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plumipal · 7 months ago

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Last Name Dilemma

Yknow, this is purely for myself, happy me hating my last name. This is a yandere thing btw and please note that I am an artist, not a writer :,) so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes

I had this amazing idea. If you don't really like your last name and get sucked into the world of twisted wonderland, why not just get a new one? It's very easy when you have suitors vying for your attention at every corner of the school! 🤭

It all started in the cafeteria...

Of course they were overjoyed you thought their last names were cool, did this mean you indirectly wanted to marry them? Well the game is on, and they for sure will win.

Much to their displeasure though, rumors speads fast at NRC, with everyone else quickly getting to know about your lastname dilemma. They are not backing down, wanting to burn the world down just to achieve their happy ending with you.

Ace

Of course you would want to marry him! He is your first friend in this wretched school after all! (Deuce would like to differ on that statement but yeah)

Ace may not be the richest, smartest or most beautiful, but he is your best friend, (hopefully) your first choise and (will make sure to be) your first love! Guy is serious. He will also pull all sorts of dirty tricks against everyone else, you're his bestie to marry no one else's!

Deuce

Ah poor little Deuce. Guy choked on his food when he first heard you talk about how cool their last names sounded. You think his last name is cool? Does that mean that you like him too? You wanna date him, marry him? Be his forever?? He is feeding into his own delusions and your words are only making it worse.

As soon as he has finished lunch he will excuse himself and make a call to his mom and tell her the wonderful news on how you and him will definitely get married! (He just gotta get you a sweet, sweet ring that you deserve)

Cater

Cater being quick on the trends, he was even quicker on the rumors about you having no last name (and definelty needing one). He has such a cute last name, it would fit so well with you! <3

He is already dreaming up the perfect magicam wedding, to show off how the oh so wonderful you chose him, and no one else. He also dreams of the private moments after, how you'll hold him as he sobs his heart out, so happy you chose him. He hopes these silly daydreams will soon become reality, cos he can't wait much longer..

He also definelty overloads you with his clones, giving you so much love you don't need to turn to anyone else for that :)

Trey

When Trey heard the rumors he sighed, feeling bad for how overwhelmed you probably are with everyone else's proposals. Well, come to him whenever you feel like it's too much, he will always make sure to lktsen to your problems (he loves the domestic feel to just having late night chats with you in the heartlbuyl kitchen as he prepares another batch of sweets for the next unbirthday party).

He will make sure that his own proposal of marriage is short and sweet, and he is sure it will win you over, who wouldn't want his sweets all day every day? He will make sure to feed and love you for the rest of eternity if you chose him <3

Riddle

Riddle is messy, he wants you as his spouse and he kinda wants it NOW, since he feels like he deserves it. You're the perfect match to him, the king of hearts to his queen od hearts...

He will show off how good of a husband he would be to you, how he will take care of you with a stable job, how he will help you with all homework and make sure you get special treatment on unbirthday parties. If he sees anyone trying to propose why they should be yours and not him, well, you know his unique magic...

Jack

Wolves mate for life. Jack wants to mate for life. Who does he want as his mate? You. You have changed his life, and he does not want to lose you, please. He is territorial, liking how your name would sound with his last name, now he just gotta make it happen..

Ruggie

Ruggie feels desperate when he hears the rumors. Why would you chose him, when you have literal celebrities, prince's and high standing people vying for you? Then he remembers, he owes you. It's usually the other way around yes, bur he owes you somehow.

With this he cooks up the amazing plan of giving you his last name as a thanks for that one time. He also gotta introduce you to his family, he knows granny bucchi is gonna peer pressure you into accepting marriage with him...

Leona

Leona will not lose you. He has lost so much coming second to everyone he knows. He will NOT lose you to anyone here, he will fight dirty and kill for you if there's a chance he gets with you. He has the money to hire help to get rid of people too, and that same money can sway you into chosing him, since that deadbeat crow ain't giving you a liveable sum to live on.

He makes sure to capture you for naps whenever he can, making sure to leave his scent on you, enough so most people can smell how he has been on you.

Floyd

Eeh? Shrimps wants a good last name?? Well with his you could scare oh so many away, leading to an easy life for you! It also leads to a fun life with you and him, and there will never be a dull moment in his life with you by his side!

Just don't take his last name with his brother yeah? Get with him instead.

Jade

Oya? The prefect wants a last name? A husband too perhaps? Jade's smile widens as he plans out how to trap you into a wonderful marriage with him. Perhaps some of his new mushrooms in his terrariums will make you tired enough to get you to sign a marriage contract with him?

Just don't marry his brother instead of him, he don't really know how he would handle that..

Azul

Azul feels himself become of sp happy whenhe heard the rumors. Finally! You will have him corner you as soon as he can, sweet smile on his face as he offers you a golden contract of his. He crafted it meticulously, making sure everything in it would be perfect for the both of you.

He tries to butter you up so badly, please he just wants you to himself, is that too much to ask for?

Jamil

Jamil has to hold back to use snake whisper, but he has it in case you chose the wrong option (not him). He wants you, he does that to lose you to anyone, ESPECIALLY KALIM. He probably uses snake whisper against others, to sabotage, to do anything. He just can't lose you...

He definelty shows off his cooking and cleaning skills, showing how he can be the perfect househusband for you. Look how good you could have it with him...

Kalim

Kalim is manipulative about this. He mat not be aware of it, bur he sure is. He wants you as his (spouce) bestie, and he will get that. Guy has never gotten a no, and he will not get one now (he hope atleast).

Let him plan you a grandiose wedding! With food, clothes, venue, parades and so much more worth millions and millions of thaumarks. He will space no expense for you!

Epel

Why is epel so roughened up? Why he fought for your hand of course! Isn't it manly to show off that you can easily fend gör your love? He also loves loves LOVES the attention you give him as you fix him up.

He feels so proud of the fights he won, wearing the scars like proud medals, so please take care of them before they get infected- he will only let you do it-

Maybe he will get into more fights if he can get your heavenly touch as a reward..

Rook

Rook stalks you on the daily, so of course he got to work as soon as the words left your mouth. He will hunt you down, get your heart and love and live happily every after :)

He 100% gets violent as well, bur of course you won't see that side of him! He wouldn't want to scare you..

Vil

Vil is certain you will chose him. He is the fairest of them all (niege don't count he is ugly), that is what you deserve. He will take care of you, especially your appearance. You've sent how he is with epel, now get ready for double that...

He dolls you up, makes you the best version of yourself so he can show you off on his socials,to mush it into that dumb nieges face that THE vil had you and niege doesn't. He is the fairest of them all with you of course..

Of course, he is the only queen worthy enought for your love and affection, so please just marry him already, he wants a Photoshoot together with you...

Idia (plus Ortho being STRICTLY PLATONIC)

I'm sorry but have you read his ssr story? Guy doxxes over nothing lol. He will breach your security if you tell him no, he has lost so much already, can't he have you please? You're the only thing he wants...

He will 100% use Ortho against you, backing you into a corner together with the robot. Ortho wants to make his brother happy, and he would be the happiest together with you. Ortho would also be so so so happy if you were his bif sibling too!

Theyve lost so much, they just want a happy family, together with you.. (ORTHO ONLY WANTS YOU AS A SIBLING NO WEIRD SHI AGAINST ORTHO PLEASE)

Sebek

Sebek has to run to lilia for guidance. Why has this human out this wonderful spell on him, why does he feel so lightweight? Why is his face so red? Why does he want to reject you for the rest od your days, more than he wants to protect malleus?

He wants to marry you. To have a wonderful marriage between human hand half fae, almost liek his parents... he will protect you at all costs. Please do love his loudmouth ass back..

Silver

Silver has no last name as well, so in his mind you both are already matching. He is too sleepy to actually do anything other than fall asleep with you.

Lilia

Lilia would snicker at the rumors. Ah, how he feels young again, silly what love can do to someone... he would love to help his son's with this, but sadly he wants this just as much if not more...

Malleus

Malleus does not want to lose his friend. His first and only real friend. He has tried to court you for so long, and now that you've dropped a hint that you wanted him (by saying you wanted a cool last name) he starts the royal courting traditions.

He follows all the traditions, step by step, being very careful to be correct and sparing no expense. He makes sure you see the future home of yours (the castle), his humongous hoard and his greatest treasure, gao gao dragon..

.. holy hell this was so much longer than what I expected. Well, who would you go for? Do tell :,)

Also, would yall want more long form content like this or way more short form? My asks got deleted so don't really have any to draw smhhh </3 so do send shi in please <3

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fangirl-dot-com · 11 months ago

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Incorrect Quotes

all of these were from Pinterest - cause I'm not this funny (I also couldn't wait for the next chapter to come out so here :D)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 26 spots still open! (please send me a direct message to be added!)

Y/n: I’m cool Oscar Y/n: I’m THEE coolest Y/n: In fact, I was once arrested for being too cool *puts on sunglasses* Oscar: The charges were dropped because there was no supporting evidence. Also, your glasses are upside down.

Y/n: I have a very specific type Max: Oh yeah? Like what? Y/n: Y’know…polite, handsome, athletic…that sort of thing Arthur (on his fourth energy drink of the day) tripping over camera wires and holding his mic upside down: you little shit eating, damned pathetic piece of shit – now you listen here Y/n: *heart eyes* that one. I want that one. Max: *flabbergasted*

Lando: bet you’re standing in the corner because you’re scared that you’ll get turned down if you talk to anyone Y/n: please, I could fluster near everyone at this party if I chose to Oscar: oh yeah? Prove it. Go for someone borderline impossible and I’ll believe you Y/n, approaching Arthur: hey dumbass, hoodie looks kind of cute on you, wanna get out of here? Arthur: WH- I MEAN- UHHHH YEAH SURE Y/n: perfect Oscar and Lando:

Y/n: I brought a red bull Max: I don’t want a red bull Y/n: I didn’t bring this for you. This is my red bull. Max: then why are you telling me? Y/n: It’s a conversation starter. Max: That’s a lousy conversation starter Y/n: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate *sips red bull*

Y/n: *gently taps table* Logan: *taps back* Alex: what are they doing? George: morse code Y/n: *aggressively taps table* Logan: *slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

Lewis: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated Y/n: Killed without hesitation Lewis: nO!

Y/n: Is stabbing someone immoral? Mitch: Not if they consent to it. Max: Depends on who you’re stabbing. Christian: YES?!

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Y/n: Shit Logan: Wait, three? Cop: yeah? Lando: OH MY GOSH OSCAR FELL OFF!!

Max: Time for plan G. Liam: Don’t you mean plan B? Daniel: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Y/n: What about plan D? Daniel: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Max: What about plan E? Liam: I’m hoping not to use it. I die in plan E Yuki: I like plan E.

Christian: Did none of you think this was a bad idea? *Y/n, Max, Charles, and Arthur covered in navy and red paint* Y/n: Oh no, we all did. We just decided to do it anyway.

George: (in sunglasses and newest Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit) *in the most posh accent* I’m too good for revenge Logan: (covered in bug spray, cowboy hat and overalls on, pumped full of Bang energy drink and high on freedom) *cocks shotgun* Well, I’m not. Give me the name.

Arthur: So what’s your type? Y/n: Kinda long blond hair, green eyes, dumb, dimples, funny, really thin waist Arthur: Huh, that kind of sounds like me! Too bad its not me! Y/n: did I mention dumb? Arthur: yeah, why? Y/n: just making sure

*Over Text*

Y/n: Hey pretty boy, what’re you up to? :) Arthur: Eating cereal in bed Y/n: And what would you be doing if I was in bed with you? Arthur:…I would still be eating my cereal?

Waitress: And what would you like to eat? Y/n: I wish to devour the unborn Fernando: Eggs, she would like eggs

Y/n: Do you think that when sheep go to sleep they count themselves? Lando: Or do they count humans? Y/n: Ooo, that’s a good question Oscar: GO TO SLEEP

Y/n to Max: because I am a mature adult *turns to see Mitch, Christian, and Vito shake their heads* *turns back to Max* Y/n: I am an adult

*Dinner with Max, Y/n, Charles, and Arthur*

Y/n: The food is too cute, I can’t eat it! Max: Charles: Arthur: You’re cute, but I’d still eat y- Max: ONE DINNER Charles: *sighs* here we go again Max: ONE NORMAL DINNER IS ALL I ASK Y/n: Charles, this pasta is also crunchy, I truly can’t eat this

Ollie: Good night everyone Arthur: Good night Lando: Good night Oscar: Good night Y/n: good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. Tonight, imma fight until we see the sunlight. Tik tok on the clock, but the party don’t stop Oscar: I’M DONE

George (t-posing in the doorway): Greetings, parental figures and sister figure *Y/n, Lewis, and Toto walking past* Toto (not looking up from his coffee): Good morning, problem child

Christian: You see, Fernando, Y/n is at the age where she only has one thing on her mind Fernando (noticeably excited): Oh! Oh! Oh! Boys? Max (looking over at the dead tired rookie with revenge in her eyes as she looks at Esteban): No. Murder.

Y/n: Hey Liam, want some of this food? Liam: Sure, thanks! Yuki (storming in with the anger of the gods): WHO TF ATE MY LEFTOVERS THAT CLEARLY HAD MY NAME ON IT Y/n: WE did Liam: You surprisingly smart little mf

Y/n: Never have I ever…Been grounded by my parents! Arthur (exasperated): Every time. She makes disownment jokes every time and she always wins Max: Good one Kid. I always go for the ‘never had a dad who supported me.’ Charles: *stands up and walks away*

Y/n: I’ve only said I love you to four people. Christian, Vito, Arthur, and Max when I thought he died after he wouldn’t respond after a DNF. I only regret one of those�� Lando: Which one? Y/n: Max. He was just pressing the wrong button and walked out a few minutes later. He made me look like an idiot. Max: I let you win next race Y/n: still

(Y/n, Logan, Lando, and George trying to sneak into RB for more energy drinks after being banned from drinking more)

Logan: So what do you think Y/n will do as a distraction? Lando: She’ll probably, like, make a noise George: Or throw a rock. That’s what I would do *The door flings open and smoke follows. Screams of mechanics fill the air as they try to extinguish a small fire* Logan:…Or she could do that.

Y/n: When I die, donate my entire body to science Y/n: Except my middle finger, give that to Esteban

(max and y/n in a horror movie)

Max: QUICK YOU’RE LOSING A LOT OF BLOOD. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? Y/n (bleeding out): tall, male, brown hair, dimples, caring, supportive, Monegasque Max: BLOOD TYPE DUMBASS Y/n: oh Y/n: (looks down at wound) Y/n: red

Lando: I wish we could block people in real life. Oscar: Restraining order Y/n: Murder

Christian: Y/n, we need to talk about your professionalism for media days Y/n (and a lot of media personelle she rounded up, all standing on chairs): those are some mighty brave words for someone standing in lava

Y/n (to Max while hiding behind some tires – regretting everything): and then I called him dad Christian (to Geri – trying not to cry while cameras are everywhere): and then she called me dad

Max: Christian, look what Y/n got me for father’s day *holds up generic #1 dad mug* Christian (glaring silently while sipping from his own #1 dad mug) Max: that lying rookie Vito (holding a worn down #1 dad mug): you guys are late to the party suckers

Criminals: We have your daughter and son Toto: I don’t have a daughter and Jack is right here Criminals: then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwiches? Christian: dear God, you have Y/n and George

Mitch: So Christian, you and Geri want to be a parents again someday? Christian: Someday? We’re parents right now. Mitch: Y/n is your employee Geri: She is our BLOOD

Christian: Max is late again Kelly: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11 Y/n: I wrote a fake schedule saying we were starting at 9 instead of 12 Lando: I changed his clock from AM to PM Christian: I think you may have overdone it Max (bursting into the garage): WHAT YEAR IS IT?

Y/n: If I blended Red Bull, five hour energy, monster, coffee, and hot Cheetos into an energy smoothie...would it kill me? Logan: *shrugs* only if you die Y/n (getting out the blender): you're so smart Logan Max (running into the room): y/N STOP!

Lance: I got Netflix like you asked! Y/n: OH that's amazing! I've been mooching off Max's and Arthur's accounts for a while. This will be nice! Lance: Wait, what do you mean accounts? Y/n: Their Netflix accounts? Lance: Y/n: Like their profiles? I wanted one of my own, they're like $12 Lance: Lance:....Oh....You meant the account on the service... Y/n: Yeah, what did you think I meant? Wait...What did you buy? Lance: Lance:....Netflix...

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12

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heartless-tate · 7 months ago

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Hi! If I may be so self indulgent and request something... 👉🏻👈🏻

Reader being a (for lack of better words) boring person. They're good at blending in within social circles but never standing out or having a circle or friend of their own. Good laughing at jokes but can't come up with good ones or even if they did, they don't have the courage to tell them outright. They're very much a chicken when it comes to expressing themselves as an individual because they're never comfortable enough around anyone. They are a chicken in general, to be honest. This essentially (and sadly) leaves them as an NPC in their own life. And they've accepted it, trying to come to terms with a life of extreme mediocrity. They're actively trying to push down any need of wanting more from life 99% of days.

However, when you're good at listening, you observe things much better and you learn things faster. And subconsciously, reader has been observing a lot of things about Velaris (including the IC). I'm not sure where this would lead but this is probably the only real skill they have; being a good observer and learner.

I leave the rest to you. I was thinking pairing them with Azriel (since he would probably understand her better) but I'm open to any modifications.

Also, just an afterthought, I've always wondered what job I would love to have in a fantasy world (and I don't know if this counts as an actual job) but something like observing the sky/stars to look for any forthcoming events sounds really cool. So I guess reader could do that since major events happen don't happen once in a hundred years or something which ultimately makes their job very boring. However, they love it because who wouldn't love spending their whole night star-gazing (potential date idea?? YESS).

Sorry this became way longer than I intended. I wouldn't judge if you chose not to write on it. Thanks & have a great day :)

Am I boring? | Azriel X boring F reader

A/N: Hiii! Tysm for your ask. I hope I captured what you were imagining right. 💖

summary: You’re a star mapper. And you’re boring with no hope of love. Or at least you believed that until Azriel came along.

1.2k words

warnings: no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, cussing??, romance?? That’s it?? I think?

The stars shined brighter tonight. Since you were a little girl, you had always been fascinated by them. How they sparkled. They were interesting, and beautiful- unlike you. Maybe that’s why you clung onto them.

You pulled a piece of parchment from your bag, and started mapping the stars. Rhysand, the highlord of the night court, had invited you to his court to observe and map stars from this part of the world. You accepted, wanting some change. Even if you knew it wouldn’t be much of a difference to you. The inner circle was more than nice to you, and you appreciated it.

Laughter bubbled from behind you. You currently sat with your telescope on the balcony of the House of Wind. This was your third week here. Rhysand had offered you a permanent place here in the night court, but you were yet to accept. You didn’t fit in. You were a background character. A random star mapper, a job would probably never be much of use to anyone. Except weird star fanatics. Aka you. You were sure he only offered you a place here because of pity.

The inner circle seemed to really like you, and whether that was because of your quiet and shy nature, or the fact you always listened and gave great advice, or the fact you always laughed to try and fit in even if you didn’t quite understand the joke, you didn’t know. The only one who seemed to see past your mask of people pleasing was the Shadowsinger.

Anytime you ‘laughed’ at Cassian’s jokes, he was always there, smirking with a known look at you. As if he knew you. As if he had known you your whole life. Azriel had seemed curious about you. It was uncomfortable. Nobody had ever been curious about you. Everyone always enjoyed someone that they could talk to about themselves for hours. But he was the one always interrupting the other members of the inner circle to question you, on you. And your own life. And sadly you didn’t have many answers other than, “oh I don’t know.”

It made you feel weird at how interested he seemed in you. It made you feel awkward. But you knew he would lose interest once he really discovered there wasn’t actually much to you. You were a bore.

“Those stars are named Arktos, Carynth, and Oristes. They shine above that mountain for a week once a year during the blood rite.” A voice said beside you. You flinched as you noticed Azriel sitting directly by you, his shadows swirling around you both. He was always appearing out of nowhere. He handed you a plate of cake.

“Courtesy of Elain. She baked dessert tonight.” Azriel said, lifting a bite of his cake to his mouth and chewing on it.

“Oh.” You responded, setting the plate down beside you. You quickly labeled the stars on your parchment. They were beautiful.

“Do you like cake?” He questioned.

You paused and stared blank at him.

“I’m not sure?” You responded, fiddling with your hands. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Azriel smiled at you knowingly. Loud laughter boomed from the room behind you two. He looked right at you with piercing amber eyes that seemed annoyed. As if he had noticed you flinching from the loud sounds.

“Come with me? Just trust me.” He whispered, grasping your hand gently with caution. It was sudden. And you weren’t sure. You didn’t know him much. How could you trust him? But something in your body and soul screamed yes. Why not? It was risky- but life was boring.

“Okay.” You responded, gasping as he pulled you close, his wings wrapping you close to him, and his shadows swarming around you both before all of a sudden you were now standing on a cliff. Oh gods. His hands were on your hips gently, his wings spread wide, letting you see the view.

You both stood on a cliff that overlooked a waterfall and river. The moon reflected in the water and the stars did too, creating a mirror effect. It was probably the most gorgeous sight you had ever seen.

“Its- it’s…” Your words fumbled, mouth open in shock. “Beautiful..” you whispered. His breath was hot against your ear.

“Very.” He whispered back. When you looked at him he wasn’t even looking at the view. His eyes were glued on you. And he was looking at you as if you were a goddess. Azriel’s eyes softened, with adoration. It scared you. Nobody had ever looked at you like that. With a blush you realized he was holding you like a lover. He smirked at you as if knowing you just realized it.

Azriel slowly let go and used his wing to guide you to turn around. Blankets and pillows were on the ground. Like a picnic but a nest. His shadows swirled excitedly around the set up. He guided you gently to the set up, helping you sit down before sitting beside you.

“Do you want your mapping materials? My shadows can retrieve them for you. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to just relax and enjoy this night or continue star mapping.” He murmured.

You thought for a second. This was odd. Was this a date? Or did he do this with all of his friends? Did you want to map or did you want to enjoy this night with him?

“No it’s okay.” You replied, eyes glued to the stars above. They were much clearer from this view then from the House of Wind. You guess the city lights blurred them out. But here? They were in their full glory.

“Why did you bring me here?” He seemed to pause before responding.

“My shadows told me you might be leaving soon. This is my attempt at convincing you to stay here. In the night court. With your mate.” Azriel confessed.

He watched your eyebrows furrow.

“Mate? I don’t have a mate-“ you panicked.

His wings cocooned you and his arm enveloped you. It was like he could sense your panic. He rocked you back and forth like a child. And it was comforting.

“I’m your mate. I’ve known since I’ve met you. I thought I would have more time to get to know you and the bond would snap for you, but then my shadows informed me of your soon departure.”

You swallowed, throat bobbing. You blinked a few times. “There isn’t anything about me to get to know.” You replied harshly. Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. Shadows swirled around you both, some tendrils caressing you.

“Don’t say that. I know it isn’t true. Everyday I learn something new about you. I don’t care what you say, you are the most interesting person I’ve ever met.” He said, words much louder and firmer now. He thinks you’re interesting?

“Stay. Stay with me. Let me get to know you. I don’t expect you to accept the bond anytime soon. But give me- give us a chance.” Azriel said, wings tightening around you both. His eyes bore into you, with a fierce and loving look in them. You couldn’t help but soften in his hold.

You realized then, you deserved love. And for once a belonging feeling overwhelmed your senses.

“I’ll stay.”

Hope you guys enjoyed 💗

#azriel #acosf #acotar #imagine #x reader #acotar 5 #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #acotar series #Azriel imagine #reader insert #azriel x reader fluff #fluff

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reesespeanutbutterfuck · 5 months ago

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love marks & battle scars

[rival! enemy! ken sato x baseball teammate! undercover KDF agent! reader]

part 1

drabble | part 2

pairing: kenji sato x reader

cw: sfw for now, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hardcore!intimidating!reader, matsui’s daughter!reader, cursing, minimal details are changed to fit into the storyline, ken and reader will get kinda freaky eventually, spicy themes, allusions to sex, mdni u have been warned !!! don make me come for u D:< !!!, girldad!kenji, reader becomes emi’s mother figure, goofy ahhhh writing as usual

a/n: ch one takes place in ken's first game in the beginning btw

ken sato, your egotistical new teammate has been ticking you off and thinning your patience, being a threat to your place in yomiuri giants.

ultraman, your nemesis who always gets in the way of your job in the kdf, that you only joined in hopes of finding leads and getting clues to track your parents.

and somehow you even ended up being a co-parenting his… kaiju daughter. something you never signed up for.

What beautiful, festive night with clear skies it is tonight.

After lazily strolling through the back of the arena, Ken finally found his way to the open door leading to the bleachers, where he can already see the bright lights inside the dome and hear the cheers of the lively crowd. He elatedly took a deep breath before he entered the arena through the entrance that led him to his designated team, all in the middle of having an adrenaline rush.

It was his first time playing as a member of the Yomiuri Giants. Very exciting. There really is nothing that gives his system a fulfilling rush than baseball.

Ah, what a nice night to–

“Oi, Sato!”

Be nagged. Great way to prepare for a game.

“He-hey! Shimura!” with a smug smile, he merrily raised to greet Shimura like how an old friend would to another. “Nice team. Is the place for Captain open? Because I’d love to take you up on that.”

Shimura annoyedly narrowed his eyes at him. “Lucky you, it’s open, and also unlucky you, because that spot is good as reserved this season.”

Ken slightly tilted his head, “What’cha mean by reserved?”

“Technically, the Captain of last season would still be the unofficial Captain of this season until a new one gets decided. And I don’t plan to replace my current Captain anytime. Unless someone in the team can surpass them. Only the best players in my team are chosen as the Captain.”

He registered the information he heard. Just like an heir to a throne. A King. That sure sounds nice.

“So, this former Captain-current unofficial Captain of yours has been the team Captain for consecutive seasons? Then, that must’ve only meant he’s unbeatable. He better watch his back if he wants to maintain his streak.” now that he’s here, surely not.

Shimura failed to contain the slight smirk that plastered itself on one side of his lips. In the side of his face that is out of Ken’s line of vision, so Ken doesn’t see. He thinks, clearly he doesn’t know what he’s saying nor who he's dealing with.

“I’ll introduce you to the acting Captain of this team as a formality.” he chose to play it cool and not push it further, it’d be better if he observes you himself.

“Where’s [L/N]?” Shimura asked the busy team, getting their attention to him and Ken because of the mention of the last name. He scanned the team, seemingly looking for someone yet guessing from his furrowed brows and craning of his neck, it seems that the acting Captain that he’s looking for isn’t here.

“Arrived not a while ago. Still at the back, Coach.” one of his teammates in the middle of tying their shoelaces answered and jerked their thumb towards the door trailing to the locker room.

“It'll have to wait later, then.” Shimura acknowledged, “By the way, about your little imaginary advertisement title during the PressCon. Just to remind you again, no place for your so-called Ken Sato Show in my team. So don't try me.” Shimura warned him while pointing his index finger on his chest.

Ken raises both of his hands defensively forcing laughter. “Okay, okay. Got it.”

Ken’s attention drifted to someone emerging straight to the team out of nowhere, wearing a dark tinted helmet and a motorcycle jacket.

“[L/N], about time.” Shimura turned his head to you in relief. In Ken’s point of view, it’s like your arrival meant the team was saved. Looks like even Shimura has his favorites. Too bad you’re going to be dethroned soon. “Did you forget your batting helmet so you wore a motorcycle helmet instead?” Shimura pointed out your outlandish attire.

You let out a muffled snicker under your helmet. You held the helmet with your hands to take it off. Ken waited to see the face of his newfound rival under the helmet, fully expecting a man, preparing to say something to assert dominance over you. His expectant smile dropped when after you removed your helmet and shook your head to free your hair, the moment your hair flowed and his eyes lay on your face, was also the moment he realized...

You were not a man.

The Captain of the Giants… is a woman?

What the f–

Well, he wasn’t trying to be sexist or anything. No, no, not at all. He knows a lot of strong women in his life and his mother would be just one of many. He acknowledges women are just as capable as men. It’s just, it’s been so long since he was last updated with the Giants even before he got in. First reason is because he really doesn’t care about the identities of his future teammates. And second, because he, what’s the term? Lost interest in them when he cut off everything associated with Japan, because it reminded him of his dad who traded him and his mother to the Ultraman gig. Gosh, how long has it been?

“Where did you come from?”

“Audience’s entrance. Your interviewers are camped in the corridor on the way to the locker rooms.” You tossed your helmet to the nearby bench.

My god, not even your height or the way your physique looked under your baggy jacket gave away the fact that you were a woman.

Ken, after a moment of being taken aback by your appearance, straightened himself subtly when you glanced at him for a few seconds. He’s not nervous, is he? Of course not. No one ever makes him, the Ken Sato nervous. He fought the urge to hit his own head with his palm. For god’s sake, Kenji, snap out of it.

“Who’s this?” Your tired eyes shift from him to Shimura. You don't know him? Once again, you did it. The fact that you didn’t know him added to the damage you did to his ego.

He observed you closely. You had a stern expression, sharp eyes, a prim, somewhat almost restrained appearing composure and a low, sultry voice. He does admit, your intimidating aura really does reflect that of a leader. Oddly attractive.

Yet not enough to distract him from his goal.

“Your new teammate, Ken Sato.” Shimura answered with his hand gesturing toward Ken. “Sato, this is our consecutive Captain, [Y/N L/N].” Shimura introduces you to him.

Shimura’s words echoed in Ken’s ear. “only the best players are chosen as the Captain”, You’re the best player of this team. You, in front of him, right now.

“Nice to meet you, Captain.” Ken forced a smile, trying to pull himself together.

Your eyes went back to him after, he can tell you’re sizing him up. It didn't take long before Ken got lost in his thoughts again. You had a sharp gaze, one that if it were possible to kill, he would be down lying on the floor. Your gaze almost even looks like a glare already.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when after moments of not moving, you walked towards his direction. He expectantly prepared himself mentally to converse with you, but he was beyond shocked when you walked past him.

What…

What?

Did that really just happen? It did. The proof was the trail of your scent you left walking past him. Your perfume smelled musky, yet also sweet. Not painful to the nose.

He’d lie if he said he wasn’t expecting you to interact with him, welcome him in your team or initiate anything, anything at all. But you just… didn’t care? Shouldn’t Team Captains, even acting ones greet new teammates? If he were the Captain he’d do it. Is this how they welcome teammates in Tokyo? He had never been this humbled in his whole life.

Shimura didn’t have any reaction, as if it was just what he had already expected from you. You sat at your team’s side of the bleachers to change your shoes and wear your face guard, not even looking back in their direction to even lay your eyes on him again. Ken still cannot believe what had just happened. He’s stupid for expecting, and you’re clearly not friendly, and it’s fine. He can take that.

On the bench, you stifled a yawn. If you yawn freely, Shimura would notice it with his hawk eyes and nag you asking why’d you tire yourself out before a game and of course you cannot disclose why. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today because of the aftermath of your discreet job outside baseball. Neronga was a resistant one, you’d say. If Ultraman hadn’t meddled with your mission, you would’ve finished the job sooner and you would’ve had enough rest.

“Yo, Captain.” one of your teammates, Otomo, approached you.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You were the Captain last season, and surely you’ll still be in this one.”

You glared at him and diverted your attention to your shoelaces without replying.

“What’d you think about our new teammate?” Nothing but a show-off. “Heard a while ago Sato over there was also aiming for the same title.” Otomo gestured his head to Sato.

Your hands continued tying your laces. You’d like a healthy competition. Whatever he wants. You don’t care about the Captain title on its own, anyway. You only care about being Captain because it meant you were the best out of everyone in the team. While Sato was changing in the locker room, you stood up after you finished wearing and fixing your baseball gear.

You were fixing the soles of your shoes when your vision caught some of your teammates piling up while watching something on their mobile phones. Some of them seemed to be genuinely fanboying on Sato and some of them didn't like him. You? You're part of the latter, like these guys.

“[L/N], it’s Sato’s PressCon last night. Come watch with us. He claimed himself the greatest active player.” you overheard as they kept replaying that one part over and over and laughing. You were right. That Sato is conceited. And he’s not even subtle about it.

Greatest active player, huh. You’d like to see if he can walk his talk.

Before the game started, Shimura called you all to discuss the sequence. And you and Sato were accidentally placed beside each other.

“You lead.” Shimura points at your direction. You weren't sure who, because Sato was placed little more in front of you.

“Coach, do you mean, me?” You clarified.

“No, Sato.” he pointed at the new guy, Sato. “You’re first one up. Bat.”

Your narrow eyes focused on this Sato guy. You sized him up once again. Usual pretty boy, pretty face, but petty attitude. What’s special about him? First impressions, off. But, you do have to see how he plays first to judge him.

“He’s the best player in his former team. Let him lead.”

You wordlessly retreated and stepped back to give way to the players. You stared at his back containing his jersey number, Sato, number seven.

Meanwhile in front, Ken fights the urge to look at you. “Don’t worry guys, I’m about to change this team’s trajectory just tonight.” he confidently walked off with the same cocky smile.

Although it’s a bummer he won’t get the chance to watch you play first, he took the opportunity and stepped inside the court. He took his mind off of everything not inside the court. He has to focus. This is his time to prove himself.

You do want to be the best, but you don’t always expect to be the best. There’s a fine line that differs between those two. Although, yes, your father would be displeased if he finds out you’re anything but the best. But if he's always a show-off, then you already have that advantage over him. He isn’t a formidable competition at all.

The crowd screeched when his face went all over the jumbotron's LED screen. While in the point of view of the audience, it’s very noticeable how he seemed uncomfortable with his left shoulder. Looks like it isn’t just you who has a skill issue today. He still had the strength to bicker with the catcher from the other team, though. He’ll be fine.

The game began, the pitcher pitched. He missed. The second pitch, he missed again.

Your face crumpled. You made a point once again. He, in fact, can’t walk his talk. You crossed your arms and sank your back against the backrest of the bench. You’ve lost interest in the game.

Disappointing.

For the third time, the pitcher pitches, and for the last chance that he had, he hit the ball. Oh, lucky is he. The crowd goes wild, the commentator announces the successful bat and the giant screen shows his face. Even if he batted successfully on the third, it didn’t reverse the disappointment you felt now that you can judge him. He then came running the bases.

You looked away and rested your chin against your palm with crossed legs, not paying attention to the game, but all of a sudden, your eyes caught something familiarly strange flying outside the dome.

Is that…

You squinted to see clearly, and when you saw it again, your eyes widened. It vanished again for a while, but your sighting of KDF jets told you everything you needed to know to confirm what it was. You flinched in your seat when one of the KDF jets crashed and exploded near the dome, interrupting the game, also startling the people inside the dome who were now instinctively starting to evacuate the area. In the middle of the flames of the explosion, the creature emerged and showed itself clearly, just exactly as the one you suspected.

“Gigantron.” You and Ken mouthed at the same time, from different spots inside the dome.

The creature roars, frightening people even more. Everything was chaos, like that of a dystopia. People were pushing each other in the exits to get out of the dome as soon as possible. You stood up from your seat, picked your helmet up from the bottom bench, not turning your back on Gigantron, you pushed the door with your palm to the nearest exit. You pushed your way through the waves of people until you reached your motorcycle outside.

You revved the engine and sped up en route to the KDF headquarters. You need to get there before the last jet takes off.

—

In the dim-lit interior of the KDF Headquarters, Chief Officer Dr. Onda silently watches the monitor screen.

Aoshima, the KDF Captain hurriedly went to him after the difficult situation unfolded. “Sir, we have an emergency. Gigantron has ambushed our jets and taken it down. The package cannot be tracked, as of now.”

“Is Saturnine inside the headquarters right now?”

“Uh, Agent Saturnine is currently off-duty tonight, Sir.” Aoshima responded, wondering why out of everyone, he specifically asked about Saturnine.

Dr. Onda exhales and doesn't reply further. He maintained his stoned expression under his aviators. Once again, he focused on the monitor cameras showing the chaos the Gigantron made.

His forehead creases in distress. “Scramble all jets. Kill Gigantron. Do what you can to retrieve the package.” he orders his personnel.

“Yes, sir.”

***

incomp taglist (do comment if u wanna be added): @moonjellyfishie @aise-30 @lovingyeet @ririkacchi

#ken sato x you #kenji sato fluff #ken sato x y/n #ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato #kenji sato brainrot #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman x reader #ken sato imagine #ken sato drabble #netflix #ultraman netflix #ken sato smut #smut #ken sato fluff #fluff

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frickinsleepdeprived · 4 months ago

Text

Ride or Die Part 1

Sanemi x Fem! Reader - Motorcycle Club AU

Word Count: 9.4K

TW: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT - READ THE DAMN WARNINGS BEFORE READING P L E A S E: Mentions of violence ● school fights ● blood ● so much fucking blood ● domestic violence ● hospitals ● alcohol ● marijuana ● vaping/smoking ● reader being a stubborn bitch ● Sanemi being even more of a stubborn bitch ● so much fucking angst ● Sanemi has unpleasant memories of a lost loved one ● readers going through some shit-

CW: MINORS DNI - Reader has a wet dream and gets herself off in her sleep in Sanemi’s room (and Sanemi hopelessly watches, therefore by extension, voyeurism.)

A/N: HOLY FUCKING SHIT ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME- After promising this *checks calendar and cringes* New Years of this year and April of this year, I’m finally done with the first part of this multipart fic! No explicit smut in this part unfortunately, this is mostly about the opening dynamics between Sanemi and Reader. Smut, however, will definitely come in the next part hehehe- enjoy! I hope I didn’t disappoint with this lol

...

The moment she opened her eyes, she couldn't register anything. It was dark, darker than the abyss of her mind as her mind slowly manifested into consciousness.

Though (Y/N)’s head was still foggy, she was able to figure out where she was. She was in a car, an SUV at that. Two women hunched over here trying to keep her bleeding at bay and her mind focused on something else. Her immediate thoughts were simple.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Hey, can you hear me? Are you awake?” One female voice called out, it sounds like she's crying, more than likely she was worried. Another female voice scolded the other.

“Are you blind?! Of course she's awake! She's just not able to comprehend anything right now, Suma. And if she is, it's a damn miracle.” The voice, deadpan and flat, was from another woman. “Besides, it's not like she's in any position to answer questions anyway.”

“No no, ask all the questions you can. Get as much information as possible, Makio. The more the better.” Another female voice called out from the front passenger seat. Her voice soothing and calm, one could only assume she had the patience of a saint. “Tengen, love, can you make this go any faster?”

“There's a problem with that, Hinatsuru. Last time I was speeding with Kyojuro in the back after he got in a fight with Seis Lunas, I got pulled over for doing forty over the speed limit. Like, yeah, the cop was cool and all, let me off with a warning. But still, not risking it.”

That name…

That fucking name.

“Wh-what?! What the hell?! Where am I?!” (Y/N) sat up immediately. That name, Seis Lunas, wasn't something to be taken lightly. That name was the very foundation of her pain. The catalyst for her suffering and the only reason why she's in the situation she's in now. “WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S THAT FUCKING BASTARD?!” her mind turned to one thing; fight or flight. And it looks like she chose to fight. The two women in the backseat holding her down to the seat and trying to calm her down as best as they can.

“Makio do something!” Suma cried out, struggling to keep (Y/N) from not only injuring herself more, but from trying to keep herself and her sister-wife from getting punched in the face

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ANYTHING SUMA SHES FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!” Makio screamed, restraining both of the injured girl’s wrists and holding them down. (Y/N)’s tears making her feel a hint of remorse.

“Well try something!” Suma retorted, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt as she pressed hard on (Y/N)’s thigh, causing the poor woman to yelp in pain. “Aaaaaahhhh I’m sorry-!”

Their bickering and arguing only caused (Y/N)’s state of mind to worsen. The tears streaming out of her eyes proved that she was not only trying to keep her screams of pain at bay, but she was also terrified- no, she was mortified.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” The male shouted, both of the women quieting at a moment's notice. “Alright, here's what the fuck we're doing. Makio, Suma, keep the lady's bleeding stable. Hina, start asking questions, and you,” He pointed to (Y/N) in the backseat, his voice turning calm, yet still stern as ever. “Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. We're taking you to a hospital.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. The last place she needed to be, of all places, was a damn hospital. “No, you don't get a say. No, you don't get to just fight us on this. This is happening, because it'll be hell or high water if we don't get you some help.” His tone was final, as if no one could argue with him.

Going to a hospital meant many things; healthcare, security, stability, and of course, a chance to get better in peace. But this?

This would be anything but peaceful.

“No… no no no please-” (Y/N) protested softly. Sweat began to collect on her brow and her hands started to shake. Makio kept a hand on her forehead while Suma suppressed the bleeding.

“Whoa whoa, hey. It's okay, you're going to be fine. The doctors and nurses at Saint Tamayo are amazing, Hina would know, she works there. You've got nothing to worry about.” Makio tried to soothe her.

“No! You don't understand, if I go, he'll find me. He's got eyes everywhere, there's no way I can stay under the radar.” (Y/N) started to panic. She never went to hospitals for that reason. She was used to treating her wounds on her own, let alone fighting for her life.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tengen commented.

“Sure?” Her head tilted to the side as (Y/N) gave him an unsure confirmation.

“Does this have anything to do with Seis Lunas?” The albino man asked, his maroon eyes flashing in the rear view mirror at her. The mere name alone sent her into a state of panic, but it was a silent panic. The kind where one would freeze, then look away. The one where it would make someone unsure of what to say, but their body language and expressions said it all. “Hinatsuru-”

“I'm calling Windbreaker and Ouroboros right now.” Windbreaker? Ouroboros? If these people are who (Y/N) thinks it is, then she's in for a lot more than she bargained for. “Hey, we're stepping on the gas. Seems like this girl is involved with some sort of domestic situation with the Kizuki, and it doesn't look good either… yeah,” she looked to Tengen “Step on the fucking gas, we have to get there before the Kizuki do.”

“Where to?” Tengen replied, his voice unsure and worried. (Y/N) speaking up before Hinatsuru could.

“I told you guys once, and I'll say it again, if I go to a hospital, he will find me and I will be dead!” Her voice was hoarse, the pain becoming too much to bear. One more moment in this car and she'll more than likely die from stress alone than the actual blood loss. Hinatsuru gave her a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. “I… I get you guys are trying to help and I get that it's important I get the proper medical care but I'm fine-”

“You are anything but fine! You’re going to a goddamn hospital and that is final!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, picking up speed and rushing towards Saint Tamayo hospital. “Do you know what kind of condition we found you in? You were covered in sweat and vomit, you went into shock. You're not fine and you're going to the hospital. And I swear to God if you try and back out of this again, I'll personally see to it that you're restrained to the fucking gurney once we get there. Got it?”

“That's unsettling!” (Y/N) shrieked, her voice strained with tears and horror. Makio sighed and held her close, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple, all platonic.

And that's when everything got faster, and everything turned dark.

…

A young albino man sped on his motorcycle on the highway. A determined, seemingly menacing look on his face as he rode alongside a fellow biker- a group of them, actually.

It was times like this when he was more focused than he was with his own day job. Going ninety on the highway when he knew the speed limit was sixty-five. He could easily get pulled over by one of those state troopers if he and his fellow riders aren’t careful. Yet, that doesn’t stop him, because this is personal for him.

Needless to say, he doesn’t like to hear about domestic violence. Not that he doesn’t care, because he does, deeply. But the thought of a woman being beaten by a man. He was raised better than that.

And by God if he doesn’t do something about it now, it’ll be the end of his pride.

Skidding and drifting on the asphalt of the highway, he took an exit and slowed to a halt at the light. Finding the time to open his helmet shield and take a hit off of his vape. The strong, raspberry and pineapple scented smoke wafting in the chill of the fall night, causing him to sigh as he quickly put the cancerous device back into his pocket and closed his shield. Revving his engine, he sped off as the light turned green, making his way to Saint Tamayo with the rest of the group riding with him.

Maybe this time, he’d be able to save someone. Albeit it’s someone he doesn’t know, but at least it's a life saved… hopefully.

…

Her kicks and screams resounded at the entrance of the emergency room. Her fighting was rough, and unfair.

(Y/N) was a scrapper, a dirty one at that. Even through the blood loss and the injuries she had, she could still put up one hell of a fight despite seeing black. Not red, black.

“Dammit! You’re going to injure yourself more if you keep fighting!” Makio struggled to get her out of the SUV. Holding onto (Y/N)’s underarms as Hinatsuru and Suma took hold of her legs. Tengen’s hands gently restraining the injured woman’s wrists as they loaded her into a wheelchair.

Though, (Y/N)’s efforts proved to be vain and futile; becoming far too stressed. Nurses and doctors rushed out to see what was wrong, and upon seeing the state of her injuries, they had no choice but to take the poor soul in. (Y/N) kicked, punched, writhed and squirmed the entire time the hospital staff took her to the back. A group of motorcycles pulled up in the parking lot and walked briskly to the quartet waiting at the entrance of the emergency room.

“About damn time you showed up Windbreaker. Where the hell were you?” Tengen sighed deeply, running a hand through his silken white hair. Windbreaker took off his helmet, exposing his scarred face to the bitter chill of the night. His leather jacket is not doing much to shield him from the cold either. The rest of the riders took off their helmets as well, most of them male, but two of them female.

“Well, trafficks fucking horrendous. Not to mention, state troopers are everywhere tonight. I’m surprised that me and the rest of us didn’t get pulled over. But that's neither here nor there.” Windbreaker spoke casually, watching the taller albino and three ladies in front of him light a cigarette. “And you get onto me for vaping, hypocrite.”

“Hey, this is stressful, cut me and the ladies some damn slack.” Tengen sighed, taking a heavy drag and exhaling deeply. “How’d you even come across her anyways? Were you and Ouroboros just out riding around or something?”

“Man, we watched the poor girl crash.” A ravenette cut in, his short hair tied into a small ponytail at the dead middle of the back of his head and a mask concealing his nose and mouth. A pink haired cutie in a pair of denim short-shorts, a white crop top, a pair of riding boots, and a leather vest attached to his hip. “We don’t know where the black eye, bruised knuckles, and the cut on her thigh came from though. However, we’re thinking it’s some sort of domestic from what we all heard over the phone.” He spoke grimly, a cold and distant look in his eyes as he spoke of (Y/N), gripping his female companion tighter by the hip as he sighed.

“Well, the way she spoke of Seis Lunas earlier makes it seem like it is domestic. She was practically hollering and begging us to not take her here. Like, yeah, she acknowledged she needs the attention for her wounds, but she did mention something about how Sies will come around at some point, he’ll find her and kill her is what she said.” Makio chimed in, throwing her cigarette butt on the pavement and stomping it out. “Woman’s so stubborn that she started fighting us in the backseat, but she was too weak to get any real licks in.”

“Well, that comes as part of being involved with the Kizuki, I guess.” Windbreaker spoke with a snort, taking another drag from his vape as a few of the other riders went into the waiting room of the ER. “But regardless, the priority here is this chick and what the hell happened to her. I’m betting she has a concussion too, she wasn’t really smart with the way she was riding earlier. No helmet, no protective gear.”

“Maybe she was in a rush?” The pink haired girl spoke up, “I mean, if it's a domestic like we’re suspecting, then chances are she was just trying to get away from her aggressor quickly regardless of any implicated consequences.” The men nodded in agreement, they had to admit, despite her being a bit of a bubbly, happy-go-lucky girl, she’s got her wits about her. “Not to mention, no one would ride like that if it wasn’t serious.”

“That much is true… anyways, we should probably head in with the rest. I’m sure they’re getting the rundown on her injuries right now.” Windbreaker spoke up, watching the others put out their cigarettes and hide away their vapes. Some of them had flasks, making him shake his head in disapproval.

Maybe this time he can save the poor soul he found on the side of the road. But from the looks of it right now, (Y/N) won’t be recovering anytime soon.

After all, extensive injuries like that don’t just heal overnight.

…

About a week had passed and (Y/N) was, arguably, in worse shape than she was before. Eye still blue and black- slowly turning yellow, her scars stitched up and wrapped heavily. A few broken ribs and a concussion, but expected to make a full recovery. Still and unconscious in an ICU room, Windbreaker stood by her bedside, and not once did he want to leave. Doctor or nurse came in to check on (Y/N)? He was right in the corner watching silently. Anytime anyone else was in the room, he made sure he was there so that way nothing would go south- and god forbid anything happen, lest someone wanted to face the lilac eyed man’s wrath.

(Y/N), on the other hand, was oblivious to the man’s presence. When she came to, she gave him a look of confusion. “Wh- who?-” she was cut short by his quick interjection.

“Eh, just the guy that saved your life. You’re lucky I caught you in time, well, me and the others did.” The albino spoke softly, yet something in his voice sounded stern. “You’re also lucky you didn’t die.”

“Well excuse me macho, but I didn’t need saving.” (Y/N)’s curt response stirred a slight annoyance in him, though, he couldn’t help but be strangely amused at her sharp tongue and cold words. “If anything, he’s-” once again, (Y/N) was cut off.

“He’s gonna find you and he’s gonna kill you? Yeah, I heard that whole rant on the phone sweetcheeks.”

“...Sweetcheeks?” The disdain in her voice was palpable, dripping with scorn and offense, yet she couldn’t help but blush at the thought of being called such an endearing name. Yet she knew such sweet words could be laced with the most bitter of intentions. “I- I’m not sweet, dammit!”

“Well, maybe not sweet, but definitely helpless, at least for the moment.” He spoke candidly, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair by the woman’s bedside. “Your bikes totaled too, I’m not sure if it can be salvaged either.”

“Goddammit- okay, who are you? Name, please, I can’t be talking to strangers right now, my psyche can’t handle it.” (Y/N)’s voice sounded hoarse, likely from the screaming she was doing last night. The man sighed, running his hand through the mess of silver locks on his head, he was losing himself in his mind. Plagued with thoughts the last time something like this happened… the last time he couldn’t save someone like her.

“Name’s Windbreaker.” he spoke with finality, “I ride with the hashira, as if the patches on my vest weren’t a dead give away already. You crashed last night, like I said, your bikes totaled and more than likely scrap at this point. You’re extremely lucky to be alive, but you’re also kinda dumb for driving the way you were.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at his comments, scoffing slightly as she rubbed her sore eyes, wincing slightly when she touched them.

“Well, Windbreaker, when you’re trying to get away from an abusive ex like Seis Lunas, you don’t have a choice but to ride fast. Whether I ended up dead or alive is a different story.” The last of her strength was used to hoist herself up, but only to fail when she tried with all her might to use her upper body strength. Flopping back onto the mattress, her head hitting the pillow, letting out a defeated sigh as she looked over at him. She drank in the sight of him, her eyes narrowing in recognition, but she wouldn’t dare say anything about it, at least not yet. The real question is why the hell he looked so familiar. “Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

“Because I was raised better than the scum of the earth that decided to do this to you. Besides, why the hell would I just let you die anyways? That’s blatant negligence on my end.” He crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation. Did she really think she wasn’t worth saving, that she wasn’t worth anyone’s time? It only made him wonder how much Seis Lunas had broken her down and rebuilt her in his image. “Did I mention that you’re also quite the fighter?”

“Yeah, you kinda have to be in this cruel world.” (Y/N) sighed as she spoke, looking at the IV that’s lodged into her hand. “As soon as I get out of here, it's back into hiding.”

“Hiding? Where?” His eyebrows raised in intrigue, but his concern outweighed his curiosity, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “This town isn’t exactly big, you know.” He sighed softly, tilting his head.

“Wherever the hell is farthest from town. Might go two counties over if I’m honest.” She spoke with yet another resigned sigh. It was as if she was giving into whatever her circumstances threw at her. Which honestly, was quite sad in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but… don’t you have a place to go? Family? Friends?” His voice grew solemn.

“Family lives out of state, as far as friends go, I have none of them. Seis asserted his “dominance” and drove all of them away. Now I’m just out of touch with all of them.” This… this hurt Windbreaker, hard. It was like someone put him in her place. At this rate, he hurt for her.

He might just bleed for her.

…

Weeks followed, then about a month and a half. After (Y/N) had been discharged from the hospital and started physical therapy, he hadn’t heard anything from her since. With every passing night, the bitter chill seemed to get even colder as Windbreaker thought about her. He would stay up at night, haunted by the things she told him about Seis Lunas.

“Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

That one stung the most, if anything, it tore his heart in two. And though he probably shouldn’t be thinking about her, because she was only saved out of what he felt was obligation, he couldn’t help it. After all, a woman’s safety, to him, was probably the most precious thing he keeps close to himself. But a snap of someone’s fingers alerted his senses elsewhere. A certain masked ravenette staring down at him with cold eyes.

“You’re thinking about her again.” He spoke, his eyebrow raised as he stood in the doorway of the silverette’s room within the confines of the Hashira clubhouse. With a heavy sigh, Ouroboros leaned on the doorframe of Windbreaker's room. “Let her go, man, she likely doesn't want to see any of us again. I mean, unless you want to be a creep and go find her.”

“It's not being a creep if it's a welfare check. I know you'd do the same for L'Amour if she was in that girl's position.” Windbreaker sighed, sitting up shirtless from where he was laying on his bed. Picking up a black muscle shirt and slipping it on. “Where are we meeting for church?”

“Dive bar downtown, it's usually pretty empty on Sundays so everything we're gonna talk about should be safe and sound.” The ravenette took his hair down to re-tie it. “And after all is said and done, I'm getting L'Amour to cut my hair.” Ouroboros sighed and crossed his arms, one gold eye and the other blue looking at Windbreakers lilac ones. “If you happen to come across that girl, though, offer the clubhouse to her or something. I'm sure Mariposa wouldn't mind feeding her or anything.”

“She likely needs it, god knows where she is now.” The silverette rubbed the sleep from his eyes, putting on a pair of riding pants. “Matter of fact, I think I might go out now. Do a scan throughout town and see if I can find her.”

“You're really hellbent over this, aren't you? Isn't this what happened with-” Ouroboros was cut off by Windbreakers cold stare. “Nevermind… anyways, church is at seven at the dive bar downtown, don't be late.'' With that, Ouroboros walked out. Not a care in the ravenettes eyes as his footsteps thundered on the carpeted floor of the clubhouse. Windbreaker sighed deeply, setting out to ride around town for the girl he saved a few weeks back.

But he came up empty.

…

Stepping into the establishment, clad in a pair of dark jeans and an equally dark shirt with a pair of sunglasses, (Y/N) hoped no one would recognize her.

Many clubs, including the Kizuki and the Hashira, come to this particular bar for church. (Y/N) has always been to these meetings, but never allowed a chance to voice anything thanks to the Kizuki being a one-percenter club. Always left in the background, or attached to Seis Lunas’ hip with a drink in hand. (Y/N)’s car keys attached to one of her belt loops as she sat on a stool at the bar counter. The doctor told her not to drink, but it was her only hope at forgetting that horrible and damn near fatal night.

Part of her, however, winced as the bartender poured the amber brown, poisonous liquid into a glass with whiskey stones. Yet the other part was screaming “DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK-” As the young woman brought the class to her lips, a bitter euphoria overwhelmed her senses. The grainy, caramel scent comforted her mind as she downed the whole glass in one singular swig, not a damn given about the consequences. Over in the left of her peripheral vision stood the hashira motorcycle club. Perhaps they were having church, or maybe they all decided to get out of the clubhouse for an evening. Either way, (Y/N) kept her head low, making sure it wasn’t obvious that she may or may not be eavesdropping, even if it were a breach of privacy.

“Come on man, get over her. She’s likely out of the hospital and doing better. Besides, she’s probably far out of town anyways.” Tengen patted Windbreaker on the back, passing him a pint of whatever draft beer was in the glass. The silverette shook his head and pushed the glass away. “Still don’t drink? Man, you’re twenty-one goddamn years old! Live a little!”

“You know me, I don’t drink, and I won’t drink until Genya’s out of high school.” Windbreaker sighed, his silver hair unruly and a mess from the ride around town. Though, Tengen did have a point; he’s a grown man, what’s stopping him from drinking? Besides, his younger brother is old enough to take care of himself. But then he remembered what his brother had been through, and that was enough to make the lilac eyed man turn down alcohol, regardless of the occasion.

It was like that for three hours; three hours of Windbreaker turning down drinks and of (Y/N) actively avoiding the temptation to turn her gaze to the group of bikers. Of course, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she had been sipping on her third drink for a while now, lost deep in thought of where to go from here, until she got a call. “Hello? Yes, this is her… I’m sorry? Ah, I see, I’m on my way.” Stepping down from the barstool, (Y/N) quickly makes her way out of the bar, her movements quick and fluid- amid the pain of her injuries. It seems like someone was following her out, yet she paid no mind. Slipping into her car, she speeds off towards Kimetsu High, where she’s supposed to pick up two troublemakers that got into a fight. Of course she had to be the one the school called, Jim Jones was too neglectful to even do anything. Reyes was too busy- as was Seis Lunas. Spinjutsu, well, Spinjutsu just doesn’t want anything to do with that. So it’s up to (Y/N) to make sure the bullshit gets settled.

Only God knows what kind of trouble they’ve caused this time.

…

“I’m sorry you did what?!” The two kids in front of her; a girl with long platinum, green tipped hair and caked makeup and a boy with a scrawny, lean build, rolled their eyes and sighed deeply. “How many damn times do I have to tell you guys?! Stop. Getting. Into. Fights! You will be suspended or expelled, or at worst, arrested!” (Y/N) groaned at the thought, rubbing her sore eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. “Where are the kids you beat up? And don’t tell me they’re in the nurse's office.” The girl had a guilty look on her face. “Isis, what the fuck did you guys do?”

“Well, we had to teach them a lesson somehow.” The boy spoke up, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair, as if all of this was just normal. “And hell yeah, they’re in the nurse's office, and I bet that those hashira bastards are on their way to come pick them up now.” He had an almost proud look on his face, as did his female companion. The two siblings had always found a way to get themselves into trouble, whether it be minor or major things. They’ve always been troublemakers, even before (Y/N) came around.

A distinct voice came in through the door of the front office; male, gruff, and definitely pissed off. (Y/N) looked up from the two to face who it was, lo and behold it was Windbreaker. “Yes, I’m Genya Shinazugawa’s older brother. Now where is he?” He was practically interrogating the front desk clerk, who basically had no answers to his questions, and that only pissed him off more.

“The nurses office. I’m talking with the assailants right now, actually. Also, nice to see you again, I guess.” (Y/N) spoke up, her voice tired and frustrated, just like his. Windbreaker looked up at her, making a beeline in her direction. The look of rage in his eyes was palpable, but she knew it wasn’t for her. “Look, I know that this is unexpected, but I’ve got this.”

“Oh no, no no no. Your siblings or whatever the hell those two are, they’re gonna pay. They’re gonna pay double. Because no one, and I mean no one lays a damn finger on my brother.” He spoke sternly. “And by God if I have anything to say about it, I’d say lock those two the hell up if they’re not going to alternative school.” (Y/N) sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. This situation, on top of her injuries and meeting Windbreaker in unforeseen circumstances, was too much.

“I… I understand that. Believe me, if they were my blood siblings, I’d definitely make a decision on their behalf. But unfortunately, I’m not, so there’s very little that I could do legally. Rest assured though, I have all of this under control.” She winced at the pain in her black eye, a headache looming in her skull. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the principal and see what the hell those two will be going through as far as a punishment goes.” (Y/N) stepped into the principal’s office, shutting the door behind her and leaving the silverette out in the lobby.

The conversation didn’t last long, it was only a matter of time before (Y/N) learned that the two siblings wouldn’t be receiving a punishment at all, considering this was the first incident of the year. With a frustrated sigh, she snapped her fingers at the two siblings and motioned for them to follow her. But before she left, she passed Windbreaker a piece of paper. “If these two assholes cause you any other issues, call me.”

Windbreaker stared at the piece of paper and sighed deeply, nodding solemnly. “Will do, thanks.” He looked down at the contact information. “(Y/N) (L/N): (***) ***-****”

He would make sure to remember this.

…

It had been a while since that encounter, (Y/N) would receive calls here and there from Windbreaker, who’s contact name came up as “Sanemi”. She had assumed that was his real name, as if the name “Windbreaker” wasn’t enough evidence to it being an alias. “Look, all I’m saying is that Isis and Osiris are just… troubled. But that’s still no excuse for what they’ve done. And what's more, I’m not even their legal guardian, Jim Jones is.” Sanemi, on the other end, let out a scoff.

“Well, that explains a lot. He just lets those kids just run around and do whatever?” he asked, scrunching his face up in confusion. “Moreover, why the hell does Jim Jones of all people have custody of two teens anyways? That guy’s an internet cult leader and everyone knows it.”

“Alleged cult leader, but I have my suspicions also. No one really knows how he got custody of those two in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Where are you anyways? I hear something in the background.” (Y/N) spoke up, which caught Sanemi off guard, why is she so interested in him all of a sudden?

“Oh, uh, I’m at the hashira clubhouse. One of the members wanted me to offer it to you at the hospital once you got out. But you kinda went off the grid for a while afterwards, so I never got the chance. Where are you though? You sound like you’re outside or something.” He asked softly, concern lacing his voice despite not knowing her well enough to truly have the right to be truly worried.

“... weeeeellllllllll-” her voice trailed off, awkward and nervous before she was cut off by the silverette.

“Location, now.” He demanded, his voice stern and cold.

“And if I don’t?” (Y/N) scoffed, not taking him seriously.

“I’ll scour this entire town looking for you.” Sanemi concluded.

“I’d love to see you try.” She spoke confidently, as if challenging him to even try to get near her. She hung up, and just to humor him, gave him her location. There's no way he’d actually show up, right? “Not to mention, that's an awfully mighty claim for someone that barely knows me. What makes you think I’d go to someone else’s house when I barely know them?” Sanemi scoffed on the other end of the phone.

“Well, for one, rude. Two, I don’t have a house, at least not yet, working on that.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now, will you please drop your damn location so I don’t have a heart attack?” (Y/N) groaned softly at that… something about that noise roused something within Sanemi. It was wrong, so devastatingly wrong, he barely knows her. Why is he feeling so warm inside at the prospect of bringing her back with him?

“What has you so concerned, Sanemi? You only brought me to the hospital once, besides, it’s not like we’re dating. Unless I need to clarify that for you?” The woman’s tone was annoyed, and definitely not the warmest. “Look, I appreciate your concern and interest in me, that is if there’s any sort of interest or concern in the first place, but I’m okay-”

“You’re not fine, you hear me?! You’re still injured, you’re still being hunted by the Kizuki!” Sanemi snapped, sighing deeply as he threw on some sweatpants and a shirt. “Look, I’m not gonna let you be out there alone. So do me a favor, drop me your location so I can at least get you somewhere safer. You don’t have to come anywhere with me if you don’t want to. I get that I don’t know you very well and that's fine, but at least let me make sure you’re okay. Please?” There was something about his voice… it was desperate, that much (Y/N) could tell. But there was a hint of something else.

Was… was that longing she heard?

“I- you know what, fine. But don’t expect anything to come of this, because that’d be entirely by coincidence.” She sent him her precise location, which was a park on the other side of town.

“Are… are you fucking kidding me- That's it. Stay put, stay on the phone, I’m on my way. If one of those Kizuki fucks comes around then start running towards downtown, got it?” His voice was stern, a little too stern. It made (Y/N) roll her eyes again, but hearing him so riled up opened up her mind to other things also. She knew they were wrong, but dammit if it wasn't enticing.

“Sanemi I-” Her protests were in vain as Sanemi’s voice cut through.

“Got it?” The sound of a door slamming and a car starting made (Y/N)’s heart drop. His voice was demanding- almost too demanding as she heard his car speeding out of a parking lot. Of course there was no convincing this man otherwise, he’s far too stubborn, far too set in his ways to listen to anyone else’s opinion.

“... Alright, just uh, get here quick, I guess.” Her voice was unsure, but her mind was already seemingly made up, not by her own choice of course. With the way Sanemi spoke to her, it’s almost as if he cares. It’s eerily similar to the way Seis Lunas would talk to her, but this is different somehow. It has no malicious intention, at least she hopes it wouldn’t. He’s definitely hard to read, well, that's a lie. His intentions are obvious- painfully obvious. But (Y/N) just can’t shake the feeling of an ulterior motive, especially after everything Seis Lunas put her through; the rat bastard broke her, that much was evident. With a heavy sigh, she sits on a curb and sparks a blunt, inhaling on the Lord’s lettuce and exhaling in the same manner it went in- deep, sharp, and heavenly. The sangria flavored cigarillo wrap made it a little easier to smoke, though she had it in the back of her mind that she probably should’ve gotten a real tobacco leaf to smoke out of; but that's neither here nor there right now.

As she awaited the hot tempered silverette’s arrival, she contemplated her next move. Would she stay in town? Would she leave and never come back? Where would she go, knowing that her family is far away and friends were out of touch because of her association with the Kizuki, even if it is now former? (Y/N)’s mind raced, her heart heavy as the stress became too much to bear. The heartstrings were pulling, the tears pooled in her eyes- which she quickly wiped away. Reminding herself that she's a grown woman and capable of handling herself. She didn’t need a man, despite how she had to accustom herself to the lifestyle synonymous to that of a housewife. A degrading thought, really, because she never figured she’d find herself at the mercy of someone who is pretty much a stranger, and a member of a rival motorcycle club to boot. “How could I have let myself fall so hard from where I was?” was her immediate thought. Though even her thoughts didn’t quench the sweltering fire that were the burning questions of her uncertain future.

Sanemi, on the other hand, was occupied with other thoughts. Why was (Y/N) out in a park on the other side of town at one o’clock in the morning? What happened to the beat up pontiac grand prix she owned; the one that had a missing front bumper and chipped dark blue paint? Whatever happened the night she was taken to the hospital by Tengen and his wives? He remembered her mentioning something about Seis Lunas being her ex, but that was the extent of it. But the mention of Seis Lunas raised even more questions in his mind. Why was (Y/N) even affiliated with the brutal one-percenter club in the first place? How did she come to meet Seis Lunas? Why was she Osiris and Isis’ emergency contact at the very same school that Genya, along with other Hashira prospects, go to?

As both of their minds were caught up in a slew of questions and thoughts, Sanemi had reached her location faster than he had anticipated. He hung up the call and got out of the black sedan he drives, looking around and spotting (Y/N) almost immediately. Her condition seemingly improved; the black eye was nearly gone and she didn’t look as lethargic as before. Though, there was no mistaking the fatigue in her body language as he stepped closer and closer to her. His movements slow, cautious, and weary as if he were moving towards an injured dog. “Hey…” those were his immediate words. She looked up at him, an involuntary breath of relief escaping her lungs as she took another hit off of the blunt. He sat beside her on the curb, lighting his own cigarette and taking a drag. “You alright?” She looked over at him, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay, but to no avail, seeing as how they just couldn’t stop falling.

“Depends on what your definition of “okay” is.” (Y/N) spoke softly, her sigh heavy and tired as she took another hit from the blunt. “Car broke down, and I've been walking ever since. Just kinda left it there, it was a piece of shit anyways. Payments were overdue, tags were no good and it had no insurance. If anything if I was caught riding around in it I’d get arrested, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise or something.” Was she ranting now? She’s never done that before, especially not in front of Sanemi. Like, yeah, they’ve had their fair share of long talks over the phone, but never about personal struggles. She was far too prideful to want to admit she needed help, so why do so now? Sanemi sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, taking another drag off of his cigarette and running a hand through his hair.

“I getcha, it's hard to figure out your priorities, especially in a situation like yours. Hell, maybe it really was a blessing in disguise, considering the Kizuki would know what your car looks like. I’d have definitely ditched the car if it meant your safety.” He took another drag from his cigarette and looked at her. “But I guess you’re not really one to worry about things like that huh?” (Y/N) looked his way with a sneer.

“Really? You’re seriously asking me that? My bike is totaled, my car is gone, all of my shit is at the Kizuki hideout. I doubt Seis Lunas would give it back to me anyways, hell, he probably already burned most of my clothes and broke a lot of my valuables.” She shook her head and took another heavy drag from the blunt. “I don’t even think he wants to see me anyways.” Tears filled her eyes, but she was quick to blink them away. Though this didn’t escape Sanemi, seeing the tears in her eyes broke his own heart. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t feel something for her, but he couldn’t help it.

What’s more, (Y/N) feels something for him also, and it’s definitely not what she’s supposed to be feeling. It’s not contempt she feels, but pure and utter infatuation for someone who’s basically a stranger. They barely know each other, hell, they don’t even know the most basic information about one another. They don’t know each other's hopes, dreams, aspirations- not even what the other person’s favorite food is. Why the hell are they so hellbent on feeling this way? This isn’t supposed to be happening, this shouldn’t be happening. But (Y/N) knew that maybe it was just the overwhelming wave of emotions clouding her judgment; that it was simply the blunt she was smoking that was altering her state of mind. But weed doesn’t affect her like that, at least not when it comes to her self control. Sanemi could smell the whiskey on her breath, the weed in her blunt, the pure and utter despair she was experiencing.

He had enough of this, enough of watching her suffer. Without even thinking, he put out his cigarette and took her hand, gently guiding her up into a standing position and to his car. What the hell was he doing, taking a stranger into his car and offering help when he knew she’d probably deny it in the first place? What about (Y/N) was so enticing to him that he just had to do this? “Your hands are freezing, what the hell are you doing out here without the proper clothes? This thin hoodie of yours isn’t going to keep you warm.” He spoke sternly as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders, damning the consequences of his own actions in his mind. “At this rate, you’ll catch pneumonia if you’re not careful.”

“Then let me get sick.” (Y/N) spat, a defiant huff escaping her lungs as she sniffled from the bitter chill of the otherwise clear night. Her breath came out in the form of white mist, visible in the blue-violet glow of the street lamps. “Why do you care so much about me? You’re a stranger! Why do you want to help me when you know I’m bound to suffer anyway?” Once again, Sanemi’s heart shattered, feeling his heartstrings pull as he wrapped her up in his arms, trying his hardest to keep her warm. “S-stop, just… don’t, please.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears; gone were the worries of her well being. Sanemi would make sure she was safe, no matter what it took. If the other hashiras didn’t agree, or even if the Kizuki went after him, he didn’t care. “Sanemi enough-”

“Stop. Stop talking, just shut up.” He looked her in the eyes, nothing but care and tenderness within his lilac gaze. “Do you not realize how fucked up your situation is, (Y/N)?” Sanemi spoke softly, wiping errant tears from her cold cheeks. Her skin felt like ice under his calloused, warm hands. “I met someone like you before, she… she meant the world to me, but… that's a story for another time. For now, let's just get your shit from the Kizuki. You’re not staying outside tonight, or any other night for that matter. Alright?” Her eyes narrowed, what the hell was he talking about?

“Who is this we? If you step foot near the Kizuki they’re going to kill you. I’ve seen it happen before, they don’t care who comes around, friend or not. If they don’t want you there, they’re going to hurt you.” Why was she even giving him this warning in the first place? It’s not like she cared about what happened to him or anything, he's a hashira. She’s supposed to hate him, to want nothing to do with him, to loathe him with her entire being because she was supposed to want nothing to do with him. But his touch felt warm, so comforting and so warm that she couldn’t help but lean into his scarred hands that rested on the skin of her face. His gaze was kind and caring, making a foreign feeling swell in her heart and bubble in her gut. It was never supposed to be this way. Sanemi shook his head slowly, a soft sigh escaping him as he thought about the girl in front of him now, how she’s so eerily similar to the one he knew as Flora, at least, that's what her road name was. “Sanemi answer me!” (Y/N)’s voice brought him back to reality, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. She’s stubborn, but so was he, and he was determined to help her regardless of whatever protest he gave.

“The “we” is us, (Y/N). I’m not letting you face your ex alone. Not after what he did to you.” Sanemi’s hands ran through her hair, his touch gentle, a far cry from his usually harsh demeanor. “You were put into the ICU for weeks, doll. Who’s to say Seis wouldn’t do it again? If anything, the backup from me should be enough, and if it’s not, you’ve got a whole slew of people ready to back you up at a moment's notice.” Doll… (Y/N)’s never been called that before. “I’ll be goddamned if something like that happens to you again. I… I can’t stand to see you like that again, or like the mess you are right now. So for the love of Christ, stop being so fucking stubborn and just let me help you.” He’s conflicted now, he’s not supposed to be pining over her like this, yet, here he is. Fawning over a woman he barely knows and she’s obviously not having it- or so he thinks.

“Sanemi be honest with me are you just looking for a fuck?” (Y/N) spoke softly, her gaze meeting his in an almost intimidating manner. Her vulnerability causes her to feel weak, and that's the last thing she wants right now. After all, being weak is what almost got her killed in the first place.

“You honestly think I’m that shallow?” Sanemi scoffed, sounding almost offended as he opened his passenger side door as it started to snow. Getting in on the passenger side, he slipped the key into the ignition and started the car. “But if you really need to know, no, I’m not looking for a fuck. That's the last thing I’d look for, especially in someone who’s in a situation like yours. You’re still recovering from your injuries, don’t act like I didn’t see you limping.” He put the car in drive and headed further into town, towards the area of the Kizuki hideout. (Y/N) felt her heart drop at the thought of it, knowing that she’d have to go in there and get her stuff, even if it was just the bare minimum of her clothes. She quickly hopped on the phone and made a call.

“Do you honestly think it’s a good idea to make a call?” Sanemi questioned, raising a curious eyebrow, but his eyes gave away concern. (Y/N) looked at him with a deadpan expression, a deep sigh escaping her as she rolled her eyes.

“Would you rather die? Because that’s what's gonna happen to the both of us if I don’t call ahead of time. It’s for both of our sakes.” She redirected her attention to the conversation on the phone. “Hey, you burn my shit or is it still in your room?.. Excuse me? Donated? I mean, did you at least keep my underwear and stuff?.. You’re fucking kidding me- alright, fine… yeah, yeah, whatever… don’t get smart with me, dipshit… hey, last time I checked, I wasn’t the one that swung first, and I certainly wasn’t the one that left a gash in my leg- shut your goddamn trap, Seis- you know what, fuck you.” Sanemi’s eyes widened at her harsh language, watching her not only hang up, but completely turn off her phone also startled him as well. He let out a low whistle, cringing at the mere thought of what was said on the other line, that is, until (Y/N) spoke up again. “Just take me to the next town over, I’ll manage.”

“No.” It was an immediate response from him, as if it were easy for him to say such a thing. As if (Y/N) meant something to him, and deep down, he knew it was just utterly and horribly wrong. “I can't let you go off the grid, not after what you said to the vice president of the Kizuki. If you're with the hashira, it'll be like having bodyguards-” He was cut off yet again by her protests.

“I don't need bodyguards, Sanemi! I just need time! Time away from this godforsaken, dusty old town where there is nothing for me here!” Sanemi slammed his hand on the steering wheel, a frustrated groan ripping from his throat, pulling over on a deserted road and putting the car in park.

“Goddammit (Y/N) what the hell do you not get?! Going off the grid isn't doing you any favors! It's just a show of cowardice! That you're letting Seis, your fucking ex boyfriend win! If you go, he wins, you understand me?!” His voice raised, but never harsh, Sanemi tried his hardest to make his point known. There was a beat of silence as Sanemi collected himself. Clearing his throat with a sigh, he spoke up again. “I will not sit here and watch you destroy yourself. You know I had to pose as your boyfriend for them to give me visitation rights? You know that I made sure you were getting the proper medicine in that hospital? You may not think I care but the reality is that I do! I WON'T JUST FUCKING STAND BY AND WATCH YOU SUFFER ALONE!-” He was cut off yet again by one of (Y/N)’s frustrated groans.

“Just take me to wherever we're going then, since you won't give me a choice!” (Y/N) snapped, her arms crossed as defiant, solemn tears ran down her face. Her shivering form igniting a fire within Sanemi, making him swear a silent vow to himself.

He would keep her safe, no matter what.

Without another word, he started the car once more, and sped off to the hashira clubhouse. Blasting the speakers with rock and rap. Not a word exchanged as they drove fast and dangerous.

…

As she sleeps in Sanemi’s room, his eyes lock with Ouroboros’. “You… you actually brought her back?” The shorter man spoke incredulously, hitting his vape like it was the one thing keeping him grounded to reality. Sanemi sighed, his clothes snow-soaked and eyes tired. “Man, you're either insane, or you just lucked out.”

Sanemi scoffed, addressing his jet black haired companion by his government name. “She fell asleep in the car, Obanai. She was exhausted, god knows the last time she even slept properly.” A sigh escaped the silverette, tired and anxious, he took a hit from his own vape. “I don't even know when the last time she ate was. I mean, look at her, she's practically skin and bones.”

“Skin and bones is an exaggeration, Sanemi. She's not emaciated, she's just underweight. I'll see if we have anything, but try to fill her up with fluids for now.” Obanai deadpanned, earning himself a glare from his lilac eyed friend.

“Fluids? Really? We'll start her off small, see where it goes. If anything we can always have Mariposa or Hinasturu make sure she's okay.” Sanemi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Obanai snorted with contempt.

“Does she even have the basics? Clothes? A place of her own? Hell, does she even have a job?” The ravenette looked at (Y/N) with a scrutinizing, appraising stare, hitting his vape once more as Sanemi shot him another cold glare.

“She's working on it, dude, don't push it so hard. The more you do the more pissed off she's gonna get.” The silverette whispered to his companion. Of course she was working on it, or at least, he hoped she was working on it.

“She's asleep, she's not going to hear us-” Obanai was cut off by a female voice, one that resounded from behind them, not from the bed where (Y/N) laid asleep.

“Can a girl get any sleep around here without having to listen to yalls bitching and arguing?” They looked behind them, finding a pink ane green haired, pale skinned, green eyed girl. One who looked like she had just woken up- and was clearly irritated. “It's two in the morning, get some goddamn sleep. And you,” she pointed to Obanai, “why are you still awake? I thought you said you'd come to bed an hour ago?” Her voice turned soft, and so did Obanai's gaze. The ravenette wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I'll be in bed soon, love, just go back to sleep. I'll be there in a moment, okay?” His whispers soothed the pinkette, who nodded softly and went back to her own room with tentative, quiet steps. Sanemi scoffed with a smirk, taking another hit from his vape.

“You might wanna do that now before your wife gets pissed again.” Obanai casted him a sharp look, heterochromic eyes meeting Sanemi’s lilac ones.

“She's not my wife.” Obanai spat.

“Well, you guys certainly act like a married couple, just saying.” Sanemi snickered, earning a groan from the jet black haired man. “But anyways, go sleep with Mitsuri. I got this from here.” With that, Obanai simply nodded and walked back to his own room to be with his lover. Sanemi looked at (Y/N), who was still sleeping, walking over to her and laying next to her. “I… I hope you're okay.” He whispered softly, memories of the former flower hashira enraptured his mind, flooding his heart with waves of melancholy and bitterness.

But this time it would be different, this time it would be-

“H-hah…” the soft gasp cuts through the air like a cleaver. Sanemi hoped it came from the other room where Obanai and Mitsuri resided. Or maybe that insufferable long haired ravenette's room- Giyuu's room, where he stayed with Shinobu. “Ah…!” Yeah, nope, that's coming from his room. Right where the wounded woman laid in his bed asleep, the slight shuffling of her body under the covers indicated some sort of dream. Whether it was a nightmare or otherwise, Sanemi couldn't tell. However, (Y/N)’s blissed out expression gave evidence to all signs pointing to anything but a nightmare.

He knew better than to disturb her, taking the cold, carpeted floor where concrete resided underneath. Using a bunched up hoodie as a pillow, he knew he had to get some sleep. Yet all he heard was the sounds of her voice; breathless and wanton as she gave into the bidding of her dreams. Her gasps and moans, hitched and hushed, as she gave into the pleasure of her subconscious mind. He knew it was dirty, he knew it was wrong to just sit there and watch her please herself; yet despite himself, his reservations, he couldn't help but to sit and listen.

Soon enough, the cold hard floor of the room proved to be useless in aiding Sanemi's battle against insomnia. Although it was against his better judgment, he gently scooped (Y/N)’s body up, and laid beside her in bed. Gently pulling the sheets over the both of them, he allows the siren call of sleep to consume him.

...

Likes, comments, asks, and reblogs are appreciated!

Tag list: @giyuuzas @peachdues @bnuuybee-writes @mitsuristoleme

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny sanemi #kny x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x y/n #abbys Ride or Die

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lunasfics · 1 year ago

Text

Thunderstorms - Bruce Wayne

Summary: There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: I'm like. not super happy with how this turned out. but i hope someone likes it. i saw a picture bruce and he looked absolutely scrumptious and I was inspired to write some fluff for him. ALSO SO SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY IVE BEEN BUSY. and also. writers block is a bitch. so yeah, i am trying to get better with updates though!!

reblogs are appreciated!

You sighed, standing under a ledge just outside your work building, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve the little warmth you had. The rain pelted down onto the concrete mercilessly, the cold, harsh winds hindering the ledge you were under from really doing much to help. The fresh scent of rain washing away the grime on the concrete filled your nostrils, the cool air nipping at your skin. Of course, Gotham’s usually unbelievably bad weather just had to be at its worst when you get off work, after the building closes, during the one point in time you don’t have a car. Wonderful.

You weren't sure what you were waiting for honestly, you had considered calling him. But thought better of it. He was busy on patrol, he always was. Besides, it had been about two weeks since you’d seen your boyfriend, and although it did hurt you, you understood. Or you at the very least tried your best to. You’d decided long ago to not lie to yourself, you understood Bruce’s endeavor, but you also understood that you have every right to feel upset over it. To feel hurt. It wasn’t an easy endeavor, you knew that, you’d only wished he’d reach out and let you in.

You winced as the loud rumbling of thunder sounded through the sky. You had always hated thunderstorms, the thugs and criminals of Gotham didn’t scare you, Batman didn’t scare you, neither did the vigilantes who worked with him; but thunderstorms just… terrified you.

As you contemplated your options, you decided you’d just wait it out, you’d much rather sit still in a thunderstorm than have to navigate your way through it.

You dug your hands into the pockets of your jacket trying to keep warm, as you shuffled back against the wall. Your head shot up at the familiar swoosh sound of someone landing silently not far from you. You turned towards the sound, where you saw Batman looking at you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, you were surprised, Bruce didn’t usually patrol this area until the later hours of the night. You had learned not long after your relationship started which patrol routes he would usually take, you figured he would be somewhere on the east side of Gotham.

His lips pressed into a line before he spoke, “You’re afraid of thunderstorms. Your car is getting repaired tonight.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving the white lenses of his cowl.

He cleared his throat before approaching you, removing his cape and draping it over you gently, it was heavy. It smelled like cedar wood and mint, the scent of the body wash you bought for him not long ago, and the faint smell of gunpowder, you lifted it over your head to form a makeshift hood, the thick fabric of the large cape still swallowed you. When you seemed ready he walked alongside you as you made the route towards your apartment.

He spoke again, his voice quiet, “You could have called me. I would have come sooner.”

You shook your head, “I thought you were on patrol. I’m surprised you’re here, honestly. It’s been awhile.”

He seemed to tense a bit, only for a split second, but you noticed. You chose not to acknowledge it.

“Hm.” He gave a nod, as you continued along the sidewalk towards your apartment building, walking in silence. You looked at him on more than one occasion. He seemed to be contemplating what to say before speaking again, “I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He paused for a moment, rather awkwardly, like he really wasn’t sure how to go about what he wanted to say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. Leave it to you to make Batman nervous.

He cleared his throat again, before speaking, “I haven’t been giving you a relationship that you deserve, I’ve been prioritizing this,” he gestured to his suit, “over us. For that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, indicating you were acknowledging his words. There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you. You looked at him, the corners of his mouth tilted downwards in concern.

You took a moment before responding, “I understand. I know it’s… a lot. Just, maybe a call every few days couldn't hurt? Instead of, you know, disappearing on me.”

His gaze was still fixed on you as he nodded, clearing his throat, he spoke again, “I should have been doing that to begin with.”

You nodded, “You should have, but I could’ve done more to reach out. I should’ve established those boundaries.”

He looked at you, for a moment, the slightest hint of surprise adorned his visible features, “You aren’t in the wrong here.”

You shrugged, “Maybe not as much as you, but relationships are a two-way street, we both have to try, and I wasn’t doing my part. Not as much as I should have been.”

He nodded, you noted the way his shoulders relaxed.

“I would like to mention however, now that these boundaries are set, you can’t pull that on me again. You need to talk to me, Bruce. You can't just disappear on me and expect me to just be okay with it.”

He nodded again, his eyes not leaving yours, you could feel his stare through the cowl, “I’ll do that, I’ll do better,” he promised.

You smiled, opening the door to your apartment building, it was late in the evening, no one in the building tended to wander about at this time of night. You looked over at him, tilting your head to invite him into the building, before continuing towards the elevator, pressing the upwards arrow. You turned and he was right next to you. His mouth was pressed into a line, the corner of his lip moving in a way that told you he was in thought.

The elevator right up to your floor was quiet. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. That was one thing you’d liked about being with him, you didn’t have to talk constantly to maintain a comfortable space.

When you reached the door you unlocked it, stepping through and folding the heavy cape in your arms. You turned around and took in the sight of Bruce, right outside your door, there in his bat suit, without a cape he looked kind of…naked. It was kind of funny, if you were being honest. He stood there, awkward in a way that only you could make him, he wasn’t one to fidget, but you could see the way his gloved hand twitched ever so slightly, as if he wanted to.

Initially, when you first started dating Bruce, you were reluctant, his reputation was known to most in Gotham, and his sincerity, in your eyes, was just a facade.

So imagine your surprise when you not only agree to a date, but during said date, he takes you to a quiet little cafe, and is oddly… timid? You were undoubtedly perplexed, as gone was his playboy persona; and it drew you to him, his reserved personality captivated you, because you knew it was genuine. That was the day you really met Bruce Wayne.

You eyed him standing awkwardly at your door, before asking, “Well, would you like to come in?”

He nodded, clearing his throat before entering your small apartment, shutting your door quietly behind him.

“You weren’t planning on going back on patrol after this?”

He shook his head, removing his cowl as he spoke, “It’s a slow night, Gordon can handle it,” he met your eyes, revealing the icy blue color that you love so much, offering you a small grin, “I want to spend time with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What about Alfred?”

His lip quirked up into a small smile, “He told me I should ‘get over myself and go see you before I lose what is quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to me’, he also said he was getting sick of me locking myself in the cave.”

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his arms wrap themselves securely around your waist, leaning into the familiar closeness, “Alfred is a smart man.”

“He is, I suppose even he needs a break sometimes.”

“I can imagine, I’ll have to write him a thank you card for keeping you in check,” you laughed softly.

“He’d love that, I'm sure,” he huffed a small laugh.

You giggled, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, pulling away to meet his eyes again, “So you’re staying the night, but take a shower, you smell like sweat.”

He nodded. He went over to your bedroom, probably to grab some of his spare clothes kept there, when he wasn't so hyper-focused on his mission, he spent a lot of time there in between patrols. It wasn’t long before you heard the water running. You moved from your place in the living room, deciding to change into your sweats.

You plopped yourself onto your bed, your shut windows thankfully covered the storm that was outside, you buried yourself under the blankets. You flicked on your lamp, encasing the room with a warm glow, pulling out and reading a book you were halfway through, not closing it until you heard the shower turn off, the bathroom door opened not long after.

You looked over to see Bruce, his hair fell over his forehead in damp clumps, his towel strung over his shoulder over the old band t-shirt he had on, his sweatpants hung loosely on his frame. He set the towel down to dry before climbing into the other side of the bed.

You shut the book in your hand, setting it aside before opening your arms, allowing him to shuffle himself closer, he leaned over you and shut off the light. You felt his weight on top of you, his arms wrapping around you, his head comfortably on your chest. You ran your fingers through his damp hair, enjoying the quiet moment.

He lifted his head, his blue eyes meeting yours, “Move into the manor with me.”

You stopped, “What?”

He shifted, propping himself on his elbows, “Move in with me.”

“Are you sure? For someone who has contingencies for his contingencies, you can be incredibly impulsive.”

He nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it for the past month at least. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, move into the manor with me.”

There was a moment of silence while you processed, though he seemed to interpret your silence as a form of rejection, “Of course, if you don’t feel ready that’s okay, we can take this at your pace, we can always—”

“Bruce.”

He stopped, his full attention on you.

“I would love to move into the manor with you.”

He smiled, genuine and bright, you felt as if you were looking into the warmth of the sun, the best part— this was the smile he saved only for you.

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biteofcherry · 1 year ago

Note

I see you're being a menace Navy! And at the very start of the week 😜 Then I shall fight your attack @navybrat817 with a beast of my own! 😏 Who's not scared of the big bad wolf?

Bad Moon Rising

alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

warnings: none; a bit of dirty talk; brief mention of chase kink; shifter!Ari; wolf!Ari; alpha!Ari;

You chop the ingredients with viciousness, pouring into it your need to stab a certain someone and cut off the invisible ties which bound your future.

Yet you keep it diced nicely, instead of turning everything into a mush.

Partly because you aren't that childish to act out, but also because your mother ingrained enough of proper hospitality behavior that you couldn't simply shake it off to spite a bloody Alpha.

Especially not when he was invited to your family home, by your parents, for a Sunday dinner.

So they could meet their future son-in-law officially; as if Ari didn't drag you back marked with his cum, after chasing you through the woods a week ago.

You were annoyed that everyone seemed to forget about that part, but you were also glad they never pointed out how you clung to his side despite glaring murderous intent at him.

Was it the vulnerability that you tried to shield yourself behind the big Alpha, or did that instinctive chase and victorious marking successfully lured your wolf side to accept Ari as your mate?

You're not sure.

You scrubbed your body clean of his cum, yet it still feels like his smell lingers on you. Your tongue tingles and mouth fills with saliva whenever you think of the salty taste of him.

With an angry grunt, you chop a cucumber in half. Then dice it with precise, quick moves.

Pity you didn't have the knife with you when you opened the door earlier. You could've stabbed Ari in the thigh when he greeted you with a grin and a comment that he's surprised to see you waiting in place, since he half expected to have to chase after you again.

He brought gifts, because apparently he was raised well, even though you thought him to be the most primitive beast.

A bouquet of flowers for your mother, a bottle of top shelf bourbon to share with your father, and a blackberry tart for dessert (which was one of your favorites and you found yourself annoyed that he chose so well).

Cursing under your breath, you stand up on your tiptoes to reach the black glass bowl on the highest shelf. Your fingertips barely reach it.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your middle. Solid, hot body presses against your back.

You're startled, but the familiar now scent of pine and moss wraps around you, caressing your animal side like the gentlest pet.

You gulp, watching muscles flex beneath the bronzed skin on Ari's forearm as he easily reaches the bowl and takes it down for you.

"You're trembling," Ari notices, keeping you caged between his massive body and the counter.

He splays his fingers over your belly, the other hand tracing along the goosebumps on your arm. You feel the coarse denim of his jeans against the back of your thighs; your sundress too thin to block the warmth of him from seeping in.

"A mountain of a man, who could easily break my neck with one hand, sneaked up on me. Of course I'm trembling."

You don't believe your own lie, either. The cool indifference you hoped to carry your voice sounded too husky.

Ari's lips graze the shell of your ear. Puff of his breath seems to disperse through your whole body, like an echo calling out to your nature.

"We both know the only parts I'm going to break are your holes, little Omega," his voice is deceptively soft; more of a promise than a threat and your body ignites at the prospect.

You hope the smell of baked potatoes and roast resting out of the oven is enough to mask the splash of your arousal, but with the Alpha's sharpened senses you're not sure it helps cover your reaction.

So you lightly jab an elbow into his stomach to push him away (before he makes a mess out of you, or before your parents find you in a compromising position).

"Don't be crude," you huff, filling your hands with chopped veggies and tossing them into the bowl.

Ari chuckles, but steps aside. Not far enough for your liking, only a few inches as he leans his hip against the counter and studies your profile.

His head slightly tilted, Ari licks his lips, dragging his teeth over the bottom lip as he watches you dip a finger into the jar with dressing and bring it up to your lips to taste the seasoning.

"I'm not made to be waxing poetics," he admits with a shrug. "But I also don't think they'd work on you."

"You don't know that. You don't know anything about me." You tilt your chin up, pouring the dressing over the salad.

"I know you're determined. Smart. And strong willed." Ari sounds as impressed and fascinated as he did that first night you met him. "I also know you're closer to the wild, animal side than you let on."

He traces a finger along your shoulder, flicking the strap of your dress aside.

"I know you've got as much of thrill from the chase as I did," Ari's finger draws lower, across the swell of your breast.

"I know your wolf accepts me. And that you're primed to take me even now..."

His finger presses against your stiffened nipple and your knees threaten to give out.

It's the truth that scares you the most. You're a shifter - part human and part wolf. And that night when Ari hunted you down, your wolf submitted.

The bitch fucking yielded in delight for the big bad Alpha.

"Stop it!" You slap Ari's hand away and adjust the strap back into place.

"Take this out to the backyard," you place the bowl in his hands. "You were supposed to be there, anyway. You're a guest, act like one."

Ari's fingertips brush yours as he takes the bowl from you, the contact, though minimal, makes your heart jump.

"Only three weeks, little Omega," he says, holding your gaze. "Three weeks until the ceremony. Then I'll have all of you."

You can't be thinking about that; about the details of the ceremony and the bond that will tie you to Ari forever. Every time your thoughts briefly turn in that direction, your wolf perks up in some wild need and you end up drenched and restless.

"Well," you lick your lips, yanking your hands away from Ari's touch, "maybe I'll run away."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Ari grins, so fucking cocky.

He winks at you, then leaves the kitchen. For a short moment you consider if you'd menage to run away this very moment.

#navybrat817 #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #alpha!ari levinson #alpha!ari levinson x omega reader #ari levinson x female reader #alpha ari levinson x omega female reader #ari levinson imagine #bad moon rising

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cuubism · 10 months ago

Text

Morphology | Dreamling | 4.6k words | Explicit | AO3

eldritch Dream, genderfluidity of a kind, lots of smut, nonhuman organs, angst, body dysphoria, undefined body forms and transformation, brief eldritch panic attack, they/them pronouns for Dream

Dream is not meant to stay in one form. But they must, for that is the form that Hob knows. That Hob loves. Or so they think.

this is based on @gabessquishytum and their anon's post located here, about Dream believing Hob won't want him in all his nonhuman shapes, only to discover Hob is very much a monsterfucker... and also loves him very much. I was going to append it to the post but then it got kind of very long. Hope you don't mind me playing around!

---

It was not for dreams to be only one thing.

In the Dreaming, they morphed and shifted, merging from one form to another. Smoke to wind to water, lava to sparks back to stone. In the minds of dreamers they took every unconceivable form, a thousand impossibilities as various as the limbs of Destiny’s forking tree. They were all of unreality. All that could not be, all that was hoped for, fleeting, forgotten, or held, for a time.

In the Waking, it was different. Dreams Dream bent and condensed into a singular form. They he knew well enough from his dreamers that while fluid changeability may be accepted in the illogical narratives of dreams, it was not so in the Waking. To interact with humans, he must appear as one, with the limited mutability that allowed.

Which was not to say that Dream disliked his Waking form. He chose what was pleasing to him. But sometimes it felt… stifling, for one used to being as expansive as the clouds.

Particularly after his imprisonment. Kept like an insect pinned to a board. Immovable. When he was meant to move. When he was Morpheus. Shaper of Forms.

Dream put that away from him.

Hob liked this form of his. Dream had come to understand the way Hob looked on him, and he liked that Hob wanted this form. But. He was not meant to stay in this form. Not always. It was. Chafing. It was. Hurting.

No matter. He could stay in this form that Hob wanted, because more than wanting to break from this skin Dream wanted Hob’s love. And his desire. He wanted to keep Hob’s gentle, heated touch.

This form of lean muscle and sharp bone. This solid body that had endured Roderick Burgess’s prison but also received Hob’s love… he could keep it. Yes. He could. He could.

~~~

I am wind that wishes to storm. Cloud that edges on rain. I am caterpillar’s dream of flight, I am words of disbelieving, I am the hopeful light of new stars, I am— I am water’s dance with the shore, and the sun’s kiss of the moon, and— and— no—

“Yo. Roiling mass of terror that I’m pretty sure is the boss. You good?”

Dream opened their eyes. They did not have eyes, but no matter. Dreams were often about seeing. Matthew was standing on the sand before them, head cocked.

“You alright?” he repeated. “I couldn’t tell if the shrieking was a bad thing or just like. One of your things.”

“One of my things,” Dream repeated.

“Can never know,” said Matthew. He hopped onto an arm that Dream’s form generated just for him to stand on.

“I was not,” said Dream, “shrieking.”

“You were definitely shrieking,” said Matthew. “It sounded like a laundry machine dying.”

Dream grumbled in offense.

Matthew nudged his head against one of Dream’s hands. “Do you… wanna talk about it?”

Dream considered. “Do you often ponder your own physical form, Matthew?”

“Well, since I became a bird,” said Matthew. “Kinda weird. It’s cool, though. Who doesn’t dream of flying, amirite?” He flapped his wings in demonstration, lifting off Dream’s arm, then settling down again.

“And when you were human?” Dream asked.

“Every human thinks about their body, dude.”

“Did you desire to change it?” Dream pressed.

“You mean like a weight loss program?” said Matthew. “Those never work.”

“No,” said Dream. Their form morphed around them, here legs, there tail, wings, teeth. They could not make it settle, not on a human shape or on anything else. They felt— agitated. They should return to their usual human form. Should. “That is not what I meant.”

“Ohhhhhh,” said Matthew, and smacked his face with his wing in realization. “It’s this whole deal. Well, you could change it if you want? I mean. You’re doing it.”

“I did not mean to,” said Dream, their form still writhing around them, never landing on any one shape. “I—” they were meant to go see Hob. They had been cloaked properly in their usual shape. And. Something had snapped.

They remembered, now, falling to their knees on the sand, the careful construct of their human self, a body once worn easily as one of many, shattering into a million shards.

They should. Change. They should change back. They wished to see Hob, and Hob, for all his adaptability, was only human, he would not be able to tolerate this, this thing that could not even give itself a face, or decide what it was, this thing that found physical stasis anathema after so long pressed in glass. Hob cared for the being that he knew. Not this one that, Dream thought, sometimes did not even know itself.

“Whatever you’re doing, I think you should probably stop,” Matthew warned.

“You dare to question me?” Dream bit. He was condensing back down under his human mask, he could do it, he could. He had loved this form once. Could again. As one of many.

Matthew nipped at his hand with his beak. And it was only this that made Dream realize he was clawing at his face so hard he was bleeding starlight.

Solidity spiraled away from Dream again, and they let out a hard breath. It was useless. Whatever meager control they had maintained since their escape was slipping from them. It was pointless to pretend otherwise any longer. Or to pretend that they could truly offer Hob the form he was accustomed to.

“Matthew,” Dream said, and Matthew hopped to attention. “I have some business I must attend to. Please leave me now.”

“Are you sure—?”

Dream waved a hand and sent him back to the palace.

If it was impossible for them to consistently return to their prior state, then at least they should be done with it now. Show Hob what he was truly dealing with. That Dream was not what he thought. Or wanted. Then, at least, they would spare themselves any greater heartbreak.

Wrapping the barest trappings of their usual form around them like an ill-fitting coat, Dream stepped into the Waking.

~~~

Dream emerged directly onto Hob’s bed as a formless shadow. It felt good, to be formless. Normally, they did like to take a form, but to choose recently had been taxing.

Hob was awake and reading. Dream had been meant to come for dinner, and was late. When Dream appeared in a sudden fall of darkness, Hob shrieked and flung his book at them on instinct. It simply passed through Dream with no effect.

“Dream?” said Hob, gasping, the spike in his adrenaline clear. “Is that you, love? Somehow? Or am I about to get eaten?”

Those do not preclude each other, Dream said. Though as they were still a shadow, their voice was more a low rumbling vibration than a true voice.

“Not sure how I understood that,” said Hob. He tilted his head, trying to make out features in the darkness but not, Dream thought, managing it. “Always kind of knew you were more than you seemed,” he added. “Didn’t quite picture this, though.”

It is but one form I am capable of holding, Dream said. Strictly speaking, it was not quite a form at all. As they said it, they shifted, unconsciously, until they were the beam of lamplight caressing Hob’s face—Hob’s hand chased them across his own cheek—and then the lulling hum of traffic, comforting night sounds. Hob kept reaching for them, not quite knowing where he was reaching. And Dream slipped into his daydreams, his vision for what Dream’s many forms might be.

Hob’s daydreams were a comfortable place to land. Warm. Welcoming. And when Dream emerged, they were a thing of Hob’s imagining, something dark and shadowed and multi-faceted but ultimately. Touchable.

That was what Hob desired of them?

“Okay,” said Hob, “what actually is going on here? Are you okay?”

Dream did not reply, stuck on Hob’s daydreams. He did not wish for Dream to force themselves back into their usual form. He merely molded what Dream brought him into a form that was comprehensible to him.

Relief crashed over Dream, magnitudes greater than the dread they had refused to acknowledge. They knew, now, that they had truly expected this to be the end. To scare Hob off. But Hob did not seem to be scared.

“Dream?” Hob reached a careful hand toward them. He pet down Dream’s flank. Fur that was soft because he was touching it. He huffed an incredulous laugh. “Wow. It really is… you.”

“In some fashion,” said Dream.

“In some fashion,” Hob repeated. “In what fashion, exactly?”

Instead of answering, Dream butted their head into Hob’s shoulder. Following the relief of his touch, so much softer and more detailed, now that they did not have the barrier of a stifling form in the way.

“Darling,” Hob said, petting Dream’s hair, “need words.”

“No,” Dream mumbled petulantly. And Hob allowed them their petulance. Dream let out a long breath. It blew warm over Hob’s throat, and Dream felt him shiver. They trailed fingertips up Hob’s ribcage, along bare skin, feeling the stacked solidity of his bones. Hob shivered again.

“It’s like that, is it?” he said.

Dream shifted closer, half slither, half crawl, until their form, incomprehensible even to themselves, was draped over Hob’s lap. Bliss, there, the warmth of him. “You are not repelled?”

“By the ten arms? I think I can cope.” He pressed his lips in close to Dream’s ear. “In fact. I had a dream about this the other night. Well.” He laughed. “I guess I’m having a Dream about it now, eh?”

“Did you?” said Dream, ears pricking up. Had their… moods slipped into Hob’s dreams?

“Can’t remember the details,” Hob said. “But I remember how it felt.” He trailed fingertips up the bony knobs of Dream’s spine. Unlike Dream at the moment, Hob only had two arms, but Dream felt every press of his fingers acutely.

“How did it feel?” they whispered.

“Like,” Hob murmured, lips to Dream’s jaw now, “you were everywhere. Like I got into your body and made love to you from the inside out.”

The thought made all of the strange and varied nerves of Dream’s shifting body stand on end. They wrapped legs around Hob’s waist, arms around his shoulders. Scraped sharp teeth over his pulse. “Really?”

Hob laughed. “Interested now, are you?”

“Yes,” Dream rumbled, their form flickering in excitement, to shadow then a falling rainbow of light, to a mass of vines that wound all around Hob’s body, and then into roots, as if they could grow into Hob, then branching veins pulsing and racing with Hob’s heartbeat, then back to a morass of half-body, half-shadow, because yes, they wanted to be held by Hob, they must remember that.

Hob was still for several moments, then laughed incredulously. “Okay. You’re so cool. I don’t know what to do with any of that, so I’m going to have to wing it.”

He traced a hand along the soft feathers of a wing that had grown with his words. Dream shuddered. A sensitive part of the body, indeed.

“You’re gorgeous,” Hob murmured. “My strange creature.”

Dream purred in pleasure, wrapping their wings around Hob’s back, mouth catching on the edge of his jaw, and, incredibly, felt Hob growing hard under them, as he would if Dream lounged in his lap and mouthed at his jaw as a human.

“You like this,” Dream said, unable to keep the surprise from their voice.

Hob chuckled. “Didn’t you know I fell for you the second I saw the spark of the otherworldly in your eyes? Just didn’t know the whole of what I was looking at. Not then.”

The spark of the otherworldly. “You are in love with dreams.”

“Figured it out by now, yeah.”

“You are. In love. With this,” Dream said, voice echoing from more than one throat, choked up.

“With this? You mean with you?”

“I do not know quite what I am, now,” Dream admitted.

“Well,” said Hob, slipping a hand between them. Dream gasped in pleasure, wings fluttering involuntarily. “You want to find out?”

Squirming against his hand, Dream said, “Do you even know what it is you are touching?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Hob said cheerfully. “Made you go all shivery, though.”

It had. It was. Dream writhed in his lap as Hob experimented, moaned in startled pleasure, toes curling. Body shifting to hurtle towards that arousal. Hob startled as his hand was suddenly enveloped in heat, something he could press into, and Dream whined, so full all at once with no prelude, body twisting out of control without their explicit direction. But it was good.

Hob gripped them by one wing—these had stayed even as Dream’s form continued to spin—and Dream quivered as Hob pulled them closer, pressing his hand deeper into slick heat. He was grinning against Dream’s throat, scraped light teeth over his pulse, sucked a bruise there. Dream’s form rode the wave of his daydreams, provided a wet mouth for him to bite and kiss as soon as he thought of it. Dream tangled long fingers in his hair, claws digging in.

“Can I fuck you like this?” Hob breathed against his lips.

“If you can cope with me changing on you,” Dream said. “I am not. Entirely in control. At the moment.”

A shameful admission, but Hob groaned as if it was the hottest thing he could think of. “I get to have you multiple ways at once? Oh, how will I manage?”

Dream laughed. It may have been a bit teary. Their many hearts were racing, lungs stuttering for air. Wings shivered, feathers fluttering. A long, furred tail wound its way up Hob’s back to wrap lightly around his throat, possessive. Dream would not let this man go now. Could not.

“Budge up, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” Hob said, probing deeper under Dream’s form with his hand, the other still firm on Dream’s wing, which he seemed to have understood was very sensitive, and intended to press that advantage as much as he could.

The touch of Hob’s hand, in Dream, on them, around them, was bliss. Dream wished to be full of him again. To, as Hob had dreamt, be made love to from the inside out.

Riding that hope, their body shaped another hole for his questing fingers. Hob obligingly pressed his fingers in, but said, “Regrettably, darling, I’ve only got one cock, and I had other plans for my hands.”

“Regrettable, indeed,” said Dream, and Hob laughed. Then, “Plans?”

“Oh, yes. I expect some other interesting things may crop up, eh? Need hands free.” He leaned in close to Dream’s ear, which flicked toward him to listen. “I’m going to find every erogenous zone on this body and make it scream.”

Goosebumps broke out all over Dream’s body. They clung to Hob with every limb they could find. Hob grinned wickedly at this reaction. It was a look Dream knew well, one that always boded very well for them indeed.

Hob worked Dream open on two fingers—though he need not, Dream was already wet and gaping for him—then maneuvered his sleep shorts off, took his cock in hand and stroked it twice, hand slick with Dream’s fluids. Then he lifted Dream bodily and sank them back down on his cock.

Dream whined, careening up several registers, as they were filled so suddenly, as they took Hob to the base. Hob groaned at the feeling of their body. Dream tried to adjust to him but couldn’t, Hob’s cock pressed on sensitive spots deep within them, and any time they thought they’d gotten used to the feeling their body produced a new place to torment.

They clawed at Hob’s back, leaving red lines with sharp fingers. Hob gave an experimental thrust, shifting Dream in his lap, and Dream bit down on a scream as their body lit up, chasing the feeling, loving it, magnitudes more affected than in their usual, limited form.

“Wow,” Hob said, fond laughter in his voice, and heat too, as Dream panted wetly in his ear, “this is going to be fun. Have you been all worked up, my darling? Just needed someone to give you what you really need?”

“Needed you,” Dream murmured. They clenched around Hob, tried to steady themselves, but it only made things worse. Everywhere deep inside them was searing flame, their skin-feathers-fur prickly with static, they feared and needed Hob’s touch in equal measure. To soothe. To set alight.

Hob slipped a hand into the other space Dream had left to tempt him, probing deep. Dream bit down on his ear, drawing spots of blood. Hob drew his hand back, met one of Dream’s many eyes. Licked Dream’s fluids from his hand.

Dream lunged forward to kiss him, whimpering into Hob’s mouth as that drove them impossibly deeper onto Hob’s cock. Hob pulled them close, kissed them hard, caught a fistful of Dream’s hair and pulled. Dream’s body decided that it liked that very much, indeed. They whined at the grip, clawing at Hob’s skin with many hands.

Hob brought them close with a firm hand, bounced Dream in his lap, moving them on and off his cock. Dream wailed, overstimulated by all the angles of his touch, torn between pulling away and diving closer as Hob swept his tongue into their mouth, over sharp teeth and soft palate.

“There’s a love,” Hob breathed. “Does that feel good, darling?”

Dream couldn’t offer a reply, and Hob didn’t wait for one. He dug his fingers into the tight feathering of Dream’s wing and tugged. Dream shrieked, wings flapping wildly, sets of them bursting along their back, more, more, less, more. Hob didn’t let up, stroking his fingers through the feathers, dragging over soft skin, sucking on Dream’s throat all the while.

Dream saw white, their body seized up, and the nebulous hole Hob was using to fuck them morphed into a mouth.

Hob yelped to suddenly feel his cock grazing over shielded teeth. Then he laughed. “Don’t you dare bite my dick off, you menace. It’s horrible to regrow it.”

Dream would have asked how he knew that, except Hob’s cock was down their throat. They choked, swallowing around him. Dream did not need to breathe, and so the pressure was exquisite. Their long tongue wrapped around Hob to the base, caressed his balls. Explored further, along his perineum, to probe at his entrance, and then press in.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck—” Hob’s voice was a strangled shout. “Dream what the actual fuck are you doing?” It didn’t sound like a complaint.

I am fucking you with my tongue, Dream said, a hum directly from their form to Hob’s.

“I can bloody well tell, Jesus Mary and—”

Dream purred and rumbled in pleasure, the satisfaction of taking and being taken at once, of being inside their beloved and having Hob inside them in turn. As Hob had dreamt.

Hob’s fingers pressed into Dream. Dream’s form gave and made places for him to press into. Hob’s fingers tickled deep within them, starlight and heat tracking their path. Dream swirled in an indefinite vortex of shape, a hundred things at once, their body prickling all over with the pleasure of Hob’s touch.

Hob twisted against them, clenching down on their tongue, shouted “Dream!” and came down Dream’s throat. Dream swallowed him down in pleasure, retracted their tongue from Hob’s body, eliciting a long moan. They let Hob pull out, and licked the final taste of Hob from their lips before letting that mouth disappear into their form, the traces of Hob consumed.

And then Hob flipped them, somehow manhandled Dream’s indefinite form down to the mattress, pressed down immovably on legs and arms and wings so that the softest parts of Dream’s body were bared to him. Dream reached for him, always they reached for him, cock hard and straining, cunt aching, the slashes of their being weeping for Hob to come inside. Always weeping. They cried out, every inch of them trembling for Hob’s touch.

“You gorgeous nightmare,” Hob said. “You brilliant daydream. Oh, my darling, I love you so much. I’d do anything for you. Anything. But mostly I want to do this.”

He pressed his mouth to where Dream’s body strained for him.

Hob had a very talented and generous mouth, which Dream had blessedly been on the receiving end of many times. This was different: Dream’s form echoed out Hob’s touch, replicated it a hundred times over so every crevice of their body could feel the flat swipe of his tongue, how he drank Dream’s fluids down, the drag of his stubble over lips and folds and the soft skin of thighs. Dream’s many limbs trembled, bent, reformed themselves in ecstasy, they dragged at Hob’s hair, pressing his face deeper so Dream could grind against him, which only made Hob grin.

Hob pressed two fingers into Dream’s mouth and Dream greedily sucked on them, grounding themselves. Taking Hob in more than one way at once… yes. That was what they wanted. They closed their many eyes and gave themselves over to sensation. Hob’s mouth and tongue, the taste of him, the weight of his body as he bent Dream on the bed, his scent, musk and the woodsmoke that seemed to cling to him all these years later—or perhaps that was only in dreams.

They were a dream of completion. They were a dream of ecstasy. Of flight. Hob’s hand tangled in their fragile feathers. Hob’s mouth and fingers inside them. Then Hob plunged three fingers hard, deep within them, as he sucked on Dream’s clit, and with a piercing noise like glass shattering Dream came.

They were. Fragments. The individual colors splayed wide by a prism. Red, yellow, blue. Hob’s fingers trailed through them, blending the colors like paint in water. For several moments Dream drifted, more thought than being. Distantly aware of Hob’s weight on them. It felt… like kindness. Then they floated back to the present, light as the first flight of unfurled moth wings.

Hob was lying on them, looking at them, head tilted. A twinkle in his eyes. He skated his hands up Dream’s sides. Flowers bloomed in the wake of his touch, their soft petals shivering with sensitivity. Hob plucked one of the flower buds and, holding Dream’s gaze, ate it. Swallowed it. Dream watched the movement of his throat.

Inside out, he thought.

“Broke you into pieces,” Hob said then, with satisfaction. “Think I might have seen God for a sec there. Can do better, though.”

“Better?” Dream echoed, voice hoarse. Their form shifted, still, but slowly, languidly. No longer restless. A dark wing draped over Hob’s back. A tail played with his hair. He didn’t seem to mind.

“There’s so much we can do with this,” he said. He gazed at Dream, fond, terribly knowing. “Only getting started, love. I love—” he kissed Dream’s belly, a light, ghosting touch, and tickled Dream’s side with his fingertips— “how sensitive you are like this.”

“I—” Dream started. Absent the writhing need, now they just felt… stripped. Vulnerable. “I expected that you would. Not. Like this. It is not. Human.”

“Neither are you,” Hob pointed out.

“I appear so,” Dream said.

Hob snorted. “No, you don’t.”

Dream stared at him, unable to decide whether or not to be offended.

“I wear the guise of a human,” they insisted, and, to prove it, morphed back into the form that Hob would know as his lover. It was an easier coat to wear, now that they knew they could take it off.

“No, keep the wings,” Hob complained. “Those are cool.”

Dream obligingly returned wings to their form.

“I appear human, to you,” they insisted again.

“Dream, I say this with all the love in my heart, which is quite a lot because I do. Love you.” He leaned on his hand, looking at Dream with sparkling eyes. “You look about as human as a kid wearing a bedsheet looks like a ghost.”

Dream stared at him, mouth agape.

“Don’t worry, it’s a gorgeous costume,” Hob said. “Love it. Really, really do. But I could always tell that wasn’t the whole truth of the matter. Especially once I got close.” With this, he winked.

“A part of me is human,” Dream said. Had Hob truly always seen through them? Paid so close attention as to perceive the translucence of the mask? “For I am the dreams of humanity.”

“And a part of you isn’t,” said Hob. “For—” he mimicked the cadence of Dream’s speech, though not in a mocking way— “you are also the dreams of birds, and shadows, and stars.”

Dream nodded. “These and more.”

“Brilliant,” said Hob.

Brilliant, Dream thought.

Then Hob tilted his head, thinking back. “You expected me not to like that?”

“Recently,” said Dream slowly, “I found I could not maintain this form without pain. And so my hand was forced.” It hurt still, to think of. “I had no choice but to make my true form—or rather, my true formlessness—known to you if I wished to be here at all.”

Hob pushed himself up from where he was lying on Dream’s chest, and instead straddled his hips so he could take Dream’s face between his hands. “It hurts?” he demanded.

“At times,” said Dream. “More so. Since.” They didn’t finish the sentence.

“Why are you doing it now, then?”

“It does not hurt so much now,” Dream said. “It is simply that when I stay static, it begins to. Ache.”

“Ache,” Hob repeated, looking stricken. “Dream, if it hurts, then change back. Be a chimera or whatever the hell you were doing before.”

“That is how you interpreted it?”

“To be honest, I don’t think my brain was really interpreting it at all. You were just kind of… everything.” He stroked a fingertip along the fine bone of Dream’s wing, which was folded against their back now. “Did like the wings, though.”

“I’d noticed that.”

“Cheeky.” Hob shook himself. “Getting distracted. The point is, don’t hurt yourself. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself.” He tipped his head against Dream’s, lips to their skin. “Much rather see you how were today.”

“How?”

“Letting go. Enjoying yourself.” He smirked, Dream felt it against their temple. “Making all kind of lovely noises. Squealing. Shrieking—”

“I was not shrieking.”

“You were shrieking.”

Hob tickled his fingers through Dream’s feathers, and Dream made an embarrassing squeak. They smacked Hob in the face with that wing, and Hob burst out laughing, even though he had to pull a feather out of his teeth.

“I love you,” he said. “Don’t hurt yourself. Be... the indefinably strange creature that you are. And just trust me to keep up.”

Hob kissed them lightly on the lips. Dream leaned into him, made still for a moment by the depth of Hob’s care for them, how Hob caught all of their longing and swallowed it, kept it warm. How he loved Dream. And dreams.

Hob drew them both down to the bed, and the covers over them, and Dream let their other forms creep out, hesitant, but hungry for Hob’s affection. And a creature that was the sky’s dream of nightfall and the poetry of rain upon a still lake, that was the individual patterns of snowflakes and the sculptures built of their drifts, that was ambitious owl and frightened vole, quiet soil and its thoughtful worms, shape and narrative and human, too, of course, laid down its many heads, and curled its much-loved wings over its lover, and rested in his dreams.

#i wrote this so fast in truly a fit of insanity... hope it's hot and not just weird! it's definitely weird though #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #nsft #my writing #gabessquishytum #eldritch smut

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runariya · 3 months ago

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Hey! A oneshot about junkook

Emojis: 🥸🥂🦢💎

Sentence: Under the starry sky, on a quiet rooftop, he gently pulls Y/N closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Dance with me?” he whispers. With the soft hum of distant music, they sway in sync, their eyes locked, saying everything without a word.

Is it too much to ask?

(yandere+party+dance+mafia) part of the prompt game pairing: mafia heir!Jungkook x f!reader genre: mafia!AU, idrk tbh... warnings: yandere-ish, psychological games, knife, murder word count: 1.475

a/n: First off, I'm deeply sorry for taking ages to get back to you...this ask has been sitting in my inbox for two weeks or so 🥺 and also, I'm sorry too that I turned your sentence into a whole scene; I just couldn't manage the themes any other way...I hope you're still enjoying it tho...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The city shines beneath you, raw and electric, its pulse resonating deep in the soles of your feet as you stand on the rooftop of Jungkook’s club—darkness unfurling in every direction like a ravenous beast that devours all that dares exist within its reach. Below you, the night roars with a dissonance of fragmented voices, music, and chaos, but up here, the world recedes into a distant rumble, a barely perceptible murmur as you breathe in the cool air under a starlit sky that stretches endlessly. There is a peculiar intimacy in this place, a stillness held together only by the rhythm of your own heartbeat, a world that feels exclusively yours and his.

And him—Jungkook—stands in the darkness, the faint amber glow of distant city lights slicing across his features, casting him into an aura more menacing than the whispered legends. They speak of him as a mafia heir, a heartbreaker, a killer—the very embodiment of temptation and danger. You have heard every tale, repeated them to yourself until the fear wrapped in desire became a sickening thrill. Now, he watches you, his black eyes smouldering under the muted light, filled with an inscrutable intensity that makes your skin crawl in ways both unsettling and exhilarating.

He is the one who chose this place for your meeting, away from the searing heat and relentless beat of his club—a sanctuary where bodies press together in abandon, where souls dissolve into music, each moment crafted for excess and oblivion. You recall earlier, being immersed in that turbulent whirlwind of sound and colour, every motion deliberate yet devoid of meaning. You observed him from across the room, a dark figure amid the frenzy, solitary despite the throngs eager for his attention.

But now, it is just the two of you. You feel his breath carried by the wind that coils around you, sense his gaze tracing your form with a predatory warmth concealed beneath his dangerously alluring charm. From the moment you met him, you recognised his peril—danger that insinuates itself into your veins before you realise, too late, the gravity of your mistake. Each encounter, each step forward has been a testament to a decision you should never have made but did anyways.

Your hands instinctively curl at your sides, the smooth edge of the knife pressed reassuringly against your thigh like a talisman since the day you learned about his obsession for you. The rooftop remains silent, you have played this game for so long, you’re not even sure how not let silence reign. Every glance, every word a strategic move in a game of masks and deceptions, with an ending that has always seemed inevitable.

“Dance with me?” he whispers, his voice low and seemingly tender, the sort of sound that could be mistaken for affection. But you know better. You understand the truth hidden beneath the softness, the destruction in every action and breath of Jungkook’s.

And so you nod, almost laughable how easily you surrender to this illusion of tenderness, letting him draw you close, his strong arms encircling your waist, his warmth and magnificent scent enveloping you. The rooftop feels smaller, the world compressed to the space between you as you begin to sway, a slow, gentle rhythm where neither of you leads. The stars blink down, your hearts the sole soundtrack to this moment.

His touch is deceptively mellow, his fingers grazing your back like a lover’s caress. You tilt your head up, locking gazes with him, and there’s something there—something that makes you reconsider everything you’re here for. His eyes are dark and fathomless, promising both violence and sweetness, and you briefly wonder what he truly sees when he looks at you.

For a moment, you let yourself dissolve into the intimacy, shedding the burden of your own deceit. There’s a part of you—a hidden, secret part—that has yearned for this, craved this proximity. It is almost twisted, how much you have longed for the danger he embodies, how you have relished the thrill of being so near to something so perilously lethal.

But soon enough, reality intrudes. The cold, harsh truth shaking your thoughts, reminding you why you are here and what you must do. You have followed him for months, shadowing his every move, orchestrating moments, manipulating events to draw close enough. And now you stand here, wrapped in his embrace, your body pressed against his, the perfect moment within grasp.

“Why do you trust me?” you ask softly, your voice dripping with naive sweetness. He smiles, but it’s a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a smile that conceals secrets you will never fully uncover.

“I don’t,” he replies simply, as if the answer were self-evident. His hand tightens slightly on your waist, just enough to remind you of the power he wields, the danger embedded in every movement of his. “But perhaps I like living on the edge.”

A silence stretches between you as you gaze in each other eyes, and you know this is the moment. Your hand moves almost instinctively, retrieving the blade from its concealed place at your side, the cool metal catching the light as you prepare to strike.

But Jungkook is quicker. His grip on you tightens abruptly, his hand darting up to seize your wrist with a vice-like strength he’s known for. The look in his eyes shifts, a flash of dark, knowing intent before his lips curl into a dangerous smile.

“So it’s you,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr that ought to terrify you, yet instead makes your heart flutter. “I’ve been wondering.”

Your head spins, adrenaline surging as you attempt to pull free, but his hold remains firm. You feel the expanse of his strength, the taut muscles flexing beneath his shirt, the effortless power he commands. Yet you suppress your fear, focusing on your purpose, remembering why you are here.

“You’re not as clever as you think,” you hiss, your voice sharper than intended, tinged with desperation. “I’ve been watching you, following you. I know everything.”

He laughs softly, a rich, chilling sound that courses through you as he leans forward to brush his lips against your temple. “Do you, though? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be standing here now.”

For a fleeting moment, doubt creeps in, your resolve wavering in the face of his calm confidence. He is too composed, too collected, and it unnerves you. But then you remind yourself—this is merely another layer of his game, another manipulation. He seeks to destabilise you, you claim you like a possession, and finally to make you doubt yourself. But you refuse to let him.

With a sudden burst of effort, you wrench your wrist free, the blade pointed, ready, as you aim for his throat. But Jungkook is faster—always faster. His hand shoots up, seizing your arm with a force that sends a sharp pain through your limb, and before you can react, he twists the knife from your grasp, sending it clattering to the rooftop floor.

Breathless, heart pounding, you refuse to back down. You lunge at him, but he effortlessly restrains you, pulling you close once more. A smirk curls on his lips, dark satisfaction in his eyes, and it fuels your anger.

“You’re too reckless,” he murmurs, his voice a low, hot hum against your ear. “Too emotional.”

But you no longer listen. Your mind races, your body trembles with adrenaline, and you know this is your only chance. You must end this—now—before he ends you.

In a sudden, desperate move, you twist in his grasp, reaching for the knife on the ground. You feel the cool handle beneath your fingers and, in one distressed move, drive it upwards towards his chest.

Time seems to slow. You feel the resistance as the blade penetrates flesh, hear the sharp intake of breath as Jungkook’s body tenses. His eyes widen slightly, a fleeting surprise crossing his features before it morphs into something darker, almost… satisfied.

Then he is falling, his grip loosening as he collapses to the ground. You rise, standing over him, breathing heavily, staring down as the gravity of your actions begins to settle in.

Jungkook lies there, blood pooling beneath him, his eyes still fixed on yours. There is no fear, no anger—just an almost amused resignation.

“Guess you win,” he rasps, his voice barely a whisper. “But… was it worth it?”

You remain silent, unable to answer, because for the first time, you’re unsure.

The rooftop is quiet now, the city below still murmuring its distant song, but up here, everything feels still. The stars blink down, as indifferent as ever, and you finally realise that the danger, the thrill, the chase—it was never really about him. It was about you.

#prompt game #anon ask #ari answers #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts army #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jjk x reader #Jungkook mafia #bts mafia #Jungkook yandere #mafia au #jungkook

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anonymousewrites · 9 months ago

Text

A Good Day for Death Valentine's Day Special 2024

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Ordinarily, Wednesday wasn’t a fan of Valentine’s Day. It was too sappy for her, and romance wasn’t her thing. That being said, everyone else being out on dates or with friends meant that Nevermore was quiet, and if there was one thing Wednesday liked, it was solitude.

She could come out of her dorm with her typewriter to work on her novel without being bothered. She finished her work for the day, packed away her typewriter, and walked towards the library to pick out a book to read.

Wednesday paused as she passed a hallway full of empty classrooms. Sounds echoed out from within, music and singing with a mysterious tune. Wednesday wasn’t someone to not investigate, so she walked down the corridor and arrived at a classroom. She looked in and saw the projector turned on and playing an animated movie. The character on screen sang dramatically, the sound reverberating through the silent school.

“Our son will be married, According to plan.”

Wednesday glanced between the unique animation and looked at the desks at the front of the room. She was a bit surprised to see (Y/N) alone. They were leaning on their hands while watching the movie.

“(Y/N)?” said Wednesday.

(Y/N) started and turned. They smiled when they noticed who it was. “Oh, hi, Wednesday!” They reached over and paused the movie. “How are you?”

“I thought everyone had gone out for the holiday,” said Wednesday.

(Y/N) shrugged. “All of my friends had dates.”

“I do not,” said Wednesday.

“We’re friends?” said (Y/N) teasingly.

“By the typical definition, I suppose,” said Wednesday, but she knew that they were. And, of course, she had a crush on (Y/N), but that was neither here nor there (another lie).

(Y/N) grinned. “Whatever you say!” They tilted their head. “What are you up to today while everyone else is out?”

“I worked on my novel,” said Wednesday, walking farther down in the room to the row of desks (Y/N) sat out.

“That’s cool. I just slept in, wrote a few melancholy poems about love—very ‘tragic poet’ of me, I know—and came in here to watch a movie,” said (Y/N). “Do you want to join me? If you’re not going to do anything.”

“I had planned to read,” said Wednesday.

“Oh, well, then, have fun,” said (Y/N), a little (lot) disappointed that Wednesday didn’t want to hang out. They knew their crush wasn’t exactly a people-person in any sense of the word, but they had hoped maybe she’d want to spend time with them since they were both alone and friends.

“…How long is this movie?” said Wednesday.

(Y/N) brightened. “A little over an hour.”

Wednesday pretended to consider, but she already knew she was going to stay. (Y/N)’s companionship was nice, and a nice moment alone with her crush would be…pleasant since usually Wednesday was also around other people.

“I will still have time to read,” decided Wednesday. “I’ll stay.” She sat down at the desk next to (Y/N). “What are we watching?”

“Corpse Bride,” said (Y/N). “It’s a fun Tim Burton musical. It’s on the spooky side. My mom and I watched it a lot growing up.”

“Is it a love story?” asked Wednesday.

“Yeah, but it’s got ghosts and murder and mystery, so you’ll enjoy it, too,” said (Y/N).

“You chose something you thought I would enjoy?” said Wednesday, not missing anything.

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and they chuckled nervously. “Well, you know, I knew you’d be in Nevermore, so I thought I’d choose something you’d enjoy in case you came in.”

Wednesday felt the now-familiar—but still disturbing—warmth enter her chest at (Y/N)’s consideration. “That’s…unusual.”

“To think of my friend?” (Y/N) laughed. “You need to get more friends, Wednesday.”

“I don’t have an affinity for people,” said Wednesday.

“Neither do I,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “I guess we make sense together, then. Two people not great with others but okay with each other.”

Wednesday allowed herself a smile. “I suppose so.” She steeled her features and faced the screen. “Now, how much have I missed?”

“Oh, not much! The movie just started. Basically, what you need to know is…” (Y/N) began to ramble.

Wednesday had to fight not to stare at them as they spoke so passionately and happily. It was pleasant to watch them be so happy and bright. Wednesday knew they were right: she and (Y/N) worked well together. They understood each other well, and Wednesday liked that (Y/N) was her friend. And it was nice to know they felt the same way.

It was amusing that neither knew they felt the same in another way.

Taglist:

@strawberriesareprettycool

@im-making-an-effort

@champagnewitnocham

@simpcreator

@ksunoosworld

@dot-and-co

@genderfluid-anime-goth

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@tired-writing-reader