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sadburntbread · 1 day ago

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BATFAM X NEGLECTED! MALE READER - PART TWO -

----- Warnings before you read ----- torture, experimentation, angst, death, use of needles

A soft ringing noise wakes you from your rest, you tried to find the cause of it, however you couldn't find the strength to open your eyes. Slowly, the noise got louder. The ringing caused a pounding in your head that made you desperately want to cover your ears, to try and block out the terrible noise. Then, it faded into a low ringing, not exactly perfect but much better.

It was in that moment of peace that everything came back to you, your family, the fight, your death.

You suddenly felt cold; an unbearable chill ran through your body. You weren't sure if the sudden chill was from the fear of your death or if it was because of the temperature. You wondered if this was how your mother felt when she died. No, you don't want to think about her, knowing how disappointed she would be in you. Your heart started racing as panic began to set in, a single thought repeated over and over again, like a mantra inside your head.

"I don't want to die"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE"

You needed to calm down and breathe.

Your body felt heavy as if tons of weight were resting on it, everything hurt. everything but your arm... Why couldn't you feel your arm? You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and your breath getting shorter-

Then your breath caught as you realized something, you could feel your heart beating. That had to mean you weren't dead. With this realization you tried even harder to open your eyes, you struggled for a few minutes before you could finally crack them open. You took a few moments to look around the room. The walls and floor were completely concrete with a red door near the foot of the bed you were in, to the right you noticed a small rolling table that seemed to have tools on it, but you weren't able to see from your current position. A soft clack of metal caused your attention to drift to your left hand; you were strapped down by a thick piece of metal. When you tried to lift that arm you noticed that one of the screws were loose, maybe you could unscrew it with your other hand. Your gaze drifted over, and you noticed a large wrap around your stomach, your heart shuddered as you decided to ignore that, escape comes first. As you looked over, all the hope left you. Your arm was gone, cut off just below the shoulder. It was wrapped in some white gauze that was drenched in blood.

A loud creek caused your body to tense, looking over to the cause of the sound, you saw a man holding a clipboard walk in. He wore a long lab coat and had a stethoscope draped around his neck. His dark brown hair just barely reached his shoulders; his eyes had a bored look to them however, as soon as he noticed that you were awake his eyes lit up.

"Good morning!" he walked up to your right side and looked closely at the bandage. "You woke up a bit faster than I thought you would. Very good" After a moment he clicked his tongue at the state of the bandage. The man then walked over to the small table, placed his clipboard down and rolled it over to the bed. Thanks to this you were able to see most the stuff on it. There were multiple tools that looked like something a doctor would use and a few that you couldn't recognize. You opened your mouth to speak, to ask the man where you were. However, as if reading your thoughts he stopped you. "Try not to speak for a few days. Your throat was damaged a bit during the explosion. But you don't need to worry, you are safe here. I will take good care of you". His soft smile did not match the look in his eyes. "Your stomach was in the worst shape, you lost a lot of important internal organs, but I was able to get some...replacements" You wanted to ask the man what he meant but decided to save the questions for later. The man then began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder, his touch was gentle, yet it still caused a sharp pain to shoot through your body. You grunted in discomfort but that only seemed to make your throat ache. The man then shook his head and sighed. "See? what did I tell you about speaking?", You wanted to argue that a grunt wasn't speaking, and it only happened because of him but the lingering pain in your throat caused you to instead just give him a glare. The man simply ignored your glare and instead picked up a fresh roll of gauze and rewrapped your shoulder you had to hold back any sounds in fear of the pain from your throat. He then looked at your throat. "This one was replaced a just a few hours ago, and lucky for you I am almost done with the replacement for your arm". At his words you shot him a surprised look, was this something Bruce paid for? You found it hard to believe given the state of the room you were in.

While you were lost in thought, the man then pulled out a needle and stuck it into the side of your neck, the pain was immediate. You let out a sharp yell which only made it worse. You looked up at the man, he was speaking to you, but you couldn't hear what he said. Your eyes got cloudy before sleep pulled you under.

The next time you woke up you were in a different room, this one was bright, the walls were white and there was a large light positioned overtop of you. The man from before slouched in his chair on your right side. He seemed very focused on what he was doing, he hadn't even noticed that you wake up yet. You steadied yourself and watched the man, making sure not to move any muscle more than necessary. You knew that the best thing to do in this situation was to stay quiet, after all this unknown man held a sharp tool against your skin. He seemed to be attaching the nerves to something metal, an arm you guessed, you couldn't see form this angle.

Your gaze was trained on the man as he worked. You realized that you didn't feel any pain from the operation, you realized that it must've been from whatever drug he injected you with before.

It took a while, but the man finished with a satisfied expression. After checking over his work he looked to you, a look of surprise crossed his face as he noticed you awake.

"Oh my, how long have you been awake?" He asked, as if you could answer him with what he did to your throat. Your glare seemed to speak volumes because he let out a laugh "Don't worry, you can speak now. You have an incredible healing speed. Definitely something to take advantage of" The man seemed to mumble the last part.

"Who are you?" Your voice was rough and scratchy from not using it. How long have you been out?? "Where am I?" You tried to sound threating, however given your current situation, you probably looked no more intimidating than an injured doe.

The man smiled back "I am the one who saved you, my name is Dr. Crane. During the fight between Batman and Joker you were left to die, the building you were placed in blew up. Luckly for you I was grabbing supplies for an experiment nearby and happened to be passing through the wreckage", He watched you carefully as he recounted that day's events, "Unfortunately, there was no saving your right arm. After all, it was hardly attached. Not to even mention the terrible state of your stomach, I was surprised you were even alive, it was then that I knew I had to have you as my patient. However, I had to sever the remaining bit of your arm and drag you with me. Once we were safe and far enough, I stitched you up enough to survive and brought you back to my lab."

You knew you couldn't trust him however knowing your family left you to die shattered your heart. You never thought they would just leave. You realized then that you had never truly mattered to them; you were just a tool. You resigned yourself to the painful truth before asking Dr. Crane another question.

"So, what do you plan to do with me? Kill me? Use me against Batman, I'm sure you figured out his identity because of me". You felt tired. Honestly, at that point you wished you had died, at least then you would've been able to see your mother again, feel her warm arms wrap around you, more comforting than a blanket.

At your question the man let out a laugh. "What I plan to do? It is simple. I plan to make you into my greatest project. No one will stand in your way when I am done." He seemed excited at the mere thought of your future success, "Ah, and about Batman. I honestly could not care less about him; I am a scientist after all, my projects are the most important to me".

You squinted your eyes at him, disbelief coating your features. However, you paused when you saw him reaching for a needle. "What is that for?" You demanded.

"Well, I thought since you keep waking up, we can try a few experiments. you seem healed enough for now". With that he injected the needled into your upper left arm. Pain shot through your body. Red dots danced through your vision; you hollered out in pain. You tried to move away from the pain, how? the pain is everywhere, but you were strapped to the table. Dr. Crane only watched as you withered in pain. You thought you were going to pass out, but you couldn't allow yourself to.

Use him. Use this man's smarts and take revenge on Bruce. For what he did to you. Don't give into the pain. Stay awake!

A voice echoed in your head pulling you from unconsciousness, forcing you awake. Forcing you to suffer through the pain.

Someone- Please it hurts. Please, make it stop! Save me! PLEASE!

Your pleading only seemed to make the voice stronger in your ears, refusing to let you rest. Until finally, the pain subsided into a dull ache across your body. You could feel your own face wet with sweat and tears, your body trembled and twitched. Your eyes were blurry as you tried to focus them on Dr. Crane.

"You managed to stay awake?" the surprise evident in his voice, "Interesting..." Dr. Crane rustled around the table, picking up a small vile and holding it up to your lips, "Let's keep going until you can't anymore. Ok, M/n?" Although he phrased it as a question, you didn't get the luxury to answer before he poured the liquid down your throat. You tried to turn your head, but he squeezed your cheeks with his other hand and forced your mouth open and your head still. You could feel the strange liquid slide down your throat as you tried not to swallow. Eventually you couldn't hold it anymore and had to swallow it down.

Dr. Crane did many experiments that day, you don't remember how many, only the unforgettable, excruciating pain. You lost count of the experiments after around number five.

You learned a new meaning of pain that day.

You don't know how long you were out, but when you woke up again you were in the first room you started out in. You realized you weren't strapped to the bed this time. After gathering the strength to move you got up and looked around the room, for a way out. A Sharp pain emerged from your stomach and arm thanks to the movement. Ignore it, you told yourself, there's more important things to focus on. It was obvious that your only hope was the door. So, you walked to it, using the wall for assistance.

The door was locked, you sighed, of course it was. The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the halls; you hurried back to your bed and just as you sat down, Dr. Crane walked in carrying a tray with food. After noticing you sitting back down, he let out a small huff.

"Now, now. If you're going to be trying to escape, I will have to strap you back down". He sounded like he was scolding a disobedient child. Dr. Crane placed the food down on the table that was now cleared of tools, aside from some gauze. He rolled the table over to you. On the tray was mashed potatoes, some kind of soup, and water. You looked down at the food, unsure. Dr. Crane, noticing your reluctance, picked up the spoon and grabbed some mashed potatoes, he made eye contact with you, then ate the spoonful. "See? Nothing to be afraid of, no poison. We well work on poison resistance another time"

You hesitated before hunger took ahold; you quickly scarfed down the food, as if someone would take it away. Dr. Crane watched as you ate, making sure you finished it all. You chose to ignore the obvious hint of amusement in his eyes.

"How long have I been here?" You asked once you finished eating. Dr. Crane seemed pleased that you spoke with him, he most likely assumed you would hate him. You do; you just need information.

"It has been 9 months and 13 days since I brought you here". He answered, "but, who's counting?"

You hesitated for a moment however you couldn't hold the question back. "And my family, do they know?" Your voice was quiet, as if you didn't want to hear the answer. As you met Dr. Crane's gaze your eyes held an unspeakable plea, one not even you could understand. As if Dr. Crane could read your every thought; he left your question unanswered. You laid down on your side, away from Dr. Crane, as though hiding from the truth. Dr. Crane gathered the empty dishes and left in silence; the soft click of the door rang through the air.

The next day Dr. Crane sat and chatted with you as you ate. When you finished eating, he grabbed the tray and pulled a newspaper out of his pocket and set it down on the small table. Once he left the room you cautiously picked it up. After reading the headline you felt your heart drop in sadness? fear? anger? you couldn't say for sure.

"BRUCE WAYNE REFUSES TO SPEAK AT M/N WAYNE FUNERAL"

Your fingers traced the words, then drifted to the article. Your funeral was court and simple, much like your mother's. Her voice soft in your ear as you read.

See? they never cared about you. Take revenge on them. Don't forget all those years of neglect.

The voice was all around you, there was no escape from it. It demanded revenge, you began wanting it to.

Days turned into months, then years. Every day was similar; Dr. Crane would do experiments; he'd keep testing new things until you passed out. After the experiments He would bring you food, during these times he'd always sit and talk with you, it would be about anything that came to mind, you began to feel a type of connection with him. You almost felt like he was your friend, or maybe like the big bother you always wished you had. You resigned yourself to this fate, vowing to one day get the revenge that voice promised you.

After the first couple months Dr. Crane started putting his experiments to the test. He'd take you to what he called the 'training room'. It was a white padded room with vents in all corners. There you would train in strength, agility, resistance and even testing your smarts. The worst experiment that would happen in this room was when he would release a poisonous gas, you were told to bear with it, and you did, past limits you once thought you had.

Other times he put the room to a terrible cold temperature, leaving you with nothing more than your boxers. Even as frost bite gnawed at your bare body, you gritted your teeth and refused to give into the pain.

Everyday Dr. Crane would try injecting you with something new he invented. Sometimes the drug would fail, and he would have to rework it until he deemed it a success, then after that he would take you to the training room to test it.

It was a miserable experience. However, it allowed the betrayal and hatred to build over the years you were there.

You were strong, stronger than ever before. You had him to thank for it, and you knew it. So, you resolved to give him a painless death. You had been planning your escape for years and finally you could leave and extract your revenge. As you looked down to Dr. Crane's smiling face, you knew you did what you had to do. However, you could not stop the silent tears that fell down your face. In one way or another, this man had become someone you learned to care for.

"Wonderful..." Dr. Crane's voice was shaky, he coughed up some blood. So much for a painless death. "No, don't cry over this. You are my greatest success; through your actions I will live on". His voice faded as the fire you caused wrapped around the two of you. However, His eyes remained open, so you leaned down and closed them as a final gesture of gratitude, then you left. You walked through the fire that consumed the lab, the building crumbled around you. The scene almost beautiful in a way, your white pajama pants slightly charred at the ends, you didn't even flinch as your bare feet stepped on the burning embers.

Thanks to Dr. Crane you have truly become a monster, driven only by the need for revenge.

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags @mallowryblog @blover143 @venomsvl @sunnyfield

#male reader #batfam x reader #batfam #batfam x male reader #batfam x neglected reader #batfamily #batman angst #batman #batfamily x reader #batfamily x neglected reader #batfamily x male reader

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minh907 · 2 days ago

Note

A YANDARE JINWOO WHO GETS OBSESSED WITH A ERANK HEALER READER WHO DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHO HE IS OR BIG HUNTERS ARE LIKE SHE JUTS WANNA SAVE LIVES.

(idk if u do yandare though😓)

Whatever this feeling is.

Yandere!Jinwoo x E-rank Healer!Reader.

____________________________

You never thought of becoming a hunter.

In fact, if you could, you would rather live a normal life like everyone else: go to work in the morning, come home in the afternoon to eat with your family, read a few pages of a book and go to sleep.

But this world is not for 'normal' people. When the gate appears, when monsters start to flood across the border, you are forced to choose: either become prey, or become part of the war. You are an E-rank healer - not enough power to fight, cannot lead any party, and are often left behind in raids.

But you don't care. You don't need the power to kill monsters.

You just want to save as many people as possible.

___________________________

The first time you met Jinwoo was in a C-rank dungeon. The party was short of people, and you and Jinwoo were thrown in to 'make up the head count.' They didn't expect anything from you. It was only natural, you were weak, healing magic was like a drop in the ocean.

Then everything became chaotic when a high orc suddenly appeared. The party disbanded, everyone ran away. In the chaos, you saw a person with a severe injury on his arm, curled up near the stone wall, blood pooling at his feet.

No one came to help.

They didn't want to help him. You knew that he was someone of the same rank as you. Jinwoo was only an E-rank, even called The weakest hunter of all mankind, so everyone thought it was useless to save him.

But you didn't think so.

Your determination to save everyone never wavered even though hope was barely visible to you because you valued each person's life as if it equaled one thousand pieces of gold. Your belief in saving him compelled you to rush toward him before you dropped to your knees. Your hand trembled from anxiety while you pressed it against his bleeding wound to stop the bleeding and save his life.

Stay motionless and wait patiently for only a short time because everything will turn out fine. I'll heal you," you said, not looking up at his face.

A light glinted from your palm - weak, small, but strangely gentle.

You didn't see the way he looked at you - as if you'd opened a crack of light in his thousand-year darkness.

"Are you...a healer?" He spoke in a raspy tone which made his question sound like he had not interacted with anyone in days.

"Yeah. E-rank, nothing special." You gave him a small smile, as gentle as a touch to a wound.Then you give him your handkerchief so he can wipe the dirt off his face.

And he didn't say anything else. He just looked at you. Silent. Silent to the point of suffocation.

__________________________

After that day, you didn't think too much about it. The dungeon ended, you went home, took a shower, ate instant noodles, and went to bed early for tomorrow.

And yes, everything was still going on normally, you had also gradually forgotten about the E-rank hunter who was on the brink of death and was saved by you.

Little did you know that from the moment you bent down among the blood and stone dust, the faint light from your hand touched the body of a person who seemed to have been abandoned by the world, you became all he had left.

Little did you know that Jinwoo wanted to die that day.

He entered the dungeon to earn money, to support his family, to try to earn at least some money to make his life better. But that day, after being attacked by the high orc, he lost his faith in life. The title of 'weakest hunter' hung over his head like a curse, turning him into a shadow of himself.

Until you came. Not with a weapon. Not with a look of disdain. Just with trembling hands and a choked voice, you said "I will save you."

No conditions. No expectations. No matter who he was.

For the first time in his life, Jinwoo felt alive.

____________________________

Weeks later, things continued as usual.

You took on a few healing missions for low-rank hunter groups, or simply went whenever someone needed another hunter to fill the space. You ate cheap sandwiches for breakfast, drank cold coffee, and then went to the guild to sign up for the next mission. Life was simple, steady.

You didn't think about Jinwoo.

It wasn't that you tried to forget - it was that you never thought you were important enough for anyone to remember. In this world, an E-rank healer like you - no one remembered your name, no one bothered to notice.

And at that time, the whole country was buzzing about the appearance of the country's 10th S-rank hunter.

You don't know who he is. And you don't really care.

Honestly, you don't really care about the names of famous hunters. To you, names like Choi Jong-In or Baek Yoonho are just wind. The same goes for this new S-rank hunter. After all, you're just an E-rank healer, and those stronger than you aren't interested in a lowly rank like you. Right?

The moment after that incident you began to experience unusual feelings.

The feeling of being watched accompanied you throughout your time outside the house. Your steps became trapped by a weighty stare which clung to you as if it were an endless moonless darkness.

______________________

Snow falls lightly outside the window, creeping through the thin curtains like white ghosts. You tighten your coat as you step out of the subway station, the cold air stabbing your neck like hundreds of needles. You exhale a thin puff of smoke and walk quickly towards the training area where an F-rank team has asked you to help them recover today.

A normal day. A normal mission.

...It's just that the feeling doesn't go away.

It feels like an invisible gaze is watching. The behavior remains neither threatening nor welcoming. You feel trapped inside a glass enclosure while an unseen observer watches you from outside.

You turn around again.

It's still the same familiar street, a few people walking by in a hurry, an old woman selling fried fish balls is playing an old radio. Nothing strange. No one.

You tighten your lips while reassuring yourself before keeping your stride.

A hazy dream awoke you during the night although you could not recall its contents. During your dream you ran through a dark corridor while behind you heard slow footsteps following you. No matter how you ran, it was still behind you, each step, each breath close to your ear.

You turned on the lights in your room, trying to find peace. But the warm yellow light couldn't dispel the cold feeling that had clung to your spine from deep within.

Little did you know, at the same time, in another part of the city, a man stood in the darkness, looking at you through the eyes of a shadow soldier in your shadow that you couldn't tell when or how he had placed it.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, as if if he left, you would disappear. Jinwoo had found you. A long time ago. He just hadn't shown up yet.

Because he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting until you couldn't run away. When you have nowhere to run.

Wait until you belong to him.

_________________________

Today's job is to support a new group of hunters. You stand by the dungeon entrance wearing a light cloak while holding your elbows tight to stay warm. A gust of cold air passes through your collar opening while you shiver although the real cause of your goosebumps stems from something else.

It's the feeling.

You feel someone standing near your back although no one actually stands there.

You turn around. There are only a few hunters checking their weapons, passersby walking by, and a stray cat sitting under a tree licking its paws.

No one is there.

You exhaled, reassuring yourself. 'I'm just tired, maybe I need to rest.'

You had no idea that a dark figure remained hidden in the building shadows just meters behind you while keeping watch with shadow soldier eyes.

From his position in front of the big window, Jinwoo gazed down at the city below while fixating on a spot only he could perceive.

He whispered softly "My angel" with a broken voice.

His hand gripped the cold coffee cup. Not because of the cold. But because his palm was shaking.

Not because of fear. But because of desire.

From the first time you touched him - with that trembling hand, that faint light - something inside him had cracked. Or rather, woken up.

No one had saved him. No one had ever taken him seriously. Just you.

Just you.

______________________

You get used to the feeling of being watched.

You accept it in a way that does not provide comfort. You learn to accept the marks that will never heal like bruises or scars you wish to forget. You don't tell anyone, because who cares? E-rank healers have no power, no reputation, and no one around long enough to listen.

Your dreams will not allow you to ignore what is happening no matter how much you try to pretend otherwise.

Someone stands near your bed while you sleep in your dreams. You dream of a shadow moving in the corner of your eye every time you turn your head. Someone whispers your name in a gentle voice which sounds confident just like a thousand previous times of naming you.

You woke up during the night to discover a slightly open window even though you had double-checked its locked position.

Your world shows signs of reality merging with dreams because each day makes the distinction harder to discern.

A strange event occurred to you when you embarked on a D-rank dungeon quest.

The monsters avoided you.

You realized it while hiding behind a tall warrior, shoulder to shoulder with your comrades in battle. A spider-like monster suddenly rushed forward, its legs long and sharp as blades, its sound echoing like a knife scraping on stone. The group readied their weapons, preparing to receive the attack. But then it stopped.

The moment its red eyes met yours.

In that brief moment, you saw the monster freeze. Its eyes widened, not from predatory instinct, but from fear. A primal fear, almost desperate. A shrill howl escaped from its mouth before it turned to flee while its feet pounded against the stone surface creating a loud echo in the dark hallway.

The group was stunned. You were also stunned.

"What the hell?" someone exclaimed.

A hunter turned to look at you, his brows furrowed. "What did you do?"

"N-No, I just stood there," you stammered, not understanding what was happening. Your heart was pounding. You looked down at your hands, nothing out of the ordinary. No aura, no new abilities, no strange signs.

But deep down, a strange feeling began to creep in. It felt like something that didn't belong to you was following you.

You began to notice.

The single spider was not the only one. The monsters that emerged in the group's progress chose to observe you instead of their typical assault behavior. Each of them made a turn before fleeing from the scene. The creature took refuge in a corner while trembling like it sought mercy from an unseen power.

It was then that you truly felt something was wrong.

You look down and this time, in the flickering light of the torch, you catch a glimpse of your own shadow.

Not in shape, but in temperament. A dark undefined form resembling a wild creature rests behind you with its half-open black eyes observing the world through darkness.

A blink, and it's gone.

You swallow. A chill runs down your spine like a silent stream of water filling your chest.

Little do you know that, from the moment you entered the dungeon, all the monsters inside have been marked by an ancient power, a mark you can't see, can't feel, but that's covering everything you pass by. It's not coming from you but from another being that's in your shadow, or worse, watching through you.

________________________

Sung Jinwoo stood in the middle of a dungeon filled with chill – not because of the wind, but because of the presence of death that surrounded him. Hundreds of shadows swirled silently like a silent storm, not a sound, but all focused on him, loyal, absolute, and alert.

He stood alone in the center.

He held a small object in his hand, an old handkerchief, the edge of which had a friend's name embroidered in silver thread. A sign of ridiculous gentleness in this hellish space.

"Do not touch her," Jinwoo said, his voice as deep as the abyss, each word as sharp as a cold knife. "Only observe and protect."

The shadows said nothing, but one stepped forward, Beru. Beru knelt on one knee, his wings folded, his eyes glowing like two turquoises under his black mask.

"My King..." Beru hissed softly, "May I ask?"

Jinwoo did not look at Beru. His deep eyes gazed at the handkerchief while showing an unusual softness.

"Why don't you come to see her?" Beru bowed slightly. "I can feel your heart screaming for her."

The pale blue illumination of shadows fell upon Jinwoo's face. He held the handkerchief with gentle pressure while feeling each individual thread without causing any wrinkles. He whispered. "...She's not ready."

Beru raised his head, his eyes flashing with confusion, a rare emotion for a Shadow.

"Your Majesty, but she's weak. She's alone. You can protect her. You have to go-"

"No."

Jinwoo's voice cut in, soft, but the room froze. Jinwoo breathed slowly. His eyes closed for a moment, as if forcing himself. "If I come now, she'll hide."

There was a moment of silence, then Jinwoo raised his head. Those eyes, the color of night, but burning, like a furnace without oxygen, were now locked into nothingness, as if looking through time, through space at you.

"But soon."

He lowered his face to gently kiss the border of the handkerchief.

"She will understand."

Beru said nothing more.

He just nodded, then turned back to the darkness, where the Shadows silently continued to circle Jinwoo, who was holding onto a small piece of cloth as if it was the last piece of his soul that kept him from going insane.

____________________________

You never intended to join this raid.

Today was supposed to be your day off, a rare luxury, when you could sleep until dawn. But then the guild called, the voice urgent on the phone. "We need a healer. Just one more healer. This is a C-rank dungeon, easy to clear, high pay."

You hesitated, but the mention of high pay made your empty wallet feel lighter. Rent was due next week, and the cures weren't much cheaper.

A new group of strangers were standing at the dungeon entrance and you too were standing there. Upon your arrival no one took the effort to learn your name.

"Just stay behind and don't get killed," the leader told you with a dismissive wave.

You nodded silently. You had already experienced this kind of treatment before.

A jagged opening in the mountainside serves as the entrance to the dungeon which appears dark and foreboding. You feel unease rising in your chest as you enter with the group.

Something's not right today.

But before you can voice your concerns, the entrance slams shut behind you with a loud bang. The group freezes, weapons half drawn, eyes wide with shock.

"What the hell?" someone shouts.

Then it happens.

The walls around you glow an ominous crimson, illuminating shocked faces in a bloody light. The earth trembles as you stand on it. A terrifying ancient sound resonates within the cave which produces no resemblance to any known animal roar.

The leader's arrogant tone fades as he utters "A red gate. It's a fucking red gate."

Everyone knew what that meant. There was no escape. There was no rescue. Either clear the dungeon or die trying.

Your heart pounded in your chest like a caged animal. Red Gates were deadly traps. Even S-rank hunters avoided them if they could.

"Move!" the leader barked, regaining his calm with trained discipline. "Regroup, stick to the plan. We'll get through this."

But you could see the fear in his eyes. He didn't believe his own words.

The C-rank dungeon was said to have transformed. The hallways expanded into darkness while the atmosphere became heavy with rotting odors. Deformed monsters emerged from the shadows instead of typical goblins or wolves because they moved too quickly and attacked with brutal force.

The warriors formed a wall of steel and flesh while the mages rained destruction from behind. You do your part, channeling every ounce of your healing power to close the wound and numb the pain.

But it's not enough.

One by one, they fall.

First the youngest warrior, then one of the mages. The leader holds out longer, his sword flashing like mercury until a barbed tentacle pierces his chest. You watch, paralyzed with horror, as the life drains from his eyes.

You run.

It's shameful, it's cowardly, but your body moves on its own. Your lungs burn as you run through the winding passages, the screams of your companions fading behind you.

Finally, you collapse in a small cave, your legs giving out beneath you. Your body hugs the freezing wall as you attempt to minimize your size. Your healing kit lies forgotten beside you, barely used. What good is a healer who can't save anyone?

In the dim crimson light, you see your own hands shaking. Useless. Weak.

You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable. The monsters will find you soon. A lone E-rank healer in a red portal - there is no happy ending to this story.

That's when you hear it.

Footsteps.

Not the sound of fleeing monsters or the frantic running of survivors. Deliberate steps moved through the tunnels with controlled pace and sound.

You kept your breath trapped while pushing your body against the wall to avoid detection. The footsteps grew closer. A shadow fell across the entrance to your hideout.

You expected death. You expected pain.

You heard a familiar voice which had been absent for months yet constantly disturbed your sleep.

"Found you."

Jinwoo waited at the dungeon entrance beneath the red light. But he was different from the wounded E-rank hunter you had saved. His power emitted like scorching furnace heat which felt dark and powerful. His eyes which had previously shown fatigue displayed an unnatural blue glow which penetrated deep into your spiritual core.

"You're...Sung Jinwoo!!?" You whispered.

He stepped closer, and you noticed something strange. The shadows surrounding him displayed themselves as more than simple shadows as they became animated with glowing eyes and sharp edges. His body produced these fluid entities which functioned as extensions that moved with purpose just like natural limbs.

"My Angel," His voice sounded deeper than you remembered while expressing an emotion which escaped your understanding. "I've waited so long."

His gaze produced a deep primal dread within you that differed from disgust. These weren't the eyes of the broken E-ranker you'd saved. The predator's eyes stared at me as he had finally caught his prey following a prolonged hunt.

"This is a red gate!!" Your voice shook as you struggled to understand his arrival "Everyone's dead. How did you get in? The gate was closed-"

"I turned it red," he interrupted, his voice cold and calm.

Your heart stopped for a moment. "What?"

"I turned the gate red." The shadows moved excitedly as Jinwoo approached. "I want to find you. Alone. Undisturbed."

Horror washed over you as his words sank in. "Y-You killed them? All of them?"

His expression didn't change. "They were in the way."

"In the way of what?"

"Us."

The solitary word remained suspended between us with deep significance. Your legs trembled as you pressed against the wall to stay upright. "Jinwoo, this isn't right."

His face brightened with a disturbing expression that seemed unnatural. "I had specifically wanted this outcome." He revealed his true nature as the person he wished to become. He reached out to you. "And you made it happen."

You shook your head, backing away until you hit the wall behind you. "No. I didn't do anything."

"You saved me," he insisted, eyes narrowing. "When no one else wanted to save me. When everyone else left me to die because I wasn't worth saving. You were the only one who chose to stay."

His next step brought panic as you understood there was no escape. The only escape was behind him.

He spoke in a soft voice while saying "I searched everywhere for you."

A cold realization hits you. "It was you. You were watching me."

His smile widens. "Always. My shadow follows you everywhere."

All the previous experiences in the dreams along with the sense of surveillance and abnormal monster behavior now seem meaningless.

"Why?" Your voice cracks with fear. "Why me? I'm nothing."

Jinwoo makes a swift forward movement with remarkable speed. The wall next to your head receives his first blow as he stands before you then he grabs your chin with brutal force. He glares at you as he says through clenched teeth "You will never say that to me again. You're everything. The only light in my dark world."

His eyes fix directly on yours as his pupils expand showing a strange blue light. His eyes reveal the madness which transforms into his delusional belief of love.

He whispers. "I'll protect you. Keep you safe. Forever."

You struggle to break free from his grip. "Jinwoo, please. You're hurting me."

He maintains his position yet lets go of your chin right away. His touch on your face becomes so delicate that it creates a feeling of unease. "I'd never hurt you. Never on purpose."

Pushing against his chest, you muster the last of your courage. "Give me a break. I want to go."

His face briefly flashes with what appears to be pain. Then it hardens into determination. "You don't understand yet. But you will."

The moment he stepped away you felt a tiny bit of relief but the shadows appeared. These icy chains started at your ankles before they began their slow ascent up your legs.

"What are you doing?" You panicked while attempting to shake off the shadows yet they refused to budge. The objects felt strange because they remained unbreakable as if they combined smoke and stone properties.

"Make sure you don't flee." Jinwoo's head tilted slightly as he watched you struggle with mild curiosity. "I have exercised patience. I can't wait anymore."

A deep rumbling noise spread through the dungeon before the dungeon floor creaked from approaching footsteps. Monsters, drawn by your fear and Jinwoo's strength.

"They're coming," you said desperately. "We need to go!"

"Yes," he agreed calmly. "We must leave."

The cold darkness enveloped you completely when the shadows that surrounded your feet disappeared. Your spinning head combined with blurring vision led to unconsciousness.

Your last vision showed Jinwoo's face with shining eyes while he displayed an evil look of victory.

He said softly. "You can sleep now, my angel. We'll be home when you wake up."

__________________

You come to in a nurturing surface with dim light penetrating the heavy drapes. A few seconds of disorientation sweeps over you regarding which place you have landed. The building you are in does not resemble your cramped studio space with wet roofing and noisy flooring.

An avalanche of past experiences surrounds you. The red gate. The massacre of your group. Jinwoo's confession.

You bolt up, heart pounding in your chest.

You crawl out of bed, running to the window. It doesn't open. Of course it doesn't. Next, you try the door. It's locked. You use your fists to knock on the door while yelling for help but the heavy wood remains unmoved from your strikes.

You beg for help before you drop to the floor with your back against the door. "Someone. Anyone."

Someone behind you responds with "There's no one here anymore."

You turn around with a startled yelp. Jinwoo stood in the middle of the room, though you were sure he hadn't been there a moment ago. He had changed - now wearing a perfectly tailored black suit that made him look like the CEO of some shady corporation.

"Just us," he continued, flashing that gentle, terrifying smile. "And my shadows, of course. But they won't bother you unless I tell them to."

"How did you get in? The door's locked."

Jinwoo's smile widened. "This is my territory. I can go wherever I want."

You pressed yourself against the wall, trying to put as much distance as possible. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

He moved toward you with the gentle pace of a person who wanted to avoid disturbing a wild animal. "I want exactly what I've always wanted in life. You."

"You can't just take people," you said, your voice shaking. "This is kidnapping. This is wrong."

"Wrong?" Jinwoo appeared confused as he examined your perplexed expression. "The protection of personal belongings seems inconceivable to you."

"I don't belong to you!" Your words escaped before you could recover.

You saw a flash of dangerous predatory energy cross his face before it disappeared again. A quick move had him standing directly in front of you.

"Yes," he said softly and dangerously. "You do."

His hand reached out, surprisingly gentle as it cupped your cheek. You flinched but couldn't pull away - the solid wall behind you.

His words continued "When your light shone on my darkness, your beauty claimed me from that first touch of your hand on my wound. You used to remain beyond my possession."

Shadows curled around your ankles, cold as a winter stream. More shadows gathered in the corners of the room, watching with countless shining eyes.

"But now," Jinwoo's thumb traced your lower lip, "I have all the power in the world. I finally can show my love to you."

You tried to reason with him. "Jinwoo, this isn't love. This is obsession. You don't even know me."

"I know everything about you," he countered immediately. "I know you drink coffee with two sugars but no cream. I know you read science fiction when you can't sleep. I know you volunteer at the pediatric ward at Seoul National Hospital every other Sunday." He looked you straight in the eye.

You experienced a feeling of terror when you understood the full extent of his surveillance. "Did you observe me during this entire period?"

"Since the day you saved me. Every moment. Every breath." His whispered words came closer to your ear. "You're never alone."

Your legs gave way and you slid from the wall onto the floor. His gaze never wavered as Jinwoo sank to his knees beside you.

"Why?" you whispered. "Why this obsession? I barely did anything."

He explained that people had never seen him before because they only looked through him. "People ignored me as if I did not exist. I was invisible. Worthless." His hand squeezed your face lightly. "But you saw me. You touched me without repulsion. You saved me without expecting anything in return."

The desolate quality of his voice approached a state where you almost sympathized with him. Almost.

You began to speak with deliberate intent to Jinwoo "Your current actions destroy all the kindness I have ever extended to you."

Something changed in his expression, hardening like concrete. "You don't understand yet. But you will." He stood abruptly, pulling you to your feet. "I will help you understand."

You pled for freedom while desperately trying to escape his hold. "Please. I will keep this secret between us both. Just let me go."

"Let you go?" He looked genuinely confused by the offer. "Back to what? Poverty? Danger? Being used by groups of people who don't even remember your name?"

He clenched his fists. "I can give you everything. Safety. Comfort. Power."

"I don't want power," you said. "I just want freedom."

"Freedom is an illusion in this world," he said disdainfully. "The strong rule. The weak must serve or die. That's the truth I've learned."

His eyes softened a little. "But you will never be weak again. Not with me."

Tears welled in your eyes because the worst part was that he was right. In this world of hunters and monsters, of daily survival and constant struggle, you had become isolated. Alone. The perfect victim.

Your voice weakly emitted a single pleasless request. "I just want to go home."

Jinwoo stated in a firm voice "You are already at your home."

You pushed against Jinwoo's chest, breaking free from his embrace. "This isn't home! This is prison!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I have bestowed upon you comforts which surpass everything you have experienced before. Safety. Protection. What more could you want?"

"Choice!" you shouted, anger finally overcoming fear. "My own life! Not to be a pet or a possession!"

Something snapped in Jinwoo's expression, the careful control giving way to something darker, more primal. Shadows exploded from his body, filling the room like smoke, eyes flashing from every corner. A sudden temperature drop resulted in condensed breath vapor forming in the air.

Despite the surrounding shadowy scenes he spoke with a composed voice to ask "Do you know what I am?"

Shadows writhed around him like an aura of living darkness. "I command an army of the dead. I can flatten cities. Destroy countries. I am becoming something beyond human."

He moved toward you, each step leaving frost on the expensive hardwood floor.

He whispered as he continued "But you are the one thing I want most even though I cannot acquire you with ease. Your willing acceptance. Your..." he hesitated, searching for the word "your heart."

The darkness retreated a little, shrinking into his body as he regained control. He reached out, his fingers hovering just above your cheek, not touching.

"I could force you," he said softly. "I could use my darkness to bend your will. Make you think you loved me. Make you forget everything else." He let go. "But that would be a lie. And I've waited too long for lies."

You looked at him, trembling. "Then let me go."

"No." The word was absolute, excluding any objections. "You'll stay. You'll learn. And eventually, you'll understand that this is where you belong."

He turned away, walking toward the door. "This room is yours. This entire floor, actually. You'll find clothes in the closet, food in the kitchen. Books. Entertainment. Anything you need."

Jinwoo paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder. "This world is changing faster than you know. The portal is just the beginning." His eyes met yours, burning with that strange blue light. "War is coming. A war unlike any humanity has ever seen."

He opened the door. "When it happens, you'll understand why I did this. Why I need you to be safe."

"Jinwoo," you called as he stepped through the threshold. "This isn't love. Whatever you think you feel for me - it isn't love."

He paused but didn't turn around. "What is it?"

"Obsession. Possession. Control." You swallowed. "Love doesn't imprison people."

He was silent for a long moment. Then, so quietly you almost didn't hear. "Maybe you're right. Maybe what I feel isn't human love."

Finally he turned, his eyes shining in the darkness of the door. "But I'm becoming less and less human. And whatever this feeling is, it's the only thing keeping me clinging to my humanity."

The door closed behind him, and you heard the lock click.

You found yourself locked inside your elegant prison while an unknown beast used his obsession toward you until he became a grotesque entity.

You crashed to the ground while hugging your knees against your body. Outside your window, Seoul went on as usual, unaware of your situation. Somewhere out there, you are being declared dead, another victim of the red gate incident.

No one comes to save you.

And the scariest part? A small, shameful part of you wonders if Jinwoo is right. In a world filled with monsters and gates, daily death and constant danger - is freedom really worth more than his absolute protection?

You push the thought away, disgusted with yourself.

But in the corner of the room, the shadows watch with shining eyes, patient as the grave.

They have all the time in the world. And so do you.

Because Sung Jinwoo, the Shadow Monarch, has decided that you are his. And what Jinwoo has declared, he will keep.

Forever.

__________________________

I'm tired and exhausted af but I can't stop writing

I already know what will happen after this, no inspiration to write -> can't stop writing -> no inspiration

Anyway, hope you like this 💗

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung #yandere jinwoo

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willowsnook · 1 day ago

Text

Papaya Was Never the Problem

request: Y/N spends months crushing on Lando, only to be heartbroken when he moves on with someone else. Ready for something real, she realizes she had her eyes on the wrong McLaren driver all along—maybe it was Pato she should’ve seen from the start.

pato o’ward x reader

—----------------------------------

Your 16-year-old self would be disgusted at you if she knew that you’d be 23 and simping over a man who did not feel the same about you. But you couldn’t help it, everytime you thought it was over, Lando would pull your right back in.

It wasn’t really even his fault, you had both agreed to keep things casual, that you weren’t looking for anything more. But somewhere along the line, it became a little blurred. You tried to take a step back, but everytime you did he pulled you right back closer. Whether it was random flowers he sent to your door, making sure that everyone knew he took your opinion the most serious out of all the McLaren strategists, or coming over to watch a movie and not hooking up.

You felt crazy. You knew logically that you needed to cut it off but damn you just loved his attention. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

But you knew that wasn’t the case. If you weren’t there on his arm, someone else was. It was never anything serious – until it was.

It was a race day just like any other and you were buried in data, trying to figure out what you could do between now and qualifying to ensure Lando started P1 on Sunday. You had been at it for a while now, interrupted only by the clearing of a throat. Max Fewtrell stood next to your desk, and the look on his face had you instantly stopping. He looked…guilty?

“What’s up?” You asked, and he hesitated.

“I need to tell you something that is going to hurt you,” he started. “But you’ve become one of my closest friends so I can’t let this go on any longer.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, heartbeat raising.

“Lando is bringing his girlfriend ot the race tomorrow,” Max said and it felt like you had been doused with a cold bucket of water.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, the word foreign on your tongue.

"Yeah," Max winced. "I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. It's serious apparently. They've been together for a few months."

A few months. The words echoed in your mind as you tried to process what Max was telling you. All those nights, all those moments that felt like something more—they had meant nothing.

"Who is she?" The question left your lips before you could stop it.

"Some model he met at a party in Monaco." Max's hand came to rest on your shoulder. "You deserve better, Y/N. You always have."

You nodded numbly, tears threatening to spill. "Thanks for telling me."

After Max left, you sat motionless at your desk, staring at the data that suddenly seemed so meaningless. Months of your life wasted on someone who had been leading you on while building a relationship with someone else.

The next day, you kept your head down, focusing entirely on work. When you spotted Lando in the garage, you ducked out of the way, avoiding him for as long as you could. You were forced to finally see him during the pre-race briefing and you doing everything in your power to not look at him did not go unnoticed.

“Y/n,” Lando called as everyone walked out. “Can we talk?”

You nodded, gaining the courage to look him on the eye. You knew he knew what was happening the second his eyes met yours.

“I-I I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I should have told you, but we always said it was casual between us right?”

“Why didn’t you just say something?” You asked, your sadness melting into anger. “Like what’s fucking wrong with you Lando?”

He flinched at your tone, the guilt written all over his face. “I know. I just wanted both of you as long as I could have it.”

“And then you decided that you wanted her more,” you said for him, your heart ripping in half. “Quite frankly I never want to see you again.”

Hurt flashed across his face but you didn’t give him a chance to respond, moving past him and out the door.

The race went horribly. Lando dropped from P2 to P10 and it was just a disaster all around. You knew it was your last race, you’d made the decision last night, before even talking to Lando. There were plenty of things you could do with an engineering degree so you weren’t worried. You could go anywhere you wanted. Away from all of this.

Zak was in a conference room when you found him and you shut the door behind you as you walked in. He looked up at you in surprise, the doom and gloom from the race on his face.

“Hey y/n, tough day today,” he said and you nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m going to be leaving McLaren,” you told him, trying to not let your voice waver. This was your first job and you loved the people here. Loved the work, the environment, everything. But you couldn’t stay.

“What?” Zak veered back, shocked. “After one bad race?”

“It’s more than one bad race,” you said quietly and in that moment he knew. He’d seen the two of you together, and wasn’t the only McLaren employee that was confused by another girl’s presence today.

“What are you going to do?” He asked and you shrugged.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted and he shook his head.

“Y/n, you are one of the most talented young strategists we’ve come across,” he told you. “I can’t let you leave.”

“I can’t stay Zak,” you said, exasperated. He thought for a moment before lighting up.

“IndyCar,” he said and your eyebrows furrowed. “If you’re okay to move, let me put you on one of our IndyCar teams, probably Patos.”

You hesitated. You were open to moving somewhere new and across an ocean was pretty far away from Lando. Plus you’d get to stay in racing, which was definitely ideal.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you said and Zak grinned.

“It’s settled then.”

—-----------------------------------------

“Welcome to Indianapolis!” Your new coworker, Hannah beamed at you from outside of the Arrow-McLaren office in downtown Indy.

“Thank you,” you said politely.

“I know we don’t go to as many glamorous places as you’re used to but Indy is pretty historic for racing,” she said.

“Yeah, I actually grew up in Kansas City,” you told her and her eyes widened it surprise. “So I’m familiar with all of this, even if it’s been a while. “

“Sorry! They never tell me anything,” she grumbled.

“No worries,” you told her sweetly. She led you through the lobby and to the upstairs floor, where different mechanics were working. She was around your age so you felt comfortable chatting with her, happy to have someone to be friends with in a new place.

“Okay Tony is waiting for you in his office up there,” she told you and you thanked her before stepping into the room.

“Ahh, y/n, pleasure to meet you,” Tony said, standing up to shake your hand. “Zak sings your praises all the time so I’m happy we got to steal you away.”

“I’m happy to be here,” you said, sitting down across from him.

“I’m going to put you on Pato’s team - he’s our best driver here and I think you guys will get along,” he said and you nodded. “Ah here he is, Pato! Come in here for a sec.”

You turned as the door opened, and in walked a man you'd seen on TV but never in person. Pato O'Ward had a vibrant energy to him, his smile genuine as he entered the room. His eyes landed on you, and for a moment, you felt a flutter of something you couldn't quite place.

"Welcome to the team," he said, extending his hand. His accent was thick but endearing. "Tony has been talking about you all week."

"Has he?" You shook his hand, noticing the calluses that came from gripping a steering wheel for hours on end.

"All good things," Tony assured you. "Pato, Y/N is coming to us from the F1 team. She's one of their top strategists."

"Was," you corrected with a small smile. "I'm all IndyCar now."

"Well, their loss is our gain," Pato said, his gaze not leaving yours. You smiled shyly before turning back to Tom.

“Well, let’s get started.”

—------------------------------------

IndyCar was a whole new puzzle to crack, but you were loving the challenge. The other strategists had welcomed you with open arms, eager to hear your ideas for the car as you headed into a race weekend.

Pato was fast, but Alex Palou was faster and it was a problem you were drowning trying to figure it out. It was late, the warm air of Riverside blowing gently through your hair as you stepped outside, eager to take a break. No one else was at the track, just you and a bunch of numbers, just like you preferred it.

Switching to IndyCar had been a good move. Max had called you a couple of times to check in and you were honest when you told him: you were happy here. Much happier than you were back there. You’d become fast friends with Hannah, and she’d introduced you to her friends, quickly accepting you into the group.

Working with Pato was a breeze. He was focused and driven but also fun and lighthearted. You ignored the way you caught him looking at you every once in a while. You’d seen that look before, just on a different man in a papaya suit.

“What are you still doing here?”

Speak of the devil, you see Pato coming up to you, a boyish smile on his face. You smile back, appreciating the way the track lights hit his face.

“Trying to get you a win,” you said and he laughed.

“I thought I was supposed to be doing that,” he replied and you shook your head amused, turning back to stare out at the track.

"No, I think it's a team effort," you replied, leaning against the railing. "I'm just used to working late. It's a hard habit to break."

"You don't have to do that here," Pato said, moving to stand beside you. His shoulder brushed against yours, and you tried to ignore the warmth that spread through you at the contact.

"I want to," you admitted. "I want to prove that I belong here."

"You already have," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Everyone can see how talented you are."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. There was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," you said softly. "That means a lot."

A comfortable silence fell between you as you both gazed out at the empty track. The distant sound of cicadas filled the air and you were too lost in your own thoughts to see the way Pato was looking at you.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was supposed to meet you last year in Brazil but I was told to stay away.”

“By who?” You asked, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you turned to look at him. You sighed as you saw his face, already knowing the answer. “Lando.”

“Mhm,” Pato answered. “Is that why you came here?”

“Yes,” you said honestly. “I needed a fresh start.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said and you looked at him once again, his eyes on yours. “He didn’t deserve you.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to him. "You don't even know me," you said softly, but there was no bite to your words.

"I know enough," Pato replied, his voice gentle. "I know you work harder than anyone else on the team. I know you care about the success of everyone around you, not just yourself. And I know that anyone who couldn't see what they had with you is an idiot."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You're just saying that because I'm trying to get you a win."

"No," he said, turning to face you fully now. "I'm saying it because it's true."

The intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. For months, you'd been so focused on getting over Lando, on proving yourself in this new environment, that you hadn't allowed yourself any opportunity to open your heart.

“I can’t start something with you Pato,” you said sadly. “No matter how much I want to. I can’t go through it again.”

“I don’t think you understand that it would be completely different,” he said but you didn’t say anything, just looked down at your hands. “Okay, if I have to spend the rest of the season proving that to you then I will.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like you were back in F1, watching Max lurking like a shark in the background, quickly gaining on whoever was in front of him like a shark who had seen it’s prey. Except this time the shark was Alex Palou and Pato was unfortunately the prey. Pato had led almost the whole race but Alex did what he did best: win.

The garage was dejected, despite taking second and third and you fully expected the silent treatment from the drivers. Lando always shut down after races, always so in his head that there was no point in talking to him. Pato was quiet during the debrief but you were used to it so it didn’t bother you.

Picking up your stuff, you headed out the door. Pato was waiting for you outside and you looked at him in surprise. You would have expected him to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

“Do you have plans?” He asked and you shook your head. He was still in his fireproofs, sweat and champagne stained on his face. “Get something to eat with me and talk about the race?”

“We just had a chance to talk about it, but you didn’t say much,” you countered and he rolled his eyes.

“I just want to talk to you right now, okay? I’ll talk to the rest of the team when we’re back in Indy,” he said.

You hesitated, caught off guard by his directness. This wasn't what you expected after a race that didn't go his way. But there was something in his eyes—an earnestness that made it impossible to say no.

"Okay," you agreed. "But you should probably change first."

He grinned, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Give me ten minutes."

True to his word, Pato emerged from the motorhome shortly after, dressed in jeans and a simple black t-shirt that hugged his frame. You tried not to stare.

"There's a little place around the corner that's pretty good," he said, leading you away from the track. "I found it last year."

The restaurant was small and unassuming, tucked away from the main streets where most of the racing crowd would go. The hostess greeted Pato by name, clearly recognizing the driver and led you to a table in the back.

"So," you said, taking a sip of your wine. "Second place isn't bad."

"It's not first," he replied, but there wasn't any bitterness in his tone. "Palou is just... consistently good. But we're getting closer."

“We have the advantage on some of the upcoming tracks though – you’ve performed better than he has in the past.”

Pato’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a smirk growing on his face. “Watching my old races huh?”

You rolled your eyes but a smile was evident on your face. “Doing my job.”

The rest of dinner was spent going through the race almost lap by lap until you really just had nothing left to say. Pato paid the tab and held out his hand to you almost challenging as he got up. You rolled your eyes but took it, letting him lead you out of the restaurant.

“Tired?” He asked, once you were outside and you nodded. “Okay let’s get you home cariño.”

You blushed at the term of endearment and he grinned widely before tugging you along to the car. The ride back to the hotel was short and he walked you back up to your room, gently pressing his lips against your cheek before saying goodbye.

Remember what happened with Lando

You chanted this to yourself as you got into your room but it was becoming hard. Pato seemed to be everything Lando was not but you had built up a lot of walls around your heart. You still didn’t know what you wanted, not sure if you could handle another situationship during a season just hoping that it could be something more in the offseason.

—---------------------------------------------------------

There was a few weeks in between races so you packed your bags to head off to a nice vacation during your free time. Hannah had begged you to join her and her friends so you found yourself on the sunny beaches of Punta Mita, baking in the Mexican sun. By day three of the vacation your skin had a nice glow to it and you decided you never wanted to go home.

You were sitting on loungers outside with your friends watching the sunset, a margarita in your hands when you saw a familiar face sitting at another lounge area, his eyes trained on you. Your head snapped towards Hannah who looked over your shoulder then smirked.

“Did you know he was going to be here?” You asked.

“I swear I didn’t, but I’m definitely not complaining,” she said with a smirk and you groaned. Soon enough, Pato was walking over with his friends, asking if they could join you all. The seat you were sitting on was definitely big enough for two so you begrudgingly scooted over as Pato plopped down next to you. His arm rested behind you on the back of the lounger and he gave you a small smile.

“Hola hermosa,” he said cheekily and you couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

“Are you stalking me Pato O’Ward?” You said and he let his head dip backwards, laughing.

“Oof, using my full name, does that mean I’m in trouble?” He asked.

“Maybe,” you teased.

“I’d love to see what the punishment is,” he murmured, eyes flickering down to your chest. Your face flamed which only made his smirk deepen. He pulled you in closer to his side and you panicked, feeling yours and his friend’s knowing eyes.

“Pato, everyone can see us,” you whispered.

“Kind of the point cariño,” he replied, letting his hand fall to rest on your upper arm, tracing the skin with his finger. You started to say something else but he jumped into a conversation with his friend next to him.

You couldn't help but feel conflicted as you sat nestled against Pato's side, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. The sun was setting over the ocean, painting the sky in vibrant oranges and pinks, and despite your internal protests, this felt... right.

After a couple more rounds of drinks, the group decided to head to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Pato's hand found the small of your back as you walked, guiding you through the crowded beachfront. The gesture was small, but intentional. Public. A statement.

"You're not being very subtle," you murmured as you reached the restaurant.

"I'm not trying to be," he replied, his eyes meeting yours. "I told you I would prove that I'm different."

At dinner, Pato insisted on sitting next to you, his leg occasionally brushing against yours under the table. The conversation flowed easily, most of his friends having been around a lot of his racing so they could keep up with you and Hannah. When it died down, most of the group decided to turn in for the night but you weren’t ready to retire just yet.

“Walk with me?” You asked Pato and he nodded, slipping his hand into yours as you headed down the shoreline. Being with Pato was easy. You were never stressed, never waiting for the second ball to drop.

He walked you back to the resort, stopping before the staircase that led up to your floor. You turend to him in confusion but were cut off by his lips against yours. They moved slowly and you found yourself moving against him, bringing your hand up to cup his face. His rested on your waist, holding you close to him.

You pulled away after a bit, biting your lip as you stared at him.

“What are you thinking cariño?” He asked.

You hesitated, heart hammering in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips, or the way his voice sounded like honey under the moonlight, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I like you,” you admitted, eyes dropping to the sand. “But I’m not sure I want to do this again, just be someone there for your convenience not able to commit during the season. I’ve already done that before.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, one you almost regretted the second you said it. But Pato didn't say anything right away. His expression shifted, the playfulness draining from his face, replaced by something sharper—something that almost looked like hurt.

“Wow,” he finally said, his voice low. “You really think that little of me?”

Your eyes widened, head snapping up. “Pato, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You meant it. And maybe that’s on me—maybe I was too forward, maybe I made this all feel too easy. But I’m not him, Y/N.”

He took a step back, still looking at you like you’d just slapped him.

“I’ve never once treated you like an option. I never played games. I’ve shown up, I’ve been honest, and I’ve waited—for you to see me, to trust me. And I would’ve kept waiting if you needed more time.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and it cut you to your core.

“I’m not asking you to be mine right now,” he added. “I’m not asking you to give me anything you’re not ready for. But I am asking you to stop treating me like a placeholder for your past.”

Your throat tightened, your own eyes stinging with tears you didn’t expect.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Pato nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll wait for you as long as you need, Y/N. But only if you’re willing to believe I’m worth waiting for too.”

And then he turned, starting to walk back toward the resort, leaving you with your bare feet in the sand and your heart unraveling in your hands.

—----------------------------------

You didn’t hear from Pato for the rest of the break and you tried to not think about the silence. It was hard to not compare him to Lando but it felt like you were right back in it. Big fight, usually a misunderstanding, and then he wouldn’t look at you and you’d pretend it didn’t hurt.

That’s why you were dreading the return to the office, you knew he was going to be there today and you weren’t ready for the silent treatment in person. Hannah gave you a sympathetic look when she saw you, having heard everything that happened when you both travelled home. You spent the first half of the day at your computer, analyzing some data before deciding to get up to grab some coffee.

Rounding the corner you ran straight into someone, your sorrys were cut off by two arms wrapping around you, pulling you into their chest.

“Hola hermosa,” Pato whispered into your ear and you relaxed into him, letting your guard down. You couldn’t help the tears starting to gather in your eyes as he pulled away. “Oh cariño, what’s wrong?”

You tried blinking away the tears, but one fell and was quickly swiped away by his fingers.

"I thought you were going to be mad at me," you admitted, voice shaky. "I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me anymore."

Pato's face softened, understanding replacing his initial concern. "Is that what he would have done? Gone silent on you?"

You nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," Pato said gently, tilting your chin up. "I meant what I said on the beach. I'm not him. I was hurt, yes. I needed space to think, but I wasn't going to throw away what we have because of one fight."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "For comparing you to him. For not trusting that you're different."

"I know," he replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "And I'm sorry I walked away. I should have stayed, talked it through."

The admittance that he could have done something differently didn’t go unnoticed by you and you started to say something else when someone called out your name.

“Y/n!”

You turned around to see Zak Brown coming down the hallway and your face broke out into a massive smile.

“Zak,” you greeted and he pulled you into a bear hug, lifting you off your feet.

“Oh how I’ve missed you,” your old boss said. “I hope you’ve been keeping up with the F1 races, I need your advice.”

“Of course you do,” you teased. Zak reached out to shake Pato’s hand before Pato excused himself to head to lunch.

You walked with Zak to the conference room, chatting about the previous F1 races and what he was thinking.

“I saw you and Pato,” he said as you reached the doors and you froze before deflating.

“Just hopping from one driver to the next aren’t I?” You asked quietly. “I know what you’re going to say.”

Zak looked at you carefully, “Lando didn’t deserve you, everyone knew that. But Pato’s different. He looks at you like you’re his whole world so what I was going to say is that I’m happy for you.”

You looked up at him in shock. "You think so?" you asked, a note of vulnerability in your voice that you rarely let anyone hear.

"Y/N, I've known Pato for years now," Zak said, leaning against the doorframe. "That man has always been passionate about racing, about winning. But I've never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you."

You felt warmth spread through your chest at his words.

"Besides," Zak continued with a knowing smile, "I didn't transfer you here just because you needed to get away from Lando. I sent you here because I thought you'd be brilliant with this team. And maybe, just maybe, I thought you and Pato might hit it off."

"You were playing matchmaker?" You laughed incredulously.

"Call it an executive decision," he winked. "Now, about these race strategies..."

The meeting with Zak flew by, and by the time you emerged from the conference room, it was late afternoon. You checked your phone to find a text from Pato.

Dinner tonight? My place. I'll cook.

After stopping by your own place to change into something comfier, you headed to Pato’s. He smiled as he opened the door when you knocked, stepping aside to let you in.

“It smells amazing,” you commented. You knew you were no longer going to enjoy your family’s white people taco nights after just one glance at what was cooking in the kitchen.

Pato grinned, stepping back over to the stove to stir something in a pan. “It’s my mom’s recipe,” he said. “I figured if I was going to earn your forgiveness, I should start with food.”

You laughed softly, walking toward the kitchen island. “You already have my forgiveness,” you said, watching the way he moved so confidently around the kitchen, barefoot and in a soft black t-shirt. “But if you want to impress me, this is definitely the right way to do it.”

“Good to know,” he said with a wink. “Because I plan to keep trying.”

Dinner was relaxed, the two of you sitting across from each other at his kitchen table, a bottle of wine between you. He kept your cheeks warm with compliments and your stomach sore from laughing. It was comfortable—easy in a way that didn’t scare you anymore.

After the dishes were done (you washed, he dried), Pato grabbed a blanket and led you out to the small balcony that overlooked downtown Indy. The sun had long set, but the glow of the city lights made everything feel soft and quiet.

You curled your legs beneath you as you settled onto the outdoor couch, Pato sitting next to you and draping the blanket over both your laps.

“It’s kind of wild,” you said after a few minutes, your voice low. “That I ended up here. That it took me going through all of that mess just to realize the right person was someone I hadn’t even met yet.”

Pato turned to look at you, his profile lit up by the warm patio light. “I hate that he made you feel like you were hard to love,” he said quietly. “Because being with you? It feels like the easiest thing in the world.”

You swallowed, heart thudding in your chest as you met his gaze. “I was so scared of getting it wrong again.”

“You didn’t,” he said, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just hadn’t found the right person to get it right with.”

A beat passed between you before you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “Are we really doing this?” you whispered.

Pato smiled, the kind that reached his eyes. “We’ve been doing this for a while now, haven’t we?”

You kissed him again, slower this time—deeper. It didn’t feel like a maybe or a placeholder or a temporary distraction. It felt like a beginning. When you finally pulled away, Pato rested his hand against your cheek.

“So,” he said, eyes dancing, “do I get to call you mine now?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across your face. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours again. “Because I’ve been yours since the day you walked into that office.”

And under the stars, wrapped in his arms, you finally believed it.

#indycar x reader #indycar imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #pato o'ward imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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ponderingmoonlight · 12 hours ago

Text

Oh, to be trapped with Dante

Pairing: Dante x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,3k

Synopsis: What's worse than getting trapped with Dante? Getting trapped with a stripping Dante.

Warnings: this is hilarious and fluffy at the same time, I'm still begging for Dante requests so get in my inbox if you have one, hope you like it @veijdana

You’re not sure what sets it off.

Maybe it’s the faulty lock. Maybe the door was always a little off its axes. Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour when it comes to you and that guy.

What you do know for sure is this: the door slams shut, there’s a sharp click, and no amount of jiggling the handle is getting you out of this storage room-slash-death trap. No windows, no signal, and the only light is from a flickering overhead bulb that looks like it could give up at any moment.

Perfect.

So much to being the greatest demon hunters of them all.

You turn slowly to Dante, who’s lounging against a metal shelf stacked with boxes labeled “Supplies” like this is nothing. Like he didn’t just help trap you both in a glorified closet with a single bottle of water and a half-eaten protein bar. Like he did something except for watching you struggle with that heavy ass door.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Problem?”

“The door’s locked.”

“I noticed,” he replies, utterly unbothered.

“Dante.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, barely able to hold it together any longer.

“Please don’t call me that right now.”

“Noted,” he declares, in a tone that means absolutely not noted.

He strolls over, casually tests the door for himself, then shrugs.

“Yeah. We’re stuck.”

“No kidding.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until someone finds us.”

“Which could be hours. Or days.”

He grins, shameless.

“Even better.”

You sit down hard the cold ground. It creaks threateningly, but you’re too irritated to care. He paces once, twice, then flops down across from you like this is a vacation, arms behind his head, one leg draped over the other ready to sunbathe.

Except this isn’t Miami beach but a mouse trap.

“Are you always this calm when you’re locked in small spaces with people you annoy for fun?” you question innocently.

“Only when it’s you.”

You narrow your eyes, gaze spitting thick venom at him.

“Do you actually enjoy pushing my buttons this much, or is it just some kind of defense mechanism?”

“Little column A, little column B,” he thinks out loud, flashing you a lazy smile.

“But if we’re being honest… you're kind of cute when you’re mad.”

You throw a balled-up wrapper at him. He ducks it easily, still smirking.

The minutes stretch. Then an hour. The silence tries to creep in, but Dante won’t let it. He talks. About nonsense. Old missions, weird dreams, things he overheard once that he probably wasn’t supposed to. You try not to laugh. You really try.

Eventually, you’re sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, legs stretched out, head tilted toward him without meaning to. He’s closer now, somehow. At some point. The distance between you shrunk while you weren’t paying attention.

“I think you like being trapped with me,” he mutters, voice quieter now.

Less teasing, if that’s somehow possible.

“You haven’t told me to shut up in, like, ten whole minutes.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“That’s because I’ve accepted my fate. Resistance is clearly useless. And somehow I get the feeling it turns you on even more.”

“Exactly. Might as well enjoy yourself.”

He bumps your knee with his. You don’t move away. No, somehow, this faint touch has a comfort to it, a warmth you haven’t felt for quite some time by now.

The silence now is different. Thicker. Weighted. Like you’re both suddenly aware of how still everything is. How alone. It’s just you and him. You and the walking sex symbol itself Dante.

Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to.

“This is the part where you make some dumb joke about body heat, isn’t it?”

He chuckles, low.

“Tempting. But no. Not yet.”

You glance at him.

“Yet?”

He shrugs.

“I’m giving you a few more hours before I wear down your defenses. I’m not a complete monster.”

You shake your head, lips twitching despite yourself.

Another stretch of silence. Then:

“You ever think about it?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, caught off guard by that strange and unexpected question.

“About what?”

“Us. Like - if this whole ridiculous situation wasn’t so ridiculous. If it was… different.”

Your stomach does something complicated. You turn your head to look at him, your palms starting to get sweaty. Why do you always feel like this when he’s around?

He’s watching you, eyes dark and serious for once. No smirk. No teasing.

“Yeah. Sometimes,” you admit quietly.

A beat.

“I like the idea,” he confesses.

You nod.

“Me too.”

He shifts closer, shoulder brushing yours now, solid and warm and real. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Still not sharing my blanket, though.”

You snort.

“I’m not cold.”

“Yet.”

You laugh. And this time, you let your head rest against his shoulder. Just a little.

Just enough.

Bonus:

You're curled on one side of the room, using your jacket as a pillow. Dante's a few feet away, stretched out like he owns the floor, arms folded behind his head. The silence has gone companionable, easy. You almost forget where you are.

Until he moves.

You hear the rustle of fabric first. Then the unmistakable sound of a zipper.

You lift your head, every single alarm going off inside your head. No, he isn’t about to strip…Is he?

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to sleep,” he remarks like it’s obvious.

Which it isn’t.

At all.

Because his shirt is coming off, and now he’s unbuttoning his pants in the dim light of the room, clearly visible to your accustomed to dark gaze.

“Dante-”

“What?” he interrupts, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“I always sleep naked.”

You sit up straighter, just the thought of seeing him naked, let alone shirtless...

“You are not - you can’t just strip.”

He shrugs, already stepping out of his jeans like this is just another Tuesday with a pizza waiting on his desk for him.

“It helps with thermoregulation. Look it up.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, turning away.

“You’re the worst.”

“You say that, but you’re not telling me to stop.”

You don’t. You don’t want to. Which is the worst part.

He stretches out again, now under the thin blanket you both agreed to not share (but he’s already claimed half of), bare chest barely hidden in the dark, a picture of shameless comfort.

You try not to look. You try.

He catches you anyway.

“See something you like?”

“See something I want to throw a box at.”

He laughs - low, satisfied, like he just won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

“Relax. It’s not like I’m gonna pounce on you.”

“You better not.”

“Unless you ask nicely.”

You grab your jacket and hurl it at his face. He catches it one-handed, grinning like he’s thriving on your outrage.

“Goodnight, Dante.”

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

You lie back, trying to will your pulse to settle. But you can still hear him breathing across the room, steady and slow, and you swear you feel the heat from him bleeding across the short distance between you.

The night settles heavy. And you're very aware you’re trapped with a half-naked Dante, no door, no escape, and a dangerous lack of personal space.

Sleep is going to be impossible.

And you think he knows it.

“I still feel you staring-“

“Shut the hell up, Dante.”

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bitxhy-bookworm · 2 days ago

Text

Sevika x Sensitive!Reader

Cw: slight anxiety attack, crying, hurt/comfort, swearing , established relationship

(also i didn’t proofread this- sorry)

It started out as one joke. Lighthearted and teasing, you even let out a geniune laugh. However one joke became two, until your whole friendgroup seems to be adding in their own version of the joke. Suddenly it didn’t feel like a tease, it felt like an attack. An attack on you, on the self esteem you work so hard to build. Next thing you know you’re not sitting at the last drop giggling with your friends, now you’re a kid again and everyone’s laughing at you for some joke you’ll never be apart of. You know this is crazy, it’s not half as big of a deal as you’re making it in your head but the sinking pit in your stomach and the pain in your throat make it feel like your fighting a war. And you are losing…terribly. Despite the feeling of all your insecurities attacking you at once, you keep an amused look on your face the whole night. It’s not everyone else’s fault you can’t handle a little joke, why ruin the mood cause you’re a crybaby?

You walk into you and Sevika’s shared apartment later that night, exhausted and ready to collapse. You kick your shoes off and allow your mind to relax or try to relax. Instead the only thing on repeat is that joke, was it a joke? Do they actually feel that way and tried to hide it with humour? You’ve never been great with expressions and social cues, maybe they all secretly hate you and this is their way of showing it? You feel hot tears begin to fall down your face and your chest starts to feel a little too tight. You hardly notice the sound of footsteps as you press your back against the door, trying to find anything to support you as your legs start to shake.

“Baby?…” a voice calls out, Sevika, her voice tired and groggy. God you probably woke her up with all this crying. “Oh love, what’s going on?” The sound of concern is evident in her voice, when you finally open your eyes to look at her all you can feel is guilt. She looks like she’s just woken up and here you are sobbing on the floor…the thought makes you cry harder. Why can’t you just pull it together already? You feel her arms wrap around you as she hushes you soothingly, “It’s alright, beautiful. I’m here, you’re safe.” She repeats this phrase along with a few more loving affirmations as she feels your body begin to relax and your breathes return to normal. She pulls away after a few more moments, giving you some space to collect your thoughts. You look at Sevika, then down at the floor slightly embarassed.

This isn’t the first time she’s seen you like this, living together has it’s ups and downs and you’ve both seen your fair share of breakdowns. Despite this, you can’t help but feel like you were doing too much. “Sorry about all that, I dont…i dont know where that came from..” You say, hoping that you can just brush past it fat chance.

Sevika looks completely unconvinced, “Sweetheart, that didn’t come out of nowhere.” She leaves no room for arguement, there is no malice or anger but no humour either. She says your name softly, gazing at you with a pleading look in her eyes. “Hun..you’ve been doing so much better lately, especially with talking these things out. We don’t need to talk about it right now but dont shut me out..please” goddamn it, that face, her voice..you never stood a chance. “Ok…but can I change first? I need to get out of these clothes” You say, breaking eye contact before her eyes make you do anything else.

You crawl into bed with sevika a few moments later, now in much more comfortable clothes. Sevika places her book down and turns her attention to you, at first you say nothing opting to curl into her arms instead. She smiles at how adorable you look, much more relaxed and those pesky tears tracks gone. You tell her everything, the joke and how it felt. The insecurity that followed and how it became too much too quickly. Her heart breaks when you look at her and ask if she feels the same way, “I won’t be mad if you do, i just..I feel stupid I guess. Like there’s this big joke everyone but me is in on…” you trail off as you feel her grip tighten, as if she could lose you to your own thoughts. “Baby look at me,” you do.

“None of that is true, not even close and none of your friends feel that way. I know you don’t want to kill the mood but you have to say something when you feel like this, I know they wouldn’t want you feeling this way either.” Her tone is firm but gentle, you know she’s right.

“I know, it’s just scary..I don’t want to make everyone stop having fun to cater to my fragile ass ego-“ “you are not fragile, not even close. But you are human, and humans feel and you feel especially deep. That’s nothing to be ashamed or embarassed of.” She takes her hand and places it on your chest “I love your heart, you’re so passionate and empathetic, so what if you cry a little harder or get worked up a little easier? That doesn’t make you fragile, it makes you extraordinary.” You feel tears well up in your eyes and you bury your face in the crook of her neck, “god Sev, quit sweet talking me or I’m gonna start crying again.” You say, giggling as she hugs you tightly one more time.

“Cry all you need baby, I’ve got you”

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika arcane #sensitive #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff #i was feeling a little sad so i wrote it out! hope you like it :)#Spotify

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forever-rogue · 1 day ago

Note

I don't know if this is a silly idea so if it is I apologize!

But could you write something where Tommy and the reader were seeing each other in Austin but with all the commotion they didn't have time to look for each other when they were fleeing so they both moved on thinking the other one was killed, but the reader suddenly ends up in Jackson and they get to reunite

AN | Ahh, this has been in my drafts for so long! Reminder that I am also a Tommy Miller enthusiast. I love this concept and I hope you do too 🥰

Pairing | Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How much longer is it until we’re there?” you were whining, and you knew it. But quite honestly, you didn’t care. You were cold, tired, and hungry, and your feet were killing you. Ellie looked at you and snickered softly; she was young and spritely, everything seemed easy for her.

“Not much longer if you’d stop your whining,” Joel turned back to you as you gave him an indignant little huff. You knew he was teasing; the two of you butted heads a lot but there was nothing but affection behind it all, “think you can manage?”

“I guess,” you waved him off and fell into step with Ellie, “you know, this place better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promised and you wanted to believe him. You hoped he was right…things had been hard the last few months and honestly, you really just wanted a nice long break, “trust me.”

“The last time I trusted you, Joel, I ended up on this crazy journey with you and the kid,” you snorted in amusement as the two of them stared at you in surprise, “and - and - I wouldn’t change it for the world. So calm down and stop glaring daggers at me.”

“You know-” but Joel was quickly cut off by the sound of hooves, shouts, and barks. This definitely wasn’t good.

You exchanged a look with Joel and the two of you surrounded Ellie to make sure she was as hidden as possible. It really was no use because the three of you were as exposed as could be.

Fuck.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So…many things didn’t turn out as badly as they could have. In fact, it seemed like it really just turned into…the best possible situation.

You’d not only found your way to Jackson, which already just from the outside was a lot to take in, but Joel had managed to find his brother. It was a shock on both ends but, you realized, life had been a lot like that lately.

For the first time in a long time, you even allowed yourself to believe that things might actually work out. Hope. It was an odd thing really.

But it was Joel’s shout that started you out of your little daydream fantasy. You almost slipped off the horse at the sudden shift of him yelling, "Tommy!"

You exchanged a look with Ellie before turning to look in the direction that Joel was currently running to. He'd almost jumped off his horse and was taking off in the direction of another dark haired man. How very curious.

The party came to a stop and the two of you got off your own horses before hesitantly walking over. It appeared that the two brothers had really missed each other.

Joel let go of the younger man and turned to the two of you with a beaming smile, "this is my younger brother, Tommy."

You turned to the raven-haired man, ready to introduce yourself to him when everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Time stood still as you realized that you too knew Tommy - at least once upon a lifetime ago you had.

He must have realized at the same time as you had because all he could do was silently look at you in awe. You weren't even sure how to really respond - you hadn't seen him in twenty years. Yet here he was, right as rain and the same as ever.

"Tommy?" You asked softly as he nodded, repeating your name just as quietly. Confusion marred Ellie and Joel's faces, unsure of what was going on, "oh my god."

He hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out and pulling into a hug. A sound somewhere between a sob and laugh escaped your lips as you hugged him back with just as excitement.

You had been sure you'd never see him again. You'd made peace with the fact that the love of your life was dead.

And yet…there he was. Alive and well. Your Tommy.

When you reluctantly pulled apart, he cradled your face in his hands, tenderly brushing away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It still felt so unreal, like a wild day dream.

"Does anyone want to explain what's going on here?" Ellie decided to cut through the tender moment and Joel groaned slightly. He was such a dad sometimes, despite what he insisted.

"Ellie."

"It's okay," you promised, "Tommy and I…we used to…we were dating. Back…you know."

"Before," he finished for you, catching your eye and offering a shy smile, "before everything fell apart."

"Wait…" Joel looked between the two of you, pointing at each of you in turn. He repeated your name and realization dawned on him, "its you? All this time…shit-"

"Language!"

"You've been Tommy's girl?" He was more incredulous than either of you, "how did I never…realize?"

"To be fair, I haven't been anyone's girl in a long time," you stared at your feet, trying not to focus too much on the fact that everyone was staring at you, "and I didn't put two and two together to realize you were his brother. So."

"So," Tommy echoed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Neither of you were quite sure what to say; you never thought you'd been in this position again, "why, ugh, why don't we get you guys settled in? Seems like you might be staying a while."

"Great!" Ellie was able to cut through any of the tension as she stepped between you and Tommy, grabbing hold of his arm. You breathed a small sigh of relief; things had quickly gotten to a point where you didn't know what to even think.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you but remained silent otherwise. The look was never enough to kill you; damn these Miller brothers. You huffed, "don't say a word, Joel."

He held up his hands in mock surrender as you huffed and followed after Ellie and Tommy.

Well. This day had definitely not gone according to plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that initial afternoon of introductions and reunions, you managed to avoid Tommy for a few days. It wasn't too hard in Jackson; there were way more people than you had initially imagined. It felt so strange, but wonderful, to be somewhere that felt…normal again. Between that and Tommy, it almost seemed like things really were almost like they had been all those years ago.

"Hey there," his soft voice cut through your thoughts as you turned your gaze away from the softly falling snow and onto him. You stiffened for a moment before smiling at him.

"Hey Tommy," you moved over on the bench and brushed off the powdery fluff. He beamed at the silent invitation and sat down next to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, "I was almost sure you'd been avoiding me."

"I-I wasn't…avoiding you," it was a lie and you both knew it. Tommy laughed, and you realized just how much you loved his laugh. It had always been one of your favorite things.

"You've always been a horrible liar," he gently nudged your knee with his and you couldn't help the shy smile that bubbled up, "I guess time doesn't change everything."

"I guess not," your stomach churned with a plethora of emotions. Everything all at once.

"How'd you end up with my brother?" his cheeks flushed and not just from the cold. It took a moment till you caught on and you almost laughed.

"I'm, ugh, I'm not with Joel," you promised and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "we're just friends. Trust me, I'm not - I'm definitely not - interested in him."

"Oh," you peeked over to see the smile on his face grow, "okay, that's umm, yeah. Good. And you've, ugh, never-"

"No," a shiver ran down your spine as you cut him off. Sure, Joel was handsome but you were definitely not into him, "and no thank you."

"Cool," a silence fell over the two of you, neither awkward or completely still.

"What about you and Maria?" Yeah. You were curious too.

"We…we were together for a while," he confessed and you hated how it made your stomach twist and turn. It wasn't your place to be jealous but…you were feeling particularly green, "but it didn't work out. So we're just friends."

"Well, that's good that you're still friends," and your insides were jumping around happily.

"Mhmm," he hummed in agreement before it grew quiet again. You could practically hear Ellie screaming in your ear to make a move. Lord knows that she was absolutely wanting to see the two of you get tougher again. It would be just like a movie she'd sighed dreamily.

You shifted and angled your body so you were facing him and found that he was watching you intently. You opened and closed your mouth a few times and yet somehow he knew exactly what you were thinking. Tommy leaned in and put his hand on your cheek, hesitating for just a moment to search your eyes for permission before kissing you.

And suddenly it felt like you'd never stopped kissing him. It all felt so familiar and so…right that you thought you'd never want to forget this again. Tommy Miller always kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he pulled away, and for all you knew he could have been kissing for seconds or hours or minutes, you made a small sound of disappointment.

"I know," there was nothing but affectionate teasing behind his voice, "but if I keep kissing you, I might sink and drown, and die. Give a man a second."

"Was it that bad?" Your eyes widened with worry but the man shook his head.

"The opposite," he grinned, "I just needed a moment so I don't get too crazy for you. It's always been hard."

"Oh," alright, that was a way better answer than you'd hoped for, "I've missed that too. Honestly, I've missed you. A lot…but I feel like that's really obvious to say."

"Not a day passed when I didn't think of you," he admitted shyly, "even if it was just for a moment, but you were still there in my mind. Like it was yesterday."

"Well, I'm sure the reality," you pointed at yourself, "is disappointing compared to the memory."

"That's where you're wrong," he scoffed as though you must have been blind, "you're just as beautiful now as the day I met you."

"Tommy-"

"I mean it," he put his hand on top of yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I've dreamed about this day so many times. I never thought…that I would actually get the chance to see you again."

"Me neither," you really wanted to wrap yourself up in him, "I'm just afraid you're not going to like this version of me. What if I'm not like you remember?"

"None of us are the same, sweetheart," he insisted softly, "we've all been through so much shit. But deep down we're all the people we once were."

"You think so?" You could feel the tears welling up already, "I mean, I'm just assuming you'd want to even…try again. You know what, forget I said anything - you don't want-"

"I do," he quickly cut off any of your negative thoughts, "I really do. You think I'd give up this second chance with my dream girl?"

"Dream girl?" and oh. The way you were looking at him made him want to melt, "I'm your dream girl?"

"You always have been and always will be," he grew bashful as you looked at him in awe, "and I think we were given this opportunity for a reason. And I know it's scary, but if you're in, I kind of want to try again. Us."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been thinking about it since the moment I saw you," he leaned in and you were so close you could kiss him - and you definitely intended on doing that again, "so I guess it's up to you, sweetheart."

"I'm in," you promised without hesitation, "all in."

"Me too," and then he kissed you again, softly but with so much love, "all in."

#tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller imagine #tommy miller one shot #gabriel luna #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #x reader

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kurogane2512 · 3 days ago

Text

Little fic inspired from a daily message with Aglaea. I wrote most of this during 3.0 and haven't done the quests from 3.1 and 3.2 so apologies if something is inaccurate.

18+ CONTENT

Game: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: Aglaea x g!p reader (Trailblazer)

Type: Fluff and smut (slightly long fic, the usual porn with plot)

Your days in Okhema passed in a rather leisurely manner after Phainon departed for the trial. The Chrysos Heirs had dispersed for their own affairs, carrying on their duty as they waited for their comrade's results. You explored the city for a few days but eventually lost interest as you had seen almost everything it had to offer and now spent most of your time in the bathhouse, relaxing in the soothing waters and befriending the citizens.

It was one of these days when you happened to message Lady Aglaea, asking about her welfare and if you could do some work for her. Out of all the Chrysos Heirs you met so far, you felt a strange attraction to her and wanted to know her better, even help her as much as you could knowing the burdens on her. Though, you had doubts about her opinion on you, but at least she didn't seem uninterested in interacting with you outside missions.

And it was due to an impromptu conversation where you ended up discussing about her likeness for plays, that you now found yourself at the finest theatre in Okhema to watch a play she had recommended. Not only that, you were sitting beside Lady Aglaea herself in the VIP arena. The rest of the place was packed to the brim as this was a new play that had become the talk of the town.

"I'm grateful for your company tonight, esteemed guest." Aglaea spoke in a courteous tone, "It is often difficult for me to find time to come here recently, but you eased my burdens quite a bit and allowed me this moment of respite. I hope you will enjoy this play."

You lightly blushed from her words, "It's fine, Lady Aglaea. I'm happy to help you. I'm also grateful that you agreed to come with me."

Aglaea smiled, "I was quite interested in this play since it's supposed to be different from the acclaimed classics, but wasn't able to secure time until now. It is an honor for me to be your partner for this experience."

You nodded with a smile then turned your gaze towards the stage as preparations were completed and an actor came out, starting to narrate his lines. The play was titled, 'Zagreus the Tyrant Falls in Love With Me'. You never expected the elegant and isolated Okhema to have plays of such manner. You had seen similar works in other planets you visited— mostly in the form of novels, films and games— but a theater play was new.

The play continued and a symphony of laughter and cheers often erupted in the theatre at the humorous presentation. You also laughed along a few times, finding the jokes actually well-made. It was one of these moments when you heard a light chuckle from your side and glanced to see Aglaea also laughing, albeit very restrained and refined. Her mouth was covered by her right hand every time she laughed, yet it was easy to tell she was liking the play.

For some reason, you couldn't focus on the play anymore once you laid eyes on her relaxed and vibrant expression. You had never seen her this way before. Your image of her so far was that of a strict, meticulous and disciplined leader, a demigod who had pledged herself to protect Amphoreus and was ready to use any means even if it brought harm to herself. You had no idea what she sacrificed for Amphoreus, but you knew nothing else mattered to her as long as Amphoreus was safe.

"Is the play not to your liking anymore?" her sudden question snapped you out of your trance, "Your eyes seem to be everywhere but there."

She turned to look at you now, suddenly meeting your gaze.

"A-Ah no!" you quickly looked away from her, "I'm still watching, it's very good!"

You tried to excuse yourself; after all, how could you just admit you were staring at her. Aglaea didn't probe you further and focused on the play instead, but she couldn't deny the slight curiosity rising in her. During the play, some wine and snacks were served to you both. You helped yourself to the snacks while she indulged in the wine, slowly drinking a glass as the play continued. Her composure became relaxed, her body leaning against the backrest. Yet her form looked elegant and beautiful as ever.

The play was finished after 2 hours. A round of applause resounded in the theater as the actors took the final bow followed by the crowd dispersing away. To your dismay, you barely paid any attention to the second half of the play as it dragged on for longer than your liking. Not to mention, the person beside you was making it hard to focus. You walked out together after a while then stopped a few steps away from the building.

"Thank you for the wonderful company. I quite enjoyed myself, and I hope you did too." Aglaea said with a smile.

"I did, thank you for recommending it. I hope we can watch more plays together if you don't mind. Not just plays, in fact. I'd love to accompany you to any matters I can."

She seemingly didn't expect you to say that as her eyes ever sightly widened before softening.

"I will keep it in mind, thank you for your consideration. On that note, I'd like to invite you for dinner at my place as gratitude for accompanying me today."

You became slightly flustered at her invitation, "O-Oh, please don't bother yourself with that. I wanted to come anyways and I had a good time. You must have lot of work to get back to...."

"I cleared up my schedule for the remaining day knowing our engagement. If you have no other appointments then I insist. I have been meaning to invite you over for quite some time and offer my hospitality personally. It is the least I can do for the aid you have given."

Finding no excuse to refuse her, you ended up agreeing and walked with her towards her residence. Your heart was beating faster as you walked, unsure of what really awaited you. Once you reached her residence, you were greeted by a slew of Garmentmakers bowing at the entrance. She must have conveyed your arrival to them and had them prepare a welcome. One of them came behind you and offered to take your coat which you hastily agreed to, trying to follow her etiquettes.

You were in awe as you glanced around her opulent mansion, the structure was similar to other buildings in Okhema but there were quite a few unique decorations which enhanced its appearance. As you were guided to the dining area, your eyes fell upon an open space nearby which contained a table with a fabric and some sewing materials on top, some mannequins scattered around and a few cupboards near the walls, a single window illuminating the space.

"What is that place for?" you pointed to the area, making Aglaea stop in her tracks and turn around to look at you.

"An echo of the past... the place I used to weave countless garments at before bearing my duties as a Chrysos Heir." there was a hint of hesitance in her voice, yet she answered unfazed.

"I... Could I see some of your creations?"

There was a brief silence before she replied, "You are welcome to take a look, but I must apprise you that there are currently no spare garments in my possession."

"It's okay, I'm glad to just visit your workspace." you said with a smile, a hint of excitement gleaming in your eyes.

Aglaea nodded and guided you to her tailoring room now. The room was quite spacious and felt empty due to how few things were kept around. You approached the table and looked at the fabric lying on top, assuming she was working on it currently.

"Do you.... not make any garments at all now?"

"....I do, occasionally. The fabric in front of you is my ongoing work. As you can see, I have barely been able to cut it into shape and I have been working on it for a few weeks now."

"You must be very busy with other things...."

"Indeed. Protecting Amphoreus, as well as gathering the coreflames are my utmost priorities. In my free time, I prefer relaxing in the bath."

You nodded in agreement and looked around the room more. Aglaea sensed your genuine interest in her work and decided to show you something special. She walked towards a nearby cupboard and took out a neatly draped robe.

"This is.... a cherished garment of mine. A robe for the priest of Mnestia."

She walked towards you and allowed you to look at the robe in her hand. Your eyes sparkled more as you closely looked at it, taking in its patterns and beauty.

"It's very beautiful, I can see how detailed your work must be."

It was a farily simple robe, unadorned and plain. She cherished it for the meaning it held, but seeing you appreciate it for just its appearance was surprising and she wondered if you were lying but she didn't sense any deceivement from you.

"Thank you. Hearing your words has given me some sense of motivation to continue on this fabric, perhaps I will weave it soon."

Aglaea smiled and walked away to keep the robe back in its place. You waited for her by looking around the room more when a Garmentmaker approached you with a bow and extended its hand towards you.

"Hm, what is it? Do you want me to do something?" you asked the Garmentmaker and it nodded then you kept your hand on it and were suddenly pulled forward, its other hand draping around your waist and you realized it was assuming a dance position with you.

"W-Wait, I can't dance—!"

It didn't hear any of your pleas and started twirling and swinging around with you, initiating a simple dance. Your steps fumbled and you feared falling many times yet the Garmentmaker held you in place and slowly refined your movements. You didn't know what it was trying to do but you decided to enjoy yourself and became more relaxed, your hand draping over its shoulder and pulling it closer.

"Garmentmaker, what are you doing?" Aglaea asked as she watched the scene unfold, unsure of the intentions of her own creation.

The Garmentmaker paid no heed to her and continued dancing with you. You giggled along the way as it swung you around, your steps becoming more graceful. A strange sense of familiarity and nostalgia evoked in Aglaea watching you both, she remembered the time she used to be so innocently impulsive and could indulge in carefree frivialties. Her eyes were focused on your smiling face and for a brief moment, she almost saw her past self in place.

She dismissed her thoughts soon after and walked towards you both. The Garmentmaker watched its master come closer and with a sneaky movement, spun you out of its arms to make you glide towards Aglaea. You didn't realize when your partner was changed, all you could feel was a different sensation in the arms that were wrapped around you now and the softness of the body pressing to yours. Only then did you realize you were now in Aglaea's embrace.

"L-Lady Aglaea— sorry!" you tried to regain your composure and release from her hold but she didn't seem keen on letting you go.

Instead, she pulled you even closer by the arm that was wrapped around your waist and intricately intertwined her other palm with yours.

With a smile on her face, she leaned closer to you, "Won't you dance with me now?~"

Your face flushed at the situation, the close proximity with her was overwhelming and you were not at all confident in your dancing skills. But before you could reply, Aglaea led you around the room with graceful and refined steps, even better than the Garmentmaker's. You feared stepping on her foot many times but each time she'd naturally correct you and didn't stop the symphony. You slowly became more confident and actively followed her lead, that's when she decided to switch your roles.

She swapped the placement of your arms- her arm that was around your waist now wrapped around your neck while you wrapped yours around her waist. No words were spoken as this exchange happened, your eyes conveying the feelings to each other and bodies moving automatically to assume the positions. The blush on your face remained as you danced, still feeling slightly nervous about doing this with her but tried your best to not disappoint her.

The last revelry approached and with a final twirl and spin, you pulled her to yourself then dipped her. Your interlocked palms released as you reached to grasp her thigh and pull her leg up till your waist while she wrapped both arms around your neck when you dipped her. Silence engulfed the room as you held this position, your heightened breaths being the only audible sound. You gazed into each other's eyes this way, feeling a connection with her.

Your gaze naturally moved down to her soft, rosy lips and you almost leaned in to kiss her but held back and instead stood her up. You attempted to release her thigh but she moved closer and raised it more, essentially wrapping her leg around your hip. You tightened your hold due to this, suddenly pulling her closer and feeling the way her arms also tightened. Your gaze moved to her lips once again and you were desperately holding back from letting your desires take over.

To your utmost surprise, it was Aglaea who made the move. She leaned closer and connected her lips to yours in a soft and gentle manner. The feeling was serene right when her lips touched yours, though you didn't have the mettle to kiss her back right away. The first kiss was short-lived, feeling more like a peck as she moved back rather quickly and left you feeling deprived. You gazed into her hooded eyes and couldn't hold back anymore.

She braced herself when you pulled her closer and connected your lips again. The kiss was rougher and impatient this time, your lips moving in quick and unkempt motions as you yearned to feel her more. Her hand slowly laced through your hair and grasped your strands then tilted your head to kiss deeper. Your tongues reached out at the same time, eagerly rolling together in a passionate manner, akin to a dance.

As the kiss continued, you suddenly felt her move against your body in a teasing manner. You almost let out a groan since she rubbed against your crotch, though you weren't sure if she did that intentionally or not. Your lips parted for a brief moment after a while, a small gasp leaving your mouth as you took in deep breaths. Yet the respite was short-lived as she slammed her lips on yours again and kissed passionately.

She once again rubbed her body on yours in a similar manner and you really felt she was doing it intentionally as if conveying something to you. That's when you decided to act and give her what she seemingly wanted. You swiftly picked her up and spun around to place her against the table behind you, making her body lean on the edge while your lips remained connected. She moaned softly from your sudden movement, yet made no attempt to stop or pull away.

"Mmh.... Y-Y/n....~" she breathed against your lips, her sweet voice sending shivers down your body and causing a throb in your crotch.

You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, panting heavily while gazing at her.

"I.... I don't know what to say, Lady Aglaea...."

You averted your gaze shyly. Aglaea smiled at your reaction then cupped your face and turned it towards herself.

"You need not say anything, for I know what's going on in your mind. Back at the theater, you were looking at me and thinking of me most of the time.... isn't that right?~"

You pursed your lips and nodded, "Of course, you'd know. There was no point in hiding it....."

She softly chuckled and continued stroking your cheek. You shifted your legs slightly which made your semi-erect shaft rub between her thighs, eliciting a muffled moan from her. Her sound and expressions were downright erotic even when reserved, you wanted to see and hear so much more of her. Without a second thought, you leaned forward and attached your lips to her neck and planted open-mouthed kisses over her skin.

She tilted her head back to give you better access, also showing she wasn't against you doing this. You kissed down till the exposed valley of her breasts then suddenly dropped to your knees, catching her off-guard. You felt up her silky smooth legs and raised her dress simultaneously until her clothed core was in sight, a wet patch beginning to form on her golden panties. You licked your lips at the sight, peppering kisses on her inner thighs now.

"Wait, Y/n...." she spoke breathily while looking down at you, her palm caressing your head.

You immediately stood up and gave her space, fearing you misunderstood the situation.

"S-Sorry, did you not want to? I assumed you were...."

She sensed your apologetic tone and wrapped golden threads around your body to pull you closer.

"As I mentioned, I was aware of your thoughts at the theater. In fact, I have been aware of your feelings for me since the beginning. Do you suppose I would have invited you for a simple dinner on such short notice otherwise?~"

Your eyes widened at her words, a blush forming on your face.

"Let's just say I didn't anticipate to move to this stage so quickly. I was going to genuinely show my hospitality then offer some special services~"

You looked away in embarrassment, "Sorry, I couldn't hold back just now...."

Aglaea chuckled and traced her slender finger down your body before stopping at your abdomen to palm your crotch, "I can't really blame you, can I? After all, the Garmentmaker certainly took liberties of its own."

You let out a muffled groan feeling her palm your erection, "T-That was.... you didn't tell it to do that?"

Aglaea shook her head sideways to convey her refusal then continued, "Nevertheless, I see no point in stopping now. I simply wanted us to be clear on certain things before moving on to the next step of this relationship."

You blushed more then nodded with a smile, "I appreciate that, thank you...."

You shared a gentle kiss then were down on your knees again immediately. Your hands caressed her thighs and pulled apart her dress to look at her core, more wetness formed on the golden cloth. You then grasped her panties and looked up at her for a moment, asking for permission, which she gave with a nod. A string of slick stuck to the fabric as it was pulled down, your eyes hooding at the sight of her bare cunt. You wasted no time and attached your lips to her clit, planting a supple kiss on it.

Aglaea let out a pleasant hum feeling your tongue lap up her folds, going up and down in simple strokes and caressing her clit simultaneously. You shifted closer and buried your face further into her, using your thumbs to spread her folds and finally insert your tongue inside. Her body arched with a low moan once, one hand shuffling to grip your head while the other clenched the table's edge. She gazed into empty space, instead using the threads to feel your touch.

Your nose touched her clit when you pushed deeper, prodding at her most sensitive spots with your tongue. It flicked inside to caress her walls, your lips wrapping around to suck at the same time. She gasped softly as you went deeper and scissored your tongue, her hips bucking into your mouth. Your hands grasped her hips and pulled her closer, she automatically spread her legs more and rested her right leg on your shoulder to give you more space.

Your eyes gazed up at her as you ate her out, sounds of sucking and slurping resounding in her ears. You pushed even deeper and somehow made her jolt up to sit on the edge of the table, her legs opening wide to accompany you. She moaned unexpectedly at your action, both of her legs hanging on your shoulders now as you diligently sucked on her bundle of nerves.

Aglaea subconsciously grinded her hips on your mouth, trying to feel you more and gain more friction against certain spots. Recognizing her efforts, you switched up your technique and pleasured other spots where she seemed to like it. She remained propped up by one arm while the other interlaced in your hair and pushed your head deeper, her legs locking around your neck as she approached her orgasm.

"Aaah.... Y/n.... i-it's nearing..... could you— mmh!~"

Her plea was seemingly cut off with a breathy moan as you moved faster now. You buried your tongue to the hilt, simultaneously rubbing her clit with your thumb now. She arched up from the combined stimulation, her nails lightly digging in your scalp as she gripped your strands tighter. You raised her body and plunged your tongue at a certain angle, the knot in her stomach snapping as you touched her most sensitive spot.

She came hard on your mouth, almost squirting her release as if she hadn't been pleasured in a long time. Her voice was mostly muffled as she came, merely taking in long breaths while she stabilized herself. You drank up every bit of her sweet, divine release, lapping away at her folds like a starved puppy. She released her grip in your head and gently caressed it as you licked her clean, gazing at you with a smile.

"I did not foresee you to be so skilled at this. My apologies if it was unsightly of me to—"

"Not at all, Lady Aglaea." you interjected, "You were beautiful. I.... I just hope you liked it...."

She remained silent for a while as if she was trying to read your thoughts then smiled, "It was a delightful experience, you have my gratitude."

You blushed from her compliment and shyly nodded, unsure of how to respond. She noted your flustered expression and found you adorable, feeling more joyous at agreeing to do this with you. She didn't need her eyes nor the golden threads to tell your throbbing erection strained in your pants, desperate for attention now. Without saying or doing anything, she stepped down from the table and turned around making you face her back now and bent against it.

You blushed more at the unexpected position, gazing at her exquisite body that was waiting for you to take her. Her back arched perfectly off the table, plentiful hips rubbing over your bulge and her lightly exposed shoulders as the straps of her dress had slipped down. Everything was picture perfect and you couldn't believe the sight was real. Aglaea sensed your strong gaze on her and looked over her shoulder, slowly swinging her hips on your bulge.

"Time is of the essence, dear guest. As the one responsible for your wellbeing, I don't want you to be constrained any longer~"

Your cock twitched at her words and you hastily undid your pants to pull it out. Her ears perked up at the sound of unzipping, her hands subconsciously clenching the table to prepare herself when she felt you drag up her dress to expose her folds. The sight of her dripping folds aroused you to no end and you wasted no more time to grasp your length and brush it across them. She shivered, hips bucking back to meet yours as if to beg for more.

"Mmh.... you don't need to wait.... I'm ready~"

You didn't need any more encouragement. With one swift thrust, you buried yourself deep inside her, feeling her warmth surround you. A soft whimper escaped her lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained need that was more intoxicating than Phagousa's honey.

You moved slowly at first, a deliberate, inch-by-inch penetration as you felt her tightness, the warm embrace that welcomed you. Her breath hitched, letting out a sharp gasp as you began to fill her.

"Ngh.... y-you feel so good.... aaah....~" you groaned, slowly pumping your hips.

"Mmh.... so do you.... o-oh.... t-there....~" she breathily replied, her hands clenching the edge of the table with each thrust you did.

You felt her internal muscles tighten around you, a wave of exquisite pressure that sent a shiver down your spine. You eased back slightly, then pushed deeper, searching for that pocket of intense sensation she was guiding you towards. Her body arched, a soft moan escaping her lips, higher pitched this time, laced with a vulnerability that made your chest ache even amidst the surging pleasure. You grasped her hips tighter, preparing to increase your pace.

"I'm going to move faster.... i-is that okay?"

"Y-Yes.... nnh.... don't hold back~"

Her words excited you to no end, but you had to remain in control and not lose yourself. You dragged out your cock once until only the tip remained inside, a sigh coming from her at the loss of your fullness. The loss was short-lived as you swiftly surged forward, burying yourself to the hilt, then pumping at an animalistic pace. She whimpered, her body rocking against the table from your frantic thrusts.

"Oh... oh Mnestia... yes...!~" she panted, her voice thick with pleasure.

Each thrust felt like a revelation, a deeper understanding of her body, her pleasure. You found a rhythm that seemed designed specifically for her, for the way she arched her back, the way her breath hitched and the way her hips tilted to meet you. The soft rubs of her plentiful curves against your hips were a delight. You could feel the heat radiating from her, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very bones.

You watched as her back arched further, a beautiful, strong curve that spoke of grace and power, even in this state of abandon. She was like a statue come to life, sculpted by the gods themselves, now yielding to your touch. The contrast between her usual regal composure and the raw, uninhibited pleasure she was experiencing was breathtaking.

You leaned forward, burying your face in the curve of her shoulder and neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, a mix of her unique fragrance and the musky aroma of arousal. Your hands wrapped around her waist, gripping her firmly, your hips continuing the onslaught on her behind.

"Tell me what you want...." you whispered against her skin, the demand a soft rumble that resonated through her body.

Your hushed voice accompanied with grunts made her shiver surprisingly, finding herself at a loss of words for a moment due to the sheer pleasure she was experiencing.

"Mmh.... f-faster.... keep going.... aaahn.... t-this is good....~"

You obliged, increasing the tempo, the thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. The sounds filling the room were primal – your groans, her gasps, the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. The delicate balance of her elegance was momentarily forgotten as pure instinct took over, her body responding with unadulterated pleasure. You focused on her, on the waves of pleasure you were coaxing from her, deriving immense satisfaction from her obvious surrender to sensation.

That's when you decided to change things. You wanted to see her, see the look on her face as she drowns in pleasure, gaze into her fathomless eyes as your bodies melted into one.

"I'm going to turn you over—!" you declared, barely giving her enough time to register the action as you immediately held up her left leg, stopping to move for a moment, and flipped her to lay on her back.

She whined— whined— from the sudden change, yet her hands were quick to reach up and hold you, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you close. You shoved your hips and hilted deep again, then started to move at the same pace as before. The moment you resumed, her head tilted back slightly, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat. Her golden eyes hooded, fixed on you, pulling you in. The whine turned into a low moan as you continued, a sound of pure, rich pleasure vibrating in her chest and against your own.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to the pulse point at her throat, tasting the salt and the heady scent of her arousal. She arched into the contact, her legs wrapping tighter around your waist, urging you deeper, faster. The rhythm quickened again, a frantic, beautiful dance between your bodies, fueled by a desperate need that transcended mere physical release. The table rocked again, your strength becoming visible as you gave up your restraints. Your hands moved her dress down to expose her ample breasts, immediately cupping them.

Aglaea gasped when she felt your lips on her hardened nipple, her arms automatically wrapping around your head to keep you in. Your tongue swirled on the bud, tasting it, then putting your lips on it to suck. She arched into you again as you sucked her nipple, pinching and twirling the other one before switching to suck it as well. Her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your face closer. Her breath hitched, ragged bursts that fueled the fire building within you.

You leaned back up and put her legs on your shoulders before grasping her waist, beginning a new onrush of desperate thrusts. Her breasts jiggled every time, ragged moans resounding in your ear. Her face that rarely harbored emotions showed intense signs of pleasure- eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, a flush spreading across her high cheekbones. You pushed deeper, harder, chasing the crest of the wave alongside her.

"I-I'm close.... hah... should I pull o—?!"

Before you could even complete your question, she waved her hand and golden threads wrapped around your torso and hips, tugging you closer and keeping you in place. You groaned in surprise, feeling your cock be pushed to the deepest depths possible. The tightness coiled around you, warm walls clenching you as if to milk you dry. Her answer was already clear, it seems she had decided this from the get-go.

You dropped her legs down and she wrapped them around your waist now, spreading her arms open for you. You leaned forward and embraced her, the warmth welcoming you, your hips rutting with her. She cupped your face and connected your lips, initiaing an intense and desperate kiss, one that was highly unlike her yet extremely endearing to you.

"S-So am I.... aaah....! Oh, for the love of Mnestia!~" she cried out, pushing your head in the crook of her neck, your face getting squished in her ample breasts.

The floodgates burst, a white-hot torrent surging through you. Your body convulsed, a guttural roar tearing from your lungs as you poured yourself into her, held captive and ecstatic by the golden threads, by her will, by her power. She moaned your name, a sharp, beautiful sound, her body arching into yours as her own release took her. It was a symphony of shared surrender, of two powerful beings collapsing into each other, stripped bare of everything but base need and profound connection.

"Ngh.... A-Aglaea—!~" you moaned her name in return as your release burst forth, the first time you uttered it without a title, and she found herself liking the sound of that.

The tension held by the golden threads lingered for another moment, a final, fading pulse, before they dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind only the ghost of warmth and the heavy reality of your bodies pressed together, slick with sweat, trembling with the aftershocks of your shared climax. Your head rested on her chest, panting, listening to the frantic beating of her heart. The air was thick with the scent of sex and something else, something faintly floral and divine that you now associated only with her.

You then slowly pulled out of her, a squelching sound coming as it dragged out of her drenched folds with a pop. Her form looked elegant as ever, even with your release leaking out of her and her body covered in sweat and heaving. She stood up soon after and embraced you again, her hand gently caressing the back of your head. You couldn't deny you were a little surprised at this, but didn't resist and returned her embrace.

"You have my heartfelt gratitude for this. I.... I had forgotten how it felt, thank you for reminding me and giving me a new, unforgettable memory."

Your eyes widened at her confession, then you gave her a shy smile.

"It's okay, I didn't do much.... I'm just glad you liked it."

Your words tugged her heartstrings, dormant feelings she didn't know she still had. Her fingers grasped your chin and pulled it up to make you look into her eyes, a sultry, seductive smile forming on her face.

"I'm open to sharing more moments like this while you are here~"

You blushed profusely, realizing what she meant.

"M-Me too.... anytime you want...."

She smiled then leaned in for a gentle kiss, sealing the deal.

You washed yourselves then eventually made way to the dining area, as she had initially planned. A feast was long prepared by the Garmentmakers who patiently waited for you both. You had forgotten their existence in that room.... you were just glad they had no face and couldn't speak. You enjoyed a hearty meal together, not speaking much of your recent intimacy, instead engaging in a casual conversation on other topics.

Once finished with the meal, you thanked her for the time spent and were ready to head back now. Although, deep inside you wished to stay a bit longer and just spend time with her, even if doing nothing. You were about to be escorted out when Aglaea sent away the Garmentmakers and approached you, suddenly feeling a bit nervous thinking of what she had in mind.

With a simple flick of her fingers, golden threads were bound around your wrists, tying them together. You stared at her wide-eyed, confused and shocked. She smirked then turned around and started walking further into the house, the threads pulling you and making you follow her. You entered a lavish bedroom, bathed in gold and silk, easily able to decipher it was her private chamber.

Before you knew it, you were shoved on the bed and pulled near the headboard by the threads, your arms held up by them. You couldn't even protest or question her, knowing well where this was headed and you couldn't deny you wanted it. You sat still and waited, watching as she slipped out of her gown, revealing her exquisite body for your eyes to feast on.

Your shaft hardened at once, feeling extremely aroused by everything now, especially her. She climbed up on the bed and crawled towards you, glancing at your erect shaft once and chuckling while her fingers traced your jaw. She straddled your lap then, hips laying snug against your erect length, arms wrapping around your neck as she came closer to whisper in your ear.

"There's more of my hospitality that I'd like to show, esteemed guest. Would you be willing to bear with me and continue this union?~"

Her angelic voice came hushed, instantly sending shivers down your spine and making your length throb. Your clothes were discarded quickly afterwards as her warmth wrapped you again, hips meeting yours with fervour and continuing the revelry from before.

~*~

It was sometime early into the day when Aglaea woke up, body intertwined with yours, marks of your passionate union adorning both of your skins. She gazed at your form sleeping peacefully beside her, feeling some kind of longing surge in her.

"Garmentmaker, bring me my measuring tools."

The puppet obliged immediately, fetching her sewing tape and a notepad. It then aided her master as she carefully took measurements of your body, ensuring not to disturb your slumber. She recalled the way she held your body the previous day, remembering some of the measurements by just touch as she didn't want to wake you up. Soon, she noted down all necessary measurements and sent the Garmentmaker away, laying back down beside you.

Her hand caressed your face as she leaned to kiss your forehead, smiling, pondering over the next garment she was going to design for a person she cherished after so long, a person she held deeply in her inhumane heart. The unfinished fabric would finally be weaved by the Dressmaster of Okhema, and it would be a garment worth no price, as the only price was her love- which she reserved for you.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #aglaea #hsr aglaea #aglaea x reader #honkai star rail aglaea #hsr smut

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xo2dee · 2 days ago

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So I know I requested something but this was just kind of an emergency request not in the sense that like it can't wait to be answered but in the sense that it was so sudden to ask and such, idk if that makes sense I hope it does anyways here it goes, if you would like you could just ignore the other request or what not I'm not sure but my grandad just passed away a week or so ago and it's the first major death I've ever had to deal with in my little 24 years of life. I was wonder how would Dante or Vergil comfort me, he was the closest thing I had to a father. Anyways thank you I live for your writing. ❤ also if you choose not to answer this request that is also okay too. I'll still happily enjoy the other pieces you write.

PAIRING: Dante x Reader WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/comfort, grief, loss of a loved one, talks of death. WORD COUNT: 917

A/N: first i hope you're doing okay babe, and im so sorry for your loss, and i hope by writing this i hope it makes you feel better and i chose dante for it since he feels a little easier giving a situation like this. i do hope you enjoy this and best wishes to you right now 🤍

DMC MASTERLIST

Feet dragging as you moped up the stairs and into your bedroom with the migraine of the century, you couldn’t help the stinging behind reddened eyes and your chest caving in on itself as you fought to come to terms with everything that happened in your life recently.

Losing a loved one was never something you wished to happen to anyone, let alone did you think it’d happen to yourself so suddenly and leave you grasping for precious memories after the shock finally settled in. The days leading up to the service and finally putting them to rest for how they asked was another grueling process on its own, and even then your emotional and mental state had taken a beating in all terms once you finally sat down alone and tried to fight your way through your mind. Or perhaps when you spent too long in the shower or bed, scowling as your throat began to close in itself and the tears began to blur your vision, but you had to remind yourself that you weren’t alone in having to suffer through grief. Not when you had someone who had an idea of just exactly what you were dealing with.

Dante had been nothing but the very thought of just what you needed in a time of loss – his touch bringing you solace and his humor brightening up your days as he pulled teeth and nails of his own to get you to smile and feel at ease.

Dante’s presence at your side was always a welcome one, whether he was just there to sit by your side or leaning into your body in his own form of physical affection, and in your moments of grief and adjusting to what had happened so suddenly he’d been there for you through and through. He’d been practically attached to you by the hip for a week, calloused hands shifting to soothe at your back or fingertips smoothing down the frowning lines that had taken to live on your forehead as your moods had plummeted for the time being. His words had been soft as was his touch to comfort you, his statement of “I have an idea of what you’re going through, but I wanna hear everything you wanna say.”, making you sigh and relax in his hold once you remembered you were in the presence of someone who could understand your grief to an extent.

He'd been so patient with you – never once teasing you when you didn’t immediately get up from bed to start the day, not caring how you stopped holding up your appearance for a time, making sure you stayed fed and hydrated in case you forgot to do either, and really, he was just there. A constant existence next to you with open arms and warmth beyond recognition to let you seek in particular awful moments at night. How many times had Dante let you just silently cry into his chest before you fell asleep there? It had been nothing but his arms holding you as he alternated between just letting you cry it out and a brief word or two to keep you in better spirits.

Yet as it went on, you couldn’t help but think you were beginning to wear down on Dante with the toll death was beginning to take on you.

And as you laid on the bed, yawning as the exhaustion of everything in life creeping up on you, you felt the mattress dip as Dante sat the edge of the bed and the back of his fingers caressed your face as you laid there. The touch made you sigh, and your eyelashes fluttered to keep back the treacherous weeping you’d done enough of while he was around, and you could only sniff through it and trying to bury yourself deeper into the sheets to avoid pestering him again. However, Dante was never one to let you slip so easily through his arms no matter the emotion you were feeling, pulling the sheets back away from your shivering form as he pulled you into his lap before his lips spoke comfort against your temple.

“You don’t have to be strong around me, y’know. It’s okay to not be okay and to not be strong. It’s okay to cry, and if you can’t cry that’s okay too. Don’t let anyone else tell you how to grieve.”

The caving of your chest suddenly felt too weighted with how it exploded in a myriad of different emotions, the first lone tear slipping from your eye a silent one as you hummed and turned your face into his neck for further warmth. Grief was an emotion you could taste as the tear nearly slipped through your lips, but in your heart you couldn’t help the love and elation you felt once Dante had confirmed he wasn’t giving up on you at all, and he’d be there regardless and no matter how long it took for you to be yourself again. And as long as you had Dante by your side, you knew you had those steppingstones along the way.

He shifted again to hold you better, thumb swiping away the tear sitting on your top lip as your ear listened to the soothing melody of his heartbeat before he asked, “What can I do?”

You could only smile, moving your hand until you were interlocking your fingers with his as you opened your eyes to meet his gaze, “You just did it.”

#{🩸} nee fics #💌#dante x reader #dante x you #dante x y/n #dante #dante dmc #dante devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry #dmc x reader

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justnatoka · 3 days ago

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Detective chronicles

David x GN! Reader

A/n: Not gonna lie, I'm an absolute sucker for those kinds of fics where the characters find out that one of them has been secretly in a relationship the whole time with the reader. So of course I've been doing a lot of thinking about how could I implement this with the boys, given that they do everything together and also have their vampire mental link and stuff. This is what I came up with.

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: this is really stupid and extremely unserious

Summary: There's something going on with David. Paul's not sure what it is, but he's determined to find out, roping in Marko and Dwayne as accomplices into his investigative shenanigans.

Something was wrong with David.

Or at least Paul thought so, but he also couldn't be sure it wasn't just the copious amount of weed making him imagine things.

David has been acting different lately. He has been going off on his own more than he used to, sometimes even without telling the boys. More than once in the recent days did they notice that he was just gone one second while they were hanging out on the boardwalk. Paul even caught him sneaking out of the cave one night when they were lounging around. And when he got back, he would be smiling to himself, quickly changing his expression back to neutral before the others realized that he was doing it.

But Paul noticed, yes he did. Many people have written him off as an airhead who's so high all the time he wouldn't even know if fish started falling out of the sky. In reality, he was surprisingly perceptive, even if he usually chose the least appropriate moments to voice his findings.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Marko asked.

He has been watching Paul watching David for a while. Their leader was sitting at the other side of the cave, wrapped up deep in his thoughts. He would have usually barked at Paul for staring by now, and he felt like the fact that he didn't was another sign that he was right.

"Something's fishy," he replied, eyes narrowed, face scrunched up from thinking so hard about this.

Marko peered at David.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you notice anything weird about him?"

Marko glanced at David again.

"I don't know man. Should I?"

At that moment David suddenly stood up, and marched out of the cave without a word. Paul let out a long, wondering hum.

"He's been doing that a lot. And he's always doing these faces when he comes back."

"What faces?" Marko asked, growing more doubtful by the second.

"I don't know man, but it's creepy! He's smiling and shit."

"It's not like he doesn't smile at all," Marko countered, now seriously skeptical of his friend's sanity.

Paul threw his hands in the air in frustration. "But not like this! It looks like he just ripped someone's spine out and enjoyed every second of it," he shuddered.

"I mean that sounds like a good time," Marko grinned.

"I noticed it too," Dwayne chimed up, and they both turned their heads to him.

"Ha, you see?!" Paul hollered, a vindictive little smirk on his face.

"So what do you think is going on, Paulie?" Marko inquired, suddenly growing curious.

He was deep in thought for a second before offering, "Do you think he's going feeding without us?"

Marko looked positively appalled. "He wouldn't dare."

"Do you have a better idea?"

They didn't. The idea that David would go off to have fun killing humans without them was disturbing to think about. It was also really insulting. Weren't they brothers, partners in crime? Why would he just leave them behind like that?

"There's only one thing to do," Paul started, feeling extremely important with all the attention turned to him. "We're gonna catch him red handed."

Marko snorted. "Literally."

Dwayne wasn't sure about this plan.

Of course, he's been wondering about what was going on with David as well. He has been acting out of character, not by much, but enough that it was noticeable. He was clearly hiding something, and that in and of itself was strange. They shared everything, knew everything about each other. They were a team, a family, a pack, they didn't keep secrets.

Or at least he thought they didn't.

But even though he wanted to know, he wasn't sure that this was the right way to go about it.

Currently, they were following David on the boardwalk, weaving through the crowd, bringing more attention to themselves than they should. All thanks to those stupid disguises.

Paul insisted that this would work, that David wouldn't notice them if they wore them, and Marko was fast to agree. The two idiots. The hat and sunglasses were one thing, but where the hell they found the fake mustaches, Dwayne had no idea. Paul presented these items to them before they left the cave, saying that he 'did some research' and that 'every cool detective used these in the movies'. Dwayne had no idea what movies Paul talked about, but he was sure it wouldn't work. When he was offered to try them on, he refused.

And he was right. Here he was, trailing after the terror twins, watching them make a fool of themselves. They were getting suspicious looks, people were pointing and whispering behind their backs, some even snickering. Even among the varied and colorful crowd of the boardwalk, they stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a miracle that David hadn't noticed them yet.

"What's wrong, dude? Not feeling the thrill of the chase?" Marko turned to him, sensing his apprehension.

"This is not a chase, this is a joke."

"Hey!" Paul protested. "Are you making fun of my detective skills?"

Dwayne sighed, knowing that this situation was quickly going sideways. If he didn't appease Paul now, he will have to listen to him complaining all night.

"No, but you attract too much attention wearing that stupid costume. And there's no way David wouldn't recognize you if he saw you."

Paul looked himself over. Aside from the disguises covering his face, he was wearing his usual outfit, and there was nothing he could do about his long hair spilling out from under his hat.

All the while, Marko was looking through the crowd, only now noticing how many eyes were trained on them. He snapped his teeth at a pair of teenage girls, and they quickly hurried along, leaving him snickering under his fake mustache.

"Then what do you want us to do, man?" Paul asked Dwayne.

"First of all, ditch the costume," he said, ignoring Paul's grumbling. "Then we can continue following David."

"Speaking of David," Marko chimed up, "where did he go?"

Looking around, they realized that they lost him. While they were busy quarreling, the crowd swallowed him up without a trace. No matter how much they searched, they couldn't spot that familiar beach blond mullet anywhere.

Paul just facepalmed. Hard.

After the catastrophic failure that was their first attempt to find out where David was disappearing to, the boys decided to go back to the cave and find a new strategy. While they were discussing what to do next, they suddenly heard the telltale crunch of gravel outside. The next second, David walked in, a now somewhat familiar little smile on his face that quickly melted when he realized they were staring at him.

"What?"

"What's up, man? Where've you been?" Dwayne asked casually, being the most level headed at the moment among the three of them.

"Evening stroll," he replied without hesitation.

"Seen anything interesting?" Paul quipped up.

David narrowed his eyes, looking at them for a moment before replying a simple "No."

"Did you feed?" Marko asked, earning a few warning glances from the others.

A teasing smirk appeared on David's face. "What are you my mother?"

Marko quickly shut up. David took this as his que that the conversation was over and made his way to his chair, plopping down and lighting a cigarette. As he went, the others shared a quick glance, communicating without words that this was their chance to try something else.

They reached out with their minds, carefully digging into David's, feeling around tentatively in the hopes of finding something, anything that might give them a clue. It wasn't long until they crashed into a wall. There was a block preventing them from burying further.

They stared at each other, stunned.

"Did he just-?"

"He did."

"What the fuck?"

They didn't want to believe it. It was one thing that he was hiding things from them verbally. It was a whole another that he cut them off from a part of his mind. Their mental connection was something sacred, and the fact that he was shutting them out felt like a betrayal.

Having no other option, they decided to try and follow him again on foot. The next night, not long after David departed from the cave, they gave chase – this time without the disguises. Funnily enough, even though they were a group of vampires and all, they blended in with the crowd a lot easier when they didn't try so hard to hide themselves.

They've successfully tailed him through the boardwalk, keeping a safe distance, stepping into shadows when necessary. They were getting close to the key to the mystery, they could feel it. When David finally stopped, they quickly hid behind a vendor's stall, peering out to see what he was doing.

Their eyes almost fell out of their heads.

There you stood, this pretty thing with twinkling eyes and a gorgeous smile, leaning against the counter of the colorful stand selling all kinds of sweets. Your whole face lit up when you saw David. You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and the look he gave you in return was nothing short of enamored.

There was a crack. That's when Dwayne noticed that he was gripping the back wall of their hiding place so hard it snapped the wood.

It was all downhill from there.

The boys felt themselves fill up with jealousy as they watched you burst out laughing at something David said, your whole body radiating joy, and David was laughing with you. Marko almost choked at how lovesick his expression was. Your hand came up to play with your hair while listening to him talk, drinking in his every word. At that moment, you were the most attractive person they've ever seen. Even from where they stood, the boys could clearly see the attraction between you two, they could feel it.

They were so focused on you, they only noticed the cotton candy in David's hand when he took some and fed it to you, and you were giggling, snapping at his fingers playfully. Then you did the same and when the boys saw David, I-don't-like-my-food-sweet David, eat cotton candy from your hand, they about lost their shit.

Marko almost jumped up and ran over to shake him and ask him who he is and where the real David was. It was only thanks to Dwayne's sharp reflexes that they avoided that disaster. His other hand was slapped over Paul's mouth to prevent him from shrieking.

Marko turned around to look at him with wild eyes.

"What do we do, man? What the fuck is going on?"

"That's so not fair! Why is it always him who gets the hottest babes?" Paul whined, somewhat muffled under Dwayne's palm.

"Everyone calm down," Dwayne started, even though he himself was everything but calm. Seeing their leader be putty in someone's hands shook him to his core.

"I can't watch this anymore! It's too cheesy and sweet and I want to be him so bad!" Paul cried, vehemently shaking his head.

"Let's go back home for now," Dwayne suggested. "Then we can find out what to do."

"And we can question him," Marko added, already flexing his fingers like he was ready for a fight. Dwayne had little doubt that he was. Paul was nodding enthusiastically.

They waited up all night for David. He returned about an hour before the first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon. He was smiling to himself that stupid little smile that they now knew wasn't due to bloodlust, it was because he was hopelessly in love.

He immediately noticed the boys waiting for him, his expression turning back into his natural one.

"What's going on?" he ran his gaze over them as all three stared at him in silence.

Paul pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"You know, that's really not cool, Davey."

"Not cool, man, not cool," Marko parroted, shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

Even Dwayne let out a sigh that was definitely longer than it should have been.

David looked at them skeptically.

"What's gotten into you lot?"

"What's gotten into us? What's gotten into you? We're dying of jealousy, dude!" Paul screeched. "Hiding such a babe from us. We thought better of you, man."

Marko was nodding along, humming.

Dwayne let out another sigh.

David scoffed. "You guys are ridiculous."

"You know what's ridiculous? You melting into your seat as your sweetheart feeds you candy. Now that's ridiculous!" Marko countered, and David's ears turned red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he deflected, trying to walk away, but Dwayne's heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. There was no escape.

"We saw it with our own two eyes, right boys?" Marko continued, the other two nodding along.

"You were practically purring when they batted their eyelashes at you!" Paul joined the teasing, now having a shit eating grin stretched across his face.

"We didn't think you were such a big softie, dude," Marko added fuel to the fire.

"Are you gonna bark if they call you good boy?" Paul cackled.

David was sending them death stares, which weren't very effective with his face growing more red by the second.

"Didn't know you could turn this shade," he heard from behind him, the smile evident in Dwayne's voice.

He groaned. "Not you too."

Dwayne just chuckled, then in a calmer voice asked,

"Why did you hide this from us?"

The other two paused their hollering at that.

David stared at them for a second before he replied, "Didn't want you guys to scare them off."

"Bullshit," Paul waved. "If you didn't scare them off all on your own, I think we would be just fine."

And that was that. The tension further dissolved as Marko and Dwayne snickered, and even David's mouth turned upward into a small smirk. They were still brothers, it took more than a nice piece of ass – cause of course later they all agreed that you indeed had a really nice ass – to turn them against each other.

David knew that now he had no choice but to introduce you to the boys. He also knew that they would tease him relentlessly about how tooth-rottingly sweet he was with you. They would not let him live down what they witnessed that night. But there was nothing he could do about that, he was really hopelessly in love with you.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl @darlingnikkisixxxx @skrimblo-blumpkgo @wpdarlingpan @gibzzsworld @thelostboysforeva @vxncevis @thelostsimp @sireanmagne @acotar-lover @unwhollywater @fanofgunsnroses

Leave a comment on this post if you want to be added to my taglist!

#tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #tlb david #the lost boys david #tlb david x reader

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olderthannetfic · 3 days ago

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Okay, massive fandom pet peeve: Changing some design details or backstory of a character not in an "AU - everything is the same but XYZ" kinda way but just in a "But I like it better this way!" way. There used to be this BIG BFN in my fandom that insisted on changes like that, like changing the MCs eyecolor and called a LOT of attention to it (think "her eyes were the color of the deep sea on a stormy day") or haircolor, or their canon-outfit (as in "They wore their favorite red jacket they always wore every day" when the MC was blue coded as in blue was their main design color and associated with their main power/theme/ect and we never saw them wear anything red at any point in canon). And all of that for. No reason. So far that would just be a bit weird. But what was the main thing I was irritated with with them was that they reacted super defensive and aggressive the moment anybody asked them WHY these changes were made. They always worded their answers like it was OBVIOUS and anybody questioning them was a troll and stupid and their "fixes" were obviously making the canon better/make more sense/ect. Left that fandom a few years back but I heard they are still like that in other fandoms now. Just. Don't be like that. Don't pretend that your little headcanon is suddenly superior just because you like it better and/or you are kinda known in fandom.

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evilminji · 2 days ago

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Okay! Back with THIS Because it hasn't left me alone!

I can? So clearly see it?

The System, arbiter of what Is and Is Not narratively satisfying. Watching through the back of OCs eyes, as it has been, the entire fucking time. Rarely chiming in. Because they, The System (both plural and the Organization), have been running different scenarios with this particular Story. Different Transmigrators and set ups.

Because of the wildly unusual... success? Outlier? The freak Event™ with that Shen Qingqui stand in. (It was CRAZY, man.)

Whole thing got bumped over to R&D, which is here, for Professional Poking At™. And let me TELL ya! There has been some WILD reactions! Half these characters go "hmmm... I have decided to BURN THE WORLD DOWN" at the drop of a hat!

Fascinating~! ( o O-O)c/ *scribbles notes*

Which? Leads to That Moment™. The Moment Luo Binghe goes Too Far, narratively, to retain his Hero title. Even within the loose bounds of a Stalion Protagonist. All? WHILE THE SYSTEM IS WATCHING.

Because it's ONE thing? To return "a hundred fold" an ill done against you. Even if, in reality, that is WILDLY disproportionate. Horrifically so. It breaks hands for minor bruises. Burns homes, for insults payed by children. Creates ugliness in a world that desperately does not need more of it.

However? Oc? Narratively? Was off on her Peak. Nothing but KIND every time they crossed paths. A distant, coveted, elder sister like figure. Stopped bullies, healed wounds, hurt no one. By his own Narrative "rules"? She should be untouchable.

If he was acting like a Protagonist.

But a fall from grace? The tragedy of a good man, corrupted by the cycle of abuse and the legendary Heart Demon Sword Xin Mo? A VILLIAN made of "what could have been" and "our sins come back to haunt us"? Oh~ how the world was Never FAIR! Never KIND! Look how he lashes out!!

Better reassign him. How INTERESTING.

Good thing there's always a BACK UP. All they got to do? Is pop Gongyi Xiao into the Role! And there we go! Huh. Would you look at that. Whole thing got so much more stable. Bit more generic, yes, but he IS an everyman sort. And the supporting cast makes up for it! Look how much MORE can be supported! Fascinating~

Like? Suddenly Tianlang-jun is getting out from under that mountain. Because he's no longer blocked by the "we can't have someone Stronger then the Protagonist"! Cause there's LOTS of cultivators stronger then Gongyi! He's still learning! Growing! That's not the POINT of his journey.

And? Gongyi? Looks a hell of a lot like Binghe. Who? Looks damn near identical?? To his mom. It's one of the horrifying Truth's Gongyi will discover about his Sect and Sect Leader! The man's sick obsession with the honorable Miss Su Xiyan. Whom he resembles.

Imagine.

Being Tianlang-jun. And the boy who helps frees you? Not the sick dog that is your son. A living manifestation of everything that went wrong, there at the end. But... a boy. Proud and honorable. With his vicious little girlfriend. Like all the parts of Su Xiyan you fell in love with, before it all fell apart.

That vicious little thing, the daughter of the man who coveted your wife. So sickened by him, she proclaims she HAS no father. Ha ha... well, now. You know what? Can't have a wedding without someone to give such a vicious little princess away! Call me, father, brat. For I have no son. Just a nephew.

Cause? Little palace mistress? Spending this whole ass time? Learning to be Less Of A Bitch... An Asshole... uuuuh, mean. She's... working on it! Okay!? It's... it's a LOT to unlearn. Her first instinct is to hit people! Sneer and insult the "rabble". She... she KNOWS better. Intellectually. But it's... it's so ingrained.

Gongyi helps. A LOT. And maybe? She makes... friends? Like... not "oh you follow me because you fear me or want Fathers power/money" but like? Actually LIKE me as a person friends! It's wild! She learns to cook... a few things.... sorta...

They didn't burn.

Gongyi ate them! So it couldn't have been THAT bad! She Cooked!! Shut UP!!!!!

She even touched a snake! And DIDN'T kill it! Even though it was gross and scared her! Gongyi caught it. And held it very still. So she could touch it with just one finger. And? Not AS gross as she thought. Not slimy at all! In fact? Surprisingly sweet. She bravely put it back in the bushes. Because they are more scared of us then we are of them!

Turns out it was a Demon, though. Who is now her brother.

Who is FAR to soft. Honestly! How he survived without her to protect him? A miracle. Surely bullied every day. General, her ASS. Hmmph! *proceeds to lovingly bully her new family, much to the approval of demons everywhere*

And like? With the lose of Protagonist statue? Comes the lose of the aura that protected him. Binghe goes FULL Bingge. Xin Mo has a FEILD DAY. It's the God damn SHINING up in this palace. Wakin up to that man standing over OC with his FUCKIN CURSED SWORD and glowing eyes in the dark, despite the fact that she barred and sealed the door with like fifteen different arrays. Not even blinking. Just... a set of red, glowing, eyes and that fucking mark.

Sweet Merciful FUCK™

Could... could you NOT? This is horrifying, dude. She'd ask if you were GOOD but... like... you're clearly NOT. Please Cease at once.

Like? Mobei-jun is regretting everything. Barely holding his lands together under this mad man. Shang Qinghua is too busy using his actually relevant "how to keep yourself alive under an unstable Demon far stronger then you" expertise for the good of his King to... you know... escape. Not that any of them COULD.

Crazy pants over here would fucking FIND them.

Ha ha.... oh god, this is hell, isn't it?

But hey! At least Mobei-jun, who isn't an idiot, is like "waaaait a second. This advice is familiar... was... was I the unstable demon?" *customer service smile* "fuck™. No Wonder you keep trying to leave and betray me. This is awful. I was a paranoid little shit of a child, I will try to do better." "I accept bribes?" "I can do bribes." "Deal, my king."

All while? Cang Qiong Mountain Sect is LOSING THEIR SHIT. Their Talismans (etc) Peak Lord? Feral. Foaming at the mouth. Where??! Is his BABY!? His PRIZED Disciple!? His PRIDE AND JOY!? Off being MOLESTED by some DEMON SCUM! Kidnapped! Absconded with!! Look at his Head Disciple! They are IN TEARS!

Shen Jiu? Seething. Should have killed the little fucker when he HAD THE CHANCE. Did he KNOW he was a demon? No. But that irrelevant! He actually LIKED that Disciple! And the beast STOLE her to do gods only knows WHAT sort of depraved things to her! We should kill him. We should kill EVERYTHING.

(He is SO CALM.)

Old Palace Master probably dragging his feet. Making this about him. Other Sect quibbling. No doubt there's a ballad about the Noble Sacrifice of Maiden Oc to stop the Dread Demon Binghe (who tricked us all). She's gonna hate it. Never be able to escape it. Everyone and their brother is gonna ASSUME shit. Where the fuck is that virginity testing sword?! He was creepy AF and trapped me in his castle! He didn't-!

Don't worry! Says local Troll, Tianlang-jun. I will take responsibility for my son's terrible, terrible crimes! By killing him and marrying you! Thus making you an honest and honorable woman! >:3 *can legit tell nothing has happened, but lives for The Drama and has over a decade to make up for*

MOTHER FUCKER!

*everyone else is losing their minds, insisting that NO, it should be one of the present Honored Cultivators. Don't Worry Oc! It's gonna be okay!* (why the FUCK do ya'll even assume she...! *Sigh* you know what? Fine. Sure. I'll deal with this later...)

@mayfay @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @spidori @hdgnj @leftnotright

#minji's writing #svsss #svsss au #mxtx svsss #luo binghe #scum villian self saving system #hero Gongyi Xiao #Gongyi Xiao #villian luo binghe #luo bingge #little palace mistress #gets her character growth #Tianlang-jun #everybody gets a character arc

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vodika-vibes · 3 days ago

Text

Say Yes

Summary: You’re the only children of the town’s wealthiest farmer. At your mother’s prodding, and with your father’s permission, you’re more of a socialite than a farmer. A chance meeting with a local outlaw changes everything.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 1130

Warnings: None

A/N: I had a hankering for a Western AU, so you got this. Also, tagging @clonethirstingisreal cause it's Hunter. Also, I had a migraine on and off for the last four days, so if it's bad that's why.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You think you might actually be dying.

Layer upon layer of lace and satin and cotton make you feel you’re sweating to death, even while sitting in the shade of the magnolia tree on the edge of your father’s land.

You would give anything to be able to wear a simple cotton dress on days like today, where the sun is high in the sky and it’s like breathing in an oven.

But, that’s not up to you.

You are, as you have ever been, your parents’ most valuable chess piece.

Honestly, you’re lucky that your parents have no issue with you coming so far away from the main house with no companion other than Rudy, your dog, and Sylvester, your horse.

You release a heavy noise and tug your bonnet off your head so you’re able to pull your heavy hair off the back of your neck, just for a moment. You can feel sweat dripping down your spine and the hair that was closest to your neck is a little damp.

Awful. Simply awful.

You pause when Rudy, who had been fast asleep at your side, suddenly sits up, his ears perked to the top of his head, and his gaze locked at something on the other side of the river.

He growls, low and deep, and you hear a light light, “Easy there, pup. I mean no harm to your mistress.”

You know who he is as soon as you see him.

Everyone knows who the Fett boys are, after all.

And there’s only one who has a skull tattooed on his face.

“Hunter,” You drop your hair and lean back slightly to look up at him as he meanders across the river and stops to lean on the fence bordering it. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“You know our land bumps against yours, princess.” He replies with a grin, “I’m more curious as to why the lovely lady herself is so far away from her mother’s protective embrace.”

You sigh, “I’m hardly a child anymore, Hunter. I don’t need to stay within mother’s range at all times.”

“Do they know that?”

You shoot him a look, and he grins at you, “Ah, don’t be like that Princess. I’m only worried about you’re well-being. That’s all.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You counter sarcastically, and then you roll your eyes as he hops the fence and walks over to you. “Did I invite you to join me?”

“Nope.” Hunter replies easily as he settles on the ground next to you and lightly plucks a honeysuckle from the ground to tuck it behind your ear, “But I’m doin’ it anyway.”

“This is why you don’t have a lady, Hunter.” You chide him lightly, even as you reach up to lightly touch the flower behind your ear with a smile on your lips.

His grin widens, “And why don’t you have a man, princess?”

“We both know that’s not my decision.”

Hunter leans back slightly, his gaze dark as he watches you, “And you’re happy with that? Being a pawn to your parents’ game?”

You shrug, “Happiness is for other people, not me.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem fair.”

“And since when is life fair?”

Hunter clicks his tongue, “So you’ll be content with a life of sorrow and loneliness?”

“Sure.”

“You deserve better, Princess.”

You sigh and shake your head, “I will be married off to a rice man from back east. I will be able to live the life that I’ve become accustomed to.” He’d probably believe you more if you didn’t sound like you were trying to convince yourself.

“But you’ll be alone.”

“What other option do I have, Hunter? It’s not like someone’s going to swoop in and save me. You know my parents already have the Sheriff on their side. Even if I were to run away, he’d just return me right to them.”

Hunter is quiet for a moment, but you can feel his heavy gaze on your face, “You’ve already thought it through?”

“Of course I have. You think I want this?” You turn your head to scowl at him, “There are no options for me that result in me being allowed to be happy. Not one.”

He’s quiet again, and you think, for a moment, that the conversation is done. But then he suddenly sits up from where he had been slowly leaning back to lay down. “I have an option for you.”

“Do you?” You ask, more sarcastic than you should have been.

“Marry me.”

Your head snaps towards him, and you stare at him, jaw dropped, in absolute silence for a whole minute.

To his credit, he doesn’t even look uncomfortable at your stare.

“I mean it, Princess. Even your folks won’t cross the Fetts.”

“Because you’re so close to being Outlaws, you might as well already be one.” You remind him.

“That’s not a no.” Hunter says with a grin as he leans in towards you, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

You really should slap him for being so familiar with you, but this is Hunter. “That’s because there are, about, a million reasons why it’s a terrible idea. And I’m trying to decide which one I should start with.”

He leans even closer, and you can feel your face burn as his breath washes over your skin, “Give me one reason that has nothing to do with other people.”

You hesitate, “I’m just going to bring trouble to your family.” You finally say, “Everyone is going to assume that you stole me—”

“I really don’t care about everyone.” Hunter says easily, “What do you want?”

“There’s more to marriage than a mutual attraction.” You reply.

“There’s more to us than just a mutual attraction.” Hunter counters, “Come on, Princess. Say yes. Say yes, and I promise that you’ll be happy.”

You want that. You want it so badly that it makes your heart ache.

And Hunter knows it.

“Come on, beautiful.” His lips brush against yours, “I might not be able to buy you those fancy dresses or jewels that you wear. But I can make you happy.”

“I hate the dresses and jewelry,” You whisper against his lips.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“I want to be loved.” You say, immediately.

And Hunter smiles at you, “What makes you think that I don’t love you?”

“You never said—” You trail off as his lips close over yours in a proper kiss, stealing your words with ease.

“We can take Rudy and Sylvester with us.” Hunter promises against your lips, “I will make you happy, Princess. My Princess. Just say yes.”

You curl your fingers around the loose material of his shirt, and, just before he kisses you again, you whisper, “Yes.”

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@kiss-anon

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

@continous-mistakes

@falconfeather23435

@tiredbi-peach

@kimiheartblade

@clones-cyare

@cc--2224

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@trixie2023

@rebell-ious

@padawancat97

@sweater-sloot

@bb8-99

@maniacalbooper

@wax-birds

@adriennelenoir

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@bad4amficideas

@dukeoftheblackstar

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@arctech-fox

@lokigirlszendaya

@sailorflora

@jetiimasterbekah

@six-1mpossiblethings

@clonetrooperjournals

@ct7567329

#star wars #tbb #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #star wars au

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trashytracktales · 3 days ago

Note

lowkey feel like an overprotective bf who always asks their gf "where are u now" every hour every time you don't post anything 😭😭 LMFAO that's bc i really enjoy your blog and fics so much and it's kinda killin me if i don't read a single thing from you 🥺 but i hope you always have a good day and everything goes well for you #keepwriting #loveeeee ❤

NOTE: I AM IN ACTUAL TEARS. I appreciate you so much, genuinely ♥︎

First of all, know that I have multiple requests waiting in my drafts to be posted. I see every single one of you and your brilliant ideas, it’s just that I am one (1) person, and as I’m posting this, there are over 100 asks chilling in my inbox. I am so extremely sorry for getting to you so late. I, unfortunately, am not a robot nor a writing machine 😔

Second, for the people that are familiar with this blog, you guys know this is not my usual type of content. Honestly, I’m not planning on making a habit out of it, but I do think I owe you a reason why I took such a sudden step back without giving you something.

Sometimes, being in my own head isn’t easy. I know a lot of people are struggling with mental health, and I’ve been battling mine for ages now. Every now and then, the mind wins. It’s not a pretty view when that happens, and the hate I give myself in those moments is unmatched. It’s sad and unfortunately, I’ve never learned how to be kind to myself. I overthink, I overwork my body, and I always forget that I need rest in order to be at my full capacity. When I do forget, my body is reminding me in the most brutal ways.

I know my triggers, I am constantly working on myself, and I am very careful of what external factors I surround myself with. Yet, somehow, I end up in the same vicious cycle. You would think that, by now, I would be better at handling it, but healing isn’t linear. It has many twists and turns, and sometimes a wrong turn leads into a deserted nothingness. Suddenly, you’re all alone and you have to map your way out of there, but it’s dark, you’re tired, and you ran out of gas.

I am not sharing this for pity, but to remind you that we all carry things others can’t always see. Everyone is fighting their own quiet battles, and sometimes just being gentle, patient, and kind can mean the world to someone. I know it does to me, that’s why I am so overwhelmed by your words. If me being open can make one person feel less alone, then it’s worth it.

Writing has saved me more than once. And now, through this blog, I am so grateful for everyone who has ever read me, liked, reblogged, commented and left their thoughts in my inbox. I value you all and this lil chaotic community you’ve helped me build. I miss you a hundred times more, and I can’t wait to be back on schedule aka annoying all of you with 173 posts a day 😌

Thank you so much for (still) being here.

Love you, always ♥︎

– T

#pit stop asks #ask box #trashy track tales #sorry for being depressing #will happen again #haha oops #🎀#mental health #and other stuff #tw rant

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 2 days ago

Text

Don't Forget You Love Me

[kim seokjin x reader] [3.6k yandere!Jin; non-con smut; graphic violence; angst; allusions to sex]

A/N: I didn't intent this fic to go dark so please read with caution and MDNI.

related fics: Not In The Same Way | Not Warriors | Now That We Don't Talk | High

The first thing Seokjin did after coming out of the facility was head to the taco stand you used to frequent during your midnight dates.

Truth be told, he was hoping to run into you when he was dressed better, not when it was obvious where he was these past few months. He even considered, if you were willing, he'd invite you out for a late-night dinner, just like old times. He always smiled at the thought of sharing a meal with you again. A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads in his chest as he daydreamed about your reunion. It was what kept him going, what helped him push through the program.

“Seokjin.” You called his name on a soft, bated breath, making his heart flutter wildly, as if it were trying to escape his ribcage. He echoed your name just as gently, voice laced with disbelief and longing. Then, without hesitation, his feet carried him across the stand, closing the distance between you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says with a grin. He’d always known you were pretty, but after being isolated from the world—and from you—for what felt like forever, it was like being thrown back in time. Back to the first time he met you.

You were his North Star—Seokjin’s reason, his drive to get better. He was going to mend things with you. And just like he promised, he was going to marry you.

You hum in response, lips puckering slightly as you try to form a sentence. A quiet moment passes before you smile at him.

“You’re out,” you say slowly, softly, as if unsure whether it’s even the right thing to ask. “How have you been?”

With a beaming grin still plastered on his face, Seokjin nods. “Just now. I missed this place, you know? They don’t exactly serve tacos on Tuesdays in rehab.” At this, you smile and he can't help but stare. He missed you so much—everything about you.

For a moment, it felt like time stood still. His eyes locked onto yours, both your faces reflecting the same mirthful smile. Seokjin’s confidence grew.

You hadn’t exactly ended things on the best note. He had cowardly left his goodbye in a voicemail—one you never responded to. So, he just assumed you were angry at him. And rightfully so.

He’d spent his days in rehab imagining how to ask for your forgiveness, how to win you back. But now, here you were—smiling at him, like old friends finding each other again.

The bell dinged, snapping you out of the moment as the staff called out your order from the counter. The spell broke, but any second longer and Seokjin was sure he might’ve cried from happiness.

“Here,” you said, offering your food. “I think you deserve to have a bite before I do.”

It was instinct—muscle memory. Seokjin leaned down to your height and took a bite of the taco straight from your hand.

You were startled. And so was he—but not from the bite.

“I—” Seokjin began, standing upright again, suddenly aware of the space between you. “I’m sorry. That was… too familiar. I didn’t mean to cross a line.”

You looked at him, a small airy laugh escaping your lips as you waved it off. “It’s fine, Seokjin. Really.”

But the way you said it—light, casual, like it didn’t matter—made something twist in his chest. Like he’d overstepped. Like he’d read the moment all wrong. You were being kind, but not warm. Not in the way you used to be. And suddenly, he felt like an intruder. Like someone who didn’t belong in the soft, easy moment he thought you shared.

He opened his mouth to say something else, to maybe apologize again, or at least explain himself—but before he could, a voice interrupted.

“I thought I was supposed to have the first bite.”

A familiar figure appeared beside you, arm casually draping over your shoulder. The man hadn’t even noticed him yet—his eyes were on you, grinning like you shared a hundred inside jokes. And for a second, Seokjin wished he could disappear in the night.

“Hoseok,” you said, hastily turning towards the man. “Sorry, got hungry." Hoseok smiled then glanced up—finally noticing Seokjin standing in front of you. His smile faltered, just for a beat. “Oh. Hey.”

Seokjin gave a stiff nod. “Hey.”

The three of you knew each other once—shared laughter over cheap beer and late-night walks, bonded by youth and the comfort of familiarity. Hoseok had been around, the ever-sunny friend with talent that you gushed over and eyes that lingered on you a little too long. Seokjin had noticed the admiration back then, but never worried. He already had you. But now… now he wasn’t so sure.

Watching Hoseok wrap his arm around your shoulder, so casually, so naturally—it twisted something deep in Seokjin’s gut. You wouldn’t bring just anyone here. This was your place. His and yours. For the longest time, he thought that still meant something, but seeing you standing there with someone else made him dread the thought he hadn’t even let himself entertain until now: maybe you weren’t his anymore.

Seokjin cleared his throat and awkwardly stepped toward the counter, suddenly overly interested in the menu he already knew by heart. The silence between the three of you hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken things.

“It was nice seeing you, Seokjin,” you said gently. “We’ll be going ahead.”

He turned toward you, offering a polite nod. But the moment felt brittle, breakable—so he quickly turned back around, pretending to study the laminated sign above the register. He counted to three, hoping to calm the sudden swell in his chest.

He should’ve counted to ten.

When he looked back, the sight felt like a suckerpunch.

With perfect, cruel timing of fate, Hoseok leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek—soft, familiar, meaningful. That kiss was not a friendly gesture. It clearly meant something. Something Seokjin knew it too well. He had seen that look before—on your face. It was the same expression you used to reserve just for him, in those sweet, sacred moments of first love. When nothing else existed, when the world blurred and it was just the two of you.

But now you were looking at someone else that way.

And Seokjin could only stand there, silent, tasting the bitter afterthought of what used to be, but he insists it was the taco. Besides, he was never one to back down—not when it mattered. Not when it came to you. Not now.

He watched you walk away, laughter mixing with Hoseok’s, sounding like nails on a chalkboard to him. Seokjin didn’t move. Not because he was defeated, but because he was coming to a firm decision.

He hadn’t spent months in rehab just healing; he’d spent them remembering. Planning. Rebuilding himself for you. He’d kept tabs—quietly, through his manager, through whispers from mutual friends—and not once did he hear of you dating anyone. Not officially. Not seriously. He didn't think what you had with Hoseok when he left was something other than a public stunt.

So unless you looked him in the eye and told him it was over—truly over—he wasn’t giving up.

You just needed reminding.

Reminding of who you used to love. Of how you loved him. How your life were and would be laced with him in every corner. He knew you. You were a creature of comfort, of ritual. And Seokjin? He was a habit you’d never quite been able to quit.

Maybe you and Hoseok were in a real relationship. Maybe he was the one walking beside you. But Seokjin had this wicked thought he is ashamed of having, of believing: just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.

He would take his time. He would be patient. He was not about to let you forget how much you love him. He would remind you why you once called him home. And when the time was right, he would prove to you—you and him? You were always meant to be endgame.

You're jolted awake by the incessant ringing at your door. Mind still foggy with sleep, you warily climb out of bed. Only two people knew where you lived—your manager and Hoseok—and they’d know better than to show up without texting first.

As you reached the door, you lean toward the wood and peek through the peephole.

A familiar face tilts into view—smiling.

You open the door to find Jin, who immediately lifts his hands, each holding coffee and a small bag of pastries. "Morning!"

He sees your stunned expression but doesn’t hesitate to step inside like he owns the place.

"Seokjin," you mutter, still half-asleep, "what are you doing here? It’s 7 a.m."

"Breakfast," he says plainly. "You’ve got press at ten, right? I remember you always forget to eat when you're busy prepping for interviews." And for the second time, he leaves you stunned. He offers you a paper cup. "I asked them to make it just the way you like it."

You hesitate for a moment before sitting in the chair he pulled out for you. Warm coffee in hand, you slowly start to wake up, sipping between bites of pastry. You're halfway through your drink when the doorbell rings again—followed immediately by the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Shit. Hoseok. You panic.

You’d left your phone in your room and missed his text.

The door swings open, and Hoseok steps inside. From across the room, his eyes land on you first, then Seokjin, then the table, now crowded with way too many pastries for just two people.

"Looks like you’ve already had breakfast," he says calmly—too calmly. His tone is cool, detached, but the heat in his eyes betrays him. It’s not the breakfast that bothers him. It’s Seokjin sitting far too close.

As if Hoseok wasn’t already flaming with irritation, he hears Seokjin quip, “So he knows you that well too, huh?”

Of course he did. Hoseok clenches his jaw. He knows everything about you—your past, your present, the things that make you tick and the things you’ll never say out loud. The things Seokjin didn’t get the chance to learn. Petty as it might be, Hoseok clings to the quiet pride of knowing the old and new you.

His eyes flick to the coffee cup on the table. The one Seokjin brought. Not your usual—not anymore. Without a word, he strides forward, picks up the half-empty cup, and places a new one in its place. A plain black iced Americano. No sugar. No whip.

“Y/N doesn’t drink sweet coffees in the morning,” he says evenly, not even glancing at Seokjin.

Jin only nods, the smile on his face dimming slightly, though it doesn’t completely disappear. He leans back in his chair, folding his arms with casual ease. “Guess some habits change.”

You stay seated, caught between them like some sort of unspoken battle line. You sip the new coffee Hoseok brought without thinking, grateful for the bitter familiarity, but you can feel the tension crackling in the air—quiet, sharp, and inevitable.

"I look forward to your interview, Y/N," Seokjin says, his voice softening as he turns to you.

His eyes linger just a second longer, the corners of his mouth lifting into a gentle smile—one that belongs to an older time, one you used to know well. There's kindness there, a thread of something unspoken, something he doesn't expect you to return, but offers anyway.

Then he straightens, and the chair screeches faintly as he pushes it back. The warmth in his eyes disappears the moment he shifts his gaze to Hoseok.

"Hoseok," he says, with an edge so faint it could be missed—but it isn't. It's a line drawn, quiet and sharp. "See you around."

With that, he walks to the door, doesn’t slam it—just closes it with a precise click that somehow feels louder than it should.

Silence settles for a beat. You don’t move. The scent of coffee and pastries feels suffocating now. The embers of his presence still linger in the air, like smoke that doesn’t belong to any fire currently burning.

Hoseok doesn’t speak right away. He just walks to the chair Seokjin left and slowly pulls it back in, not sitting—just grounding the room again.

"Why was he here?" he finally asks, his voice calm, almost too calm.

You don’t answer immediately, unsure if you want to. He doesn’t press you for it. Instead, he walks over to where you’re still sitting, and crouches just slightly so he’s at eye level. No judgment in his expression. Just understanding.

"He’s still got that effect on you, huh?"

You nod, barely. It’s all you can give.

Hoseok exhales softly and places a steady hand on your arm—not clinging, just anchoring. Like someone standing with you a few feet from a bonfire. Not getting pulled in, but close enough to feel the heat. To know how easily you could still burn.

"You don’t have to explain," he says. "Just… don’t let him keep pulling you back into flames you already walked through."

"I won't," you mumble. At this, Hoseok smiles. He leans towards you and let his lips graze yours. It's comforting, a new familiarity that you allow yourself to sink into. You pull him closer to you, letting his body heat engulf you. But you want more, and you weren't shy to ask—or at least let Hoseok know so. With a moan of his name between the sliver space between your swollen lips, you wrap your legs around his waist and grind against his crotch.

"Need you," you whine. Hoseok carries you away from the kitchen, his strides leading to your bedroom. "I'm here, sweetheart."

The lights from the live broadcast flicker across Seokjin’s screen, but his eyes don't move away from you.

His heart stutters a little when you smile at the interviewer—polished, composed, magnetic. So damn pretty it hurts. The kind of pretty that isn’t just about the way you look, but the way you hold yourself. The way you think before you speak. The way your eyes soften at certain questions.

He leans back on his couch, one leg lazily draped over the other, his lips tugging into a quiet, giddy grin.

You were glowing.

But all he could think about was how in an hour or two, you'd be home. You’d walk through your door, probably kick your shoes off the same way you always did, maybe talk to Hoseok—maybe not (he hopes not)—and eventually, you’d make your way into your room.

And there they'd be.

Blue tulips, your favorite. His too, now, because they were yours first.

Arranged neatly in the glass vase you left in your once shared apartment. He’d asked the florist for just the right shade. Not too purple, not too bright. True, midnight blue. Nostalgic and cool and rare.

Just like you.

He wonders what your face will look like when you see them. Will your brows furrow first, cautious? Will your lips part, caught off guard, before curling into something you’ll quickly hide? Will you know immediately it was him?

Of course you will.

Nestled between the stems is the note—handwritten, cocky, sweet, and unapologetically flirty.

He doesn’t regret the card. Not a single word of it.

It was bold, yes. Maybe even reckless.

But it was intentional.

It was meant to provoke you. To stir something inside you that time tried to quiet. He hopes it does more than just bring a smile—he hopes it unravels you just enough to remember.

To remember how good it was. How he was anything you needed: a romantic boyfriend, a supportive friend, a lover who knew every angle of your body and mind like it was his favorite song.

He can be that again. He wants to be that again.

And tonight, as he watches you thank the host with that polite little bow, he finds himself praying—genuinely, silently—that the flowers work. That they reach you in all the ways he can’t right now.

That you’ll see them… and come back to him. For now, he thinks of that moment. The vase you both crafted—inappropriately. The curve of the ceramic meant to imitate your waist and the hole patterned after his girth.

By midnight, the irritation had brewed too long, too loud. You couldn’t sleep with the scent of nostalgia blooming in every corner of your room. You moved the vase around your home—from your bedroom to the balcony, only to end up on your living room sill. You decide you'll throw it out first thing in the morning.

You grabbed your phone and dialed the number you told yourself you deleted months ago.

He picked up after the first ring, like he was waiting.

“Y/N,” Seokjin greeted, his voice low and warm—too calm for how you were feeling.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you snapped. “Sending flowers like that—sneaking a damn note into them? You can’t just show up and try to romanticize your way back into my life!”

There was a pause. And then, infuriatingly, a chuckle.

“You called me,” he said, smugly. “So, it worked.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you hissed.

“I knew it would get under your skin,” he went on, completely undeterred. “That’s what you do when you still care—you react.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You grip your phone harder.

“I’m not,” he said softly. “I just… miss you. I want us back. We were good together, Y/N. You know we were. I’ve changed.”

The words landed like stones. He had said them before. In tears. In rage. In apologies.

“No,” you said firmly. “Whatever we were doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t want it. I don’t want you, Seokjin.”

For a moment, the line went silent. You thought he hung up.

Then he whispered, “You’re choosing him over me?”

“I’m choosing me.”

And with that, you ended the call.

You had just started to finally doze off when the sound of the door unlocking shot you upright. You froze. Only two people knew where the spare key was kept—and Hoseok never used it without asking.

“Y/N?”

Seokjin.

You scrambled out of bed, heart pounding as he stepped into your room like he still lived here.

“What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, grabbing a long shirt to cover yourself.

He looked like he hadn’t slept. Hair tousled, eyes bloodshot, but burning with purpose.

“You won’t listen to me,” he said. “So I came to make you listen.”

“You can’t just come in—”

“I had to,” he said. “I had to show you. I’m not the same man. I went through rehab, I faced my demons, I came out better. I am better, Y/N. For you. For us.”

“There is no us, Jin.”

He flinched like you slapped him.

“I’m not Hoseok,” he said, voice rising. “I loved you before he even knew who you were. I know your soul, Y/N. I know your habits, your dreams, the way you hate being left in silence after an argument. I know you better than anyone. Even him.”

You backed up instinctively, your voice shaking, “I’m asking you to leave.”

“No.”

“Seokjin—please.” That word—please—unsettled something in him. His face darkened.

“You still look at me like I’m a mistake. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t.” He took another step forward.

And this time, your voice cracked as you repeated, “Get out.”

The silence after that was suffocating. He stared at you for a long, unbearable second. You thought—hoped—he was leaving when he turned toward the door.

But then… you hear a click. Then another. He locked the door. Double-locked it. Your heart sank.

"Jin," you said, voice cautious now, "what are you doing?"

He didn’t turn around right away. Just stood there, hand still on the lock, the tension in his shoulders rising like a tide about to break.

"I didn’t come all this way for you to shut me out again," he said slowly. "Not after everything I’ve done."

You took a step back. “Seokjin. Open the door.”

He finally turned to face you, his eyes searching yours—desperate, manic, and heartbreakingly familiar.

"Why do you keep pushing me away like I’m the villain in your story?" he asked. "I loved you, Y/N. I still do. And I know you felt it too. I know there’s still something here."

“There was something,” you snapped. “But you burned it to the ground, and I’m not going to stand here and watch you try to crawl through the ashes like nothing happened.”

His jaw clenched, the air thick with all the words neither of you wanted to say.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Then leave,” you said, firm now. “That’s the only way you won’t.”

"No," he insists. "Perhaps you need a better reminder. Something tangible to feel, not just stupid pastries and flowers to woo you."

Your eyes dart around the room, looking for your phone. "Jinnie," you gulp; attempting to appeal to him.

Everything happened so fast—with a few strides, Seokjin was infront of you—his hands gripping your arm. You try to pull back, plead again to the man who claimed to love you but your words were muffled by his mouth on yours—invasive and forceful.

He pushes you roughly, making you land on the carpet. You sob out his name, "Please. Please don't do this."

"You want me to do this, Y/N. It's okay—you only need reminding."

Seokjin didn't bother to lift up the shirt you wore or even pull down your garments. He was impatient—he had to make you remember now. Without care, he sunk his fingers inside you, making you wail. He hovers above your body, his covered crotch grinding against your leg.

It didn't take long before Seokjin pulls out his cock—rigid and weeping. He thrusts inside you—his hands pin yours to the carpet and his face lowers to devour you once again.

"Tell me you love me," Seokjin rasps above you. "Tell me you didn't forget about me."

He sees the tears in your eyes and instead of taking pity on you and stopping his assault, Jin licks up the tears and sealing your eyes with a kiss. "You love me. Tell me you love me, Y/N"

Mustering up the air left in your lungs, you gasp "I love you, Jin." The words like stale bread on your tongue. The room echos with slapping skin and breathy moans as he speeds up his thrusting. Seokjin peppers your face with kisses and you could only move your face to the side.

Your sight lines with something familiar, something bright and vivid.

And yet, to you, the tulips didn’t look so beautiful anymore.

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