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oceantornadoo · 5 hours ago

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ch7 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: oral sex both ways

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John Price thrives on routine. His days are filled with meetings and bloodshed, negotiations and betrayal. Routine keeps him sane.

Unfortunately, that resolution crumbled the moment he gained a wife. It’s getting harder and harder to leave in the morning, to ignore the fluttering of your eyelashes as you feign sleep. That’s what he blames for this break in routine.

The morning after, he stays for ten minutes instead of five. Counts the ticks of the old clock in the corner of his room as he memorizes the scent of your skin. You always end up with your head in the crook of his neck, legs tangled around his torso. He’s never been much of a back sleeper, but now it’s the last thing he cares about. It’s the sound of your breathing, the plushness of your skin, the brush of your chest against his. When he eventually gets up, he doesn’t look at the bed until he’s ready. If he glanced back at your eyes in half-slits, shifting closer to his pillow to soak up the remaining warmth he left in the bed, he would never leave the room.

At night, though, he succumbs to his weakness. He creates a new routine.

It’s the start of a new week after the getting-off confession. John had business in Glasgow over the weekend, lonely and cold in his hotel bed, but now he’s back.

“So Laswell sent me the contract. I definitely have enough to pay in full, but I’m thinking of paying half and then doing installments for the rest so I can have enough for immediate repairs. What do you-John?” John’s nodding along to your rant, disappearing under the covers to the place he’s been thinking about all weekend. The blanket’s a bit heavy, limiting his breathing, but it’s worth it for the sight of your clothed cunt, waiting for him.

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.” Instead of following his orders, you peel back the cover until his head peeks out. “What are you doing?” He rubs circles into your thighs, reveling in their softness. John moves upwards, teasing the fabric of your pajama shorts. “You miss me this weekend?” He murmurs, not sure if he’s talking to his wife or her cunt. Both seem happy to see him, if that’s any consolation.

“No, I actually got the best sleep of my- hey!” He shoves his face into the triangle of your lap, sniffing with wonder. “Fuck, I missed ya.” You’re silent at his admission, but your hand finds a hold in his hair. “You did?” It’s soft and unsure, forcing him to rip his focus away from your pussy. “I did.” You bite your lip adorably. You tug him forward, gripping his scalp hard, until his face is in front of yours.

“Maybe next time, you take me with you.” Absolutely not. He was meeting with a new prospective manufacturer, shady and dangerous. He was not putting you in any sort of danger. John shakes his head, heart clenching as your face falls. “Not the kind of place fer you, baby. Gonna let me eat you out now?” You nod, but your face is still hard with repressed emotion. He kisses your forehead, trailing down to your cheek, then nose. “Give us a kiss then.” It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed him first, the notion sending blood straight to his cock. The kiss is short and sweet. Can’t believe how quickly you’ve gotten him under your spell. Two bloody weeks. He pulls away, a final kiss laid to your jaw. “Keep talkin’. Don’t mind me.”

The new routine continues for weeks. He gets you off a different way every night, from fingers to tongue to plain old grinding. And then he goes to sleep with you tucked to his side, taking care of himself in the morning. John needs you to be the one to ask to fuck, to reciprocate. The alternative leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Plus, every time he gets you off, you fall asleep immediately, like it’s the only way you’ll go to bed. It’s terribly endearing.

A month in, he starts noticing changes. The furniture in the sitting room, for one. They used to be 18th century relics, designed to make sure a guest didn’t overstay their welcome. Except now they’re eclectic, blue and green against the cream walls. The couches look comfortable, like you could spend a whole day there. The paintings change as well, from Rembrandt to Monet and Picasso. The impressionist works, blues and greens and yellows, work well with the new furniture, making his flat seem like a home. When he asks you, all you do is shrug and say something smart about updating his old man apartment. He leaves bite marks on your thighs that night.

It’s a beautiful Friday night when John gets home early, around 9. He usually gets text updates from Terrance, your commandeered security guard that Price assigned to you full time, about your movements. You’ll usually get home at 7, but nothing yet. Two hours late. He calls Terrance and gets his voicemail. Highly unusual. Calmly, he presses on your contact's name, and it goes to voicemail. Three times.

Fingers shaking, he calls Kyle.

“Sir?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“My fuckin’ wife, Garrick.”

“Isn’t she with Terrance?” “No one’s answerin’ their goddamn phone.” Gaz sighs on the other end, like this is an inconvenience and not his wife they’re talking about. Keys click, then a mouse, before Gaz answers. “They’re at the bookstore. Been there since this mornin’, sir.” John drags a hand down his face, then grabs the keys to the car he barely uses.

“Garrick, this is the last time you take more than three seconds t’ know where she is. I want a full team on ‘er at all times. I won’t hesitate t’ assign someone else as my Head of Security, someone who isn’t lettin’ their judgement take over their goddamn job. Copy?” He hasn’t dressed down one of his men, especially Kyle, but he’s tired of the man’s judgement on this marriage. What’s done is done. “Yessir.” John hangs up, too miffed to say goodbye. He’s got a wife to find.

Your bookstore is coming along well. It’s been over a month since you’ve been married, a month of John’s fingers and tongue loosening you in more ways than one. You swear you’ve developed stronger thigh muscles, simply from the orgasms he coaxes from you night after night. And then he just goes to sleep. You’ve felt his cock in fleeting touches, brushing against your thigh or hard in his lap as you grind on him. He never takes it out, never drags your hand in that grueling way men do with shady eyes and slimy smirks. Every night, he asks you if you hate him, and every night, your lie convinces him less and less.

And every night, you think of how adamant he was against you joining him. His insistence that it “wasn’t the kind of place for you.” Your old problem with him has faded, a mess of childhood fears rolled into new ones. In its place are your insecurities, the word bastard floating through your head every time you think of his rejection. The clause in the marriage contract. It rolls together into a simple thought: he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s barely let you in on his business, content to stick with late night chats and orgasms. It should be fine, it should be what you wanted, but instead you feel a hollow hole in your heart where the word ‘friends’ lives. Even friends should share their secrets.

But back to the bookstore. Your new baby. This first month was full of cleaning, dusting out odd corners and greasing creaky door hinges. You listed a hiring notice on online job boards, looking for an assistant to help with the grunt work. Which landed you Phil, a wonderful addition to the team. He was around your age, an American with sandy blond hair. Handsome in a basic way, something you noted and never thought of again. Terrance ran a background check on him, something you gladly consented to, and insisted on helping you interview him. It took a week of recon, but he was officially your new assistant as of two weeks ago. An amazing help around the store, handy with tools. You’d told Phil that you were the daughter of a lord, a minor lie to explain the bodyguard. He shrugged it off, the ex-pat seemingly used to the oddities of London.

Now that the space had been cleared, it was finally time to paint. Terrance insisted that he couldn’t help too much, his main duty too important, but with the help of Phil, you convinced him to paint the walls with you. You all left your phones in the half-fixed office, donning plastic sheets to protect from paint splatter. Your business plan, formed from your downtime during the day and shaped by your late-night conversations with John, was to have a store section and a community section. The community section would be at the front, with a beautiful light blue accent wall, perfect for book influencers. It would be surrounded by comfy couches and warm lighting, complete with a cafe space you intended to build out. Your idea reminded you of the library waiting hours away, with its own fireplace and furniture. You decided to recreate that cozy feeling and bring it to the public.

Farther into the building there would be bigger shelves for rows and rows of books, organized by type. The color scheme was influenced by the one in your home, as you decided to hand paint metal shelves light blues, greens, and yellows. Most would be bought, but you were planning a book drive far out for people to donate old books and get discounts on new ones. It’s an idea you had wanted to do in Manchester but never got around to.

Now that the front of the store was cleared out and bare, it was time to paint. The hours fly by as you paint the light blue wall while Phil and Terrance work on a cream wall on the other side. When you blink, the sun is already down, and your watch is flashing 10PM at you.

“Guys it’s almost ten! I think we ought to lay down the brushes for tonight.” Phil opened his mouth to respond but is cut off by a harsh pounding at the locked front door. It was supposed to be clear, but there was newspaper on all of your windows to prevent the glass from getting paint on it. Frowning, you moved to open the door, but Terrance stopped you with his arm out, his other hand reaching for his gun. “Go into the office, ma’am.” You followed his command reluctantly, Phil following on your heels as you went into the back office. It didn’t have any windows, so it was a space you did not want to be in for a while. Phil looked nervous, running his hand through his hair and tapping his foot on the ground.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Phil. Probably one of the neighbors complaining about our music.” You insisted on a jam session as you painted, blasting music from a speaker you stole from the Castle. “Shady things happen in London no matter what time, boss.” You shrug, picking up your phone to quell your nerves. A glance at your notifications explains everything.

Oh no.

You burst from the office, phone already returning one of your many missed calls. That’s when you ran into your husband, face hitting his hard chest with a harsh oof. “Christ, sweetheart, gave me a near heart attack.” John steadied your shoulders with his large hands, anchoring you in his grip. His brow was furrowed, eyes crinkling in worry as he scanned you up and down like he was looking for injuries. “You didn’t answer-” “Everything good out here?” Fuck. Phil.

“Who are you?” It was a tone you’d never heard come out of John’s mouth. You imagined it was his mafia man voice, gruff and short like he had a better place to be. John shoves you behind him, reaching for his gun. You rolled your eyes, hand covering his to stop a potential shoot-out.

“John, he’s my-” “Assistant, sir. Good to put a name to the face, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You could practically hear Phil winking, laying on the Southern charm. You wrestled out of John’s grip, stepping out from behind his back. Phil’s hand was out for a handshake, but John hadn’t taken it, scanning the man up and down with suspicious eyes. “Funny, ‘cause I’ve never heard about you.” John tore his gaze away to catch yours, eyes slanted in anger. “I don’t have to tell you everything, John. I’ve got my own life, you know.” He looked almost hurt at your words, which couldn’t be true. Sure, you were fucking, but it’s not like this was a normal marriage. You knew he wouldn’t have wanted Phil working with you, just on the basis of him being a man. You didn’t want to be micromanaged by your own husband, so you simply hadn’t got around to telling him.

“C’mere.” John tugged you towards the office, his grip hard. You could hear Terrance telling Phil to go home and wait for an update. Probably for the best. You imagined Terrance following him out, then debriefing with John’s driver about how much of an asshole their boss was.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” John asked, arms crossed and face red. He’d shut the office door but remained standing since there wasn’t any furniture yet. “Because I knew you’d get like this.” You spit out, crossing your arms to mirror his. “Fuckin’ concerned fer the security of my wife? Tha’s a bad reaction?” You took a step back from him, crossing your arms tighter so you could pinch your waist, a reminder to stay strong.

“Controlling and caveman. This is my place of work, John, and you’ve embarrassed me in front of my coworker.” He doesn’t meet your eye, staring at the door so hard it might burst into flames. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, muscles trembling from restraint. “Ya don’t realize how many enemies I have. Every person needs t’ be checked.” Did he think you were stupid? “I had Terrance check him out. I know you don’t want me around your work, but I’m not an idiot, John.”

His rejection of your offer to travel with him weeks ago had stung more than you cared to admit. He clearly didn’t trust you, only seeing you as someone to fuck around with. You didn’t realize how far that lack of trust went.

“He should’ve reported it to Gaz.” John mutters. “He did. I know that for a fact.” John ran a hand through his hair, then dipped down to tug at his tie. “He didn’t fuckin’ tell me. Christ, he’s worse than I thought.” You wanted to ask what that meant, but you bit your lip instead. He obviously didn’t want to tell you.

“Look, I know I’m a bastard and you had that goddamn clause in the contract, but you can trust me. I’m not running around behind your back.” That got John’s gaze to snap back to you, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Tha’s wha’ ya think this is about?” You nod, suddenly unsure. “Sweetheart, that was Gaz’s idea. T’ see if you’d argue. I intended for you to ask fer another cheatin’ clause fer me, but ya didn’t so I let it go. ‘S nothin’ like tha’. Plus, I didn’t know ya then. I know ya now.” Oh.

“So you trust me?” What about the trip? You wanted to ask, but you figure that would show your hand too much. John nods slowly, uncrossing his hands to put them on his hips. “Don’t care tha’ yer a bastard. ‘M not fuckin’ anyone else, either. I’m just concerned fer yer safety.” He takes a few steps towards you, gauging your reaction to see if you step back. You don’t, uncrossing your arms and praying they don’t shake. He grabs your hands in his own, blue eyes swimming with openness. There are so many things you want to ask him about: your childhood, his father, the future. They all fall to the wayside when he leans down to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “If I didn’t trust ya, ya wouldn’t sleep in my bed.” He kisses your forehead, then cheek, before pulling back. “I need ya t’ believe me.” He demands it seriously. A sudden rush of affection hits your heart. He looks so truthful, so concerned, and you want to show him that same care back.

You lower to your knees. John steps back, unsure. “Sweetheart, ya don’t have to.” You shake your head, beckoning him to come near. “I want to.”

John tugs off the blazer he’s wearing, folding it into a light pillow. He squats down on his haunches, eyes on yours. A warm hand brushes your knees, urging you up so he can slip the blazer under them. He then stands; blue eyes dark as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Go’on, baby. Take whatever you want.”

You reach for his black belt, unfastening it with trembling hands. It unclips with ease, and John’s hands, hairy and veiny and strong, cloud your vision as he unfurls it from his belt loops. You continue downwards, undoing the midnight black of his button. You unzip slowly, licking your lips in anticipation. His fingers brush back the creases on your forehead, trailing down to brush the shell of your ear. “Feel ok?” You nod at his question, cupping him through his boxers. John releases a sharp exhale, a heady sense of power coming over you. You work the pants down fully to give you room, petting him this way and that.

Finally, you peel down the dark fabric of his boxers. He’s hairy but well-maintained, similar to his fuzzy torso you’ve felt in bed. His cock is thick and heavy, wet with precum as it slaps against his upper thigh. You tuck his boxers down to give you room, then start exploring. Kitten licks to the base of him, his hair tickling your nose. Your hand joins you to squeeze his balls, eliciting a sharp groan. John tugs on your hair, more out of instinct than control. “You feel ok?” You throw his words back at him, a cheshire smile growing as he moans again.

“Christ, those fuckin’ hands.” He responds. You move to start stroking, licking him from base to tip. He tastes like salt and musk, but clean with the scent of pine. It’s the most addicting scent on earth. After he’s wet and leaking, you steady yourself with a hand on his upper thigh and the other on your husband’s cock.

You finally take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip. You hum and his grip on your hair tightens. “‘M gonna fuck yer mouth sometime.” You let go of him with a pop, leaning backwards. “Not tonight?” He shakes his head, reaching down to pump his cock in your absence. “I’m a few strokes from cummin’, sweetheart. You look too goddamn good on yer knees.” That earns a grin from you and a renewed sense of vigor.

You suck him hard this time, your hand making up the length you can’t cover. You work yourself into an easy rhythm, up and down as he cradles your face. It’s much softer than you’ve ever experienced from a man, careful and protective. He wasn’t kidding about how close he is, harsh pants emitting faster and faster from his chest. “Where d’ya want me, baby?” You don’t respond, keeping him in your mouth. All you do is blink sweetly, willing your eyes to look bigger than usual. “Fuckin’ perfect, my wife.” That sends a jolt to your heart, and you have to stop yourself from accidentally biting down. Instead of responding, you stroke faster and faster. His abs tense, and you pull back just slightly, letting him coat your tongue and lips. It’s salty but not bitter, a marker of how fucking healthy he is. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly. His thumb brushes off a bit from your nose, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck hard, like you did the night he first fingered you. He continues cleaning you up, careful and quiet in his movements. John tucks himself back into his pants and offers you a hand to help you off the floor.

“Your knees sore?” He whispers. You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed despite not having taken your clothes off. “C’mere.” He tugs you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. “We good?” He asks. You want to say no, want to ask him all the questions swirling around in your head, but all you do is nod and hold him closer.

In the car, John’s hand on your thigh, your phone vibrates. It’s Phil.

Everything ok?

Yep! Marital problems, all good.

Your husband is intense.

He’s a sweetheart for me, all that matters 🙂

Good to know. See you tomorrow.

His tone is odd, but you shove that thought from your mind. John squeezes your hand, and you tuck your phone away, content to focus on your husband. Phil is the farthest thought from your mind.

um. smut. now they're like friends with problems? idk enemies got boring.

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vanillarosekiss · 2 days ago

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♡ p!link ♡

can you tell i'm really craving him right now?

warnings: smut, bsfdad!simon x reader, size kink if you read into it, age gaps, not considered very ethical to fuck your bsf's dad but... :b

He was so hot. Every time you came round your best friend's house, because her dad was so accompanying, you could never take your eyes off him. You'd often go home and touch yourself to the little interactions you'd had with him the previous day, which were all innocent of course. He was just so much bigger than you, so strong, and he was extremely good looking for a guy his age. A small part of you was self conscious of the fact it was deemed morally wrong to think of him that way, you felt like it was a crime against your best friend. Although.. it wasn't like anything was going to actually happen, right?

Another Saturday night rolled around and you arrived at their house, not bothering to knock before you went inside because they were used to you coming over so much; you even knew where the spare key was.

It got quite late fast, and after a long girly talk of boys, updating each other on love life's and doing face masks whilst eating a takeaway, you got changed into your pyjamas. You both slept in her room, usually watching shitty, low-budget romcoms before drifting off into a drowsy sleep, but tonight you were restless. You decided to wait until she was asleep, and got out of bed, careful not to make too much noise.

Going downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water, you made the awful mistake of accidentally bumping into her dad. Simon. The sheer size of him made it almost impossible for you to not lose your balance, and he grabbed your shoulders so that you wouldn't fall over.

"Are you ok? Sorry, I didn't see you" he said calmly, checking you were alright.

You blushed a little, and nodded without saying anything. If it wasn't obvious that you had a thing for him before, it definitely was now. He was bound to notice soon anyways, your night clothes becoming slightly more revealing each week.

Simon glanced down, noticing how much of your cleavage was on display, for him. He kept his hands on your shoulders, one hand toying with the light pink elastic strap of your pyjama top.

"You don't have anything else to wear?" he asked, in what you thought was a judgemental tone.

"I- No I do, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. like.." you rambled and trailed off, flushed with embarrassment.

"M'not complaining, love, don't worry your pretty head" he said reassuringly, before moving behind you and gently leading you into his room to the ensuite bathroom, lower hand grazing your back lightly.

"What are you-" you began, turning but only to be met with a view of his chest.

"You want this, yeah? I'm not stupid, I can tell when a pretty thing like you wants something."

You hesitated, before giving a small, unsure nod.

"Gonna need more than that, sweeth'art."

"Yes. Please."

"Good girl." he praised, before locking the door and stripping you down completely naked for him, making you turn and admiring your body.

"So pretty. Wanted this for so long, haven't you?"

You were still shy, and stood not really knowing what to do with your hands.. hell, with your entire body.

He took you carefully and got you down on your knees, before pulling his already leaking cock from his boxers. It was big, too big. It would never fit. He could immediately see the panic in your eyes, and tried to calm you down.

"S'alright, baby. I'll go gentle on you, I promise. You tell me if it hurts too much, or you get uncomfortable, okay?"

You nod, swallowing a little anxiously.

The next thing you know, you were swallowing his cock, as he guided your head down carefully. His hands caressed your hair, in an almost soothing way, so as to make you feel safe with him. You were definitely not as anxious anymore. Just took a little praise and soft guidance from Simon.

He pulled you back before he came, making you sit on his thighs before plunging into your already soaking core, stretching you out in ways you never imagined you could be. It was hard to take at first, but it quickly became pleasurable, him using you like a little toy. Thrusting you up and down on his large cock, hands grabbing at your waist and squeezing you as he hit your g-spot over and over again.

"God you feel amazing." he groaned, thrusting fastening at the sound of your preciously soft moans. He adored how little and delicate you were, so pliable in his hands.

It was safe to say that the next day, his looks and subtle lingering touches were no longer innocent. You were his pretty little secret, and unless you no longer wanted him, it would stay that way.

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veggiesxxx · 19 hours ago

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When they get jealous (HCs)

Rafayel (1/4)

- He's not afraid to show you how affected he is by it

- he absolutely will complain and believes you're abandoning him

- a dehydrated fish, 'drying out'

- when you get irritated by the pouty whining he'll apologise

- will subtly bring up your past together as a silent plea to not leave him

- he exaggerates what happened that made him jealous for sympathy points

- doesn't mean whatever he says about you going to leave him— would rather paint an ugly picture and sign it than have you more than 3 feet away from him.

- take care of him pls (he says with watery eyes ☹️)

Sylus (2/4)

- Jealous? No, not him.

- Definitely not him.

- acts like he was just concerned about his kitten's safety, thats why he's brooding around with Mephisto on his shoulder

- when in reality he's afraid you're gonna leave him.

- will not let go of your hand after the incident for at least a week

- insists you wear the brooch he gave you every day after that— wear it in your hair if you have to— even if it doesn't match

- wants it to be the first thing you tell people about when you meet them

- in his head, it goes: "hi. look at this thing my lover gave me. Yeah, *blocks them*"

Zayne (3/4)

- it's him. he's jealous.

- you can't accept gifts from guys. that's a no no.

- if you do happen to accept something while he's not there, trust me, he'll find out

- he will mail the gift back to the sender with a polite restraining order

- if you get upset with him for it, he will just smile at you and pet your head. He's already prepared for it. He took an off-day to spend time with you. He knows his little hunter is smart enough to realise he sent the gift back.

- he doesnt mind listening to you scold and berate him, only occasionally giving you some intelligent-ass remark or response that forces you to pause

- his remark will make you get more pissed at him and scold him more indignantly

- to be honest, he does it on purpose. He just likes to hear your voice.

Xavier (4/4)

- sulk. sulk. sulk. that's all that's on his mind

- he's clueless on how else to respond. you surely can't expect him to actually be upfront about his feelings, right? it's much easier to just wait for his adorable star to comfort him.

- and it makes him feel better when he knows you can tell when he's upset— and you don't tell him how obvious he is either

- he thinks he hides it well, actually. And he'll regard you as a really good significant other because you know what he's feeling

- he has a low tolerance for jealousy, so after a few times of this in succession, sprinkling him with affection isn't enough to stop his sulking

- will take his anger out on anything other than you

- wishes he could punch the other man/men in the face

- why do people need to be spared if they're as dangerous as wanderers?

- dangerous as in going to steal his beloved's heart, of course. in his opinion, thats worse than a wanderer.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

(Click on their names to link to respective POV oneshot)

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anisespice · 5 hours ago

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“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev. pt.2

one synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ kaku, rin, koko ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: koko’s is short but FOR A GOOD REASON I SWEAR lol i'm just happy it finally got written after MONTHS of keeping yall waiting. thank you once more for your patience and eagerness to read, hope you enjoy! :)))))

Stumbling through the entry of his home with the help of the Haitani brothers, a drunk KAKUCHO groaned after they roughly tossed him onto his couch without an ounce of care, the youngest dusting off his hands and his counterpart adjusting his suit with a click of his tongue. “Can’t believe your light-weight ass let that idiot talk you into downing a whole bottle of bourbon.”

Rindou scoffed. “I can’t believe we got stuck with taking him home.”

Ran shrugged, heading for the kitchen. “Eh. Rather him than the walking pepto-bismol still passed out at the bar.”

Kakucho gave another groan, lopsided with his face buried in the cushions. While his brother prepared a glass of water and pain pills, Rindou occupied himself by watching the wallowing man through a pitied lens. Shaking his head, he sighed, “Never seen him drink that much…Think something’s going on?”

“In our line of work, I can only imagine what isn’t stressing him out.”

“Yeah but…look at ‘em,” he gestured. “It’s pathetic.”

“I can hear you...” Kakucho eventually spoke, although muffled in the cushions.

“I’m aware.” Rindou replied.

Ran snorted, setting the glass on the coffee table and the bottle of meds right next to it. He then leaned down to turn the dead-weighted drunk over with a grunt, placing him on his side. “There. Don’t need you choking on your vomit,” he pointed at the table, “take those and drink that whole glass. Call Koko tomorrow if you aren’t dead.”

Kakucho groaned once more, sluggishly reaching for the glass and nearly knocking it over. Rindou hissed as he quickly grabbed it before it tipped over. With an irritated huff he grabbed the front of the younger male’s button up, and hauled him up to face him forward. It was difficult to keep him still, and Ran wasn’t looking to help anytime soon as he smirked at the display. Rindou cursed him and everything under the moon until he finally managed to sit Kakucho upright long enough to put the glass in his hands, guiding it to his mouth.

He grunted, annoyed, “Drink.”

The dark-haired gangster stared longingly into the rippling water, cheeks flushed, lips pouted. His mind began to wander, his one good eye glazed over as he gently swayed to silence. Rindou impatiently tapped his foot, “The hell’s wrong with you, drink it already.”

“Patience, otouto. He probably doesn’t remember how.” Ran mocked, earning a side-eye before Kakucho proved him wrong by gulping down the entire glass. Once finished, he let it slip from his hands, landing on the ground with a sharp clatter. Ran clicked his tongue again, “You were supposed to take a pill with that.”

“Fuck the pill..” Kakucho muttered, slowly falling back down to his side and curling up as best as his long legs would allow. “Leave me alone..”

Rindou turned on his heel. “Don’t have to tell me twice-”

“Actually, now I wanna know. Someone like you doesn’t indulge our activities, let alone participate. So, what gives?”

Abruptly stopping in his tracks, Rindou turned back to shoot his brother an incredulous look, shocked he would reopen the door that was closing. He was ignored as Ran leaned against the back of the couch wearing a sly grin, feeling particularly nosy all of the sudden. Having never witnessed this side of his superior, it piqued his curiosity. Kakucho didn’t respond, didn’t even move. Ran would’ve guessed he passed out if not for the occasional hiccup he heard.

Rindou sighed heavily, since they didn’t appear to be leaving any time soon, coming back to sit in a chair with crossed arms. Ran continued to push until he found the correct button.

“Was it something that happened on the job? Mikey scold you for not restocking his snack cabinet? The dry cleaners not press your suits correctly–Let me know when I’m getting warmer.”

“I said leave..me alone…” Kakucho slurred, “I wanna [hic] be alone…”

Ran hummed, unphased. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve mentioned. C’mon, we got you home safely, I feel like we’ve earned an explanation on what made the pristine number three fly off the handle like this.”

No amount of teasing was going to break Kakucho. At least, not when he’s sober. The aforementioned lightweight always regulated how much he drank because of how decomposed he became, how sensitive he got. Despite his best efforts to remain under control, he was slowly losing his grasp of it the longer those two knuckleheads were in his home. He didn’t want to share what got him so worked up, it was nobody’s business but his own. Sadly, his resolve was fragile from the start, and all it took was a small gust of wind to have it come crumbling down…and Rindou’s input came barging in like a raging storm.

“Bet it’s about [_____], isn’t it?”

Kakucho’s eyes nearly burst from his skull, body moving before his brain could catch up as he practically shot up from the couch like a rocket and borderline tackled the lavender-haired man, knocking both him and the chair backward, landing with a harsh thud. The sudden movement caught the brothers off guard, Rin more than Ran for obvious reasons. Kakucho grabbed the younger Haitani by his collar and began shaking him roughly, a furious look upon his flushed face as he practically snarled in Rindou’s. “Don’t you ever say her name, you hear me?! I will slit your fucking throat, you sonofabitch–”

“Whoa, hey, take it easy,” Ran swiftly disengaged Kakucho, catching him in a headlock and stepping backward to separate them. But, if he thought it was going to be that easy, he had another thing coming.

Kakucho elbowed Ran in his side. It did little damage, only making the older male clench his teeth and eat it, still trying to hold him back and calm him down. They shuffled around for a moment until Kakucho made move to bite into Ran’s forearm with all his might. Though the pain was dulled thanks to his jacket sleeve, it still shocked him enough to loosen his grip, leaving just enough wiggle room to escape his grasp and reel his arm back to throw a mean swing. However, due to him still being very much intoxicated, he missed him by a longshot when Ran just took a small side-step out of the way, sending Kaku to stumble and crash into a side table. Luckily the lamp was there to cushion some of the impact.

Rindou clutched his stretched-out collar, brows furrowed as watched the scene unfold from his position on the floor. “..the fuck was that?”

The ravenette moaned on the floor, but not in pain from the fall. No doubt he’d feel in the morning, but all of his agony came from within at the mere utterance of your name. He laid there in the heaps of broken shards and began to weep, so deeply from his soul that it stunned both brothers to an awkward silence. His body trembled with each cry, mumbles of your name smothered in with the wails as they echoed through the empty house. They watched him for a moment before exchanging looks. Ran made a silent gesture to leave, but Rindou merely shook his head with another sigh. There was no way they could leave now, thanks to him…

Scrambling up to stand, Rindou gestured for his brother to handle one side while he came to the other. Together they were able to heave their superior off the floor, careful not to cut him or get cut from the scattered lamp pieces. He weakly fought against them, still blubbering like a newborn until he eventually gave up, most likely from exhaustion. They hauled him back to the couch again, only this time setting him down gentler than they did the first time. Kakucho’s face fell into his hands as he continued to sob, shoulders shaking as he poured hours' worth of pent-up emotion right onto the palms. Ran scratched the back of his neck, mildly perturbed. Rindou stood with his arms crossed, frown heavy. “See? Pathetic.”

“Careful. He might attack you again.” Ran warned sarcastically, Kakucho rapidly shook his head in protest.

“I-I won’t.. Forgive me, I don’t..I don’t know what came over me..” he said, meekly, ashamed. “I just..when you said her name, I remembered she…s-she..”

Ran’s eyes widened a fraction, “What, she died?”

Kakucho shot him a tearful glare, sniffling as he firmly said, “No. Don’t say such a thing so casually.”

He threw his hands up. “Hey, don’t blame me, ‘m not the one who suplexed a lamp because my ex’s name was dropped. Nearly ripped my poor, little Rin’s head off, too.”

“Shuddup, man.”

“I’m just saying that-”

“She had a baby.” Kakucho voiced, extinguishing the argument and stunning them yet into another silence. Rindou’s arms dropped to his sides whilst Ran’s brows raised to his hairline. “And...I’m almost certain it’s mine. No..I am certain.”

His words hung heavily in the air. So much so, both brothers had to take a seat. Rindou stared at Kakucho while Ran stared at the wall, speechless. Until he eventually found the words. “Damn. Don’t know whether to say congrats or condolences. How’d you find that out?”

Kakucho sighed, drying his face on his sleeve. “I had business in Kyoto to attend to earlier today. When I finished, I stopped by the cherry blossoms, where we...used to go together. That's when I saw her...further down the trail. She wasn’t alone.”

The visual flooded his foggy mind like high beams, the sight of you wearing a beautiful dress he’d never seen before, glowing heavenly beneath the sun and fallen cherry blossoms. He felt as if he was standing in memory, as if he was in a reality where he was still yours. Kakucho remembered how his feet had a mind of their own, forcing him forward to get closer to you, to speak to you after all this time apart. But, his bubble bursts the second you crouched down with open arms, ready to embrace the child running back to you after attempting to catch falling petals. He froze. You scooped up the child with ease, showering the small boy in kisses to the point his squeals flowed happily in the soft breeze. Kakucho felt his chest tighten then twist, knees buckling the second he saw those bright, crimson eyes staring back at you…it was like seeing an image of his youth. He should've approach you right then and there, to demand answers, to demand explanation, anything to soothe this ache.

But, he didn’t.

He was afraid. Afraid of what you’d think, of what you’d say. You kept this from him for a reason, didn’t you? All these years, and he found out completely by happenstance. Had he not gone out there, would he have ever known? Would you have told him? Maybe you didn’t think he was fit to be a father, maybe you did this to keep the child safe. Maybe you no longer believed that he could keep either of you safe…

It tore at him, from the inside out. No matter how he tried to ignore it, the ache grew into a throb, and the throb into a chasm that only the bottom of a bottle could satiate. And even then, all he could think was how much he failed.

The brothers exchanged another look, having no idea the kind of demon their superior was dealing with. Despite not caring too much about it, they still felt bad. What man wouldn’t be devastated, especially given his background and how he grew up. Ran gave a low whistle. “That’s…rough.”

“Yeah. Wish you said that instead of trying to kill me.”

Kakucho rubbed his face, embarrassed. “I apologize...truly.”

“Tsk. Apologize to the lamp.” He shrugged it off, not holding a grudge over it. “You know, you can just reach out to her. Even if it’s to hear her say she wants nothing to do with you, that’s closure at least. Because this, what you’re doing now, is pathe-”

“Pathetic, I know, I heard you the first damn time.” Kakucho pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the effects of the alcohol start to simmer out, and a headache closing in. “I suppose.. you’re right. If she doesn’t want me in her life or his then…at least she’ll know I’ll always be here if she needs me.”

Ran offered an approving nod, opening his mouth to say his two cents only for his phone to interrupt him. The specific ringtone made him close his eyes in immediate annoyance: Sanzu. Sighing heavily through his nose, he reached into his pocket and answered, “What-”

“YOU BASTARDS JUST LEFT ME HERE?!”

RINDOU was used to the stares he’d get at the gym, but this was new for him.

After completing another hundred reps on the bench press, during his cooldown he noticed his small audience gaping at him in awe from a nearby machine. The little boy gasped at being caught, ducking behind a weight twice his size before peeking over it, only to completely disappear when he saw Rin still looking his way.

He huffed through his nose, amused. But, he elected to ignore it. No harm in letting the little guy get some inspiration for future gym goals. After a quick break, Rindou prepared for his next set, setting his water down and adjusting his headphones. Laying down on the bench, about to lift the bar off the rest, he noticed the little boy in his peripheral, peeking over the weight once more, large eyes wide with curiosity. He couldn’t help the small grin tugging on his lips, prideful to have such innocent admiration compared to the usual thirst from onlookers he was accustomed to.

However, it made him wonder…whose kid was this?

There wasn’t a children’s area in this particular gym, let alone many that were brought, so someone had to be looking for him, right?…and there’s no telling how long the little boy’s been following him. The parent must be worried.

But it wasn’t his problem.

He was there to workout and leave, not worry about someone else’s ankle-bitter, no matter how adorable.

Unfortunately, Rindou made the mistake of peeking back at the boy, seeing him trying to imitate his form with his little arms, face scrunched in concentration and tongue sticking out. He nearly dropped the weight on himself at the sight, losing his own concentration. Kissing his teeth, he set the bar back on the rest, snapping the little boy from his focus. Although Rindou’s brow was furrowed, he wasn’t too annoyed at the interruption, sitting up to finally address his new fan.

“Oi. It’s impolite to stare.”

The boy flinched slightly, then looked down at his shoes in embarrassment. “'m s-sorry, mister…”

Rindou felt a pang in his chest. With an exhale, he stood from the bench and removed his headphones as he walked over to the kid. Crouching down to his level, he took note of how the boy struggled to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the bottom half of his shirt. “Hmph. Guess you can’t learn the correct form without watching someone else. You trynna build muscle, too, little man?”

Like flipping a switch, the boy’s eyes lit up as he nodded his head excitedly, tiny fists pumped. “Yeah! Wanna have huge muscles! Get big and strong like the heroes on TV!”

He raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh! But-But you’re bigger, mister! Like,” he extended his arms as wide as he could, “SUPER big.”

He grinned, smug. He liked this kid. “Damn right. But, you know, in order for me to stay this big and strong, I have to focus on my workout. And I can't really do that with you watching me like a hawk."

The little boy's mouth formed an 'o' before he covered it with his hands, sheepish as he looked at him with guilt, "Uh oh.."

Rindou shrugged, "t's fine, I ain't mad," creeped out, but he doesn't mention that. He looked around for a second, trying to see if there were any indication of someone appearing frantic or distraught. When he came up with nothing, he sighed, "How about this: Lemme finish my last set, and then you and I find your dad or something. Deal?"

The boy lit up once more, "C-Can I help?"

Rindou raised a brow, "Help, huh?" The boy nodded, eyes big and bright, and hopeful, and dammit. How can he say no to that face? He kissed his teeth, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure. You can...help keep count, I guess. How high can you count?"

"To a million!"

With a snort, Rindou merely shook his head, standing back to his full height to walk back to the bench with the ankle biter hot on his tail. How he ended up on babysitting duty was beyond him. But could be worse.

One set and a struggle to count past the number 30 later, Rindou held the boy's hand, who he eventually discovered was named Rintaro, as they scoped out the gym high and low to find his father. No matter how many men he pointed to, Rintaro claimed none of them.

Rindou was starting to grow frustrated.

There were still some workouts he hadn't gotten to yet, and this was eating up time. The younger Haitani had half a mind to just drop the kid off at the help desk, but every time it crosses his mind, he makes the mistake again of making eye contact with the boy and his big ole eyes. He looked happy to just be holding his hand, as if Rindou held up the moon and stars. It was...a little off-putting he won’t lie, but adorable, nonetheless. He couldn't just abandon him, even if he wanted to.

He sighed, “Seriously, kid, did your old man drop you here and leave? We should’ve found him by now…”

The boy blinked up at him, confused. “What old man?”

“No, not an old man, I mean your dad—Look, where was the last place you saw him before you wandered off?”

“Oh. I don’t have a dad.”

Rindou stopped. Then, with a swiftness he scooped up Rintaro by his underarms and held him at eye level, glaring at him with a twitching brow. “What.”

The boy sheepishly grinned. “I'm here with my mommy...”

“You mean to tell me we’ve been walking in circles for almost ten minutes, and you were just not gonna share that? Why didn’t you say something??”

“Because…” he fiddled with his fingers, looking down. “I like being with you…it’s fun…”

Well, shit.

Just like that, the anger evaporated. Rindou kissed his teeth, setting the boy back on the ground, crouching down to his level. Then, ruffling his hair, he said, “Alright, little man, no more games. Your ma’s probably worried to death about you. You said you're wanting to get strong to protect her, right?”

Rintaro nodded. Rindou continued, “Well you can’t protect her if you keep leaving her by herself, especially with all these meatheads around. You gotta stick by her, watch her back. And promise you won’t do this again. Okay?”

He nodded again, “Okay…”

“Okay, and?”

“And I promise…”

Rintaro sniffled, wiping his eyes with his fists. Rindou felt another pang in his chest, his intent not to make the kid cry. It’s not like it was his job to discipline him…

He ruffled the boy’s hair again, leaning downward so he could see his face. “Oi. No waterworks. Besides, you gotta be good so she'll bring ya back. You can't count for shit, but.. wouldn't mind having a spotter. What d'you say? You up for it?”

Like flipping a switch, Rintaro’s head perked up at the indication of not only getting to see him again but being a part of his routine. He nodded so hard, Rindou feared he’d give himself whiplash. Though, there was no hiding his grin. Yeah, he liked this kid. Reminded him of himself when he was that age…come to think of it…he looks sorta similar, too—

“Rinta!” Came a voice from afar, stressed and full of emotion.

“Mommy!” He answered, smile widening upon seeing you approach, arms extended out as he ran over to you. When Rindou stood to face the direction where the boy ran to, it felt like his world turned to slow motion, eyes narrowing in on the aforementioned mother—His ex.

He froze like a deer in headlights, shoulders tensed to where he could feel a cramp setting in. There was no way he was seeing this…no absolute shot in hell that you were here before him, hugging and kissing the kid he spent half an hour with, who allegedly didn’t have a dad, who just called you—“Mommy?”

At the sound of Rintaro’s confusion, it was then Rindou snapped from his daze and realized you had noticed him standing there, the two of you locking eyes; you looked equally horrified. And you were probably thinking the same thing he was.

Out of all the people…why’d it have to be you?

“I’m sorry, but this store is for grown ups with real money. I’m afraid I cannot accept this, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The little girl pouted angrily up at the woman, arms crossed in displeasure. How dare she say such a thing about her piggy bank, she didn’t even bother to count how much was inside. That was a months' worth of good behavior at school, a couple tooth fairy visits, and some Monopoly money, and she worked hard to get it.

“Look you hag. ’m not leavin’ til you hand over the necklace with the shinies and sparklies on it for my mama’s birfday. So, cough it up!”

The woman appeared revolted by such lack of decorum, hand over heart as she gaped down at the little girl, face reddening with anger. She waggled a finger, lip upturned as she scolded the child, threatening to have her escorted out by security, only for it to be shut down by the sound of the little girl blowing raspberries up at her. The woman gave a dramatic gasp, horrified at such bratty behavior. However, before she could even reach for the phone to dial the number for the security office, an unexpected guest decided to step in.

"Belinda, are you being bested by a child?"

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, full body turning towards the source to come face to face with one of the store's top investors, Kokonoi Hajime. Her skin grew pale in an instant, loss for words as she struggled to explain the embarrassing display he just walked in on. The little girl paused her taunting to gape up at the beautiful, shiny man before her, thinking a prince just popped right off a cover of a fairytale book. Draped in a stylish red kimono, with various jewels hanging off him like ornaments that twinkle beneath the warm lighting of the store, it's a wonder how he even made a place like this feel cheap. But what really caught her attention was his snow-white hair. It looked so silky, just begging to be braided and decorated with various bobs and barrettes. Maybe even some stickers–

"K-Kokonoi-san!" The woman exclaimed, startling the girl out of her daydream. Bowing deeply, forehead nearly touching her own knees, she disappeared behind the counter. Blinking widely at the perceived magic trick, the little girl craned her neck to see where she went, only to be disappointed that she didn’t actually disappear. "I-I wasn't informed you would be dropping in, s-sir. Please, excuse my rudeness."

"I was in the area," his gaze locked on the fetus at his shins. He points down at her. "Who is this?"

"I'm..not sure, sir. She's been causing a disturbance. Making a scene, demanding I let her purchase one of our display items with...board game currency."

The girl stomped around the corner to point at the still bowing woman. "I gave you money, now gimme the shiny! Those are the rules!"

Belinda peered up a little to squint at her, sneering as she spoke, "For the last time, you little miscreant, that money isn't real."

"It is, too! It's green! Money is green, you dumb hag!"

"You-!"

Kokonoi grinned, amused, "She has a point. Money is green, Belinda."

Said clerk shot up and eyed the white-haired man, flabbergasted. "S-Sir! You can't really be encouraging this obscenity, I mean, honestly! My job is to make sure nonsense like this is handled, and this little girl is disrupting the peace of this store."

"Mm. You getting worked up over some kid won’t resolve anything."

Belinda flushed a bright red of embarrassment once more. "Y-Yes. Yes, of course. My apologies." She bowed again.

Koko merely rolled his eyes, gesturing to the phone. “Just get security on the line. Someone’s gotta be looking for her by now.”

"No! 'm not leaving until you gimme mommy's birfday present!"

Kokonoi hummed, tilting his head in a teasing manner. "Too bad. That necklace isn't for sale. And it won’t be for a long time. Why don’t you start smaller, huh? Draw your mommy a picture or something."

She angrily pouted, pointing at her piggy bank on the counter. “I held Hammy all the way here, and his tummy’s full! Mommy says when his tummy’s full, I can buy whatever I want. And I. Want. That. Necklace.”

Koko’s brow twitched, leaning down to look her right in the eye as he grumbled. “Look, you little brat. I already told ya, it ain’t for sale. Now, be a good girl, and wait quietly until security comes to get you.”

The girl met his stare with a challenging one. This means war.

#🍁wasabi #HE'S A DAD #BOOGYWOOGYWOOGY #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev angst #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #rindou #kokonoi #kakucho

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solarhysm · 2 days ago

Text

DUST OF US - 06

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 4.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

If this is a dream, Jungkook doesn’t want to wake up. His eyes never leave your face as you tell him a story about you and your friends. After that kiss, you both decided to take a walk along the shore. Jungkook knows you’ve always liked the feeling of sand under your feet, even in the cold. He carries your boots, happy to do so, while you walk beside him, occasionally digging your toes into the sand.

He thought you would reject him when he kissed you out of nowhere. But you didn’t. Now, all he wants is to kiss you again. He’s dying to. But he doesn’t want to push his luck. If you want to kiss him, you will. He hopes you will. His eyes drop to your hand, brushing against his with every step. His fingers twitch. Not yet. Play it cool.

As if reading his mind, you hand him the bottle of soju you’ve been sharing, giving him something to do with his hands. He takes a sip and nods, silently thanking you.

“And Hwan ended up covered in Hyesun’s last meal,” you laugh, but he hasn’t been paying attention to the story. Jungkook is just smiling at the sound of your laughter. “But she’s a good friend. Even after Hyesun threw up on her, she kept taking care of her.”

“You’re pretty,” Jungkook whispers, and you freeze, eyes widening.

“I—You can’t say stuff like that out of nowhere,” you mumble, looking away to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Jungkook has always said what’s on his mind, whether people liked it or not. And you know that. Once you’re far enough from the nightclubs and prying eyes, the two of you sit on the sand, staring at the shore.

“Alright,” you sigh, pulling a plastic bag between you. “We’ve gotta finish all of this before the sun rises.” You challenge him, and he smirks.

“Easy.”

A soft smile stretches across his lips as he watches you take out two beers and another bottle of soju. You clink your drinks together and take a sip.

“I’m surprised you didn’t make friends in Japan,” you say, breaking the silence.

“I did, actually,” Jungkook replies, burying the bottom of his beer bottle in the sand. He pulls his legs against his chest and takes a deep breath. “Kentaro is visiting me next month. If you behave, I’ll introduce him to you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, licking your lips. His big brown eyes follow the way your tongue traces your lips before he looks away. He knows you want to ask something, and he tilts his head, encouraging you.

“Stop that,” you groan, and he chuckles.

“You want to ask me about girls?”

“I never said that,” you retort, hiding behind your beer.

“You don’t need to. It’s written all over your face,” Jungkook laughs, stretching out. “What about you?”

He likes that he can still read you so easily.

“You didn’t answer,” you say, tilting your head in his direction.

“Hm... I had my fair share of girls, to be honest. But not in the first couple of years.”

“Really?”

“Hm.” He hums again. “Wait, are we talking about serious relationship?”

“All type.” You reply, leaning on your elbows.

“I had… two serious relationships. And a bunch of flings. Mostly flings actually. The heart wasn’t there for more.”

“Two?” You ask like it’s all you keep in mind.

“Yeah. You and a girl named Hina,” Jungkook nods, watching as you draw shapes in the sand. “And you?”

“No one since you. I mean, I had a few flings. And some one-night stands,” you say, and he arches a brow, surprised and amused.

“Look at that. Didn’t you become a bold one?” He jokes. “What a shame, a pretty girl like you, still single.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle, nudging his shoulder. “Maybe that’ll change. I’m sort of in a situationship right now. He wants more.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know. He’s nice.” You shrug, and Jungkook frowns.

“Nabi, don’t force yourself. I mean... who am I to give advice, right?” He laughs awkwardly before turning to look at you. “But I want you to be happy. And if you’re not sure that guy can give you what you want, don’t date him.”

“If I’m being honest...” You pause, and Jungkook gives you his full attention, sitting up straighter. “I’m scared to end up alone. I’m too... complicated. Most of the guys I had after you hated my attitude. But Baekhyun? He just embraces it. He supports me, accepts that I’m not ready to date, and waits for me.”

“That’s not enough. You shouldn’t accept the bare minimum,” Jungkook says, and you shake your head. “You deserve someone who’ll worship you.”

“Easy for you to say. Girls have been chasing you since we were teens.”

“Not the one I want,” he whispers, looking down at his beer as your eyes fall on his side profile. “you’re hard to live with, you’re stubborn with a big mouth and a taste for fights, I won’t deny that.” Jungkook teases and you slap his shoulder "But I also know that once you love, you give everything. If a man can’t get past your tough shell, he doesn’t deserve your love."

"Since when did you become a psychologist?"

"Tonight," he jokes. "Give me one more hour and a few beers, and I’ll be able to read your palm." He grins as you smile. "But I’m serious. Don’t settle for Baekhyun if you think he’s just convenient or your last option. Agreeing with everything you say? That’s not love."

You roll your eyes, making him smile wider.

"Then find me a guy who can handle me," you challenge playfully. Jungkook smirks, gesturing to himself. You laugh, shaking your head. "You should hate me."

"I don’t."

"I said you should." You lift a finger in the air, and he chuckles.

"Who’s Baekhyun, anyway?" Jungkook asks teasingly, his shoulder bumping into yours.

"You’ve met him," you muse, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "My assistant. The other tattoo artist."

"What?" Jungkook gasps playfully. "That kid? How old is he, eighteen?"

"Stop!" You laugh, punching his arm. "He’s twenty-three."

"I always knew you liked them young. I mean, I’m younger—"

"I’m older by a few weeks!"

"Cougar," Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes. He won’t lie—he’s seen Baekhyun, and something about him seemed off. Or maybe it’s just jealousy because that kid has you and he doesn’t. "Do you change his diapers, too?"

"I’m done with this conversation," you huff, turning your head away while Jungkook bursts into laughter.

"Come on, Nabi, I’m just joking."

And yet, Jungkook is wondering if that Baekhyun knows you as much as he did once upon a time. Does he know that you hate to sleep on the right side of the bed? Or how you have a hard time focusing if there’s too much people around you, how you hate wearing nails polish. Does he know how to make those pretty sounds come out of your mouth when you’re in bed? And mostly, does he know how you love and the look you used to give him? Do you give the same look to that kid?

"Do you remember the last time we were at a beach in Busan?" you ask suddenly.

"Before we left for Seoul," Jungkook says softly, his eyes falling to his hands around his beer.

"We talked about the future," you add, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I remember." Jungkook nods, his gaze following yours to the shore. "A big house, two kids, a cat, and a dog."

"Hm." You smile, pressing your lips together. His eyes drift back to your face. "Where would we be if… we had stayed together?"

"Married, for sure," Jungkook replies, finishing his beer. "Maybe you’d be pregnant with our first baby."

The thought makes you smile, and Jungkook’s lips curl into a soft smile too. He’s imagined it so many times—how beautiful you’d look with a round belly, glowing with happiness.

"Or maybe we’d be right where we are now," you say, taking a sip of your drink. "Maybe we were meant to be apart."

"I don’t believe that," Jungkook says, almost too quickly. "Our story wasn’t over."

"What makes you so sure?" you ask, arching a brow and Jungkook clenches his jaw, turning his attention to you.

"I didn’t fight for us because you disappeared that day. But I wanted to," he admits, and you chuckle bitterly.

"That’s why I disappeared." You shrug like it’s nothing. "I knew if I saw you again, you’d try to fix things, and I’d give in."

"That’s why you just… left our apartment and changed your number?" he frowns, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. He hates how casually you say it, like it didn’t tear him apart.

He hated that place without you in it. He hated that your left side of the bed still smelled like you even after he changed the sheets, how he could still hear you humming in the kitchen like you were cooking for both or how the couch felt cold without you cuddling against him during your movie nights.

"Do you even know… how it felt to come home and find our place half-empty?” He starts before hardly swallowing. “How I had to sleep in a bed that still smelled like you for weeks before I gave the keys back to the landlord? Fuck, Nabi… Do you have any idea how hard it was to live without you when I was so used to having you around all the time?" Jungkook shakes his head, hiding his face in his hands. "I thought it was the end of the world."

His admission makes you blink a few times as you look down, and Jungkook suddenly feels guilty when he sees you wiping your cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You say with a little voice. “I’m sorry…I – I thought you’d be better off without me."

“Says who?” He frowns, upset, shaking his head. “I was better with you.”

"I didn’t want to leave you," you admit before your emotions overwhelm you, and tears spill from your eyes, making Jungkook freeze. What is he supposed to do now? He didn’t mean to make you cry. He just wanted to have a good evening with you, but now you’re sobbing. What an idiot. "I never wanted to leave you."

"Y/N…"

“I –“ You swallow a sob. “I did it for you.” You shake your head and he frowns a little while you wipe your cheeks and take a deep breath.

"How… breaking up with me…?" Jungkook whispers, unable to finish his sentence.

He hates seeing you cry, but he knows that if he tries to comfort you, you would just push him away.

“I…I tried to help you.” You pinch your lips together. “That university in Tokyo accepted you. You were going to waste that opportunity just to stay with me."

Jungkook’s frown deepens. He never told you he was going to turn down the offer in Tokyo. And like you read his mind you let out a watery chuckle.

“I heard your conversation with Jimin.” you explain, and Jungkook freezes, a wave of anger rising inside him. “I couldn’t let you refuse that to work as a simple cashier, Kook. I couldn’t let you waste your life for me.”

Jungkook lets out a sour chuckle before getting up, his fists clenched at his sides. All this time, he thought that he did something wrong. All this time he thought that you left him because he said something that hurt you enough to breaking up with him.

“And who are you to decide for me?” He almost spits as you stay sitting on the sand, looking at him. “We were a team, remember? We were supposed to talk about it. Make it work!”

“Jungkook.” You say softly, getting on your knees but he takes a step back.

"All this time…" he mutters, shaking his head as a sob escapes. "Fuck... All this time, I thought it was my fault."

"I’m sorry."

"Sorry won’t fix seven wasted years!" he barks, and you struggle to get up, both of you drunk.

"Kook…"

"No." He shakes his head, wiping his face. "I fucking loved you with everything I had. I wanted to spend my life with you, build a future with you. If you had just talked to me, we could’ve made it work! You were the only one I ever listened to."

“Jungkook.” You repeat as you try to reach his hand but he takes another step back. “How was that supposed to work?” You frown and he rolls his eyes, looking away. “You were about to live new experiences. I would’ve been the girlfriend stuck in your hometown. How long would it have taken before you left me?"

"Don’t twist this into being my fault, Y/N," he warns, jaw clenched. "The distance, the new experiences—that’s bullshit, and you know it."

“I know that you needed your freedom.” You bite back and his teeth close on his tongue to not say something hurtful. “That’s why I didn’t want to reconnect with you. I knew how all of this would end.” You mumble, gathering your stuff and he can clearly see how hurt you are.

“I needed you.” He says more softly, but you don’t listen, tying your hair into a ponytail before catching your witch hat. “Nabi.” He stops you, standing right behind you.

"I get it, Jungkook. I do," you say without looking at him, trying to hold back tears, but he can hear the quiver in your voice. You're close to breaking.

“Nabi.” He repeats as you stand up, your hands full of your things.

"I never asked you to come back into my life," you snap, finally turning to face him, shaking your head. "I never asked you to kiss me earlier. I think it’s time to say goodbye for good."

"No." Jungkook's voice is firm as his fingers close around your arm. Even when you try to pull away, his grip tightens. “I won’t let that happen.”

You let out a dry chuckle, turning to face him, both of you frowning.

"You must be pretty stupid to still want me," you say, trying to swat his hand away, but he pulls you closer instead.

"I know what you’re doing. You’re being mean to protect yourself. It won’t work. We’re going to talk." His voice rises a little. "You always run when things get complicated. Not this time."

"Let me go, Jungkook."

"Not before we figure this out."

"There’s nothing to figure out!" you bark, but he only pulls you closer, his hand firm on your arm.

"Talk to me, Y/N," he says, his voice louder than yours now.

"I did! And you got mad at me!" You groan, feeling your frustration grow. He takes a deep breath, softening his features.

"It’s not too late."

"What?!"

"Us. It’s not too late," Jungkook whispers, and you stare at him, blinking in disbelief. "Yes, I’m upset with you. But that’s because I know... I know we could have made this work."

"How?" you ask, your tone softer now, no longer fighting him off.

"I could have… taken the ferry to see you during my holidays. You could’ve visited me. There’s always a solution, Nabi." He tilts his head, trying to meet your gaze.

"You were free," you reply, and he shakes his head.

"I didn’t want that," Jungkook chuckles sadly, finally letting go of your arm. "If you really want to leave, then go. I won’t stop you anymore, Nabi."

He looks at you as none of you break the eye contact. Will you leave? He doesn’t want to force you to anything. But you don’t move. And he hopes that you’re not playing him.

"Fuck," he laughs humorlessly, running a hand through his hair. "You’re the only woman who can shatter me, and I’ll still come running after you."

"I thought I was helping you," you murmur, biting your tongue, looking down at your feet. "I didn’t want to leave. I..." Your voice breaks, and you begin to sob. "I didn’t want to hurt you."

Jungkook stays silent, his fists clenching at his sides to stop himself from pulling you into his arms. God, he wants to. He needs to comfort you, but he knows you’ll push him away.

"I put my own feelings aside to let you live your dream," you sniff, hiding your face in your hands. Jungkook’s vision blurs as his eyes fill with unshed tears.

"I was going to ask you to marry me," Jungkook whispers, followed by an awkward chuckle. When you lift your tear-filled eyes to meet his, he shrugs. "The day you left me... I was going to ask you to be my wife."

And it’s too much to bear. You break in tears as he looks away, wiping his cheek. He hates seeing you cry. He hates being unable to comfort you like he used to.

“I didn’t plan to see you again when I came back. I was scared to find out you were happily married to someone who wasn’t me.” He continues, eyes fixed on an empty soju bottle half-buried in the sand. “But I saw you at Hyesun’s wedding and… fuck, you were so pretty.”

“Stop.” You shake your head, taking a step back because it’s probably too much to hear but he takes a deep breath and close the distance.

"I knew I had to try, Nabi," he says, cupping your face in his hands. "Because there’s no one else for me but you."

"Jungkook," you protest weakly, trying to push him away half-heartedly.

"Stop fighting it," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. "Tell me you want this too."

"I…” You start but Jungkook muffles your next words with a kiss.

He isn’t trying to force you, but when you kiss him back, he pulls you closer. The kiss tastes of salt, from your tears and his. Jungkook has kissed many girls after you, but none of them ever made him feel like this. He softly nips at your bottom lip, creating a gap to slide his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It’s a passionate kiss, desperate. He wants you to feel how much he needs you. When you relax into him, your fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer, he smiles against your mouth. But when the need for air becomes overwhelming, he reluctantly pulls back, his nose nuzzling against yours.

"Stay with me tonight. Don’t go home," he murmurs, gently wiping the remnants of your tears from your cheeks.

When you nod, his smile widens, and he pulls you into a tight hug, his nose buried in your hair. He missed your warmth. He missed how right it felt to have you in his arms. He doesn’t know how long you stayed like that, but when the cold started to bite at your skin, he pulled back. Grabbing both of your things, he offered his hand to you, which you shyly took. He couldn’t hide his excitement at the thought of keeping you with him tonight.

"You’re not walking straight," you chuckle as you make your way to his hotel.

"I’m drunk, Nabi. Sue me," he jokes, his fingers intertwined with yours as he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours.

Jungkook didn’t rush you once you were in his room. He handed you a fresh pair of joggers and one of his shirts while he waited, sneaking glances at the bathroom door. He even turned off his phone to make sure nothing interrupted your time together. When you came out of the bathroom, he smirked. He had gotten bigger since the last time you borrowed his clothes, and now you looked like a kid in oversized clothing. He found it adorable.

“What?” you ask looking down at your outfit, straightening your shirt –well, his.

"Nothing," he shrugs, still smirking.

Your nose is still slightly rosy from crying earlier, but somehow, it adds to your charm, Jungkook thinks. He gets up and grabs his clothes from the sofa, heading to the bathroom.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says softly as he walks past you.

Jungkook needs to calm down. He closes the bathroom door and takes a deep breath before jumping in place with excitement. He takes off his shirt and turns to the mirror, grinning at his reflection.

Alright. Breathe. Play it cool. She’s the same, Jungkook.

He pinches his lips together to stop himself from smiling too widely. He feels like he’s seventeen again, on his first date with you. He never thought you’d let him spend more time with you, let alone kiss you like that. He takes another deep breath and looks down at his pants.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he murmurs to himself before turning on the water, excited to join you again, to hold you in his arms.

When he steps out of the bathroom, his damp hair falling over his forehead and neck, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone.

“Are you hungry? We can order something to eat,” Jungkook suggests, closing the distance between you.

“No,” you say, locking your phone and tossing it on the bed. “But if you are, you can—”

“I’m not hungry,” Jungkook cuts in, putting his hands on his hips.

Both of you stare at each other in silence. It’s awkward, and neither of you knows what to say. Jungkook clears his throat nervously, and you giggle when he hums a tune, making him frown slightly and turn to you. Then, out of nowhere, you burst into laughter, falling back onto the bed, your hands on your stomach.

“What’s so funny, huh?” He smiles, amused, as you cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head.

“Sorry,” you giggle, trying to calm yourself. “It’s just weird. What are we, sixteen? Why are you so nervous?”

Your laughter makes his smile grow as he cages you with his arms, placing both hands on either side of your body.

“You’re mocking me, seriously, Nabi?” he teases with a grin as you sit up, shaking your head.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say, pressing your lips together to stop smiling, then lift your eyes to meet his.

Jungkook’s eyes widen when your puppy-like gaze locks with his. He swallows, leaning closer, dying to kiss you, but he doesn’t want to push it. You smile at his nervousness, and he knows you can read his thoughts—just like you always did. For the first time, you close the distance and press your lips to his.

The only contact is your mouths. His fists grip the sheets on either side of you, trying to resist the urge to touch you more. But your hands trail up his arms to cup his face, pulling him closer. His resolve crumbles the moment your fingers bury themselves in his hair, pulling him down onto the bed with you. He hovers over you, careful not to crush you, one leg between yours as his hands trace the curves of your waist, still over his shirt.

“I’m not made of dust, I won’t crumble and disappear if you touch me.” You laugh against his mouth and he hums shyly.

“I’m not scared of that,” he whispers, trailing kisses along your jaw, his fingers squeezing your hips. “I just... don’t want to get too comfortable and wake up.”

“I’m real,” you reassure him, tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, where he continues to kiss and nip at your skin.

But something feels wrong to him—the way you kiss him hungrily while he kisses you back, passionate yet hesitant. Then it hits him.

“Nabi,” Jungkook murmurs as you continue to kiss his neck and shoulder, your fingers guiding his hand deeper into your joggers. “Y/N.”

“What?” you ask breathlessly, licking your lips as he straightens up, pulling his hand away from your pants.

“I don’t want to have sex with you like a cheap one-night stand,” Jungkook replies, sitting back on his knees and running a hand through his hair.

“What are you talking about?” you frown, leaning on your elbows. “You... don’t want me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, shaking his head. “But you’re acting like I’m just some random guy from a bar.”

You frown, sitting up. He’s afraid he said something wrong.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Jungkook sighs. “Fuck... Do you really want me, or are you just horny and I’m the only guy around?”

“Jungkook.” You say, your eyes soften as you cup his face, seeing the hurt on his face. “You’ll never be just convenient for me.”

He takes a deep breath, his tongue poking at his cheek. He wants to believe you. And fuck, if you told him the sky was pink, he’d believe you.

“We can just cuddle and talk if you want,” you suggest, and Jungkook smiles, nodding.

He knew about all the men in your life before you ever told him—Jimin had filled him in. Everyone knows you use physical intimacy to fill the void, and part of him feels responsible. If he had fought harder for you, maybe you wouldn’t have that endless list of guys.

“You’re not them,” you whisper as he pulls you close in bed, your head resting on his arm.

“I know. I was the first,” he teases with a smirk, and you roll your eyes, playfully slapping his chest. He laughs softly, taking your hand and holding it over his heart, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Go on a date with me,” Jungkook says, your noses brushing against each other. “A real one. Not this ‘friendly date’ bullshit.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” you chuckle as he smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jungkook grins, his fingers softly rubbing the back of your hand. “We’ll grab some food and go to the beach tomorrow.”

“We came to see our families,” you remind him with a raised brow.

“I’ll see them after the date.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how long the two of you stay in bed, talking about everything. The sun starts to rise as you fall asleep, your face resting on his shoulder while he plays with your hair. He didn’t like them short at first, but he’s gotten used to it and actually thinks that it suits you now. But for him, you look pretty anyways. He keeps you close against his body, his arms locked around you to be sure that you won’t slip. Brushing his nose against your hair, he takes the time to enjoy your scent. Your perfume is slightly different from the fruity one you had when you two were together. This one is more feminine, more mature. And he likes it.

And when he wakes up later, he still finds you nestled against him, your back pressed against his chest. For a good minute, he has to pinch himself, convinced this is a dream. It feels too right to be real, having you here with him.

Jungkook carefully disentangles himself from you and sits up. His mouth is dry, and he needs to check his phone. After taking his time in the bathroom, he smiles when he sees you still sleeping, cuddling one of the pillows. He sits on the edge of the bed and turns on his phone, immediately bombarded by notifications.

Ignoring most of them, he opens his conversation with Jimin and sends him a message. Jimin knew about his plan all along and asked him to keep him updated. Jungkook types out everything he remembers from the night before—how you fell asleep in his arms, how happy he is. He smiles like a teenager as he types, and Jimin replies almost instantly, saying he’s happy for him. But then the next message makes Jungkook’s smile drop.

FROM: Jiminie

Did you tell her about Hina?

Jungkook sighs, rubbing his face. His fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types a reply. He had been so focused on you that he forgot about her.

TO: Jiminie

It’s too soon. I just got her back. Let me enjoy this.

Jimin’s answer comes almost immediately and Jungkook groans, frustrated because he knows that his friend is right. His eyes fall back on your sleeping form. You’re going to hate him. He needs to figure out how to handle this little – big- problem. Jungkook knows where his heart is, and it’s right here, with the woman peacefully sleeping in his bed.

FROM: Jiminie

I understand. But you need to tell her before she hears it from someone else. Nabi has the right to know about your fiancée.

YOU CAN ALREADY READ THE CHAPTER 07 ON KO-FI.

< previous - MASTERLIST - next >

WATTPAD.

KO-FI. (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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kyunniebuns · 1 day ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 057 - Lover! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Every Little Thing You Are ] ¡! ❞

[ Why are you still awake? ] [ I don't have my online status on how'd u know:0? ] [ Instinct. ] [ Lmfao what is that supposed to mean? ] [ Get off the game. ] [ DD:] [ I'm picking you up in five minutes, we're taking a walk ]

Why does your boyfriend suddenly sound like a mom out of nowhere, hahah? No wonder Jin-ah occasionally complains to you, her brother is basically an annoying mama hen habitually.

So, you awkwardly dress for the cold outside on top of your pajamas and wait for Jinwoo to arrive on your front door.

You really only waited for three minutes and he's already there, pressing the doorbell.

"You are such a handful"— Was the first thing Jinwoo said when you opened the door for him. "You stay up until late at night and then complain the next day that you feel drowsy and tired."

"...Okay, mom" You pout, earning a flick on the forehead from your own lover before intertwining your fingers together.

"I'm your boyfriend" He corrects,

"Well, it's not my fault you appear more like a mom sometimes" You quip back and he could only sigh at your stubborness

꒰ .... ꒱

Midnight walks was Jinwoo's preferred method of easing you into the night. He knew you had trouble sleeping on most nights due to stress and anxiety. He wasn't the kind of boyfriend who would bug you to tell him about your day, he lets you vent to him when he knows you're ready to start explaining how your day is comptely terrible.

When you're agitated, he doesn't enjoy it.

Not that you take your anger out on your beloved.

Of course not, neither of you will ever land a hand on one another. Well, to be frank, even if you do hit Jinwoo— he wouldn't really care.

But tonight? The priority is to tire you out for an instant knockout.

The only thing that broke the serene silence between the both of you is the crunching of grass and gravel underneath the both of you as the chilly breeze whistles on the air.

You could feel Jinwoo squeeze your hand more, as if reminding you that you aren't alone at the moment and you don't have to be so stiff in the face of such the cast darkness of the park you're both taking your walk in.

"Hey, take a look" Jinwoo peers behind a bush where a frog is croaking.

"Eek!" You squeak, backing up immeadiately.

"???" Your lover blinks, "It's just a frog"

Well it's a slimy little thing but it's not bad compared to the horrors he had gone through with the gates before regressing through time.

"Sung Jinwoo, put that down right now!" You cry out as Jinwoo picked up the frog with his gloved left hand.

"Come on, it's a bit cute actually" Jinwoo smiles, as if he was brewing evil in that stupidly fluffy head of his.

And just like you expected, he started chasing you around with the frog croaking (maybe crying). While you sob for mercy, Jinwoo is laughing in bliss at messing around.

"What are you, five?!"

"Nah, it's just cute at how scared you are"

"I'm breaking up with you!"

"Hahah, nice try"

You were about to ball out of the park until Jinwoo yanked you back by your waist.

"Ew, ew, ew!" You squirm, "Don't hold me with your slimy hand!"

He mused, "I removed the glove, why are you still so cranky?"

"No!"

You whine and attempt to free yourself but his hold on you is as steady and unmoving as a mountain.

"Done?" Jinwoo asks, rubbing your stomach affectionately when you finally stopped struggling against him.

"You just brought me out here to make fun of me" You glare at him,

Jinwoo chuckles, pecking your lips briefly. "Maybe?"

"I'm really breaking up with you"

"Very funny."

He knows you'll never leave him anyway, just as he is in too deep in this whirlwind of love— So are you.

Only that Jinwoo is willing to do so much more in the name of his affections for you.

But that's a story for another day and another time, right now— He just wants to indulge in you underneath this moonlit evening.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I'm very burnt out atm, I'll rest up for a bit before I start doing more fics and such. I have a lot of things in mind to do including lads and hsr. I'm very tired atm for no reason ahahahsa I jst wanna sleep. So please excuse me for this terrible short fluff ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x you #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jin woo headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader fluff #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling fanfic #ore dake level up na ken

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 2 days ago

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Hey, you.

If you're American, and you've been having a hard week egg for.. reasons -

I have something to say to the Americans.

Just remember.

They aren't immortal.

Nobility has lied for centuries. They told us they were placed on the throne by God - the rule of the king being the will of the Creator.

The French proved them wrong.

You are young. They are human. They will one day die.

And on the day they die - regardless of if hell is real or not - there will be a movement when they are laying on that death bed. They will feel their live slipping from their grasp.

And they will feel the fear.

The possiblity of eternal consequence.

They will fear what waiting for them on the other side. The one journey they cannot buy their way out of. The moment the bell tolls for thee.

And honestly, the thought brings me peace.

Trumo and Elon AREN'T demons - though it's so easy to think of them as so.

They are evil humans. And all humans die. Trump? He's 80. He's over three times my age. He's older than my grandmother. He eats McDonald's and Diet Coke like no one's business. Knock on wood I'm betting he's got ten years TOPS.

('I'll be the last president' - my ass. If you take a bad fall it's game over dude. You won't release your health records cause you're most likely due for a heart attack soon mfer. Your minions don't like your candy ass Junior enough to have him as a successor and Baron doesn't fucking care so realistically speaking whats your game plan here? 🤨 Elon's kids have too many daddy issues to take your place. You can't even use a sword. Napoleon would slay you where you fucking stand you pansy)

So if you've been struggling this week, I just wanted to remind you.

Black people won our civil rights without the support from the media, without online social networks, without the support from 90% of white people.

70 years ago, around when my grandma was born - I could not sit next a white person in school. If a white man was walking towards me on the street, I'd have to step into the gutter and let him pass. At risk of being actually killed by the whole town if not.

Nowadays in my city I could tell a white guy my age 'Fuck you!!' to your face. Middle finger and all. And they're not gonna put me in jail for it. No stranger is gonna jump in. The whole town isn't gonna care. If anything, people will just record.

That all happened in ONE generation.

So no matter what Trump does.

Remember. He's not immortal. He will die like we all do.

You're young. You'll have the rest of your life to reverse everything he's done.

That's the thing about personality cults. Once the personality is removed, the whole thing falls apart. And the personality in question is once again - an 80 year old who eats Big Macs and wears suits two sizes too large. A man who would probably get genuinely upset if you asked him to recite his 8 times tables.

If Trump dies in the next 10-20 years, before he turns 100, I'll be 35-45. a.k.a - my generation will be entering the older majority. Our generation will be the eldest and the most influencial. What then?

The Trumpettes won't have their leader for their personality cult so they'll have no one - not even their republican parents - to tell them who to think.

We'll be older, wiser. We'll teach our kids the signs. We'll tell them stories what to do, and invest pubic funds to conserve the history of our fight - to never be erased.

If you're scared this week, I understand.

But remember. We've fought harder with less - and we still won.

So keep your head up. Doom is the tool of the enemy. You keep going, you keep living, and you survive to tear down their legacy while the bastard spins in his grave.

Keep going. Keep your angry hearts and clenched fists. Hold on tight to your love and rage. And keep going.

That's what Hobie would want. That's what a Hobie is there to teach us.

Hope this helped someone, anyone, even if it was a little bit. If this helps you get through the day, or the next hour, with the smallest bit of hope - that's all I want.

Thanks for reading this far! Here's Hobie :)

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

And bonus:

Ayo I just gotta add this in here -

Word to god, and when I say this I say this with my whole chest -

I'd be DAMNED before I ever say I'm scared of Donald Trump.

First of all, I'm black and poor. There's been a white man wanting me dead since the moment I left my Mama's hoohaa and guess what, I'm still here. That mfer ain't special. Call me when the klansmen come not when done mfers with tiki torches cosplay call of duty.

Cause none of them coming to the hood..tf.. Try that shit in neighborhood with Bloods and Crips.. Y'all not the only ones with automatics and lots of money. It's just the black people with money and automatics keep shit quiet. If these racist mfers had ppl breaking in they house the way Kendrick had mfers breaking in Drake's with choppers they'd be terrified as fuuuckkk

And secondly there's 4chan fellas out there that probably legit jack off to the idea of a black queer trans person crying in fear. And those mfers can kiss my black ass and kick rocks cause I wake up every day smiling. So -

Anyway I'm done lol

I just had to get this out of my system lol. OKAY BYE FOR REAL

#imagine the day Trump dies #IMAGINE THE MEMES #Come on you gotta stay alive for that #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #trump 2025 #trump inauguration

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sinnabarmoth · 3 days ago

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Welcome Home

Pairing: Zayne x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes.)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Sylus)

You heard the front door open and smiled. “Welcome home, how was work my darling?” you called to Zayne from the kitchen.

“I’m…alive.” he sighed.

“Oh dear,” you put the soup on low heat to keep it warm and went out to see him. Zayne was slumped against the front door toeing off his shoes. There were deep lines etched into his forehead, bags under his eyes, and his hair was askew from running his hands through it. “What happened? Something go wrong at work?”

“No. Nothing wrong but the amount of work being put on my plate.” he let you help him out of his overcoat. “I probably would have stayed later to get some more things done but I knew if I did that you’d come over and drag me out by the nape of my neck.”

“Damn right I would have. I haven’t spent the last couple years instilling a sense of work/life balance in you for you to backslide now.” you pulled him in for a hug. “You work so hard, you need to remember to take breaks when you need them. You’re not some machine.”

“I know,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Which is why I came home. I know you’d force me to relax no matter what.”

“You know me so well. Now go on, get out of your work clothes and come join me for dinner. I made a very nutritious vegetable soup--”

“And you made sure to--”

“With no carrots. I know.” you rolled your eyes. “And I also bought taro ice cream for dessert.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Is it possible we can have dessert first?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Zaynie. But I spent an hour making this soup, you’re getting a bowl full of that first.” you gave his butt a little pat as you ushered him toward the bedroom.

You ladled soup into the waiting bowls on the table and sat down as Zayne reemerged looking much more comfortable. You let him complain about his day and vent his frustrations with the changes they were doing around the hospital that he didn’t think were actually necessary. Your feet bumped against his under the table, reminding him that he was home and didn’t need to worry about work any more tonight.

Slowly he started to relax and the life came back into his eyes as he ate the soup. There was your husband. You leaned across the table and took his free hand, stroking it lightly with your thumb. He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about how all day all you do is take care of everyone else. People put you in charge of their health, the health of their friends and family, their very lives really. It’s a lot of pressure. It makes me worry sometimes that you forget to take care of yourself, let someone dote on you for a change.” you squeezed his hand. “I want to be that person for you.”

“You are that person every day.” a gentle smile grew on his face. “Every time I come home and see your smiling face I forget all my other worries. I know that you will always be there to take my coat and lift my spirits and tell me to just lay back and take it easy for the night. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you.”

“Aw Zayne!” you got up and kissed his cheek. “You really are the sweetest, my darling.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I can hardly remember a time before I had you in my life. I must have been a machine to have coped with it all.”

“You were never a machine. You just didn’t have someone to remind you to look after yourself. Sometimes people need someone to come in and remind them that they are a person too. After that, they learn to do it for themselves. Do you think the Zayne from a couple years ago would have left work on time when he knew he could get more stuff done if he stayed?”

He shook his head. “No. I would have been there till midnight, probably would have slept there too.”

“Exactly. Now look at you, you come home to me without me having to so much as send a text. I helped pull you out but you’ve been doing marvelously at keeping yourself afloat. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“My flower…” he gazed up at you with absolute love and adoration.

“And it looks like you finished your soup so if you still want it we can have ice cream now.” you said brightly.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite.” you ruffled his hair and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. You were going to scoop it out but decided to just grab two spoons and stuck them in the carton. “Since you worked so hard today and you’re being extra sweet I think we can have a straight from the carton kinda night. Have as much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” you sat yourself on the edge of the table and scooped up some ice cream with your spoon. “Want me to feed you as well?”

His face started turning red. “No--I mean, not unless you really want to.”

You chuckled and held the spoon out for him. He licked the ice cream off and once he had you bent closer and pecked his lips, chasing the lingering sweetness on them. You noticed when you started to pull away he leaned in closer, chasing your lips.

You smiled, cupping his face. “Is my doctor perhaps craving something a little sweeter than ice cream?”

He gulped, staring up at you through half lidded eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t mind…” he trailed off.

“Come now, my darling. You know better than to not finish your sentence.” you said in a quiet, coaxing voice. “What is it you want?”

“I’d like to go back to the bedroom, my flower.” he said, his spine straightening.

“Much better.” you pulled him out of his chair and quickly tossed the ice cream back in the freezer. “We can finish that later. Right now I think what my hard working husband needs is a thorough massage.”

#love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #letterbox prompt

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surielstea · 1 day ago

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Dancing With Fate pt.11

Read part one here.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Reader and Nyx meet again, this time exploring Velaris—and much more about their fates are revealed.

Warnings: Minor conflict, protective parents, forbidden love, and some kissing 👀

A.Note: I haven’t posted since last yearrr I am so sorry to all of you, but part two is finally here!! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s a little bit more fast paced but I wanted to speed it along so I could get to the actual good stuff. Make sure you read part one prior to this!

Word count: 7.1k

I was in my bedroom, rereading a book for the sixth time. It was the least favorite on my shelf, worn only from idle desperation rather than love. Father didn't often take me out to buy new books; when he did, it was always after much coaxing. I could go without him, but only with a sentry trailing me. And I hated inconveniencing them with what he called my "silly hobby." So, I waited until my father needed something from the town, and then I'd quietly slip a purchase into our errands.

It had been a week—exactly seven days—since the ball at the Dawn Court. Since I'd talked with a stranger until sunrise. It was strange, missing someone whose name I didn't even know. But I did. I missed the way he teased me, the way I could be me with him—unguarded and, for once, unjudged. My chest ached at the memory, yet I forced my attention back to the book in my lap, pretending not to notice how hollow the words felt tonight.

"I could take you to the bookstore, you know."

I jolted upright at the sudden intrusion in my mind, my breath catching at the unfamiliar—yet eerily familiar—cool tone.

"Who's there?" My whispered words sounded absurd even to me, as I scanned my empty room for a presence that couldn't possibly be real. My pulse thundered, but no one appeared.

"In your head, princess," the voice replied smoothly, amusement curling through every syllable.

My breath hitched. That voice... his voice.

"How are you doing that?" I whispered, my grip tightening on the book.

"Daemati powers," he answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Daemati. My thoughts raced. Only a few could wield that kind of power, and even fewer had the skill to enter a mind from such a distance, wherever he was. The realization sent a shiver down my spine. "Get out of my head."

"Let me take you to the bookstore, and I will."

"I can't go out." The words came out sharp, though I wasn't sure whether I was speaking to him or to myself. "My father would—"

"Your father isn't home, is he?" he interrupted, his voice dipping into a dry hum. "Come now, are there wards locking you in?"

"No," I admitted, frowning, disliking that he already knew that fact.

"Chains on your doors or windows?"

"No, but—"

"Then you can leave."

"It's not that simple," I snapped, then clamped my mouth shut, wincing at my own volume.

A quiet pause. Then, softly, "What happened to the girl I met at the ball? The one who wasn't afraid to sneak away and stay out until dawn?"

"This is manipulation," I grumbled, though my chest fluttered at the memory of that night.

"Is it working?" he purred, smug.

"Yes," I muttered under my breath, hating the warmth that pooled in my stomach.

"Good. Meet me at the Spring and Summer border."

Before I could argue, the connection snapped, leaving me alone in the quiet, moonlit room. I stared at the book in my lap, then closed it with a sharp thud and tossed it onto the bed.

I shouldn't do this. I couldn't do this.

And yet, I was already moving—slipping into boots, shrugging on my satchel, and inching my window open with careful fingers. The night air kissed my skin as I hoisted myself onto the sill, every creak of the frame sending a thrill of nervous energy through me as my feet planted on the roof below me.

The climb down the flower-covered lattice was agonizingly slow, the wooden structure groaning beneath my weight as I scaled the two-story descent. By the time my feet touched the ground, my heart was racing. I pressed myself into the shadows, my movements silent as I made my way past the lingering, half-awake sentries and through the edge of the wards.

Once outside, I winnowed. The magic tugged at my ribs, spinning me through space until I landed at the Spring and Summer border.

It wasn't hard to spot him. He was already there, leaning casually against a sunstone pillar, his wings catching the moonlight like black silk. Shadows played along the sharp lines of his face, accentuating the curve of his mouth as he smiled—a sharp, knowing thing that made my steps falter.

"Evening, princess," he drawled, pushing off the pillar with an ease that made everything about him look so effortless.

"You know my title, but I still don't know your name," I replied, crossing my arms in a poor attempt to mask the way my heart stumbled at the sight of him.

His grin widened, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Let's keep it that way for now. Mystery suits us, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, his hand shot out, plucking something from my hair. He held it up between two fingers—a small, pale pink rose. "You've got a knack for dramatic entrances," he said, twirling the flower.

"Must've fallen when I climbed down the lattice," I muttered, taking the rose from his hand, though my fingers brushed his for a beat longer than necessary.

His brow arched in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me flowers don't just grow from your hair? And here I thought you were a goddess in disguise."

"Don't be ridiculous." I snorted, very un-goddess-like. "This, however, I can do." I cupped the rose in my palm, letting a sliver of my magic flow into it.

The transformation was instant. Vines sprouted from the stem, curling down my wrist in an intricate dance, tiny buds blooming along their length. The rose gleamed in the moonlight, glowing faintly with the life I'd breathed into it.

His smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. The silver light of the moon reflected in his gaze as he leaned closer, studying the vines with an intensity that made heat crawl up my neck. "Impressive," he murmured, his voice softer now. "What else can you do?"

I met his gaze, a grin tugging at my lips. "I'll tell you when you explain how you're able to read my thoughts."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Touché," he said, the smirk returning as he straightened. He extended a hand toward me, his wings shifting slightly as if preparing for flight. "Shall we?"

"Go where?" I asked, tilting my head.

"To the bookstore, of course."

"At midnight?" My disbelieving laugh echoed in the quiet night. "They're all closed."

"Not in the Night Court." His grin turned wolfish, his wings flaring just enough to cast long shadows. "Come on, I'll show you."

I froze, my stomach twisting at the mention of his court. My voice dropped to a whisper. "The Night Court? I'm not allowed to go there. My father forbade it."

"Well," he said with a pointed glance at my boots, "he also forbade sneaking out, and yet, here we are."

His smile was the very definition of trouble, but it faltered when he caught the hesitation in my eyes. The sharp edges of his expression softened. "We don't have to. If you want, I'll winnow you right back to Spring. No harm done."

My lips parted to refuse. To tell him I couldn't, I shouldn't. But the way he watched me, that glint of challenge in his gaze, made something reckless and wild spark to life in my chest. Against every ounce of better judgment, I stepped forward and slipped my hand into his.

"No," I said softly. "I want to."

His fingers tightened around mine, warmth spreading up my arm. "Just one question before we go," I said, my voice light but curious.

"Anything," he replied, his tone low and almost teasing.

"Are there monsters in the libraries there? Creatures made of nightmares?"

His chuckle was deep and smooth, like a shadow curling around the edges of my thoughts. "Bryaxis?" He grinned. "They're a friend."

I stared at him, horrified and awed all at once. "You made friends with a nightmare?"

He tugged me closer, a wicked gleam lighting his face. "Oh, princess," he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker, more thrilling. "You have no idea the company I keep."

Before I could say another word, the world dissolved into darkness.

—

The Night court wasn't the stories my father had told me as a child at all. Tales of monsters crawling from the shadows and winged creatures coming to steal me away. Rather, it was breathtaking, even at first glance. The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter and music drifting from nearby streets. Lanterns hung in the air like suspended stars, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths and vibrant market stalls.

I stumbled slightly as we landed, but Nyx's hand tightened around mine, steadying me. "Easy there, princess," he murmured, the warmth of his voice grounding me.

I glanced at our joined hands, but he made no move to let go, so I didn't pull away.

"This... this is the Night Court?" I whispered, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

"Velaris," he corrected softly, his gaze flicking over the streets like it was a lover's touch. "The City of Starlight."

I didn't know where to look first. Everything was alive, vibrant, yet somehow soothing, like the city itself was breathing. The Night Market stretched out before us, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Vendors called out to passing patrons, their stalls brimming with everything from exotic spices to delicate jewelry and hand-woven silk.

"You live here?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"Sometimes," he said vaguely, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.

We began to walk, and almost immediately, heads started to turn. A merchant at a nearby stall beamed when she saw him. "Haven't seen you in weeks, boy!" she called, waving a hand towards us.

He shot the vendor a look, though it wasn't unkind. "Evening, Mrs. Fowley," he said quickly, guiding me forward before I could ask more questions.

But then another vendor spotted him. And another. Each one greeted him like an old friend, their faces lighting up as if his presence alone had brightened their evening.

"Back again, lad?" one called.

"Nyx, come here," Their voice cut through the chatter of the market. His steps faltered, his head turning toward the sound.

"Nyx?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as he guided me toward the voice, his hand still warm and steady in mine.

His eyes flicked down to meet mine, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cat's out of the bag, I suppose."

"Bat's out of the bag," I quipped, gesturing to the wings folded neatly behind him.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you clever," he said dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

"Who's this pretty girl?" a female asked as we approached, the same one who had called him over. She held a tray of pastries, her expression kind and curious.

He—Nyx—looked at me then, really looked, with an intensity that made my cheeks warm. Before he could answer, a group of giggling girls stumbled down the path, one of them brushing past me and bumping me forward into his chest.

"My girlfriend," he said smoothly, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me closer.

I blinked up at him, startled by his words, but as I caught the wide-eyed, dismayed looks from the group of girls, understanding dawned.

"Ah, careful with this one, love. Just like his father with the ladies," the baker teased her tone light and amused as she gave me a playful wink. Nyx's arm tightened slightly around my waist at her words.

"Here, take a sweet. For whatever trouble he puts you through," she said, plucking a chocolate-covered croissant from her tray with a pair of tongs and holding it out to me.

I hesitated for a moment before accepting the pastry, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Miss," I said softly, my fingers brushing hers as I took the treat.

She waved me off with a warm smile. "Call me Ressina. I run this stand for his aunt's bakery, and I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you."

I nodded, smiling. "I hope so," I said sincerely, her kindness making the bustling market feel a little less overwhelming.

"Go on, then," she said, shooing us away. "Don't let me keep you."

Nyx didn't need to be told twice. His hand remained firm at my waist as he steered me back down the path, away from the stand.

I glanced up at him, raising a brow as I bit into the croissant. The pastry was perfect—flaky, buttery, and rich with chocolate that melted on my tongue. I made a quiet, appreciative sound before speaking. "You're popular, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, quickening his pace as though trying to escape the conversation. "They're just friendly here."

"Friendly?" I teased, a mischievous lilt in my voice. "You must be their favorite customer—or maybe something more. Should I be jealous?"

His wings twitched, and a faint blush crept up his neck. "Are you jealous, princess?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Hardly," I grumbled before taking another large bite of the delectable pastry.

"The baker is a family friend," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "She seemed to like you."

"Plenty seem to like you," I muttered under my breath, finishing the last bite of the pastry. "Boyfriend?"

He cringed slightly, his expression sheepish. "Sorry. Those girls have been following me for weeks. I didn't want you to have to deal with them."

I grinned, delighting in his discomfort. "You know, if you wanted to keep a low profile, you're not doing a very good job of it," I mumble, finishing off the croissant and debating licking my fingers since it was so delicious.

He shot me a sidelong glance, his smirk returning with a wicked edge. "Jealousy looks good on you, princess."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrayed me.

We turned a corner, the bustle of the market fading behind us as we approached a cozier part of the street. Nyx slowed his pace, guiding me toward a small building nestled between two larger shops. A golden sign hung above the door, marking it as a bookshop.

I paused, taking in the sight. The windows glowed softly, and through the glass, I could see shelves upon shelves of books, their spines glinting like hidden treasures. My heart swelled at the sight.

Nyx pulled the door open, motioning for me to step inside. "After you."

The scent of parchment and ink greeted me like an old friend, mingling with the faint aroma of spiced tea. The warmth of the shop wrapped around me, inviting and comforting, as though it had been waiting just for us.

I turned to him, my lips parting to thank him, but he spoke first. "Go on. Find something you like."

His voice was softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something gentler. I hesitated for only a moment before stepping further in, my fingers trailing over the spines of books as I wandered through the aisles.

Nyx followed at a distance, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze steady on me.

"You brought me all this way for a book," I said over my shoulder, smiling. "You're either very kind or very strange."

"Can't I be both?" he replied, his smirk resurfacing as he leaned casually against a nearby shelf.

I shook my head, letting myself get lost in the rows of stories, their endless possibilities calling to me.

I let my fingers dance along the spines of the books, tracing gilded titles and worn leather bindings. Each shelf seemed to hum with stories waiting to be told. A soft sigh escaped me, my heart swelling with quiet contentment.

Behind me, Nyx's footsteps were faint, his presence unobtrusive but unmistakable. I could feel his gaze, watchful and steady, as I explored.

"Find something?" he asked after a while, his voice softer now, almost reverent in the quiet of the shop.

"Not yet," I admitted, my fingers pausing on a particularly beautiful hardback, still pristine and painted gold along its edges. I tilted my head, reading the title.

A smile tugged at my lips. "This seems interesting."

Nyx stepped closer, his warmth brushing against my back as he peered over my shoulder. "Good choice," he murmured, his breath stirring the hair near my temple.

I turned slightly, catching his gaze. "Do you read?"

"Of course," he said, mock offense coloring his tone. "What, do I not seem the type?"

I bit back a grin, holding the book against my chest. "You seem like the type to skim for interesting bits and skip the rest."

His grin turned wicked. "What can I say? I’ve never been one for small talk,"

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the shelves, but his laughter followed me.

"Here," he said after a moment, reaching past me. His arm brushed mine as he plucked a slim, leather-bound book from the shelf. He held it out, his eyes gleaming.

I took it from him, studying the worn cover. Lost Letters Between Lovers. I shot him a look, heat creeping into my cheeks.

His smirk deepened. "Thought it might be useful for you. In case you needed inspiration."

"For what exactly?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Winning me over," he said smoothly, his wings giving a small flick.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've got it all wrong. I'm the one who needs convincing."

"Is that right?" he drawled, his voice low and amused.

I turned back to the shelves, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the flush that had spread down my neck.

After a few more moments of browsing, I found another book that caught my eye. I tucked it under my arm, satisfied.

"Done?" Nyx asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"For now," I said, turning to him. He tilted his head toward the counter, gesturing for me to follow.

The shopkeeper, an elderly male with spectacles perched on the end of his nose, greeted us warmly. "Nyx, my boy. Bringing someone special to the shop, I see."

I froze, suddenly hyperaware of Nyx standing beside me. His hand brushed against mine as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few coins.

"Just passing through, Mr. Tylan," he said smoothly, though there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

Mr. Tylan chuckled knowingly. "Well, it's about time you brought a girl around, the missus and I were beginning to grow doubtful you’d ever meet the one.” He breathes through his nose as he speaks, expert hands wrapping the books in brown paper. “She has excellent taste."

Nyx handed over the payment before I could even think to rummage through my bag, his voice a touch gruff as he replied, "She does."

I glanced at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. He didn't meet my gaze, instead picking up the small stack of books and tucking them under his arm.

"Come on," he said, inclining his head toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tylan,” I say with a soft smile as Nyx ushers me out the door.

“See you around, dear,” He gives me a simple wave.

It was odd, how anxious Nyx seemed in a place as welcoming as this. Everyone was friendly, and everyone knew him, perhaps he was afraid we’d run into the wrong set of people.

The cool night air greeted us as we stepped outside, the lively sounds of the market drifting faintly in the distance. Nyx fell into step beside me, the books still cradled in one arm.

"You didn't have to buy these for me," I said softly as he held them out to me, though he seemed more than willing to continue carrying them for me.

He shrugged, his wings shifting slightly as I took them and stuffed them into my bag. "I wanted to."

I studied him for a moment, the quiet confidence in his stride, the way the moonlight danced across his features. "You're not as insufferable as you pretend to be," I said, smiling.

His lips twitched. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the books pressing against my side with a comforting weight. Finally, I glanced at him, curiosity tugging at me.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he recovered. "You seemed like the type who'd like it. Thought it might make you smile."

I stared at him, warmth blooming in my chest. "You thought right."

His smirk softened into something gentler, something more real. "Good."

As we reached the edge of the market, I found myself wishing the night didn't have to end.

"Nyx," I called softly, stopping in my tracks.

He turned, dark brows lifting in question, the moonlight catching in his vibrant blue eyes.

"Thank you. For tonight," I said, the words carrying more weight than I expected.

His gaze held mine, something unspoken flickering between us. Then he smiled, and it felt as if the stars themselves had leaned in to listen.

"You think it's over already?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What else could you possibly have planned?"

He glanced skyward, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he slid his hand into mine, his grip warm and steady, and winnowed us away.

The world shifted. The cool night air nipped at my skin, sharper here, and I realized we were higher—much higher. Thin air filled my lungs as I took in our new surroundings.

"Where are we?" I asked, turning in place. Encircling us were jagged rock formations, a barren beauty carved by time.

"Look up," he said simply.

I frowned but obeyed, tipping my head back. My breath hitched as the heavens unfolded above me, brighter and closer than I'd ever seen them. The stars weren't merely distant pinpricks of light—they blazed like fireflies caught in an eternal dance, constellations shimmering with unmatched clarity.

"Beautiful," I whispered, unaware the word had even left me.

"Indeed," he murmured.

I turned to him, startled to find him already staring at me. His gaze held the same reverence I felt for the stars, and my heart skipped.

I managed a soft smile, then let my eyes drift back upward, unable to tear myself away from the galaxy stretched endlessly above.

"Come here," he said gently, tugging my hand.

Only then did I realize we were still connected, his touch grounding me even as my mind reeled at the beauty around us. He led me to a rocky outcropping, the path winding into a shallow cave. For a moment, the stars disappeared behind the jagged stone ceiling, and I frowned.

But then we emerged into an open chamber, a perfect circle carved into the roof. It was as though someone had reached into the earth and torn a hole, desperate to preserve this view of the night sky. The chamber's walls cradled us, offering shelter without stealing the stars.

Nyx guided me to a makeshift bench—a cluster of smooth, square stones—and sat. I followed, still entranced, my gaze drawn skyward as if bewitched.

"I used to come here when I was younger," he said after a moment of quiet. His voice was low, intimate in the stillness. "I'd forgotten about it until tonight. You reminded me it existed."

I tore my eyes from the sky to glance at him, curiosity tugging at me. "How could anyone forget a place like this?"

He smiled faintly. "It was my escape from, everything. My family. Expectations. I needed somewhere I could breathe."

I nodded, turning my attention back to the stars. "I get the feeling."

He bumped his shoulder against mine, drawing my gaze once more. "No one else knows about it. But I thought maybe you'd need a place like this, too."

Warmth bloomed in my chest, his words wrapping around me like a soft blanket. I glanced at him, and again, he was already staring at me.

I arched a brow. "You have a staring problem, you know."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Together, we gazed upward. He traced the constellations with his words, his voice soft and steady, while his thumb brushed gentle circles over the back of my hand. Each star above felt like it had been hung there just for us, as if the universe had paused to watch this quiet moment unfold.

For the first time in a long time, I felt peace.

"Nyx?" I asked softly after a few beats of silence.

He tensed ever so slightly at the sound of his name, a shiver rolling through him. I told myself it was because of the chill in the air.

"Hmm?"

"Who are you, really?"

His breathing slowed at my question, as if he were recalibrating, regaining control of a situation he hadn't anticipated losing.

"I have a feeling," I began, "that the power you used to peek into my head knows my lineage. It's only fair I know who you are, too."

He glanced at me, a cocky, almost childish smirk playing on his lips—a look that said, I'm not telling.

"Come on," I groaned, throwing my free hand out in frustration. His other hand still held mine, warm and steadfast. He hadn't let go, and I didn't want to, either.

"Don't you like a bit of mystery?" he teased.

"It's not a mystery when you already know who I am," I countered, arching a brow.

"Fair point, Princess."

Heat crept up my neck at the nickname, one he'd used since the beginning—since before he'd seen into my thoughts.

"You knew," I murmured, realization dawning. My voice wavered, the words trembling like brittle leaves in the wind. "You've known I'm a High Lord's daughter all along. That's why you're entertaining this, isn't it?"

I pulled my hand from his and stood abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest.

His brows furrowed as he looked up at me, confusion—and something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "What?"

"Don't play clueless now." My voice rose, a mixture of anger and humiliation bubbling to the surface. "You've known exactly who I am. That's why you're showing me the stars, why you're charming me. You're trying to secure a seat on my father's throne."

"You think I'm charming?" he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I spluttered, words dying on my tongue. "That's not the point—"

"Look," he cut in, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "Yes, I've known who you were from the start. I won't deny that. But, Princess, believe me when I say the last thing I want is your father's throne."

"Why should I believe you?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "You've done nothing but lie to me since we met. Why should I trust anything you say now?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me differently," he admitted, his voice quieter now, raw. "Because of who I am."

I froze, my anger wavering. My voice softened. "And who, exactly, is that?"

"The heir to the Night Court," he said, the words falling from his lips like a confession he'd carried for too long.

The ground seemed to slip out from under me. My vision blurred for a heartbeat, but I blinked hard, willing myself to stay rooted in the moment.

My father had warned me relentlessly about the Lord of Night—engraved the warning into my mind until it became part of me. The Night Court was treacherous. Its people were dangerous.

But he lied about the court. About its beauty.

Perhaps he lied about its people, too.

"Gods, I’m sure a fool.” I sighed, putting everything together. “Nyx Archeron," I said slowly, his name foreign and familiar on my tongue.

He nodded, watching me intently. "When I approached you on the balcony, I didn't know who you were. I swear it. But as we talked, I got comfortable, let my power stretch a bit further. Halfway through the night, I realized who you were. But I... I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want our parents' feud to dictate—this."

"This?" I asked faintly, though I didn't need clarification.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I can take you home, if you'd prefer."

Disappointment weighed in his tone, a stark contrast to the teasing arrogance I'd grown used to.

I wasn't mad at him for his lineage—he had no control over that. I wasn't even mad he'd lied. I was mad he hadn't told me sooner. Mad that it cast a shadow over everything we'd shared tonight, turning our conversations into something that felt artificial.

My shoulders slumped, the fight leaving me as quickly as it had arrived. I lowered myself back onto the bench beside him.

"I want to start over," I said, my voice hesitant but firm.

Relief washed over his features, and he relaxed slightly, though he kept a cautious distance. "I'm sorry for lying," he said, his words softer now, more earnest. "I was, nervous."

Something told me that wasn't an emotion he felt often.

"I know," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. Perhaps I was the only person who could.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned to him. "It's nice to meet you, officially, Nyx," I said, a tentative smile tugging at my lips.

"Likewise, Princess," he replied, mirroring my smile.

And in the silence that followed, we both silently agreed to leave the past behind us, if only for tonight.

Nyx leaned back, resting his arms on the bench as he looked up at the stars. "You know, I've never interacted with someone who’s an heir too. Should I be bowing?"

I smirked, tilting my head as I looked at him. "Oh, absolutely. A bow is essential. Maybe even throw in a grand speech. Something like, It is my great honor to meet the Princess of the Spring Court."

"That's a tall order," he said, his lips curving into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Would a wink and a smile suffice?"

I scoffed, leaning forward and propping my chin on my hand. "You'd probably trip over your own feet if you tried to bow."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, one brow arching in amusement.

"It's an educated guess," I shot back, crossing my arms.

He leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know, for someone who called me charming earlier, you're being awfully cruel."

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to look away. "I said no such thing."

"Oh, you definitely did." He grinned, leaning even closer. "You think I'm charming. Admit it."

"Nyx—"

"Say it, Princess."

I narrowed my eyes, pretending to deliberate. "You know what? Fine. I think you're charming, in the same way a stray cat is charming when it's begging for food. Annoying, persistent, but kind of hard to ignore."

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing fully, the tension leaving the both of us. "Fair enough. But if I'm a stray cat you're certainly a rabbit."

I blinked, caught off guard. "A rabbit?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Cute, curious, and way too confident for your own good."

"Confident?" I repeated, laughing. "This coming from you? The heir of the Night Court who decided to winnow me across Prythian on a whim?"

"That was a calculated risk," he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Calculated risk, my ass." I shook my head, unable to hide my grin. "You're lucky I haven't punched you yet."

"Oh, Princess," he drawled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "If you wanted an excuse to get your hands on me, you could've just asked."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. His proximity was... distracting.

The air shifted, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, heavier. His gaze locked on mine, and I swore the world shrank to just the two of us, the stars above fading into the background.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the way my heart was suddenly racing. "You're ridiculous."

"I offered to take you home," he said softly, his thumb brushing idly over the back of my hand and I wasn’t sure when they intertwined again, "and yet here we are." His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something real.

I didn't answer, my throat suddenly tight. He was too close now, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Before I could overthink it, his hand moved, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers lingered at my temple, his touch featherlight.

"Nyx..." I breathed, not even sure what I was about to say.

But he didn't answer—not with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in the gentlest, softest kiss.

It was tentative, as if he wasn't sure if I'd pull away. But I didn't. I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was foreign, but filling me with a warmth similar to the sun's morning rays.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I shook my head, my thoughts a tangle of emotions. "We can't," I blurted, though my voice betrayed me with its lack of conviction.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with something that felt like regret—but also determination.

Our eyes remained locked, mere inches apart. We really couldn't, not with who we were, not with who our parents were.

Neither of us seemed to care at that moment, and I don't know if it was me or him who moved first, but suddenly his soft lips were back on mine.

This time, there was no hesitation. His hand cupped my jaw, pulling me closer as his lips claimed mine. It wasn't soft or shy anymore—it was raw, urgent, as though the world might end if he didn't kiss me harder.

I felt myself melt into it, my hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his free hand moving to my waist to hold me steady. The air around us seemed to shift, thickening, crackling with an energy I couldn't place.

Then it happened.

A snap, like a tether locking into place.

I gasped against his lips but didn't move away, the sensation overwhelming as something warm and ancient bloomed deep in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. It was hard to put into words, but suddenly I felt connected to the male against me, connected to his emotions, his thoughts, his very soul. Tethered. Bound.

Nyx pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as his breath came in quick, uneven bursts. His eyes were wide, filled with equal parts wonder and disbelief.

"You felt that too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could only nod, my own breath shaking as I tried to process what had just happened.

The mating bond.

The realization settled between us like a living, breathing thing, as though it had been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

"Nyx," I began again, but he silenced me with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

He leaned in again, kissing me softly, the smile on his lips brushing against mine like a whispered secret. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself, as if the bond was drawing him closer with every passing second. When he pulled back, his amusement lingered in his expression, though his eyes were heavy with the weight of what we'd just discovered.

"The gods have a cruel way of amusing themselves," he murmured, his voice laced with irony.

I sighed, our noses brushing as we remained impossibly close. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure it out," he reassured, his tone soft but certain. His hands, strong and steady, cradled my face, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me. "It doesn't have to change anything."

"But it will," I argued, my voice trembling.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern against my cheek. "I know."

The ache in my chest was something new and raw, a longing that pulsed in time with the bond, an unspoken promise tying us together. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once. My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to sift through the torrent of thoughts crashing over me.

After a moment, his demeanor grew more serious, though his thumb continued its soothing path along my cheek. “We’ll need somewhere safe to be when we accept the bond.”

I tilted my head, my eyes fluttering open as I frowned at him

In confusion. “Safe?”

His lips quirked, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve heard stories of what happens to couples during The Frenzy. It’s, intense.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, not from the cold, but from the vivid images that his tone—and my imagination—conjured.

Nyx raised a brow, clearly catching the direction of my thoughts, but I quickly stammered, “Just cold.”

“Cold?” His smirk returned, though it was softer this time, laced with something tender. “Here.”

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of it enveloped me immediately, carrying his scent—fresh air, cedarwood, and something uniquely him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as his hands lingered for a moment, making sure the jacket sat snugly around me.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he settled back, his hand casually brushing against mine.

And just like that, the air between us shifted again—lighter, easier, yet still charged with something deeper.

“We’ll figure this out,” Nyx said softly, his confidence unwavering.

Looking at him now, his jacket around my shoulders and a small, reassuring smile on his lips, I knew he meant it.

And then, as if he couldn't resist, he kissed me again.

This one was gentle, hesitant, but filled with so much care it nearly unraveled me. His lips lingered on mine, soft and warm, making it impossibly hard to focus.

"Lucien," I blurted out, pulling back suddenly.

Nyx blinked, his brows furrowing at my abrupt shift. "What about him?"

An idea began to form, one I clung to like a lifeline. "Lucien—you know him, don't you?"

"He's married to my aunt," Nyx said cautiously, his tone laced with curiosity.

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "My father lets me visit the Day Court now that Lucien is ruling there. Maybe... maybe I can convince him to let me stay with Lucien for a while. You could find a reason to be there too."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind clearly racing through the implications. "And when you have to return to the Spring Court?" he asked, his voice measured.

"We'll figure it out then," I said, shaking my head. The thought of leaving him made my chest tighten painfully, but I pushed through the discomfort. "I just... I want this. I want us."

His answer was immediate, the conviction in his voice struck a chord deep within me. "I do too."

"Good," I said, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. "Then tomorrow, I'll talk to my father. In the meantime, you can talk to me using your Daemati powers. Can't you?"

He nodded, his sapphire eyes softening as they roamed over my face.

"We'll be fine," I said, my voice steadier now, the words carrying a newfound determination.

Nyx mirrored my smile, and for a moment, it felt as though the world narrowed to just the two of us. This male—who had teased me, infuriated me, and unraveled me in the span of a week—had somehow wormed his way into my heart. And now, with the bond tying us together, I couldn't imagine life without him.

"Are we okay with Lucien and your aunt knowing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper as the thought hit me.

"They'd be the first people I'd tell out of my entire family," he said without hesitation.

"Me too," I agreed softly.

His thumb brushed against my cheek again, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "We'll be fine," he repeated as if trying to convince us both.

But as he said it, I believed him.

The warmth between us lingered as we sat on the bench, the conversation flowing back into the easy rhythm of banter. He teased me about my lack of subtlety in staring, while I reminded him that he was the one who practically glowed under the moonlight, making it impossible not to.

But the night was growing late, and the weight of reality began to creep in.

"I should get you back to Summer's borders," Nyx finally said, his voice tinged with reluctance.

I sighed, not wanting the night to end, but I nodded. "You're right."

He stood and offered me his hand, which I took without hesitation. "Three days," I said as we began walking out of the cave. "Meet me in Day."

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. "Three days."

—

When we reached the border, the air seemed heavier, more final. I turned to him, feeling the pull of the bond even as I prepared to leave. I shrugged off the jacket he had draped over my shoulders and held it out to him.

"Here," I said. "Take it back. If my father sees it, he'll have questions."

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Keep it."

I frowned. "Nyx—"

"Nope. You keep it. Hide it if you're worried about your father. Or don't. Either way, it gives me an excuse to see you again."

I gave him a flat look, but his smugness only deepened.

"Nyx," I repeated, more firmly this time, shoving the jacket into his chest.

He caught it easily but didn't take it. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. "Princess, if you give it back, I'll have no reason to track you down. And that would be such a shame."

I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. His logic was infuriatingly charming, and the grin he wore told me he knew he was winning.

"Fine," I relented with a dramatic sigh, clutching the jacket back to my chest. "You win."

His smile softened into something warmer as he leaned down, brushing a kiss against my lips. It was quick, light, and left me wanting more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice like a caress.

I huffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Don't push it."

But he kissed me again, this time slower, deeper, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me closer. I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against mine.

"Nyx," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a chuckle. "I have to go."

"One more," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

I hesitated, but the bond between us tugged insistently, and I found myself nodding. "Fine."

This time, he kissed me like he wanted me to remember it, to carry the taste of him back with me to Spring. His hands framed my face as his lips claimed mine, the kiss lingering, searing itself into my memory.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breathing uneven. "Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," I echoed, my voice soft, but my resolve firm.

With one last lingering glance, I winnowed back to Spring Court Manor, the taste of him still on my lips and his jacket clutched tightly in my hands.

My father was going to kill me.

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girl-lostconnection · 2 days ago

Text

Continuation that I promised to come back with as a response to this ask

The Lad

Simon doesn’t think much before choosing military. He’s never been much for academics and military at least guarantees some stable income.

Yeah, at the expense of his health and possibly life but well, at least he gets to make something out of himself. (At least he gets away from home and dad and heavy Manchest skies)

Simon can’t stand the thought of you “settling” for him.

Because you are bloody brilliant, you are soft and beautiful and strong. And impossibly, you love him.

You haven’t said it yet, you are keeping it close to your heart but you don’t need to — it’s something even he can see.

Simon wants to be something worthy of that love.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he announced that he’s going away to serve in military but it definitely wasn’t this panicked look in your eyes and trembling hands because hey…hey hey hey, it’s okay, love, it’s not permanent, yeah? He will come back to you, of course he will, sweetheart, do you think he’d just leave the best thing ever happened to him?

Darling, you are everything and he’s just a kid from a broken home and broken family and he wants to be something. He wants to feel that he actually deserves all that love and care.

He wants to know that he is something to be proud of, that you won’t be wasting away with someone like him.

Your future is bright even if you don’t get into fancy university or college, but Simon is bottom of the barrel in the grander scheme of things.

He wants to work for his place by your side.

He wants to come back and know that he deserves be with you, that he deserves to ask for you to stay with him. Forever and always.

But it all can wait because for now he wraps himself around you — tall and lanky, sharp angles softening around you, short tight kisses to the crown of your head.

He’s gonna come back, love, he promises.

Simon holds you tight and ignores the way his own eyes sting because god, the time would crawl while he’s away from you. Because he never wants to spend another day without you but he knows that if he doesn’t do something to prove to himself and everyone else that he can make something of himself…he will regret it for the rest of his life.

So he rasps out “write to me, will ya, luv?”, thumbs swiping away your tears, backpack slinged over his shoulder, your scarf wrapped around his neck.

And he’s so scared, he’s so fucking scared because it will take him at least few years before he can come back. And what if you meet someone else? What if someone who’s already worthy of your softness comes by when he’s out there bleeding and clawing his way up?

What if he comes back changed and you won’t want him anymore?

What if-what if-what if-what if.

But you kiss him before he goes and it’s salty from tears, it’s desperate and it’s so hungry he remembers that even if you didn’t have anyone you two always had each other. Nothing would change it.

All he can do is jump off the cliff and hope that his wings appear on the way down.

You are both crying when he finally gets on the bloody bus, eyes red-rimmed and noses sniffling but you pepper his wet face with kisses, hiss that he has to come back, that you will kill him if he won’t.

And Simon can’t help but laugh — sound wet and gurlgy from the mucus and all the water but he’s smiling again, eyes impossibly soft because god, you truly are something, aren’t you, love?

“You are magic, luv. Never forget tha’. Never forget me, olright? I’ll come back”, he sounds almost reverent, voice thick with devotion and something else, hands holding your face like the most precious thing in the world.

He’ll come back. Just wait for him, okay?

Goodbye, love.

And goodnight.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #girl.snippets #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #unsweetened lemonade #anon strawberry #ghost cod #simon riley x y/n

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freakydeaky6969 · 1 day ago

Text

Training officer Leon Kennedy x Fem Rookie Reader

WARNINGS: PROFANITY, IMPLIED AGE GAP, AWKWARD SITUATIONS, Litterally nothing else but part 2 is a little friskier

Word count:

I have part of part.2 if y’all want it just lmk😛

Oh and this is NOT proofread so sorry🙃

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The mindless buzz of the radio echoed through the dirty policed issued junker. Street lights illuminating your face through the dusty windshield. The pitch black darkness of the outside blanketed the ground casting darkness around the light of the streetlights on the sidestreet where you and your TO were parked.

Yet another long houred stakeout you and your training officer had to babysit. Being a rookie meant long grueling hours and staying in a shitty motel paid for by the department.

You and your training officer’s shift was from 5am to 9pm. Usually your shifts aren't this long but your TO, Officer Kennedy volunteered the two of you for the long shift without you knowledge, of course. He is always looking for more hours to teach you the ins and outs of police work. He really is passionate about his job.

You take the hand your head was resting on and bring it out in front of your exhausted eyes to check the time on your watch.

8:56

Only 4 more minutes of this awful silence before you can sleep in some shitty motel bed to do this all over again.

It’s not that your training officer is boring, quite the opposite actually. The two of you can talk for hours on end about everything and nothing at the same time. Talking about things from life and philosophies to stupid things like movies and tv shows. However, he was very passionate that stakeouts are supposed to be silent.

If he wasn't your training officer and ahead of you in your chain of command you’d totally ask him out. Not only did the two of you instantly click the day he was assigned to be your training officer but he really is gorgeous. He has a sharp defined jawline, sandy blonde hair pushed back out of his face, pretty pinkish lips that look so soft, and piercing blue eyes that you could stare into for hours and never get bored.

“You done daydreaming rookie, our shift is over” Kennedy says with a tired smile, already out of the car holding your door open waiting for you to get out.

“Oh shoot sorry” you say sleepily apologetic, hurrying out of the vehicle before he shuts the door, letting out an awful creaking noise. “Is this junker the best they can afford?” you say staring judgefully at the beat up dirty black sedan you've been sitting in for the past 17 hours.

He huffs out a breathy laugh, “Oh this is nothing, you should've seen the trash they stuck me with when I was a rookie. You should be glad I'm your TO, we got one of the better ones”. He says while starting to walk towards the gas station you were meeting up with the next shift at.

He looks back to make sure you're catching up to him as you lagged back looking at the dents on the car.

You hurry up to his side, continuing a normal pace to match his.

“I can’t wait to take this uniform off and go to sleep” you say sighing whilst walking on the sidewalk just inches away from Kennedy.

“Me too, I'm exhausted, that had to be the longest shift of my career. But if it gives you valuable stakeout experience I'm all for it” Kennedy says, turning his eyes to meet yours with a sleepy smile. “And you're not horrible to be around y’know” he says staring into your eyes so strongly you think he must see your soul.

‘God if he was someone, anyone else, I’d be with him right now’ is all you could think when he gave you that sweet genuine smile. And you know he cares about you, he's gone in the line of fire to protect you countless times, but that's just his job, right?

You smile back at him and stare back into his icy blue eyes that were anything but cold. You’d swear that coworkers don't look at each other this way, but you have a tendency to be a little delusional. ‘We’re just two coworkers who flirt a little, that's normal’, you tell yourself.

After breaking eye contact your mind starts wandering. Maybe you aren't being delusional?

Kennedy looks over seeing you lost in thought staring off into space as you approach the brightly lit gas station. A red and blue “Open” sign flashed in your eyes catching your attention at the same time as his words “You okay rookie? You spaced out on me there” he says with nothing but concern on his pink face.

You immediately become flustered and feel your cheeks heat up so much they must be steaming in this bitter cold weather, realizing that you were daydreaming about the man standing right next to you. “Uhh yeah” you say hoping he doesn't pick up on your blush.

“You daydreamin’ about me or something” he says with a sly smile after he spotted your cheeks warming.

Your eyes shoot open before slapping him on his arm “shut up, you wish” you say with a scoff so he doesn't notice you internally screaming at yourself.

He chuckles and opens the door for you gesturing for you to walk in infront of him.

‘Ugh at this point I'm gonna fall in love with him before I become an actual officer’ is all you can think as he walks beside you to the employee break room of the gas station, opening the door for you once again. You catch yourself staring at the way the cuff of his shirt gets tight on his thick bicep when he moves it.

You enter the room and lock eyes with the night shift. A pale brown haired man with a 5 o’clock shadow standing stiffly in an isolated corner. The screen of his phone lit up his pale face highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. A stereotypical night shifter.

Kennedy tells him what we’ve learned over the course of our shift and the pale man nods before walking out of the room without another word.

Kennedy grabs a backpack and the cash on the table left by the department to use at the nextdoor motel for us to stay at until our next shift since it's so early, and this stakeout is particularly far. He opens the doors for you, as usual, and starts heading to the motel.

The flashing red light from the broken motel sign lights up Kennedys face beautifully. Painting every crevice of his face in deep red light. The red mixes with the blue of his eyes making them appear to be grey, and more beautiful than ever.

When you get inside you walk up to the older lady wearing a brown blouse sitting at the stand. “Hi, could we have two rooms please, preferably with anything bigger than a twin bed” you say with a polite smile.

“Sorry sweetie we’re fully booked, only got a room with a full” the lady says in a thick Appalachian accent.

“A room?” Kennedy asks from a step behind you.

“Yup, ‘ts all we got” she says with an unbothered shrug.

You and Kennedy exchange glances and you sit in silence trying to come up with a win-win solution to your problem.

He brings his hand up to place it on the back of his neck looking at you in an awakened silence. “Why don’t you take the room, my car isn’t too far, I can slee-”

You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence “Hell no it's freezing outside, im not letting you sleep in your car”. You say like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard before turning back to the lady at the stand. “We’ll take that room please” you say with a smile and turn back to Kennedy. “We’re both grown adults, we can share a room” you say insistently.

He shrugs and grabs the room key from the lady and heads toward your room on the second floor. While going up the stairs you notice him look at you with a sly smile “Jeez rookie if you wanted to share a bed with me this badly you could’ve just asked”.

You whip your head over to meet his, giving him a dirty look and rolling your eyes. “I did not” you say with a blank face.

“You sure? Seemed pretty insistent on me sleeping with you” he says smirking at his carefully chosen words.

“Gross, we’re sharing a bed not having sex. This is real life not one of your little fantasies” you say chuckling at your remark when you see his face drop.

Kennedy tries to come up with a comeback but is left blank. He scoffs “Whatever” before arriving at the door to your room reading ‘206’. He opens it and ushers you inside and out of the frigid cold.

When inside he plops down his small black and grey backpack he had kept at the gas station. He unzips the bag you didn't even realize he had, and starts pulling out shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in. He looks over to see you staring at him when he realizes you didn't have a bag with you.

“Did you seriously not bring a change of clothes?” he asks, looking genuinely shocked since you’re usually quite prepared.

“I completely forgot” you say slapping your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes and groaning at the thought of sleeping in your uniform.

He chuckles at your moping before throwing a shirt and some boxers at your head. “Here” he says with no elaboration.

You feel the slap of fabric on your face, looking at his clothes now at your feet. “No way, i'm not making you sleep in uniform” you say while picking up his clothes from where they had fallen on the floor. Walking up to him holding them out.

“Don’t worry about it, I brought shorts i'll just sleep in those” he says innocently like it's nothing.

You hesitantly accept and head to the bathroom to change. ‘Sleeping in a small bed with Leon Kennedy. In nothing but shorts. What could go wrong’ you think nervously while staring in the bathroom mirror. You change and stare at yourself in the mirror. Dressed in his clothes that smell just like him has you feeling all kinds of things. You walk out of the bathroom and stop in place when you see leon on his phone standing by the bed in nothing but shorts. Your eyes trail from his biceps, across his chest, down his toned muscular stomach, and a trail of sandy blond hair leading down into his shorts. Realizing where you are staring you snap your eyes back up only to see him staring at you dressed in his baggy clothes.

“Wow uh, you look good” he says almost out of breath.

“I'm just in a t-shirt weirdo” you say, feeling your cheeks heating up at his staring. You walk over to your side of the bed and plop down on your back and shut your eyes. Letting out the deepest breath you feel like you’ve been holding on to all day. You seriously were so tired you could fall asleep in seconds. Instead, you chose to force yourself back up to turn off the main light. You’re feet hit the cold floor jolting you awake. You turn off the light and turn around, going back to the bed you see Kennedy already under the covers. Part of you is a little sad you don’t get to stare at him just a little longer.

You follow his lead and climb under the covers and get comfortable. You lie on your back staring at the ceiling ‘why can't I fall asleep? I just worked way too many hours to be restless’ you thought to yourself. Too deep in thought to notice Kennedy in the same position but staring at you instead of the ceiling.

You look back over at him, finding his bright blue eyes through the darkness of the stuffy motel room. He was almost analyzing your face. Every feature, every freckle, every mole, every perfection.

“You’re so beautiful y’know” he says out of the blue. It’s not unusual for the two of you to flirt by any means, but this felt different. Felt real. Like everything we’ve said before was just jokes up until now.

#fanfic #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy smut #leon Kennedy is so sexy

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kiszjuli · 1 day ago

Text

BREATHING .ᐟ

✸ donghyuck x reader | genre. angst w happy ending | w.c. 1.1k | ╳

"hey...can...can we talk?" donghuck, your ex as of only a month ago stood outside your front door. his breathing heavy; as if he had ran to your house. the moonlight shinning dimly behind him, you stared with parted lips. your heart pounding as you silently step aside letting him in.

when i just want to settle down heavily you approach me like the moonlight and talk to me

you and donghyuck had a hard break up, neither one of you wanting it in the first place. it was fueled by a string of misunderstandings and frustrations with life. he had gotten home late, exhausted from his whole day of working, so he was already not in a great mood. not that you were either, your boss having been on your ass all day. needless to say, you two got into an argument that you had been trying to avoid.

i'm so up and down that i can't stop i am full of unanswered questions

during the heat of the argument, you both said things you didn't mean. you wish you had know what this stupid argument was going to do to your relationship.

letting out a frustrated sigh you stand from the couch. "you don't get it hyuck! you've been so distant lately, and i feel like i'm the only one trying to make this work. i get it, you're busy, but i am too! and when you are here, it's like you aren't even really here!"

donghyuck stands and raises his voice slightly. "baby, i'm trying! you think this is easy for me? i'm working nonstop, and it's not like i don't care about you anymore...but i can't just drop everything to reassure you of that! i'm tired of you making it seem like i don't wanna be with you!"

you feel yourself getting emotional.

"that's not what i'm saying...i just..i feel like you don't have time for us anymore," your voice cracking as you speak.

donghyuck is hurt by your words, but he masks it with his frustrated voice. "what do you want me to do, y/n? you don't think i feel the same way? every day i can't be here? it hurts me too you know..."

there's tense silence before he speaks up again. "i can't keep trying if you keep making it seem like i'm the only one messing up here..."

your head tilts, feeling your emotions take over your words completely.

"i can't do this anymore donghyuck..i don't wanna keep trying if you've already given up!"

this makes him angry. he felt like you weren't even listening to a thing he said.

"you know what, maybe we're better off apart!" he yells across the couch in your living room.

your heart sinks. "..maybe we are!"

"fine!" he storms passed you to the bedroom to grab a bag and some of his clothes.

you follow him, obviously not wanting him to leave. "wait..." you say as you stand in the doorway.

"this isn't how i want things to end, i think we both just need to cool off," he says and walks passed you to leave, afraid if he actually stopped he would stay.

as he walked out of your house, your words died in your throat, being choked up by tears. you didn't see him again after that, nor did you two speak to each other. that whole month felt like hell. everything seemed to remind you of him, haunting you of your immature words that night.

i've been searching for another meaning will we be able to see each other?

which all leads to the reason why you let him in without another word, shutting the door behind him. he steps in, his familiar and comforting smell enveloping you.

you look up at his once so bright and lively face, seeing his beautiful eyes red with small bags forming under them. your heart clenched.

he takes a deep breath trying to steady his voice before speaking. "i don't...know what to say really. i've been thinking about everything, every day. and.. i hate myself for how thing ended. i should've fought harder- i should've said more." he looks up at you with a pained look.

your face softens a little, trying to hold it together. "donghyuck... it’s not just about the words. you weren’t... there. it felt like i was invisible, like i didn’t even really matter."

his eyes fill with immense regret and pain knowing that he caused this hurt for you. "i know. i know i messed up. i got so caught up in everything—my work, my distractions—that i forgot about us. and the worst part is… i didn’t realize it until you were gone... until you weren’t there anymore,"

donghyuck steps closer to you, reaching for your hands slowly. your warm hands in contrast to his cool ones. you squeeze them a little.

"y/n, i- i feel like i don’t have any air without you. i don’t know how to exist without you in my life, without your voice, without your smile. everything feels so... empty without you. i need you.."

your eyes well up with large tears that spill over without being able to hold them back.

you're my last chance to go back i don't have any air without you

"you don't know how hard it was to watch you leave like that..after what i had just said to you about never being here-" you break down.

his heart seems to break all over again and he pulls you into his arms. you immediately wrapped your arms around his middle, tucking your face into his chest.

"i'm sorry baby, never again will i make you feel that way. never, m'so sorry for hurting you..so sorry.." he holds back his own tears, as he tightens his grip around your frame.

"missed you so much," you say between huffs of air from crying.

breathing, inhaling all the air think about you i reach out and hold you, who shined on me in the darkness

he needed you to understand that he would never make you feel that way again. he pulls away just enough to grab your cheeks in his hands, wiping away tears that stained your face. looking deeply into your eyes he spoke firmly. "i swear to you, i will never let you feel that way again. i'll make sure you never feel invisible or unloved again. i'm gonna fight for us, always." he never falters in his words.

"i love you, donghyuck," you mutter looking up at him.

"i love you baby, always."

when i open my eyes i am at the end of a long night it's warm when i feel our hands holding each other's and my heart starts beating

—

🎧 — breathing by nct dream

#nct #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #haechan angst #breathing nct #nct drabbles #haechan drabbles #kiszjuli

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igotanidea · 3 days ago

Text

(7) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1/ part 2 / part 3 / part 4/ part 5 / part 6

A/N: ladies and gentlemen I give you : THE FINALE! happy early b-day @pookieisme4life 🎁🎁 (I was about to wait till 24th but it turned out impossible I am so excited to post it!!!)

***

„Who the hell are you?”

Honestly, he could care less about the ID of the mystery person, nor he hoped for the actual answer, but the initial shock did just that.

They were driving towards some unknown destination that was allegedly the location of the place Y/N was taken to.

“Nice try, Nightwing. Keep dreaming” the person, who was already deemed as a woman, laughed, swirling abruptly yet skillfully.

“Seriously you can’t just expect me to address you in a hey, you way.”

“Valid point. For the sake of it, let’s settle on calling me Shadow.”

“Fine. Whatever. Now why are you helping me?”

“I did some bad things In my life. Maybe this is my way of making up for them.”

“Huh. Seeking redemption?”

“Pretty nice trope, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was actually pretty nice to be able to use humor even in dire situations. “I was always a sucker for the character who wants to do better in their life.”

“Yeah. At least you chose a better way to do so than my brother.”

“You mean Red Hood?”

“For someone I don’t know shit about, you seem awfully knowledgeable about my family ties.”

“Intel is everything, Nightwing. And yes, I know what your other brother, Red Robin, might say.”

“Who the hell are you?!” At this point Dick was really getting curious.

“A friend.” She responded, looking right at him, her eyes shining from behind the mask.

***

“Let me go!!”

“Easy princess. Behave or this might actually get worse for you.”

“LET ME GO!!” she struggled against the binding on her wrist and the sack put on her head.

“What did I tell you, you bitch!?” She was abruptly pulled out of the car and thrown onto the ground. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Fuck you!”

“If I were you, I’d cooperate, you little slut. Otherwise we might have to scar that pretty face of yours more than it’s necessary.”

With a sharp movement the sack was torn off her head and she had to squint her eyes from the light that hit her eyes with excessive force, reinforced by the fact she had just spent god knows how much time in a dark car with eyes covered.

“Shit…” there was no possibility to hold back the hiss and a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Yes. Yes sunshine, you’re in deep shit.” The kidnapper kneeled to her level and caressed her cheek in a condescending gesture, obviously misreading her tears as a sign of fear and submission. “So pretty…”

“Piss off!” she acted instinctively, ending up with a slap on the cheek and stinging sensation that only added to her anger.

“Didn’t I tell you to behave?”

“I had a stinking sack on my head, maybe there was something wrong with my hearing at the time and – “ her head spun to the side as another slap, this time far harder landed on her cheek.

“Well you definitely heard me now. And if you didn’t I won’t hesitate to remind you again. Now get up, we’re taking you to the boss.”

Great.

She was in a freaking video game, when two brainless thugs captured her for a reason that was still a mystery to her and was now taking her to the den of a final boss on the level.

***

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

Should she even be surprised that said den had a design of a video game? Dark, cold, adjourned with different kinds of weapons scattered here and there, huge desk in the middle and three monitors that took up the entire wall?

Almost grotesque.

But hey, who was she to judge the taste of Gotham’s criminals, right?

She probably should have been terrified, praying to every higher power to be saved by Batman, Red Hood, Robin or – damn – even Poison Ivy in the worst case, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to that particular emotion. It was like her brain refused to anchor in reality and everything turned into a freaking dream she was sure to wake up from any second now.

Though maybe getting back to reality in which Dick was still with Sienna and she was brokenhearted wasn’t really a good alternative.

Right. Dick.

Did he even notice her gone? Or was he too busy patching things up with his girlfriend, already forgetting about Y/N? The girl he claimed to love?

A kick in the back of the knees that send her to the floor (again) made her realize that while getting lost in her thoughts she missed the obviously very important and very detailed speech of the villain who was describing his wicked plan to take over the world and –

“Ouch!”

“Stupid bitch.”

“It hurts!” she tried to squirm away from the kicking but it was immensely hard with her hands still bound.

“Hold the fire, boys. Easy. The lady is our guest after all and this is not how we treat guests, is it?” The goons chuckled darkly, because clearly guests were deserving of a far more cruel and brutal treatment. “Now, now, don’t be scared little one. We won’t hurt you. Much. At least not until you give us what we want.”

The owner of a deep, husky voice, who clearly was the host of the party finally decided to step forward and show his face.

Well.

Not exactly showing his face.

***

“Could you at least tell me who we’re dealing with here?!” Dick muttered, keeping his voice low as he and Shadow pulled at the abandoned building on the outskirts of Gotham. “Do you even know?”

“Why? Does it matter?” Shadow joked “Would you use a different contingency plan for Riddler and another one for Two Face?”

“Could you please stop joking about it? This is my girlfriend we’re talking about!”

The emotions started to come to the surface, and Nightwing started becoming uncharacteristically scatter-brained.

“Idiot. Keep it down!” Shadow hissed, pulling him behind the corridor crease, miraculously avoiding the watchful gaze of the guardian. “Here’s what I get for putting myself at risk. Nightwing announcing his presence to the entire compound filled with criminals. Get yourself together. Or is it too hard for you?!”

Dick grimaced. He hated himself at the moment. For both losing his cool, especially in front of someone who could hold it against him and for missing on precious time since every second counted.

“Y/N. Think about Y/N.” he muttered to himself “She needs your help. Now more than ever.”

He took a few deep breaths, calming down the storm inside him to the point where he was actually in control and capable of turning the fear and concern into anger.

If anyone touched his Y/N….

“You back?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m back.” He opened his eyes, completely focused, eyes sharp, instincts on high alert. “Tell me who’s the fucker who dared to take her.”

“Black Mask.”

“Fucker.” The word left Dick’s lips without the involvement of his brain. That was how much he loved her. The golden boy, teasing, joking and playful nightwing turned into a machine, swearing and ready to freaking kill, almost Red Hood like.

“So? Ready to kick some asses?”

“After you.” The predatory smirk blooming on his face was a sign of incoming violence and spilling blood.

***

Her screams mixed with the ones coming from the corridor in a beautiful, gory cacophony of sounds. An ode painted with blood and pain. Maybe that was why for a longer moment no one in the room actually paid attention nor was willing to try and differentiate the sources of notes in the song.

Or maybe it was the fact that the goons’ cries were extremely high-pitched, almost reaching the same key as the yelling of a woman trapped in the torture machine, losing strength with every passing second.

“Oh no, no, no, no.” Black Mask laughed cruelly “you don’t get to pass out on me yet. Info first.” The iron grip on her wrist tightened even more, as if that was even possible, cutting into skin and muscle, amplifying the blood loss.

For the last whatever-time-passed she was kept on the edge of consciousness as if Black Mask was hoping that choking, hurting and injecting with some substance would cause her to lose inhibitions and finally blurt out the information he was so dead set on getting.

Who is Nightwing.

Who is Batman.

Any piece of information would turn out to be useful, but since the beginning of the questioning it became painfully clear that that stupid girl was either too weak or too strong to answer.

Too weak because it seemed that even the slightest amount of pain made her repeatedly pass out and too strong because on those intermittent periods where she actually was conscious and aware of the surroundings enough to talk was the one making her extremely stubborn and uncooperative.

And Black Mask was losing his patience.

Here he was, gracing that little scum with his presence instead of submitting her to the treatment of his lower men, with less than gracious methods and she had the audacity to be bratty.

A vicious circle in which he was using the moments to get information only to be refused, beating her again and ending up with a thoughtless body, achieving nothing, over and over again.

He should have just stuck to using his rat, skillfully planted in Gotham.

“Fuck!” he yelled seeing as once again she went limp on the chair only because he pulled her nail. “Stupid bitch!”

“Mmmmm…” Y/N muttered and for a moment the room was completely quiet save from her little whimpering.

And then –

“OUCH!”

“FUCK!”

“RETREAT!”

“The hell?” Black Mask walked to the door and looked through the peephole. “Fuck!” Seeing his guards and men being thrown in different directions, sounds of yelling and snapping bones alongside with blood streaming on the floor was not the best view before 7 p.m. and definitely not the best without his favorite drink. Under any other circumstances he would be giving zero fucks about the violence outside the safe door, but now – he had a plan to complete and no one, fucking no one would prevent him from succeeding.

The loud sound of a door’s guard crashing with the metal surface and pictorially sliding down with crushed skull caused Sionis to quickly recalibrate his plan.

Seemed like Red Hood was in the house. And not that Sionis was scared, but-

“Hold them back!” he yelled, grabbing the limp body of Y/N and rushing towards the safety exit, to the roof where his private jet was landed just in case of emergencies.

And this was clearly an emergency.

***

The door broke about 30 seconds after Black Mask rushed to the passage.

“You carry explosives with you everywhere?” Dick muttered, equally impressed and shocked.

“What? It comes in handy and -”

“AAAAH!” Both goons rushed at the two vigilantes before Shadow could finish a sentence, but their brave loud cries quickly turned to quiet, broken sobbing as they were laid down.

“Be a sweetheart and tell me where he went?” Nightwing leaned over the goon with an almost soft smile.

“mhm…” inert waving towards the passage was enough of an answer.

“Good boy. Thanks.”

***

“NO!!” she yelled as Black Mask was dragging her through the roof. Sudden realization of all the things that could go wrong making her much more valiant and strong. As long as she was still in Gotham and not exported to another city or – god forbid – country – could result in being deemed as another missing-without-trail- person.

That is – if someone was even looking for her in the first place.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes at the thought that she could be so easily forgotten.

And the terror she was holding back for so long, since the moment of being dragged into that black SUV, finally found a way out…

“NIGHTWING!!!”

***

“Y/N!!”

A dead man would hear that cry and even a dead man would rise from the dead at the sheer desperation beaming from the voice.

“Y/N!!! I’m coming!”

***

“You’re becoming a trouble!” Black Mask hissed, slapping her repeatedly, drawing another stream of blood this time from the broken lip.

“I – “

“I’m so done with you. Should have just killed you the second you turned out to be of zero significance to the cause. Now come here you little bitch-“

“No!!”

She blindly started to run away, only to trip (obviously) and ending up back in Sionis’ grip.

“NO!!”

He was too strong and she was too scared and stiff to fight anymore. Digging heels into the ground did no harm and was definitely no hindrance in being pulled towards the ledge of the 10-stories building.

“NO!!!!”

“Y/N!!”

Both the girl and Sionis froze for a moment as another male voice cut into the screaming match.

But it was too late.

***

“Go!” Shadow was probably the only one who didn’t lose cold blood. “GO!”

***

She was falling.

And it was beautiful.

Knowing that she would finally be free of all the pain, of all the heartbreak, of the guilt coming with betraying another girl by sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend. Liberated from being stuck in the memories of the past when she was actually happy, before everything went to shit.

“I love you Dick…” she whispered, finally crashing to the ground.

***

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Oh, come on, not this again!” Shadow hissed, extremely dissatisfied with the fact that everyone she encountered was far more interested in getting to know her personality, rather than fearing her killer skills.

For Black Mask it took a record time of ten minutes before calling defeat and ending up bound and being taken by the GCPD.

***

“Y/N.”

She opened one eye and much to her surprise found out that she was not a celestial body looking at her bloodied pulp of a body on the pavement.

“I love you too…” the warm embrace around her was welcomed but in time started to become a little suffocating and her battered body refused to be squeezed.

“Dickie…”

“Shh… shh, I got you.” He whispered again, caressing her hair, kissing her forehead, doing everything to assure both her and himself that it was all over and that he got her, that she was safe and he would never let it happen again. Never.

“H-How? W-what happened-? I – I thought-“

“You thought so little of me, didn’t you?”

“Idiot.”

“Hey!”

“Fucking prick! I swear if it wasn’t for this – “ she swung her injured arm in the air “I’d slap the hell out of you!”

“I saved you!”

“I almost died and you’re making jokes!”

Oh. Right. Maybe, just maybe given the circumstances it was slightly inappropriate.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. You better.” She pouted, but he knew better, wiping the unshed tears. “It’s over.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“What happened?”

“I’m an acrobat, remember? I jumped. And damn, I wish someone had that on video because it was really one of my best – Ouch! Ouch! Ok, ok! Stop it! Point taken!”

***

“How are we doing here?”

Once Sionis was seated in the back of a police car, hands were shaken and words of gratitude exchanged Shadow walked towards Dick and Y/n.

“I think she’ll live.” Dick teased with a smirk, predictably moving a safe distance away from his -- .

Right.

Maybe there was no happy ending after all with that messed up relationship thing hanging over their heads like a freaking axe.

“Can’t say the same about Nightwing though” Y/N pushed the thought away, settling on sending him a death stare for making fun of her again.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I think you made up for whatever crime you were trying to redeem, Shadow. Thank you. I owe you. You saved my –“

“Girlfriend?” Shadow prompted, looking between Y/N and Dick, making them both blush in a bit of embarrassment.

“It’s complicated-“ they both said at the same time.

“Oh, trust me, it’s not complicated at all!” Shadow laughed

“What do you mean? You don’t know-“

“I know more than you think. Haven’t I proved that already?” Shadow turned around, making sure no one was watching and slowly took of her mask.

***

Fast forward. One week later.

Y/N was walking out of the hospital. It seemed like her arm was healing nicely and there were no complications, though her doctor was very stern while telling her she was supposed to rest and not get herself involved in any form of physical activity.

If he only knew that she was in a relationship with Gotham’s and Bludhaven vigilante.

“Y/N!”

Speaking of which, said vigilante was now honking at her from his Porsche.

“Showoff!”

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

She laughed and jumped inside the vehicle.

“You’re supposed to hold the doors open for me!”

“Mh. Missed you too, sunshine.” He leaned over the gearbox kissing her with a cheeky grin. “How’s the hand?”

“She’ll live.”

“Quoting me already, princess? Careful, I might think you consider me a superstar or something.”

“Idiot!”

“Ouch! You’re hurting me. But I’m willing to forgive you, giving the circumstances of late.”

He started the engine and took the way to the city.

“Yeah. Crazy, right?” her head fell onto the car’s headrest and she sighed heavily. “I mean – who would have thought…”

***

Flashback

“S-Sienna!?”

“Hey you two.”

“h-hey? What do you mean “hey”?! What is this?! Some sick joke?!”

In her stupor Y/N missed the fact that Dick was as shocked (if not more) as her. Hence it couldn’t have been any conspiracy against Y/N’s mental health.

“Whoa! Whoa! Relax!” Shadow Sienna raised her hands in surrender “Dick-“

“The hell?! How do you know? Damn it-!” he forgot about all the rules of safety and tore off his mask. Getting to the bottom of this shit was far more important.

“- I meant what I said. Really! About that redemption arc! Just – just listen to me!”

“Five minutes.”

“It was all a scheme-“

“Well let me tell you, your explanation is starting off the wrong foot” Dick groaned, pulling Y/N to his side to strengthen her mentally.

“I am Black Mask’s niece in the second line!” Sienna explained dramatically “wait-! Wait-! I have no loyalty to him! Not anymore!”

“One minute left.” Dick hissed

“It was all a plan. He had some vague idea about the ties between the one Dick Grayson and Batman and Y/N and wanted to use all of you against each other.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Yes, fine! I was his spy for a moment, but then you two-. God! You love each other! And I just couldn’t- I couldn’t-“

Y/N wriggled out of Dick’s embrace and walked to Sienna, grabbing both her hands in her healthy one.

“Thank you.”

End of flashback

***

“I really hope you took your golden visa with you, cause I am about to go crazy with this shopping spree.”

“Hey. No limits on Bruce’s cards. He won’t even notice the loss of a couple thousands and I got my girl back, so-“

“I think we should send-“

“I already took care of that.”

After all the trouble and drama they got their happy ending.

***

In another part of town a certain girl found a fruit and sweet basket on her doorstep. With a little, but meaningful card.

It seemed like she found her happy ending too.

One in which she was no longer used by anyone and treated as a villain.

With the view for a future of freedom.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p @madness1999sworld

@leovergurl

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson angst #nightwing angst

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beloveds-embrace · 1 day ago

Note

I’m sorry this is gonna be long but i was just listening to “Labour” by Paris Paloma and it reminded me so much of the angst DukeDom AU you are writing (which is absolutely fire, you are so good, i love it very very much)

Cause the “emotional torture from the head of your high table” part hit me so hard because that’s literally (in my head) John Price in your AU with how deliberately ignorant he became to Reader’s suffering.

“Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting” it reminded me so much about the angst part where Reader catches cold and later looses limb. But also…Kyle (I’m sorry) because once you wrote that he brushed reader off and treated her like he couldn’t be bothered to answer her questions and yk my brain made connection.

And oh my god the “I’m getting fucking tired” verse of the song is literally (again, in my head, I’m not trying to say i know your AU better than you do, it’s your baby, I’m just having fever thoughts) Reader when she gets fed up with them.

I especially love the “The capillaries in my eyes are bursting. If our love died would that be the worst thing?” because it feels a lot like her when the fire inside of her starts to finally dim because everything has just been too much and she doesn’t handle it well, because her cookie duchy is crumbling on her head.

“For somebody I thought was my saviour you sure make me do a whole lot of labour” reminds me a lot about the way she probably arrived to the duchy at first, getting married to John and not knowing what was actually waiting for her. And in all honesty, it’s not her fault he married her. But it somehow became her responsibility once everyone’s (stuff, the rest of 141, John himself) disapproval and blatant disregard started to pile up.

“I know you’re a smart man, and weaponise the false incompetence, it’s dominance under a guise” which may not fit fully but the way i felt like reaching through the screen and shaking John Price sometimes because yeah, you brought Reader into your home, your duty was to care for them and take care of her and you DIDNT. And worst of all, you allowed others treat her like nothing.

“If we had a daughter, I’d watch and could not save her the emotional torture from the head of your high table. She’d do what you taught her, she’d meet the same cruel fate” and it’s purely my thought but what if in angst branch of your AU Reader was actually feeling glad that John never came to consummate the marriage thinking about fate that could meet her baby. Especially if it was a girl (oh my god, my Sheila).

“So now I’ve gotta run so i can undo this mistake. At least I’ve gotta try” reminded me a lot about your Reader running away in some parts of this AU because yeah, she was looking for different life (rightfully so) and the realisation that the things as they are might never change actually pushed her towards moving into entirely different directions.

I love love LOVE that song, so to have my writing compared to it in any way? 😩 I’m amazed, thank you so much for your thoughts anon!! 🫶🏻💕

#noona.asks

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ecstxsyy · 3 days ago

Text

SO HIGH. | E. DIAZ

Eddie Diaz is one hell of a drug.

18+ mdni !

eddie diaz x fem reader

warnings: alcohol use, intoxicated sex, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, slight edging (f receiving), squirting, facials, porn with very little plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight degradation, cum eating.

EDDIE DIAZ is unexpectedly the life of the party. Sure, he seems like he’d be fun, but never like this.

It started at Chimney’s “bachelor party”, which he never actually showed up to. Buck had been excitedly planning it all week, all the while Chimney was telling him that he never wanted a bachelor party and Buck being Buck, insisted that he planned one for him. Now, here you sat.

You, Eddie, and Buck counted the minutes as they passed, praying at least someone would show up or at least come back to keep them company.

After about 20 or so minutes, Buck finally realized no one was coming and made the bright decision to invite the other people outside clubbing into the private suit.

After many tequila shots and bad decisions, the group of you had somehow ended up at Chimney’s hotel room. You all stormed in, immediately beginning to party all over again.

You, Eddie, and Buck raced to Chimney’s door, knocking to try and get him up. When you received no response you joined the rest and continued to party.

You couldn’t remember what part of the night got you to where you were now, pinned beneath Eddie’s weight as you kissed fervently.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Eddie asked for what you swore was the millionth time.

“Yes, Eddie, I’m positive.” You said through sloppy kisses.

“Just don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you.” He sighed as he kissed down the side of your neck.

“Eddie.”

“Hm?” He hummed as he looked up at you through his eyelashes, kissing down your collarbone.

“Shut up and fuck me.” You moaned as he sucked on your skin, hickey’s blooming in his wake.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Eddie mumbled into your skin, tapping your elbow to raise your arms so he could remove your shirt.

Pieces of clothing continued to fly as he stripped you from head to toe, worshipping your skin slowly as it was revealed. He loved the way you tasted, his tongue peaking out occasionally to lick the skin beneath his lips.

At this point, you were a sensitive writhing mess. You wanted nothing more than for him to just fuck you, but if you knew Eddie at all, you knew he’d tease you until you physically couldn’t take it anymore.

“Eddie please,” You begged, your pleas falling upon deaf ears.

Eddie continued on like he’d never heard you, trailing kisses down your inner thigh, getting dangerously close to your pussy without ever actually touching it.

You bucked up into his face, attempting to get some relief from the heat bubbling in the pit of your stomach. This made Eddie nip your thigh, soothing the area with his tongue immediately after.

“So impatient, Cariño.” Eddie teased, “but, I suppose I’ve made you wait long enough.”

Eddie dove straight in, eating you out like a starved man being set in front of a feast. He immediately sucked your clit into his mouth, teasing your entrance with the tip of his index finger, never actually inserting it into your heat.

Gasps and moans tumbled from your lips, his assault on your nether regions felt amplified. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe he really was just that good at giving head. Either way, you couldn’t care less. The only thing on your mind being how good he was making you feel.

Eddie felt like he could stay in this position forever, you tasted like heaven on his tongue and now that he’s had a taste he doesn’t know if he could ever stop.

“God you taste so good.” Eddie practically moaned into your pussy.

Those words made your stomach flutter as you looked down at him, the sight that greeted you nearly made you cum immediately.

Eddie was practically fucking the bed beneath him, grinding his hips into the sheets. He was getting off on just eating you out.

“God, Eddie. Look at you, you’re so pathetic.” You moaned, loving the idea that he’d suppress himself of pleasure just to get you off.

“Only for you,” he mumbled into your heat.

Eddie began pistoning his fingers inside of you, speeding up the pattern of his tongue. Your moans got louder and louder with this change, signaling to him that you were about to cum.

This made him halt his actions immediately, sitting back on his heels to watch you writhe and complain.

“Why’d you stop? I was so close.” You pouted.

“‘Cause i’m no where near being done with you.” He smirked, unclasping his belt and pulling his pants down barely enough to get his cock out.

Your jaw nearly fell off when you saw the size of him, pondering how and where it was supposed to fit inside of you.

You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about Eddie in that way before. You’d figured he’d be big, but, Eddie was hung.

“There’s no way you’re gonna fit.” You said in shock while Eddie stroked his cock slowly, spitting in his palm to lube himself up.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow to start, okay?” Eddie reassured.

You nodded as he lined himself up with your entrance, giving him silent consent to begin pushing himself deep inside your aching pussy.

“Oh fuck.” You gasped out, the ache of him stretching you out hurt so good.

Eddie slowly began giving you shallow thrusts, fucking more of his length into you with each thrust. His pace began to speed up quickly, he wanted to be patient for you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hold back. Tears of pleasure pricked your eyes as Eddie filled you to the brim. You’d never felt so full before, you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“Oh God.” You moaned loudly, your nails scratching down his back, leaving small scratches and blood droplets in their wake.

“God isn’t the one making you feel this good, baby. I am.” Eddie said cockily, pressing down lightly on the slightly visible outline of his cock in your stomach. You yelped with pleasure, your legs trembling around his waist as you struggled to put together a coherent thought.

His thrusts got deeper and deeper each time, his cock stroking a place inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. The little bundle of nerves shooting waves of pleasure all throughout your body.

“Eddie ‘m gonna cum.” You whimpered, your fingers moving to rub your clit while Eddie fucked you relentlessly. Eddie, noticing this, immediately slapped your hand away, using his hand to replace yours. He rubbed quick small circles into your clit that sent shivers up your spine.

“Go ahead, baby. I know it feels so good, go ahead and cum for me.” Eddie encouraged through panting breaths.

Your orgasm plowed through you in waves, a scream tearing its way out of your throat. Your body convulsed as you sprayed evidence of your orgasm all over the sheets and Eddie’s lower abdomen, you couldn't tell how long your orgasm lasted. All you knew was your ears rung for a solid 10 seconds after it finished wracking its way through your body.

“Got you gushin’ for me, Cariño.” Eddie smirked, catching a drop from his stomach on his finger and sucking it into his mouth.

Eddie eased his way out of you, pulling you up off the bed and pushing you to your knees on the floor.

His cock sat above your face in all of its glory, still hard and leaking precum. His tip was an angry red color and you knew he wanted to cum so bad.

“Open wide for me, I know you can take it.” Eddie encouraged, easing his cock between your lips.

You sucked him into your mouth immediately, too cockdrunk to think about anything else but the man in front of you. You swirled your tongue around his tip, taking his balls into your hand to massage them softly.

“Shit, baby, you’re so good at this. Such a good girl f’ me.” Eddie mumbled, pulling all of your hair into one of his fists, using it to guide your head up and down his cock.

All you cared about was pleasing him, he made you cum so good, the least you could do was return the favor.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum all over that pretty face.” Eddie said, beginning to use your hair to face fuck you. You simply sat back and relaxed, letting him do whatever he pleased to you to make himself cum.

When his hips began to falter, you knew he was about to cum. He pulled you up off of his cock and began stroking his length above your face, throwing his head back with a groan.

His load shot out onto your face in warm spurts, his hips thrusting to meet the strokes of his hand while he moaned.

Once he made sure his entire load was on your face, he smiled, patting your cheek softly before using his first two fingers to collect some of his cum off of your face.

“Open,” Eddie instructed firmly, your mouth falling open for him. He took his fingers and pushed them into your mouth, your lips closing around them as you sucked the salty fluid off of his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me.” Eddie smiled at you.

You could’ve sworn you felt high, maybe that was just the effect Eddie had on you.

#eddie diaz is hung !#eddie diaz #911 abc #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz x fem reader #smut #911 show #nay nay writes Eddie Diaz !#evan buckley #18+ mdni

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