, her voice pleading, but it was clear that the darkness had already taken hold.
but before she was able to mutter a curse, to torture or kill theo right in front of your eyes, harry, ron and hermione came running in the room, wands raised they started firing spells.
it took you a moment longer to get up. you and theo held eye contact, the boy just a crumpled mess on the floor in front of you. you reached out your hand and took his wand, disarming bellatrix, who began screaming.
the fight was short and unforgiving as the malfoys were throwing spells. draco was struggling to keep up with harry's quick movements and theo did not even make an attempt to stand up. instead he kept his eyes trained on you.
dobby appeared suddenly, calling you to him to bring you to safety, after he had let a chandelier fall onto bellatrix who had held a knife to hermione's throat.
you stepped forward once more, kneeling in front of theo, who looked up at you with curiosity, just hoping you would be taking him with you.
"i will never forgive you" you muttered instead and all hope left his face and heart. you healed the cut on his cheek with a move of his own wand. "you should've killed me and maybe i could've been able to"
you did not look back again as you ran across the room to your friends. you just left him there, on the ground in malfoy manor, as you took dobby's hand and followed your friends into the uncertain.
one heart shattering realisation left with you that day.
theo's gaze would haunt your nightmares. but the possibility of his death would haunt your dreams, as you could only forgive him if he didn't survive.
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