#Sleep Mask Industry

[dicketysplit]

day 2 of the move!!!!! my body gave out on me at like 3-4pm yesterday and my 69 year old mother and 78 year old father were fucking supreme for not letting me exert myself and doing all of the cleaning and heavy lifting themselves

[temperanceofsleep]

ego death

[kate-apologist]

.

[entitled-fangirl]

The trail.

Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Bruce has to make sure, once and for all, that the man under that red mask is his son. There was one trail, leading right to a girl- the crime lord's girlfriend.

A/n: I JUST watched Under the Red Hood so I had to!

Masterlist

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Jason Todd is Red Hood.

Bruce's heart sank at the results on his computer. The blood was a complete match.

The guilt of the event five years ago flashed through his mind like a montage. The explosion. The blood. Jason's body in his arms.

So how…?

He had to move forward. 

This crook—his son—was becoming the biggest crime lord in Gotham, and he had let it happen.

He spent the next few days never away from the Bat Cave. He missed meetings at Wayne Industries. Called off dates. Anything that wasn't in the Cave in front of this computer. He didn't eat. Didn't sleep.

Until finally a trail appeared.

Just one.

An address.

…

He had sent Nightwing out in his place for the night to attempt to catch Red Hood.

It gave him time to follow this clue.

He dropped onto the fire escape of the address. By the looks of it through the window, it was a little apartment.

The window was locked. He craned his neck to see what the holdup was. Usually, he could break through the cheap locks these landlords put on them. But this one was bought by the renter and installed themselves. Smart kid.

But Bruce had built a gadget just for this. He placed it on the window and soon, he could open it with ease.

Was this breaking and entering? Perhaps. But for Jason- this law didn't feel so awful breaking. He'd do anything for him.

It was dark. Hard to see without a light on, but he couldn't move anything or Jason would know he was here when he got back.

He walked carefully through the living room. No pictures. No glaringly obvious decor of who lived here. Another wise choice on the kid's part.

That tile looked like it would creak. He avoided it.

He needed something. Anything. He need confirmation that his boy was still alive. Because that criminal was not his Jason.

Opening the bedroom door is risky. Jason might catch it later, but if Bruce is careful, he can adjust it back before he leaves. He braves it and twists the handle, opening the door so slowly it was hard to tell it was opening.

"Shit," he breathed.

In the bed laid a young woman. She was fast asleep, hair tousled against the pillow, clad in an oversized shirt and judging by the way her bare leg poked out from the heavy blanket- not much else.

It felt wrong, standing in the doorway like a creep.

He knew then that he couldn't stay any longer. He had to go. He had to go now.

He breathed out and did one final check, reaching out to the empty side of the bed.

Still fucking warm.

Dick had only made contact with Red Hood ten minutes ago.

He closed his eyes and forced a long, silent breath. Then he retreated his steps, careful to cover each one.

Hard to say if Bruce had found what he was looking for.

…

"Morning, sleepy girl," Jason mused as he sat on the bed. 

Y/n groaned and stretched, turning to the other side to avoid Jason's attempt to wake her.

He chuckled and grabbed her hips, pulling her down the bed to him. "C'mere. Gotta get up."

She groaned again, fighting against him with little effort. 

He picked her up off of the bed and into his lap, laughing again as she all but melted into a puddle against his chest. Her head tucked into his neck and there was no doubt she'd attempt to sleep again.

"Wait, baby," he tried. "I'll let ya sleep soon. Just need you up for a minute."

With his hands rubbed the sides of her hips and waist soothingly, she was slowly roused awake. Her eyes opened. "Jase… still dark outside-"

"I know," he cooed. "I know it is. Just need to check on you."

"'M fine," she drew out in a sleepy tone.

"Look at me. Let me see you."

With his gentle manhandling, she was pulled away just enough for him to look over. He looked over every inch of her in the dark. When he finally felt satisfied, he drew her back to him. "D'you get up in the night?"

She hummed a sleepy no which worried Jason more. "At all? Really think. I need you to be sure."

She rubbed her face against his shoulder. "I said I didn't."

He heaved a long sigh. "Didn't even wake up for a little bit while I was out?"

"What's wrong, Jase? You sound worried."

"'S nothing. Let's go back to bed, huh?" He laid her back down, laying beside her. She eventually cuddled into his side and fell asleep.

But Jason stayed awake.

…

The next evening, Batman stood outside of the apartment's door.

Once again, Red Hood was out and Nightwing on his tail. 

This would be Bruce's last chance.

Y/n sat on the couch, reading up on a newspaper. She always begged Jason to get the Gotham Gazette while he was out. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She froze.

Never, under any circumstances, answer that door, Jason had said. 

The door was locked. Surely that would keep whoever it was at bay.

Bruce wiggled the door and sighed. He hated doing this.

Jason had sworn before he left that he'd get better door and window locks, refusing to tell his girlfriend why they needed them.

With a simple skeleton key, he managed the door open. He stood there in the doorway- the Batman.

She stood up, newspaper abandoned on the table, her terrified eyes set on the intruder.

She knew about the Batman. She knew what Jason had said about him. She knew everything.

And she was frozen.

Batman stepped in with his hands up in an attempt to ease her mind. "You'll have to excuse the entrance. Need to be a little smarter on the locks, huh?" It was an attempted joke, albeit, a poor one.

She slowly bent at the knees, fingers grasping at the gun under the coffee table. She hurriedly aimed it at him, a scared look in her eyes. "You-You need to leave," she stuttered. "He'll gut you if he finds you here."

"So you admit he comes here?"

Damn it. She didn't mean to do that.

"I knew he did. Just need to ask you some questions. Just some honest information."

When he took a step closer, her hand holding the gun shook more. "Don't!" 

"I'm not going to hurt you, alright?" He tried to ease. He held a hand out. "Why don't you give me that."

She shook her head, adjusting her grip on it.

Bruce sighed and disarmed her without much of an effort. He managed to tear it from her hand, holding the other wrist in a tight grip. "Let's sit down," he spoke, void of emotion.

He gently forced her to sit on the couch. And once settled, he respectfully moved to the armchair next to it.

Jason's chair.

"Y/n, isn't it?" He asked.

"Bruce, isn't it?" She asked back.

Oh. So she knows.

He sighed and pulled down his cowl. "So he's told you everything, I'm assuming?"

"W-Who?" She played dumb. She was going against everything Jason said to do. 

"Always just tell them what they want," he had urged one night when he opened up about his past to her. "If ever," he spoke, cupping her cheeks. "If it ever comes to something like that, tell them whatever they want. I won't have you hurt on my account. Got it?"

"Y/n," Batman sighed. "Jason and I are not enemies. You and I aren't either."

"Don't believe you," she muttered.

"Jason is my son," he growled. The anger had finally risen in his chest and he had to force it back down. "Sorry." He rubbed his forehead. "I want to wring his neck and then take him back home and give him whatever he wants. It's just... it's complicated."

She watched the seemingly all put together Batman fall apart so easily in her living room. 

"You're a nice girl," he pointed out. "Surely Jason is still the boy that he was before. In some ways. I just… I came because…"

"Because he won't open up to you and you're hoping I will."

"Something like that."

Silence settled over them.

"Jason is kind," she finally said. "And Just. Noble. He always does the right thing-"

Bruce scoffed mockingly at that.

She frowned. "If you're going to mock me, then I can stay silent."

He shook his head with a sigh. "I'm sorry. Go on. Please."

She thought for a while. "He said something about… chemicals. Like… chemical vats but there was a name he used-"

"-Lazarus Pit?" He immediately questioned. His interest was peaked.

"Yeah. He didn't explain what it was but it raised him from the dead. I'm not a scientist or anything so I don't understand that kind of stuff."

"Did he mention Ra al Ghul by any chance?"

"Think so. Yeah."

"This is extremely helpful. You have no idea."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I'm not gonna give you his plans for anything- if that's really what you came here for. He doesn't tell me that kind of stuff."

"Well, I'm not. Glad to know he's cautious. You need a better door lock, though."

"And a better window one as well, huh?" When Bruce flushed, she grinned. "Jason isn't dumb, you know. He had a suspicion when he got home. Just like he'll know you were here just now."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. I have the information I need. Thank you." He stood and pulled his cowl back on, walking towards the door.

"Batman!" She urged. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "Bruce. Whatever all this is, please don't hurt him. I don't think I could live with myself if something happened."

"Neither could I. I've failed him enough. I won't do it again," he promised. He turned to leave, then paused. He dug something out of his belt and turned back to her. "Here."

She stepped to his side and took the thing in his hand.

Jason's Robin mask.

"I have to know one more thing." He hesitated to ask but knew he needed to. "Is he… safe? Happy?"

She held the mask to her chest. There was a comfort between the two. How Jason held them together and yet never more far apart. "He smiles. And laughs... sometimes."

"Good, good. You're good for him."

The door shut and silence filled the apartment as she was left alone one again.

Now on the coffee table laid the day's newspaper titled, 'Red Hood: Friend or Foe?' And on top was Jason's old mask.

She had a feeling this was just the first of many encounters with Batman.

.............................................................

[naburi]

LET’S CLEAN UP

KARINA X READER

TAGS: GYM, EXHIBITIONISM, TEASING, MASTURBATION

1.5K WORDS

Long pitch black hair, white pale skin, dangerous curves that can lead you to hell, soft body that feels like heaven. You have been a member of this gym for 3 months now, you heard different rumors about how fine this young woman is, you don’t believe the rumor until you’re looking at her eye to eye alone in the gym.

She’s always wearing a mask, sometimes adding a cap, and wears baggy clothes to conceal her seductive parts but how long can someone hide their busty mounds, they lightly bounces in her every walk, her big front always revealing itself no matter her clothes. They said she’s trying to not attract any unwanted attention but her body does the opposite. That busty body takes all the eyes in every vicinity it occupies, they said when she’s around, men only do two things, they either try to keep their glances discreet or they try to lie to themselves that they are not distraught by how one woman can be that sexy. For everyone, her body is the perfect distraction.

She’s a former trainee who gave up on her dreams due to how dark the K-pop world is. They hear rumors about how small companies tried to take “advantage” of her while big companies tried to make her “audition” with a promise of debuting with their girl groups. Some say she’s too sexy for K-pop, that her body is made to be seen in a different “industry.” These rumors pique curiosity in all the minds of the gym members. They all wanted to see if there’s any truth to these rumors, regular gym members said they saw her during office hours, some say they saw her late at night, it seems like she’s actively avoiding crowded hours in the gym. Some say that these stories about this woman are just a hoax to attract more people to go to this gym. You believe the latter because if she’s real, she should be famous or trending in this social media world we live in.

Tired eyes but can’t seem to find sleep, it’s 3 am but your body feels more awake than ever, you decided to tire your body to sleep and hit the gym real quick. Driving on, you expect to see at least a few people in these early hours. When you arrived at almost 4 am, you saw a few cars in the parking lot. Sliding your card and entering the exclusive 24 hours gym, only background gym songs are the only thing that welcomes you. You walk around to see if there’s any people with you. It seems like you have the gym by yourself which actually excites you. You rush happily to the locker room to bring down your things, suddenly you hear the automatic doors open. You humorously get annoyed by the fact that you can’t enjoy the gym by yourself now, until you see the silhouette of who shares the gym with you.

Long pitch black hair, white pale skin, wears a face mask and baggy clothes that forms around a busty body. This is the first time you have seen this person, the sudden realization hits you. The rumors, the rumors about a woman, a woman who is now in front of your eyes. You're trying to keep your glances discreet because you don’t want her to creep out by you. Both of you doing some stretching at the same time, you're a few feet away from her, you saw yourself looking at their reflection through the big gym mirrors, which she quickly noticed. You got embarrassed how she caught you looking at her. After you both finish stretching up, you move to the dumbbell rack to lift some light weight first, she moves to the treadmills to do some light cardio first. She started to walk and you noticed the light bounces of her mounds, the mirror in front of her only gives you a better look of those bounces. You’re trying to do your workout but this woman is too sexy to keep lying to yourself so that you are not distracted. After doing some dumbbell raises, the only thing you can do is to stare at her, it seems like your body is more honest than you.

She’s now doing light jogging, those mounds are bouncing even more. She’s wearing a large white shirt trying to cover her large mounds, her bottocks are also forming out of her large shirt with every jog she takes. Your eyes are glued to every curve of her, it takes you a minute to realize that she’s also looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. Your stares can’t hide their intentions, you want to see more of this woman, there’s a lot on your mind and none of them are morally right. You want to see more of her which excites her. She’s finally done with her treadmill warm which feels like an endless runway walk. You saw her smirk after turning around to move to the barbel rack. Looking at you to make sure she still has your attention, she removes her white shirt showing a gray tight shirt which reveals boobs that are made to be sinned. How those boobs shape, how they paired perfectly to her lustful body is what makes it Dangerous.

You're still stuck at your seat, still can’t believe what you’re witnessing. She’s now positioning herself to do RDLs, her ass infront of you, she leaning forward showing how those massive boobs are hanging down to her slim body. As you rise up, while torso is going down, your getting overwhelmed by the doggy positions filling your head, this distraught shows in your face which she happily saw, each movement she did feels more sluttier than the early ones, its seems like your in a trance with how her body moves. She moves inside the barbell rack, positioning to a barbell squats. Putting the bar on her back, she moves her butt straight down, stretching her black pants to conform to her busty ass, the thought riding you while slamming that ass to your dick. Made you caress your dick over your tight shorts, you didn’t care is she saw you touching your hard dick, her body made you unable to think properly, seeing her face in the reflection, you saw her give a head nod, you know what she was signaling to go on, but you don’t want to be wrong. Her seeing you hesitate made her look dissatisfied, this pushed you to rushly touch your dick again, she gave you a nod again, she’s now waiting at what you're about to do. You put your hands in your shorts to rub it. This made her smile for a while but she stares at you trying to indicate something. She wants you to let her see how you can’t control yourself around her.

You move down your shorts which made your dick sprung out in hardness, she put the bar on the rack, now she’s the one watching you. You move your hand from up to down slowly, letting her see how hard she made you feel. She gives a signal again, she wants you to let it out how horny she made you feel. You start to beat your hard dick while keeping your eye contact with her. She’s also getting hot from the scene she’s looking at, she starts to touch those busty boobs over her tight shirts. She put two hands on the side of her boobs squishing both of her inwards, she put her hands under her boobs pulling the massive pair upward to give you a better perspective how big they really are. This makes you hornier, you want to stand up to touch them yourself but she stops you with a threatening glare. She’s setting boundaries you can’t cross or else she will stop the session. You sit down again which she rewards you for. She pulls her shirt up to reveal a sweaty sports bra that keeps the seductive boobs to show its true beauty.

She pulls down her bra revealing a glistening massive boobs, it’s more than you can imagine, the sweat which looks like oil made her boobs more erotic, how her boobs have the roundest of shape, how her boobs might be the best pair of tits you ever laid eyes on. She's looking straight at you while making a circular motion touching her erect nipples. The sight of you beating your dick harder made her play with her nipples more and starting to pinch them, her erotic face while she’s touching her boobs made your body even hotter. She sits down at a nearby gym bench, resting her back, groping one of her tits while inserting one into her mouth, she’s sucking and licking her tits like she’s craving for it. One of her hands is touching herself over her pants. How her slim fingers made her boobs that much massive, her body sweating due to how hot she feels, how heavy she breathes as she’s having the highest of her libido. This sight of a woman touching herself made you have the best climax you ever had. You sprut it all over the gym mat, some still flowing out of your dick. Your head rests back on the bench, you're sitting and letting your high go.

“Let’s clean up”, are the first words you heard from her.

[inupibaldspot]

I don’t want to hide it!

Pairing : actor!Gojo x actor!Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Both you and Gojo are in the entertainment industry and one unspoken rule and maybe somewhere in the contract is that you can never reveal you are in a relationship | artcredit

You breathe out as you look out at the dark starry night, a haze comes into vision indicating how cold it actually was.

There was a buzz in your pocket making you reach into your jacket pocket and smile when the name popped up.

Satoru <3

I’m here,baby. 2:47am

Just then a dark car with also dark tinted glasses drives through and parks near you were standing. You quicken your footsteps as you wave at him. “Don’t come outside.”

“Sorry.” Of course he doesn’t listen. “What did you say?” Gojo steps out of his car as he quicken his steps to you; he was dressed in black from head to toe, with a hat trying to hide his hair and a mask to hide his face. Just like you.

You both were always public’s eyes afterall. Gojo was a singer turned actor who was probably in him prime. You were also an actress,about three years into debut yet you had a huge impactful movies under your name.

Gojo’s hands go over to the door handle of the car and opens it for you, his other hand wraps it to your back as he holds you in. His masked lips places a kiss on your forehead. “You look so divine, babe.”

You laugh. “Even though I’m covered like this.” You bring your hands up where you then place your chin on your hand.

“Of course.” Gojo nuzzles closer. “I can recognize that fat ass anywhere.”

“Gojo!” You shriek out, as you puff at Gojo’s words. The man laughs as he pull away when you are sat in place and closes the car door. He then walks over and sat on the drivers seat.

As soon as his butt hits the car seat, his first reaction is to pull down his mask as he leans into you and places a kiss on your lips, your mask pulled down by his left hand. Your heart takes a leap and you press your lips to his. Instantly, Gojo cradles your face, refusing to separate from you.

Gojo doesn't stop, sensuously kissing every available surface of your lips until he's tired of waiting to kiss your lips once more. You give in and let yourself fall until the point of no return - even if Gojo was the devil incarnate, you would gladly hand over your soul for an eternity of his love.

Building up every once of strength in you, you hold onto his jacket and pull away from the kiss. You blush when Gojo looks at you, face smeared with lipstick. “We shouldn’t stay here for long. We could get caught!”

Gojo growls as his feet place on the clutch and break before driving with the gears in place. “I don’t get why we have to hide it. Our contract has nothing restricting us.”

You sigh. “You know we don’t know how the public will react…” 

Gojo said eyes at you and sees that your eyes were lowered and you were nervously playing with your own fingers. Shit…he made you feel bad.

He forces a smile and places one of his hands on your thigh making you look up at him. “So princess, are you gonna tell me what you’ve been doing today.” He asks.

You smile, the tense air finally dissipates. “I had to shoot an ad at 6am and then a 13 hour shoot in the woods for my new movie.”

“Shit babe.” He says concerned, both his hands on the steering wheel as he makes a turn and parks the car. They were in a secluded area by the river side. “You sure you don’t need to sleep?”

You shake your head as you place one of your hands on Gojo’s face, lips curled into a small. “I want to spend my time with you. Besides, I was taking cat naps in between sets.”

“So what were you doing,my prince?“ Gojo smiles at your words.

“I was watching the avatar the whole day.”

You laugh “yeah?”

“Oh—that’s right!” You clap your hands together as you look at him. “Tomorrow we are scheduled to emcee at that music show.”

“I think I did hear something like that from Ijichi.” Gojo taps his temple when his finger as he remembers his manager in tears begging him to listen. “But I didn’t know we were partners.”

“Satoru…you have to be careful on stage.” You peer in close to him face, eyes begging him to listen. “Don’t be obvious.”

Gojo leans in quick as he pecks your lips making you blush in surprise. “Fine. What ever you say, princess.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next day,you nervously bite the inside of your cheeks as music blasts in the background; all eyes were focused on the idol group performing right now. Beside you,stands tall Gojo Satoru who has a glow near him as he mentally gushing on how adorable you looked, all dolled up and ready for the camera—so pretty.

Ijichi nervously bits his thumbs,all nervously. The company including him knew about Gojo’s relationship with you, at first the company tried to threaten him to break up with you but then Gojo threatened them back with termination of contract. The company can’t afford to lose their main money maker! So they decide to let the relationship stand but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t beg and pay every paparazzi to not release any pictures.

With every look and smile Gojo gave to you Ijichi’s job was on the line.

Suddenly a different type of music was playing making all idols make way toward you and Gojo; an interview session were to take place.

“Welcome back—!” You smile at the camera then at the ground where the members smiled and bowed back. So pretty.

“Oh my!” You smile cheerfully at the idols who await your expression. So pretty.

“That was such a show! The performance struck right through our hearts!” You smile and look at him, his blue eyes into your. Gojo almost can’t breathe. So pretty.

“Right Gojo-san?” So pretty.

Your beautiful face contours slightly as he takes on a worried expression. “Right Gojo-san!” Oh—right… He was Gojo.

You gulp hard as you quickly look to the idols, “it seems as if Gojo-san is still in awe from your performance.” making the audience laugh. From then on Gojo tried to act normal—he really did! But every time you speak, he is giddy with emotions.

Somewhere in between nervous laughs and in this case, chewing on his nails; a man rushes to him. Breathing heavy as he places a hand on Ijichi’s shoulder. “We’re fucked…”

Ijichi gulps.

The man who came up to him, one of Gojo’s managers lift up his phone where what is written on the screen.

[⭐️EXCLUSIVE] Actor Gojo Satoru and y/n on a date!

There were pictures of you, who was slightly unrecognizable from all the cover up of clothes but there was a mole on your body with could be traced back to you.

There was another picture where Gojo comes out of the car, this one surely couldn’t pass. There was a peak of his white hair slipping through hat, and his blue eyes ever so recognizable. The freaking paparazzi even routed how Gojo’s car went from his residence to yours at such odd hours!

And finally the nail in the coffin where he takes you home hands by your waist, with you nuzzled into his jacket waddling forward with a peak of lipstick smeared on his face. A lipstick shade you’ve been always seen wearing during casual days!!

Ijichi grabs his hair before his phones buzzes…an endless buzz which will probably cost him his job.

Now the audience seemed to buzz, showing each other this exclusive new of the people who are literally right infront of them. How entertaining! The mass now seemed to take various pictures in real life by the audience and others screenshoting the music show you guys were emceeing, all obviously trying your best.

Then another posts starts posting on all the gossip post with Twitter having a field day with it in particular.

[⭐️Hot!] Gojo Satoru can’t really seem to get enough of y/n! Hahahaha

The post contains pictures of Gojo staring lovingly at you when you were emceeing, when you laugh he laughs, when you smile he blushes.

The comments under the post was entertaining though.

User128

What ever he is being accused of, he is guilty.

Bbystru

Ahhh—he is definitely a shojo male lead

User827

The company doesn’t even need to say anything! The proof is infront of our eyes.

Luvie28

Wow! Gojo is so funny! y/n is working so hark to make up for it.

The company of Gojo fell into despair because at how the stocks where falling for the company, they were mildly surprised and extremely pleased when the stocks went flying up and up— because after the pictures went viral; it seemed even overseas, there were a whole new audience now interested in their love sick actor!

Mean while Gojo was simply happy he didn’t have to hide their relationship, no more stuffy dates all covered up, no more keeping 100m distance from you in public places and no more hiding your lipstick stain over his lips and peppered all over his neck, to his chest and maybe even lower.

Who knows maybe he even show up on the red carpet like that one day.

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here

[lululandd]

asleep;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 378

warning: fluff

note: never played the game. dont know jack shit. i just have tall people wearing masks kink.

summary: your housemate ghost fell asleep on the sofa with paint on his face and you help.

You went home to silent snoring coming from the sofa. It was your 6’3 housemate Simon Riley, curled up against his duffel bag, recently arrived home from whatever job he has.

Sometimes he’d be missing for weeks, sometimes months, and one time it was a year and a half. Three months into that year and a half absence, an extremely handsome man came knocking on your front door and hands you an envelope full of cash, saying “He said this is for rent.” before just walking away.

The man was full of mysteries, telling you funny stories about his unnamed friends when he got tipsy, having random knives on him when you needed something to be cut, scoffing at the TV when they have bad trigger discipline in movies and tv shows.

But at this very moment, he looks like an ordinary man. An ordinary man with ordinary black paint around his eyes. You know, normal people stuff.

You went upstairs and quickly grabbed your makeup remover, cottonballs, and a couple cotton swabs. You debated whether micellar water would be better, but whatever it is around his eyes seemed industrial strength.

It was a miracle that he didn’t wake up at all. Only swatting your hands away once or twice, muttering “Fuck off, Soap.”

Admiring your clean and stealthy work, you smiled to yourself and wonder what else you can get away with while he’s knocked the fuck out on the couch.

You brought down your whole tray of face products. It’s a sin to skip washing his face entirely, but you feel this is the micellar water’s turn to shine. So you start there.

—

You got startled awake the next day, someone had shoved you in your sleep. The first thing you saw was Simon Riley looming over your bed, his large body preventing sunlight from hitting your face and your whole upperbody.

“Why the fuck does my face feel nice.”

What.

Blinking sleep away from your eyes for a couple seconds as you stared at his face, you can tell he was miffed. But there’s also something else there that you can’t place.

“If it feels nice then why did you wake me up?” You squinted at him.

“Because I want it to keep feeling nice.”

[0cta9on]

https://video.twimg.com/amplify_video/1744333798341558272/vid/avc1/720x968/5FWrOIbGZIm_AKST.mp4

Can we get a kinda fluffy mile high Winter smut while you're in the air pretty please!

I love it when girls do the nose scrunch thing, it's so cute and Winter is no exception :))) This is unedited btw but I hope you like it regardless!!

“Oppa… Manager oppa…”

You feel Winter gently nudge your shoulder while you’re trying to sleep. Annoyed, your eyelids creep open, glaring back at her.

“What is it, Winter?”

After SM assigned you to manage their newly debuted girl group four years ago, you figured it would be an easy job, and at first, it was. Rookie Aespa was fairly easy to handle. They were all pretty timid at first, and you were more than welcome to help them navigate the treacherous idol industry. However, once the girls got used to you being around, they immediately turned into little monsters. Always running around and screaming, it was less a manager job and more a babysitting job at this point. You were constantly exhausted, even more so now that their skyrocket to fame meant constant overseas schedules.

“Oppa~” Winter groans cutely, trying to ease the tension. “I need… help.”

“Help with what? Just ask the flight attendant.” You turn your body away from her and shut your eyes. She vigorously nudges your shoulder, the sensation not unlike a cat pawing you to get your attention.

“I need a different kind of help,” she whispers, a lilt of a smirk in her voice. The tickle of her breath against your ear is enough to fully wake you up. Without another word, you grab Winter’s hand and take her to the nearest lavatory, the petite girl struggling to hide her excitement amongst all the sleeping passengers. One of the benefits of working with Aespa is that their sexual appetites are insatiable. Even Karina, who recently snagged herself a pretty successful boyfriend, still asks you to fuck her in the hotel after overseas schedules.

After ensuring that the coast is clear, the two of you sneak into the cramped airplane restroom. She pushes you against the toilet and straddles your lap. Even with no makeup on and a mask covering half her face, you still think she’s the prettiest girl in Aespa.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You say, smiling up at her. Winter giggles, scrunching her nose at you.

“Are you just saying that to get into my pants?” She teases,” Because it’s working.” She tosses the mask away and gently smashes her lips against yours. Even at her horniest, Winter’s movements are always so soft. It’s what you like most about her. Unlike the other girls, who prefer rough, senseless fucking, Winter enjoys taking her time and ensuring both of you enjoy the experience of lovemaking.

The taste of her cherry chapstick fills your mouth - her signature flavor. Your hands wrap around her petite waist as she begins to grind her hips against your crotch, moaning into your mouth. The chorus of whimpers is music to your ears. As much as you would love to stay in this position forever, you couldn’t risk getting caught in here. With a quick zip, you discard her bulky jacket that hid the real treasure underneath.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” you say. Her cheeks turn a princess shade of pink from the mere sound of a pet name. Pet names are Winter’s biggest weakness - baby, honey, love, the simple utterance of a single word will make her melt into your hands.

“Oppa~” she giggles, biting her lip. Like a switch flipped on in her head, her body reacts to the word immediately by grinding harder on your crotch, your cock begging to be broken free.

You gently take her off your lap and unzip your pants while Winter watches you excitedly.

“You like it, baby?” You smirk as you rub your length in front of her eyes. Without a word, she lowers her leggings and plants her hands against the wall, presenting her plump ass towards you.

“Please, oppa~” She begs cutely. “I wanna feel your thick cock inside me.” Her eyes watch intently as move her damp panties to the side to expose her dripping honey pot. You lubricate your length with her juices, enjoying the way Winter’s face twitches as you tease her entrance. Finally, you firmly grab her hips and slowly impale her onto your cock. Her mouth forms an “O” as struggles to keep herself from moaning.

“O-oh my god… Y-yes…” She whispers, her breath shivering. Each thrust is slow, but deep, savoring the grasp of her velvet walls around your member. No matter how many times you fuck her, each time is always better than the last. Your fingers sink into her soft flesh as pure bliss takes over your body.

“I love your pussy, baby,” you whisper sweetly into her ear. “Out of all the girls, yours is my favorite.”

“R-really?!” Her eyes light up at the compliment, inadvertently increasing the grip of her walls around your cock. A groan escapes your lips as you thrust harder and faster into her wetness, forcing you to cover her mouth to keep her from moaning too loudly.

“Of course, baby. Fuck, I love you so much Winter.” The sudden confession sends the idol into a lustful spiral. She bucks her hips backwards, meeting your every thrust, while she sucks your fingers like a pacifier. You prepare to pull out as the pressure in your loins begins to build towards your climax.

“Winter, I’m about to cu-”

“Cum in me, oppa!” She exclaims way too loudly. “I want you to fill me up! My pussy is yours to claim!” Your mind is too far gone to give a damn about the consequences. With one final thrust, you slam your entire length down her pussy, shooting your cum as far down into her as you possibly can. Winter reaches climax at the same time, her juices leaking out of her full pussy and onto her thighs. That single moment is the closest you’ll ever be to Heaven, both mentally and physically.

Your body nearly crashes against the other side of the restroom as you pull out. Winter catches the combination of your fluids leaking from her pussy and brings it to her tongue, swirling it in her mouth.

“Tasty,” she comments, winking at you. Once both of you catch your breaths, you peek outside the restroom only to be met with some scrawny looking boy who gives you a knowing smirk. Sighing, you rummage through your wallet and slap a $100 bill in his hand.

“You heard nothing,” you say to him before grabbing Winter’s hand and leading her back to your seats.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ your biggest fan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!jaehyun x popstar!reader

summary: in which the world discovers your relationship with Jaehyun and surprisingly… they love it

(cw: f!reader, descriptions of sasaengs and receiving hate)

a/n: bonus ig posts at the end

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You weren't exactly sure how you and Jaehyun became a couple, that was his area of expertise, not yours. All you remembered was meeting him in 2019 at the iHeartRadio Jingle Ball and from there a relationship blossomed at some point.

It was hard on the both of you, you were both so busy. He was busy pumping out music every year, always working. If he wasn't touring, he was recording, promoting, learning a new dance, or working on the next step. The life of a Kpop idol was vastly different from the fame you knew as a western artist. You had breaks between albums, a few singles here and there, but your tours lasted so much longer.

It was a reality you were used to though. You came into the limelight as a teenager, building a deeply dedicated fan base that grew in size and grew up with you. A fanbase that grew from your hometown to spanning various continents. Your success and fame had grown far beyond what you had ever imagined when you first signed on to create your first record. This life was everything you dreamed of and more, even if the reality was less... perfect than you thought it would be.

Having been in this industry for as long as you had been, a romantic relationship wasn't at the forefront of your list. There were a few here and there, kept under wraps, but they could never understand the demands of your job. When Jaehyun came in, he turned your world upside down. He was a breath of fresh air and inspired you more than anyone ever had.

It had been 3 years of dating now. You were head over heels in love and so was he. The time differences, the constant missed calls, and dates in the cover of darkness hadn't diminished any of the love you had for each other.

These past few weeks had been lucky, you were in your Asian leg of your tour and Jaehyun had been able to join you for the last week of your tour which was starting with a few nights in Seoul and ending in Japan. It was the night before your concert, definitely past midnight, but you and Jaehyun were hungry. You were both dressed "in disguise" with masks on, hats covering your heads, and baggier clothes.

It really was a mistake on both your ends to think that there would be no one watching. Sure, the traditional paparazzi wasn't really a thing here, but there were other people with cameras. People who were too dedicated and a... different kind of fan that you and Jaehyun were unfortunately familiar with. These people knew where you were staying and would take any opportunity to catch a picture. And that’s what happened.

You both entered a convenience store and you pulled off your hat to fix your hair which left your face more visible to the cameras taking pictures. A few minutes later Jaehyun lowered his mask to take a drink from his cup and from there your relationship was revealed and spiraled out of control.

Fans were making connections, some far reaching and others that were legitimate. In your short, 20 minute trip down the block both you and Jaehyun were trending. You didn’t even know it was all happening until the morning after when your assistant walked into your hotel room with her phone in her hand that was quickly pushed in front of your face.

You scrolled through hundreds of tweets, replies, quote tweets, various hashtags.

Your voice was tired and deep from sleep, “what is happening?”

“Fans caught you two in the convenience store last night and uploaded the picture. Jaehyun our team have been in touch with your management and we’ve agreed to each put out a statement confirming the relationship. I know this isn’t what either of you had planned, but you were lucky for a good few years,” your assistant explained with a soft smile.

Jaehyun turned to you with a nervous expression, “I’m sorry this happened. Just ignore all the negative comments and focus on the good, okay? I love you and this won’t change anything.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no negatives. Well sure, haters are everywhere but 99% of the posts, comments, reactions, everything really- is positive. You’re both international stars with very dedicated fan bases that have some intersection. Seriously, look for yourself,” your assistant hands her phone to Jaehyun. “People want duets, joint tours, they want interviews together. Seriously, it’s crazy!”

You laugh I shock, looking over Jaehyun’s shoulder to read all the feedback and comments from your fans.

“We have to improve your Korean, baby. They want you to collaborate with NCT,” Jaehyun laughs.

“You told me my Korean was good!” You exclaim with a soft hit to his arm.

“It is! But we can practice more for a whole album full of duets,” he replies with a soft laugh.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” you laugh in reply.

That night at your concert, the arena full of fans erupts in cheers so loud you can hear it through your ear pieces when Jaehyun is shown on the screen. “My boyfriend is here tonight! And we can all thank him for my amazing Korean! Before we start the next song, which is about him, how do we all feel about an extra show here?”

The screams get even louder and you look at Jaehyun with a bright smile. He sends you a finger heart and you send a kiss right back in his direction. This was everything you’d dreamt of.

+ BONUS

yourusername

liked by _jeongjaehyun, zendaya, and others

yoursusername in case you somehow managed to miss the news, here’s the confirmation! my inspiration, my muse, my biggest fan, my love, nobody gets me like you do. I’m so lucky to live this life with someone who gets me better than anyone else. i love you foreverrrrrr

comments on this post have been limited

_jeongjaehyun

liked by yourusername, bumkeyk, and others

_jeongjaehyun Sometimes I still can’t believe it myself. I’ve learned so much from you and continue to learn something new everyday. I’m my best self around you. I love you baby, I’m your biggest fan

comments on this post have been limited

[stararch4ngelqueen]

hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”

I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.

—

Time written - 10:10 a.m

—

You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.

“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.

“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”

You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”

To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.

“Trade you a milkshake for that.”

It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?

“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.

“Seems fair.”

“And the place it’s bought from.”

“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.

“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”

“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”

It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.

He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.

Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.

Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.

All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.

What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.

“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.

What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.

“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.

“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.

All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.

“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.

“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.

Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.

He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.

“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”

His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.

“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.

Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.

“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”

Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.

“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You just needed to say yes.

You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.

“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”

“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”

“Then where is it?”

Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”

“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.

“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“

You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.

You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.

“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”

In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.

Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.

“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”

Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.

[betweenstorms]

Alright, hear me out, Simon Riley working for Sleep Token as their head of security.

Let me explain.

His life had always been defined by precision and control, by the kind of discipline that didn’t falter in the face of chaos. But retirement had come swiftly and unceremoniously, a necessity more than a choice. The regimented life of the SAS had ended, leaving him adrift in the civilian world, and that felt far more alien than any hostile territory he’d ever set foot in.

Somehow he found himself in the chaotic underbelly of the entertainment industry, a space filled with the metallic clatter of stagehands, the distant roar of soundchecks, and the pulse of a metal band steadily climbing the ladder to global fucking acclaim. And hell, the stage lights, the screaming crowds, the thrum of bass reverberating through his chest, none of it had ever factored into the life he’d imagined for himself.

But life had a funny way of taking plans and shredding them into something unrecognisable.

Simon still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here.

When he left the military he thought he’d bury himself in some quiet corner of anonymity, far from the public eye. Civvy life was cruel to men like him, and for months, he drifted between meaningless gigs, his skill set too sharp for ordinary work, too lethal for the mundane.

Then came the call.

Sleep Token’s manager had been a contact of a contact, someone who knew someone who’d served with him, someone who’d heard about him through the strange network of ex-military types finding unconventional second careers. The irony hadn’t been lost on Simon when he was first approached. A band draped in anonymity, each member masked and named only by cryptic titles, needed security. And who better to protect them than a man who’d spent his life hiding behind his own mask?

Fucking unbelievable.

Somehow Simon had ticked every box without realising it, and before he knew it, he was standing in a smoky room, hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans as he sized up the bloody Muppet Show who would earn his salary.

He’d scoffed at the absurdity of it back then.

It wasn’t his scene. Far from it.

And yet, something in him, a combination of pragmatism and the faint flicker of intrigue, told him to give it a shot. He was financially screwed anyway. And the pay was good, much better than what he earned as a high-ranking officer, the anonymity suited him just fine, and the job, strangely enough, kind of aligned with his skill set. Therefore, after a few days of mulling it over, he said yes.

Simon had learned to adapt quickly. This job—head of security, an overqualified bodyguard as he liked to call it—had its own rhythm, distinct but no less intense than the one he’d lived before.

Venues became his battlefields, and he mapped them with a soldier’s precision. Potential threats were assessed the way he’d once scoped out enemy positions. His vigilance rarely wavered, whether he was walking the perimeter of a festival or standing stoic in a dim corridor as Vessel rehearsed another one of his verses. To Simon, these kinds of threats were laughable compared to the ones he’d faced during his service, however, it wasn’t without its challenges. Crowds could be unpredictable, and fame had a way of drawing out the unhinged.

He took to his duties with the same precision and discipline he’d honed in the SAS. The members trusted him implicitly, and that trust was something Simon didn’t take lightly. They called him Riley and treated him like a constant, the way you’d treat the sun rising or the tide coming in.

Reliable, steady, unshakable.

At first, the job was simple enough. The usual security gig, albeit with a touch of bloody theatricality. However, fame has a way of turning everything upside down, even for someone like Simon.

It started subtly.

Fans started to notice him too. At first, it was just a handful of comments on social media, like “Who’s the guy in the black balaclava?”, but it grew from there. They were fascinated by him, by the idea of a masked man guarding a masked band. He was an enigma within an enigma, and the internet just loved enigmas. It wasn’t until Lynsey Ward, one of the backup vocalists, shoved her phone in his face one day that he realised how far it had gone.

The backstage in Paris hummed with a peculiar kind of energy and anticipation that Simon had grown accustomed to since taking the job. It was a strange but one of a kind lifestyle, this one, filled with hurried footsteps, clinking equipment, and the muffled roar of soundchecks vibrating through walls. Simon lingered near the members as they cycled through their usual pre-show rituals.

IV sat in a corner, his mask tilted upward as if in contemplation, while Vessel sprawled on a battered sofa, his makeup halfway done, face a patchwork of metallic hues. II drummed his fingers idly on his thighs, the rhythmic taps almost lost beneath the din, while III sat near the makeup station, enjoying the rare moment of downtime between soundcheck, preparations and the main show, reading something on his phone.

Simon leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his black balaclava masking his expression but not the faint lines of tension in his shoulders.

His sharp eyes swept over the room, mentally running through his usual checklist again that concerned necessary security measures. Entry points, exits, personnel movements, everything was accounted for, everything secure. The monotony of the job had become second nature to him, though he still approached each night like it might unravel at any moment.

Lynsey sat nearby, waiting for her turn in the makeup chair. She was scrolling on her phone, just like almost everyone in the room, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed but her smile mischievous. Simon didn’t notice her at first, he had his priorities, but her voice cut through the quiet hum of activity like a knife.

“Riley,” she called out, her tone playful. “You’ve got to see this.”

Simon didn’t move.

“Busy,” he muttered, his voice low and even.

Lynsey ignored him entirely, already rising from her seat and crossing the room with her phone in hand. “Come on, just watch,” she insisted, shoving the screen toward him. The glow of the phone illuminated her face, her grin widening as she anticipated his reaction.

Simon sighed, an irritated, tired sound that came from somewhere deep in his chest.

“What now?”

Reluctantly, Simon uncrossed his toned arms and stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. The screen showed a video, a quick montage of him, no less. Snippets of him walking through crowds, standing by the stage, his balaclava catching the light just so as if he were a character in some fucking noir film. The background music swelled dramatically, and captions popped up over the footage, saying “If I ever get kicked out of a venue, it better be by HIM. Imagine getting manhandled by those arms.”

Simon blinked, his frown deepening beneath the mask.

“The hell’s this?” he asked, his tone flat but tinged with suspicion.

“It’s a thirst trap,” Lynsey said, as if that explained everything, her laughter barely contained.

Simon stared at her blankly. “The fuck's a thirst trap?”

Lynsey cackled, delighted. “Oh, you’re a relic, aren’t you? It’s a thing on TikTok. People post these little edits when they fancy someone. And let me tell you, mate, there are loads of these floating about. Like, ‘look at this mysterious bloke, isn’t he fit?’ That sort of thing.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “TikTok?”

From across the room, III chimed in, his grin wicked as he leaned back in his seat. “Nowhere to hide, Riley,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’re a proper celebrity now.”

Simon huffed through his nose, a sound that carried more weight than words. He glanced at the phone again, now firmly lodged in Lynsey’s outstretched hand, the screen flashing more of his edited movements cut and spliced into dramatic slow-motion. He stepped back slightly, folding his arms across his broad chest once more, muttering something about “kids and their bollocks” under his breath as he did.

Lynsey quipped, her grin only widening. “Face it, the internet’s gone mad for you. They’ve even got a hashtag—‘#SecurityDaddy.’”

Simon flinched, his head snapping back toward her like she’d just admitted to committing a war crime.

This made IV join the fray, a water bottle in hand as he ambled over. “Oi, show us the goods. I wanna see what’s got good ol’ Riley in a strop.”

Lynsey eagerly turned her phone to IV, who leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the screen with a wide grin already forming on his painted face. The video played again, the dramatic slow-motion edits of Simon walking through a crowd, his balaclava catching the stage lights as though he’d been directed by a Hollywood cinematographer.

IV let out a sharp laugh, nearly choking on his water.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a trail of black paint on them. “‘Security Daddy,’ they’re callin’ you? That’s golden.”

Lynsey snorted and held up another video. “Oh, you’ve got no idea. Look at this one, ‘If he told me to leave the venue, I’d say thank you.’ And here’s another, ‘Is it weird to want to be tackled by him?’ You’ve got your own bloody fanbase, Riley.”

Simon’s gloved hand scrubbed down his masked face as if he could physically push away the madness unfolding around him. “You lot are takin’ the piss.”

“This one’s my favourite,” Lynsey said, clicking on yet another video. The screen lit up with a heavily edited montage of Simon in action—his eyes scanning a crowd, his broad shoulders cutting through a sea of fans, the flash of his gloved hand directing someone to stand back. The video was captioned with “I don’t know his name, but he can ruin my life anytime.”

Vessel, who’d been silent for most of the exchange, finally sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded their head of security with an amused expression. “It’s the mask, mate,” he stated. “It's like catnip. People project onto what they can’t see. You could lean into it, y’know. Like us. Give the people what they want. Maybe throw in a wink next time you’re standin’ by the stage.”

Simon sent Vessel a look so sharp it could have peeled paint off the walls.

II, who had been leaning casually against the wall next to them, joined in with a huge grin. “Yeah, might as well embrace it. You’re part of the act now.”

Simon’s glare intensified. “You wanna end up wearin’ your fuckin’ drumsticks where the sun don’t shine?”

II raised his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “Don’t tempt me.” 

The banter escalated quickly after that.

The room practically buzzed with the gleeful chaos that Simon’s presence had unwittingly unleashed. IV was now scrolling through the comments on one of the fan edits, reading them aloud to the room with unbridled glee, each of them taking the piss out of him in the way only people comfortable with each other could.

Strangely enough, it reminded him of Johnny, a familiar mix of camaraderie and mischief that tugged at a memory he hadn’t expected to surface. It stirred an unexpected pang of nostalgia in Simon, a faint echo of Johnny’s effortless knack for turning every moment into a laugh at someone else’s expense—usually his.

“He could snap me like a glow stick and I’d thank him for the privilege,’” II read out loud, barely containing his laughter. “Oh, this one’s pure gold—‘Not to be dramatic, but I would sell my soul just to hear him say ‘move along’ in person.’”

That did it.

Simon unfolded from the wall with a deliberate grace, his imposing presence rippling through the room like a cold wind sweeping across still water. The breadth of his shoulders, the unyielding lines of his form clad in black, cast him less as a mere bodyguard and more as some silent, vengeful sentinel. His shadow stretched across the room, swallowing the laughter as it reached II and IV, Lynsey’s phone still clutched between them.

“You’ve had your fun,” he rumbled, his voice steeped in the kind of authority honed through years of barking orders in the SAS. “Now knock it off, before I confiscate that phone.”

“Go on, Riley,” IV shot back with a grin, entirely unafraid. “Confiscate me next.”

Simon didn’t dignify that with a response.

He turned away from them, a quiet dismissal, and walked toward the door. His hand reached for the handle, his gloved fingers brushing against the cool metal. But just as he was about to leave, a voice cut through the air again, the familiar, teasing tone of III echoing in the now-muted chaos of the room.

“Don’t forget to give us a little twirl on your way out, Security Daddy.”

Bloody hell.

If this gig didn’t kill him, these muppets just might.

betweenstorms (next) (masterlist)

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

hil, love ur writing!!

could i request a Paul Lahote x Bella's Younger Sister! Reader (Luna Swan). y'know how in new moon Jacob does this like parkour climb into Bella's room (Imao). maybe like reader is doing her night time routine to get ready for bed then hears pebbles being thrown at her window and she already knows it’s her bf paul is out there. she opens the window for him and he climbs up showing off his strength. he immediately wraps his arms around Luna’s waist and puts his head into her neck/shoulders. she reciprocates his deep hug, rubbing her hands up n down his back and shoulders (bc he shows up shirtless in true werewolf fashion😌). she asks him all coy “what are you doing here” so he just explains how he needed to see her and be with her bc ofc we all know how protective of an imprint Paul must be. it’s all cutesy then they kiss and cuddle to sleep.

btw… obsessed with ur writing🫶🏼. literally im always checking back on ur account for updates💞

Pebbles

Paul Lahote x reader

Now Playing: Ho Hey by The Lumineers

I hummed to the song on the radio as I sat at my vanity, applying creams to my skin and oils to my hair. It had been a long day; school was tiring, I had a million assignments, and work was… well, it was the service industry, so about as good as could be expected.

The sun had set already. Dad was on a hunting trip for the winter break, and Bella had taken the opportunity to stay with Edward for a few days. This left me alone in the house, but it wasn’t all that bad.

I had gotten up to dig around under my desk for a face mask, finding it and sitting back on my bottom as I read the back for instructions.

A thud made me look over towards my window. I watched for a long moment as nothing happened, until a small pebble hit the window again. I got up, making my way over to see who was there.

I peered through the glass, only to see a familiar face staring back at me. I smiled as I saw him, pushing my lacy curtains back to unlatch my window and open it.

“What are you doing?” I call coyly, laughing at Paul as he grinned up at me

“What, I can’t come see my girlfriend? Can’t make sure she’s okay after a long Monday without her?” He teased, adding, “Watch out, I’m coming up.”

I take several steps back, watching as he takes a running leap up to the ledge of my window. I watch as he shimmies his broad shoulders and long legs through the small opening, laughing as his foot gets caught in the curtain.

He scowls at me, taking long strides forward to envelop me in a hug. He presses his face into the crook of my neck, bowing his body over mine to reach, and his arms circle my waist tightly.

I sigh with content as I wrap my arms around him, one over his shoulder to take through his hair and the other around his torso to run my hand up and down his spine.

“You’re lucky Charlie isn’t here,” I murmur, “If he saw you climbing up here, he’d bust in to kick your ass, and also to give you a shirt.”

He snickers, complaining that “Shirts are restricting, and I run hot.”

“‘It’s a werewolf thing’.” I quote, smiling as I add, “I was about to put on a face mask, you want to join?”

He pulled his head back to eye me, suspicious of my proposition. I only laughed at him, pulling away and reaching for the tube of “Green Tea Detoxifying Face Mask Gel”

---

We end up cuddled together on the bed, the fan blowing towards both our faces to dry the mask.

He’s laying on his side, his hand propping his head up. His other arm is wrapped around my waist, keeping my back secured to his chest as we watch reruns of old movies.

I yawn, so comfortable that I’m almost falling asleep.

“Tired?” He asks quietly, and I shrug.

“Comfortable,” I reply, “You’re so warm, makes me want to fall asleep.”

He laughs a little, reaching up to poke my cheek, “Mask’s dry, let’s take them off.”

I groan as I roll to my feet, padding to the bathroom to peel off the mask. I do mine first, leaning over the counter and carefully taking the dry, rubbery substance off of my skin and throwing it in the trash. When I’m done, I haul myself up to sit on the counter as Paul props his arms on either side of my legs.

I take off his mask, careful of his eyebrows and the short hair on his chin and jaw.

“You didn’t shave this morning,” I comment, turning to throw the part of the mask I had gotten off into the trash.

“Ran late today, Sam dragged me to school before I could,” He replied, his eyes glued to my face, “Jared hogs the bathroom trying to fix his hair.”

I smile, peeling off the nose strip now.

“Tell him to quit sleeping with his hair wet, and he won’t have to fix it as much in the morning.”

He sighs, “I’ve tried. He’s stubborn.”

I hum, “Reminds me of someone else I know.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching my thigh and making me laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” He says sarcastically, “But the only stubborn hot-head you love is right here, letting you torture him with face masks.”

I laugh, “You know you love them!”

Again, he rolls his eyes, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips as he says, “I love you, I tolerate the masks.”

I giggle as he presses dozens of quick kisses across my face, never more grateful for life than I am in this moment.

———

Thank you so much for the request!! It was super cute and I had so much fun writing it 🥰

And I’m so glad you like my writing!! That made me so happy 😁 I really hope you enjoyed this, and lmk if you have any more requests 💕

[temperanceofsleep]

The sum of Zero.

[tightsweatyclothes]

With the crunch in the service industry worsening year on year, the government has started a new program, fitting female prisoners with AI service programs, turning them, on the surface, into elegant-looking robot assistants who carry the luggage, clean the rooms, and even in some cases, make reservations for the guests. The great advantage of these assistants is that apart from the time needed to charge up their systems, they can work at any time, constantly at the beck and call of the guests.

Breathe in, breathe out. The helmet is dark, stinking, sweaty. Except for her own laboured breath, she hears nothing. Except for the pitch black in her mask, she sees nothing. Trickles of sweat run down her forehead, her temple, her thigh, her back, but she cannot wipe them away. Itching nibbles at her privates, at her armpits, all over her torso, but she cannot scratch. Drool drips out of her gag, stains the tight mask, runs in a tickling and annoying line down to her chest, but she can neither swallow it nor wipe it away. The tight collar presses at her neck, insistent, unceasing, reminding her of what will happen if she disobeys an order, but she cannot loosen it even a little.

The AI transmits the sequence of blips and squeaks which means she must turn right, and she turns right, keeping her movements smooth, resisting every urge to tear at the thick layers imprisoning and stifling her. She walks forward, grips the handles of a push-cart, brings it to the elevator, each action a different command, a different sequence of annoying and overloud beeps and squeaks and crackles, whose meaning has been drilled into her by countless hours of torture. Her bladder presses at her, and she presses her sphincter tight, trying not to leak into the suit.

Finally, she is commanded to head back to her charging post, still unable to make a single movement out of line. Breathe in, breathe out. Try not to scream, try not to fidget, try not to claw at the heavy padded layers, try not to claw at the places where it itches and tickles. At the charging station, she presents herself with feet together and hands behind her back, whereupon she is force-fed another portion of slurry. The cable connects to her collar, locks the shackles about her wrists and ankles, and only then, with her hands shackled tightly behind her, with her ankles locked together, is she allowed to curl up in her cage to sleep.

Even her sleep is curtailed, constantly interrupted by her own full bladder, tickling sweat and drool. She bucks and strains against the shackles, screams into the gag in frustration, the only time she is allowed to struggle against her predicament. Finally she falls asleep again, but barely an hour later the AI shocks her awake, forces her to check-in a customer who has just arrived in the dead of night. She pushes down her growl of frustration, makes her way to the counter without missing a single step, where the customer only sees an elegant android who asks in a dulcet AI voice for his ID, assigns him a room and follows him along with his luggage.

[melanirana]

A Tune and a Drink

singer!reader x bartender!sun/ moon

Suprise! Have a little something. You are a singer in the 1930's and two specific bartenders have caught your eye, just like you have caught theirs.

I even have a musik recommendation for this one. Habits - Vintage 1930's cover and Levitating - 1920s style cover by PostmodernJukebox on YouTube. Check em' out they're really good.

with that said, enjoy

It’s the 1930’s, the era of glamour, fashion, parties but most of all, good music. Big cities are getting bigger, new opportunities arise on all sides, technology is advancing and you are right in the middle of it.

You are known throughout the whole city, not famous enough to be known across states but known enough that clubs and bars fight to have you sing on their stage. To have you bless their establishments with your voice and draw in the people, so these people make their bar The City Bar.

Whenever you agree to sing at their club they make it known immediately. Whether that is through the newspaper, telling their guests who tell it their acquaintances, or hanging papers around the city. 

“downright heavenly”

“the voice of an angel”

“as powerful as it’s wonderful”

“rich with a beautiful smoky undertone” they call your voice. A bit of an exaggeration you think, you can agree on the smoky undertone but the rest. It must be because you hear your voice every day, when you wake from sleep, when you talk, when you warm up, when you practice when you sing.

But other people only hear you when you sing, it isn’t often it is a special occasion, it is desired it is sought after. To them it means so much and therefore it means so much to you. To sing for people, to lighten their day, to make them happy.

There is barely ever you turn down an offer to sing, it is simply a matter of when you have time again. More often than not you don’t come back to a bar for a month or two, too busy singing somewhere else, writing, or any other reason.

So why is it, that even with such a full schedule, you always find time to come back to sing at one certain high-profile bar named Celestias. 

People wonder. Is it close to home. Do you have a deal with the bar. Does it mean something to you. Is it the celebrities that frequent this establishment. Or is it simply the wonderful view of the river that divides the city, that flows right by the building.

All good guesses, but utterly wrong.

The reason you keep returning is the bar, those how tend to it specifically. Two highly advanced Animatronics.

Metal polished like a brand new 540 K Special-Roadster, but not just a car. Highly advanced machinery capable of many things, but not an industrial machine. Eyes that see, hands that move, mouths that speak, but not human.

The robot pair is truly unique with their circular faces and wonderful colors. One bright as a golden Charleston-dress under a chandelier, eyes so wonderfully bleu they seem to be carved out of the ocean itself with a crown of metallic rays. The other shines like a blue evening gown under a low light, eyes as dangerous and enticing as a ruby with a long silk night cap that looks like it was sewn from the night sky.

Both with crescents that split their faces in the fashion of theater masks.

Both wear high-quality suits, the black of the suits contrast with their color, making their color shine even more and complementing their long limbs. A thick tie sits at the base of their slim metal necks, the end tucked neatly into their suits. The golden animatronic’s tie is a rich scarlet as well as his half gloves that always cover the animatronic’s hands. The blue animatronic’s tie and gloves contrast his counterparts wonderfully with their deep navy blue.

The robots are the bar's pride and joy, placed where everybody passes by, and the reason why they come here. The bar.

You noticed the animatronics the first time you visited, they were hard to miss as the owner proudly showed you them, even when it was from across the room. After that you had no time to pay the two bartenders any mind, quickly surrounded by people eager to meet you followed by your performance only to once again be surrounded by more people.

It was only your third visit that you truly saw them, and saw them you did. In the middle of your performance your gaze wandered to the bar, and what you saw was the golden robot cleaning a glass and looking at you.

You were no stranger to being looked at, your place was the stage after all, but the way the robot looked at you was different from the usual. Almost love-struck in that wonderful half-lidded lazy smile kind of way.

Your response to the animatronic’s gaze was a particular smile while singing a more romantic part of your song. This would have people hiding their faces as they reddened, have them melting on the table they are leaning on, or your favorite, bring a hand to their face as they hide their giddy giggles.

This however was not the response you got from the bartender.

Instead, you got a raised eyebrow and an amused smile, the robot placed the glass below the counter without braking eye contact. “Are you sure?” he said without making a sound. A challenge.

A challenge that you accepted.

For the rest of your performance during any particular romantic part of the song you made sure to let your gaze glide to the bar and exchange look with it’s bartender. His expression had changed ever so slightly from the first time you caught him looking. Still mostly the same but now with a hint of danger mixed in.

You could feel the tension between the bar and the stage rise with each exchanged look, neither of you breaking eye contact during the few seconds you had.

It was the most exciting performance you had in a long while, but it had to come to an end. The night just started and you needed to save your voice for your continued performance later in the night.

Immediately you were surrounded and distracted by people once you started your brake. Even though you couldn’t see the bartender you were pretty sure he saw you. Shortly after you began your brake a waiter came up to you, on a silver platter sat a single beautiful decorated crystal glass. The glass is short and wide like a whisky glass.

A rich orange liquid filled the short glass to a perfect half. When you asked the waiter who sent you the drink he simply said “It’s on the house.” You had ever the slightest hunch from whom it came. When you sipped from the glass the taste of honey sweet and yet smoky whisky filled your mouth, followed by a fruity aftertaste.

You couldn’t help the little that spread on your lips.  

Later in the evening, your performance continued. But this time it was not the golden robot tending to the bar but his blue counterpart. A little childish part of you wanted to make the two bartenders jealous of each other, make them vie for your attention.

While resting the owner had told you more about the robots, how highly advanced they were, how they are unique and that there is no second pair like them, how they work together like a well-oiled machine. “Almost like twins,” he said.

‘Twins’

Maybe you can cause a little bit of a sibling rivalry then.

Nothing too bad, just a little bit of fun.

You didn’t even need to get the robot's attention, when you let your gaze wander to the bar he was already giving it all to you. You went through the whole routine again, you smile at the bartender during a romantic part of the song, he raises one eyebrow in a challenge and you accept.     

And just like his counterpart, he did not break eye contact as the few seconds you had each song ticked by.

This went on for a few songs until his counterpart returned. When you looked back to the bar you saw the two of them talking, the blue one facing away from you and the other blocked by his counterpart. They looked neither irate or iterated, rather they looked natural at least from what you could tell during those few seconds before you returned your gaze to the guest. 

Oh, too bad.

Maybe they figured out what you trying to do and decided to ignore you then. You couldn’t really blame them, even if you did. A fun challenge ended because you wanted some excitement in your life.

When next you returned your gaze to the bar you where meet not by one but two pairs of glowing eyes, both pairs half lidded accompanied by lazy smiles. The two robots have banded together.

Two robots band together against you in order to win this challenge, that is known only to you three. They might have been at a numbers advantage, but if they thought that you were going to let them win they were in the wrong. You were not going to back out just because it got more exciting. 

And so this challenge went on for the rest of the evening and into the night, unbeknownst to the other guests in the large room. 

By the time your performance ended it was well into the night, the sun was long gone and the moon took its place in the sky.

And just like always the moment you step off the stage you were surrounded by people eager to snag all your attention for themselves. You gave them your attention, but not all. Just like on stage, you glanced towards the bar but there were no eyes meeting you.

The bartenders had returned to their duty, now that your performance was over the guests wanted their drinks. Both animatronics hands move at impossible speed around the bar, you were surprised they didn’t knock anything over at the speed at which they were moving.

Your challengers are distracted by their duty so you allowed yourself the be distracted as well.

Not long after a different waiter came up to you, on the silver platter a tall wide decorated crystal glass. It almost looked like a whine glass but not quite, that moment you decided that you’d have to brush up on your glass etiquette. The liquid inside this glass was deep red, along the edge a ring of sugar.

Again as you asked who this is from the waiter said “It is on the house.”

You toke a sip and the sweet flavor of wine spread across your tongue along with a light taste of citrus from the ring around the glass.

That’s when you decided you have to come back and come back often.

And so you did.

Over the following months, you were at the bar at the very least once a month. Every time without fail, after you went on brake or finished your performance, a waiter would come up to you with a wonderfully decorated glass and the best-tasting drink inside of it.

Once, when your voice wasn’t the best to the point where it was hard to miss that you weren’t at your best, a waiter brought you a simple glass, inside was warm milk with honey when you asked who sent it the answer was “The bar.”

Months and months have past, and a good amount of change happened both in your career and in your relation ship with the bartenders.

Career-wise you have taken off. Now recognized and sought after outside the state you were busy going to new locations, meeting new people, meeting contemporaries, and singing your new songs.

You were outside the city more often and longer, but you made it a point to always drop by your bartenders.

Your bartenders, with whom you have not exchanged a single word since you first saw each other. The bartenders with whom your relationship has developed past a simple challenge.

The looks you exchange have not increased in length, which was nigh impossible while you stand on stage, but they have increased intensity.

Their looks are no longer love-struck but devouring. Every time they look at you they drink up your entire being, as if your existence and your existence alone keeps them alive. They now let their eyes wander across your form, you never see them doing it but you can feel their eyes on you.

As their eyes travel up and down your body, drinking it in. The way you move, the way your costume lays against your skin, the slightest of wrinkles in your clothing, the smallest of hairs it doesn’t matter. They absorb it all, like a flower after drought drinking up all the water it can get.

That night when you first noticed their eyes traveling you, you almost lost the challenge. 

When your gaze followed the path it took so many times before, you saw them. Sitting behind the bar counter, leaning on it as they rested their faces in their hands. They had no shame as they showered you with their affection, attention, adoration and anything else they could give you through their eyes alone.

You immediately felt your face heat up and the urge to hide your face but you caught yourself before you looked away. Your cheeks remained a soft shade of pink trough the rest of the night and your singing had a bit more pep in your step.

Not long after you reviled a new song that made big waves and that caused you to become more known. A song about the sun and the moon, how the singer basks in the sun's warm light, how the singer would follow the moon's beautiful light anywhere and never feel alone, how the singer oh so loves the celestial bodies and their wonderful light, how they wouldn’t know how to live without them.

You let the song spread before you visited your favorite bar again, you wanted to play with them before returning the favor of a warm face. And play with them you did. You teased, called members of the audience the sun and the moon, said how the song is devoted to all and everyone. You played up how this song is to remind of the things one easily takes for granted and that whole spiel.

In the corner of your eye you could see how the robots seemed to deflate with each word. It hurt, and a lot more than you expected but you had to do it so it would hit just as hard as their affection.

When the part came where the singer talks about their love for the sun and moon you let your gaze wander before firmly landing on the bartenders, you had not looked to them before this part of the song. You didn’t care to hide your smug smile on your face as you look at your dear bartenders.

And it worked, like a charm.

They went rigid as they listened to the words coming out of your mouth, completely and fully directed at them.

The cheeks of the robots started to glow a bright orange as some mechanism in their face began to overheat, small puffs of steam expelled from their joints as they tried to cool themselves. And just like you, they almost lost the challenge.

Those few seconds felt like hours, hours their eyes were glued onto you before you released them. From the corner of your eye you could see them fanning their face, desperately trying to cool the mechanism in their face and failing.

For the rest of your performance, their cheeks remained a soft warm orange.

And now, here you are.

Sitting in front of your vanity in your brand new apartment right above your favorite bar. The owner had gifted it to you as a thanks for visiting the bar so often and coincidentally bringing in more guests and therefore income.   

Said guests have started to slowly leave the bar below as it is about to close. You can hear the distant chatter of people through your open balcony door. After one more look at yourself in your vanity mirror, checking your makeup and hair to see if it is acceptable to leave your apartment in these conditions, you get up the close the balcony door.

The chatter has significantly lessened since the beginning of closing time. The few people outside must be the last stragglers.

The bar is now officially closed.

When you return to your vanity you catch yourself in the mirror again. Your simple dark blue dress pants reach slightly over your ankle. They blend well together with your black shoes, they are not your highest shoe when it comes to heel shoes but your favorite, they give you just a few inches more.

A light green poke dot poncho hangs from your shoulders, down to your thighs. It's loose and frilly, one of your favorites. It shows enough of your silhouette but not too much, even if that doesn’t really matter since you’ve worn very form-fitting costumes on stage before.

And yet again you contemplate your looks, you have been doing this for far too long. Changing outfits, makeup, hairstyles and changing the outfit again.

You never have trouble picking an outfit for performances before. So why is it that you are struggling now to pick an outfit, your not even preparing for a performance.

You just want to finally actually meet your bartenders.

You have been exchanging looks with them for months, basically flirted with each other back and forth. Hell, you have even confessed each other's love for one another. You wrote an entire song to do it.

So why are you so nerves.

You look at yourself in the mirror for many moments and as the doubts about your clothing start to make their way back in your head and gnawing at your confidence, you all but run out the door. If you change again you’ll never meet the two.

They are already head over heels for you and so are you.

You make your way down the stairs. The staircase is illuminated by small decorative lamps along the walls, their colored glass shades bath the space in a warm yellow. With a rhythmic tack tack tack of your heals you make your way down the stairs.

Once you’re at the bottom you stand in the back hallways of the bar. No simple guest is allowed back here and yet the hallways are equally as decorated as the main floor. You haven’t had time to familiarize yourself with the all corridors, but you know the way to the stage entrance.

The path is well light and as you step on to the backstage, slowly you pass the curtain that decorates the side of the stage, the light just above welcomes you as always. Your heart is beating like insane in your chest and you have to take a couple of deep breaths to calm before you fully step out onto the stage.

The view of this usably packed place, now completely empty is more than a bit strange but that is not what you focus on. You focus on the bar and its lack of attendants. The bar sits completely empty, there is not a single metallic shine of robotic limbs to be seen. To say your heart drops would be an understatement.

Did you miss them, they should be here, they are always behind the bar. Do they just leave once the bar is closed.

Where are they.

As fear begins to pluck at your heartstrings, what if you don’t meet them now, will you ever actually meet them. Are the three of you cursed to only look at each other.

Suddenly a muffled noise from somewhere even further behind the bar gets your attention. You walk to the very edge of the stage and lean over the edge to listen for that muffled noise again.

It sounds like a conversation. And just when you think that it might be them, you see a flash of blue pass by a doorway in the bar’s wall that you didn’t even notice was there. All these months you look at the bar and nerve noticed that it has a backroom, well you were more so looking at the bartenders. But that doesn’t matter now, they are still here, you didn’t miss them.

Immediately your mood brightens by the power of the sun. You hop of the stage as quietly as possible and tiptoe your way to the bar counter. Easier said than done thanks to your heals. 

You are full of energy and nerves, your heart is doing leaps in your chest. You are as giddy as a kid whose dad is taking them to the toys shop to pick out a new toy.

In an attempt to stop the giggle building in your throat you bite your tongue. However that doesn’t stop the stupid smile on your face from spreading.

In on swift and quite motion you sit yourself on one of the bar chairs. You remain unnoticed. On top of the bar counter are two little bras bells, one with details painted in yellow and the other in blue. You have a hunch for what these bells are for.

Past the door, the conversation between the unknowing animatronics continues. You take one deep breath, then you ring both bells at once with a gentle tap of your finger. The sound the bells make is beautiful and light, but your trained ear can hear that one of the bells has a bit more reverb than the other.

The conversation comes to a stop and hear what you think is a synthetic sigh. Then out from the door steps one of your dear bartenders. His rays catch the light from above and give him the appearance of a glowing crown. His wonderful blue eyes don’t meet yours as he looks down to his hands where he works on putting his red half-glove back on his exposed hand.

His had is a wonderful shining chrome, the tips of his fingers are a brilliant yellow.

When he speaks his voice is butter-smooth and honey-sweet when he talks. “The bar is closed for tonight.” He sounds exhausted, like he had to have this conversation often. “I’ll have to ask you to leave-“

He finally looks up and meets your eyes, immediately freezing mid-step. He looks at you wide-eyed, surprised to see you of all people here.

“Oh, if you don’t want me here I can leave again.” You say as you turn on the chair as if to get up. “Ah- No. Stay.” The animatronic blurts out as he steps closer to the counter, one ungloved hand stretch out as if to stop you from leaving.

You lean back on the counter and smile at the sunbot, resting your head on the palm of your hand. “I’ll stay then.”

“Yes stay here.” The animatronic says quietly, sweetly, as he moves even closer. He drinks in your very being like he did so many times before, only closer now.

Your face warms up, about to catch fire. Already you can tell, that if he speaks even more sweetly to you, this will be a lethal encounter.

At least you know the names of your demise, after all the bar owner proudly told you their names during your very first performance.

From behind your Sun his counterpart emerges, his nightcap lazily resting on his shoulder, he is also not wearing his half gloves. Just like his counterpart, his hands are a shining chrome and his fingertips are a deep blue.

“Sun, what’s going on?”

You just about die. His voice is nothing short of heavenly. Deep and lush, simply beautiful. You can feel the vibration of his voice down your spine.

The lunar bot meets your eyes and visibly brightens. “Oh~.” You are deceased. “Finally decided to visit us~.” The animatronic says with a grin, showing his sharp teeth. He steps around his counterpart and stands next to him.

“Oh, you know. I had nothing else to do.” You lean forward, closer to them and fold your fingers together before resting your head on them. Both robots lean forward as well, closing the distance between you even more.

“Plus, I thought things were getting a bit boring, so I thought we make it a bit more exiting.” The smile that spreads across your face is smug.

Both bots raise their eyebrows, just like they did the first time. “More exciting? And how might we do that.” The golden bot asks.

Without saying a word you free your hand and reach for the sun bots face. His gaze follows your hand. Gently and slowly you reach under the bots chin and lift it, from where he was looking down at your hand, to look at you.

“Oh, nothing too big.” You say sweetly.

His internal workings kick into overdrive, the wiring inside his chest becomes louder, puffs of steam seep through his suit and the metal of his cheeks becomes a hot orange. The rays around his face fold back against his head and he stammers something before he wraps his hand around yours and removes it from his face as it is getting to hot.

However, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

Next to him, Moon lets out a dark chuckle and it’s your turn to melt.

“Playing the jealousy game again?” The bot accuses you amused. “It was worth a try. Don’t you think?” You retort playfully.

He chuckles again. His gaze lands on Sun who has slightly recovered from your flirt, now he examines your hand with a loving fascination. You follow Moon's gaze and watch Sun as he gently turns over your hand.

It is only then that you realize how much bigger Sun's hand is compared to yours, his hand completely engulfs your with ease. A few seconds later you realize how much bigger they are in general. Sitting at a bar with a human bartender, you see eye to eye but with these two you have to crane your neck to look them in the eye, even if they are already hunched over.

So lost in your realization, you barely notice the hand that is coming towards your face. Blue fingertips gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before tracing your skin and cupping your face.

You can't help but lean into the cool chrome hand and let out a small sigh. You relax as a cool thump softly draws circles on your cheek and yellow-tipped fingers work their way up your arm.

And there you remain for longer, with your dear bartenders, no longer confined to look at you, but now able to touch you just as gently as they looked at you.   

[g1rlken]

┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

1. Part, Alex turner x actress!reader

summary: ugly break up and working together

warnings: smear campaigns, Twitter incels, award season, depression

word count: 4.8k+

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Relationships become a hurdle of choreographing well being when you’re going through a difficult period in life. The one person that’s supposed to be wholly yours becomes another face to mask with. Empathy feels good for a week, two weeks, a month. As the days would stack up it would just feel like a customised emotion, a weight. That’s how y/n felt, her relationship with Alex had seen a lot of ups and downs over their year and a half together. A lot of fights, long distances, miscommunications but it never weighed them down nor their relationship. They always came back stronger after a set back as such. However such shaky career hurdles were only ever seen by Alex, writer’s block, studio pressure, album press, billboard charts, the critics it was a coin toss on fate and he’d often land on the difficult side. But he had a lot of years in the industry and a well composed mind to these things.

Maybe her issues were difficult, Hollywood is eitherways a harsher ground for women. Especially the acting industry, she was facing method acting allegations by one of her elderly costars of old fashion. Not that method acting was concept of bad light in modern day cinema but the characters of the show were very demanding maybe some bitterness towards y/n however she never paid any mind to those when it started. Even her costars all took it lightly, the method acting questions started coming up in almost all promotions, either that or her relationship. She handled that with grace too, all until the emmys. The Emmys where she won one, a shining star in the tapestry of her young career. Amidst her speech a stand up show host had a set organised. Seemingly she wasn’t priorly informed about it being found dumbfounded on stage. In front of everyone, the same joke of being an alleged method actor made an imprint on her first ever Emmy. Everyone present just laughed like they would through a normal set, they laughed at her, she felt like the world ended. After that function she felt increasingly uncomfortable with herself, a laughingstock. Twitter was divided like it always is, she would just focus on those who added to the joke. Witty jabs. Variety articles behind y/l/n’s Emmy fiasco.

Alex tried. Alex tried really hard, he forced screens away from her. WiFi in their house only for certain hours and he’d supervise it, weekend getaways for her almost every weekend. She just seemed to not escape it, losing her appetite even. Alex was the cook between the two of them, meals would take hours and hours for her to get it down and he would sit with her without a complaint. He loved her truly unconditionally and he was aware it was genuinely hard for her. Such smear campaign was very hard to escape. When she started having sleep issues as well he forcibly suggested therapy. Y/n truly believed she wasn’t meant for therapy, she wasn’t ’therapy audience’ and he consoled her very hard into joining it. Eventually she did and it just added to the shitshow. Apparently the therapist found her difficult to work through, it lasted barely 2 weeks and the therapist referred her to someone else. It became public and her therapist’s statement was “The most difficult patient in all of my career.” Maybe it was the amateur hour for the therapist or maybe it wasn’t meant in a better light but social media smear campaign treated it like a festival.

As weeks progressed everything else seemed increasingly difficult. Especially Alex. Seeing his life, his new normal which would start and end with her well being and nothing would change with her mental state either. Alex was giving out so much of himself yet she couldn’t find it in herself to actually smile even. That guilt was worse than everything else. She let that guilt consume her for a while until she finally decided to do something about it.

That evening, after dinner she finally put a stone on her heart and decided to lay that conversation to him. Guiding him to sit across her on the sofa of their shared place she took his hands into hers “Alex, no one else has stood by me the way you have, these two whole months. It’s the worst thing that’s happened to me perhaps ever and you’ve been with me through it. Just how the cliches say it-like my rock.” She said patiently “I feel like I’m not making any progress but if it weren’t for you I would’ve been at a worse place and” she took in a shaky breath before continuing a long pause following something Alex had no idea of.

“Just how you’ve been around for me.” He said holding her hands in his right her “And what we are isn’t for cliches or for saying y/n, I love you and despite of you being at your lowest as long as I have you, I have all I need. We’ve had rough patches before we’ve been alright and we will be even-“

“Just…just let me finish yeah?” Y/n interrupted him looking down their hands because looking into his eyes which carried soft love was so much harder. “You’re giving away too much of yourself. You don’t see it but I do, you’ve made my well being some sort of a passion project of yours and I understand you want the best for me I really do. But I have to look out for you too, and, I feel like this isn’t fair to you. We’re not working out…we won’t.”

A very long silence followed as Alex stared at her comprehending that, “what?” he huffed in denial “what do you mean?” He asked as if it would change what she meant.

“Alex…” she brought his hands closer to her “you need to do better in life, better than this. You have so much potential to give out, into yourself, into your career and you’ve spent so much on me already. I can’t keep you for me like this…we should…part.”

“I am passionate about you what do you mean passion project? I am in love with you and I want to help you. Just how you’d help me don’t you see it? So you don't get to decide that for me and my potential. It’s mine.” Alex stated firmly.

“Exactly. It’s yours! You’re pouring it all out into me—you’re draining yourself-“

“None of that is for you to decide!” Alex stopped her sentence midway leaving her hands out of his to run his hands through his hair out of frustration.

“Fine…” y/n seemed bad with confrontation and she didn’t want to paint herself out to be a bad lover in his history books years from now but she didn’t know how else to not do that. He was hurting unknowingly. “But this is for me to decide and I have. W-we need to..” she couldn’t even find it in herself to finish that sentence. “Break up.”

“No.” Alex stated so casually like she just asked her a very simple question, as if it was a question. “No we do not. We don’t need to do any such thing.”

“Alex…” she sighed looking away, his denial was breaking her heart. Tears formulated her eyes as she thought about how much this will hurt him.

“What Alex? No: I’m refusing.” He shrugged, very nonchalantly shrugging. Declining her wish as he didn’t even look at her.

“Alex please” she said as she gently cupped his face to look at her, “you don’t realise this…you have been putting yourself through so much for me. This-this is difficult I know, but you’ll be better after this.”

“Y/n, listen to me” he shifted in his seat to face her. “You don’t get to decide this for me. You are going through a tough time and I will not leave you.”

“You haven’t written a piece in two months..you don’t even go to the studio. You barely leave me alone to work with anything else!” She pointed out, all these bits of his habits were vanishing out and she had noticed it all. Being an early riser he’d go for a run around the block but nowadays he’d just time how many hours she had slept because of her issues. Time her vitamins and supplements. Plan things with her and only her as if he wasn’t supposed to have a life of his own.

“I have a writer’s block!” He exclaimed growing increasingly hurt and frustrated that this is how she viewed him helping her. She sounded like a burden to herself but he had never considered one to himself and he hated that she felt that way.

“Because you’re so occupied with me!” She exclaimed back with a sigh rubbing her eyes and looked away, uncrossing her legs on the couch.

“That’s just your assumption y/n you don’t know how my process works and you shouldn’t come to conclusions about things you don’t know.” Alex tried to reason with her even if she was right he couldn’t care less. She was important to him and she needed his full attention.

“Could you please just listen to me Alex…I don’t want to stay within this-“ y/n replied trying to find the right words.

“With me. You don’t want to stay with me.” He rephrased her sentence giving it to her as raw as he fathomed.

“Yes.” Taking in a deep breath she finally let it out because he wasn’t listening to her without brutal honesty. “Yes I don’t.”

“That just isn’t true-that’s not right you’re too tired today that’s all.” Alex replied, he wanted to point it maybe she was also hungry but he kept that for more persuasion.

“Alex, please.” Y/n breathed taking her head in her hands because none of her reasonings got into her head.

He just shook his head in response as the silence weighed heavy between the two of them. Tears streamed down her face as they sat there, Alex was more fine with this tension than he was with being without her. “We just can’t…y/n.” Alex said.

“I’m really sorry” she said as she looked back up at him teary eyed. The tears seemingly made everything difficult for sure. “It’s going to be alright…” she wiped her tears and looked away again. His sad gaze was so gutting to look at and talk at the same time it felt like it would stick with her, hauntingly, even after she leaves.

“But it’s alright already” He urged shifting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her trying to meet her eyes but she kept her gaze fixated at the coffee table.

“That’s what you want to think” she said softly with a heavy heart. “I don’t want to do this either Alex…it’s for the best.”

If it were for the best he wouldn’t be feeling his heart sink lower and his breath shortening. His vision becoming fuzzy already as tears brimmed in his eyes as well. But he wanted to handle this more delicately. “It isn’t, you know it isn’t.” He sniffled. “This isn’t what I want and I know it’s not what you want either, why do you feel this way? This need to run?”

“I’m not running Alex” I’m setting you free, she didn’t say out loud “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and…and this is going to hurt. It will hurt for a while but you’ll get over it.”

“Get over you? Y/n I don’t plan on leaving you” he said still drowning in denial. Stern denial and blind faith he could fix this mess, if he talked to her more. He could fix this mess, if he asked her sleep on it. He could fix this mess, if he held her closer. So he did. “Y/n look at me, look at me.” He forced her to face him. “This isn’t a rational solution. You are going through so much and you are thinking too much but this is a mistake. What we have is bigger than our problems-“

“Alex.” She stopped him midway, staring into his teary eyes with hers the same “This is my problem. You try to make to make it ours, helping me through it is one thing but this is taking up too much effort and energy in your life don’t you get that?”

Alex had never felt this defeated all his life. No reasoning seemed to get to him. He couldn’t digest that she let such thoughts mature for about a week and never once preferred to talk to him about it but just became sure about it. When the fact that she felt so distant from him to not even bring it up brought him to flowing tears. Taking his face into his hands he cried. Breaking down, y/n never saw him like this and she had seen him go through supposedly tougher situations. “You can’t do this to me” he said, his voice parched and eyes red.

The thought of leaving the next day in the morning, sleeping in different bedrooms and hugging him a goodbye at breakfast was so done now. If she didn’t leave now she won’t be able to leave ever. Just holding his face in her hands as her tears streamed down her face reciprocating his. She couldn’t even muster the courage to mouth a sorry. She glanced away at her keys and wallet by the side table. It hit her like a truck when she realised there won’t be a goodbye tomorrow but today. This very moment. She slowly got her car keys and wallet and put them on her side. “It’s going to be okay…” she said sighing. Cupping his face in her hands as he reciprocated the action holding her hands and staring into her eyes.

“No it’s not” he replied with heavy grief laced in his voice. Why wouldn’t she do anything to change this? Why would she let it be this way? He felt helpless to how she firm she was about this. He placed his lips onto hers holding her closer by her waist as she cradled his face. It time were to stop he’d prefer death over letting her go. As they kissed he realised how temporary this moment will be and how this memory will bite him with sharp teeth of yearning. He couldn’t stomach the thought that she would be a memory. Visit him in nostalgia and come up in conversations and that would be all?

Eventually she pulled away from their kiss, wiping his tears with her hands as her own surfaced her face too. His dreary eyes had such an effect upon she couldn’t bare it and she softly kissed him again. His hands would still not let her go. As moments passed in holding each other and the kisses broke she realised it was time. “Goodbye, Alex.” She spoke with a voice barely above whisper because the sound of her voice breaking was louder.

His eyes widened as he realised she was leaving, now. He had barely come to terms with the fact that she was leaving. He held her hand back as she tried standing up. “You’re leaving?” His voice broke as he asked that. Y/n didn’t have it in herself to answer him what he already knew she just looked at him apologetically. Apology she knew she didn’t deserve at this very moment. “You can’t just leave right now-think about this. Sleep on it, if you still want to go leave next week?”

His negotiations seemed to know no bounds and the bargain was to get him nowhere. It would probably make him worse if she stayed. If she stayed after this. “Alex-“

“You can’t even drive in this state y/n absolutely not-if you want a break from me we could just sleep in separate bedrooms I won’t bother you-“ he tried to come up with all possible alternatives.

Her heart sank further realising how further he'd go just to make her stay. It solidified her decision of her leaving because he would always chose her above himself, even at the expense of himself hurting. She had to love him enough to let him go. “Alex…” she breathed stopping him midway “I have to.” Shaking her head she stood up to leave but didn’t see him stand up at the corner of her eyes. Somewhat relived it wouldn’t be harder to walk out that door perhaps. As she clutched her keys and wallet she felt a tug at her leg.

Looking behind to see Alex on his knees for her, it was perhaps the worst sight ever her tears reciprocating his again before he even spoke. “Y/n I beg of you please don’t go” he said as he wrapped his arms around her legs, on his knees weeping for her.

Trying to remain balanced on her footing against his grip, “don’t do this” she pleaded as her voice broke and she knelt to his level. “Please don’t make this harder.” She cried choking on her words and held his hands. Alex held her hands back very tightly.

“It doesn’t have to be hard at all” he spoke through tears as she sat close to him he brought her closer naturally settling onto his lap. As she cried and wiped his tears more just streamed down his face, “We can make it out of this y/n please, trust me please have some faith in us”

The desperation in his voice, the tears and his words it was all so gutting. This would me one of those moments she would perhaps never recover from. If she ever finds happiness again she felt like it would be at the expense of this, it would be hard for him. Very hard, but he would do so much better if she left. It was evident how much he was willing to give even to the last moment, it was concerning. “You can’t love someone this hard” y/n held his face in her hands and told him sternly “I am very miserable and I’m bringing you the same pain-over and over. This is it Alex. You won’t hurt again at the hands of me and I’m sorry it is this way…” she told him. He had no words but tears to shed. He sat absolutely defeated with her entangled in his arms. Neither he said anything nor did she.

Y/n held him back wrapping her arms around him giving him a hug or maybe hiding his teary face from herself and likewise. Rubbing his back as she hugged him sitting upon his lap. He buried his face by her neck holding her close. If the world were to end he wouldn’t care because it already did for him. The thought that this was probably the last time she would be in his arms like this made his agony worsen.

They just held each other for almost a whole hour, her head resting by his chest as they sat intertwined. The silent and slow understanding of the end. Some picture frames on the coffee table and the wall ahead, somewhat blurry because of the tears, those memories came back so much clearer. There will be no more and these will just remain pictures. Alex let out a shudder of a breath at that thought. “Where will you go?” He asked her in a tone just above a whisper.

“To my dad’s.” She replied softly without looking back up at him nor attempting to shift away from his grip. Last of his warmth. Theirs.

“He was just starting to like me…” he spoke as a soft chuckle escaped him through the tears and y/n’s followed. He would often joke with her that her dad ‘hated him’ because he was rather stern to him and she would always tell him otherwise. In truth he may be but what did it all matter now? He looked down at her in his arms when she let out a little laugh too but then quivering, broke down in his arms. He kissed the top of her head with silent consoling and holding her with the last of his love she’d let him give her.

The night wouldn’t last forever just like them and she finally left. With much courage and a heavy heart out of his arms and then their shared place. Alex couldn’t watch her leave and he did not. The last glimpse he caught of her face before he kissed the top of her head. He would think back to this for a long while and he wanted to remember her beautiful face and not her leaving him. She left and the door shut, on their house and their life together.

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A job is a job. However excruciating and beaten down, it finds you on your face but you’re bound to return. Y/n did as well. Over half a year, she started working again. Lived with her dad to make a comeback to the one place that would have ever even after everything. Her career made a turn eventually the Twitter smear campaigns wear themselves out. Talent comes through in Hollywood despite its vice like grip over its finest stars. Y/n’s project worked out, she avoided the award season despite being nominated but she did walk promotional red carpet for her new project. Time heals.

Time is subjected to heal everything even with some ignited hatred if that be to overcome the hurt. Alex, he grew to despise y/n. The first few months hurt so much, everywhere in the house he’d find his things even after she collected them. There were pieces of her everywhere. Their pictures were what hurt the least. Even after he moved out of the place whose sunrise constantly reminded of her absence of his arm. He kept finding her things everywhere. The longing could surround him for long until he turned all of that sadness into a harsher emotion. It was difficult to teach himself to decline her thoughts, hate her. But he did and that’s when he wasn’t as sad.

When the devil can’t reach you it keeps you on Alex turner’s bad side. Or perhaps send you to him. Just as now, y/n was doing her friend of years, Richard, a favour. Moreover Richard pleaded and begged her to do so. He was making a music video for the arctic monkeys and the studio’s PR team members wanted y/n specially or pull the cord of the entire project. Since her career was booming it would be perfect publicity for the upcoming single and her history with Alex. Y/n would rather not indulge in such at all, especially with Alex. Richard assured her that Alex wouldn’t even be on the set for the music video and it was set in Ireland’s grasslands. Too far for Alex to attend anyways since he wasn’t in the music video.

First day on set after she lands there y/n finds herself treated with warmth with the core team. The operator, the camera team, the crew most of them were faces she’d previously known. Everyone ‘glad’ to see her working again was a comment she was irked with for a while ever since she’d returned to working. They always said it in a comforting tone as if she’d was coming back from jail or so, such patient like sympathy was difficult but not anymore. Very comfortably used to it. Superficial condolences in the best way perhaps.

“Missed you fuckface!” She laughed as she hugged Richard on the set and he joined along. Hugging her back, they’d met after a long while.

“I did too, you jerk.” He laughed and ruffled her hair a bit, she nudged away in response and their inside jokes kept ongoing. Through the conversations it swayed back to being on set and Richard worked her through the video.

“This place is so remote I’m so glad you agreed because nobody else would’ve come this far and Alex wanted just you.” Richard mentioned as he talked her through the cinematic of it.

“Wait, Alex did?” Y/n asked furrowing her brows together. Richard had stated to her that Alex wouldn’t be there at all so him wanting her for the video, ‘just her’ was somewhat unbelievable.

“The record did…it’s kind of the same thing.” Richard replied.

“It’s not” she shrugged given she knew the context conversations between Alex and the record from when they were together. “I’m just so glad he’s not here”

“He’s not a bad person you know” Richard accounted for him thinking the breakup was his fault given how rigid y/n was not wanting to sign up for an AM project.

“Oh no of course not” he’s an angel, she didn’t say out loud. Alex kept whatever happened between them through the break up private. He didn’t even paint her out like someone who wronged him to their mutual friends, when he could’ve done so.

“Then why do you have such a problem with him being here?” Richard asked with voice laced of confusion and curiosity.

“I don’t have a problem just too much-“ drama? Bad memories? Good memories? Regret? All too much perhaps.

“Well that’s great then because he might be here.” Richard spoke hurriedly despite his promise he was just making the video he couldn’t dictate who could and could not be on set. Especially not the lead singer.

“What? What do you mean?” She asked with a dejected scoff, she believed him when he’d promised that Alex won’t be on set. “What do you mean here Richard you told me-“

“I mean here as in he may be around but he’s here for now-“ Richard fumbled with his words mentally preparing for the telling off y/n would inflict on him soon enough.

“Here as in?” She asked raising sharp brow at him crossing her arms.

“As in Ireland…” Richard trailed off and took a cue to hastily add the next information as she took in a sharp breath “Could also be on set”

“On set?!” She exclaimed “right now?”

“I’m not sure okay I don’t know-the video script had some changes and he was needed for some pretext or something. Also, y/n. He’s written this song, it’s his band—I can’t just say no to him if he wants to be on set.” Richard explained. The bickering went on back and forth for a while until a voice from behind broke them.

“Richard!” Alex exclaimed as he paced up to the man, all colour drained and also made her flustered when the air shifted with Alex’s hasty walk to Richard who she stood right beside. Alex greeted Richard with a hug. “This is a beautiful location, fantastic work yeah?”

“Ah thanks mate.” Richard said with a smile as they made a small talk about the set and think pieces. He tried to include y/n in the conversation too but Alex didn’t once look to the side as if she wasn’t even present there. Richard talked about some of the crew to Alex and then, wanting to relay it slowly. “And y/n, you know her of course”

“Right yeah” Alex scoffed and made a somewhat bothered expression, irritated in an instant. He did so as if she truly wasn’t present there. Intimidatingly he stood with his hands on his waist, leather jacket, the classic Alex. Soon enough without casting her as much as a glance he took his leave from the conversation.

She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not that it was a conversation at all. Y/n’s little ‘hi there’ was blatantly ignored by him too but it was all expected. She had planned to not cross paths with him but hypothetically after all that went down she had anticipated him being cold like this. She wasn’t mentally prepared for it, not today. However she didn’t hold it against him by all means he had the right to act this way. Even if she wanted to be somewhat offended by his harshness his pleading face, desperate tone, begging her not to leave on his knees all of it just came flooding back to sink her in regret. If the roles were reversed she would want to be far away from Alex and that’s what she would grant him. Keep her distance.

“So…” Richard trailed off pulling her out of her train of thoughts to talk about the unsolicited harshness. To an outsider, the breakup had been almost 6 months ago and neither of them made any big grievances about it so it was all very odd.

“Don’t.” Y/n shook her head not willing to go into this discourse.

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I’ll do a few parts to this series let me know if you want to be tagged ;)

Comments and thoughts will be so so so very appreciated please please please let me know