#before you come at me for not noticing: my grow lights are purple

[mothlm]

I thought my avacado was sick but after trimming it and seeing the leaves outside it looks variegated???? I've never seen this before!!

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[dilftaroooo]

Not sure if your requests are closes right now sorry if they are-

But you should do Yuji fucking fem!reader or eating her out and Sukuna switching with him in the middle of it 😊

nonnie im so happy to breath the same air as u

★tags: aged up characters + afab reader + she/her pronouns + spanking + oral (f. receiving) + fingering + implied piv sex (very brief tho) + praising + sukuna bashing yuji smdh.

Your beloved boyfriend always manages to find himself emerging in the sloppy heat that rests between your thighs. Salmon fields adorned with restless digits splay across the top of his head as he licks and laps at you desperately. It's good pussy for the soul and he would hate if he would've missed this opportunity to have you sing out his name while you involuntarily send pressure to the sides of his head with your rigid thighs.

Your chest heaves and ho's at the heavy mass of passion with each inconsistent breath you take--jagged whenever Yuji coos at your hard clit, telling her how he's obsessed with her and her owner before giving her a light peck.

"I want you to fuck me already, Yu." You croak impatiently, wiggling your hips to emphasize your desires but Yuji gives you a quick slap to the side of your ass and squeezes it right after.

"Not now, baby. Let me enjoy what's in front of me first. Can I get that?" He watches you under the rise of your pelvis. His words are soft and whispered in a tone he always uses with you whenever he wants to feel you clench. Honey-glazed globes look at the feast upon him amorously. Your previously shaven hairs start to grow into stubble as it retrieves itself back to its original state; wet and coated with your juices. He buries his nose further.

A moan was a good enough answer for your boyfriend and he keeps doing what he was born to do. You continue to plead for him as he eats you out. "I'm right here, lovely. Not going anywhere." He'd respond with each fervid call.

His sucks at your cunt arouses you tenfold once you feel yourself coming to that edge at the tippy top of a mountain as gusty winds roughly kiss at the apples of your cheeks and the lids of your closed eyes. It's easy to tell you're close as Yuji hums into wet folds causing you to rattle.

"Oh fuck, Yuji. Keep going, sweet boy. 'M gonna come soon..."

Your nails cautiously dig into his scalp, not enough to hurt him severely, and your legs wrap around bulging muscle for support of your incoming orgasm. His body glistens under the light of the living room and blesses you with each defined section of muscle to pop under dark shadows.

But the devil is a conniving bastard for your reach to climax was interrupted when you flinch at the harsh bite gnaw at your clit, sending you to scurry backward away from the abrupt pain but strong arms keep your legs in place to force you into more torture. Looking down, you noticed Yuji's canines were sharper than usual. His skin was tainted in elongated markings, ones Yuji had never worn. His nails were painted in a deep violet and you think to yourself, 'Yuji couldn't have possibly put that on so fast,'.

"That sappy shit was starting to churn my stomach. How about you do that whenever I'm not possessing you? I already get nauseous knowing I'm living inside a fucking idiot." His voice was deeper too.

"Y-You're Sukuna, right? Yuji told me about you." You've never seen eyes glaringly red like his--four of them. They all watch you with a look of interest paired with a cunning smirk.

"That's right, dollface. Very good. Glad you know of me already, so we can skip the greetings." He resumes his host's previous ministrations but turns it up a notch by adding a finger or two to your drooling pussy. He teases a glossy, purple tip along the quivering hole before pushing in deep. As soon as he learns you can perfectly take one, he puts the second one in. A grin remains still on his face when hearing your moans crescendo.

"My, my. You're already soaking my fingers, dove. Guess that brat is doing something properly for once. Slobbering all over the couch, fuck, can't remember the last time I've seen pussy like this." His index and middle fingers dance across the gushy ridges in you, he moves them in ways Yuji knows you love and that feature shocks you.

He gorges on your clit and eats your pussy out like it's his last meal on earth before being sentenced to death. Saliva runs down the length of your labia, bubbles forming along the way by his boisterous lapping. Your hips can't resist gyrating against his face, ruby red remains settled on your helpless figure as you revisit that same high as before. You bathe his fingers with cum til they prune and you're too overstimulated to feel sorry.

The couch dips and you're instantly turned around on your stomach, facing the decorative pillow you believed matched the aesthetic of your living room.

"Hey, what're you-"

"You said you wanted to get fucked remember? Your cunt is still drooling cus she's hungry. Didn't give her enough." The smacks he gave your ass were harder than Yuji's and that just goes to show how rough this curse really is but you writhed nonetheless.

He was gonna fuck you good. You already figured much as hands grip around the fat at your hips and his cock carefully grinds into you.

[angel-sweets666]

Cast me a spell

barbarian! Bakugo x witch Afab! reader one shot

A barbarian needs a spell to cause the downfall of his enemies, he found just the witch to do it

warnings: smut

chapter two here

a/n bro I just freestyled this 😭😭 btw I made it afab cuz it’s smut and I probs can’t write gay sex rn but everything else is gender neutral trust. Also this is my first time writing smut so please don’t judge 😭

Bakugo is aged up to 20

Bakugo groaned as he walked in forest, dry leaves and twigs snapping under his boot. Bakugo had been sent by his tribe to find a witch, a witch who would rig the war they were in and beat the other tribe. Bakugo didn’t know why he had to go, there were so many barbarian men who would go! Why’d it have to be him! The elders found him the strongest clearly, that’s got to be a good sign. Maybe he’ll inherit the chief title from his father…. Bakugo shook the thoughts away as he looked around for some kind of cabin, some sort of suggestion to show there is a witch out here like the elders say, maybe they’ll see bakugo is strong and worthy if he manages to make the witch come with him back to the tribe. Bakugo whistled while looking around, suddenly a fox came up to his legs and sat by him “what..? What do you want you pest” he tried to kick the fox, but the fox dodged it and used his head to tell bakugo to come with him “I’m not going with a fox forget it.”

bakugo continued walking before the fox yelped out and four more foxes appeared, all different colours. What stood out to him was how one fox seemed to have a light purple almost lavender colour, the sun made it difficult to see however “huh..? No I don’t trust no fo- OUCH!” Bakugo yelped as all 5 foxes bit him and tried to drag him too the other way “fine! Fine! I’ll follow you..” bakugo grumbled, seemingly annoyed. The foxes let go and began to lead bakugo down a pathway, he began to see fruits and vegetables being grown on a sort of farm. Bakugo at first thought that the foxes were leading him to a farmer and this was some sort of advertisement but he was proved wrong when he saw a fairy dust like powder float above the crops and then be placed ontop, making the crops grow almost twice their size and look healthier. Then he noticed the clearly unnatural cloud of rain water the plants, it was so close to the ground that there was no way it was natural. It just hovered over the crops in a neat line. Then the natural sun seemed to do some good. Bakugo noticed that the creatures seemed to look more mythical the further he went, once black birds were now beautiful shades of blue, pink, yellow ect. Cats and bunnies around began to come up in more colourful shades too, bright blue and green eyes watching. Now the flowers had a glow, they were all gold and sparkling. Everything looked unnatural and non normal…mythical, almost fairy tail like… he began to hear the humming of a person he was preparing for a ugly hag.. but no, a beautiful person with a equally as mythical look to them! You! A fox went up the To you and you got on your knees to “hear” what it had to say, then… you looked up at bakugo

“what are you needing…?” You asked him as you raised to your feet “I.. Uhm… I need something, my tribe actually. My tribe needs something” he informed you “needs… needs what?” You began to walk towards bakugo “a bad luck spell.. something like that. We’re at war and…” “you want me to rig it..?make ‘em loose?” You interrupted him “how’d you know…?” Bakugo was shocked “I know this stuff, now.. do you want them to loose..?” You asked softly and he nodded “I think.. I think I have just the thing, come inside” you used your finger to motion him to come inside. You began to mix up a potion, full of that gold flower, the fairy dust like powder, a couple fruits, some other unknown ingredients ect… you put it in a bottle that while it looked small, could fit a whole tribes worth of water. Then you stepped towards a book shelf, looking through the spell books available to you. You made a “ah” sound and then pulled a dusty book, blowing the dust off. “Do you have anything of the uh.. other sides” you asked him “like their hair or some shit?” He asked aggressively “that could work, clothes, arrows they shot, accessories, blood. Anything that come from the other team”

Bakugo thought for a moment, “uh… I have a piece of one of their swords” he pulled a bloodied peice of metal out from one of his pockets, dried blood falling off and onto his fingers “that works!” You grabbed the piece of metal and placed it by an unlit candle, grabbing a match and lighting it. You reached over to light the candle and then sat by the candle and began to whisper something, like a prayer. “What are you doing?” He asked, you ignored him and continued your whispering “answer me” he grumbled, you looked at him then closed your eyes again. Once again continuing your whispering, after a couple of minutes you finished and slowly stood back up “doing a spell, as per you asked.” You grabbed the glass bottle full of the potion “you feed these to your armies, you’ll be strong enough and the war will be over in a day or two” you said quietly to him as you placed the bottle into his hand, and closed his hand for him. “What would it taste like?” He asked “like water, what do you think?” You leaned your weight onto one hip “I don’t know, like shit?” He rolled his eyes “don’t get an attitude with me” you got up into his face “who are you talking to like that?” He grumbled “you obviously” you chuckled then walked off. Grabbing herbs and other stuff, clearly organising stuff “what you just going to stand there?” You asked, wondering if he was going to leave anytime soon, looking over your shoulder at him. “Could you come back with me? To my tribe?” He asked with his typical rough deep voice “why would I do that?” You placed books in a wooden book shelf “we need your help” “I’ve already helped you haven’t I?” “Just do it.” He grumbled at you, grabbing your shoulder “mmmm no” you said

in pure frustration with you bakugo picked you up and threw you over his shoulder “oi! Why’d you do that!” You kicked in an attempt to get away from him “get over it princess” he chuckled as he pushed the door open with his body and then walked you in the forests back to his tribe, holding your body over his shoulder and your legs down with his arms to prevent you from kicking him “out me down put me down!” You screamed as you yanked at his hair, he didn’t notice nor did he care. “Will you be good and not walk off? You’ll follow me?” He asked as his ego got larger and larger “ughhhhhh fine!”you agreed, he leaned down and placed you down onto the ground “you owe me, I rigged a tribal war for you” you said with a obvious attitude “oh yeah? What do I owe you? A animal? Weird ingredients for your freaky potions? A quest? Sex? A man from my tribe once had to sleep with a witch for potions” he listed off his ideas “why would I sleep with you? Your egos probably bigger than your dick.” You crossed your arms in frustration “someone’s got an attitude” bakugo playfully shoved you “don’t even.”

you went back to bakugos tribe, he gave his tribe the potion you gave them, the war just like you said was over in a day. You ended up having to follow bakugo around because you didn’t know anyone else as well, you eventually had gotten used to the change, by the sixth month of living there you were considered one of them. I’ve had atleast 50 people come up to me asking if your my spouse/wife/husband” he said while you two were going for a walk “well lucky I’m not” you chuckled “maybe you should be, I’ll need a wife/spouse/husband when I become chief” you blushed deeply “w-w-what..?”you stuttered “it’s true, they don’t let people who aren’t married be chief. I’m next in line to be chief and I’m not married” he informed you “are you trying to propose to me? You’ve known me a whole of 6 months!” You said in surprise “my parents got married after 3” “is that like a cultural thing?” You asked “yeah… the other tribes get married after a later time, I guess this is what we’ve always done, we done need to love each other, just so I become chief.” He says “so this is a proposal?” Your eyebrows raised “yes I suppose it is.” Bakugo grumbled “I’ll think about it”

you laid in bed that night as you stared at the roof of your hut, thinking about what bakugo said. You slowly rolled out of bed and put some shoes and stumbled out of your wooden hut and looked towards bakugos hut, the light from his windows suggest he was still awake. You slowly walk towards his hut, the sound of grass beneath your feet. Most huts were dark, a way to say the people in them were asleep; not bakugo though. Bakugo stayed up late training. You knocked on bakugos door, you could hear him put something down then walk towards the door; he opened the door and he looked down towards you “oh.. hello” he said in surprise “I Uhm…whatcha doing?” “Working out, your supposed to be asleep” he furrowed his eyebrows “yeah I know but I can’t sleep” you said as you walked into his hut, flopping onto his bed “don’t get too comfy there” he sat down next to you “your beds comfier then mine though….” You whined and got yourself buried into his bed sheets, he sneakily wrapped an arm around you “what are you doing..?” You asked him “nothing..” he said with a smile “your really trying when it comes to this whole getting married thing..” you whispered to him, his hand reached for your hips “maybe I am…. Maybe I’m not” he sighed and rubbed your side. You rolled over to lean on his chest a bit, you used light magic to make fire flies appear, having a sort of light show appear. Bakugo watched it and smiled “have you always been able to do that..?” He asked “since I was around 8 maybe…” you replied, bakugo reached into your shirt, softly rubbing your chest. You whimpered softly, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your neck. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly “no…” you replied.

you slowly wiggled out of your bottoms, he watched you do it from above. He smiled softly at the sight. “Should we just get straight at it?” He asked softly as he unbuckled his belt, an obvious buldge in his pants. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him “just be a good girl him?” He grumbled and managed to pull his pants down and pulled his member out “tell me if it hurts bub” he says softly “okay.. yeah I can do that” you nodded, you felt him slowly push inside of your body. He let out a slight grunt, you bit down on your bottom lip. He eventually bottomed out which didn’t take long due to the size of his length. “C-can I uh… mmph.. m-move now..?” He whined softly “mhm..” you whines and spread your legs a little bit wider for more access to your body. He slowly pulled out almost all the way only for him to push back in, you yelped and wrapped your arms around his neck. Burying your face into his neck while he thrusted into you, stretching you out. It had been a while since either of you had done something like this so it was obvious why he was so needy. He gripped your waist softly and eventually found a pace that both of you found pleasurable. You let out a moan as he began to go a bit faster with you, the tip of him tapping against your cervix, the knot in your belly began to tighten suggesting the fact you were getting close “mmph..” he whimpered as he buried his face into your neck, you reached up to pet his hair. You moaned and whined. Eventually his thrusted became sloppy and more like he was chasing his own climax, the knot in your tummy threatened to burst and eventually… it did. The warmth of his cum going inside you was a comforting feeling

“you know maybe I will marry you…”

[mangostarjam]

playing nice — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established... something, reader wears a skirt, shameless smut, face sitting, oral sex (f!receiving), doggy style, creampie, 1.7k words

"Sit."

Your thighs tremble as you hover above him. Hoshina Soshiro smooths his gloved hands over your bare legs. "What's gotten into you?"

"C'mon, darlin', just sit," he murmurs. You can barely see his easy smirk as you hitch your skirt up higher, exposing your damp panties with a sigh. "I'll swear it'll be nice."

"That's not the problem," you swallow. Red eyes peer up into yours and you shudder as he grips your thighs. The rough fabric of his gloves scratch against your skin. "Didn't you just come back from a mission?"

"Want me to take my gloves off?" Soshiro asks. You nod shakily and he grins, maintaining eye contact as he carefully, slowly removes his gloves with his teeth. Sharp canines flash in the warm afternoon light with each tug of fabric. "I didn't get dirty, y'know. I was busy directin' the troops."

"Doesn't matter," you say. "If you're gonna drag me in while I was having a perfectly lovely walk, you should be nicer about it."

Soshiro chuckles, tossing his gloves aside. His hands immediately go back to your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh and wrenching them slightly more apart. Your knees slip on his jacket that he's so helpfully placed beneath you, but his grip is steady and you barely even wobble thanks to his hold. It's hazy — your blood feels hot, thrumming in your veins, heat rushing to your cheeks and chest.

"I'm not a strong man," he says. Purple strands splay out along the hard wooden floor of the storage room he's dragged you into. "I saw ya in this cute lil skirt and just about lost my mind."

"I've noticed," you say drily. Soshiro's hands inch higher, teasing the edge of your panties, brushing your hip bones beneath the fabric. "You barely even kissed me, you know."

"But look at this," he mutters. Rough fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you yelp as he drags your legs further apart. His breaths are warm against the soaked cotton as you sink closer and you can't help clenching in anticipation. "Ya still got all wet for me. So pretty."

You moan as he digs in, as he tugs your panties aside with a finger and drags his tongue through your soaked folds. Your legs weaken against your will, dropping you further onto his face as he groans and bumps your aching clit with his nose. Oh, god.

"Fuck me," you bite out, hips jerking forward.

Soshiro nips your thigh and you hiss, fingers clenching around your skirt. He chuckles into your pussy, red eyes gleaming a moment before he drags you forward, pressing more of your weight onto his face. Pleasure spikes as he groans, tongue digging in sloppily, each swipe feeding the growing ache in your center. Spit and your juices drip down his chin but he doesn't care — nothing else matters but your choked off whines.

Fuck, you sound so hot.

Soshiro wants more. He wants you aching and desperate, he wants you riding his face until you cum with that cute little cry that never fails to make his blood run hotter. Sometimes, if he works hard enough, you lose yourself and say his name.

Sometimes he makes you cry.

Not this time, though — you're clearly enjoying yourself, moaning as if you've forgotten this storage room isn't that far off the main walkways, but Soshiro doesn't mind. Everyone knows the Vice Captain's got eyes on you, and no matter how much you protest, the fact remains that he's the only one who gets to see you like this.

"H-Hoshina," you suck in a heaving breath, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue. He moans into your pussy and watches your lashes flutter at the feeling. "I'm — 'm getting close."

There's sweat beading along his temples and sliding into his hair. Soshiro moans again as your taste floods his tongue. Fuck, you look so pretty sitting on his face like this, with one hand keeping your skirt out of the way while you grope your chest with the other. His own hips twitch as you pinch your nipple through your shirt, the peaked nub poking through the fabric as you squeeze mercilessly.

Soshiro keeps his tongue stiff, bumping against your clit with every desperate grind of your hips. You hiss when he slides a finger into your tight, wet heat, prodding your insides until he nudges that spot that sets you on fire.

"Fuck — fuck, H-Hoshina, 'm gonna cum —!"

Heat lights up your veins as he sucks on your clit, digging his finger into that spongy spot inside you, his other hand firm on your hip as he forces you to grind on his face. God, you're so — he's so —

Soshiro moans and he looks so dazed, hazy eyes drinking in your every move. You're the only one who sees him like this — the powerful Vice Captain of the Third Division, reduced to a sweaty fucked out mess, just from eating you out. The thought makes you whimper, the ache in your core intensifying.

You whine loudly when he pulls back a little, the loss of suction terrifying as you spiral closer. Your free hand drops from your breast to his hair, tangling in the damp purple strands and tugging harshly. He grunts.

"Cum for me," Soshiro rasps out, sliding another finger into you. "Cum all over my fuckin' face."

He sucks your clit between his lips again, and it's — you're —

Shattering, splintering into fractures of light —

"Fuck, Soshiro — nghh —"

Soshiro doesn't let up, fingers digging in as you squeeze them in a vice grip, warmth gushing down his chin as he flattens his tongue and dips in to lick up every last drop.

He's so fucking hard right now it hurts, but he keeps licking your soft folds, his own hips twitching as he tries to find some relief from the fabric of his pants. You tug on his hair again and a whine slips out his throat, but you're smiling, breathless and glowing and so fucking pretty.

"Soshiro, c'mon, please —"

His teeth snag your panties and you giggle as he drags them off your legs. You wobble into a standing position and Soshiro wipes his fingers clean on your panties before tucking them into his back pocket, scrambling onto his knees and shoving his hair out of his face.

You drop down to kiss him, moaning at the taste of yourself as he touches you — hands gripping your hips and gliding up to grope your tits. Your fingers drag down his chest and fumble with his belt buckle as he laughs into the kiss.

"Want you inside," you breathe. "Want you to fill me up, Soshiro."

He groans and kisses you hard, hips bucking into your touch as you finally get his pants undone. Your hand is soft and warm as you grip his cock, squeezing the tip and smearing precum along the shaft. "Hands and knees, darlin' — 'm not gonna last."

You scramble into position on top of his jacket and flip your skirt up, exposing your bare ass and peeking over your shoulder as your blush deepens. "Please, Soshiro."

He lines himself up with a hiss as your juices coat the tip of his cock. You squirm at the feeling, nudging your hips back until the head slips in. Both of you moan — your breaths shuddering at the stretch, his chest seizing as your tight, wet heat sucks him in.

You feel — like heaven, like hell — he slides home, a rough noise punching out of his throat. Fucking — Soshiro pulls back and carefully pushes in, trying not to cum as your ass jiggles with the movement.

You whine and clench around him, and — he snaps.

Rough, desperate strokes, hips slamming into your welcoming heat. Soshiro nearly loses his mind when you push back against him, meeting him with every thrust. He holds onto your hips, hard enough to bruise.

Fucking — hell —

He leans forward and you sob at the change in angle, nearly collapsing onto your elbows as he hits that spot that makes you gush. Soshiro brushes his lips along the back of your neck, reaches around to fumble clumsily at your clit.

"So-Soshiro," you moan and god, you sound wrecked.

You do collapse forward as you cum with a cry, your spine arching beautifully. Soshiro lasts two more short, desperate strokes as you squeeze him tight, hips twitching as he unloads thick, hot streaks of cum deep into your pussy.

He grunts, teeth clamping down on your shoulder, white hot fire racing through his veins as his mind goes blank.

You moan weakly at the feeling, pussy fluttering around him. "You bit me," you gasp out breathlessly.

Soshiro presses a kiss to the mark in silent apology, but he's winded. "You're too cute."

The storage room is filled with your synced breathing as the two of you get yourselves under control. Soshiro nuzzles into your neck, lips skimming along smooth skin as he nudges your sweat soaked hair aside. He keeps his hands firm on your hips, holding you close.

You make a soft sound when he finally pulls out, rolling onto your back and immediately squeezing your legs together. Soshiro wipes off his cock with your ruined panties and tucks himself back into his pants, raising an eyebrow when you frown at him bashfully.

"I need those," you mumble.

"Ain't we goin' back to your room anyway?"

Your brow furrows. "Who says?"

"You're not gonna make it very far without your panties," Soshiro points out, crawling over you and kissing the tip of your nose. You wrinkle it cutely. "I'm off duty. Let's hang out."

You tip your chin up to kiss him properly, sweet and slow and languid. Soshiro's heart aches. "Fine," you murmur, "but only because I'm sleepy now."

Soshiro will take whatever he can get. He helps you stand, snickering when you wobble and dig your nails into his arm in retaliation. You don't seem to notice how much you're leaning into him as he bundles his dirty jacket under his other arm. "Didja want dinner?"

"Mm, no," you say. "Your cum is going to drip out if we don't hurry up."

"Alright, darlin'," he says. "Hey, that was pretty nice, right?"

The shimmery afternoon light lends a haze to the grounds as the two of you walk towards your building. Soshiro glances at you — you're glowing and just so pretty. He shoots you a lopsided smirk when you roll your eyes at him.

"Yes, it was nice."

Soshiro's grin softens and he presses a kiss to your temple. "Don't worry. I'll show ya how nice I can be."

[nayedoll]

ik wil je

joost klein x reader

summary : your crush on joost doesn’t seem so unrealistic after he dedicates one of his songs to you at his concert.

warnings : fluff, a bit suggestive towards the end but nothing crazy

a/n : some parts written in dutch may not be correct since i don’t speak dutch so im sorry in case there r any mistakes. 😞

rpf ahead, do not read if uncomfortable !!!

───────────────────────

“When is he coming on stage?” your friend, Jenna, asked as you both entered the venue where Joost’s concert was being held at.

“In two hours I think,” you answered, raising your voice a bit to be heard over the loud talking from the people around you. Jenna groaned, already feeling tired at the thought of waiting for so long.

“I cannot believe you convinced me to come this early to a concert just because you have a crush on this dude,” she rolled her eyes, earning a laugh from you.

“Who said I have a crush on him?” you teased her, both of you knowing that Joost’s music wasn’t the only thing you liked about him. You had discovered Joost through some friends shortly after having moved to Amsterdam to study abroad. The blonde artist had charmed you since the beginning and it wasn’t long before you found yourself having a little crush on him, one that you deemed as silly and would never act upon.

Although you knew there was no chance of him ever being romantically involved with you, in the back of your mind, there was still a hidden hope for something to happen at the concert. However, you would never try to initiate anything yourself and risk making him uncomfortable by doing so.

“Well if we’re gonna stand for two hours, we should at least try and get to the front,” Jenna suggested, took your hand and led you through the crowd at the arena, the air immediately becoming hotter as you pushed through the sweaty bodies of people.

Your decision to come earlier was proven to have paid off, seeing as there weren’t too many people at the venue yet. Eventually, you noticed an empty spot at the front with a direct view of the stage and walked there in a hurry to claim it for yourself and Jenna.

The stage was relatively small, with a big screen in the background that read joost klein on it. The strobe lights illuminated the room in various colors and you squeaked in excitement as you turned to face your friend, squeezing her arm.

“So what’s your plan now?” Jenna asked, her eyes scanning you up and down in a smirk. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by her smug expression.

“My plan? Enjoy the concert I guess,” you scoffed and watched as disappointment took over her face. “What?” you exclaimed and lightly patted her shoulder.

“This is the hottest you’ve ever looked and you’re just going to enjoy the concert?” she mocked you in a coy tone. You bit back a smile. Jenna read you like an open book, being able to see right through your intentions to catch Joost’s attention with your outfit.

“Well, what do you want me to do? Go up there and fuck him?” you said as Jenna’s face lit up at your words.

“Well I don’t think he’d mind that,” she shrugged her shoulders and you playfully slapped her shoulder again, shushing her.

You two chatted as you waited, the venue growing more crowded by the minute and drowning out your nervous thoughts. After what was approximately two and a half hours, the lights finally stopped switching colors and settled on a purple hue, signaling that Joost was about to go on stage.

The familiar intro of Joost’s song, droom groot started playing, resulting in people screaming in anticipation. As Joost came out, dressed in a white button up and long black trousers, the screams only grew louder. You felt your pulse racing, your heartbeat becoming even louder than the bass ringing in your ears.

“Hallo Amsterdam,” Joost yelled into the microphone and scanned the crowd in a smile before his eyes lingered on yours. You felt Jenna’s hand playfully push you and quickly turned to look at her as she mouthed told you with a smug smile.

The rest of the concert went by normally with people dancing and screaming the lyrics to Joost’s songs. In spite of your wishes, Joost didn’t interact with you much, other than shooting continuous glances in your direction. You didn’t think much of them though, seeing as he was also interacting a lot with other people at the front.

“Dus dit volgende nummer,” (so this next song) Joost began saying and the crowd quieted down, “is een beetje anders,” (is a bit different). He suddenly looked much more nervous, his hands slightly fidgeting with his sweaty hair.

“Het is romantischer denk ik,” (it’s more romantic i guess) he chuckled and some people started cheering, you and Jenna included. “Oké hier gaan we.” (okay here we go). The audience erupted into screaming as you recognized the song to be ik wil je - one of your personal favorites of his.

You danced along to the song, putting one arm around Jenna as you noticed people hugging and jumping up and down to the beat. The atmosphere was electric and it saddened you that you would have to leave soon and return to everyday responsibilities.

It seemed like you were too caught up in the moment to notice Joost running to your direction with a smug smile. You gasped as he grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers firmly with yours. He began singing the chorus of the song, his blue eyes piercing your face that was burning hot by that point.

“Ik wil je, blijf bij me, hou van me, ga nooit meer weg” were the only things you could hear, too focused on Joost to notice all the screams around you. You smiled at him while yelling the lyrics, the immense chemistry between the two of you obvious to everyone in the room.

The moment ended as quickly as it started as Joost let go of your hand reluctantly and backed away, breaking eye contact. Jenna shook you, bringing you back to reality and you realized only then how shaky your legs had become.

“Dude, what the fuck?” she said in a low tone as the music stopped and all you could do was shrug your shoulders and laugh in disbelief.

The concert soon came to an end as more people gradually started leaving the venue, you and Jenna being the last ones to exit the building. You were constantly checking your surroundings in hopes of spotting Joost somewhere, anywhere but to no avail. Jenna breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling of the fresh night air as you both stepped outside.

“Wanna go for drinks?” she suggested and you nodded quietly, letting her lead the way. You ended up at a small bar, a few minutes away from the venue and sat at a table near the window that showed the glistening streets, busy with cars and people passing by.

“You know you’re stupid for not getting his number, right,” Jenna broke the silence, taking a shot of her drink.

“What was I supposed to do, jump on stage?” you protested, rubbing your fingers anxiously. In all seriousness, you were bitter about what had happened earlier, mentally slapping yourself as you realized that you could, should, have pursued Joost more. But then again, if Joost was truly into you, he surely would have tried to make a move on you after the concert, right? Disappointment took over you at the realization that this was most likely some act with the sole purpose of the show, or maybe even a silly dare from his friends.

Jenna sensed your frustration and reached for your hand over the table. “Hey,” she smiled, “He’s just some guy after all, don’t forget that!” You chuckled and gave her a nod, taking a sip of your drink in an attempt to shake off the sad state you were in.

A couple of minutes passed in which you managed to have fun, letting Jenna be the speaker. Your attention on her was soon captured by the glass door opening and five tall men coming in. Your eyes widened as you recognized the last man to be Joost and Jenna seemed to notice, glancing back to see what had caused your reaction.

“No fucking way,” she exclaimed and you hushed her, burying your face in your hands.

As you lifted your head again, you were met with Joost looking directly at you, seemingly shocked as well. His friends caught on to his gaze and shared a knowing smile before one of them started singing what sounded like the words to ik wil je, teasing Joost, who let out a shy laugh. You lowered your gaze, fighting back a grin and heard Joost mumble shut up followed by a couple of laughs.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Jenna announced somewhat loudly, grabbed her purse and headed for the door, not before winking at you. Joost’s eyes flickered awkwardly between you and his friends, who had already taken a seat without him noticing. You nodded at the empty chair across from you, encouraging him to approach you, which he gladly did.

“Hey,” he smiled as he sat down, the orange light that emitted from the small lamp on the table making his dimples all the more visible. He gave you a handshake and you got chills at the familiar warmth of his big palm against yours - for the second time that night.

“Hi,” you breathed before properly introducing yourself to him.

“Pretty name,” he noted and you thanked him, your eyes never leaving his. He looked slightly different than before, wearing the same pants but with a black hoodie on top. His blonde hair wasn’t as messy anymore and a pair of glasses now covered his eyes, making him even prettier.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, switching topics.

“Yeah me neither,” Joost replied, “But I guess things happen for a reason, don’t they?” he grinned and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I looked for you after the concert ended but I just guessed you left in a hurry,” he went on to explain. You wet your lips in an attempt to hide your smile and your delight at the confirmation that he had in fact looked for you.

“Yeah, sorry about that,”

“What are you sorry for?” he asked, laughing.

“I should have searched for you as well but I just left,” you said apologetically, “Doesn’t that make me kind of an asshole?”

“A bit,” Joost answered, you scoffed at his bluntness and hit him playfully on his arm. “But you can always make up for it,” You raised your eyebrows at his smug expression, curious as to what he was insinuating.

“How?” you smirked, rubbing your legs together under the table to cool off the sudden rush of heat you got. Even if his initial comment wasn’t suggestive, the idea had still entered your mind as newfound desires emerged, that didn’t seem so unrealistic anymore.

“You’ll have to find out lieverd,” he said all too casually as a small chuckle left your lips.

Just then, your phone vibrated with a message from Jenna, informing you that her boyfriend would be picking her up and wishing you a fun night. You texted her back quickly, something about how lucky you were to have her as a friend and that you owe her, before setting your phone down and looking at Joost who questioned the excitement in your face.

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked him with as much confidence as possible, he nodded eagerly. His excitement only grew when he watched you get up from your seat and fix your already short skirt.

This was the first time you were both directly standing next to each other, finally noticing how much taller he was compared to you. You waited by the door for him while he briefly spoke to his friends, who seemed to cheer him on in a bad attempt at remaining quiet.

As you exited the bar, you winced at the cold air against your bare thighs, regretting your decision to wear a leather jacket instead of a long warm coat.

“I have a car, let’s go,” you held Joost’s hand and quickly walked with him to the direction of your car.

“Didn’t know you could drive,” Joost grinned.

“I can do a lot of things,” you responded.

“We’ll see about that.”

-

On the way to your place, Joost’s hand rested on your exposed thigh as you talked about various things, genuinely enjoying the company of one another. He drew small circles on your skin every now and then, the tingling sensation sending shivers down your spine.

After what felt like hours, you finally reached your place and got out of the car. You were struggling to find the right key to open the door when Joost came up behind you and stole your attention.

“Ik wil je, blijf bij me” he began singing, his voice just a bit louder than a whisper. He approached you, his arms holding your waist closer as he made you dance along to the rhythm.

“Hou van me, ga nooit meer weg”. The last words were hardly heard as Joost closed the distance between you and locked his lips with yours in a slow kiss. You kissed back almost immediately, the taste of cigarettes and liquor becoming clearer in your mouth as he deepened the kiss. He lowered his hands to your ass, caressing the area over the thin fabric of your skirt. Meanwhile, you played with his hair, gently running your fingers through his blonde locks. You felt his glasses softly press against your face, which confirmed that this was reality, that he was actually there, kissing you the way that he did.

You drew back, allowing yourself to breathe. His face was flushed, lips glistening with your lip gloss and his hair looked messy as he stared down at you with desperation.

“I should have taken you on a date first.” Joost admitted, letting out a small chuckle.

“That can be arranged for another time.” You kissed his lips softly before finally unlocking the door and dragging him inside by his shirt, excited for what the night would bring.

[lovings4turn]

becca, my love. i saw that your blurb requests are open, so can i request oscar with "taking off their makeup when they're too tired"? thank you!

ᯓ★  𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 — 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

ahhh nora lovely thank you sm for sending this in !!! adore writing for oscar so thank you for giving me the opportunity to 🤭🤭 this ended up being longer than i expected but what can i say i got carried away !!! hope you like this lovely

indistinct dialogue washes over you as your ears tune in to the sound of oscar’s heartbeat, the sound much more preferable to the drama of the characters currently on the screen in front of you. 

curled against your boyfriend’s chest, the glow of the television washing over you both and bathing you in a fuzzy, low light, you find it hard to keep your eyes open for longer than a minute at a time. 

oscar is just so warm, the fabric of his hoodie against your skin so soft, and you had woken up disgustingly early that morning for an eight am class that preceded a long study session at the library. so, it’s no surprise that your exhaustion is quickly catching up to you, a lion stalking its prey.

since his gaze has been resting on you rather than the random sit-com for the past ten minutes, oscar is quick to notice the drowsiness consuming your features. 

“let’s get you to bed, eh?” oscar asks, patting your side twice with the tips of his fingers to prompt you to stand.

“i’m not even that tired,” you protest, words coming out in a low whine thanks to your desperation to remain in the warm embrace of oscar’s arms.

“tell that to your eyes, sweetheart. they’re practically closed.”

almost on cue, you lift your hand to rub at your tired eyes before you stop abruptly, loose fist hovering just in front of your face. a frustrated noise escapes you, and your head falls back against oscar’s chest at the realisation.

“i still have to take my makeup off.”

oscar fixes you with a look of amused pity. though he’s clearly sympathetic to your plight, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your theatrics somewhat entertaining.

strong arms wrap around your waist, and oscar gently helps you to your feet, sending you off to bed with the promise that he’ll be right behind you.

curiosity picks at your mind, but you’re far too tired to argue or ask questions. your body operates on autopilot as it leads you down the hall to your bedroom, and you flop down onto the soft mattress without hesitation.

never had you been more thankful at oscar’s insistence that you wear his clothes as much as possible: already dressed in one of his old t-shirts and some pyjama shorts, getting changed into something cosier was not a problem you would have to tackle tonight.

oscar appears a few minutes later, and it seems that he’s brought the entirety of your skincare shelf with him. countless bottles and tubs are piled up in his arms, threatening to spill over as he fumbles towards the bed. 

with furrowed brows, oscar drops the bundle of products onto your comforter and lets out a breath, beginning to survey the many different items sitting in front of him. “right then, let’s see,” he mumbles, picking up one product at a time and scanning the labels with such an intensity that, had you the energy, you would have teased him for.

“moisturiser, no. facial scrub, no. hyaluronic aci- what even is this stuff?”

you can’t help it. a laugh bubbles up in your throat, and though your eyes are heavy with sleep, oscar can see the way that the crinkle slightly at the intensity of your smile.

as fun as it is to listen to oscar grow increasingly confused with each skincare product he scrutinises, you decide it’s best to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “purple bottle, babe. might wanna grab some cotton pads, too. next to where you grabbed everything else from.”

oscar follows your instructions instantly, setting your makeup remover off to the side before he scoops the other products up into his arms once more, heading to return them to their rightful home in your bathroom. he soon returns triumphant, holding up the packet of cotton pads in his left hand as though it’s one of his racing trophies.

idiot, you think fondly.

soon, he’s sitting beside you, tilting your face upwards towards him with two fingers. the movement is tender, and you can’t help but lean forward to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

with a level of care you imagine someone would reserve for a newborn, oscar begins to swipe away at your makeup, putting a lot of effort into not tugging at your skin.

every so often, he speaks, questions of “feel alright?” and “not hurting you, am i?” filling the otherwise peaceful silence.��

each time your answer is the same: a slight shake of the head with a reassuring hum. you’re convinced that oscar could never be anything but tender with you, and this only adds to your hypothesis. 

a few seconds pass, and you can no longer feel oscar wiping at your face. your eyes flutter open, greeted by the sight of oscar admiring you with an adoring expression.

a light flush dusts the top of his cheekbones, and his lips are pulled up into a foolish, love-sick grin. he doesn’t shy away when he realises he’s been caught, only moves to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “now,” he starts, voice playful. “wanna tell me what the next step is, babe?”

[ma1dita]

when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a Ra's Al Ghul x eldest son reader, where the reader is being courted by Ra's and the Batfamily's reactions to seeing their brother receiving gifts from Ra's

Okay, I have screamed when I got this. If anybody wants me to write about Ra's, when I open my requests, please do send them. Pretty please. I just love Ra's. Also, 2.8k words! My fingers hurt, but I love it.

Summary: Ra's is courting (Y/N). (Y/N) really doesn't know how to feel.

Warnings: Ra's is sending gifts to (Y/N), Bruce is protective, everyone is protective, implications of smut, stalking(?), Ra's is a gentleman, dinner, first date, Alfred has a shotgun ready for Ra's

(Y/N) has known Ra's for a very long time. A little over 11 years now. Ra's has in a way see him grow up from being a little Robin, a little, defenseless child to a brave vigilante by the name of (V/N). He had, alongside his family had run ins with Ra's.

Ra's has tried to kill him a few times, tried to destroy Gotham City just to cleanse it again, kidnapped (Y/N) once to try to brainwash him and has an unhealthy obsession with Bruce being his heir.

He has heard it in many of his monologues through the years. It made Alfred roll his eyes and just cock his shotgun in response. It was a scary sight once, when (Y/N) was just a teen. (Y/N) knew that Alfred doesn't have a no kill rule like Bruce.

Somehow, Alfred is now the main rival of the infamous Ra's al Ghul. Over Bruce. At first, (Y/N) was concerned for his grandpa, but Alfred assured him that nothing will happen to him.

Now, (Y/N) has just started college, paid for by Bruce who made a college fund when he adopted (Y/N) officially. (Y/N) cried when he got accepted and then told that it was paid.

He still lived at home while he was looking for a job to work while in college and to get his own place and officially move out of the manor and be independent. Bruce advised him to save all of that money and use it when he starts officially working after college and to get a head start on his future apartment.

But for some reason, (Y/N) has seemed to forgotten about Ra's. He has been quiet and the family's attention was always on Gotham rouges for the last year so Ra's was not even on his mind at his point. But it has all changed one random day.

(Y/N) walked through the doors of the manor, tired from working. He took his shoes off and quickly went to the kitchen where his family was seated, looking confused, worried and angry. (Y/N) was confused and Bruce quickly walked over to his son, shielding him from the kitchen.

" Hey (Y/N), how was work? "Bruce asked and (Y/N) just raised a brow. He wasn't fooled with anything that they were trying to pull. He is an adult, not a child.

" Bruce, you know I love you, but whatever it is, I can handle it. " (Y/N) said, crossing his arms. Bruce wanted to sigh, but choose not to. He stepped aside to let (Y/N) see what was the fuss about.

He stopped when he saw flowers, a big bouquet light purple flowers. The boys stepped aside too, letting him look at the flowers. (Y/N) leaned forward, sniffing them. They were fresh, that much was obvious and they were safe to come close to them.

(Y/N) noticed a small card on the kitchen island next to it. The little card was emerald green with his name written over it in beautiful golden cursive letters. (Y/N) got an uneasy feeling, but still took the card to read through his contents.

To my (Y/N),

A sign of my love and courtship,

and a perfect gift for an elegant and dainty person.

Yours, Ra's al Ghul.

(Y/N) blinked a few times before opening his mouth, but he closed it quickly. Is this a game? A psychological trick for (Y/N) to let his guard down?

Ra's al Ghul is everything but a liar, but that doesn't mean that he won't trick you into a false sense of security.

" What the hell is this? " (Y/N) asked, turning to his family. Bruce wanted to say something, but he didn't know what.

" We don't know. It has been here when we all came back. " Damian said and he looked disturbed. He walked over to (Y/N) to hug him and (Y/N) wrapped his arms around him.

" Damian, don't take this the wrong way, but your grandfather is nuts." (Y/N) said, looking back at the card.

" These are called Asteria. They are meant for expressing the love in subtle ways. " Damian said, just hugging his older brother a bit tighter.

" Well, that is nice to know. " (Y/N) said and Jason looked outright disturbed.

" Whatever it is, I don't like it. " Tim and Dick agreed with him, voicing their agreements with their own opinions.

" Master (Y/N), I always have a shotgun ready in case of an emergencies. " Alfred said and (Y/N) chuckled at that.

" I will keep that in mind Alfred. " (Y/N) said and Bruce sighed quietly.

" I don't think I need to tell you to stay more vigilant... And I need to upgrade our security system. How do they keep breaking in? " Bruce wondered and Alfred just glanced towards the pantry.

His beloved shotgun is always ready.

" Al Ghuls can break in anywhere. " (Y/N) said, glancing at Damian with a smile on his face, trying to show Damian that he wasn't mad at him. Damian just sighed quietly, hugging his brother tightly.

" Okay, when we are out somewhere one of us will escort you. Same goes for patrol. "

(Y/N) sighed, shaking his head. " Bruce, I don't need bodyguards. " (Y/N) protested, but Bruce shook his head. " (Y/N)- "

" I can be with him father! " Damian chimed in and (Y/N) nearly gave in an urge to coo at him. Nearly.

" Dames, my baby brother, I love you, but you have school. " (Y/N) explained and then turned back to Bruce.

" I'm not having anybody tag me. " (Y/N) stated firmly.

" Okay, how about a compromise? " Bruce suggested and (Y/N) nodded, waiting for the proposition.

" You can switch to online classes until we figure it out. " Bruce said and (Y/N) shook his head.

" No. I won't stop my life because of him. " (Y/N) said and Bruce knows that there won't be a compromise with him.

" Just promise me you will be careful then. " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded.

" If you need me too, I can drive you to college. " Jason chimed in.

" I can drive you back. " Dick added.

" And I can make sure that your phone is impossible to track. " Tim said and (Y/N) nodded.

" And I can give my blades. " Damian said and (Y/N) now cooed at Damian.

" Oh my sweet dear Dames, I knew you loved me. " (Y/N) joked and Damian grumbled something before letting go of (Y/N).

" I tolerate you at best. " Damian grumbled and (Y/N) smiled at his brother.

The next thing that has happened was a very expensive looking suit made in his measurements and in Ra's signature color, emerald. It was hanging in his room and (Y/N) simply went to Alfred who took his beloved shotgun to clear the manor.

The others were quick to ditch work or school and came home. Bruce closed off (Y/N)'s room as a crime scene and Tim quickly went down to scan the cameras. Alfred made some tea for (Y/N) who was a little bit shaken up.

He still held on his shotgun, watching his oldest grandson like a hawk. (Y/N) was shaken up because his room, his space, was defiled in a way. Sure, he didn't look for anything specific, he just left the suit, but it still felt like he has been defiled. It's the sanctity of the room.

" How are they breaking in? " Jason asked as he walked in from the garden. He scoured the area around the mansion. He didn't like this at all.

" Master Jason, they are Al Ghuls, they can break in into almost everything. " Dick said from the outside as he was still searching for clues.

" This is insane. " Damian admitted, walking in with a tablet in his hands. " Nothing on the footage. " Damian said, putting the tablet down.

(Y/N) took a sip of his tea, trying to not really think about this.

" Was anybody at home? " (Y/N) asked and they all shook their heads. (Y/N) sighed quietly.

" He has to monitor us then. " (Y/N) said and Jason clicked his tongue.

" More like he monitors you. " Jason said, making Dick smack him at the back of his head.

" Hey! "

" Don't make the situation worse. " Dick said and Jason grumbled something that (Y/N) couldn't make out.

" He is getting ballsy. " (Y/N) muttered and Alfred nodded, shotgun still in his hold. (Y/N) glanced at Alfred who was holding the shotgun over his shoulders, looking like cowboy.

" How long will you hold on? " (Y/N) asked Alfred who just shrugged.

" Until master Bruce clears your room. And until we know what the old bastard wants. "

Just the person that Alfred mentioned walked in.

" No sign of a break in, I scanned for any type of drugs, there are none, no listening devices and that's about it. " Bruce said, rubbing his face. What does Ra's want with his son?

" When he comes to Gotham, I'm going to maim him. " Bruce growled out and (Y/N) knew that it was just a matter of time when Ra's came. The others are aware of it too.

(Y/N) won't be going on patrol alone anymore.

The day when Ra's came to Gotham came about a week later. (Y/N) finished everything he needed for the day and was walking down the college stone stairs. He went to the parking lot to get his car, but stopped when he saw Ra's standing next to his car.

He looked great as always. A dark green suit, similar to the one he sent to (Y/N), a few rings on his fingers. He smirked in his usual way when he saw (Y/N). (Y/N) just clicked his tongue in annoyance.

" Ra's... "

" Did you like my gifts? I have one more on the way. " Ra's said, walking closer. (Y/N) stood still, allowing Ra's to walk closer to him. My God, Ra's since when did Ra's become so good looking? Wait... What the actual fuck is happening? Why is he thinking that way?!

" I don't know what you are playing at, but all of this has to stop. " (Y/N) said and Ra's tilted his head.

" I know you still have the flowers and I know you have the suit I have sent you. If you really wanted me to stop, you would make a point to burn them habibi. " Ra's said ever so smoothly, using the pet name. (Y/N) knows a good amount of Arabic thanks to Damian and he blushed.

" Ra's, it's wrong. I have known you since I was 8. It's fucking wrong. " (Y/N) tried and Ra's shook his head with an amused smile.

" I can see you don't really mean it. And why not give it a chance? You know I pick my partners carefully. I know you very well and I know you are strong. I want a strong partner and I know you can be that. "

" This isn't a ploy to make Bruce or Damian take over the League? " (Y/N) asked and Ra's shook his head.

" It's not a ploy habibi. " Ra's started, something shining in his eyes. (Y/N) saw the sheer sincerity and honesty behind the eyes. Those two qualities are often replaced with coldness.

" Ra's- "

" How about we give it a chance? I promise you we will be in Gotham and won't leave the city at all. " Ra's said, now in (Y/N)'s personal space, taking his hands into his, still looking into his eyes. (Y/N) swallowed as he looked down at their hands. He knows that he should say no to these feelings that started surfacing during the week.

He should say no.

" Okay. I will give it a chance. " (Y/N) said and Ra's smiled. (Y/N) looked up to see a sincere smile, the one that gave him wrinkles around his eyes.

" Can I kiss your cheek? " Ra's asked and (Y/N) nodded, not trusting his voice right now.

Ra's kissed his cheek so gently that (Y/N) wouldn't believe that he is an assassin.

" I will see you tonight habibi. Wear the suit I sent you for tonight. I will pick you up at 6. " Ra's said, glancing behind (Y/N)'s shoulder. (Y/N) turned around where his dad was and he seemed pissed.

Ra's was already gone and (Y/N) knows he will hear no end of it.

Nobody could stop him from going on the date. Damian was conflicted, but if it made (Y/N) happy, then sure. But he will go after his grandfather if he hurts him.

The rest of the family tried to get him to stay home, but (Y/N) said that he will go. Alfred said that if he gets hurt, Ra's will be dead by sunrise and won't be able to come back to life with the pit.

The others tried to agree with Alfred and Damian, but they couldn't. But they had to trust (Y/N)'s decision. And who knows? Maybe it will be a... Well, it will at least be a better story than Twilight.

And if Ra's is serious, Bruce will be make sure to test him. Damian too. Alfred will be ready with his shotgun. He has been dropping bodies for years before becoming a butler.

He is not afraid.

(Y/N) was picked up by Ra's at 6 pm on the dot. The ride was filled with a nice conversation and a lot of compliments from Ra's. The restaurant that Ra's choose was extremely fancy and (Y/N) knows that the food is good here.

The dinner was the best dinner that (Y/N) has ever had. The date went well too. Ra's and (Y/N) had a conversation about everything that came to mind and they didn't even touch on their... Other jobs, well, a better phrase would be their other sides.

(Y/N) loved it and then, Ra's took him to the hotel where he was staying. It was a penthouse, how could it not be? Then they kissed officially and then passion overtook them both.

(Y/N) opened his eyes, gently rubbing his eyes. He turned around and he didn't see Ra's next to him. He was alone in bed. Where is Ra's? He was wearing boxers and he was covered in love bites. Ra's saw how tactile he is during sex and would he leave him?

He tried to get up, but his hips were hurting. He hissed as he laid back down. He didn't want to strain himself.

After a minute, the door opened and Ra's entered with bags. He smiled when he saw that (Y/N) was awake.

" Good morning habibi. I just went to get us breakfast from your favorite place. " He said, sitting down next to him with the bags, showing him what he bought.

All of (Y/N)'s favorite things.

" Thanks. " (Y/N) said and Ra's saw something in (Y/N)'s demeanor.

" Did you think I really left you all alone without a reason? Oh habibi. " Ra's crooned at him, kissing him softly with a smile.

After they separated, (Y/N) sat up straight and started eating. It was nice and after they ate, Ra's cleaned up and laid back down with (Y/N). (Y/N) still remembers last night.

How Ra's treated him gently, kissing him gently, making sure that he gelt good throughout... And the aftercare was something that (Y/N) didn't believe that Ra's knew. He was cleaned up in the shower, then Ra's helped him with putting his underwear on and then led him to the bed where he embraced him tightly.

" So (Y/N), what do you think? " Ra's asked, hands gently caressing his body in a nonsexual way.

" I think I would like a second date. " (Y/N) said, nuzzling Ra's neck.

" And your family is okay with this? "

" Oh not really, but they trust me and if you hurt me, there will be hell to pay. " (Y/N) said, closing his eyes.

" Are you still tired? " Ra's asked and (Y/N) hummed in agreement. Ra's adjusted and (Y/N) fell asleep quickly. Ra's didn't fall asleep, instead he just watched (Y/N) and his face.

He didn't know when his feelings started for him, but he wanted to do this properly. If he did anything against (Y/N), Bruce would be there to destroy the League and Alfred would kill him.

He had no doubt about it.

But he didn't have any plans to hurt (Y/N). He will make sure to show (Y/N) that he genuinely loves him and that this is not a ploy for any of his schemes.

[dandelions-143]

Exile

Changbin Masterlist

All member Masterlist

AN: Sorry I’ve been MIA! I’ve had horrible writers block. Also sorry if this isn’t up to my usual standards. I’m slowly clawing my way out of this damned block. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing:Non-idol,bad boy Changbinxidol/Celebrity Y/n

Word Count: 3,250k

Warnings: this one’s pretty tame (for now) MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Emotional manipulation, Heartbreak and relationship struggles, Implied violence, Alcohol consumption (setting in a bar), Unwanted advances/harassment, Mild physical violence, Intense emotions and confrontations, References to criminal activities

Summary: Y/n decided to end things with Changbin years ago to pursue her dreams. But what happens when she comes face to face with the man she left behind but could never forget?

You sat on the worn wooden steps of your childhood home's front porch, the familiar creaks beneath you a comforting reminder of countless summers past. The warm evening air caressed your skin, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from your mother's garden. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it painted the sky in a breathtaking array of colors - deep oranges melting into soft pinks and vibrant purples. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, savoring this moment of tranquility.

The peaceful scene was suddenly shattered by the distant roar of a motorcycle engine, growing louder with each passing second. Your eyes flew open, heart already beginning to race as you recognized the familiar sound. The old black Harley-Davidson - the very one you'd clung to Changbin on during countless midnight rides - came into view, its chrome accents glinting in the fading light.

Changbin smoothly brought the bike to a stop just a few feet away, the engine's rumble fading to a low purr before he cut it off completely. With practiced ease, he swung his leg over the seat and removed his helmet. Your breath caught in your throat as he shook out his dark hair, mussed from the ride. His eyes, deep and intense, found yours immediately. A smirk played on his lips as he approached, and you couldn't help but notice how his leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders, how his faded jeans clung to his muscular thighs.

"Hey, you," Changbin said, his voice warm and rich like honey. He reached for your hands, pulling you up from the steps and into his strong arms. The familiar scent of his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him - enveloped you. Your heart raced, squeezing tightly in your chest as he leaned in for a kiss. Despite every fiber of your being screaming to give in, to melt into his warm embrace, you turned your head at the last second, his lips grazing your cheek instead.

Confusion flickered across Changbin's handsome features as he pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your arms. "What's wrong, Y/n?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, knowing that if you did, your resolve might crumble entirely. Instead, you focused on a point just past his shoulder, swallowing hard against the lump forming in your throat.

"I'm leaving," you said quietly, the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "The company I auditioned for... they called. They want me as a trainee." You risked a glance at Changbin's face, watching as understanding dawned in his dark eyes. He knew how much this meant to you, how long you'd dreamed of becoming a singer. You'd spent countless nights talking about your aspirations, Changbin always your most ardent supporter.

For a moment, Changbin was silent, his eyes searching your face. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, processing this new information. Then, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, his expression softened into that easy smile you loved so much. "You got it?!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement. "Y/n, that's incredible!"

Unable to contain your own smile despite the heaviness in your heart, you nodded. Changbin pulled you into a tight hug, his strong arms enveloping you completely. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent as he whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Y/n. I always knew you could do it."

"Thank you," you murmured softly, your lips brushing against the warm skin of his neck. The moment was bittersweet, joy and sorrow intertwining in your chest. When Changbin moved to kiss you again, swept up in the excitement, you reluctantly stepped back. The hurt and confusion that flashed across his face made your heart ache.

"What's going on, Y/n?" Changbin asked, his voice soft but laced with growing concern. "Talk to me." You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you knew you had to say, even though they threatened to tear you apart.

"I think... I think it's best if we take a break, Changbin," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers unconsciously went to the promise ring on your left hand - the one he'd given you on your 16th birthday. The metal felt cold against your skin as you twisted it nervously. "Just for a while..."

Changbin's face fell, the joy from moments ago replaced by a look of utter devastation. "A break?" he repeated, as if saying the words aloud might change their meaning. "Y/n, we've been best friends since we were kids. We've been together for years. I don't understand..."

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you struggled to explain. "I can't ask you to wait for me, Changbin. To put your life on hold while I'm off chasing my dreams. It's not fair to either of us." Your voice cracked on the last word, betraying the emotions you were desperately trying to keep in check.

The silence that followed was deafening. You watched as Changbin's jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with a storm of emotions - hurt, anger, confusion, and something that looked dangerously close to heartbreak. The tension between you grew thick, suffocating, as you waited for him to say something, anything.

Finally, Changbin spoke, his voice low and strained. "Is this really what you want?" His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of pain and resignation evident in their depths. You felt your resolve wavering under the intensity of his gaze, but you knew you had to stay strong - for both your sakes.

"No," you admitted, shaking your head. "It's not what I want at all. But sometimes... sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. For the greater good." The words sounded hollow even to your own ears, but you pressed on. "We both need to focus on our dreams right now, Changbin. Without distractions."

Changbin's head dropped, his gaze fixed on the ground between you. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "What if my dream is you?" The raw vulnerability in his words made your heart clench painfully. You reached out, gently lifting his chin so his eyes met yours once more.

"Changbin, I..." you started, but the words caught in your throat as you saw the depth of emotion in his gaze. How could you explain that your dreams had always included him, that the thought of a future without him by your side felt incomplete? But you also knew that this opportunity was one you couldn't pass up, even if it meant sacrificing what you held most dear.

He took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. The tenderness of the gesture nearly broke you. "Please," Changbin said, his voice rough with emotion. "You know I don't beg, Y/n, but I love you so much. We can make this work. Long-distance, whatever it takes. I'll wait for you, I'll-“

The intensity of his words, the depth of his love, stirred something within you - a mixture of longing and frustration. You pulled your hand away, taking a step back to create some distance between you. "Changbin, please," you said, your voice cracking. "Please don't make this harder than it already is. We both know long-distance relationships rarely work, especially with the demands of being a trainee. I can't ask you to put your life on hold for me."

Changbin ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up in that way that always made him look irresistibly handsome. His face was a canvas of conflicting emotions - hurt, anger, and love all warring for dominance. He took a step towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. The air between you crackled with tension, a potent mixture of longing and the painful reality of your impending separation.

"But this isn't what you want," Changbin argued, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "You just said-"

"Changbin!" You cut him off, your own emotions finally bubbling to the surface. "I want you, but I want my dream more!" The words left your mouth before you could fully consider their impact, hanging in the air like a physical blow.

You watched as Changbin's expression hardened, his loving gaze turning cold as your words hit him. He stood there for a long moment, just watching you, his face becoming an unreadable mask. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and controlled, but you could hear the hurt and anger simmering beneath the surface.

"I hope your dream ends up being exactly what you wanted, Y/n," he said, each word carefully measured. His jaw clenched, and you could see the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. Without another word, Changbin turned on his heel, striding back to his motorcycle with purposeful steps.

The roar of the engine starting up felt like a physical blow. You wanted to call out to him, to take back your words and beg him to stay. But you remained rooted to the spot, watching as Changbin sped away, leaving you alone on the porch with nothing but the fading sound of his motorcycle and the weight of your words.

As his silhouette disappeared into the distance, the finality of the moment crashed over you. Tears that you had been holding back finally spilled over, running hot down your cheeks. You sank back onto the porch steps, your body shaking with silent sobs as the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. The promise ring on your finger felt impossibly heavy, a constant reminder of the love you were leaving behind in pursuit of your dreams.

🥀

SEVEN YEARS LATER

The neon lights of Seoul's bustling streets reflected off the gleaming chrome of Changbin's motorcycle as he weaved through the late-night traffic. The cool night air whipped against his face, a stark contrast to the heat of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had a job to do, a task given to him by Chan's father - to teach a lesson to someone who had dared to cross their organization.

Changbin's mind raced as he navigated the city, his thoughts a mix of anticipation for the job ahead and memories of how he'd ended up in this life. The years since you'd left had hardened him, transforming the once carefree teenager into a man accustomed to violence and danger. Being the muscle for Chan's father's organization had become second nature to him, each job a reminder of the path he'd chosen after his heart was broken.

As he approached the upscale hotel, its towering structure a beacon of luxury in the night, Changbin's expression settled into one of grim determination. He parked his motorcycle in a secluded corner of the lot, his eyes scanning the area with the practiced vigilance of someone who lived on the edge of the law. The weight of his leather jacket, a second skin after all these years, felt comforting as he adjusted it and ran a hand through his hair, mentally preparing for what lay ahead.

The hotel's opulent lobby was a stark contrast to the gritty world Changbin now inhabited. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over marble floors, and the air was heavy with the scent of expensive perfumes and polished wood. He moved with purpose, his presence drawing curious glances from the well-heeled patrons, unaware of the storm that was about to break in their midst.

The bar, tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the lower level, was Changbin's destination. The muted sounds of clinking glasses and hushed conversations grew louder as he descended the stairs. His eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the room, quickly identifying his target - a man whose hands were wandering too freely over an clearly uncomfortable young woman at the bar.

Changbin's jaw clenched, a mix of disgust at the man's behavior and a flicker of something else - a memory of a time when he would have defended you with the same fierce protectiveness. He strode forward, his presence commanding attention even before he reached the pair. Without hesitation, he gripped the back of the man's neck, his voice low and dangerous as he growled, "I believe she's not interested."

The man's eyes widened in recognition and fear, realizing too late the gravity of his situation. "Hey man," he stammered, hands raised in a futile gesture of innocence, "I just wanted to talk to her, I'm a huge fan of Y/n's."

At the mention of your name, Changbin's world tilted on its axis. His head snapped to the right, eyes locking with yours, and for a moment, time stood still. The years melted away, and he was once again the boy who had loved you with every fiber of his being. Recognition dawned on both your faces, a maelstrom of emotions - surprise, nostalgia, and unresolved feelings - crackling in the air between you.

The moment was shattered as quickly as it had formed. Changbin's anger, fueled by the shock of seeing you and the audacity of the man who had dared to touch you, surged back with renewed intensity. His grip on the man's neck tightened, eyes blazing with a fury that made even hardened criminals cower. "Wait, wait!" the man begged, his voice rising in panic, "Tell the boss I'm sorry, yeah?! I'll have his mo-"

Changbin's fist connected with the man's face before he could finish his plea, the sickening crack of bone echoing through the bar. The man crumpled to the floor, unconscious, as Changbin stood over him, chest heaving with exertion and barely contained rage. Every instinct screamed at him to continue, to unleash years of pent-up frustration and pain on this unfortunate soul, but he reined himself in, acutely aware of your presence and the line he couldn't afford to cross.

Slowly, he turned back to you, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. The years had changed him, sculpting the boy you once knew into a man of dangerous allure. His face, once soft with youth, was now chiseled and sharp, a hint of stubble adding to his rugged appeal. The lean teenager had been replaced by a man of solid muscle, his presence commanding and undeniably magnetic.

For a moment, you both stood frozen, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Changbin's intense gaze softened almost imperceptibly as he took in your appearance, noting how you'd changed yet remained achingly familiar. The silence stretched between you, filled with a potent mixture of tension and an undeniable spark of the connection you once shared.

“Changbin..” is all you could get past your lips. It’s like all the things you had ever wanted to say to him over the years just disappeared the moment you locked eyes with him. He looked as if he was going to say something but the moment was broken by the sound of security guards rushing into the bar. Changbin's eyes darted towards the entrance, his body tensing as he assessed the situation.

You instinctively stepped between Changbin and the guy lying passed out on the floor. “It took you guys long enough.” Your tone as spoiled and condescending as you could make it. “That guys assaulted me. If it wasn’t for this man here, god knows what would have happened!” you placed a soft hand on Chanbgins shoulder. The security guards looked taken aback by your sudden outburst, their eyes darting between you, Changbin, and the unconscious man on the floor. Changbin's expression remained impassive, but you could sense the tension radiating from him as he stood silently by your side. The head of security stepped forward, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation.

“Well?” You said with a bit of annoyance, “take him away!” The security guards exchanged glances before nodding and moving towards the unconscious man. As they hoisted him up and began to drag him away, you felt Changbin's muscles tense beneath your hand. You turned to face him, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation you both found yourselves in.

“Uh, thanks.” Changbin mumbled before heading towards the exit. His stride were wide and rushed. You watched him leave with a mixture of longing and frustration. Your mind raced, trying to decide whether to follow him or let him go. Before you could make a decision, you felt a hand on your arm. Turning, you saw your manager, her face a mask of concern and confusion. “You okay? Let’s get you back up to your room. You have a shoot tomorrow.”

You sighed softly and turned back towards the exit, your heart racing as you caught a glimpse of Changbin's retreating figure. Without thinking, you brushed off your manager's hand and took a step forward. "I'm sorry, I need to do something," you said hurriedly, your voice barely above a whisper. Before your manager could protest, you were already moving, your feet carrying you swiftly towards the bar's entrance.

“Changbin!” You called as you tried to catch up, pushing through the double doors out into the parking lot where you saw Changbin getting onto his motorcycle. “Binnie!! Hey!” Changbin paused, his hand on the motorcycle's handlebar, and turned to face you. His expression was a mix of surprise and something unreadable as you approached, slightly out of breath. The parking lot lights cast long shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles that time had carved into his features.

"Y/n, don't call me that. You lost that privilege years ago." His words cut through the air, sharp and cold. You flinched, feeling the weight of time and unresolved emotions between you. Changbin's eyes, once so warm and full of love, now held a guarded look that made your heart ache.

It took you a moment to get the words out but you pushed through, “I know.. I just wanted to give you this.” You took a few short steps towards him. Grabbing his hand that rested on the handlebar and dug in your small bag for a pen. You wrote your number on his palm. Your fingers lingered for a moment, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you both. "I... I'd like to talk, if you're willing," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the rumble of his motorcycle. Changbin's expression remained unreadable, but you noticed a flicker of something - curiosity, perhaps, or longing - in his eyes.

“And I'll be in town for a week, doing some press and things. Text me or call sometime.. I know we have a lot to catch up on, and... I'd like to clear the air between us if possible." You paused, searching Changbin's face for any sign of receptiveness. His jaw clenched, but he didn't immediately reject the idea. Taking a deep breath, you added softly, "I've missed you. More than you know."

Changbin looked down at the number messily scrawled onto his hand and without another word he revved his bike to life. The engine roared, drowning out any response he might have given. With one last lingering glance in your direction, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions, he kicked the stand and peeled out of the parking lot. You watched his retreating form disappear into the night, the red glow of his taillights fading into the distance, leaving you alone with the weight of unspoken words and the faint hope of reconciliation.

🥀

The next day you had suffered through three boring and mundane interviews and now you were getting your make up and hair done for a Versace photo shoot. It was an honor of course but, you still felt so caged. Not to mention your mind kept drifting back to Changbin. Your thoughts swirled with memories of his intense gaze, the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, and the electricity that had sparked between you when your fingers touched. As you sat in the makeup chair, you found yourself wondering if he would call or text. The anticipation was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, making it difficult to focus on the glamorous world around you.

🥀

A few hours later the shoot had come to an end. Just as you were changing out of the gorgeous clothes you got to wear your phone buzzed. You fumbled with your bag trying to get it out as fast as you could. An unknown number popped up. You clicked on the message: You want to talk? I’ll be at the hotel around 10 to pick you up.” You automatically knew it was Changbin. Your finger hovered over the keys unsure of what to say so you just settled on: Okay, see you then.

Your manager burst into the dressing room, startling you and nearly causing you to drop your cell phone. "You did an amazing job, Y/n," she praised. "There's a party you need to attend tonight, so we've got to get going." SHe motioned for you to follow her out. As you settled into the black SUV that would take you back to your hotel, your mind raced with anticipation. You weren't just getting ready for a party—you were preparing to meet your long-lost love.

🥀

A couple of hours later, you stood in ripped jeans, a dark red lacy bralette, and your favorite baggy jean jacket. Your eyes lingered on the deep blue sequined dress you were supposed to wear to the party tonight. Your manager would be pissed... your company would be furious... but who cares? You deserved a little fun—a little adventure. Glancing at your phone, you saw it was ten minutes until Changbin's arrival. Your heart raced with anticipation.

You snatched your bag and cast a final glance in the mirror, your stomach aflutter with a cocktail of excitement and nerves. As you strode towards the door, a smile played on your lips at the thought of reuniting with Changbin. The familiar rush of defiance surged through you as you stepped into the hallway, ready to embrace whatever adventures the night held.

You took the stairwell to avoid any potential run ins with the staff or your manger. You let out a heavy sigh of relief once you were outside. The night air was warm and heavy with the sent of rain. You scanned the parking lot, your eyes searching for any sign of Changbin's motorcycle. Your heart skipped a beat when you finally spotted it, parked near the edge of the lot. As you approached, you saw him leaning against the bike, his dark silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of a streetlight.

Changbin's eyes met yours as you drew closer, his gaze intense and unreadable. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. As you reached him, he wordlessly handed you a helmet, the gesture both familiar and strange after all these years apart. “You’re not going to put it on me? Like old times?” You were only half joking but, a part of you hoped he would do it again. It’s something you had always missed.

Changbins eyebrows drew together in an annoyed scowl, "Pretty sure you can do that on your own. You're a smart girl." He said gruffly as he put his own helmet on and straddled his bike. You felt a pang of disappointment at his cold response, but quickly pushed it aside. Swallowing your pride, you slipped the helmet on and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, your arms hesitantly wrapping around Changbin's waist. The familiar warmth of his body against yours brought back a flood of memories, both sweet and painful.

As the engine roared to life, you tightened your grip instinctively, feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. Changbin kicked off, and the world around you blurred into a tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind whipped against your body, carrying with it the scent of leather and gasoline, a nostalgic reminder of countless nights spent racing through the city streets together.

His body had changed, more muscular and taut than you remembered, yet the way he leaned into the curves of the road was achingly familiar. You found yourself unconsciously matching his movements, your bodies in sync as you navigated the city streets. The contradiction of new and old, strange and familiar, sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

All too quickly his bike slowed down, coming to a stop outside what looked like a dilapidated hotel. As Changbin killed the engine, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The building loomed before you, its weathered facade a stark contrast to the sleek modernity of your hotel. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what secrets this place held and why Changbin had brought you here.

Once his bike was turned off you you both were on your feet again you could hear the faint thump of loud music coming from somewhere inside the building. "Why are we here?" You asked more curious than you should be. Changbin's lips curled into a hint of a smile, the first you'd seen all night. "You wanted to talk, didn't you? Well, this is where I do my talking." He jerked his head towards the entrance, his eyes challenging you to follow. The pulsing beat grew louder as you approached, and you felt a familiar thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension.

The place was packed with people dancing, talking as they leaned up against the walls. There were people sitting in the stairwells making out, some were snorting some kind of white substance. You smelled alcohol and weed in the air as well. The scene was a sensory overload, a pulsating mass of bodies and vices that both thrilled and unnerved you. As you followed Changbin deeper into the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. This was clearly his world now, raw and uninhibited, so different from the polished veneer of your current life.

You grabbed onto Changbins thick arm, worried you may get lost in the sea of people. “What is this place?!” You yelled over the music. “I love it!” Changbin glanced back at you, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "It's called The Underground," he shouted back, his voice barely audible over the pounding bass. "It's where people come to forget about the world outside." He led you through the writhing crowd, his hand finding yours in the chaos, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

There was a room towards the back, there was no door but a dark crimson curtain separating this room from the crowd. He held the curtain open for you and you stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the dimmer lighting. The room was smaller, more intimate, with plush velvet couches lining the walls and a few low tables scattered about. A handful of people lounged on the sofas, engaged in hushed conversations or lost in their own worlds. Changbin guided you to an empty couch in the corner, his hand on the small of your back sending shivers up your spine.

Just as you settled down on the couch a few people came up greeting Changbin with handshakes and slaps on the back. “Who’s your friend?” A very pretty blond guy with a scattering of freckles across his face asked. His eyes dancing with curiosity as he looked down at you. “Uh, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Felix.” Changbin half heartedly introduced you to him. As Felix shook your hand his eyes grew wide with recognition. “Wait! Y/n?! The Y/n?!” Felix deep voice grew louder causing other curious eyes to look over at the commotion he was causing.

You blushed and nodded with a soft smile. "Hey Chan, Minho! Come here!" You glanced over at Changbin who was rolling his eyes and turning away. Two more guys approached, their eyes widening as they recognized you. Chan, a handsome man with curly hair, extended his hand with a warm smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Y/n. We've heard so much about you." Minho, standing beside him, nodded in agreement, his cat-like eyes sparkling with interest.

You cocked your head to the side and glanced over at Changbin again.. he talked about me? Or do they just know me from being a public figure? The question burned in your mind as you caught Changbin's eye, noticing a flicker of discomfort cross his face. Before you could dwell on it further, Felix's enthusiastic voice cut through your thoughts.

"Oh man, Changbin used to talk about you all the time! He'd go on and on about—" Felix's words were abruptly cut off as Changbin elbowed him sharply in the ribs, shooting him a warning glare. Chan seemed to notice Changbins discomfort and tugged on Felix’s shirt. “Come on, we have work to do. See you later Bin. Nice to meet you, again.” He nodded in your direction. Changbin's eyes narrowed as he watched his friends leave, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment evident on his face. As silence fell between you two, the air grew thick with unspoken words and lingering questions. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly Changbin had said about you to his friends, and why he seemed so uncomfortable about it now.

"So… you wanted to talk?" Changbins harsh eyes turned their full attention to you, his gaze intense and unwavering. You felt your heart rate quicken under his scrutiny, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through your veins. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the conversation you'd been both longing for and dreading since you first saw him again.

“I..” you began but then closed your mouth trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I know the way I ended things was unfair to you. I was young and scared, and I didn't handle it well. I've regretted it ever since." You paused, searching Changbin's face for any reaction. His expression remained unreadable, but you could see a flicker of something - pain, perhaps? - in his eyes. "I've missed you," you admitted softly, your voice barely audible over the muffled music from outside.

You didn't expect Changbin to except your apology right away but, you didn't expect the words the came out of his mouth. "You're not fucking sorry." His voice was low and harsh, laced with a bitterness that made you flinch. "You left me without a second thought, and now you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology?" Changbin's eyes burned with an intensity that both frightened and captivated you, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass.

You tore your eyes from his, “No.. I don’t think I’ll ever see you again after tonight. I just know I needed to say that to you. And to say.. I never stopped loving you.” You kept your eyes on the ground in front of you for a while longer. Unable to look him in the eyes as you said those words. “It looks like you’re doing… well for yourself.” You finally looked up at his handsome face. “Although.. you’re very different than the boy I once knew.”

Changbin's jaw clenched at your words, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else? He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense. "You don't know anything about me anymore, Y/n. The boy you knew? He's long gone." His words hung heavy in the air between you, charged with unspoken emotions and years of unresolved feelings.

You couldn't help it.. one thing that hadn't changed between you two. Is when he pushed, you pushed back harder. "Then show me who you are now." Your eyes locked with his, a challenge burning in your gaze. Changbin's expression shifted, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. Without warning, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him. His grip was firm but not painful, his lips only a whisper from yours. “I don’t think you could handle who I am now.. I don’t fit into your perfect world, Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the tension between you palpable. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself leaning into him, drawn by the magnetic pull of his intensity. "Maybe I don't want to fit into that perfect world anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the muffled bass from the other room. Changbin's eyes darkened, a mix of surprise and desire flickering across his face.

Changbins hand let go of your wrist, his dark brown eyes still locked on yours as his hands gripped onto your waist nearly pulling you into his lap. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean, little girl. My world is no joke.” His grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you even closer. The heat of his body radiated through your clothes, igniting a fire within you that you thought had long since been extinguished. "You have no idea what you're asking for," Changbin growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Your eyes drifted from his intense stare to his plump lips, “I think I can handle it.” Your voice came out hushed and breathy. Your heart raced as you felt the tension between you reach a fever pitch. Without warning, Changbin closed the remaining distance, his lips crashing against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you faded away as you melted into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his hair as years of pent-up longing and desire poured out between you.

The kiss depended as he moved to push you back on the couch, his large body covering yours. His narrow hips settling easily between yours and you could feel is very hard cock beneath his clothes. His hands roamed your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touched. You arched into him, desperate for more contact, more friction. The rational part of your mind screamed that this was dangerous, that you were in a public place, but the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins drowned out all reason.

Changbin's lips traced a fiery path down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers cascading down your spine. You gasped as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The world around you melted away, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of his touch and the thunderous pounding of your heart. As he lavished attention on your neck, your eyes fluttered open, suddenly remembering your surroundings. Some people were watching, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and desire. A rush of excitement mingled with embarrassment flooded through you. The thrill of being observed only intensified your desire, making your body respond even more fervently to Changbin's touch. You couldn't help but wonder if this was part of his world now—this raw, uninhibited display of passion that both exhilarated and terrified you.

Just as Changbin's hands found their way under your shirt, slowly lifting it up and over your bare chest, you suddenly came to your senses. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your breast, sending shivers down your spine. But as the reality of the situation hit you, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. You gently placed your hand on Changbin's chest, pushing him back slightly as you caught your breath. "Changbin, let's stop."

Changbin pulled back, his eyes searching yours with a mix of confusion and frustration. The sudden shift in atmosphere was palpable, the heat between you cooling rapidly. You sat up, adjusting your clothes and trying to catch your breath. The reality of where you were and what you were doing came crashing down, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Changbin ran his tongue over his lips, savoring your lingering taste. He was breathless, his eyes still dark with desire. "I knew you couldn't handle it," he said, his voice husky and challenging.

Changbin's words stung, but you couldn't deny their truth. You weren't ready for his world—not yet. The realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, smothering the last embers of desire that had burned so brightly moments ago. You stood up, smoothing down your clothes and trying to regain your composure. His eyes followed your every movement. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

His voice was low, almost challenging. You turned to face him, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just transpired. "I'm going to find someone I can handle," you said, your tone sharp with defiance. As you moved towards the curtain, you felt the weight of Changbin's gaze on your back—a mix of disappointment and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

As you slipped through the curtain, the club's pulsing music crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning out the echoes of your encounter with Changbin. The vibrant lights and writhing bodies stood in stark contrast to the intimate darkness you'd just left behind. Your eyes swept across the crowd, searching for a distraction—someone, anyone, who could help you forget the lingering taste of Changbin's lips and the inferno he'd ignited within you.

There, you spotted a striking man with dark hair streaked with white-blonde. He swayed to the music, his infectious smile lighting up his face. A taller, baby-faced guy stood beside him. Your eyes lingered on the handsome dancer, drawn to his carefree energy. Without hesitation, you made your way through the crowd towards them, determined to lose yourself in the pulsing rhythm and the company of someone new.

As you approached, you noticed his deep dimples as he smiled widely. "Hey! Wanna dance?" you asked without hesitation, hoping Changbin was watching. You weren't trying to make him jealous, but you were determined to show him you weren't some pathetic little girl. The handsome man turned to you, his dimples deepening as his smile widened. "Sure thing!" he shouted over the music, already moving to the rhythm. A rush of excitement coursed through you as he took your hand, leading you further onto the dance floor.

"What's your name?" you shouted, leaning closer to him. The scent of cologne and cigarettes wafted from him—an intoxicating combination that drew you in. "I'm Jeongin!" he yelled back, his warm breath tickling your ear. His eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of mischief as he asked, "And you are?" "Y/n!" you responded. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, but he didn't comment further.

You and Jeongin danced for a while, gradually moving closer without quite touching until he placed his hands low on your hips. His touch was warm, but you felt little in response. As you swayed to the music, your mind drifted back to Changbin—the intensity of his touch still lingering on your skin. You tried to focus on Jeongin's friendly smile, but the comparison was inevitable.

Just as Jeongin began pulling you closer, his lean body pressing firmly against yours, someone suddenly yanked you out of his hold. In an instant, Changbin materialized between you and Jeongin, his muscular frame taut with anger. His dark eyes blazed with possessive fury as he glared at Jeongin, one hand gripping your arm tightly. "She's with me," Changbin snarled, his voice low and dangerous, brooking no argument.

"No—" you began, but were cut off as Changbin hoisted you over his shoulder. "I thought friends shared!" Jeongin called out, his tone playful and clearly not serious. "Not this one," Changbin growled before turning and carrying you off. You squirmed in his grasp, trying to break free. "What the hell? Where are we going?" you shouted over the pulsing music.

Changbin's grip only tightened on your body. "To teach your bratty ass a lesson," he growled.

Tagging all the tags I have because I lost my separate lists. So idk who wanted to be tagged in what… I’m sorry!! But please comment if you were someone who only wanted to be tagged in only one members posts! Thank you!

@supernovanetwork @cashtonsbetch @katsukis1wife @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @moonchild9350 @myflowercloud @143hyunes @luvyblossom @shecheatedwithme @antisocialties @akaligogrrr @nicolparadis @thisaintredwine @rose-w-00-d @jisuperboard @heavenlyangelic @dessianna1 @velvetmoonlght @kayleefriedchicken

[aklxojjk]

Chica Tímida

[ Gekko x Fem!Reader ] Gekko looks through your phone and finds the Spanish lessons Reyna was giving you.

note - This has the smallest amount of lore, reader understands Spanish but doesn't know how to speak very well, i got most of my Spanish from my Mexican friend so if its wrong please let me know. ALSO ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR THE GRAMMAR.

w/c - 2k

warnings - Smut, praise, dirty talk, dirty talk in Spanish, very passionate, riding, fingering.

purple text is Reyna and green is Gekko in case y'all get confused.

MDNI

You sit up in your small but comfortable bed rubbing your eyes, looking at your clock it shines a bright 7:00 AM at you. Groaning slightly you get up and make your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on you start brushing your teeth immediately. After getting done with your daily skincare routine you change into more acceptable clothing, since you sleep with just panties and a shirt on every day.

Making your way to the kitchen you see a bare-faced Reyna drinking some black coffee. 

"Good morning chica." She says in between sips.

"Morning... I just had the worst sleep ever, felt like I just took a nap, you?" Yawning you make your way to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs with bacon.

"it was alright, our work has been pretty complicated lately" She looks at you with a sly smile. 

"Why are you looking at me like that Reyna... What did I do this time?" you give her a smile taking the seat in front of her, taking a sip of your coffee.

"How have you and Gekko been?" Her tone is playful.

"We've been good unless he told you otherwise…?" your statement comes out more like a question.

"No, he told me you guys were closer than ever... but he wishes you were closer if you know what I mean." she sips her coffee nonchalantly.

"I see, I mean the only reason I've been hesitating is because I wish I could talk to him more you know... sensually but in Spanish." looking away from her, you feel your cheeks grow warm. 

Your relationship with Reyna has always been really good even before Gekko joined the team, but recently you noticed that she has been talking to him more, and that made you feel as if you couldn't share information with her about your relationship with Gekko. Maybe it was the fear that she would disapprove of you guys relationship or perhaps you were just too timid to share all the details.

"How about I teach you some phrases?" 

"Please do" Pulling up the notepad app on your phone you give her a nod as if to say 'I'm ready'

"Just give me your phone I'll write them down for you"

You immediately give her the phone and finish your breakfast, grabbing her empty plate and putting it in the sink. When you come back she puts your phone in front of you, smirking.

"'Okay let's see if the pro has game" You smile at her and pick up the phone.

qué guapo estás

me encatas

estoy loca por ti

Estoy pensando en ti todo el tiempo

estás bueno

cógeme

https://www.spanish_pillow_talk.com

You can understand most of these except for the word before the link, they were normal compliments one would give their partner.

"What does cógeme mea-" Your sentence is cut short when wingman jumps in your lap, meaning Gekko is not too far behind. 

"Hola amiguito" 

"Hi wingman" you say before squeezing the poor little guy.

"Hola mi Reyna, hola mi cariño" his arms wrap around you from behind and you feel his head on top of yours, before you could look up he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and heads to the kitchen to grab his breakfast.

"Te ves guapo hoy." you immediately shift your gaze to Reyna looking for some sort of approval, and she nods slowly. 

"Only today? I thought I looked good every day." His laugh can be heard from far away, that laugh that you so loved. 

"You know what I mean" Rolling your eyes you click on the link that Reyna had left on your notes, the website took a while to load so you just went to get water. 

"Gekko you've got training later today with Harbor, I totally wish I could stay pero yo tengo una meeting con brimstone" Reyna stands up making her way out the door.

"So I was thinking we could hang out before you have to train" You come back to the table water in hand, and as you sit down you notice your phone is missing. 'Where is my phone?' you thought lifting the table cloth and checking all of Gekko's pets to see if they had it, but your phone was still missing.

"So what exactly do you mean by "hang" before I train" he has a slight smile on his face, he's holding your phone reading something off it.

"just hang out in your room- Oh." you quickly snatched your phone off his hand, checking what he was reading. Your phone read: 'Pillow talk in Spanish' 

“just hang?”

"I was asking Reyna how to uhm compliment you in Spanish and she… she recommended that website!" your nervousness gave it away, he knew you were lying.

“so Reyna recommended you to talk dirty to me? no necesitas mentirme, estoy tan duro pensando en ti” He’s no longer interested in his food but rather you.

You look down at your notes analyzing everything you could say to him right now. “okay maybe we won’t just hang, but please speak slowly so I can understand you.” Eyebrows dropping as if begging him for mercy. 

“Of course,” He took his time throwing all the trash out and leaving the dishes in the sink, but once he was done he lifted you making your legs wrap around his waist. “I’ll do whatever you ask me to”

As he walked to the room he kept giving quick pecks on your lips and cheeks, making you blush as you looked him deeply in those brown eyes of his. Gekko is okay with PDA but knowing you don’t like it, he chose to not embarrass you in case someone comes out of their room.

Stopping the kisses to get the door open, he sits down on the edge of the bed with you still in his lap. He pushes his lips against yours again when all of a sudden he bites your lip softly and you open your mouth just enough to let his tongue in, the heat is intensifying and your moans start getting more audible. Your hips can’t help but grind against his clothed dick, which he responds with helping hands deepening the friction. You both break the kiss to catch your breath but when you are about to go back in he makes you stand, then spins you around so your back is facing him and he sits you down again on his lap. 

“Relax cariño,” You feel his warm breath as he gets closer to your neck, then your shoulders, then up to your face… teasing you slowly as he leaves a trail of kisses. His hands caress your hips just above your panties, his digits twirl around the cloth, he subsequently slides it off your thigh then drops it on the floor. “Estas tan mojada” he whispers in your ear as his hands roam all around your thigh but not where you need him most. One of his hands leaves your thigh and you feel his digits go up and down your slit, spreading it, collecting some of your wetness.

your hand covers your mouth making it very hard for him to hear you, you didn’t mind that since this whole situation made you so timid.

 “Why are you so quiet.. am I not doing this right?” You feel Gekko’s frown as he kisses your neck before he pushes his fingers inside you, gently pumping you, curving them ever so slightly trying to find your sweet spot.

“Cógeme porfa..” You didn't mean for it to come as a whimper but you’re glad it did because he started fingering you deeper and faster, every pump hitting your sweet spot and making you huff and whimper out his name. 

“I will as soon as you cum” his voice low as he concentrated on making you feel good, his free hand stops roaming your hips now cupping one of your breasts fidgeting with your nipple. He knows you’re close and that's turning him on. “Tan hermosa” his whispers in your ear tickle, you turn your head to look at him with eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. 

“I’m about to- “ his glistening wet fingers slide out of you leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, but that's instantly replaced with pleasure when he starts rubbing circles on your clit. You can’t manage to get any words out as your orgasm takes over you, leaving your legs trembling and your eyes closed shut. 

His fingers start rapidly rubbing your sensitive spot as you're coming down from your high, the movement makes you throw your head back against his shoulder. Once you’ve stopped trembling you hide your face on his neck, kissing it and marking your territory.

He once again makes you stand up only this time though he stands up with you sliding his pants down, he sits back down on the bed with his arms behind him to support him. 

You try to be sexy by leaning down and rubbing him through his boxers but he pulls you in by the waist forcing you to fall on top of him, you lift yourself off of him and pull his boxers down. One of his hands is firmly gripping your waist and the other is still behind him. 

“Me encanta cuando me miras así” This is probably the most you have used your brain to speak Spanish but it pays off seeing the look he gave you. 

“yeah?” the hand on your waist forces you down on him earning a moan from you as he took you by surprise, you both let out a groan as more of him slides inside. Both his hands grab a hold of your ass and start moving you, making you grind on him. You speed up as he adjusts himself inside you, thinking the grinding isn't enough you start to bounce on him. He lays back down pulling you with him, kissing you passionately as his back hits the mattress. 

“qué rico mami, me encantas” He whispers sweetly in your ear while his hands rub your back, his lips giving you a small kiss on the cheek, then your lips, then down your neck. “I love you”

“I love you too” You’re drunk off his love, eyes closed, smiling at anything he says, craving his touch as you push your body against his. All of that comes to an end when you open your eyes and go back to riding on him, he pulls you down just enough to be able to grab your boobs. You look at him sweetly and he does the same to you, he adores you.

His eyebrows furrowed as you picked up a pace and his hands left your torso and are now on your hips again, making you grind faster. One of his hands leaves your side and holds your face making you look at him as he’s about to cum. He wants to see your face when you finish with him inside, he wants to see you throw your head back, your mouth part open, and he wants to hear you moan his name.

His eyes are closed but he tries to keep them half open as he's about to cum, your mouth agape slightly as you feel your second orgasm arrive. You push your lips against his own as you both moan in each other mouth, his hands never leaving you.

Gasping for air you part ways, getting off him and lying next to each other you both stare at each other. Nothing but love in both your eyes, smiling wide you giggle a bit.

"¿qué~?" he hugs you as you both laugh

“you should speak Spanish more often, you sound so sexy” You say with your face in his neck

“you should too, i loved it.”

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 92)

N landed on the nest in a panic, vision blurry with tears as he stripped his mate of her frozen clothes and wrapped them both in as many blankets as possible, using himself as a space heater against her. Tera staring curiously at the flurry of movement, growing worried.

She was so cold that it brought his own internal temperature down before he began to warm her up, her body shivering and breaths coming out in shallow pants, her eyes were knitted shut, and gripping desperately onto him.

“N…?” She asked eye creaking open and voice filled with static, He shushed her gently.

“You're okay… I'm here.” He murmurs, wrapping around her tightly, his eyelights blinking back worried tears as he runs his fingers through her hair.

“T-the baby…” She croaks, tears filling her eyes as well, his core drops and shatters into a thousand peices.

“L-let me see, maybe they're okay.”

He backs away slowly, just enough to see her core resting in her chest, it's still white… but it's dimming, purple beginning to bleed through, as the white glow grows dimmer and dimmer.

“No… nonono…” He whines, he's lost on what to do, is there anything he could do? His hand grazes across the glass covering, resting on it, trying to feel the little one's corebeat along with Uzi's, Uzi's was slower then normal already, and he struggled to find any sign of their child's corebeat… until he did; it was faint and much too slow, wavering in and out of being nothing at all.

Uzi's gaze was locked on N's expression, watching as his eyelights hollowed and his body shook, tears hit her harder, sobs working their way put of her throat.

“Oh my god…” She chokes out, and N is forced to watch helplessly as the white light dies out and the tiny little corebeat peeters out into nothing, tears stream down N's visor as he closes his eyes, it feels like his very soul gets ripped in half.

“Uzi… I-I” He can't finish the sentence, emotion clogging his throat as She throws herself deeper into his arms, full body sobs wracking her body as they both lie there, N says nothing more, only lets her cry as he does the same into her shoulder.

“I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…” He weeps unfettered, body trembling like a leaf, they lost them… they lost their baby…

Uzi can't reply, she only buries herself deeper into his shoulder like she wants to dissappear there, He's felt pain before, but nothing compared to this, nothing at all.

He rests his hands over her midsection, forehead resting on hers as everything around them seems to completely dissappear into shadows.

Tera is… confused. Mama and Papa are crying, and she's never seen either of them so upset before, she crawls up to her mother, hands resting near her father's hands.

She chirps softly, cocking her head up at both of them, but neither seems to notice. She lays her head down on her mother's midsection, eyes closing in an attempt at comfort.

…

Until something kicks her head gently, causing her to yelp. She startles, blinking.

She's hit again, something is moving around in her mom's midsection and is doing its danmdest to knock her off it. She growls, eyelights coming to glare angrily.

“T-Tera… come on sweet pea, it's n-not playtime…” Her father comes to try and pick her up, but she just keeps growling, staring at where the movement was with great vitriol.

“What's got you… so…” He trails off, moving his hand.

Kick

Kick

Kick

His face breaks into a relived smile, overjoyed at feeling the baby kicking, he nearly screams.

“Uziii!” He yelps, grabbing her hands and placing them where his was, she's confused at first, but then she feels it, the gentle movement underneath her hand and the sporadic tiny kicks that follows.

She can barely breathe she's so happy, she turns and kisses her boyfriend as hard as she can, which he returns with just as much fervor and the rapid wagging of his tail.

When they part they're both smiling, tears still running down both their visors but now out of pure relief, N leans down into her stomach.

“Oh you had us so worried!” He says, which causes Uzi to laugh through tears, and laugh even harder when he places a flurry of kisses there.

“N! That tickles!” She yelps, lightly shoving his face away, which only causes them to embrace again.

“We're all okay…” He mumbles, and he feels her nod rapidly in response, he exhales, like he was holding his breath the entire time.

“Mama! Papa!” Tera squeals in indignation, not liking being confused or left out, she's immediately picked up and hugged tightly by both of their parents. She grumbles still, but is much happier with this arrangement.

“We should tell her now… she can feel them.” Uzi mutters, still recovering from the rollercoaster of emotions she was just sent on, she grabs N's hand.

“Yeah…”

He takes his daughters hands and places them on her mother, making Tera cock her head and look up at him. A force kicks her hand.

“You feel that Jellybean?” He asks, and she nods, eyelights wide.

“That's your little sibling, you're gonna be a big sister.” He smiles, and she looks back down, tilting her head in both directions like a confused puppy.

“Sib-ling?” She mouths, having no understanding of the word to know what that means.

“That's right, they'll call us Mama and Papa too, they're just… not quite ready to see us yet.” Uzi tries to help explain, but once she noticed… the kicking was a little uncomfortable.

Tera takes a moment to think.

“Shy?” She asks, looking up at her mom. And Uzi smiles back.

“Yeah… you could say that.” She chuckled, leaning back against her boyfriends arm.

Tera nods softly, eyelights furrowing in deep thought, her tongue sticking out.

“Brother.” She says suddenly, catching them both off gaurd.

“What?”

“Sibling, Brother.” She said again, and the parents both looked at each other in surprise.

“How do you know that Jellybean?” N asks, but all the ten month old responded with was a shrug.

“Her guess is as good as ours.” Uzi hums with a shrug of her own, and the couple relaxed into their nest with a moment of silence.

“I'm gonna kill J if I see her again.” Uzi says abruptly, and N doesn't even move in response, just shakes his head.

“Not if I get to her first…”

Next ->

[natailiatulls07]

Drive to survive

Charles Leclerc & leclerc!driver!reader

Summary - Netflix's drive to survive interviews Y/n and Charles Leclerc about something that caused immense issues

Warning - Cheating, car crash, panic attack, fire, crying, swearing and self doubt

Reader drives for Ferrari

Purple is flashbacks

-

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"Hello, I'm Y/n Leclerc. I'm 24 years old and I race for Ferrari alongside my twin brother, Charles Leclerc" I sat in the seat just in front of the camera, my anxiety throw the roof. My last season had ended on a bad note, with some personal troubles effecting my focus on track.

The producer settled herself down just to the side of the camera with a hand full of questions and topics that we would talk through for Netflix. "How are you feeling right now?"

Taking a deep breath in and out before answering. "yeah..I think I'm good. but yet I guess I'll have to be" A nervous chuckle left my lips which earned me a look of sympathy from the producer.

Looking down at her paper, she prepared herself to ask the first question. "So how do you feel after your ending last year?" Her voice calm and collected, as if she wanted me to feel that energy, this was what I was grateful for.

It took me a second of debating, debating my answer. "Um yeah, I mean it was a hard time obviously...I had some personal problems regarding my relationship and unfortunately that had its effect on my performance" A pause to think over my answer. "Of course I should not have um let that effect my performance, which I am greatly disappointed at myself for"

-

Walking into my appartment, I noticed the absence of Theo in the open plan kitchen lounge. I searched further into the appartment. Thats where I saw Theo in my bed with another girl.

Tears were welling up in my eyes, I had been dating him since I was just twenty but yet he decided to throw that away for some girl. "What the fuck?!" Shock, betrayal and heartbreak. Thats all I felt.

That night I kicked him and his sidechick out of my appartment, wanting to see nothing of them ever again. Luckily my three brothers were coming round that evening. So when they saw me, cheeks burned with tears, they knew something happened.

~

It was the last grand prix of the season, Abu Dhabi, I was sat in p4 just awaiting for the five red lights to flash away. My head was clogged with that day, the day I got heartbroken. "Radio check, radio check" My race engineers voice came through my headset.

"Loud and clear..." Voice low and weary as I replied.

"Y/n...you can do it, just forget and clear your mind" He knew of my heartache, heck everyone knew, wanting nothing more for me to end the season on a high note.

That race was my worst race to date. I didn't finish it. It was the Abu Dhabi race where I crashed, the Abu Dhabi race where I just sat by my burning car tangled up in a panic attack. I couldn't control my breathing or my mind.

Not my finest hour, in my opinion it was my very worse.

-

Looking down at my lap, I could see my leg persistantly bumping up and down. It was hard to talk about that time. "What was your first instinct to your crash?" The producer asked her next question.

Once again my mind was casted back to that night. "Well um I remember that after I got out of my car, I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't control my breathing. I was having a panic attack and I just couldn't calm myself down"

-

It was loud. I could hear the safety team trying to calm down the fire. I could hear fans watching on from the sidelines. I could hear my race engineer trying to calm me down through my headset. I felt like I was moving away from the real world every second.

My mind couldn't focus on one thing. I felt the warmth of the fire on my body. I felt the hands of a safety team member trying to bring me back down to earth.

~

When Charles heard the red flag through his radio, his mind went straight to Y/n. Where was Y/n? Is Y/n okay? Growing up Charles grew more and more protective of his twin.

So when he saw her car and herself not in attendance of the Ferrari, he became even the more distressed. But when he saw the crash on the large television screen, he set off run towards it much to the team dismay.

Charles ran until he reached the burn car. He saw her sat there curled up in her arms.

"Bébé bébé peux-tu m'entendre? Je suis là, souffle souffle écoute mon coeur" He pulled her into himself, moving her head to rest just above his heart. Wanting her to hear his heartbeat and copy it.

Charles knew of her panic attacks, he watched them grow worse and worse as they grew up. But he always knew how to help her, calm her down and breath.

-

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari

"How did you feel when you saw your teammate and sister crash and then have a panic attack?" The producer asked the 25 year old Ferrari driver.

His eyes downcasted, that night was his nightmare. "I remember feeling um this sense of terror fill me when I saw her crash. Aside from being my teammate at Ferrari, Y/n is my twinsister. She's has always had her panic attacks but that night..." Charles felt his eye water up even at the thought.

"That night was the worst panic attack she has ever had, I don't think I'll recover from that night" Standing up from his chair, Charles walked away from the camera. Tears flooding down his cheeks.

-

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"It was only when Charles came that I started to come back down to earth. It's always when he comes that I come back." It was always Charles who helped me through my panic attacks.

Charles. He has been my rock ever since forever. He had been my rock when times got rough and tough. Before each race checking on me and everyday checking on me. He knew how hard I was taking my breakup and just wanted to help me through that.

Once again, I took in another deep breath, trying to distance myself from that night. "So 2023, how are you feeling about returning to Ferrari with Charles by your side?" The producer continued.

A small smile made its way to my face. "Yeah um I'm excited of course. I love racing, I love getting behind that wheel and fighting for a place on the podium, fighting for first place" Nodding my head, with approval of my comment.

"Well thank you so much for talking with us today, I know it's hard to talk about something like that" The camera were cut off, we both stood up from our seats.

Walking out of the studio, I felt a sense of relief and solace fall on my shoulders. This replacing the deep sorrow and disappointment.

-

I heard my appartment door open and close. Walking into the kitchen lounge, Charles had a proud smile on his face. "Whats got you smile like that?" I laughed at my confusion, Charles joining in with my amused laughter.

"Lucy, your manager, just called me and she told me about your interview with Netflix today...I'm so proud of you baby sis" His tears cloud his waterline whilst tears of my own clouded my own.

Finally, I had gotten over my anxiety and my regret. I could breath again.

-

[moowmoon]

APT.

— spencer reid x fem!reader

— summary: it was just one spooky night at an amusement park, what could go wrong? or… right?

— c/w: i think none?

— w/c: 1k

— a/n: hello! another spencer one-shot! this idea is based on the song "apt. (feat. bruno mars)" by rose! i hope you guys like it! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there's any mistake!

moowmoon playlist

“sleep tomorrow,

but tonight go crazy”

— apt. (feat. bruno mars), rose

The park was covered in fog, making the orange and purple lights of the Halloween decorations give the place even more of a ghostly glow. The air was infused with the sweet scent of caramel apples and sweet popcorn, mingling gently with a light breeze that made the dry leaves dance across the ground. Costumed children and adults passed by excitedly, some in bright superhero and cartoon costumes, others in terrifying costumes of monsters, ghosts, and vampires, laughing and screaming at each scare meticulously planned by the attractions.

In the center of the park, a huge Ferris wheel spun slowly, the seats decorated with fake spiders' webs, witches' hats, and pumpkin-shaped lanterns. On the loudspeaker, soft yet macabre music played while sinister recorded laughter echoed from time to time. The atmosphere emanated an atmosphere of mystery, a promise of fun mixed with chills, making everyone around them feel that twinge of excitement - and maybe a little fear.

Spencer's gaze traveled around the room with a tinge of curiosity. He was fascinated by the details of the park, the care taken with the scary decorations and, for a brief moment, he found himself analyzing the behavior of the people around him, noticing their natural reactions to the scares and fantasies.

In one of the furthest corners of the park, there was a corridor. The dark corridor seemed narrower than Spencer had imagined. The walls were covered with fake spider webs and skeletal hands that emerged from the shadows, while the sounds of footsteps and whispers echoed around them. A dim light pulsed at the end of the corridor, casting elongated, distorted shadows that danced across the walls, creating shapes that seemed to move on their own.

Spencer kept his hands in his pockets, trying to disguise the tension that ran up his spine, but she noticed the way he was biting his lip, his eyes scanning his surroundings as if looking for a real threat amidst the sea of special effects. He was a man of science, skeptical of anything supernatural, but the environment made him slightly disconcerted, and that added to the sense of danger in the air. She held back her nervous laughter, trying to concentrate on the footsteps, but the silence between them only intensified the sound of accelerated breathing.

A loud creak echoed, followed by a quick movement from one of the attractions next to them. Instinctively, Spencer jumped slightly, and she felt equally startled. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as if to justify himself, but they both knew they were sharing the same feeling of fear; creating a silent but powerful connection between them. The fear seemed to grow with every step, and she wondered if either of them really believed it was just an act.

For a brief moment, a cold, unexpected breeze blew past them, causing the lights to flicker instantly. They both froze at the same second, hearing a low, crawling sound coming from the shadows. The whispers and muffled footsteps seemed to be getting closer and closer, and she felt her heart racing, hammering in her ears.

Then, again, something in the dark moved with a sudden snap, like a door slamming shut. And before she could react, Spencer, in an involuntary gesture, grabbed her hand. His fingers were cold, and the pressure was firm as if he were trying to keep them anchored in reality.

They stayed like that for a second, their hands intertwined, sharing the same apprehension. And neither of them made a move to let go. On the contrary, the grip between them only seemed to get stronger, as if they were anchoring themselves to each other. She could feel the tension in every fiber of his muscles, but at the same time, a sense of security began to envelop their bodies. It was just a simple gesture, but given the situation they were in, the connection that touch created was all they needed.

After a few more cautious steps, and a few more scares that left them on the verge of jumping in surprise, Spencer and she finally spotted a soft orange light appearing at the end of the corridor, announcing the end of the attraction. It was the signal that the ride had come to an end, and the feeling of relief was immediate.

They exchanged a glance and, almost at the same time, let out a deep sigh as if they had been holding their breath from the first moment. She laughed first, a nervous laugh that echoed through the silent space, that echoed through the silent space and that soon infected Spencer. His laugh was low, somewhat restrained, but full of a lightness that was unusual for him.

“I knew you were having fun,” she teased, still laughing. Spencer raised an eyebrow, a crooked smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

“Having fun might be an exaggeration,” he replied, looking down at their hands, which were still intertwined. “I'd say it was a different experience.”

Their laughter gradually subsided and, for a moment, they were just watching each other, the shadows behind and the soft light in front creating a kind of bubble of complicity between them. 

The noise of the park seemed to dissolve around them, leaving only the two of them in the middle of the mist and the lights. Spencer watched her with an intense gaze, that thoughtful, gentle way he had as if trying to record every detail of that moment between them. Her heart raced again, but this time for a different reason.

She moved closer, almost without thinking, the impulse too strong to ignore. Spencer didn't back away, and for a brief moment, they stood there, their breath mingling in the cool night air. Then she leaned in and lightly touched her lips to his. The kiss was quick, but filled with an unexpected electricity, an instant that lasted just long enough to leave a mark on both their lives.

When she pulled back, she saw the surprise in his eyes, the shy smile beginning to form at the corner of his lips. They stared at each other for another second, both surprised, but smiling and sharing a kind of secret that is only revealed on a magical night like that.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Could I request III X reader where he shows up at readers house with flowers and confesses his feelings?

Forget-He-Didn't.

iii x GN reader!

Under the cut. <3

The smell of them stops you in your tracks, nose turned up to the sun in an effort to follow the trail. The suddenness in your mid-step freeze gives iii no time to stop before the length of his body collides with yours. “Fuck, sorry love. I wasn't paying attention… what's wrong?”

He lies. He was paying attention, probably too close attention to every step you were taking in front of him, but he'd rather die right this instant then place any of the blame on you. This cheesehead is head over heels for you, and apparently the whole world can see it BUT you. Which is as frustrating for him as it is for the rest of his bandmates and friends, you’d think a 6 foot something tree of a man ogling you at every given second with eyes brighter than the sky would be obvious… apparently it isn’t to the only person in the world he wants it to be obvious to. 

Those same eyes don’t leave you for a second, he watches you in silence sniffing the air like a puppy who’s caught wind of some treats nearby. He can’t stop the smile that grows on his lips at the way you look right now, he finds himself with aching cheeks more often than he’s willing to admit when it comes to you. You’re just so lovely to watch, and right now you’re killing him. Your head turns, gaze pointed across the street and before he can even follow your eyes, you’ve taken off across the road. Leaving him there on the footpath as you wander over to the shops that line the other side of the street. He grumbles something under his breath about being left behind as he steps off the footpath to follow closely behind you. 

“You know you’re supposed to hold hands when you cross the street. Haven’t you heard of street safety?” 

He mumbles to you once he reaches you, back in his rightful place by your side. He’d argue he’s the only one privileged enough to stand there. 

“Oh look at that iii, you lived.” 

You retort back to him a little playfully, and although his eyes always seemed to be cast to you, they somehow miss the light dust of a blush that dances across your cheeks and up towards the tips of your ears at his words. He might’ve caught it had he not dramatically rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head, he’s surprised they didn’t get lost back there. Being playful and cheeky with iii has always been easy, he is the embodiment of cheeky. He’s always got something sly to say, cracking some kind of joke or setting you up for a bit of banter. It’s always been lighthearted and fun, and the way his eyes light up when you can counter his playful snark breathes life into your very being every single time. You’d be a fool not to when he looks at you like that. 

The strongest smell of flowers hits him in the nose out of nowhere, the words he’d had ready to throw back to you die on his tongue when the scent encompasses him entirely. You’ve pulled him over to a florist, his eyes find you gazing lovingly at the beautiful bunches and bouquets of flowers that line the outside of the shop. 

“Flowers huh? I’m more of a box of chocolates guy myself but if you insist, my favourites are forget-me-nots.” 

He pokes at your side with a silly smile etched onto his face. 

“Forget-me-nots? I always pinned you as more of a sunflower lover.” 

What was a silly smile grows into a devious one. 

“You can pin me anytime you like darling.” 

He laughs at his own words, even though he’s being one trillion percent serious. But the way you shove him gently and turn your back to him to hide your own smile kicks his heart into gear. 

He studies you as you admire the flowers for sale, he watches you pick bunches of them up to smell each individual flower, appreciating every single one of them. 

There’s one though, that he noticed right away, that you keep going back too. It’s beautiful really. It’s stuffed with the prettiest blues and purples, the greens from the leaves bringing the bouquet together perfectly. You’ve picked it up three different times to admire it closely, and he’s positive you’ve cast your eyes back to it about a hundred times in the few minutes you’ve both been here. It’s clear you really like that one, but you continue on past the florist and back down the way you were headed before your nose pulled you over here. He takes one final look at it, committing it to memory before following you back down the street to enjoy what the rest of the shops here have to offer. 

“Not gonna buy any?”

iii asks you casually, wondering why you left without getting the one you clearly wanted. 

“Hm? Oh, no. Sorry to drag you over there, turns out I don’t exactly have the funds for those ones.” 

He nods along as you talk, hung up on every word that slips from your pretty lips.

“But you were thinking about it?”

Is he being obvious? He hopes not. Maybe. Maybe he hopes you get the hint and let him down easy before he can risk making a fool of himself. But the idea of your rejection sours his stomach immediately. 

“I was yeah, I love flowers but… you know, I don’t know…”

You trail off there without finishing your thought. iii wishes he could climb inside your mind and read every thought you’ve ever had. Every unfinished sentence. Every fleeting opinion. Every deep dark secret. Every hidden thought and feeling you’ve ever had about him. He’d read it all and he’s not even sorry about it. 

He doesn’t pester you about the flowers any longer. He settles for trailing closely behind you as you lead the way down the street. Weaving through people and families as you go. He’d follow you anywhere. He really would. And it’s now he realises he can’t keep living like this. His place is next to you. Not behind you. He wants to be in your heart and in your head every single waking second like you are in his. He’s silently fought and lost this battle countless times. The ‘do-I-don't-I?’ eating at him for longer than he’s proud of. Sometimes he’s so certain you’re about as in love with him as he is with you, and he’s positive that you’ll be his by the end of the day as he gears up to ask you out. But then the day comes to an end and things kind of just fizzle out, you say your goodbyes and scurry off and out of his reach without even so much as a second glance back at him. He’s laid awake into the early hours of the morning talking about you to anyone who’ll listen. His usual victims being IV and Vessel, they listen to him yap about everything you did that day, agreeing that it really did seem you had some kind of feelings for him. Each of them always confused about why you leave him hanging every time the day is over. He’s convinced himself you’re just worried about ruining the friendship, it quells his aching heart just enough to get him to sleep. Because in all honesty, it’s the same reason he hasn’t made any particular moves on you yet either. For a man that oozes confidence from every crevice of his being, he sure does overthink a lot. He’s thought of every single horrible outcome that could follow your rejection of his feelings for you, the biggest one… and the one that keeps his lips shut everytime… Is that you’ll pull away and he’ll lose you entirely. He’d rot from the inside out if that happened, he’s sure of it. iii has settled on the decision to keep you as what he’d call his best friend in the world, if that meant you never knew his true feelings, so many times he’s lost count. He’d give up the chance to have you how his heart craves, if it meant he’d never lose you. And he was okay with that. He really was. Until now. 

He’s a little quieter the rest of the day, you notice. Because of course you do. And it makes his heart soar that you pick up on these things. 

“Talk to me big guy, what’s going on in that brain of yours?” 

He stomps down on the obvious distraction he’s sporting right now, he throws you his best smile and waggles his brows at you suggestively.

“Big guy huh? Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The eye roll you give him in return does get a laugh from him, and he’s grateful he’s got something else to think about for a few minutes. Even though that something is still you, it dampens the black hole that opened up in the pit of his stomach. 

“You’re horrible. You know what I meant, iii. You’re not present.” 

And he sighs, because you’re spot on. But now is not the time, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry you or freak you out.

“I think I ate something bad last night… somethings not agreeing with me…”

He watches your face contort immediately, despite his lie, you still worry.

“You’re not feeling well?”

You blurt at him quickly, your eyebrows pull together to the middle of your face and you’re stepping closer to him before he can even settle you. Your hands are on his face, checking for his temperature and giving him a thorough once over to look for any signs of possible food poisoning. He has to crack a little smile, the affection that explodes for you in his chest is overwhelming and he swears he almost passes out because of it. He reaches up to grasp your wrists gently in his much larger hands and bring them back down to your level. Not without a quick caress of his thumbs on the underside of your wrists before letting go. Can’t blame the man for soaking you up as much as he can. 

“Relax you, I’m fine. I think I just need to take a nap or something. I’m not gonna die, not without taking you down with me anyways…” 

You huff a laugh at his words, and the little crease that was beginning to deepen between your brows seemingly disappears. He’s happy with that, but he can still pretty much smell the worry wafting off you in waves. 

“You wanna cut it short and head home? I don’t want to keep you when you’re not feeling well. I like my iii’s in tip top shape, you know.” 

He gasps dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest as his eyes widen. Gawking at you in the middle of the footpath, if anyone were to look over it would seem as if you had truly just broken his heart. 

“You know other iii’s?” 

You can’t help the cackle that rips from your throat. His dramatics never failing to get a laugh from you. 

“I… I just can’t believe this. Way to break a man’s heart. You know you really think you know someone. And then before you know it they have other iii’s in their life. I can’t do this…” 

The whole time, he’s got you in stitches. His dramatic, heart broken rambling just adding to the constant giggles erupting from your chest the longer he goes on. 

“You know what, you have a good day, with all of your other iii’s. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t mind me. Goodbye forever.” 

He yaps as he gently pushes past you to head back to the car. You follow closely behind him, picking up your steps to catch up to him. You quickly loop your arm with his and press the side of your face affectionately into his upper arm. Your cheeks hurt from smiling at his antics, and you gaze up at him with twinkling eyes. 

“You know you’re the only iii for me.”

The statement holds more weight to it than you’re hoping you let on, but with the way he looks down at you with slightly rosy cheeks, a big cheesy smile and eyes swimming with something you’re afraid to unpack, you worry for a moment he heard your secret loud and clear. 

“I know. And it’ll stay like that for the rest of forever, if I have any say in the matter.”

He retorts down at you, a lighthearted tone clear in his voice but you’d be willing to bet real money on the chance he’s being dead serious. 

You walk back to his car in a comfortable silence, your arm still looped through his and your face pressed into his arm. He’s fucking reeling above you, can barely bite back the grin that’s begging to break out on his lips. He keeps letting his eyes fall to you, adoring the way you look leant against him so comfortably. He might seem biased, and quite frankly he doesn’t give a hoot, but he swears you'd look so good if you were his. You already do. And sometimes he thinks you couldn’t possibly get more beautiful than you already are, but then he pictures you as his partner, not just his friend and you’re glowing. His dreams and visions might work out to be in his favour most of the time but he’s certain that you truly would glow standing next to him as his lover. He casts his eyes as you reach his car, he reaches for the passenger door and opens it up for you to slot yourself into. He watches you buckle up and get comfy before swinging the car door shut and making his way over to the driver's seat. He doesn't even have a second to put his own seatbelt on before you’re questioning him again.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to drive? I don’t mind giving ii a ring, you mentioned he was home today.” 

For a second there he forgets he even lied about that, he stares blankly at you trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about before he remembers and continues playing along.

“Don’t you worry, I’m well enough to drive you home at the very least. You think I’m gonna let short-ass interrupt the last few moments I have with you today? I feel bad enough I had to call it earlier than we planned.” 

You huff at him, partly for calling ii ‘short-ass’, poor dude can’t help his height. But also partly out of concern for iii’s guilt.

“iii you know damn well I’ll be seeing you again in a few days time. You don’t have to feel bad, just focus on feeling better. I told you, tip top shape.” 

He eyes you affectionately from his seat, giving you a soft smile that makes you feel a little better. He whips the car out of the parking spot and continues on back the way you came. Secretly, you’re fucking gutted. You love spending time with iii, you hate that you finally had a day of enjoying him on his own and it had to be cut short. You know it’s not his fault, poor guy probably feels like shit and he’s still making sure you’re getting home safe. The fact he wants to savour the car ride home alone with you sends thrills down your spine, you had to settle yourself down immediately the moment he said it. You would have smiled so big your cheeks cramped, you just know it. But still, your heart hurts a little. You can’t help the disappointment eating at you, and you’re sure iii can feel it, always so good at picking up on your moods. You silently remind yourself you’ll have him back again soon, hopefully on his own, you love the other guys but you’re a little selfish with iii. It’s nice when you can ogle him with heart eyes every time he turns his back to you without worrying about being caught. Vessel being the culprit for that one, he’s thrown you more questioning looks than you can remember over the time you’ve been in love with his bassist, yet you’ve never tried to be more careful. iii just has you forgetting where you are sometimes. Dangerous even when he’s not trying to be. 

The car ride is mostly silent, which usually isn’t all that weird. It’s easy for you and iii to slip into comfortable silence with each other when you know the other needs it, however this silence feels different. You’re sitting in his passenger seat, eyes cast out the window watching the city pass by as you try to fight off your sullen mood. And iii has crawled too deep into his own brain trying to talk himself out of the decision he’s made, a decision that could make or break his whole existence, a decision he thought he’d never make yet here he is. Both of you too distracted by your own thoughts, you don’t really pick up on the weird silence. 

He pulls into your driveway quicker than you wished he would have, you’re not ready to say your goodbyes to him just yet. It’s obvious he feels the same, usually when he’s got plans with you he’s bounding out of his seat and pulling you out of yours in seconds so he can get your plans started. But right now, especially given that your plans were cut a bit short today, you both linger in his car for a few moments too long. Slowly, you slide yourself out of the seat and shut the door behind you, him following suit and walking you to your front door. He drags his feet behind you, and waits next to you as you unlock the door and push it open. 

“You wanna come in? I can make you something that might make you feel better?”

And your offer is so tempting, because obviously he’s not sick from eating. But his anxiety is ramping up with each second that passes and it’s doing a number on him. He steels himself and shakes his head.

“No thank you love, I better get home to the guys. They can deal with me there, don’t need you seeing me at my worst.”

He offers you a little smile, but it doesn’t do much to make you feel any better. He can see your concern written on your face, he reads you like an open book. Within seconds he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, pulling you close to his chest and burying his nose into the top of your head. 

“I’m sorry about today Bub, I feel awful. I’ll make it up to you I promise. I’ve already got a plan.”

You can’t help the little giggle that flies from your lips at his eagerness to see you again, it causes a happy little smile to grow on your lips and in return, leaves iii’s heart racing inside his chest at the sight of it. He presses a big wet kiss to your hairline and pulls back, leaving you standing at your front door with slightly rosy cheeks. 

“You don’t owe me anything but your health, iii. Keep me posted, if I don’t hear from you I’ll knock your door down. I swear it.” 

He offers you his cheesiest grin, his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up. He’s just gorgeous, and you’ll never tire of seeing his beautiful face. The sight alone sends sparks down your spine and you have to remind yourself he’s still looking at you. 

“If you think I could go that long without pestering you, then you don’t know me at all. I’ll call you tonight love, pinky swear.” 

He sticks his pinky finger out between you both and looks at you with expectation clear on his face. You link your much smaller pinky finger with his and you each share a soft smile with the other. It’s a very cute moment, iii takes his pinky promises seriously so you know for sure, that even if the world was ending and he was on his last breaths… he would spend his last moments alive picking his phone up and dialing your number. His hand drops to his side and you both stand there for a moment, refusing to look away. It overwhelms you immediately, you can feel your cheeks darkening and nerves eating away at your insides within seconds. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth.

“Alright well, thanks for today iii. Talk soon.” 

You catch the way his face falls as you turn away from him and shut the door behind you. Sealing you off and hiding you away from his gaze, you kick yourself. You do this every time. Every time, after a wonderful day with iii, when every moment has been perfect and beautiful, you can never handle the weight of your own feelings and you quickly send him off before things go too far. The truth is, you are absolutely terrified of losing him. You freak out when things get a little soft between you two and you keep him at arms distance. You feel like a fucking fool every time, but you just can’t stop yourself. You’d never forgive yourself for things going south with iii because you couldn’t control your own feelings. So you always push him back a few steps every time you feel things tipping beyond friendship. You stand there with your forehead against the front door, trying to calm your racing heart. You hear him slowly walk back to his car, you feel horrible for leaving him there. You feel horrible every time it happens. But you just can’t risk losing him, you’d rather make yourself out to be a fool every single day of your life if it meant you’d never lose him. And you’re okay with that. It just has to be like that. 

iii stands at your front door, glaring at the blasted thing like it’s just stolen you from him entirely. There you go again, running off and acting like there’s not something there. You have to feel it. He feels cold. He forcibly blinks back tears that welled in his eyes the moment the door slammed shut behind you, casting his eyes to the sky to try and make them sink back to wherever it was they came from. He turns and drags his feet back to his car, it's empty without you in it. It’s quiet without you around, it’s cold without you stood next to him, where he swears you belong. He’s not doing this anymore. He throws himself into his car and reverses out of your driveway in seconds, taking off back towards the shops you two visited today. His heart is racing. He can feel his palms sticking to the steering wheel and he has to remind himself to breathe. He’s gonna do it. His decision is final. He’s not going to let you leave him cold and lonely one more time without answers. 

The whole drive back his mind is racing. Every single thought, being of you. He can’t help the doubt creeping from the pit in his stomach, up his spine and into his throat. He’s trying to flood himself with positives, thinking about how this is going to work and it’s going to go right. He tries not to, but he speeds down the street. He knows if you found out you’d scold him for it, but he needs to be quick. He’s turning up familiar roads, passing by shops you and him wandered past just a few hours prior. His eyes are wide and alert, trying to find the one he hasn’t stopped thinking about since you visited it today. The colours catch his eye first, and when the rest of the shop comes into view he almost parks the car on the footpath from how quickly he pulled into the vacant spot next to it. He rips his keys out of the ignition and whips his door open, throwing himself out of the seat and almost choking himself out in his own car because he didn’t unbuckle himself first. He grumbles about the bloody thing but doesn’t pay too much mind, he’s got more important matters at hand here. 

His feet hit the pavement and he jogs over to the florist, the same smell that almost took him out earlier welcomes him in now. The shop vendor eyes him curiously, iii doesn’t exactly blend into the crowd. If his height wasn’t recognisable enough, his interesting choice of fashion definitely is. And he’s positive the man running the cute little shop has a few questions running through his mind, partly as to why iii is back so soon, and also probably why on earth he’s skimming the few bouquets that have yet to be bought so frantically. iii looks manic. He feels it in all honesty, but if iii can acknowledge he feels a little off his chops right now he can only imagine what he looks like to a stranger. A bit of panic starts to set in because he isn’t immediately finding what he’s had his heart set on this whole time. His eyes meet the shop owners through the window and he all but bursts into the tiny room, words spilling out of his mouth before he can even say hello. 

“Blue… purple… it was out there before… I- I’m sorry, I just… I need that one, it was perfect I need it I’m so sorry-“

The shop owner can’t stop the smile that cracks at his lips, he turns to the small section of counter off the side, almost completely hidden away by the countless bouquets that sit upon it. Without a word he pulls the very bouquet iii has pictured himself giving to you for hours now. He could collapse. The sigh of relief that leaves him gets a chuckle from the man on the other side of the counter.

“Yes, yes that’s it. That’s… that’s the one thank you.”

iii is almost breathless, the panic of thinking his plan was about to turn to shit has dissipated, leaving him just a few moments of relief before the true anxiety settles in. The shop owner allows iii to pay for the flowers before wishing him luck and sending him on his way. He clutches them to his chest on the way back to his car, settling them in his passenger seat and buckling them in so they don’t roll about in the car on the way back to your house. He takes a moment to himself before leaving, he needs a deep breath and to sort his brain out before he sees you. His hands are trembling now, he tries to shake it off as he puts his car into drive and makes his way back through these streets for the fourth time today. 

The whole way back home he’s shitting himself. Anxiety has settled deep in chest and his stomach feels heavy. His palms sweat onto the steering wheel and he’s constantly having to wipe them on his jeans. He keeps screaming at himself to turn back to his own house and leave you alone, but he just can’t anymore. This is happening. He can’t decide if he wants to floor it back to you to get it over with quicker, or if he wants to take his time getting back so there’s more time between now and your potential rejection. The thought alone makes his throat tighten, he has to force deep breaths into his lungs just so he doesn’t throw up all over himself. He has never felt anxiety like this before. He’s never felt fear like this before. He might seem like someone who never worries about anything more than he needs too, but this could make or break his friendship with one of the best people in his life. If this doesn’t work he’s already considering fleeing the country. He knows how he’s going to break the news to Vessel and the guys, and he’ll be off to hide and wallow in his suffering for the rest of his life. He’s so deep in his sour thoughts that he doesn’t even realise the streets he’s traveling down are turning into the ones he’s traveled down countless times before. He’s on autopilot now, having made this very trip so many times to you he doesn’t even need to think about what way he’s going because he could do it blind. It isn’t until he’s pulling back up to your house that he realises the weight of the situation.

“Fuck… okay yeah fuck…”

He mumbles to himself as he turns into your driveway slowly and puts his car in park. He forces more deep breaths into his body before switching the car off and reaching over to unbuckle your precious flowers. He doesn’t let himself think about it, he throws himself out of his car, pockets his keys and makes his way on shaky legs to your door. His hand trembles as he reaches out to knock on your big wooden door, alerting you of his presence. No turning back now. More deep breaths. In out in out. He can hear you inside, making your way to him. His heart hammers in his chest. He hears the lock click open. His throat closes. He watches your beautiful face peak through the crack you’ve opened up. Confusion hits you immediately, because from your point of view you’ve got a face full of flowers and the most gorgeous pair of bright blue eyes peeking at you from over the bouquet. Of course you recognise him immediately, how could you not. But your hesitation kicks his brain into overdrive and he knows he needs to get his words out before it’s too late. 

“Don’t run. Please. Just let me explain.” 

His voice wobbles and it’s then you notice the slight tremble of the petals he’s hiding behind. His hands are shaking. Your face contorts and a frown pulls at your lips, your first thoughts being that something is wrong. 

“iii what… What's wrong? I thought you weren’t well.”

He can hear the worry in your voice and he panics, the last thing he wanted to do was freak you out or worry you. Although he knows you well enough to know that even if he took extra measures to try and avoid that, his efforts wouldn’t go very far. You’re his favourite overthinker, and he’ll spend the rest of his life soothing your racing thoughts if you asked him too. 

“Uhh… okay look I’m just going to say this all at your face and hope it goes well…”

A moment of silence passes between you both, you allowing him the time to gather his thoughts despite your growing worry with every passing second. And him allowing you to process that he’s about to drop a bomb on you. 

“I need you to know that no matter what happens today, you have been and always will be my best friend. I have cherished every single second with you but I’ve not been entirely honest with you and I can’t keep it from you anymore.”

You don’t move. iii has not cracked one joke or made some flirty comment to you the whole time he’s been speaking, the worry that something horrible has happened hits you and you blurt your words out before you can stop them.

“Are you leaving?”

Your voice breaks at the thought of it alone, and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. He drops the flowers to his side in shock and immediately reaches for you in an attempt to comfort you. 

“No! No no no, no love. Listen, just… just listen for a minute okay? I’m not going anywhere, I think… that might change depending on how this goes-“

He trails off at the end there and you just can’t take this suspense anymore. 

“Just spit it out iii you’re freaking me out.” 

The panic getting the better of you, again, blurting your words before thinking about how they’ll sound leaving your lips. But it’s clear this snaps him out of it because he looks right at you and-

“I’m in love with you.” 

Silence. 

Now your eyes are the size of dinner plates, but this time they fill with tears. You stand there, stuck in your doorway, staring at him. And he’s staring right back, frozen to his place at your doorstep screaming at himself internally. Begging you to say or do anything. 

“Love…?”

He asks you slowly, fear encapsulates his whole being and he feels as if he’s about to throw up on your shoes. He tries his hardest not too, that wouldn’t exactly get him any points in the love department and right now he’s scrambling for those points. He remembers the flowers he busted his ass to get and brings them up to you. Gently taking your hand and wrapping your fingers around the stems. His own hands trembling as he does so. You look down at them, and you realise they’re the flowers you fell in love with today. You came so close to buying them but couldn’t justify buying them for yourself so you let them go. And here they are, in your hands, with this silly silly man in front of you. He remembered. He noticed and he remembered. And he went all the way back in half the time it took you both to get there and back again just to get them for you. 

“Please say something.”

Your eyes snap to his right as a heavy tear drips down his cheek. This is real. It’s happening and it’s real and he’s in front of you. He looks like he’s at war. His eyes are miserable and his face shows no signs of life. You don’t move. No words come out.

You watch as he swallows thickly, nods quickly in acceptance of his unrequited love and turns away from you. He won’t stand here and beg you. He can’t bring himself to do it. To hear you tell him you don’t love him. He won’t be able to handle actually hearing you reject him. No words are better than words he’d never be able to forget, he supposes. iii is beyond devastated. He numbly walks back to his car and tries to blink his tears away. It didn’t work. He realises now he fully expected it too. He was positive it was going to work, he can’t believe it didn’t. All the flirting. All the special moments. The flowers. Those fucking horrid flowers. It’s over now, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. One thing is for sure, he’ll never look at a bunch of flowers the same ever again. 

You watch him get further and further away from you and it’s like a fire has been lit under your ass. You silently berate yourself. The one fucking moment you can’t think of what to say to him, and it just had to be during the single most vulnerable moment of iii’s life. You step off your doorstep and follow him to his car, your feet working overtime to get you there before he does. He hears it obviously, he snaps his body around to face you, you see the look of hope in his eyes. It’s clearer than the sky on a sunny day for Christ's sake. Fuck you’re so slow. You just watched his heart shatter and it’s your fault. He's fully facing you now, your flowers still clutched tightly in your hand and for a moment he thinks you’re about to smack him over the head with them. He’d let you. He deserves it. He’d let you drag him around by his ear and throw him into the dirt if it meant you’d stick around despite his foolishness. You don’t give him a second to prepare before you throw yourself at him. He catches you. Effortlessly, because of course he does. The confusion on his face doesn’t last long.

You smash your lips into his. Your free hand is in his hair keeping him close and his arms tighten around your body the moment his brain catches up. He holds you so close you’d think he was trying to become one. It almost hurts, but you don’t even care. He kisses you like you breathe life into him after a lifetime of living in misery. He kisses you like you are the only living thing on this planet that would keep him here. He kisses you like he’s spent his whole life loving you and it’s right now he realises you’ve loved him just as long. The kiss is deep. It’s messy and a little bit uncoordinated. You’re both so eager. There’s a lifetime of longing behind it. And the beginning of a new lifetime together hidden within each time your lips press back into each others. It’s wet. His tears slipping down his face get soaked into your skin every time he squishes his face into yours. You finally pull apart, positive your lips are red raw and swollen to an embarrassing level but you don’t have a moment to think about it because he’s pressing more kisses all over your face. He’s hiccuping. He’s sniffling. He’s smearing more wet tears into your face and he’s wearing the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“I love you, you tall freak. God I’m so sorry iii. I’m so sorry.”

You blurt as your own tears fill your eyes yet again. You’re apologising for more than just leaving him hanging back there. You know it. He knows it. It carries a lot of weight that you both definitely need to unpack. But right now you don’t care to, neither does he apparently because he doesn’t set you down. He keeps your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and his arms secured even tighter around your body. Pressed into his chest. Your hand somewhere on his body and your other still wrapped around your flowers. Those fucking flowers. The best idea he ever had. 

“Shut up I don’t even care- I mean I do care, but right now it’s not important we have more important things to catch up on.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Although you don’t think it would take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant, especially if the way he walks you both back to your front door and right back inside your house tells you anything, you’re willing to bet these ‘more important things’ involve a lifetime of kisses to catch up on. 

“W-wait iii… wait…”

You have to force his face from yours just to look at him properly, this man is on a mission right now. His cheeks are puffy from crying, his eyes still a little red. It breaks your heart yet makes it soar at the same time, you silently think youll never forgive yourself for breaking his fragile heart like you did before. You swear to yourself that you'll spend the rest of your life mending it. Despite his remaining tears, which truthfully, are happy tears now, he's still smiling. His cheeks most likely hurt but you'd bet he doesn't even care right now.

“You interrupt me after I finally get to kiss you. What kind of evil are you? This is killing me. I can't hold on much longer-”

He pretends you've wounded him, acting as if he's short of breath and every second he goes without his lips on yours is stripping years off his lifespan. You give him a light smack on the shoulder, still held up tightly in his arms. His dramatics will never die, so long as they keep that smile on your face. He gives you a look that tells you he is all ears. 

“I thought you were sick, what happened to this upset stomach of yours?”

The grin that grows on his lips is nothing shy of sheepish. His cheeks darken a little, although he knew it was most likely obvious he wasn't unwell, he didn't think you'd be so quick to catch on. 

“Heh, you know, I was just thinking the same thing. Look at us, so in sync already we are just made for each other. I guess I'm cured. Now back to it-” 

You stop him before he can get his wet lips back on yours, disappointment flashing in his eyes as you do so. 

“You are such a shit iii, i was fucking worried about you.”

He winces at your words, and settles you gently back on the floor in front of him. His hands still holding you, keeping you close. He might have put you down but you're a fool if you think you're taking even one step away from him. 

“I know, I know bub I’m so sorry. I couldn't come up with anything better, you would have worried anyway. I told you i would make it up to you, and one would argue i did quite the fucking job.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you like an idiot, because he knows he's right. You can't help the happy sigh that leaves you, nor can you stop the lovesick smile that adorns your lips when you look at him. Yeah. He made it up to you. You don't even need to admit it outloud, the way you look up at him tells him everything. 

“Right, now no more interruptions. We are busy. Say goodbye to your friends.”

His hand is intertwined with yours and he's making his way through your house like he owns the place. You let him drag you along, laughing at his odd words and so beyond over the moon this strange man loves you too. You take one last look at your flowers, before placing them down gently on a table nearby. You can't believe he noticed. Well you can, but he noticed because he loves you. You don't think youll ever get sick of remembering. 

He was right by the way. You're fucking glowing.

[laviefantasie]

Video 0.1

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“… know how this works”

Thump. Thump.

“Pretty sure you’ll break it like that”

“Oh, shut up, Shoko!”

A groan. A male laughter.

“Have you checked if it’s on?”

“Of course I have! How stupid do you think I am?”

Silence.

“I need new friends”

Laughter. Three in total.

“ Y/N, look on the bright side, you’re smarter than Satoru!”

“Hey!” Calls out another voice, “I’ll let you know I’m ver—”

“AHA!”

The blackness fades from view, everything becoming a blur because of the sudden light. Then the focus is on a video game console in someone’s hands, a Digimon game being played on it.

‘G A M E O V E R’ is written on big red letters on the screen.

“Did you just record me losing?!” An indignant voice exclaims at a close distance.

“Hey! It’s not my fault I finally figured out how this thing works” the voice, your voice, behind the recording device calls out, “It’s not like you ever really win anyways”

“HEY!”

The camera is grabbed abruptly and moved towards the source of the sound, a shriek leaving your lips from the sudden motion.

A white haired handsome (really tall) teenage boy with pale skin and dark circular glasses comes to view.

“To whoever sees this in the future: I ALWAYS WIN”

“Oh, get over yourself, Satoru”

An arm settles itself on Satoru’s shoulders, a tall handsome teenage boy with dark hair styled in a bun and purple eyes joins the panorama.

The pair of boys that sorta remind people of the yin and yang, personality and physical characteristics wise, start to bicker with one another making you sigh.

You decide to turn the camera around in your hands so you can come into view, making sure to turn the screen towards you so you can see yourself as you record. You sigh with a slight roll of your eyes and a small smile.

“Ignore them” you voice, “Once they start there is no stopping them”

The volume of their voices growing seems to support your argument.

“Anyways, I’m Y/L/N Y/N. If things go out well then you probably are my future children, but you never really know as a Jujutsu sorcerer so…” you shrug your shoulders, “I bought this videocamera to record our daily lives so that someday we can look back and laugh once more at Satoru!”

“HEY!”

You hadn’t even noticed the bickering had stopped making you jumped in your place at Gojo’s loud voice.

A female laughter is heard close and soon a beautiful short haired brunette with a beauty mark on her left cheek comes to view, a small smirk adorning her features.

“Please make sure you gift me a copy of all his stupidest moments for my birthday”

“HEY!” Satoru calls once again.

Ignored once again too.

“Of course, Shoko” you smile at her before looking once more at the camera, “This is Ieiri Shoko, my best friend EVER”

The black haired boy joins your other side, smiling with mischief.

“Well, well, Y/N, now you’re breaking my heart” he sighs faking sadness, “I haven’t even been properly given some screen time by you yet”

You laugh, “Now, ladies, get ready to be mesmerized! Or horrified… This is the better half of the pair of idiots I also call my best friends, Geto Suguru”

“Ouch. Not sure if i should be offended or… forget it, I’m offended”

You roll your eyes but soon let out a shriek as you stumble forward, not falling because of the pair of arms holding your waist tightly from behind.

“I WANT AN INTRODUCTION TOO”

A sigh.

“Gojo Satoru, better known as the other half of the pair of idiots I call my best friends”

“Ajem” he fake coughs.

You ignore it.

“Ajem” you ignore it, “Ajem! AJEM”

Shoko and Suguru try to stifle their laughters as much as they can.

“What, Satoru?”

“You didn’t introduce me well!” He whines, “You had to mention how I’m the strongest sorcerer and how you’re madly in love with me!”

“EXCUSE ME?!”

The camera’s view changes dramatically as it is lowered abruptly, showing only the white converse with Digimon characters on the side and the black combat boots.

Until Shoko grabs the videocamera and focuses it on Suguru and her for a second, signaling for silence with their fingers to their mouths, before turning it to focus once again on you and Satoru.

You who’s reprimanding the white-haired sorcerer, and him who’s looking at you with an adorable smile on his face.

It would sure be a series of interesting recordings.