philosophybits

[sadlynotthevoid]

I'm not sure if I told you guys about the time I dreamed that 20ish Jason Todd died yet again and Death was pissed off because "really? Again? Wtf Batman. The universe doesn't keep reviving your son just so you can see how much he lasts!" And "He has a work to do you know?!". Besides, she's fond of the bright young soul.

So, she calls her uncle to help him. And what you know? Her uncle is the God of Death (because yes, my brain is like that sometimes). They sit to talk and come up with a solution.

First, taking advantage of the effects still present of the last time-space crisis and the spirits protecting the soul, they regress the time of this universe to when Jay had just left All Caste, way before he had came back to Gotham.

Then, Death places Red Hood!Jason's memories on the soul of his younger self. Not too harsh to force his soul to crack, but not too light to let them fall. Just deep enough so he finds them when he meditates.

And by last, God of Death tells the spirits where they should guide the boy to. The perfect place for him.

Where is the best place for a soul who craves for home and safety? Of course, that's with someone who has the heart to care and accept a new loved one and the determination to protect them.

That's how Jason Todd, teenage assassin in an existential crisis, ends up waking up in the softest bed he has ever been in some foreign country. At his side there's a redhead teen sitting in a sofa, a book in his hands and other boy— this one with black hair and pajamas— lying on his lap.

The redhead— Cale, as he presents himself�� is mysterious but kind hearted guy. He also knows things. So much so that if he weren't as he is, Jason would suspect. As things are, he knows he's just used to collect information. A bit like a bat, but not quite. A bat would plan how to use it against the possible enemy. Cale? Well, he doesn't even bother to hide what he realized about him. He's also ridiculously casual about it.

Who offers an assassin if they want their hidden weapons back? This guy, apparently.

Jason only knows he's not totally unconscious because at one point an old guy entered with tea and pastries for the three and Cale, the little shit, choose that moment to reassure Jason.

"Don't worry. My butler is an assassin too and we don't treat him different for it."

The old geezer almost let got the porcelain teapot to the floor. Though, points for him for recovering so fast.

"Young master? May this Ron know who you would be talking about?"

"Hm? Who do you think? Hans? The only thing he can kill is Rok Soo's humor. It's you, obviously."

"..."

Rok Soo, the sleeping beauty complex guy pretending to be asleep on Cale's lap, was sweating badly. If everyone in the room weren't already aware he was clearly pretending, someone may had thought he was ill.

Later on, he realizes there was a reason Cale had said that at that moment.

He's looking at the butler subtly terrorize the boys to behave, treating the siblings like two particularly mischievous puppies. Then he turns around and uses the same tune to advise him to be careful with his wounds. And that's when he thinks 'Oh. He doesn't see me as a menace'.

Of course he doesn't. His employer just confirmed he's aware of his identity— at least partially— and his own nature. The biggest advantage of an assassin is their secrecy. After their identity is exposed, the only reason they won't attack is if the assassin believes the risk is worthy. Telling the assassin he knows he's an assassin was his way to show Jason's own intentions: none.

Jason didn't intend to end up in that field where these teens find him. He didn't intend to be brought in their vacation house. He definitely didn't plan that the people to found him passed out would be whoever these rich guys were.

But he didn't have anything against all of this either.

Well, maybe the wound. He could make it without the blood loose and the soon-to-be scar to add to his collection.

Either way, at least he had a safe place to stay and think. Just think. Because, the memories he saw— what is he supposed to do now that he has his answer?

His da— Bruce. Bruce didn't care for him as much as Jason does for Bruce. Bruce obviously didn't love him as he thought. And certainly, Bruce was way more willingly to harm him than he believed.

And Jason— well, Jason couldn't waste a second life on a man who didn't put hin even at the same level than the Joker of all people. But maybe his expectatives were too high? He hadn't planned what to do if his life was meaningless to him.

So, Jason needed time. Time to ponder and heal. Those things are better done in a safe place.

That's what Jason has in mind when Cale offers him to stay with them.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (8)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.

Day or night, Ewan will answer your call. 

Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”

He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.

“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory. 

Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?

Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity. 

All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”

“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”

“I know some mean things were being said about you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”

“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”

He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters. 

He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me. 

But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?

You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”

But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”

He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”

“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”

His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”

“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”

“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”

“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”

“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… I just – ”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”

“Ewan.”

You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”

“What are you going to do about that picture?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides. 

“What?”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet. 

“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”

You groan, “Ewan… ”

His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”

He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.

“Why?”

Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”

He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.

“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.

“See you soon, darling.”

All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.

Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind. 

This is enough, even for now. 

And so the song remains the same.

Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter. 

The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat. 

You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.

The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm. 

Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?

Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”

“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”

“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”

You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”

“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”

“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”

Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”

“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.

“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”

“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”

As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.

He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus. 

The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side. 

He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”

Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour. 

“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.

“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.

“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.

“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt. 

“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.

Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating. 

You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.

“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.

Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”

Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”

Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later. 

The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.

“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”

Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?

As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.

“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.

“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”

You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”

“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”

The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear. 

“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”

Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”

As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.

For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy. 

“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between. 

He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t. 

He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest. 

You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home. 

If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?

You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.

You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.

Fabien can only roll his eyes. 

Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place. 

Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire. 

Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected. 

He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”

“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy. 

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former. 

As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively. 

For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…

The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look. 

“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.”

You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line. 

“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.

You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”

“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied. 

The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.

His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”

“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”

That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you. 

For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.

In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.

His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”

You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”

You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”

“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”

“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.

“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”

Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”

You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.

But nothing feels right anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”

“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”

His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”

You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”

He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”

The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you. 

You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.

Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.

Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?

He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.

A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.

“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”

Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”

Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”

Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all. 

“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”

Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”

Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”

Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ” 

Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”

Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”

Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”

“I know why – ”

“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”

Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”

Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”

Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”

“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief. 

But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.

Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.

“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.

“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?

In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?

Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)

The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙

[luveline]

Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.

Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺

Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.

Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!

thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k

Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living. 

It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer. 

It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg. 

Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach. 

But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way. 

I’ll have to go back.

Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?

To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out. 

Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting. 

You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here. 

I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years. 

I won’t be your leech. 

You’re not my leech, don’t say that.

I can’t just not have money. 

Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask. 

Spencer… you’re my boyfriend. 

Exactly. 

No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that. 

He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing. 

You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you. 

A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back. 

He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.” 

Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?” 

“The money I owe you.” 

He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“No, seriously, please take it.” 

He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.” 

You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)

“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion. 

You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back. 

“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.” 

“You what?” he asks. 

“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy. 

“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.” 

Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?” 

“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.” 

He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do. 

Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!” 

He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“I might still strip,” you say. 

“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips. 

You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you. 

“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.” 

“I think I’m pretty good at it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.” 

Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.” 

“It’s just a part time job.” 

“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.” 

He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders. 

You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what. 

“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?” 

“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers. 

“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.” 

“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?” 

“Of course I do.”

Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough. 

[cloveroctobers]

I CAME HOME LATE — Terry Richmond [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: listen…I’ve been wanted to write for this man since he was Mid-sized Sedan 😆 but he definitely wasn’t being talked about enough then. This isn’t anything big but I’m here to feed the tag a little with this thing so I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ²¹⁾ steaming cups of sake + ²²⁾ an airport terminal at midnight.

WARNINGS: language and some angst?

<- check out my previous anthology prompt here.

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Being a night owl wasn’t foreign for you.

You were born when the twilight hit the evening sky and your mother always had a hard time getting you down for the night as a baby. For as long as Terry’s known you—since high school—it was no surprise to learn that night shifts were where you thrived best.

He’s at the airport terminal, not knowing your schedule but taking the risk to show up where you worked. He had the urge to be near you again once it was set in motion that he was selling his food truck to head east to start over with his cousin, Mike. Terry had no issue adjusting to change as long as it has substance in the end. He couldn’t leave without seeing you and although it’s been a minute since you both spoke, he didn’t take it personally.

You were his ex-wife after all but that didn’t mean that the utmost respect for you vanished. Ever. Terry made himself comfortable in the crisp cool of the quiet pale blue airport, sticking to the front of the large building but couldn’t help his eyes searching the area every so often for you. He had a feeling that you would be coming around sooner than later and exactly at 12:03am, he spots you being led to the revolving doors with a man who was dressed in security attire.

Your light laughter is almost childlike, a little raspy and airy as the both of you squeeze each other’s shoulders lightly in farewell for the night before you turn to face Terry’s direction.

“Terry,” your voice is hushed with a hint of croaking in it, which is unusual since you were normally upbeat once the moon shined but from the sound of it, the day at the airport must have been a long one.

Terry says your name with a dip of his head, eye contact always on lock, which you held before slowly closing your eyes, not knowing what to expect of this appearance.

“Everything good?” The security guard asks based on your reaction and you raise a hand up with a nod of your head, informing him that it was.

Terry briefly stared at the security guard underneath his lashes, who must have been a good friend of yours—not that good if he was letting you walk out into the night to your car on your own—sure you could handle yourself if it ever came down to it but it was the right thing to do.

“Y’all take care.” The security guard states as he realizes that Terry is no danger to you.

Terry gives a crooked smile, “you as well, man.”

You step to him, fixing the strap to your backpack on your left shoulder—your better shoulder that didn’t suffer from a extreme tear that took two surgeries to fix—, “what’s happening?”

“Hm…I thought it was a nice night so I took a ride.” Terry smirks at you while you roll your eyes and begin walking towards the automatic doors.

Throwing your head back as you stood on the sidewalk you glance at Terry and begin to walk backwards, “A nice night to throw my mind for a loop? You never did have good timing.”

He would have thought that was a jab, considering that the papers he sent your way two weeks before he got honorable discharge arrived in your shared mailbox the same day your elderly dog died. It’s not like the papers were a shock, it’s been discussed over many video chats but like you said, Terry Richmond didn’t have the best timing when it came to certain things.

He was a marine after all so timing kind of came with the profession…perhaps if you were looking for something to blame it would be that.

“Now we both know that isn’t a hundred percent true,” Terry lightly points, head downwards and a sly smile playing on the corner of his lips, “is it a crime to come see my favorite girl?”

Letting out an exaggerated yawn, you give him an expressionless face afterwards before spinning back around to head to the parking lot, with Terry following you into the foggy low sixty degree night. He’s holding the car door open for you after you unlocked it with your clicker and you’re shoving your things into the passenger side before taking a seat in the driver’s side.

You peer up at him, “Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” Terry starts, “come with me to Liu’s…just to talk.”

Raising your brows you say, “Why now?”

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” Terry questions.

Lifting your once slumped shoulders, you stare back at Terry and he’s never known you to be a liar.

“Should he have?” You press, “He’s never gotten into our shit before so why would he? If you wanted your business told, you should have said something to Ken.”

Terry snorts at the mention of Mr. Liu’s nephew.

He was a good guy but he was crap at secrets and excellent at taking direction.

“You’re not wrong,” The man with the goatee inhales, “look I won’t hold you…yet I’m leaving in the morning and i don’t know when I’ll be back. I just thought I should come by.”

He thought of you in the moment and there’s neber been a day where you didn’t think about Terry, all bright eyed and imagining the what if’s. The divorce had to happen, it was the right decision but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him.

Terry gave you the space you needed, he couldn’t keep coming around as if the whole trajectory of your relationship wasn’t altered. It never got disrespectful however you were very vocal once you returned home from work, finding every trace of him erased from the home except for pictures. A conversation was eventually had over dinner, a passionate night was shared and just like that he was gone in the morning. You feared that you would run into him in town often, since Mr. Liu’s was pretty popular and Terry’s truck was more lowkey and out the way with a good amount of locals— just how he preferred it.

You did the best staying away from that side of town for a while before you realized how silly you were being. Life didn’t have to stop because Terry was no longer in it. That was your choice. You were never the type of person to be so dependent on anybody before.

So you thought.

Being surrounded by family constantly…you never had to feel alone. Terry was the opposite, an only child raised by a single mother who was a pediatric nurse and worked nights. He found a bonus home with your family and became part of it, no questions asked.

“You’re leaving?” You quiz, “for how long?”

Terry can see you visibly flinch after the words slipped through your lips. You were trying to put up a shield or maybe even a boundary for not caring as much. Like a concerned wife should. Just like he said before, just because you’re no longer romantically involved didn’t mean he didn’t value your friendship.

“Don’t know. Heading out to Shelby Springs for Mike and a fresh start.” Terry states and it’s not like you can feel a way about that.

Inhaling air through your teeth you say, “that bama ass place?”

Terry tells, “I know. It’s a in and out type of thing. Getting a pick up and starting a business from as far as we can get from there.”

You don’t say anything but the look on your face says enough.

“…Don’t worry.” He starts.

Scoffing you reply, “who’s worried?”

“That pretty little face is.” Terry even pokes your cheek with his free hand that’s not holding the door open but you slap his hand away, leaving him smiling softly, “so…are you coming with me?”

“To Shelby springs? Hell no!” You jest with a wink, “I can go for a vegetable spring roll though.”

There’s amusement in Terry’s eyes as he nods, “that’s it?”

“I don’t like to eat heavy at night, remember?” You defend.

A hearty breakfast was always more your speed.

“Yin and Yang,” Terry smiles at a memory you don’t push for him to share because you’ve probably thought about it plenty times before whenever you had breakfast alone, “You’ll lead?”

“Course.” You give a small smile and Terry makes sure you’re all the way in before shutting the door behind you.

He follows behind you on his bike and the airport is a good distance from downtown. It’s not long before you’re trying to pull over but Terry just zooms past you, grinning back at you over his shoulder while you’re shaking your head in disbelief behind the wheel.

This was a challenge for Terry, a norm to not only test himself but you and you never backed down from a competition.

Letting out a low-whistle you comment, “Moving like that and you’re traveling to Shelby in the morning?” You say as you walk up to the doors where Terry is waiting, “you might be taking a long nap instead.”

The both of you were hardly sleepers, you with your hint of OCD and mind racing always finding something to do and Terry was always on military time even before he went into the field. He was the earliest riser and believed in that old saying, “the early bird catches the worm.” Your rest time together involved pillow talk, just breathing the same air either facing each other or you being the little spoon, and of course there were times where you both didn’t mind helping the other go to sleep.

After locking up his bike, he shifts the keys around on the ring to unlock the restaurant holding the door open, “Nah, I’ve got the best stamina in the world.”

Spinning to face Terry after he locks the door behind you two, you’re pushing your lips out with a tilt of your head once his eyes settle back on you. It’s a teasing smile and he’s leans towards you on his way by, “get your head outta the gutter.”

Laughing in between the stools, you turn to rest your elbows on the counter which Terry is behind now. He asks, “You down for some of Ken’s sake?”

“Ah…now I see.” You sigh dramatically, “you brought me here to get me drunk.”

Terry laughs, “no. I just remembered that you enjoyed it a lot back in Japan and Ken’s been experimenting thanks to his dad’s recipe all while offending Mr. Liu.”

Where you got married.

“I can’t even tell you the last time—fuck it! It’s your going away night and you should be honored that I’m here so why not?”

“How did this turn into praising yourself?” Terry jokes as he gets ready to prepare the warm beverage.

You grumble, “Somebody besides myself needs to.”

Terry flicks his spring green hues to you, “so you’re not seeing anyone?”

“It’s not the security guard.”

Terry frowns, “funny how I didn’t even mention him.”

Wagging your finger at him you respond, “I saw the way you were analyzing my friend with that high opacity setting that you call eyes.”

He pauses and snickers, “oh yeah? And what did they say?”

“You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt because that’s just how you are but…you were curious about us.”

“That was a thing then?” He quirks up a brow while you press your cheek into your fist.

“Nope!” You answer as you move to sit up on one of the chairs, “That gorgeous chocolate man is happily taken with four kids, with three of them being triplets.”

“Damn!”

“Terry.”

He laughs and then shrugs, “what? I’m only kidding…kids are blessings.”

You hummed as you watched him work for a while before he’s placing steaming sake in front of you.

“What should we toast to?” You ask, pinching at the glass before finding a safe spot of the cup to hold up, “Goodbye’s?”

Terry immediately furrows his brows, “come on now…you know that’s what I’m actually not good at. Look at this as more of an…until next time.”

Clinking your cup against his as a response, you both slowly sip at the hot sake and its sweetness is felt with its warmth. “Not bad, Ken. Not bad.”

You both share a laugh, letting the silence hit while the sake cools off some. The silence doesn’t last long before you’re both poking fun at each other and falling into more conversation. It flows even when it gets tense, blood burning as your feelings come to the surface with Terry listening to you intently and speaks to you calmly.

“When I brought up divorce the first time it was never to be manipulative…it was to save us both the heartache of this ongoing distance.”

You open your mouth to interupt but Terry stared at you from underneath your eyelashes, which makes you deeply sigh, “We grew apart but we tried. You know it and I know it. No matter how long you would have held me down it happened and I felt like you deserved better than that. I thought you felt the same way when you agreed and signed.”

It’s not like you signed right away! You actually took your sweet ass time, even when he pulled what he pulled.

“I mainly signed because you pissed me off, sneaking through the house to get your things like a thief in the night while I was at work. I should ask how you managed to do it all but then I remembered who you are.” You exhale, “I’ve got to get some hobbies besides working myself to the bone and constantly thinking about you. I should be over this already. It’s been months.”

“We did put in a solid five years of marriage though.”

Dated since senior year just for him to go off to the military three years later. The love and the effort was there but you been around a lot of military significant others at group meetings and their stories were much worse. So you tried to be thankful of the time shared but that didn’t mean you didn’t have your own sorrow too.

‘It’s not something you can just get over.’ Terry thinks.

“That we did.”

And it’s back to the eye game again and it makes your stomach feel like flipped flapjacks.

You can’t stand Terry Richmond.

He intertwined your fingers once you’re both outside. This was happening, he was leaving again and you chose to be numb about it on the outside but slightly achy on the inside. It was weird really, how you could both live in the same town and never run into each other but it still felt comforting to know that you were both out there carrying on—even if it wasn’t beside one another.

You wish he would hold you instead of your hand but Terry didn’t want to cross that line. Not when you revealed that your heart wasn’t really in it to sign the papers in the first place.

Squeezing his rough hand back before letting go, you’re aware that he’s crashing at the restaurant tonight so it’s closer in the direction he’ll be heading in the morning. Yet there’s still a part of you that wishes he would come home.

It’s early when your eyes peel open to focus on your block out curtains. They were the best investment you made (from a cousin you didn’t like—but no one can say you were never supportive) since it’s always sunny in this town and the only time you preferred light was in your kitchen and living room but you still have a feeling that it’s early morning. You sit up in bed, ears searching for any sound in your bungalow.

Your feet are sliding into your slippers, knuckles rubbing into your eyes as you peek at the clock on the nightstand to see it’s another 5am. As you’re handling your business in the bathroom across the hall from your bedroom, you can’t help that pull in your gut that brings you to the front of your home.

Flicking on the lights, you yelp at the sight of Terry sitting in the dark of the living room staring off in space.

It’s been days since you last saw him.

You pushed him to the back of your mind like you trained yourself to do. Putting your attention elsewhere and even picked up a hobby to keep yourself preoccupied besides just those long double shifts at the airport.

Now he was back and something shifted within him again that didn’t sit well to you. You carefully took a step towards him and his eyes followed you but much slower this time.

“Terry,” breathe his name, “…what’s wrong?”

He simply flips the palm of his hand over that’s resting on his knee and you reach out to place yours right in his while you move to sit next to him. Terry squeezes your hand like his life depends on it and it makes your heart rate spike, it doesn’t hurt—he’d never purposely do so—but it’s strong enough to let you know that he needs you.

“Can I get you something? Water? Those shady over easy eggs you like so much?”

That gets a snicker to escape his lips, always finding your issue with eggs to be humorous. You were not an egg person and commonly called it, “the devil’s snot,” which let Terry know you might have been spending too much time with your granny and great-aunties.

“Maybe later,” he says, “can you just be here with me?”

You don’t hesitate to cup his face once he turns his gaze to you and not this daze he seems to be in. He slowly blinks at your touch, head moving to press a kiss into the palm of your hand. You nod and he moved again to lay in you lap, hands wrapping around your hips tight that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Something was wrong and you were determined to fix it—if he would let you. You didn’t push him and let Terry rest as you squeezed one of his shoulders being trailing your fingers across his back to the other.

That’s when you felt it underneath his shirt, a bandage of some sorts. You kept it to yourself for now, knowing he would tell you as you continued rubbing circles across his back to soothe him.

It had to have been a half hour when Terry dozed off and your legs were aching. You forgot to put a pillow down for extra cushion but Terry never had any problems using your body as his personal pillow. Some things never change.

Your attempt to weasel out of his hold was a challenge before you realized he was holding onto you on purpose. It was good to still see some humor in him due to whatever happened once he left this town.

“Be for real,” you tell him as he looks back at you, “I’m trying to get up and make breakfast and this is what we’re doing?”

Terry sits up, always the light sleeper but there’s a weight in his chest that won’t ever subside, “wanted to see if you still had it in you to get out of my hold…you need some more work.”

“I lug baggage at the airport that’s heavier.” You sass pushing yourself off the couch, “I didn’t get my stretches in yet so excuuuse me, Mr. Richmond.”

Terry mutters playfully, “sounds like excuses to me.”

“You know what? It’s too early for your irritation so why don’t you take another nap?”

Terry shakes his head as you make your way over to the fridge, “nah, I much rather watch your face while you mentally fuss over the eggs.”

“Ah so I’m your source of entertainment for you this morning am I?” You place your hands on your hips as Terry places his elbows into his knees, “let me go find my flapper dress.”

“…I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a dress again.” He admits, eyes burning into you from across the room.

Rolling your eyes you turn right back around so he couldn’t see how much of an effect that had on you. It shouldn’t by any means but here your insides were acting up!

When you turn around with the carton in your hands, you’re met with Terry’s chest that catches you by surprise. His arms lock over your shoulders as you carefully hold onto the eggs and feel him relax against you. He always smelled like leather and pine and that also hasn’t changed. Slowly you snake a free arm across his waist and lean your ear into his chest, finding his heartbeat. It’s always the most soothing thing, equivalent to your hands on his back.

You’re not sure how long you’re holding onto each other but you don’t question what this is all about or what this is for. You didn’t need to, you knew Terry Richmond and you knew when something was up, regardless of the distance that was between the two of you. He came to you in the middle of night at your job and again in the early morning. The pull was still there and perhaps it would always be that way.

He wants to help you make breakfast, after he lets go of you and you almost tell him to sit his big behind down, sensing that he was injured in more than one way but he’s not exactly a guest in this home. So he puts in the work beside you, just like old times and begins to open up about his time in Shelby springs much to your own heartache for him.

Terry arrived back home after all this time and as you sat from across each other just listening, you realized him being here was better late than never. 

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (01)

I didn’t expect to drop the first chapter so fast. Thank you everyone who liked and/or commented on my previous post !! Hope y’all will like this one !!

Summary <- 01 -> 02

Masterlist

Taglist

Warning: I don’t know anything about hospital or how they actually work, I tried to make it accurate as much as possible, cursing ?

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut

Also, reader is bisexual !

Working in a hospital was always exhausting. You never imagined yourself becoming a doctor; in fact, you never even dreamt of it. But with a healing quirk like yours, combined with the prestige and respect the profession brought, you felt pushed into it. It wasn’t so bad, though. Being a beta, you had an edge here. In a place where emotions ran high and pheromones flooded the air, you stayed grounded. While alphas and omegas could be thrown into chaos by the scent and pheromones around them, you kept your cool. It was one of the few perks of being a beta in a high-stress environment like this.

Today felt no different from the others as you made your way down the sterile hallway, heading for your next patient. Just as you were about to enter their room, the sound of hurried footsteps caught your attention. A group of paramedics rushed past you, wheeling a stretcher with a patient barely visible under layers of blankets.

The moment they passed, the air shifted. The doctor in charge, a tall, sharp-eyed alpha, started barking orders at the nurses, his voice cutting through the usual calmness of the hospital. You could tell by the urgency that this wasn’t just any patient. No, this had to be someone important. A pro-hero, maybe? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them was brought in after a brutal fight. For a moment, curiosity sparked inside you, and you wondered who they were. But duty called. You pushed open the door to your patient’s room, the soft click of the handle snapping you back into focus. Your professional demeanor slid into place like a well-worn mask.

"Good morning! How are you feeling today?"

The patient shifted under the thin sheet, eyes half-closed.

"Better, I think... Still sore, though," they murmured.

You nodded, already making mental notes.

“That’s to be expected. Let’s have a look at those vitals and see how you're doing.”

After finishing up with your patient, the day moved on with the usual requests and minor chaos of the hospital. It wasn’t long before Asuna, the cute omega nurse, approached you again, her brown eyes wide as she asked

“Please, Y/N, I really need to leave early today. I swear I’ll buy your lunch tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why people always came to you for favors. It wasn’t like you had a particularly welcoming vibe, yet somehow, this was the third time she had asked you to cover her last round so she could head out early.

“Y/N, I promise, it’s the last time.”

Her wide brown eyes locked onto yours, and you knew she had you. It wasn’t the first time Asuna had asked for a favor, and you doubted it would be the last.

“Alright, Asuna, you’re a pain in the ass. This is the last time, though. I mean it,” you said, though your tone didn’t carry much conviction.

Her smile brightened, and with a quick, “Thank you, Doctor L/N!” she handed you her patient list and dashed off to the locker room.

You shook your head slightly, more amused than annoyed. People always seemed to assume you were an easy target for these things, but the truth was, you just didn’t care enough to make a big deal out of it. Besides, it was easier to say yes and get on with your day than to fight over it. Since she was assigned to the hero wing, you made your way there, your steps steady and automatic. The hero wing wasn’t all that different from the rest of the hospital, just quieter. The lighting was a bit softer, and the rooms offered a little more privacy, but beyond that, it was still a hospital—white walls, the faint scent of disinfectant in the air, and the steady hum of medical equipment. You made your way down the familiar hallway, passing a few closed doors until you reached the patient’s room at the end.

After a brief knock on the door with no response, you entered the room, heading straight for the bed. Their room was larger than most, with enough space to accommodate any necessary equipment, but otherwise, it was like every other patient room. The sunlight filtered through thin blue curtains, casting a dull glow over the room. You checked the vitals on instinct, your eyes drifting to the patient, and then froze when you realized who you were looking at pro-hero Shoto Todoroki.

Seeing him up close was something else. One of Japan’s most famous heroes, practically a celebrity, and here he was, fast asleep in front of you. His hair rested against his shoulders, the unusual coloring drawing your attention in a way you couldn’t quite explain. His features were sharp yet soft and refined, but it was the contrast in his appearance, much like an exotic bird, that caught your eye. There was something striking, captivating about the way he looked. He was just... pretty. There was no other way to describe it. Everything about him screamed "pretty boy." You were so captivated by the length of his lashes, thick and dark against his skin, that you didn’t even notice when his eyes opened and met yours.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity. You’d heard Shoto was on the quieter side, but this silence felt different, as if he were trying to figure out why a doctor had been watching him sleep. It was unprofessional—creepy, even—and you had no valid excuse for why you were still staring. The awkwardness of the moment built until it was unbearable, and just as you opened your mouth to apologize, you noticed something shift in his gaze.

There was something more beneath it now, something charged. His cheeks flushed, the soft pink blossoming across his skin like a dahlia. The color spread gradually, delicate at first but quickly deepening into a rich, vibrant hue. His wide eyes, one blue and one gray, darkened as his pupils expanded, a hazy look settling in them. As if he was suddenly hyperaware of every breath you took. The heart monitor’s consistent beeping suddenly picked up pace, the rhythm escalating without warning.

Instinctively, you reached out, your hand barely grazing his shoulder. His entire body trembled at the touch. It was immediate, his body responding to even the slightest touch.

Then, in a small, broken voice, he whispered.

“Alpha... please…”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of it, the words so out of place that they felt like a joke. But before you could react, a scent hit you, so strong and unexpected that it threatened to short-circuit your brain.

Alright, I did the first one. As always, I like criticism and I find them really helpful so don’t hesitate to tell me if something is weird or wrong about my writing !!

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers !

Summary <- 01 -> 02

Taglist

[ghouldump]

Fangirl | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ meeting the vampire rockstar goes surprisingly well

here is something short, while waiting on the other posts coming soon :) if this post isn't up around 7/26 its because i hated the fic so much, i went ahead and deleted it

“How does my hair look?” You kept looking into your phone camera, touching your makeup.

“It looks good, what about my outfit?” Cara, your friend, asked.

“You both look fine, I wish you would come on,” her brother, Caleb groaned.

“Seriously, all of this over some guy who claims he’s a vampire,” her boyfriend, Jason, grumbled, out of jealousy.

“You never know, he might be legit, you know there was a book that came out recently-

“Don’t start with your vampire conspiracies, Y/n,” Jason said, rudely, while Caleb snickered.

“Ignore him, even if he’s pretending, he’s sexy, so it doesn’t matter,” Cara laughed, taking your hand as you both entered the stadium.

Sighing, you tried to focus on the concert, and not let Jason’s words get to you. You could be a little sensitive and his words hit a nerve. Cara was the one who introduced Lestat’s music to you, professing he was her celebrity crush. Since then, you couldn’t deny the overwhelming interest you held for him and his outlandish claim that he was a vampire.

When she brought up the concert, you immediately began saving money, not only for the best seats but for a backstage pass. You were ecstatic, and you couldn’t let someone like Jason of all people ruin your night before it started.

Suddenly, the lights began to dim, the crowd began cheering, he was coming. As the music started, he appeared, and everyone screamed wildly. You could hardly move, frozen, mesmerized by his presence. The hair, face, body, skin, he seemed like the embodiment of perfection. Just as his eyes landed on you, you felt like you could melt, your face burning in excitement.

“I think he just looked at me,” Cara told you.

Not saying a word, you kept your eyes on him, watching as he slightly smirked, grabbing the microphone.

“He kept looking at me,” Cara said as you both made your way backstage. Neither Caleb nor Jason were willing to pay the extra money, leaving to wait in the car for the two of you.

"I think he looked at me too," you said, as she frowned, before scoffing.

“I would’ve noticed, he was basically singing to me,” she cheered, as you both approached the line.

Everyone stood, waiting for their autograph or picture, giving Lestat all of their praises, until it was finally your turn.

“Oh my god, could you sign this?” Cara asked as you made eye contact with Lestat. His gaze was intense, making you look at the floor.

Quickly signing Cara’s album, he hadn’t acknowledged her once, already reaching for your hand.

“Hi, I didn’t bring anything, you can sign my arm,” you laughed, as he quickly wrote his signature.

“Thank you, are you actually a vampire?” You asked. Cara stood awkwardly next to you, waiting for you.

“Y/n, why would you ask him-

“I have no reason to lie, Y/n, would you like proof?” He asked, his eyes examining your outfit in approval.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Why don’t you wait for me?” He pointed towards his dressing room.

“You can’t stay, Caleb and Jason are waiting for us,” Cara told you.

“I will make sure you are home before sunrise, is that alright, ma chèrie?” He asked you, tilting his head.

Nodding, you began to walk into the room, jumping as Cara stumped her feet.

“It’s not fair, I knew your music first,” she told him.

“And I appreciate your support, but I’m afraid you are holding up the line,” he told her, chuckling as she stormed off.

Sitting near the vanity, you received all kinds of messages from Cara. You were tempted to leave, hurt by all the mean things she said, because you chose to stay. You didn’t understand why she was so angry, she had a boyfriend, and you expressed your interest in Lestat as well.

“She’s been jealous of you all along, why do you think she allows her boyfriend to talk to you so rudely?” Lestat asked, rhetorically, taking off the shirt, as soon as he stepped into the room.

“She’s just…a really big fan of yours,” you cleared your throat as he approached.

“Are you a fan?” He asked, leaning on the table in front of you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Then how she feels is truly irrelevant,” he chuckled.

“We will be leaving shortly,” he continued, changing into a button-down shirt.

Walking to the opulent convertible, you kept your head down. Fans and Paparazzi all called out his name, yet still, they kept a clear path for him, almost afraid of what would happen, blocking his way. He kept a slight smirk on his face, giving them only enough of his attention that would leave them begging for more.

Getting into the car, he blew them a singular kiss before speeding off. As reckless as he seemed, he was a great driver, and patient, listening to the classical music that played lowly on the radio. Finally, he parked in front of a large house.

“T-this is your home?”

“No, just temporarily, my house is in New Orleans,” he said, nonchalantly, getting out of the car, as you hurriedly followed behind him.

Entering the large house, your eyes wandered up the walls, to the ceiling, admiring the details. Looking back down, you realize that Lestat wasn't walking anymore, staring at you.

“What?” you asked, nervously.

“You've been around that wretched excuse of a friend for too long, you have no reason to be timid, you are a piece of art,” he complimented.

The trait reminded him too much of a certain someone, accepting poor treatment, and constantly being undermined and disrespected. You deserved better, much like his Louis did, and for that he liked you a bit more, perhaps you could be around much longer than he originally planned.

“Thank you,” you said, gulping as he circled around you.

Unconsciously, you backed up, moving away from him, until you bumped into the sofa. As you nearly fell backward, he caught you. Reaching for your jaw, he lifted your head, your eyes meeting his, and instantly, he began his hypnotic voice.

“You don’t have to be shy around me, nervous, anxious, you’re allowed to be as carefree as your mortal heart desires,” he said, his thumb brushing against your lips.

“Okay,” you nodded, before snapping out of the trance.

“Come, ma chèrie, the night is still young,” he told you, holding out his hand. Biting back your smile, you accepted his hand, giggling as he swiftly picked you up, carrying you to the master bedroom.

“Why didn’t you stick with opera?” You asked Lestat, you both lay in his bed, conversing for the last two hours.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he smirked.

“Like pretending to be a vampire,” you stood on your knees, before he pulled you into his lap. Baring his teeth, you gasped for a moment, realizing the fangs were real.

“As stated before, I have no reason to lie, I have been a vampire for over two centuries”

“You’re legit,” you smiled excitedly, as you reached for his teeth, poking the fang.

“You’re more excited than I imagined”

“I hoped you were, that it wasn’t a costume,” you confessed to him.

“To fulfill your fantasies? I see what you think of happening, of doing. For your desires to be made manifest, show me what you want, what your heart calls out to me for,” he told you, kissing your wrist, as you climbed out of the bed.

Undoing your top, as soon as it fell to the floor, Lestat was in front of you. His glass-like nails trailed across your stomach, as he circled you. Pulling you into his embrace, he took in your scent. Goosebumps covered your arms, as you stood pressed against his cold chest.

His hands brushed against your neck, before moving to your breast, cupping them. Closing your eyes, you moaned, as his fangs sank into your neck. The sensation of your blood draining, mixed with the massaging from his hands, the exchange felt better than sex.

Pulling away, you stared into his eyes, your blood all over his mouth. Grabbing your head, he hungrily kissed your lips, picking you up, and carrying you to bed. Stripping the remainder of your clothes, Lestat kissed you as if he'd never been kissed.

“Am I going to die?” you asked, catching his attention.

“All mortals die,” he reminded you, before he went back to kissing your neck, smirking as you moaned.

“Will you turn me?” you asked.

“Not tonight, ma chérie,” he laughed, pulling the blanket over the two of your bodies.

Lestat’s ego was stroked, hearing how much you were turned on by your blood being drunk. So much that he was willing to give you the real thing to compare it to since you thought it was so much better than sex. He wouldn't kill you, not like he had done the others. Your essence was too familiar, and he could already see himself growing attached in the future. He liked you and intended to see you again.

“I hope you sleep well,” you told him, as you went to get out of the car.

“I will and I plan to see you soon, ma chérie,” he told you, watching as you got out of the car, tiredly walking to your front door. The amount of times and positions you had previously experienced didn't even seem humanly possible, leaving you feeling like an entirely new person.

Just as you shut the front door, your phone began ringing. Seeing Cara’s contact, you felt visibly agitated, rolling your eyes before accepting her call.

“Why weren't you answering the phone?” she asked immediately.

“I left it in his car, on accident”

“So, how did it go?” she asked. Thinking of Lestat’s words, you knew better than to share details, when she didn't even want you to go in the first place.

“I don't kiss and tell”

[saturngas]

Hello! I hope you are well 🩷

E It may sound cliché or a bit stupid, but I'm genuinely curious about the fandom's opinion on Gojo's ideal type. The few things I found are a little shallow and nothing very elaborate, or from a few years ago when we didn't have so much Gojo in the manga. SO WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS? 🥺

gojo’s ideal type

helloooo thank you so much for this ask. I love this kind of asks because they make me think hard hhaha

but anyways I really think gojo wouldn't have like an exact idea of an ideal type regarding personality and appearance, the only thing he would focus on/prefer is that his s/o understands him.

so we are hinted multiple times throughout the whole story that gojo feels alone, especially after geto's departure, and that the main reason is his unreachable strength. he is the strongest sorcerer. he doesn't really look for a super strong partner, but I would definitely think he prefers someone strong or with a cool technique.

some people affirm that gojo values people measuring their strength, and I kind of agree with it, but to say he only see the strength of people is wrong, I would say that he looks for people with potential (like he has stated before with megumi) and definitely people with a strong mindset.

so I really dont wanna make this a gojo's character analysis hahah sorry so ill answer your question directly, just wanted to make that clear before stating my beliefs.

I think gojo would settle for someone who thinks like him, regarding the jujutsu world. he wants to change it, so he wants people who think like him to be next to him.

if that person, like I said before, has a strong mindset and unbreakable personality, I think that would be a huge plus. I feel like gojo likes dense people, someone who doesn't really changes their opinion like super fast, someone in control of their beliefs.

now regarding a bit of personality, I think gojo would get along with almost all personalities. he is very smart and honestly very kind at heart, so he would look for positive traits in every personality. buuuut if I had to be a bit more specific, I think he would like a bit more a woman with a demanding personality. like not exactly someone who is dominant over him, but kind of. hahah he likes seeing someone trying to boss him around considering he is the strongest and can do anything he wants, so meeting someone with such guts makes him wanna know more about that person.

a kind person would also be a plus. well, not exactly super kind, but someone who helps others. lets remember he is a teacher after all, so he would look for someone who cares for others, especially the younger generation. I think he would prefer someone with a similar profession as his. it doesn't have to be an educator just like him, but like I said before, someone who cares for the youth.

a bit of an unpopular opinion hehe but I simply cant see gojo with someone who doesn't have a similar humor as his. like we always see people getting annoyed at gojo for being such an idiot, so I really think his partner needs to-has to be just as silly and goofball as he is. like someone who supports his jokes and antics. I cant see him with someone super serious or someone who is plainly boring.

I think the perfect match for gojo is someone with the same energetic and passionate energy as him. he would love someone who is also clingy or physical as him, I feel like he loves giving and receiving physical affection. that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate the other love languages, but I think he loves receiving touches, words of affirmation, and service acts.

so in summary, I think gojo's ideal type would be someone who agrees with him/has the same purpose as him regarding the corrupted jujutsu sorcery, someone who is fraternal and supportive of the youth, someone who can match his silly and quirky personality, someone with a corresponding humor as his, someone physically and emotionally strong, someone passionate and intense about their own dreams and goals, someone who understands his position as the strongest and is there next to him anytime he needs reassurance, someone who can read him easily since he isn't overly open, and someone who would love him and demonstrate love just as him or even more (he would love that).

I definitely think he is a tits guy.

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks @soulaires <3 so guys right now im out of town so I won't be making super long and specific content for a few days. but once I get back to home ill be working on parts 2 of some fics :))

[badasgirlfriend]

hey! hope you’re having a good day, could I request bada x reader, they’re both competing in swf2 but it’s a secret relationship? thanks!

Loving In Secret | Bada Lee Imagine

pairings: bada lee x fem! reader

a/n: SORRY for making mina evil, just bc i made her like that in this imagine doesn't mean she's evil irl. Also Y/N dances Badas choreo when she battles against Mina

Y/N was holding Bada's hand as they were watching their teams group evaluation. Bada had told her she had nothing to worry about but she still cared, despite trying to put up a tough front.

"I told you not to worry," Bada reassured. "There's nothing to be scared of."

"Yeah, I know." Y/N smiled back nervously, squeezing Bada's hand. "I'm just a bit worried about what they'll say about the girls."

Y/N and Bada have been dating for three years, a secret known only to their team. The team frequently teased the pair, even referring to them as their parents.

While Y/N and Bada wouldn't admit it to anyone, they were secretly terrified of the reactions they would receive if they made their relationship public. The team was their safe space, but the outside world was full of judgements and potential consequences. Despite their love, they weren't sure if it was a risk they could take.

Y/N was now more energized and focused as the video playing of the other teams talking about them began. "Who's the most successful there? Bada and Y/N" Y/N rolled her eyes when she saw Mina talking

"Bada is taking over the choreography world," Lia Kim said making Y/N squeeze Bada's hand, her smile growing wider.

"Why don't we get closer" Bada suggested, now that the girls were offering up their harsh criticism. Y/N and her members followed along, stopping near her.

"Bada and Y/N are more popular than their own talent"

"Y/N is just a pretty face nothing more. When you see her dance you don't get excited"

"When you look at her students they just look like Bada's copycats." a member of Mannequin said

Y/N let out a chuckle, she was starting to become really frustrated, everything they said wasn't true. They felt threatened by her members since they are young and talented, of course they're up for criticism but not this harsh

Then Mina showed up once more and Y/N knew that she was gonna talk about her again. "Y/N may profess to be a dancer, but in reality, she's just a little poser, someone who tries too hard to be cool and trendy without having the true skills or experience to back it up. Honestly if it wasn't for her pretty face and-" Mina paused, holding her fingers up and gently brushing them together, indicating money in a gesture. "No agency would accept her. She's BEBEs downfall,"

Y/N knew that she and Mina had a history of disagreements. Although Mina had started it, that didn't mean she had to downgrade and not credit the girl about her hard work over the years. While it was true that her family was wealthy, it didn't mean that her success came simply from her privileged background. She had put in the time and effort to make her dreams a reality.

Y/N disliked Mina for sure, but she would never speak of her in such a condescending and harsh manner. The words Mina used went beyond criticism

Before she could say anything, Bada beat her to it. The tall girl let out a chilly laugh, her sharp gaze drawing everyone's attention. Y/N looked at her girlfriend, her tongue pressed against her cheek as she stared at the TV. Her arms were resting on her head and her expression was bland and emotionless.

"I didn't like that." Bada said, her tone cold, she returned to her seat, her body language stiff and her eyes filled with cold fury. Y/N was well aware of her mood, knowing that her girlfriend was extremely angry. She could feel the tension build in the air, and she was certain that Bada was not about to forgive and forget the matter. If anything, it seemed like she was about to unleash a storm.

"Calm down, you know what she said wasn't true, it was just meant to get under your skin." The younger girl, Cheche, said to the couple as they sat down.

Bada could not calm down. Not when someone spoke to Y/N in that way. She didn't mind if people said whatever they wanted to her, it didn't bother her at all. But when they talked about Y/N, that's when her temper flared. She was protective of her girlfriend and would always stand up for her against any kind of disrespect or unfair treatment. Y/N was her main priority, and it didn't matter what anyone else thought. Bada was not about to let anyone step on her or Y/N in any way, shape or form. As for Mina Young she her team will have it coming

A large text appeared on the screen, stating "NO RESPECT." It stayed there for a few seconds, drawing the attention of the whole room. Y/N's eyes widened as she saw that she had received five NO RESPECTs, and she couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

"Cute" Y/N said showing her her girlfriend the stickers she got, Bada looked at her and smiled, hugging her sideways.

After Tsubakill, Mannequin and Wolf'lo's evaluation video was over, it was now Deep n Daps' turn. Y/N and Bada both sat up straight, eagerly awaiting for them. The tension was thick in the air, and everyones eyes were on the duo

Yells could be heard coming from the green team as they entered the large studio, their voices echoing off the walls. Mina felt someone's eyes on her while they were walking downstairs. She looked over at the BEBE team and was startled to see the hostile glare from Y/N and Bada. The tension was thick, and Mina felt her heart rate quicken as she felt a chill run down her spine.

She gulped and broke eye contact, making Y/N scoff and shake her head. But Bada was still glaring at Mina until her team sat down, and the evaluation for Deep n Daps finally began.

After every team was done, the staff informed the girls that they could now go change for their upcoming No Respect battle.

Y/N entered the changing room, she wore her white low rise sweatpants, which made her figure pop. A baby blue scoop back bra emphasized her features and added a touch of style. She grabbed her Bebe jersey with her name on the back, but Bada grabbed her making her flinch.

"You scared me"

"You get scared easily baby" "Bada chuckled and said,

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and pouted her lips. Bada gave her signature smile and kissed her softly, drawing her close as she caressed her cheek.

"Here," Bada offered, passing her jersey over "Wear mine and I'll wear yours" Y/N sighed, about to say no, when Bada interrupted. "No one will mistake us for a couple. Best friends exchange clothes all the time," Bada explained, her words making perfect sense.

"But it's not just any jersey, Bada. It has your name on it," Y/N protested.

Bada groaned, her forehead meeting Y/N's. "Come on," she pleaded.

"Bada-"

Bada cut her off, kissing her tenderly. Y/N melted into the kiss, giving in to the moment. Their eyes were closed, their minds focused solely on the feeling of their mouths meeting.

Their kiss was stopped, as they were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. 'Keep it PG, bitches,' Tatter's voice rang out, followed by the light laughter of the other girls.

"Here," Y/N gave her jersey to Bada "We need to get going if we don't want to be late," she adds.

She then promptly pulls the jersey over her head, her shoulders slipping into the fabric, the the jersey falling down past her hips and to her thighs.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

"LETS GO BADA LEE!" Y/N cheered, full of energy as it is her girlfriend's turn to dance. Redy picking Bada as her no respect dancer was a big mistake, but nonetheless Y/N loved the confidence

Y/N laughed as Bada came really close to Redy, mocking her for her height, she didn't even look at her she just looked above her head. She was really glad she was tall, almost as Bada, so her girlfriend couldn't tease Y/N about her height

Y/N's eyes remained fixed on Bada's body, her gaze never wavering from the dancer. She saw Bada dance a hundred times and it still left her speechless "SEXY!," Y/N exclaimed, she shook Tatters's shoulder, trying to contain her excitement.

As Bada's dance ended, everyone were on the edge of their seats, waiting eagerly to see which card the judges would display. The BEBE team erupted with joy and excitement, jumping up and down as all three judges turned over BEBE's card. Y/N quickly embraced Bada, her arms tightly wrapped around her girlfriend

After an hour of everyone battling each other, Y/N went up against Redlic and Mimi, she won both battles securing more wins for BEBE

"Y/N of BEBE, please pick your No Respect Dancer" the host Kang Daniel called out her name making her smirk as her eyes immediately met with Minas

As Y/N stood up, her friends cheered loudly for her and began patting her shoulder

"The dancer I don't respect is Mina Myoung from Deep N Dap," Y/N immediately stated, not wasting any time to think about the decision.

A collective "Ooh" could be heard as Mina slowly rose to her feet. She wouldn't admit it but she was anxious about this battle, already knowing she will loose

As Mina stood in front of Y/N, she brought the microphone to her lips. "You talk too much, Mina," she stated confidently, turning over the mic to Tatter. Bada cheered loudly in support of her girlfriend. Even those from other teams, who had developed a growing dislike towards the Deep N Dap leader, joined in the celebration.

"Truth hurts Y/N," Mina's voice cracked, a subtle but clear sign of her anger. "This battle will prove what I said," she continued, her words filled with determination and confidence.

Y/N chuckled as she witnessed Mina's annoyance. She then offered a mocking curtsy in anticipation of the upcoming battle.

"Y/N of BEBE will attack first, then Mina of Deep N Dap. Are you guys ready?" Kang Daniel announced, building suspense for the upcoming battle.

While waiting for her song to begin, Y/N began a small warmup, stretching and testing her body's agility, Bada playfully smacked her ass, which earned her a playful glare from Y/N.

As the song "Money" by Cardi B began to play, Y/N took her position, her smirk becoming even more prominent. With that, she began moving, making gestures that were reminiscent of handling money. Mina noticed this and scoffed in disbelief, knowing that Y/N had chosen this song because of what she said about her buying her career.

She was mocking her and everyone seemed to pick up because they started laughing and cheering which only pushed Mina to the edge

Y/N approached with a confident step, and as she came closer, she bit the end of the jersey and lifted it, exposing her stomach. She then gave Mina a disgusted look and went back to her spot

"FUCK YEAH!" Bada screeched, throwing the banner into the air with enthusiasm and excitement, unable to sit still for a single second as she watched Y/N's performance, her attitude and her movements driving her crazy. Every moment of her dance was filled with passion, energy and style, completely owning the stage and commanding everyone's attention. Her girlfriend, Bada, was just one of many witnesses who were blown away by her performance.

The song ended, and Y/N, after blowing a kiss at Mina, turned away, clearly satisfied with her dance.

"SWITCH!" Daniel said and the song changed Mina got into her position, ready to give it her all in hopes of matching the incredible performance that Y/N had just put on.

Mina began to dance, crawling and rolling along the floor, and Y/N was not surprised. This seemed to be the only move that Mina knew how to do. As Y/N turned to her friends, she couldn't help but laugh, but when she saw that they were not laughing, but instead looking panicked, she grew confused.

"MOVE," they all shouted, but it was too late. Mina's feet hit Y/N straight in the nose, making her yelp in surprise and pain. She stumbled back, clutching her nose as she tried to control the flood of emotions coursing through her.

Mina got up immediately and made her way over to Y/N. She didn't mean to hurt her, that hadn't been her intention. She was only trying to do a move with a handstand that she'd managed to execute a few weeks ago, but something went wrong and it didn't go as she'd planned. Her concern for Y/N outweighed all other fears, "Are you alright?" She was genuinely concerned, having never wanted to cause the girl any harm, especially while they were both competing. "Im so sorry I didn't mean to hurt you Im really-"

Mina didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as Bada and the other members pushed her away. Bada almost lost her shit when she spotted the blood pouring from Y/N's nose. She grabbed her head and moved her hand, wincing at the sight of the girl's bloody nose.

"It hurts," Y/N said through clenched teeth, a few tears escaping despite her best efforts, the pain was becoming too much for her to control. Her competitors gathered around, a look of concern on their faces as they watched her struggle.

"Is she alright?"

"What happened?"

"That kick was nasty, her nose is probably broken"

Even the judges stood up, trying to see if she was alright.

"Paramedics are on the way Bada you go with her," Kang Daniel told the tall girl and she nodded, her hands still shaking. She grabbed Y/N's arms, but the girl refused to move.

"No, I need to see who won," Y/N said with determination, and Bada looked at her dumbfounded.

The judges were left shocked and speechless, yet they decided to continue with the show.

"So we're just gonna ignore what happened at the end and focus on the rest?" Monika stated, and the other two nodded in agreement. Y/N stared at the judges, feeling anxious yet hopeful for the win. When she saw the blue cards raised, she immediately threw herself into Bada's arms, holding her tightly in a hug.

Mina clapped, her eyes clouded with tears. She turned to Y/N and gave a deep bow. "You deserved that, and I'm really sorry I didn't mean to hurt you."

Y/N offered Mina a small smile and said, "Good work." She knew that Mina hadn't intended to kick her, but that wouldn't change the fact that she had said unpleasant things about her earlier and she wasn't going to forgive her

Bada still glared at the leader, grabbing Y/N's hands and moving backstage where the paramedics were already in place. The two of them sat down on chairs, as the paramedics worked on checking Y/N's nose. Bada was still holding Y/N's hand tightly

"You're gonna break my hand," Y/N managed to say, cracking a smile

"Shut up, you don't know how worried I am," Bada muttered.

"At least I won," Y/N teased the older girl, drawing a groan from her.

"Y/N, it's not the time to joke, you're hurt," Bada chided her girlfriend, now in a more caring tone.

"Good news," the paramedic told them. "It's not broken, but I'll be placing some cottons just in case she bleeds again, which is normal after a hard kick."

"Thank you," Y/N and Bada thanked the paramedic as he exited the room. As Y/N leaned on Bada's shoulder, she cursed when she accidentally hit her nose.

"Yah, do you want to bleed again?" Bada scolded her.

"Sorry," Y/N laughed. "I was too excited to hug you." She placed her hands on her waist, still smiling despite the pain.

"Idiot," Bada chuckled, placing a kiss on top of her head. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Y/N spoke breaking the silence

"Baby?"

"Yeah?" Bada looked at her girlfriend who was already looking at her

"Would you still love me if I was a member of Deep n' DAP?" Y/N smirked as Bada's smile faltered. Y/N knew that Bada absolutely hated the rival team, and she was having fun teasing her because of it.

Bada let out a frustrated sigh as she heard her lover's words "No"

"Hey," Y/N smacked Bada's shoulder lightly, causing her to laugh in response.

"I was kidding, of course I would," Bada said with a hint of playfulness. "I'd make you change teams."

"Hm, that wouldn't be hard, you're very convincing," Y/N agreed

Bada pecked Y/N's lips, being careful to not hit her nose. "You did really good today," she told her, "I'm proud of you. I love you."

"I love you more," Y/N replied, blushing, and she leaned her head on Bada's shoulder. She felt safe and comforted with Bada, she was one of the only people who could bring out this side of her, and Y/n loved it.

[all4aoki]

  ⊹ 𝓕INALLY ˒ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝓘 𝓓ESPERATELY 𝓒ALL 𝓨OU ⠀Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ִ

EN- & Aoki YN`s relationships in a nutshell . . . enha x f!reader, poly!enha, enha8thmember

©all4aoki, 2024

ꔫ ˖ 이희승 || ⵌ YNHEEZ - SMARTIEZ ?? popularity 76% dating since after Drunk-Dazed era

᱖ You’re literally his baby. One of his favorite joys in the world. That, and you both are so playful and shy that your relationship with him has become one of ENGENEs’ favorite joys as well (sometimes even for the other members too). He always claims that you’re constantly whining for attention and clinging to him at all times when really, he’s the one that’s being babied. (not that you don’t do those things from time to time). Heeseung tends to become more relaxed around you, easing into a comfortable headspace where he knows it’s safe to be himself because his trust in you is unmatched. Sooo he’s just projecting and describing himself ><

That being said, when you’re with him, new sides of the two of you are shown: the quietness of his extrovert and the loudness of your introvert. And when this happens, your guys’ humor is unmatched, and the laughter never stops. Spending time with him alone could probably give you abs in under two weeks. Because while you’re making jokes, he’s dying of laughter which only makes you laugh. Then he makes his little comments and everyone else has to leave you both alone to be in your world. Trust is a big part of your relationship with Heeseung. Considering you’re three years younger than him, he takes it upon himself to protect you from everything bad in the world and make sure you stay as happy as possible. He would never forgive himself if your choice of profession took an unfixable toll on your beautiful personality. You allow yourself to be an escape from the pressures of your guys’ lives. When you both are with each other, you can imagine that you’re just two normal people in love. (I mean, you are, but still).

Affection-wise, Heeseung loves to be touching you at all times. They’re all tame, he’s not a very possessive person, so his PDA isn’t meant to show people that you’re his, but to make sure that you’re there with him. His favorite thing in the world is hugs, carrying you around is a close second, and he loves laying in your lap as well. He’s truly such a sweetheart and he’s so kind. You’re often following him around as well–wherever he is, you’re not that far behind. And he adores how you go to him first, most of the time, when you need help with things.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

lowkey loser!bf & popular!gf coded, is always wanting to film TikTok challenges with u, his fav stage fits of urs r when u wear red, listened to Lana’s entire discography for u, shares all of his ideas (no matter what they r ) with u first!, u hav the most tour stage interactions with him, wearing his caps / hats whenever u hav to put together an airport fit, playing guitar with him like this :,)

✶ UNITZ

노래방즈 / Karaokez, 위아래즈 / Top to Bottomz

ꔫ ˖ 박종성 || ⵌ JONGYN - BAEBEEZ ?? popularity 63% dating since after Border : Day One era

᱖ Jay was very awkward when you both first met through I-Land. He’d never been in a relationship before and was unsure of the way to approach and treat the girl he liked. Because of this, you were the one to initiate the majority of your guys’ first interactions. But as time went on and he got used to your personality and got to know your likes, he became the one to ask if you both could spend time together and to randomly start conversations. And THEN, when you both started dating, this trait was multiplied by hundreds. If he learned anything from his parents, it was how you should respect and treat a woman. Because of that acknowledgment, it became surprisingly easy for you to open up to him. Out of all the members, he’s probably the one who knows the most about your worries, best moments, worst moments, fears, and hopes. All of it. And in return, he’s opened up to you easily too.

The level of communication between the two of you is unreal as well. Words don’t even have to be exchanged for you to know what he’s thinking, for him to know what you need, etc. You both just got to that point of understanding each other so quickly that the other feels necessary in each other’s lives. When you’re not with each other, it almost feels like you’re missing an arm or a leg… or just overall an essential part of yourself. But he knows you need your space as well, considering you have six other boys in your relationship, so he doesn’t hesitate to give you that either. But, Jay will always be there to check in on you, and you’ll always be there to let him know that if he ever needs anything then you’re the one he should go to. You have a soft spot for Jay too. You’re always giving him compliments and laughing at his jokes awkwardly when no one else is, and simply reassuring him no matter what because you’re both aware of how strongly insecurities affect the other person.

Jay isn’t a huge fan of displaying his affection publicly, but behind closed doors, he’s usually all over you. He’s another one of the members who loves carrying you around (it’s rare for your feet to ever be on the ground at the dorms), he loves it when you just hold onto him like a koala while he’s moving around doing chores or something along those lines. And he’s obsessed with watching you get ready / unready as well. He wants to learn how to do your hair and makeup so badly (never skincare, Sunoo would never speak to him again if he tried to do that), just so someday he can help you with it. He’ll sit next to your vanity as you get ready and ask you questions about the products or what techniques you’re using, and then he’ll kiss you before taking something and studying it even more. Jay loves helping you get dressed too but that’s for another drabble. He’s your safe place, and you’re his.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

u both being scared of everything, having the weirdest nicknames for each other, listening to TV Girl together, being parents to ur stuffed animals, 9/10 times being in his team for EN O’ CLOCK, so many shopping trips with him, him looking for your reaction after he makes a joke, sharing water bottles during practice

✶ UNITZ

노래방즈 / Karaokez, 위아래즈 / Top to Bottomz

ꔫ ˖ 심재윤 // GWAEYONGIZ - SHIMKI ⵌ !! popularity 80% dating since after Drunk-Dazed era

᱖ If anyone wants to get anything done, they will not put you and Jake together. Because if they do, then one of you will end up on the floor in tears from laughing too hard. His outgoing sense of humor and your random sense of humor is a combination that others love to watch the outcome of. That, and you love teasing him more than anything else. You just find it so easy to point out the weird or unusual things he does that’ll make you both die a little bit (him from faux embarrassment and you from giggles). It’s all fun and games for you until Jake decides to tease back, a common occurrence in your relationship. Because the one thing you can’t handle is his flirtiness. He knows you so well since his initial extrovertedness made you comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and therefore, he knows what makes you tick and hide your face in your hands. So you have to remind yourself that if you take it too far with teasing him, you’re most likely going to get some interesting words whispered in your ear or his nose brushing against yours or his hands running along the expanse of your thighs. Something along those lines.

Jake is the one who pushes you out of your comfort zone the most and the one you often do new things with. You’ve learned a lot with him: how to not care as much about what others think, truly believing that it’s okay to make more mistakes, etc. You’re a pair that has grown with each other and therefore, knows what it takes to strengthen each other’s weaknesses and when it passes the other’s boundaries. And while you both enjoy experimenting with hobbies and new places, you have also created many safe places through your dates. There’s a specific Japanese restaurant that you frequent with him, you willingly go fishing with him (except you set a limit of 4x a month), and even just going to HYBE’s parking garage to mess around on skateboards is enough for you both. When you’re with him, you feel like a little kid again and to say the least, you prefer quality time with Jake to anything else. Also, you guys talk on a different level than some of the others since his first language is English, which is also one of the languages you grew up with. It’s easier to express things and understand each other. So on particularly difficult days it’s become your guys’ nature to sit in one of your rooms or lay together to talk things out.

Jake is one of the 3 members that you get “clingy” with. He’s a huge fan of physical affection (sometimes you’re convinced he needs it to survive), so you’ve become extremely comfortable touching him wherever and whenever. When you laugh with him, 9/10 you’re throwing yourself onto him, you’re almost always giving him back hugs, and it’s rare to see you guys not holding hands. It’s become second nature for you to reach for him to hold his arm, and fans have gotten used to him holding onto your waist at airports or subconsciously grabbing your thighs when you’re sitting next to him. Enhypen’s staff has also had to develop a sixth sense for whenever you’re on his lap or he’s holding your face to pull you in for a kiss. When you guys are together, neither of you are shy, whether that’s physically or socially, because if you could sum up your relationship with him in one word, it would be comfort.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

shares all of his food with u and vice versa, making fun of each other’s accents, ur layla’s mom and he’s ur cats’ dad, he always goes with u when ur getting ur nails done, ur makeup unnies (lovingly) HATE him cause he’s always leaving bite marks and hickeys that are impossible to cover, quoting the most niche memes with him, you’ve built 10+ lego sets with him, hitting his arms when u get excited

✶ UNITZ

Tinyz, 노래방즈 / Karaokez, 10Yearz, Clingyz

ꔫ ˖ 박성훈 || ⵌ YNHOON - COUPLEZ ?? popularity 93% dating since right after I-LAND

᱖ Real-life representation of soulmates, the red string theory, fate, anything that entails being meant for someone. That’s your relationship with Sunghoon. During I-Land, when you first even saw him, it was love at first sight on both ends. It took a bit for you both to get comfortable around each other and truly let your personalities shine, but once you did, it became clear that you were each other’s person. You would do anything for him and he would do the same for you. You share a connection with him where neither of you need words to express your feelings, and while it may not be as strong as the knowing you have with Jay, it’s still there and impossible to ignore. Sunghoon is a giver, and ever since Enhypen’s debut, you’ve received gifts more often than you ever have before, and you don’t even have to mention something twice for him to be doing it for you. He gets your food, refills your water bottle, brings you your phone charger, ties your shoelaces and takes off your heels, and everything in between. You’re both genuinely happy around each other. That smile of his that only comes out around certain people is on display 24/7 when you’re with him and you feel refreshed and energized when you spend time with him. Which is just truly amazing considering how picky you are about your social battery.

You’re always mirroring whatever he does and repeating what he says almost unconsciously. To say the least, you’ve adopted some of his habits. Without hesitation, you would do almost anything he asks of you, and honestly, your guys’ relationship probably borders on the line of a little bit obsessive. You’re always looking out for each other, your safety is his first priority and his happiness is yours. He’s the kind of person who handles boyfriend duties flawlessly, making sure you aren’t walking on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street, checking in on how you’re feeling at least once a day, and doing little things that show you how important you are to him. And the way you flirt with each other is by being a little bit mean. In a teasing way. He laughs at you when you get mad cause he thinks it’s cute, so he has to apologize twice when you get even more annoyed at “him not taking you seriously” (he does, you’re literally just the most adorable person ever). He does get possessive at times, which usually leads to insecurity, so you praising him and just simply loving on him throughout the day has become a crucial factor in your relationship. A little bit of your reassurance at these times is enough for him, and he’ll go right back to rubbing it in the others’ faces that he got you first.

Surprisingly, Sunghoon can be pretty affectionate in public. But his ways of touching you are a bit more intense in terms that he just kind of moves you around as he pleases (manhandles). He’s always carrying you around bridal style, has an arm slung around your waist, is guiding you around with your arms and there have been some points where out of habit he’s grabbed the back of your neck ㅠㅠ He also really loves playing with your hair, so stylists have to keep him away from you after they finished doing your hair because if they’re not careful he’ll be giving you a scalp massage or twirling a strand around his finger while removing the hairpieces that had just been added so he has more to touch. Sunghoon is a big fan of being held by you too. He’ll gladly admit that he doesn’t mind being the little spoon. Whenever you’re sitting down expect his head to find its way onto your lap. And you let him do whatever, because as long as he’s happy, then you’re happy.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

rotting in bed together whenever u guys get freetime, matching outfits / picking out each other’s outfits, giggling and blushing whenever u make eye contact with him, taking the most horrendous pictures of each other, u both have promise rings, play fighting and him never letting u win, exchanging (judgy/OMG/‘did u see that?’) glances whenever something happens, his eyes always being on u when watching ehna’s performances

✶ UNITZ

Bermuda Triangle, 10Yearz

ꔫ ˖ 김선우 || ⵌ NOOKIZ - DOUBLEZ ?? popularity 59% dating since after Tamed-Dashed era

᱖ You didn’t really believe in the importance of friendship before dating until you met Sunoo, who is someone who understands that deep connections are important for good relationships. You became close friends with him before your relationship took a romantic turn, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. With the rest of your partners (while you have no complaints about how they came to be your lovers) the friendship stage was skipped a bit since they had always been kind of romantic towards you. Sunoo is one of the exceptions to this. During I-Land, you didn’t spend a lot of time with him until Chamber 5, where you both were quick to bond over the stresses of struggling health-wise and the thoughts of not debuting. Both then and now it’s easy for you to relate to each other, and it’s effortless when you’re sharing your feelings and thoughts. Sunoo is the kind of person who the majority of the time hates putting strict restraints on his life so when he felt an attraction towards you starting to grow, he simply accepted it and began turning even more of his attention to you. Sunoo and you have a lot in common and you both already spent most of your time together, so it was difficult to pick up on his feelings at first.

But once he joined the relationship, his affections became much more clear (and obvious, cause when it comes to your boys you tend to be a little blind). He’s big on quality time and words of affirmation, so you make sure to be with him for long periods when you’re able to: he likes doing skincare together, doing random quizzes, playing video games, etc. And you’re always there to praise him and give him even more confidence. Sunoo’s comfortable with his femininity, which does wonders for your guys’ relationship. He’s never embarrassed to do anything with you that other guys might consider “girly”, it’s rare for him to feel threatened by others, and he’s always keeping in mind things you don’t like. You don’t like deciding where to eat? That’s fine, he can do it this time. One of the members is struggling to get a gift for you? They’ll go to Sunoo first. He makes sure whoever's room you’re sleeping in has a fan loud enough for white noise. Basically, despite him being more feminine than the others, he’s still good at providing and leading your guys’ relationship. You’re always making sure he’s taking care of himself as well. Sometimes, Sunoo struggles with motivation and productivity, so you’re always making him good food and helping him complete little tasks.

It was a surprise to you when you found out that Sunoo’s not a fan of physical affection. You always do your best to respect this boundary, but you do tend to be quite a loving person, so sometimes you forget about how much he enjoys his personal space. Except for the times when you grab onto his arm to hold onto… and the times when you come to him for cuddles. Basically, he makes an exception for you, even if it only lasts for a few minutes. Now, of course, he has his moments when all he wants to do is kiss you and give you the back scratches that you love so much, but most of the time you’re both content with intimate stares and exchanging cute smiles that lead to you both blushing.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

matching jellycats and pyjamas, all of ur guys’ selcas being iconic, Sun hating k-dramas but he watches them with u anyway, making baked goods / dessert for him, flowers for each other 24/7, decorating the dorm w him, keeping his photocard in ur phone case, him always paying for u <3

✶ UNITZ

Bermuda Triangle, Tinyz, Maknae Line / Kiddoz, Sunshinez

ꔫ ˖ 양정원 // YANG2 - YNWON ⵌ !! popularity 89% dating since after Drunk-Dazed era

᱖ Miss Independent meets Mr Caretaker with your guys’ relationship. He’s learned that with Jay, you barely have to lift a finger, so Jungwon often tries to follow suit and do kind of the same thing. However, as much as you appreciate being taken care of by him, you recognize that he has to take care of and lead 7 other people a majority of the time as well. So, in an attempt to lessen the stress that Jungwon is often under, you don’t let him do a lot of things for you, instead, opting to do them for him. You and him have had lots of talks about how to balance this aspect of your relationship because Jungwon does like being in control, but you want him to have time where he isn’t worrying about someone. And for now, he performs little acts of service for you while you try to keep things organized and running smoothly for him so you’re both happy. You both like to tease each other as well. Sometimes when things get intense during practice and training, you’ll mess with him a bit to loosen him up and allow him to let his frustrations out to you (or onto you, when acceptable). And teasing is just one of his top 3 love languages, so it’s a regular part of your love with him.

Jungwon is a very fun person to be around. Not only is he extremely funny, but he’s also the only member that is also a 04 liner. So while you both still respect each other, your relationship has a sort of free-ness that the others don’t. He’s only about two months older than you, but he still allows you to let another side of yourself show where you let yourself be a little bossy and make playful jokes that might’ve earned you a wary glance with the older members. Jungwon is also very encouraging of you. He always makes sure you have a chance to speak and express your thoughts and opinions, double-checking that you’re comfortable in any situation, cheering you on when you’re taking part in solo activities, etc. Jungwon’s favorite thing to do is spend time with you. Especially outside. Walks, bike rides, and picnics have become staples for both of you. It’s just so refreshing to be in nature, and since you already energize each other, it makes sense that you would continue that energization by being in a recharging place. Jungwon and you act like a married couple too, which ENGENEs love to see. You make sure to always be honest with one another, have an insane amount of inside jokes, and he has the cutest ways of expressing his love for you (cheek taps, leaning towards you when he laughs, always pushing past the other boys to be the one sitting next to you!)

You get EXTREME cuteness aggression with Jungwon. Because let’s be honest, he’s just the cutest person ever. So it’s not abnormal for you to bite him sometimes as your coping mechanism for his adorableness. Another result is that you’re usually all over him, which makes him the second person of the “yn clingy line” (or whatever you want to call it). When he sits down, you’re not far behind him, going straight for his lap and your head falling onto his shoulder. When he’s standing up, you slip underneath his arm and hug his waist, waddling along with him when he decides it’s time to move. And cuddling with Jungwon has to top all of it. His body runs on the warmer side, so it’s difficult to lay with him for a long amount of time, so you both make the best out of it and cuddle as often as possible. His presence is so comforting for you, and simply laying on his chest silences all of your stresses and worries so you can focus and love him.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

kisses kisses kisses, u guys r always mc-ing together, sharing glasses, ur both obsessed with strawberries (literally this), sending each other tiktoks going “this is u”, english lessons every weekend, resting ur head on his shoulder 24/7, binging shows together

✶ UNITZ

Tinyz, Maknae Line / Kiddoz, Clingyz, Sunshinez

ꔫ ˖ 西村 力 || ⵌ RIKIYNZ - GAYOZAZ ?? popularity 91% dating since after Blessed-Cursed era

᱖ In Riki’s words, “It took you 500 years to like me back” when really, you’d just seen him as more of a little brother until Blessed-Cursed. He’s always looked up to you in a way. You’ve inspired him to grow as an artist and as a person with the way you’ve cared for him and just the way you are as a person. Riki’s always harbored a little crush on you ever since I-Land, but it never became serious until you both started to spend more and more time together after your debut. It’s so effortless for you guys to be together because first of all, you’re both Japanese, and second of all, your calmness and patience allow him to let his personality shine. He still loves pulling pranks and (lovingly) making fun of you, but it’s significantly less than the others since you get girlfriend privilege. You both came into the industry young, so it’s only natural for you to relate to each other, and he’s the one you go to for the majority of your worries. Riki’s very mature, and he loves giving you advice. Anything to make you feel better and be happy. And you’re the president of the Ni-ki Protection Club. It’s easy for you to read each other, so when things get to be a little too much, you’re always there to sweep him away to hole up in one of your rooms to heal and feel at home together. You’re always defending him no matter what, and he does the same. Even if you may not be aware of his protectiveness, Riki’s always keeping an eye out for you, and doesn’t hesitate to question those that are rude to you in any way.

A big thing for both of you is seeing each other truly enjoy themselves and have fun because, to say the least, life as an idol hasn’t been easy for either of you. So you’re constantly sharing moments with him where you're the only two people in the world, laughing and being carefree without sparing a thought to anything else. These moments happen at the most random times, where happy memories are created by doing the most impulsive things so you both have positive things to look back on. And since you both come from the same culture, spending time with him is like spending time with your younger self, and you can showcase yourself through your first language with him. Which is something that’s so unbelievably important to both of you. This connection with him keeps you in touch with the person you were before you moved to New Zealand and decided to become an idol, something that’s strangely calming. Quality time and words of affirmation are huge with Riki. So not only are you always making good memories with him, but you’re also giving him praise and cheering him on. You become the biggest hype woman when Riki’s involved. But it’s also routine for him to cheer you on in a different way. Simply by admiring you and your unreal performance skills, only to come up to you after a stage and cuddle into you. It’s his way of saying you were amazing by acknowledging how hard you’ve worked and by helping you relax again.

Speaking of cuddling, Riki is the final person that you share physical affection with the most! It’s the kind of touch that comes along with your first love, so he always wants to be near you and holding your hand. He isn’t afraid to be playful with his expressions sometimes… chasing you around, carrying you over his shoulder, wrestling and tickling you, all of it. So in return, you usually try to fight back. Other times, you just let it happen and hug him tightly when he’s calmed down. You both look at each other in a way that other people can’t help but gawk at, and he’s not afraid to show his love for you. HYBE isn’t very approving of these moments, though, so it’s rare for fans to get content with him leaning onto you and looking up at you with hearts as pupils. But, when things are live, nothing can stop him from showing off his feelings towards you.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

ties ur shoes for u, so. many. compliments, loves when u wear bows in ur hair, (lovingly) teasing u when u make choreo mistakes, cooking Japanese dishes to enjoy together, gets u little presents whenever the group travels (“this reminded me of u”), takes pics of u simply because he wants to keep the memories, matching phone cases, demands to sit next to u for car rides

✶ UNITZ

Maknae Line / Kiddoz, 위아래즈 / Top to Bottomz, 10Yearz, Clingyz

𑂴₍ᐢ𑂴ᐢ ₎ BONUS !

ꔫ ˖ 변상미 || ⵌ YNSANGZ - GOSSIPZ ?? popularity 73% besties since before I-LAND

᱖ Sangmi just kind of appeared when you were both trainees and immediately after two words were exchanged you became best friends. It was like you spawned in for each other. With her, you don’t feel the need to be anything you aren’t or the need to try and fill silences. You understand each other’s humor to the point where you’ll say the same niche references at the same time and start making obscure references that only the other would laugh at. You just get each other. It’s as simple as that. You’ve been through so much together: training, fighting for a spot in Enhypen, learning how to become an idol, and facing all of the hate the world has to offer. If it weren’t for her, you probably wouldn’t have even made it through the first part of I-Land. She was the only one who constantly stood up for you and made sure you were okay, and you both confided in each other and built a level of trust where you would pick her over anyone. And vice versa, of course. You tell each other everything and anything, so it’s like you guys share the same brain. She knows when you get tired of being out and about and you know when she gets into the headspace when the only thing she does is beat herself up. Therefore, you both also know all of the ways to help each other feel better. Even if it’s just lying in silence.

You’re always getting in trouble with her too, since it’s rare for you both to shut up when you’re together. Choreographers always have to scold you and when Enhypen is on tour sometimes the only way to separate you from Sangmi is if one of the boys literally carries you away. She’s like your cool older sister who you’re absolutely obsessed with and that you want to be just like. So sometimes you might steal her clothes without asking or use her lipstick, but she never gets mad at you because she does those exact same things too. You have to be careful when you’re shopping with Sangmi because anything you pick up or call “cute” she’ll buy it for you even if you insist you don’t actually want it (okay Sugar Mommy) and sometimes it makes you want to cry when you think about how generous and supportive she is. Being supportive is one of her strongest qualities so in return you do your best to shower her with love as well. Doing small tasks with her like running groceries, hyping her up, being understanding and listening, and making it clear that you truly know her.

You guys never really fight either. When you do, it’s more of a silent treatment until you hang out again and you say, “I was mad at you cause you blah blah blah” and then it’s easy to talk everything out. You’re really protective of her so if anyone so much as spells her name wrong on purpose they’re getting a side eye from you. Sangmi and you are like Sunshine x Sunshine and are convinced that you’re twins even though you don’t share a mother. You’re closer than best friends, and honestly, you actually are twins because you share part of the same soul. At your guys’ core, you are one.

✶ MORE THOUGHTS

best friend by laufey is ur ANTHEM, adapting each other’s texting styles, fans always catching u guys out n about w.out staff, barbie movie marathons, unit photo shoots putting the whole world in shock, irl Serena Van Der Woodsen and Blair Waldorf, clips upon clips of u guys gossiping, sonny angel collection competitions

✶ UNITZ

Tinyz, Sunshinez

마리셀의 노트 , I was looking at this and seriously thought I wrote so much for each member but they were all roughly between 500 ~ 600😅 requests will be opening soon so don’t be afraid to send stuff in!💗🌷 please disregard any grammar mistakes lololol🫶🏻💐

[ghcstao3]

(x)

-

The night of John’s first visit to meet Simon’s family, Simon and Tommy both get exiled to the kitchen to wash dishes after dinner so Beth, quote, can have a chat with someone who can properly gossip.

Of course, though somewhat reluctant, they both oblige. And as always, they settle into their silent rhythm, Simon washing and Tommy drying, uttering no more than a few words when something is needed. Because it’s just what they do, what they’ve always done, in a way—the two of them have always been men of few words.

But then Tommy is casting a quick, almost paranoid glance back to the dining room where Beth and John chat happily before bumping Simon’s shoulder and flashing a cheeky grin. All Simon can do is huff and raise a questioning eyebrow because of course his brother is going to pester him about John, now that they have a moment of almost-privacy.

“He’s cute,” Tommy teases, easily slipping into their mother tongue.

“He’s a friend,” Simon replies tersely. Now knowing what nonsense Tommy was going to bring up, Simon finds he has no issue returning his attention to the few dishes left to clean.

Tommy scoffs. “Friends don’t look at each other like that,” he says. “I know you like him, Simon. No point in hiding that.”

Simon sighs. He tries to force his tense shoulders to relax, but it’s no use. Is he really that obvious?

“I just—“ Simon swallows. He sets the dish he’d been scrubbing aside to instead brace his hands on the lip of the sink. “I don’t know if I can… admit it to him. Not yet, at least. He’s just…”

Tommy snorts. “He isn’t anything. I mean—it’s obvious he feels the same.”

Simon frowns at that, because surely it isn’t true. Johnny liking him like… like that? No, that just doesn’t seem quite right. Simon isn’t good enough for Johnny, couldn’t—wouldn’t be, not in a million years.

Tommy laughs, watching the emotions flicker across Simon’s face.

“Who else do you let invade your space like that?” Tommy asks. “Who else do you let call you Si?”

Simon’s frown deepens. “No one.”

Tommy hums, resuming his task of drying and storing. “Thought so.”

The rhythm they fall back into is stiff, only reminiscent of what it had been before. Simon’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, cataloguing every interaction, every conversation, every moment with Johnny over the night; over the years—could Tommy really be telling the truth?

“I can hear you thinking, idiot,” Tommy eventually mutters. “I wasn’t saying you need to profess your undying love or whatever tonight, but I am saying—“

“Beth sent me to see what was taking so long,” John suddenly interrupts from the doorway. Maybe there must be some truth to what his brother had said, given the way Simon’s heartbeat flutters the moment he hears Johnny’s voice. “Thought you both drowned.”

Tommy shakes his head, turning while Simon pointedly continues to wash. “We’ll be out in a minute,” he laughs. “Your lieutenant’s a bit slow at washing.”

“Am not,” Simon grumbles, but it’s no use. John is already disappearing back into the other room.

Wordlessly, Simon and Tommy finish up with the dishes, wipe down the counters, and make for the dining room to rejoin their other halves in whatever conversation they’d been sharing in the meantime.

But before they can, Tommy stops Simon and gives him a look that Simon can’t quite decipher.

“Just… think about it. He’s not as unattainable as you’ve convinced yourself he is,” Tommy says, then turns and leaves Simon with the aftershock of his words.

In no world does Simon think he’d confess his feelings that same night—but maybe, just maybe, Simon should listen to his brother’s advice for once.

[blingblong55]

Healing -Vladimir Makarov

A/N: this is not me telling you how reader looks^

Based on a request:

i love love LOVE the great war. i’m foaming at the mouth for a part 2 BUT can you maybe do something with vlad and his love taking a bath while he reads her poetry or something along the lines. again love your work you truly are amazing 🌷

---- F!Reader, fluff/romance, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, poetry read, pregnant!reader ----

It's been a long day, Vladimir and you haven't seen each other since you left bed. And now, as you walk inside your home, he greets you with a warm meal. "Ah, the girl I have been waiting for." He walks to you, wrapping you in his hold. "What's all this about?" you ask curiously. His hand on your belly, "I think my sweet wife deserves a treat, after all, you did some hard work today." He teases. "Shopping is a sport," you kiss his cheek and he guides you to the warm kitchen. For months since he found out he would become a father, he gave you a credit card, 'spend it on you and our little one.' he said and every day, he sends you out with at least two of his men to buy at least ten things.

He wanted this all to be a thank you, for turning his life around and giving him a new purpose and as you both eat a meal he so carefully cooked with love, he finds himself admiring you. You look up, insecure for some reason until he smiles. "Did you know you are the kind of woman men write poems about?" He continues eating and you feel yourself blushing and a rush of happiness. One thing about your husband is that he knows what to say and how to make you feel, especially, now that you carry your first child.

You look at him, "What have you so….happy today?" He shrugs, "I have many reasons to be happy. I have you, my lovely wife, today all went well, we have a son arriving in a few months and did I mention I have a lovely, beautiful, small and incredibly amazing wife?" You smile and look away. "I mean it, love. I seriously thank you for being part of my life so please just accept all my love because trust me, pretty girl, no one else can get this."

After that much-needed meal, he offers a bath. And as he warms the water for you both, he watches mesmerised as you undress in front of him. Your beautiful body is all for his gaze to admire. For some reason, Vladimir couldn't help but feel a gush of emotions, all good ones of course. The way the room lit up, showcasing all your beautiful features and there was him, watching a goddess undress. It was like a schoolboy, the feeling he had, blushing and looking away from how excited you made him. To others, it's nothing to see your beloved undress anymore but to him, this was a privilege.

They always portray men like him as heartless men with no soul behind their evil loving gaze but if you look closely, there it is, the warm fire that still shines through. "Get in the tub, my love," his voice was always so soft with you. It was comedic how it changed when he spoke to those who aren't you. He was always so cold to others but when he turned to you, gave you one glance or one word, his voice was pure and soft. His hand holding yours as you get in. Hold it until you sit down in the tub. The second he let go, as he walked to the counter of the bathroom, his hand flexed. He was anxious in many ways and for good reason since you had changed the man he was before.

In his hands was the old book of poems he collected of his favourite poets or wrote himself. The book was old, but the words inside were worth more than anything in the world. As he sat down, he could feel the warmth of your back to his chest. You laid against him, finding comfort in his embrace and in some romantic way, this was professing love with unspoken words. His free hand playing with your hair as he holds the book of poems. "Let's see my love, what poem shall I read you today?"

You point towards one. "First Love by John Clare," the title wrote. "Very well, my love." he kisses your head and begins. "I ne’er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet, Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale as deadly pale, My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked, what could I ail? My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away, The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start— They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice? Is love’s bed always snow? She seemed to hear my silent voice, Not love's appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling-place And can return no more."

His voice throughout the poem so steady, and clean and expresses the same emotion the poem itself meant to convey. He places the book on the small shelf by the tub, his arms wrapping you in a loving embrace. "Did you like it?" Vladimir's head resting on your shoulder as his hands caress your belly. "Mhm…I loved this one." your voice was soft as you began to relax with him. "Good, my love," he whispers before kissing your shoulder, one of his hands so delicately lifting your hair as the other writes on your back.

"I- L-O-V-E- Y-O-U" his fingertips spell out. You try and figure out what the message was but before you begin to think, you feel his soft and warm lips kiss the back of your neck. To him, this was the most beautiful thing lovers could do that also meant intimacy. Sitting in a tub, looking out a window that brings light to the bathroom, reading poetry and then doing something like this, kissing your neck with nothing but love, rubbing the same belly that carries his child. And then you got it, "I love you too, Vlad," you lean back, your head turning and your lips meeting his.

It was as if no other worry could bother either of you. Being here, that is what counts and in the darkest corner of his heart, he feels all those old wounds and worries heal. This is real, this moment in time, that is what feels so unreal to those who can't have this privilege but to both of you, this is real, it's love to its simplicity.

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @liyanahelena @selarus @kielsegur @mseccentricks @johfaam0 @moonsua1 @rvivienner @frazie99 @viomast @vampsquerade @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare

[waldau-archived]

crescendo — chwe hansol | 1,042 words | fluff

boinon! chwe! hansol! back on my marriage agenda because it's ME. song taken from vernon's playlist from weverse magazine. also i'm a firm believer that vernon is the kind of guy who looks at two of anything and just goes "us." please enjoy me simping for him.

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

you notice vernon's not sleeping anymore.

he's looking up at you from where his head is resting on your chest. he always does this thing where his gaze is focused on you till you acknowledge it, whether it's by asking him what's up, or blushing at how intense it is.

this time, though, you don't do anything to shake the moment. so it's just you looking down into his eyes that are looking back at you, and it's not the first time you've paused to admire his eyes.

before vernon, you didn't really understand how you could be lost in someone's eyes. but his eyes? hazel brown, shining when they catch the light just right, a hundred thoughts running through them. streaks of light you wish you could decode.

there's a soft love song playing in your ears while your hands rest on his chest, tracing the shapes of the stars on his shirt. he manages to look good even when he's upside down, somehow.

soft. vernon would shake his head if you said that to him out loud, but he wouldn't deny it. not anymore. he likes when you call him nicknames. he likes when you call him, even. content to listen to your self-professed rambling about whatever's on your mind.

just like you're content to listen to him ask you ridiculous questions out of the blue. ridiculous to anyone who doesn't know him.

"do you believe we're made of the same stuff stars are made of?"

you'd blinked out of the show you'd been watching. "i...yeah? technically? hydrogen and all."

"does that mean we found each other all those years ago? and not just now?"

vernon has a way with words, really. he doesn't downplay it, but that's because you don't let him know how much it affects you in the first place. you could be talking about two seeds in a segment of tangerine and he'd say it was the both of you. two moths flying around a lamp? you.

and then there's times you think his humour couldn't get any worse.

"hey, you dropped something."

you'd looked around to find nothing out of place. "what?"

"my jaw."

suffice to say, vernon didn't get a single kiss from you for the next few hours.

(of course, you'd had to make it up to him with a ton of kisses and cuddles later on.)

right now, he's still looking at you, and the song has changed. you don't know the name of it, having picked it from the playlist vernon made for you, that he keeps adding to.

i hope you like this, he'd said shyly, when he'd sent you the link to it.

it's not surprising that you've liked almost every song you've heard so far. of course, there's a few that don't match your vibe, but when you close your eyes and think of vernon enjoying the song, lost in his own world, it makes you like them a little more.

back to the present. your fingers are tapping along to the rhythm of the song, something about love and self-doubt, upbeat yet heart-wrenching with a guitar riff that's so painfully vernon that you have to lean down and kiss his head.

vernon grabs your fingers where they're dancing on his chest and presses a kiss to your thumb. then your index finger. then the rest of your fingers. and then your palm.

you stop the song, amused at how affectionate he's being.

"what's up?" you ask, taking off your earphones.

he shakes his head. you push at his shoulder lightly.

"keep listening to your song."

you frown. "am i ignoring you?"

vernon sighs. "not at all. it's just...you'll stop doing it if i point it out."

"stop doing what?"

he takes your hand and places it on his chest, trapping it in place with his own. "you do this...thing. you tap out a song on me when we're not listening to it together. and then i try to guess what you're listening to. and i almost always get it wrong. it's...silly."

your heart feels too big for your chest. "vern? have i ever told you how much i love you?"

he shuts his eyes, a smile on his face. "yeah. 'course you have. love you, too."

squeezing his hand that's holding yours, you resume playing the song. he lets go of your hand so you can continue tapping out the beats.

"can you guess what it was?" you ask, once the song ends.

"hm. kinda fast paced, and there's only a few of those on there. breaking the law?"

"nope."

"rock with you?"

you shake your head. "did you really add one of your own songs on there?"

"hey, we make good music, too."

"never denied that."

vernon shrugs. "i don't know."

"marry me."

vernon freezes noticeably under your hand, before pushing it away and sitting up, staring at you.

it's just you and him and the silence in the room. his eyes have you trapped in place, unable to look elsewhere.

"by ellegarden!" you blurt out, suddenly realizing how your words could be misconstrued. "it's..." you scroll through the playlist. "the first song you ever put in there."

"oh," is all he says, but he's blushing. he's blushing. you made your famously stoic boyfriend blush.

"vernon? did you think i..."

"...maybe?"

you let out a small laugh at that. "do you really think...have you ever thought about getting...y'know?

"married?" he asks, smirking. "you shouldn't ask me about it if you're so shy."

"i didn't—!" it's a losing battle. of course you've thought about it, and of course you're shy about it. spending the rest of your life with the person who means the most to you sounds like a dream, and you're living in it right now. halfway there.

"if it's any consolation," vernon says, slotting his fingers with yours, "i've thought about it."

"and?"

"i like it."

it's nearing six in the evening. vernon has his head on your chest again, listening to a song with you this time. you're going to have to listen to it again, the way your brain is clouded by thoughts of him and you.

it can't get better than this.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[mindless-existence1]

Hiiiii!!!! I would love to request a oneshot of Rise!Leo having his first kiss with the reader (gender neutral). I want the oneshot to take place after the ROTTMNT movie, and I want it to have a love confession!! (Leo can be the one who confesses)

If you can do this for me, it would absolutely make my day!! THANK YOU!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Authors note: So like the request says this is gn reader and it's implied that Leo and Reader have been friends for a while. Also reader can fight so they are present during the kranng fights. Hope you enjoy! Also not beta read so might have a lot of errors!

REQUESTS OPEN! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER AS WELL!

The lair was tense, the Hamato family was scattered around. Donnie, Mikey, and Splinter were in the med bay doing check ups. Raph was in his room and April and Casey were out getting food.

You and Leo were in his room, sitting together in silence. Something Leo had said caught you off guard during the last battle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FlashBack~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Leo got stuck with one of the smaller krangs under a large cave of rubble. The creature had gotten a hit on your shoulder that caused you to fall down. Leo's rage fueled him to finally kill the monster.

He ran to you falling to his knees in worry next to you. Tears start to build in his eyes as he holds pressure onto your wound. You're going in and out of unconsciousness from the blood loss.

"Y/n? Y/n please stay with me." His voice seems hoarse and he can feel the tears start running down his face. When you don't respond he starts to panic "I can't lose you! Y/n I love you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of FlashBack~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you a sitting facing each other on the terrapin's bed. He was fiddling with his fingers in embarrassment. You had finally gotten done getting stitched up meaning you were free to leave the infirmary.

You immediately went searching for the turtle leader. The two of you hadn't had time to talk about what you heard Leo say. Although you were delirious you can't help but hear the repeating three words playing in your head.

That leads you to being in awkward silence trying to ignore the way both of you are flushed. Leo had secretly hoped you were too out of it to understand what he said. Or hope you ignored it. Anything to keep him from this.

Leo wished to keep your relationship intact. But s profession of love? Absolutely not part of any plan he had about telling you how he felt. Not that he was going to even attempt to confess to you but still, not part of the plan!

Your voice breaks through his thought spiral. "Leo-" You can't even get the words out before he interrupts you. "Do you remember anything that I said." He knows he doesn't have to specify when, although he wants to deny it deep down he knows you heard.

"I remember all of it." Leo's breath catches at your words. He begins to ramble. "I'm sorry, you can just forget everything I said-" He starts to let out every last thought he has.

He starts to move his hands around while speaking sporadically. With quick thinking you quickly lean in, gently grabbing the sides of his face. Your lips meet, effectively shutting him up.

For a second both of you are still. Leo's whole body frozen in shock. After a minute he seems to come back to himself. Leo begins to deepen the kiss as best he can.

It's uncoordinated and slightly awkward with your position. But to him it's like fireworks going off all around you. When you part Leo follows your lips in a desperate attempt to keep you close. You heavy breathing mixes together from the close proximity.

Leo rests his forehead on yours, his eyes hazy and half closed. Leo begins to try and speak again, hes even more feazzled then before. You cut him off before he can go down a rabbit hole again. "Leo I love you too now please just shut up."

You lean in to kiss him again, this time feeling a smile pull at his lips. His hand reaches up to the back of your head to pull you in closer to him. "Just this once I can do that."

[littlepuddingsworld]

Okay, this is going to sound insane, but please hear me out.

In the 19th century, there were doctors who specialised in curing "female hysteria", which was often just misdiagnosed sexual frustration (Whenever women were too out of control for men to handle, it was diagnosed as hysteria. So it was basically anything, sexual frustration included...). The cure was fingering...yeah. It was relatively normalised to, as a doctor, finger someone's wife...quite a way to make a living. There was basically a handbook written in Latin about how you do it (oil up your hand, insert here, there will be muscle contraction, the lady in question will breathe heavily before ultimately having a hysteria paroxysm (this is a former medical term for orgasms btw)). Obviously, there were mixed opinions about giving another man's wife an orgasm, however, the Catholic doctors concluded that it cannot have been sexual, since there was no penetration. "It's our duty as doctors to cure these poor women of their hysteria, Sir 🫡"

FUN FACT: Since some doctors would experience wrist pain from the...hard manual labour, they invented a device that does it for them: The vibrator. When the vibrator was first used in pornography, the doctors said NOPE and left their profession behind. In 2011, there was a period romcom made about this called Hysteria. It's not even that bad, unironically. Oh and by the way, the name hysteria is derived from the Greek word hystera, meaning uterus, hence why only women were diagnosed with hysteria.

Anyway, getting to my point:

Imagine a yandere thinking that you're being incredibly hysterical, emotional, out of control and then proceeding to sit you down and curing you of your hysteria the old-fashioned way...

They either do it knowingly, or are just too oblivious to even realise that what they are doing is...not quite the correct solution for the problems they caused you in the first place...

Just wanted to share this with someone...take it as you will...

,,, to be honest, I knew about the hysteria, but I didn't know about the fact that a vibrator was created that way,,,, sexy big brain<3333 i love your words so much, mercury kissed you at birth,,,, very brainy, very many cerebral convolutions, I love it,,, come here to kith kith pretty pie—

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

your husband is so sweet, so adorable — especially when he's on his knees in front of you, purring something about how he should help you, as if it's not his personal fault that you feel like this.

... ♡ unhealthy relationship, misconception of the century / time, hierarchical society, mild sexism? (more classism?), mild maledom elements, mention of religion, forced marriage implied, male pregnancy mentioned because no pregnant reader, unethical treatment methods?; doctor!noble!husband x darling!reader

dubious consent (dubcon) -> consensual sex, crying, mild sadism/masochism, mention of degradation (g.), hair pulling (g.), oral sex (r.), mild fingering (r.), praise (r.)

If THEODORE had been told that he was "mistreating his darling spouse", he would have

agreed.

It was logical: if he treated you well, then would you enter into a frenzy of emotions, scream and look as if you were about to faint before falling at a table made of pleasantly smelling wood, — Theodore knew that you love this variety; almost all tables, chairs and other wooden utensils was of this sort, — completely exhausted, unable even to drive away your narrow-minded husband, only waving a fragile palm in his direction, as if desperate, while he took your fan, straight from the hands of the best chinese craftsmen, and gently fanned you, letting you hang head? Of course not.

You, his breathtaking spouse, were so touching and gentle, full of spring charm and a few drops of exquisite, expensive coquetry, like the first flowers in spring — delicate, almost transparent, not at all like the luxury of scarlet roses that gardeners grow every season, or the exuberant scent of lilac and juniper, especially in July. Not at all. Your charm was subtle, unique, corresponding to the rumbling of the first rivers or the first drop falling from the roofs after the melting of the snow. You have never been a socialite — never; parents were rich enough to support you and your siblings, but not rich enough to live in idleness and not worry about money.

You were introduced at the first ball and attended others from time to time, but most of the time you couldn't afford to walk around with "old dresses", not wanting to be considered poor or shame family by not being able to buy new clothes. Theodore understood perfectly well — being from a not-so-rich family, somehow coping with this whole world, you simply could not afford to live bohemian, expensive and shameless out of fear that money was too little, as if you did not even think that you could just marry someone rich and sponsor with their help your family. Theodore didn't blame, having heard about you for the first time from the mouths of other dandies who follow every new "coquette fan", more than an eloquent sign of finding a partner, though; "too conscientious and didn't understand how this world works" or just a prude,

but now, he understands that you just knew your worth and waited for someone like

him.

After all, in a world where divorce can only happen after death, and infidelity is punished by an enraged spouse with a knife, how could you easily marry someone? You were so alluring, like ripe peaches filled with juice — naturally, not everyone can and should touch your delicate, perfumed hands and caress skin so soft that no overseas silk can compare.

Theodore was sure that there were words about you: "If the cost of their kiss was hell, // then I will kiss their lips, // so that in hell I can brag to the devils // that I was in heaven without even entering it." Because you were paradise, it didn't matter if you smiled, cried or screamed — or were "not a couple who deserved," but only because you could have become the monarch's spouse right away, but he found you earlier.

He had no doubt that you were special — definitely to him. Therefore, he did not think long before he came to your parents to take you to his estate, in the sweetly itchy haste of first and only love, kissing your hands and touching the slightly trembling fan with thin fingers while you looked down in frightened amazement, while your parents confusedly exchanged glances, not understanding why he came to "court you". Theodore did not ask if you had someone — after all, if you had, you would rather slit your throat than let another touch your thin fingers, because he would have done exactly the same in your place if he were still a dependent young man (now, of course, he was not — having studied at a very prestigious university, where his parents also studied, he was more than an enviable independent bachelor and knew it). And if earlier he was afraid that, what if!, was not "normal", then when saw you, he knew that he had been waiting for you all this time — and you were undoubtedly waiting for him too.

If, in order to be with you, he had to refuse the sky, the sun and the moon, he would do it without hesitation. This is love — Theodore had no doubt that you yourself understand this.

Your parents, however, soon dispelled his prejudices. You didn't just "didn't understand it" — you weren't like that, but Theodore, hesitating only for a few seconds, realized that you just weren't like everyone else. While others were blinded by love, like him, you couldn't be like that — you just didn't understand it, didn't feel like that, and your parents were only afraid that your "defect" in the marriage market would make you lonely for the rest of days.

Theodore, however, did not think so: you were the same age as him, he was childless, unmarried, rich and educated, had an estate with intelligent and trained servants, good sources of income, a lot of free time, did not have the habit of drinking a lot of alcohol or tobacco, — and the fact that you were allegedly "not sensual enough" was, of course, stupidity. He wasn't going to use the fact that you can't pick up a knife to kill an unfaithful spouse! And I wasn't going to cheat! He won't do any harm! Yes, you may be a little... very very little defective-ish, but isn't love blind? He will accept you at any cost, even with such a... 'setback'.

... Of course, it is wrong and even abnormal that you cannot kill someone who is cheating on you, and are not ready to die just to be with someone you love, and that it is wild for you to give up everything for your beloved... But Theodore understands that you are already too perfect, and it's okay to have flaws. He's not thirteen anymore.

As long as this is not passed on to children, everything will be fine, please, don't worry, ma joie, — he gently whispers to you, touching gloved fingers, stroking fingers gently, looking into your very happy face ? — I'll accept you for who you are, even with this. With everything. Because you and I, being whole by ourselves, become more than just "ourselves" together.

And it was true, don't get him wrong! His pedigree was good, he was, uh, "thoroughbred," and his family tree was beautiful, worthy of your hand. Theodore was not self-confident, but he was confident, buying everything you want, not walking through salons and entertainment houses and not being in any dubious circles, his entourage was only intelligent people who had an education and could both write and read, and not in two languages, and there was no one in his circle someone of the same gender, and he wasn't squeamish or suspicious. After all, what else can you worry about? But you were worried. Over time, it's even a little noisy.

You shouted, sometimes threw yourself, behaved strangely, as if he was not a refined learned man who was your shadow and wrote poetry to you, not forcing you to do anything even after your approved marriage, but a brute or an invader. Did he take you away without permission? Perhaps using his status in society to a little and influence your parents with children who have not yet appeared to the beau monde, and used a little influence to convince these people that he will help your siblings in the future to find a better match than they can now count on — but then why does he need it: status, influence, reputation, — if he can't even convince his love to stay with him? Otherwise, you can't blame—

... Oh wait.

You can.

Theodore realizes with annoyance, sitting hs office with a book in hands, writing notes in diary, and adjusts his glasses: he had completely forgotten — you're "not like that." You're different. Your parents told him. You understand love differently, you look at your partner differently, you cannot understand the concept of love itself... Theodore used to think that they just raised you wrong, but now he understands what they meant: that the feelings that ordinary people spend on a partner, you leave inside, letting them accumulate, and when you realize that you can no longer, you emotionally explode and behave as if something is wrong with him or you — it's obvious! You just can't do it any other way! Of course, why else would you be unhappy with your situation? After all, it's natural that your family hardly communicates with you or that you can't spend a lot of time outside the house — everyone lives like that, except the unmarried! You just don't understand it!

Because you are so emotional, so sensitive, so responsive, that, naturally, you need special care and care, and not a sidelong glance from your husband, who behaved so coldly, only supporting, but not helping you in any way! After all, he studied at the best university, was one of the best students, even had an internship and, of course, corresponded with his comrades, learning new ways to deal with diseases and disorders. After all, what kind of "good husband" is he if he can't even help his gentle, easily excitable spouse cope with their, he's not afraid of that word, illness?

You just don't understand...

“... Darling, we need to make one thing.”

You are gentle, soft, not submissive — both in clothes and under them, and although you may consider him a little pathetic when he whispers it to you, burying cold nose in your thigh like a lost dog, but after shouting and throwing things, you are no longer so full of destructive energy. Holding him tightly by the hair, you look down with pursed lips, but do not answer anything — and in expensive clothes, with jewelry, sleek and clearly not deprived of the love and affection of a bohemian husband, you look like a deity that descended from heaven.

Theodore knows that he must decontaminate for sure, but what can a spouse hide from a spouse, right? After all, you are more than a "single whole", especially when he is sitting on his lap, no problem as long as you are sitting on a chair made of your favorite wood, soft and comfortable enough, allowing him to carefully get rid of excess clothes without disgrace, looking at how thin lips touch your skin in a respectfully pious way.

Even your heavy breathing from the outburst of emotions sounds like music that should be played in the church if they want the heavenly ambassadors to descend.

Is he too "sugary"?

No, he's just a realist.

“Darling, please...”

You don't push away even when fingers gently touch your thighs like feathers, just frowning a little harder. But not by pushing it away. You are smart, you always have been, and, of course, you yourself understand that you are sick, and only he, as your husband and doctor, can help you. It's natural. Why do you need another men- or women- another doctor? How dare someone else touch you? Only you can touch him and only he can touch you. He's yours — a husband, a doctor, anyone. As soon as you become healthier, he will definitely be your lover — and maybe one day you will take a child or will he carry it. After all, how dare he sleep with you and use you, so gentle and airy, like a messenger from heaven, while you are so deeply ill, not even really knowing what love is and how to react to it?

“Darling... It's just a little help. Just say the word and we'll stop anytime. I don't want to harm my spouse, you know... Besides, you can always stop me by force.”

You yourself spread your warm, soft, almost plush thighs while he meekly looks up from the bottom, trying to unobtrusively encourage you to let him just look a little. Theodore was not an expert on issues related to sex life or the influence of genitals on human behavior, — although, undoubtedly!, it was important, but he preferred less dirty things, — but now, kneeling in front of you on a soft carpet, stroking your skin, it did not seem something vile or dirty, animal, but for some reason pleasant and... airy-natural; the very sight made him want not to wince and turn away, but not to look away, even when you pull his hair harder, frowning, clearly not too willing to continue this, but it's better than if he drags you to someone else.

You knew yourself that your husband sometimes got too involved with the human body in a not too, uh, "harmless" sense, but it was never dangerous or illegal, unless against the law of god, so you let him correspond with 'friends' and 'colleagues', studying new diseases and learning more about experience and practice. But if you knew that one day you would be the subject of research, you would definitely throw his ink and letters into the fireplace — along with other things.

“Mi único... I want to help... Do you know what hysteria is? This is when a darling behaves very much... emotionally because of the internal tension. And so we have recently come up with a... new way to deal with similar diseases. It can help our marriage... Te quaeso?”

Theodore is not an idiot; rather, he feels like a trainer or a tamer, gently pushing and touching, without making any sudden movements while you look at him, gradually relaxing the tense body, letting his fingers, slightly slippery from oil and disinfectants, touch the delicate skin of the inner thigh, massaging and stroking, not hurrying. He doesn't have much experience — practically none, you never shared a bed even after the "wedding night", — but there is enough theory and ideas how to use it, especially when thin, slightly cool fingers slowly touch the skin under stomach, stroke as lightly as possible along a sensitive line, kissing with warmed lips the skin. If he could, he'd love to just open his mouth and eat you, or at least nibble — but he's not the type who eats his darling and then walks around saddened widowers and widows without the opportunity to remarry, he's a more sophisticated type and definitely not that creepy, even if the way you are you pull his hair as fingers gently circle around, rubbing and stroking, using precum for better contact, makes his eyes water and his mouth open slightly, breathing, feeling too ambiguous even for a "husband", let alone the role of the "doctor" in which he was.

“Please... d-darling...” He chirps something slightly hoarsely, stroking, caressing, breathing every other time, as if you are holding not by the hair, but by the throat; when his fingers tremble slightly, you hiss, making him blush slightly shamefacedly, as if from your swearing, — but he tries not to break the rhythm, ignoring, as befits a refined well-mannered husband. Do well-mannered husbands use their fingers on their spouses? Theodore doesn't have that much experience to respond, especially when you flinch slightly, curling your toes, — and he wants to bite just to remove this strange shameful, almost perverted feeling of a mixture of lust and guilt inside, clearly not too approved by religion, but when you start breathing shallowly and harder, closing your eyes, Theodore moves his fingers faster, watching your face.

Is that right? You don't hold him so tightly, but don't take your hand away, and his fingers are so slippery and wet that he's almost ashamed, as if it's all his juices, and he definitely should at least look away, but this is scientific curiosity, just curiosity, even when he changes his position, sinking lower shamelessly, feeling himself for a moment, it really was some kind of fallen man from entertainment houses, with an implicit gurgling feeling in the lower abdomen, listening only to your breathing and slightly squelching sounds. Theodore hardly breathes, looking at his fingers, trying for a moment to distract himself with the fleeting thought "good that cut nails" — but when your... your bare foot touches his shoulder, it seems so perversely seeing your calves that he does not know where to look — freezing for a moment, his eyes are drawn only to you, even if it looks so... sweetly vulgar, completely wrong, — but you're already married, so it's okay even if you're not like that, right? It's okay when he sees something below your neck and bare arms, it's okay when you squeeze his hair tightly again, it's okay when he hears your hot, loud breathing, as if you're breathing directly into his red ears, although he can't even look up from the way you're holding him.

Your fingers are strong, dexterous, squeezing his strands so hard that he can't move anywhere, but for some reason he is too pleased with this than he should be, even when Theodore feels like you are pushing him even closer shamelessly, as if he is not your, actually, noble and high-minded husband, who is now plays the role of your doctor, helping you with your "hysteria", but some kind of fun boy!

Outrageous!

“D-darl-!~”

You hiss something, almost growl — and pull too hard, forcing Theodore to briefly let out a distant sigh without resistance — and obediently open his mouth, hastily removing his fingers so as not to interfere before he finds a new, more comfortable place. His eyes are slightly watering from the mild pain, but when he does not see a shadow of the old irritation or anger in your face, he obediently sticks out the tip of his red tongue, not trying to shirk his doctoral duties — or is this already a marital duty? Theodore doesn't know, he's not sure, — especially when you hold him even tighter, not listening to what he says, knowing that if he really was "against it", he would have already got out, and not looked at you like a fawn at a hunter, as if it wasn't because of him that you were here, with legs spread apart and heavy breathing from the heaviness in the lower abdomen.

Is this really what he was taught at university?

A boy for fun.

The corners of your husband's eyes turn red, but he does not try to say anything or justify himself, — why should he? — making inarticulate sounds, but only moving his head, hesitantly holding your hips as much as he could do it respectfully and unobtrusively; after all, he is a learned man, even if he was kneeling like some kind of animal or a slave.

When Theodore awkwardly, clumsily moves his tongue, trying to make sure that you feel good, for some reason the world feels much brighter and sharper, — especially when the heat gets stronger, making you tremble slightly, feeling a wide tongue and thin flexible fingers, as if they are perfect only for this, but there is less air in your lungs than you need to continue dirty deservedly whisper to him how low he has sunk, from his 'writing letters to the best doctors he studied with' to kneeling in front of his spouse.

It's not that you're going to stop him or let him change his position, of course, but just force him to continue doing what he's good for, while he's almost meowing, almost purring, not trying to pull away anymore.

... It's not that he's wrong, though.

You definitely feel better after a little therapy.

[atlaserine]

Villain stared at the hero trapped and tied in a chair in his lair.

"This is 1 A.M" Villain said, half awake and half annoyed that one of his henchman had awoken him from slumber just to report that someone has infiltrated his lair. That someone who's now sitting right in front if him with her mask taken off.

Hero looked down with a bit of embarrassment. She wasn't one to back out from a fight, nor was she one to ask for help, especially from the biggest threat in her profession. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Speak" Villain's voice snapping hero out from her mind as she looked up to him. His voice that has gotten down an octave made it clear that he wanted to finish this quickly, or maybe finish her quickly and get back to bed.

"I need your help" It came out of the Hero's mouth too fast. And before she could regret it while hoping Villain hadn't heard her, Villains eyebrow was already raised, studying Hero with a glint of curiosity and interest in his eyes, debating whether he should listen to her or just finish this off once and for all.

The hero? The city's greatest hero asking for her enemy's help? The one who's been a thorn on his side for years asking for his help? One of her enemy must've hit her in the head too hard, The Villain thinks.

Looking at Villains face made her bit her lower lip nervously, all the regret of coming here coming right at her like a train.

"Look, I know what you're thinking. B-but you're the only one who's ever seen me without my mask. Not Sidekick, not Superhero, not even the Agency-"

And it was true. Hero chose to kept her identity a secret, strictly, wanting to protect the people closest to her and also living a double life. One as a hero and one as a normal citizen...untill she met Villain. The only one who's able to locate everything about her, the only villain who's ever gotten her so close to death. But that's a story for another time.

Hero took a deep breath before she fixed her posture a bit in what little space she had between the ropes and the chair. She tilted her head up and stared back at Villain.

"...Someones following me, I mean the citizen me. And I don't know who they are, I don't know what their intention is, I tried to just ignore them but it has gotten to a point where I saw them standing beside my apartment building when I wanted to get back after my shift- a-and im afraid they'll connect the dots and find out that I'm Hero. S-so I...ran.."

Hero shrugged her shoulder as she heard herself speak, she felt truly pathetic for this. She was a hero, she shouldn't have..run. But the possibility of another person knowing her secret was too high. So, the hero continued,

"I... came here because I didn't know...where else to go. I- i'll do anything, I promise. Just help me get whoever this is out of my tail...without killing them and I know you have some sort of- high tech machine to do that. Surely, a...an evil genius like you could come up with something!"

Villains eyes widened as Hero said all that. Never in his life has he seen the all mighty, all righteous, all stubborn Hero so...so stupid. Yet it did humoured him a bit. And after what felt like hours of staring at each other, Villain smiled, chuckled even. Leaned down untill he was face to face with Hero, a smirk forming in his face

"God, you are desperate are you?"

[dyns33]

Rafiq alruwh

I'm not sure yet if this will be a Bane x reader oneshot or not.

I like it like that, but I could find ideas for part 2. My only problem being that I still need to finish others Tom Hardy's characters story, while wanting to write Feyd Rautha stories.

As much as Y/N listened to these stories over and over again, she couldn't imagine the feeling everyone would describe.

The moment your skin touched your soulmate's skin, and suddenly everything became clear, better. A feeling of joy and the burning need to stay by this person's side forever.

It was a rare phenomenon that scientists could not explain. It was completely impossible to know when this would happen, or if it would happen, because fate seemed cruel. Most people either didn't have soulmates or didn't have the chance to meet them in their lifetime. The world was too big and time too short.

There were still skeptics, who claimed that it was all nonsense, lies, invented by people blinded by love or who wanted to give themselves a certain gender. Only those who ended up meeting the person changed their mind, the others remaining too jealous to accept the truth, considering that it was only a romantic utopia.

Y/N wanted to believe in it. She dreamed of meeting her soulmate and experiencing this special moment.

Her parents were not meant to be together. It was visible.

In her entourage, she had an uncle who had had this experience, a few neighbors, a friend, and all had said the same thing.

What they had in common was that they were all good people. Maybe that was one of the reasons.

“You might have had to choose another type of profession then.”

"Mom…"

“I’m just saying that cop is not the most popular job in the world.”

"And I would say that choosing to be a non-corrupt police officer in Gotham is almost like being a saint."

"You'll end up getting killed, long before you meet your soulmate. I'll never understand why you wanted to be a cop, especially in this town."

There came a day when her mother's fears almost became a reality. The day when terrorists took the entire city hostage with a bomb, preventing everyone from entering and leaving.

It was probably not what she had thought when she talked about dying, but for several months, hidden with her colleagues, Y/N thought about her soulmate, trying to imagine this meeting that would probably never happen.

Staying mainly with Blake and Gordon, she tried to hide her pain, but it did not escape Miranda Tate, who took her hand with a gentle smile and asked what was tormenting her.

“We’re going to die here.” Y/N whispered. "I mean, I'm not afraid of that, that's the risk of the job. But… I didn't think it would be like this now. I wish I had met my soulmate before."

"Your rafiq alruwh. I didn't think many people cared about it here."

"My what ?"

"That's how my father called soulmates. I grew up with a lot of stories about it, because he and my mother were related. I prayed a lot to be that for one of my friends, but no. Our destinies are linked, but not like that.”

"Sorry."

"Even if I would have liked him to be mine, I wish him happiness and that he meets his other half one day. A being worthy of him, of his love and his protection. He deserves to be happy. You too, you seem kind. Maybe you shouldn't have been here."

Her words were strange, but Y/N didn’t tell the others. It wouldn't have changed anything anyway. Even though she had discovered that Miranda Tate had the detonator, that she was the real leader of the terrorists, the streets remained controlled by the militias.

As always, they were saved by the Batman. She had never really known what to think of the vigilante, protected by Gordon and hated by everyone else. He clearly wanted to help Gotham, but his methods remained illegal, and not necessarily effective in the long term.

His death was a tragedy, but not necessarily the end of a symbol. Hope was still there, even stronger, and the Gotham police were determined to ensure everyone's safety.

Y/N felt this determination too.

Still, she froze as she inspected the sewers with Blake and Ramirez. They too had a moment of hesitation, as their lamps illuminated a body. A huge body, sitting against the wall, face hidden by this frightening mask.

There had been a search for Bane and his men after the explosion. Witnesses said the Batman fought him, and won, but they found nothing.

Obviously, the terrorist had managed to drag himself here to die.

"What do we do ?" Ramirez asked shyly. “Should we put a bullet in his head ?”

"What ? Why do you want to do this ?"

"To make sure he's dead. I've seen a lot of movies, man, I know the mistakes to avoid."

She didn't approve of the speech, but Y/N agreed, it was necessary to check it out.

Feeling almost stupid, she moved forward slowly, her hand reaching towards Bane to see if he felt a pulse.

She didn't expect the large hand that quickly grabbed her neck before she could touch him.

Fear paralyzed her body, and yet there was something else. An indescribable, incredible feeling, which resembled happiness but more intense, which was absurd in this situation.

Y/N felt so lost that she didn't realize the hand was relaxing, just resting against her skin instead of squeezing and snapping her neck like it easily could have done.

"Habibi…" was the word spoken with difficulty by Bane, who stared at her with an indecipherable expression.

“Let her go right now, you bastard !”

Maybe he was as confused as her, or maybe he was too weak, but the terrorist didn't avoid Ramirez's punch, while Blake grabbed Y/N to pull her as far away as possible.

She stood still, not understanding what was happening, as Ramirez called for reinforcements, proud of having been able to knock out the giant, even though he knew as well as anyone that he would have had no chance. if his mask hadn't been damaged and he wasn't half dead. It was not possible.

Bane couldn't be her soulmate, Y/N refused to believe it. A man like him had no soul, not after everything he had done, and above all why would he be destined for her ? She didn't feel like she had committed a crime that deserved such punishment.

She was probably never going to see him again anyway.

If he survived to Blackgate, he would be locked there forever. Even if she had permission, she had no intention of visiting him.

But the feeling remained there, strong, impossible to ignore, demanding more. An incomprehensible need to be close to the one who had touched her, so that he would touch her again.

Y/N resisted. She gave her report to Commissioner Gordon, forgetting a few small details, and indicating that she did not wish to follow this case, leaving Bane's case to better agents than her.

This seemed to surprise him, as he considered her one of his best people, but he accepted.

However, it was impossible not to think of her soulmate, since the whole town was only talking about him and his arrest. The television was on loop every day, and her colleagues thought they were doing the right thing by keeping her informed of progress.

"They say his face is horrible. I think there are photos in the file."

"I'd love to see that ! I can't imagine that fucker at all without his weird mask. Do you think he has a normal voice without that thing ?"

“I can go get it so we check.”

Ramirez's gaze met hers as he stood, and without her needing to speak, he knew it was best for him to sit back down and change the subject.

Y/N didn’t see the photos. She absolutely didn't want to.

After several weeks, she asked to take a vacation, claiming to still be traumatized by what had happened to her, in addition to the near destruction of Gotham. She needed some time to rest.

Turning off all the screens and her phone, she tried meditation to clear her mind, so she could get some sleep and forget that her soulmate was a crazy, half-dead terrorist who would soon be judged.

This miserable attempt being a failure, she turned her phone back on shortly after midnight, only to be bombarded with calls and messages, coming from several colleagues, Blake, and Gordon.

"What is happening ?" she asked, calling the Commissioner back.

"Damn, I almost sent men to check on you, you weren't responding ! Where are you ? Are you okay ?"

“I’m at home, why ?”

"Don't panic. Blake will come get you."

“Gordon, what’s going on ?”

"He hasn't said anything since his arrest, keeping very quiet, and then yesterday Bane spoke. He asked to see you, giving your name. The other agents are categorical, it's impossible that he knows ot, no one told him. The agent simply replied that you were not on the investigation, and even on vacation… Damn, he…"

“Gordon, what ?”

"He escaped, Y/N. We don't know how. No one knows where he is, or what he's going to do. But since he talked about you, I don't want to take any risks. Don't move, John will come right away."

She could have told him that she knew very well why Bane had spoken about her, and that it was undoubtedly necessary for her to leave without delay, but fear held her back.

Even if it wasn't her fault, what would the commissioner think when he learned of her connection to the fugitive ? He was a good man, but all men had their limits, and she would be the first to be wary of someone designated as Bane's soulmate.

After hanging up, she jumped out of bed to grab her gun and shoes, ready to wait for Blake to arrive in her living room.

Y/N froze in the middle of the hallway, seeing the huge figure standing between her and the front door.

His face was covered by a scarf, his posture a little less proud than in the videos she had seen of him during his city hostage situation, he appeared to be in pain, but it was obvious that if she tried to pass, he would retain her without the slightest difficulty.

“Habibi.” he whispered, and indeed his voice was different without his mask, more human. "What a joy to see you again. More beautiful than I remember or on pictures. Will you come with us without resistance ? I don't want to hurt you."

"Hands in the air." she replied, pointing her gun at him, ignoring the urge to hug him. “Don’t move, my colleagues are coming.”

"I admire your sense of duty and honor, Habibi. But I will not return to prison, ever again. And I will not leave you either. I thought of you every day. Is your neck healed ? I need to repair my wrongs to you.”

“I said, put your hands in the air.”

“So you leave us no choice, Habibi.” he sighed, looking behind her.

We. He said we, and someone gave him her name. Y/N reacted too late, one man grabbing her gun, and the other not holding her shoulder, injecting something into her neck with a syringe.

In an instant, she found herself on the ground, her vision blurring, but her body not panicking, as it was invaded by an incredible sensation. Bane had reached out to hug her, his eyes smiling as he ran a hand over her cheek.

"It's okay. I'm taking you home, rafiq alruwh."

All her life, Y/N had waited for this moment, this feeling, this sentence. She told herself that the stories we said to children were really stupid, as her eyes closed.