#dan with a glass on his head

[dan-or-daniel]

[horsetailcurlers2]

if the original gossip girl had aired in 2023, dan and blair would’ve been endgame and chuck bass would’ve gone to prison.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 1.1: Unfamiliar.

Previously // Next - (chapter list)

Gavriel Huffman’s consciousness drifted back in pieces, slowly. The first sensation he registered was the pain. A throbbing, burning ache in his side that shot throughout his body with each ragged breath he took. His hand twitched reflexively, wanting to clutch at the wound, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

He groaned, eyelids fluttering open before having to close them as his blurry vision was assaulted by the bright sunlight peaking through the cracks of the window blinds. Gavriel winced, turning his head slightly to escape the light. The movement sent another jolt of pain lancing through his body making him grit his teeth. The pain, though familiar, was sharper now, less numbed by adrenaline.

His instincts screamed at him to assess his surroundings, and with great effort, he forced his unsteady vision to focus. What he saw made him slightly more awake with disoriented alarm.

The room was cozy. Unbearably so. The walls had warm tones of colors that made the room feel welcoming. The bed he laid on was draped in a checkered quilt with a few stitches here and there. It wasn't as feathery soft or as luxurious as the one he had back in his place, but the worn down cheap quality of it only made them feel more homely in comparison. The air was filled with a subtle, comforting scent, and the one Gavriel noticed immediately was the smell of baked goods.

It was the kind of room he had only ever seen through windows in neighborhoods he didn’t belong in.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. He didn’t belong here. The dissonance between his bleak, gritty world and this gentle, almost absurd comfort was jarring. It made his head spin, not just from the pain.

He hadn't been thinking very clearly then, but he could vaguely recall memories of the rain and the blood soaking into his clothes and him collapsing into unconsciousness, but everything after that was a blur. How had he ended up here?

Where the hell was he? His hand felt heavy as he reached up to touch the wound in his side, and he was surprised to find it wrapped in bandages. The dressing was hastily done.

He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his current state. His torso was bare, the bandages wrapped tight around his injury, and he was wearing pants that definitely weren’t his. The worn, clean fabric was more snug than anything he’d ever put on.

He frowns at this. Gavriel didn’t trust kindness. It's a luxury reserved for people who hadn’t been forced to scrape and claw their way through life.

With a grunt, he forced himself upright, teeth gritting as another wave of pain rippled throughout his body. He braced himself on the nightstand, the wooden surface creaking under his grip, and scanned the room for any signs of danger.

His eyes landed on a small framed photo on the nightstand. It showed a cheerful looking man with a wide goofy smile and a thumbs-up, standing next to… what he assumes to be his family, accompanied with a clean and comfortable-looking set of clothing sitting there waiting for him to wear alongside his glasses.

He reached out for it, seating the frame on his nose bridge and ears. Gavriel turned to squint at the image, something tugging in his head as he tried to place the face of that male toon. Then his mind flashed to the moment before he went unconscious. Someone had crouched down beside him when he was dying in that alleyway.

But why? The idea that someone had helped him, patched up a criminal covered in blood, was almost laughable. People didn’t do that for him- for them. At least, not in the place where he belongs.

Currently though, that wasn't his main concern. His dark eyes narrowed. Where the hell was his gun?

His fingers instinctively moved to his waist, but the comfort of the cold metal wasn't there. Gavriel sighed as a familiar wave of dullness washed over him, pulling him in a state of rumination. He was still hurt, still vulnerable, and that meant he was in danger, no matter how deceptively safe this place looked. He clenched his fists, not even giving a wince at the painful ache in his body.

All of this made him feel rather numb and confused, but it doesn't show on his face which he'd trained to never waver even in danger.

The dull ache of his wounds, the confusion of being in this unsettlingly mellow room, and the disorientation of having just woken up alive when he very well should've been dead in an alleyway somewhere. It all pressed down on him heavily. His mind felt like it was wrapped in fog, every thought coming in with a painful throb. He tried to think, to piece together why he hadn’t bled out in that alley.

He knew that his injuries had been severe enough to be fatal, the kind of wounds that left little hope for survival. A few hasty bandages and dressings wouldn’t have done much to stop the life bleeding out of his dying body.

Yet here he was, hurting but very much still alive. He rubbed his forehead, the motion sluggish from pain as he racked his brain for an answer. It wasn’t until he sat there for a hot minute that realization struck.

Oh, right. He was in a city reigned by the Toon genre.

It was common knowledge to all that the Toons leaned heavily on the whimsical side, or more specifically, it was the environment itself that exuded this sort of vitality. One that let its residents survive otherwise fatal mishaps with only a moment’s comedic daze and maybe a few tweeting birds circling their heads.

He couldn’t be bothered to recite the specifics of it. Something about places in the Toon genre having stronger healing properties or some nonsense like that. But now, in this moment, the absurdity wasn’t so easy to dismiss as it had been the very thing that had led to him surviving his death, a miracle in of itself.

Gavriel’s hand reached up to softly graze the large scar on the side of his neck, healed yet still deep and harrowing, which told stories of a much darker time. Touching it had been a habit he'd developed a long time ago in times of stress or simply whenever he contemplated.

He had no patience for the whimsical workings of this place, no desire to analyze the wonders or whatever it was that had saved him. The only thing that mattered to him was that it had and he's alive because of it.

It didn’t change his wariness though. If anything, it only made him more resolute to understand who had brought him here and why.

Then Gavriel hears the door click open.

---------------

Jack Desmond stepped into the bedroom, carefully balancing a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of warm porridge in the other. He didn't have anything special in his kitchen at the moment so he was only able to put together a simple meal, figuring that even the scariest man in the world deserved something warm and filling in his stomach to help him heal. That was, if the food hadn't already gone cold by the time he awoke.

Jack wore his usual friendly smile, ready to show the stranger some hospitality when he froze in confusion the moment he saw that the bed was empty.

“Huh?” Jack murmured, his brow furrowing. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of where the man might have gone, but there was nothing.

"Hugh!"

Coffee and porridge spilled to the ground as the cup and plate he'd been holding came crashing down on the ground, splattering everywhere.

Rough hands closed around his neck from behind. The force of the grip was firm, not quite strangling but strong enough to hold Jack in place.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples, his hair standing on its end. It felt like his heart was caught in his throat, he didn't even dare breathe too hard.

The presence behind him was suffocating, a dense aura of danger which didn't fit with the comfort of the room they were in.

The hand holding him didn’t need a weapon.

It didn't take much for Jack to instinctively realize that he was currently bordering the line of life and death, a primal understanding that this man could end him effortlessly if he choses to.

Jack’s throat bobbed as he tried to swallow but can't, his mouth dry as a desert. It was as if time had slowed down. He could feel his heart thundering inside, each beat thudding louder and louder in his ears as he stood there, unable to do anything but wait.

The silence was deafening. Jack's mind told him to yell, scream loudly for help, but he couldn’t even force out a sound.

Jack felt his breath hitch as the man’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the suffocating silence. The voice was hoarse from fatigue and pain, but it still carried a commanding weight to it as he spoke.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded, each word slow and deliberate, laced with a barely restrained irritation. "Where am I and why am I here?"

Despite the fear pressing down on him, Jack’s mind raced, and something other than terror roused his senses. He sniffs subconsciously, his nose picking up a change in the air. That sharp, metallic tang that made his stomach twist.

"I-I’ll tell you everything you want to know," he stammered. "But please, d-don’t move too much." He could smell it. The fresh, unmistakable scent of blood. "You're hurt, s-sir…"

With those words, the room fell into silence again. The man behind him didn't say anything, as if contemplating Jack’s words, yet the grip around Jack’s neck remained firm. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jack held his breath, waiting for a response as a cold bead of sweat rolls down his face.

Finally, after what felt like a forever, the grip released. Jack released his breath, silently gasping for air as his feet planted into the ground, trying to steady his balance after that terrifying experience. Slowly, he turns around, stumbling away slightly as he looks up to face the much larger man.

Gavriel stood there, towering over him with one hand clutching his wounded side, blood seeping through the bandages and staining his skin anew. With a shadow cast over his face, his sharp glare intensified.

His dark eyes narrowed, scarred face twisted into a pained look of irritation. Even when injured, such a sight would be enough to intimidate anyone with the sheer menace he radiated.

But as Jack’s heart raced in his chest, his gaze drifted almost unconsciously to Gavriel’s wound. The fear was still there, pressing down on Jack’s chest, but something else was too.

Concern.

The sight of the reopened wound stirred something deeply instinctive and kind in Jack, something that momentarily outweighed his terror. He couldn’t help it. Despite the terrifying glare, despite understanding that this man could kill him if he wanted to, Jack’s eyes lingered more on his injury rather than his scary appearance.

“You’re bleeding again,” Jack whispered, his voice small but genuine, before he presses his lips, meekly looking up to meet the man's eyes. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, his worry winning over self-preservation for just a second.

Gavriel’s glare remained unwavering, burning with a mix of suspicion and impatience. “Answer my questions,” he ordered.

Jack nodded quickly in agreement, returning his focus on the wound, which now had blood dripping from Gavriel’s side, pooling on the floor in droplets.

Jack frowns, a wave of empathy coursing through him, and he took a small step forward without thinking, wanting to help.

Gavriel reacted instantly, his expression souring like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back into a nasty snarl, and Jack immediately froze, eyes darting back to the man's face, his look carrying a clear message.

Don’t come any closer.

Jack was hesitant, but he took a shaky breath and showed Gavriel his palm, trying to show him that he meant no harm. “I just… I just want to help.” His eyes showed nothing but genuine concern, a warmth that was out of place in the tension.

For a moment, Gavriel didn’t move. His gaze bore into Jack with an intensity that made the toon feel exposed but Jack holds his ground, knowing that the man in front of him was in pain and had only been acting out of self preservation.

Jack cautiously inched closer, his hands still raised, palm facing upwards to try and ease the man that he wouldn't do anything bad to him. The closer he got, the more he could see the strain in Gavriel’s features. It was a silent battle between the pain and the effort to appear unwavering.

Finally, he reached the man’s side. Gavriel's eyes followed, but he didn’t stop him as Jack extended his palm towards him. Jack's hand flinches and hesitates for a second when Gavriel's grip on his wound tightened… Jack steels himself and gently touched the lower side of the man's hip, his fingers being stained with the blood that ran steadily down it.

Despite not being injured himself, Jack still winced sympathetically at the sight. Though Gavriel’s face showed no change, Jack didn’t miss the way the muscle around the injury flinched at his touch.

“Okay… okay.” Jack murmured, his voice soft but determined. His mind buzzed with worry, already trying to think of what he could do to keep the wound from worsening.

With a pang of dread, it finally dawned on him in fullness that this was only the beginning of him having to temporarily keep this dangerous man in his apartment.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long week.

[breannasfluff]

Danny’s funds are becoming increasingly slim and cutting back on food would be his first course of action. Except now there’s DeeDee to feed. He heads back to the bulletin board.

There’s a new advert up, Weed Pulling. Gloves Provided. The first call gets a busy signal, but when he tries again someone picks up. 

“Hi, I’m calling about the weed-pulling ad?”

“Are you strong?” a female voice asks.

“Er…yes?” Danny could pull on his ghost strength if he wasn’t obvious about it . 

“Can you be at the warehouse district on 220 tomorrow at 1?”

Because this is Gotham, he asks, “AM or PM?”

“AM. The weeds are weakest in the dark.”

Well, that sounds… shady as shit, as DeeDee would say. Still, pulling weeds can’t be too bad. Even if it is at night. In the warehouse district. Actually, this sounds like a bad idea–

As if the lady can hear the doubts in his head she says, “I’ll pay you $100 an hour.”

“Done.” Danny might have standards, but they include eating. At worst, he’ll use his ghost powers to escape.

The lady on the phone didn’t specify which warehouse, but it’s abundantly clear when Danny arrives. Vines are growing rampant over one of the buildings. 

“Are you the weed puller? I’m Pam.”

Danny turns to greet the speaker. She’s got red hair, glasses, and a baseball hat on. “I’m Dan.” Then he turns back to the warehouse. “That wouldn’t be your weed problem, would it?”

Pam joins him with a sigh, pulling off her glasses to clean them. “That would be it. It got a little…out of control.”

He doesn’t even want to know what made it grow to this size. It’s a localized Undergrowth all over again. Speaking of which… “Does it regenerate when cut?”

Pam turns to stare at him for a long moment. Maybe that’s a strange question to ask, even for Gotham. But then she says, “Yes. It’s too big for me to handle when it keeps growing back.”

With his ice powers, Danny could freeze the branches or even the base. From there, it would be a matter of pulling the vines off the building. Neither of which were feasible in his current form. 

He grimaces at the building. “Are you sticking around?”

Another long look. “I don’t care how you remove it if that’s what you are asking.”

“It’s not.”

Pam sucks her tongue against her teeth, then shrugs. “I could take a break for some tea. The area is empty tonight.”

Danny nods, already running logistics on how much time he’d need while keeping his powers less flashy. He’s not in Amity Park to simply blow the plant sky-high and call it a day. “Come back in two hours?”

“That’s a long tea break.”

“That’s a big weed.”

Pam stares, but Danny doesn’t back down. Finally, she shrugs again and hands him a pair of gloves. “Have fun weeding.” Her heels click on the pavement as she walks away.

Who wears heels at 1 AM for weeding? Probably the same people with building-sized weeds. 

Read the rest here!

[yvvxs]

Words of Affirmation...

‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

"You're beautiful." Argenti always tells you. It was true, and he would never lie about that to you. Because he found you beautiful, like a shining star in the sky that will never die out.

"Are you alright?" Arlan would ask, inspecting you for any wounds or injuries you may have had after the fight with the Antimatter Legion. It wasn't an easy task fighting them off, but he would make sure you were unharmed.

"I would wager everything for you." Aventurine would say, looking into your eyes. He cares about you, and he'd bet everything away just for you, your wellbeing, your happiness. He would give up the cornerstone, his IPC background, everything he ever owned just for you.

"Being with you makes living a bit more bearable." Blade admits, crossing his arms stubbornly. But below that facade, was a soft heart for you. Which loved you so dearly.

"Yer worth more than ma bounty." Boothill grins. To him, even a minute of your time, a minute of being in your presence was something more precious than any bounty he's had on his head.

"Let's have some fun!" Caelus says excitedly, pulling you by the wrist as the two of you go around the place, finding fun things to do together. Pranking people, going through trash cans, breaking some laws.

"Take a break if you need one." Dan Heng reminds in the middle of one of your trailblazing expeditions. He would be there to protect you from any possible dangers that would hurt you. He promises that silently.

"You did well." Dr. Ratio praises after the two of you study together. Your brain fried from all the information that you learned. But he made sure to give you a reward after all the work that you've put in.

"Here's a drink for you." Gallagher slides a glass your way, a personalized mix that was suited to your tastes. He remembered how sweet, how thick, and even how strong you liked your drinks. Making one just for you.

"I'll protect you." Gepard spoke, holding his weapon out beside himself. A silent reminder that his shield was there to keep you safe from any harm. And he'd make sure justice was served to those who have hurt you.

"Let's take a nap together." Jing Yuan requests, holding his arms out for you. He was finally done with his pending tasks, and it was time for a well-earned break with his beloved.

"You're pretty strong!" Luka encourages as the two of you train together, even if it's just for fun. He enjoys being with you, and swears you're strong enough to take him down.

"Shall we take a stroll?" Luocha invites you to go around with him. Spending some time together, not having to worry about any other pressing matters that the two of you had.

"Your dear Sampo Koski would never break your heart." He reassures you, making sure that you remembered that always. He would rather let himself get caught by the Guards than let him do that to you, ever.

"Would you like some tea?" Sunday offers, but he's already pouring the first glass for you. He loved you, and he'd make sure you were happy when you were with him.

"I'm proud of you." Welt smiles softly after you fix one of the problems at the current stop the Express was at. He really, really was, and he always will be. He just wanted to remind you of that fact.

↪ Some of them aren't very good at WoA so I'm sorry if this was subpar.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[aventurineswife]

Can I request Ratio, Moze, Aventurine, Sunday, Dan heng, Argenti and Jing Yuan involving their s/o or spouse in their exercise? Ill leave it up to creative freedom fr u but like the kisses when doing push ups or somehow practicing their attacks on their s/o in wholesome ways (just an idea but Churin doing the coin drop attack while his partner holds an umbrella above their head or something more wholesome)

-🍮♠

Love Is The Most Dangerous Strategy Of All

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Moze x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff, Romantic Moments, Established Relationship, Playful Banter, Combat Training, Sweet Gestures, Slow Dancing, Quiet Moments.

Warnings: Mild Violence (in sparring and training sequences), Themes of Emotional Vulnerability(?), Light Suggestive Content (kisses and teasing moments), Mentions of Intense Training Practices.

Ratio sat at his desk, papers scattered around him in an organized chaos. His long hours of intellectual pursuit often left him longing for an outlet, and today, he had come up with an idea. He glanced toward you, lounging on the couch, your eyes glimmering with curiosity.

"Would you like to join me in a mental exercise?" Ratio asked, the usual sarcasm in his tone replaced by something more playful.

You raised an eyebrow. "Mental exercise? What kind of game are we playing?"

Ratio’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses. He stood, stepping to a corner of the room, and retrieved a sleek board game filled with complex patterns and symbols, designed to challenge even the sharpest minds. "A game of logic and strategy. You will need to anticipate my every move—much like our relationship."

You laughed. "That sounds... dangerous."

"Only for those unprepared." Ratio smiled, his usual arrogance softened by the lightheartedness of the moment.

The game began, and Ratio’s mind whirred at full speed, trying to anticipate your every move. You were quick to catch on, forcing Ratio to keep up. At one point, after a particularly sharp maneuver, you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, catching him off guard.

"Consider that a victory." you teased.

Ratio smirked, adjusting his glasses. "Such tactics will not deter me. But... they may motivate me to work even harder."

The night was quiet, save for the soft hum of distant winds. Moze stood in the middle of a training ground, his blade drawn, eyes focused. You watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, concerned but intrigued.

"You’re being too hard on yourself." you called out softly.

Moze’s eyes flickered briefly, but his expression remained cold, impassive. He was practicing his shadow strikes—silent, swift, and deadly. You stepped forward, offering a gentle suggestion. "What if you let me help?"

Without a word, Moze nodded, moving toward you with eerie grace. He signaled for you to stand in the middle of the training area. “I won’t hurt you.” he said, though it sounded more like a command than a reassurance.

The training began. Moze’s strikes were fast, but he purposefully slowed them down, practicing his precision. You stood still and calm, evading each strike with fluid motion, barely moving a muscle.

After several attempts, Moze finally approached, his blade hovering near your neck. Instead of striking, he lowered his weapon, looking into your eyes.

"Perfect. You’re becoming as swift as shadows themselves."

He didn’t need to say more. You smiled, taking a brief pause to kiss him gently on the lips before stepping back. "And you’re finally letting go of the shadows, aren’t you?"

Aventurine grinned mischievously, twirling a coin between his fingers. You stood beneath a large, intricately designed umbrella, a slight frown tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Are you certain this is safe?" you asked, shifting your weight to one side as you adjusted the umbrella.

"Of course!" Aventurine said with a wink. "It’s all about the thrill of the game."

He took a deep breath and dropped the coin. With a fluid motion, he twirled his body, hands outstretched. The coin landed perfectly in his palm as he spun, effortlessly dodging the shower of raindrops that fell on you both.

You laughed, but it was a laugh filled with admiration, your gaze following his every move.

"Impressive," you said, watching him strike a dramatic pose with the umbrella still held above you. "Maybe I should take a gamble with you sometime."

Aventurine, ever the charmer, closed the distance between you and kissed you gently on the lips. "The best bet I’ve ever made is the one on you."

Sunday stood in a garden bathed in the soft glow of twilight, his coat flowing behind him like a royal cape. You stood nearby, watching him with admiration. Today, Sunday had chosen a more gentle form of exercise—a slow dance, a symbolic gesture for peace, a reflection of his own philosophy.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, extending his hand.

You smiled, taking it without hesitation, your fingers intertwining. As the music started, you moved in tandem, each step purposeful and elegant. Sunday’s eyes met yours with a quiet intensity, his every movement controlled, graceful.

"Feel the rhythm," Sunday whispered, spinning you under his arm. "Life, like dance, is about harmony."

The dance flowed seamlessly, your movements as one, until Sunday pulled you close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You are the perfect partner, in every way."

You smiled, your heart full, and kissed him back tenderly. "And you are the dream I never want to wake from."

Dan Heng stood at the training grounds, the spear in his hands. He was practicing a series of swift thrusts and spins, each movement calculated, precise. You stood by, leaning casually against a tree, watching with a mix of admiration and concern.

"Don’t overdo it!" you called out after a particularly powerful strike that sent a gust of wind rippling through the air.

Dan Heng paused, his stoic expression unchanged. He glanced at you, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’m fine." he replied softly.

However, it wasn’t long before he offered to let you join in. "Would you like to try?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. "With the spear?"

Dan Heng nodded. "It’s about control, not strength. Let me guide you."

With a gentle hand on your waist, Dan Heng showed you the proper stance, your bodies aligning in perfect symmetry. As you practiced together, Dan Heng’s stoic demeanor softened, the quiet moments filled with shared trust. After a few successful strikes, you smiled up at him.

"Not bad for someone who’s all about silence," you teased.

Dan Heng chuckled, albeit quietly. "It’s not about what’s said. It’s about what’s felt."

He kissed you lightly on the forehead, grateful for the peace you brought to his turbulent heart.

Argenti stood, his sword gleaming in the sunlight, the red fabric of his attire flowing in the breeze. You sat nearby, watching him intently. His expression was one of perfect concentration as he practiced his swings, each movement a deliberate attempt to maintain his sense of purity.

He turned to face you, his expression noble yet inviting. "Would you honor me by joining my exercises today? A bout of sparring, if it pleases you?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to fight me?"

Argenti's lips curved into a resolute smile, his eyes gleaming with unyielding determination. "Fear not, for I seek not to harm you, but to temper my resolve. It is the sanctity of honorable combat that stirs my soul."

With a gentle nod, you agreed, standing and grabbing a sparring sword. The match began, and Argenti’s movements were swift and graceful, the perfect blend of honor and beauty. Despite the intensity of the fight, he ensured every blow was controlled, never too harsh.

As you crossed blades, you suddenly spun and caught him off guard, knocking the sword from his hand. You stepped close, your breath mingling, before pressing a quick, teasing kiss to his lips.

"Seems like you need more practice," you teased.

Argenti inclined his head, his voice brimming with pride and humility. "I shall redouble my efforts and train with greater fervor to earn my place in our next match."

Jing Yuan stood in the training hall, his hands poised on the reins of his strategy. You stood before him, the subject of his training today.

"Shall we begin?" Jing Yuan asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You nodded, gripping the training blade he’d given you. As Jing Yuan moved through the motions, his calm demeanor was evident, but there was a playful undertone to his every move. His strikes were light but precise, testing your reflexes and balance.

At one point, as he parried an attack, Jing Yuan swept you into a spin and caught you in a gentle embrace, pulling you close.

"You are growing stronger," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I still hold the advantage in speed."

You grinned, your arms winding around him as you kissed him back. "We’ll see about that."

Jing Yuan’s laugh rumbled softly in his chest as he kissed you again, the warmth of the moment eclipsing the training. "I always look forward to our challenges."

[genshinluvr]

Disaster in Penacony

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You and the Astral Crew (minus Nanook) go to Penacony! Things end up not going well on your end and a mysterious blond man (who works for the IPC) oh so generously offers you his hotel room! Little did you know, you won't have the best experience in Penacony as a newcomer.

Note: I haven't played HSR's story quests in a long time (I'm still in Penacony), so this fic is most likely awful. I will not continue writing any HSR fanfics until I am fully caught up with the game itself. Newer fics will be shorter since it's been a little over a year since I have written or posted any fanfics— baby steps. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: I'm not caught up with HSR, so this fic is most likely ass. Possible mischaracterization of the newer characters 😞

Word Count: 5.2k

You cling tightly to March’s arms as you and the rest of the Astral Express crew enter The Reverie in Penacony. While the hotel is beautiful, the multiple stories make you feel nauseous. You did not know that the hotel has so many floors. Some areas of the hotel don’t have any railing— or at least one high enough to prevent people from falling.

“Are you alright? You don’t look too good, [Y/N],” March says, walking farther into The Reverie Hotel.

You shake your head, shutting your eyes tightly. You’re not enjoying the fact that you’re somewhere really high up. March sighs sympathetically, rubbing your back as she guides you to where the others are standing. Mr. Yang and Himeko are talking to the lobby manager to check everyone in the hotel and make sure the information provided is correct. 

March pats your back, “[Y/N], look! We’re safe away from the edge! There is a stable ground, and everyone is safe and sound!” 

You peek from March’s shoulder, eyeing your surroundings warily. Dan Heng and Caelus walk over to you and March, looking at you worriedly. You didn’t stop clinging to March’s arm since arriving at the hotel lobby, refusing to let go of her arms. While you can cling to Dan Heng or Caelus, you opted for March because she was the closest person to you when the Astral Express arrived at Penacony. March guides you over to an empty chair in the hotel lobby and sits you down.

Dan Heng and Caelus stand before you, making sure to shield your view of the precarious drop of The Reverie Hotel. After what feels like forever, you finally release March’s arm and bury your face into your knees. Caelus sighs, patting your head while you try to collect yourself. You’re not a fan of heights, not even a bit. Sure, you go on rollercoaster rides from time to time, but this is different. 

While drowning in fear and misery, you hear footsteps approaching over to where you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus are standing and sitting. You peek from your knees and stare at the ground, seeing familiar pairs of shoes come into your line of sight.

Mr. Yang sighs, “How is [Y/N] doing?” he asks.

“It's the same as before. They refuse to look up and have been attached by the hip with March since our arrival at The Reverie Hotel,” Caelus replies. “It’s a miracle March can drag them to this spot without them dying on the spot.”

Himeko giggles, walks over to where you’re sitting, and kneels before you, rubbing the back of your head. “You poor thing. Do you think you’ll be able to go to our hotel room once we have officially checked into the hotel?”

You peek up at Himeko, nodding. “Yeah! I can try! But I can’t promise anything, Himeko. Why does this hotel have so many floors?” You whisper.

Before Himeko can say anything, Dennis, the hotel lobby manager, approaches your group with a sheet of paper in his hand. “Mr. Welt Yang and Miss Himeko?” Dennis asks, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Everyone looks at each other, confused and worried, before Himeko and Mr. Yang walk over to the lobby manager. After giving yourself an internal pep talk, you let out a long sigh before standing up. March gasps softly, covering her mouth with her hand as she watches you. Dan Heng rolls his eyes at March’s reaction while Caelus shakes his head, chuckling under his breath.

“What’s with the reaction, March?” Caelus asks, lightly tapping March upside her head. 

March grumbles and glares at Caelus while rubbing the back of her head. “Hey! Watch the hair! You’re so annoying, Caelus!” March stands up and brushes the dust off her clothes. “How are you feeling, [Y/N]? Still as anxious as ever?” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. There’s no use in freaking out over heights— you and everyone else are already at the hotel lobby, and everyone is going to their rooms soon. Once you arrive at your room, you should be fine and dandy! Then, you can shower and nap before being dragged who knows where. 

You smile at March, though it ends up being a grimace, “I’m okay for now, March. I just wish that Nanook was here with us.”

While everyone on the Astral Express is currently at Penacony, Nanook, unfortunately, cannot join you and the rest of the Astral crew. Why? Nanook said something about having to deal with an unspecified situation and didn’t want you to get involved. You’re grateful that Nanook didn’t want you to get involved, but you’re disappointed he’s missing out on being at an interesting place like Penacony. However, what Nanook’s definitely not missing out on was this damn hotel because why the hell does it have so many stories?

“It’s okay! Sometimes, you and Nanook need to be away from each other! It’s good for couples to take a break from seeing each other if they spend waaaaay too much time together!” March says, patting your back.

Dan Heng coughs and clears his throat. “They’re not dating, March. Just because they spend time together does not mean something is going on between them.” Dan Heng looks mildly miffed— almost like he wants to smack March for saying that out loud.

March raises her eyebrows at Dan Heng. “Oh, really? Then how come I heard them—” 

“March!!” You screech, lunging towards the girl and covering her mouth with both your hands while she struggles against your grasp. You smile at Dan Heng and Caelus awkwardly. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel March lick your hand, trying to get you to release her. But you continue to cover her mouth while Dan Heng sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while Caelus stares at you two in horror.

“Please behave in public, you two. Other guests of The Reverie Hotel are staring at us,” Dan Heng mutters, looking around the hotel as if he doesn’t know you and March.

You grunt and release March from your grasp after she elbows you in the gut. You wipe your hand on your pants and glare at March, who sticks her tongue out at you with a shit-eating grin. You grumble to yourself before looking over at Mr. Yang and Himeko. Himeko gestures for your group to walk over, but the look on her face makes you not want to go over there.

March leans over to you, “Are we in trouble?” She whispers.

You shrug and approach Himeko anyway, with Dan Heng, Caelus, and March following close behind. As you approach where Himeko, Dennis, the lobby manager, and Mr. Yang, you realize they’re in an almost heated discussion. Mr. Yang looks unhappy, almost stressed. You and the trio behind you trade glances with each other.

Dan Heng clears his throat, grabbing their attention, “Is there a problem?”

Dennis laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes and no, but I’ll leave that to Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko to answer your questions,” Dennis says, taking a step back and gesturing to Mr. Yang and Himeko.

Everyone looks at Mr. Yang and Himeko anxiously. Caelus and March look at one another, knowing what’s about to come. It happened the first time they went to Penacony, and it’s most likely happening again, but this time, you and Dan Heng are present. 

Mr. Yang sighs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Himeko places a hand on Mr. Yang’s shoulders and smiles at him as if she’s telling him that she’s going to be the one to tell you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus what has happened. Although Mr. Yang is grateful for Himeko's wanting to explain the situation, he rejects the offer and gives the four of you a rundown of the situation.

Apparently, your information did not register in The Reverie Hotel’s system— like how it happened with Caelus in the past when they went to Penacony the first time. It’s strange how the same situation is being repeated, but this time, it’s happening to you. 

Dan Heng furrows his eyebrows, crosses his arms over his chest, and looks at Dennis. “Is it possible to book [Y/N] a spare hotel room in The Reverie Hotel?”

“No, it won’t be possible because all of the hotel rooms are completely booked,” Dennis replies, fumbling with his hands anxiously. “I apologize, but I have thoroughly checked the hotel’s system for Mx. [Y/N]’s information, and I cannot find anything in the system.”

You press your lips into a thin line before sighing in defeat. Perhaps this is your sign to return to the Astral Express. After all, you’re not fond of the design of the hotel. It’s beautiful, but the precarious heights make you feel queasy, and you don’t know how much longer you can stay in the lobby without spiraling. Plus, you miss your cabin and Nanook. 

You smile at Dennis and wave him off, “Oh, don’t feel bad! This is probably a sign for me to return to the Astral Express while everyone else stays and enjoys Penacony!” You’re getting ready to walk away from the group, but Caelus places both hands on your shoulders and drags you back to where you’re standing.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Mr. Yang says, nodding.

You nearly deflate at his response. It’s not like you didn’t want to stay in Penacony and enjoy a new environment! You don’t want to stay in The Reverie Hotel. You pucker your lips and nod, letting the group figure out another way to let you stay at the hotel. You sit on the arm rest of the couch in the lobby, staring at the red carpet of the hotel, zoning out.

A laugh captures your attention, making you look up to see a blond man approach you. He looks dazzling, almost luxurious. He takes his sunglasses off and lets them hang from his shirt. The blond man stops before your group, crossing his arms across his chest, and gazes at everyone with mirth. 

“Ah, so we’re having the same issues as last time, I see,” the blond man chuckles, shaking his head. “My, my, who do I have to give my room to this time?” He strokes his chin as his magenta and cyan eyes scan the group.

You freeze in your spot when you two lock eyes. For a split second, the blond man’s expression quickly changes before returning to the typical smugness he displayed earlier. Before he can say anything, a man and woman stand beside him. The new guests (?) have wings for ears… do they have ears? You slowly tilt to the side, trying to see if they have ears, but the man with grayish-blue hair narrows his eyes at you.

“Aventurine, Sunday, and Robin. What a pleasant surprise to see you three again!” Himeko says, smiling at the trio. 

Caelus leans to Dan Heng and March, “Is it really a pleasant surprise to see them? I mean, Robin, it’s good to see her again, but the other two?” Caelus mutters.

The blond man (Aventurine?) strides toward the nervous lobby manager, pulling him over to the desk while the grayish-blue-haired man and periwinkle-haired girl remain with your group. You can’t help but get this unsettling feeling in your gut. You squirm in your spot before getting up from the armrest and waddling over to where Mr. Yang is standing.

“What’s the matter?” Mr. Yang murmurs as you stand behind him and Himeko.

You shake your head, grabbing onto the back of his coat and looping your arm around Himeko’s arm. The man and woman stare at you— one being out of curiosity and the other being unreadable. The longer the grayish-blue-haired man stares at you, the more the unsettling feeling creeps over you. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something off about him. Other than the fact that he’s incredibly attractive, the angel wings for ears (does he have ears?) give him an illusion in a way— If that makes sense.

The periwinkle-haired girl approaches you, Mr. Yang, and Himeko. The gentle smile of hers puts you at ease, but the feeling is short lived when the grayish-blue-haired man stands beside her. The girl peeks from between Himeko and Mr. Yang, waving at you with the same sweet and gentle smile. Aeons, you can’t help but feel like a child meeting strangers for the first time.

“Hello! I’m Robin, and this,” she gestures to the stoic man beside her, “is Sunday, my brother! I see that you’re new to Penacony!” Robin looks ecstatic.

You nervously smile at Robin, debating whether you should come out from behind Mr. Yang and Himeko. “Hello, Robin and Sunday! It’s nice to meet you both! Please excuse me for my strange behavior. As you said earlier, I am new to Penacony and feeling overwhelmed.”

Robin’s eyes widen, giving you a sympathetic look. “Are you alright? I understand this is a new environment for you and all, but are you alright?” She takes a step closer.

The scary yet beautiful man beside Robin— his name is Sunday, holds his arm out in front of his sister, stopping her in her tracks. Robin looks at Sunday curiously as he continues to stare you down, almost as if he’s trying to read every part of you. From your facial expression to your body language— heck, maybe he’s trying to read your mind, too! Wait, can Sunday read your mind? He can’t, right?

Robin clears her throat, trying to grab Sunday’s attention. “Is there something wrong?”

Sunday lowers his arm and glances at Robin from the corner of his eyes before flashing a calm smile in your direction. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you can’t help but feel that he doesn’t necessarily like you. Maybe it’s all in your head, but who knows? “There’s no issue, dear sister. Although, I do not want you to startle our new guest here. They look overwhelmed,” Sunday says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Robin gives you another sympathetic smile before watching you get whisked away by Dan Heng and Caelus. While the trio (March, Caelus, and Dan Heng) are keeping you distracted from your fear of heights and the two good looking siblings, Mr. Yang and Himeko talk to Aventurine and Dennis a little longer. Robin and Sunday keep to themselves, occasionally talking with one another while not-so-subtly looking in your direction. 

After thirty minutes, Aventurine struts towards your group with a smug smile. “Due to a system error, I have decided to give you my hotel room,” Aventurine says, propping his hands on his hips while looking at you with his magenta-cyan eyes. “Come, come! I’ll show you where the room is!” Aventurine turns around and starts walking, gesturing for you to follow him. 

Aventurine graciously gives you a short tour around The Reverie Hotel. It’s beautiful, and you’re relieved that you didn’t have to be in an area where you’re very aware of the number of stories the hotel has. Walking past the VIP lounge, you can’t help but feel out of place, but you ignore the feeling and continue to follow after Aventurine with the others.

Needless to say, the hotel room is something you didn’t expect. There’s no bed, and there are more couches than beds. There is a seashell-looking bathtub—what is that, really? It’s filled with blue liquid, and bubbles are floating to the top. You turn to Aventurine, confused as hell. Aventurine chuckles and starts to explain everything to you and how things work in Penacony. Aside from the seashell bed bathtub thing, there’s no bathroom.

“— Does that make sense, Mx. [Y/N]?” Aventurine asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You blink and clear your throat, nodding. “Yes, Mr. Aventurine.”

Aventurine smiles, shaking his head. “There’s no need to call me Mr. Aventurine. Mx. [Y/N]. Aventurine is just fine. We are friends, correct?” He raises his eyebrows at you, the corner of his lips curving into a tiny smirk.

“If that’s the case, then there’s no need for you to call me Mx. [Y/N], Aventurine.”

Aventurine throws his head back, laughing. Your face warms the more he laughs and pats your shoulder. Dan Heng, March, and Caelus look at Aventurine with an indescribable look. They look like they’re judging the blond man. What’s his job occupation again? He’s part of the IPC, correct? Should you even trust Aventurine..?

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to tend to. [Y/N], I hope you enjoy your stay at The Reverie Hotel and look forward to seeing you in the Dreamscape.” Aventurine winks at you before exiting the hotel room.

The Dreamscape, huh? One by one, each person leaves your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sit at the edge of the tub (what is that thing, though? It’s not a bed, that’s for sure) and stare at the glowing blue liquid. So, this thing is supposed to transport you to Dreamscape? It won’t hurt to try it out, right?

You dip your feet into the glowing tub before slowly submerging yourself. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to soothe your racing thoughts and heart. You slowly lose consciousness, drifting off to Dreamscape.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“We’ve been here for who knows how long, and there are still no signs of [Y/N]. Are you sure they’re in Dreamscape?” March demands, crossing her arms over her chest. “They’re not picking up my phone calls or text messages!”

Himeko places her hand on March’s shoulders, “I’m sure [Y/N] is in Dreamscape. After all, it’s quite large, and [Y/N] is probably exploring around.”

Before March can respond, she sees Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus approach her and Himeko with new guests. March does a double-take and points at the new guests. Since when did someone contact these men? Unfortunately for you, Nanook isn’t with the group. “Poor [Y/N]... they’re going to be so disappointed that Nanook isn’t in Dreamscape with us. Can Aeons enter the Dreamscape?”

“Why did you bring an army of men to search for [Y/N]?” March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jing Yuan chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s good to see you again, March 7th. We were informed about [Y/N]’s sudden disappearance. How can we sit by and do nothing?” Jing Yuan asks, crossing his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at the pink-haired girl. 

The bustling city of Golden Hour is loud enough to deafen anyone who speaks. So, to be able to hear each other, Welt suggests going elsewhere to speak on the situation. Blade grumbles and glares at the person who bumps into him. The person stumbles out an apology before scurrying away.

Gepard clears his throat. “I can see why the assumption of [Y/N] getting lost is possible. Penacony is huge and lively.”

“Hey, this may sound like a craaaaazy concept, but why not stop by their hotel room at The Reverie Hotel before, I don’t know, check Dreamscape?” Sampo asks, brushing his fringe away from his eyes. 

Blade rolls his eyes, kicking over the advertisement sign. It flops over before scurrying around the group. Blade pulls out his sword, getting ready to hit the scurrying sign, but Luocha chuckles and stops him before he can pull his sword out. The sign continues to hop and mock Blade before running back to where it was previously.

Luocha hums, brushing his hair off his shoulders, and scans the lively environment. “Penacony is a strange yet interesting place. Perhaps [Y/N] got distracted by the things Penacony has to offer and ended up getting lost. I’m sure they’re fine.”

The large group continues to scour the area of Golden Hour, searching for the one important missing person who is not from their universe. The Penaconians and tourists from all over the galaxy walk past the group, muttering to themselves as they weave through Himeko and the others. Everyone is too immersed in Golden Hour to notice the distress the group is showing. Where in the world are you?

After searching high and low for your whereabouts, everybody is back at square one. Blade sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, wanting nothing more than to leave Penacony and its festive environment. Cars race by, and people are laughing and enjoying the Dreamscape. The environment can be overwhelming for newcomers. Perhaps you feel that way about Penacony and leave the Dreamscape without notifying the others about it.

“How are we sure that [Y/N] is still in the Dreamscape? Perhaps they never step foot in Golden Hour. Have you guys thought about that?” Blade asks, raising his eyebrows at the Astral Express crew.

“Huh, that could be a possibility…” Luka murmurs, stroking his chin. “How can we be sure if [Y/N] entered the Dreamscape?”

March groans loudly, running her hands through her hair, tempted to yank at the roots. “We can’t just keep standing here wondering where they are. We need to look everywhere for them because who knows what could have happened to them if we don’t search every nook and cranny!” March stomps her feet. 

Welt places a comforting hand on March’s shoulder, giving them a light squeeze. “Don’t worry, March. We will find them in no time.”

March sniffles, hugging herself. “How can I not worry about them? There are weird people here, and we can’t trust Sunday or Aventurine to find [Y/N] because they’re weirdos with weird intentions,” March grumbles, wiping the stray tear away.

Himeko walks over to March and pulls her into a hug. March buries her face in Himeko’s shoulders and hugs Himeko tightly. Everyone stands in silence, listening to the live chatter and cars driving in the background. It’s best for everyone to take a break from the search to clear their minds, or else they won’t be able to focus on the search.

Welt is sure that you’re safe somewhere in Penacony. The main issue is finding your exact location, and there is no way to reach out to you or pinpoint your exact location. Wherever you are in Penacony, everyone is determined to find you and bring you back to The Reverie Hotel before anything or anyone can get to you.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You peek from the cement planter, staring at the monsters in horror. They perk up and look in your direction, only to see nothing of the sort. You hug your knees to your chest, slowly peeking from the corner. When you arrive in Dreamscape, you are greeted with monsters. It wasn’t pleasant in the slightest, and you ran for your life. Of course, because this is your first time in Penacony, you don’t know where you are going, and this is where you end up— hiding behind cement planters, praying for someone to save your ass. 

You reach into your pocket to call for someone, only to come to the realization that it most definitely fell out of your pocket as you’re running for your life. You hear a shout and something falling to the ground. You peek from the corner once again to see a tall man with brown hair kicking the absolute shit out of the mechanical soda dog and other creatures you cannot identify. 

“Goddamn, who is that fine ass man?” You gasp, covering your mouth.

The man adjusts his tie and rubs the back of his neck before yawning into his hands. His right arm is littered with scars, one of the buttons of his shirt looks like it can snap off at any second, and he has bags underneath his eyes. The mysterious man sighs, walking in your direction. You slowly stand up, checking your surroundings for possible monsters lurking nearby. 

“What are you doing out here alone? It’s not safe here,” The man says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You clear your throat. “I, uh, woke up here, actually! The last thing I remember, aside from running for my life, was going into one of those bed, bathtub pods thingy at The Reverie Hotel, and here I am.”

“Hm. So, you never woke up in Golden Hour?” 

You shake your head, earning a sigh in response. “I would contact my friends, but I dropped my phone while running for my life. So, there’s no way for me to contact my friends, unfortunately, and it’s most likely they’re at Golden Hour.”

“Well, since you’re, I’m assuming, new to Penacony, I’ll take you to Dreamjolt Hostelry. From there, I can contact your friends to come and get you.” The man says nonchalantly, gesturing to you to follow him.

You trail behind the tall beefy man, surveying your surroundings. It’s beautiful and also really high up. It’s probably almost as bad as The Reverie Hotel, but it’s outdoors. The man stops in his tracks and looks at you with an amused yet tired look. You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights, wondering why he stopped out of nowhere. 

“Is there a problem?” You ask, worried he might leave you stranded wherever you’re at. 

The man chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no! No problems at all! However, I never got your name. My name’s Gallagher. I’m a security officer for the Bloodhound Family, and you are?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you pretend to look at the beautiful sky. “My name’s [Y/N]! It’s nice to know the name of my savior,” you say, trying to cool yourself down. At a time like this, you still manage to find someone attractive no matter how close you come to death. 

He smirks, “[Y/N], huh? It's good to finally pin a name on that pretty face of yours. Now, follow me.” Gallagher starts walking.

You stare at his back, eyes wide. You fan yourself to get rid of the heat settling on your cheeks, but the more you try to do so, the more your face becomes warmer. You’re okay, and you’re safe— all thanks to the Bloodhound Family’s security officer. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Upon arriving at the Dreamjolt Hostelry, Gallagher tells you to make yourself a home, and that is what you do. You sit at the bar, nursing a drink Gallagher made for you— nonalcoholic, of course. Gallagher steps away from the counter to make a phone call to Mr. Yang. As you’re sipping your drink, you hear a soft sigh behind you.

“My, my. You’re over here nursing a drink while your beloved Astral Express family is searching high and low for you.” Aventurine chuckles.

You turn around to see Aventurine, Sunday, and some violet-haired man. Sunday smiles at you, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. You press your lips into a thin line, pushing the drink away. You want to look for Gallagher, but you’re worried that if you turn around, one of them is going to snatch you up before Gallagher can say “SoulGlad.”

The violet-haired man rolls his eyes. “Ignore this bumbling fool. I’m here to inform you that your friends— The Astral Express Crew— are on their way to your location. That Security Officer called to inform them of your whereabouts. Needless to say, they’re relieved to hear that you’re safe and sound and have brought guests along with them.”

You smile at the violet-haired man warily, “Thank you for letting me know, uh…”

“Veritas Ratio— Dr. Ratio.” Dr. Ratio bows politely.

You look at Aventurine, who’s now standing much closer to you. You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at the blond man. Geez, just when you thought you were going to make new friends in Penacony, you ended up being wrong. These men are giving you weird vibes, but not in a good way. It’s such a shame that they’re so pretty. Dr. Ratio, on the other hand, is the lesser of two evils (Sunday and Aventurine).

“If you three are thinking of putting your hands on [Y/N], I highly suggest you don’t, or else you’ll be dealing with something worse than the Astral Crew and their new guests,” Gallagher interjects, now standing beside you.

Sunday exhales through his nostrils, narrowing his eyes at the Security Officer. “And what are you implying exactly, Gallagher? You’re going to be the one to protect them?”

Gallagher shrugs. “I saved and protected them from harm earlier. What makes you think I can’t do it again? Oh, and I wasn’t implying myself,” Gallagher chuckles.

“What are you—”

A deep voice interrupts Aventurine. “WHERE ARE THEY?”

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you peek over Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, and Sunday’s shoulders to see a familiar person storming into the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Your eyes widen, and you look at Gallagher, who shrugs in response.

“Nanook, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t come to Penacony.” You squeak. 

The Aeon of Destruction’s glare softens upon seeing you. Nanook walks toward you, pushing past the three men, and grabs you by the waist before hoisting you over his shoulders. Just when Sunday’s about to say something, Nanook glares at the man, causing him to close his mouth and glare at the Aeon of Destruction. Nanook smirks and shakes his head, walking to the entrance of Dream Hostelry. At the entrance stands the Astral Express Crew and new guests from Belobog, the Xianzhou Luofu. Wait, who is that redhead?

“I see the Aeon has made it to them before we did,” The redhead sighs.

You gesture to the redhead, confused, “Who’s this?” You ask.

“My name’s Argenti. I belong to the Knights of Beauty. It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Y/N], despite such circumstances,” Argenti bows, “It’s a relief to see you are safe and unharmed.” 

You awkwardly smile at Argenti, still on Nanook’s shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Argenti! Though, I wish we could’ve met differently.” 

“Yer lucky Gallagher was able to find you. Yer friends were close to putting up missing person’s posters all over Penacony if they didn’t find you by the end of the day.” A man wearing a cowboy hat chuckles, shaking his head.

“And you are…?” You trail off, suddenly feeling drained from the introductions. How many people have you met today? Aventurine, Argenti, Dr. Ratio, Robin, Sunday, Gallagher.

The cyborg cowboy tips his hat forward, winking at you. “The name’s Boothill. A pleasure to be at  your service, Mx. [Y/N].”

Himeko chuckles. “Alright, everyone! That is enough for today! I’m sure all of you can introduce yourselves to [Y/N] back at The Reverie Hotel (Reality). Poor [Y/N] probably feels drained from today and needs rest, isn’t that right?” Himeko looks at you. 

Nanook shakes his head. “We will be returning to the Astral Express, which is much safer for them. They can return to Penacony whenever, but I do not want them staying at the hotel.” Nanook states, glaring over at Aventurine, Sunday, and Dr. Ratio. 

Before anyone can interject, Nanook walks away with you still over his shoulders. You lay limp on Nanook’s shoulders, closing your eyes. You can’t wait to return to reality. Being chased by unknown creatures of Penacony sure did a number on you. You can’t wait to relax and sleep on a real bed with Nanook at the Astral Express. 

Note: Now that I got that out of the way, I am finally free!! I had this idea on my mind for a while and it was driving me crazy. I don't really like how this fic turned out, to be honest. Lowkey tempted not to post this, but I'll post it anyway since it's been a while. Next week's fic will not be Isekai'd!Reader fanfics for both Genshin and HSR. It'll be a commissioned fanfic instead, so that's going to be different. I'm going to try to post two fics a week in the future, but idk when. Anyway! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for this fic: Will not be tagging people in fics for now— at least for this fanfic

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[grimdarling69]

Another de aged Ellie and Dan or otherwise known as Crack

P1 P2 P3

Damian is now regretting every decision that led to where he was at this point in his half-life.

He felt so if he had been battered by a storm all night long and he was pretty sure he was having fever dreams because fucking Lex Luthor is currently dabbing at his head with a damp towel.

Come on, Damian. You're better than this. Get up and fight him. Father would be disappointed if I failed to stop whatever luthor was scheming because of a common cold. He could already see his father's face, his disappointment shrouded in the shadows created by the looming stalactites in the cave. He'd take away Robin, he lose Richard's first gift to him. He couldn't let his baba down.

He tried to shed the blankets but his body failed him and he had to resist a coughing fit. He shivered cold and clammy. His body felt heavy and his clothes were sticking to him uncomfortablely. His hair was a mess and clouded his vision.

"Rest now, ghostling. Your very sick. I need to get you into some new clothes and quickly." he murmured quietly, leaning forward and plying his bangs from his face. For a second he thought he was going to kiss his head and he started struggling again.

"Don't-" He attempted but his voice broke off into a coughing fit. He struggled to catch his breath.

"Shh.. shhh...drink." he gently lifted a glass of water with a childishly pinky bendy straw to his lips. His gentle voice and calm actions remindimg him of his baba and he stupidly started to drink it before he remembered where he was and resisted again.

Luthor didn't seem surprised but didn't attempt to speak to him again and gently pushed him back down onto the bed. His eyes were heavy and he had to repeatedly jerk his head to stay awake.

Ancients, what was wrong with him he was a trained assassin. Not to mention Robin he could survive days without even a second of sleep.

Luthor pushed the door open again and carried soft looking sleepwear in his hands. When did he leave? The sleepwear had little stars and moons and suns periodically spread about. He couldn't help but admire them.

"Please don't fight me, Dani- Damian. You have to get out of those drenched clothes. If you sleep in them, you'll just get sicker. Come on, you love the stars." He tried in vain to fight him off, but eventually Luthor was cringing at him, scratches all over his arms and face, holding the wet clothes in one hand.

"Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He turned the lights off and closed the door.

He waited a second to make sure he was actually gone. Once he was sure, he tried to wrangle him self off the bed but kept having to blink and rub his eyes. He had finally succeeded in getting out from under the blanket before he couldn't stay awake any longer and passed out from exhaustion.

---------

Vlad because he was Vlad Masters sometimes known as Vlad Plasmius or ugh the Wisconsin Ghost not Lex Luthor he had spent far to long redeeming himself and becoming a productive member of society to be reincarnated into a cruel ceo who cares only about his image and money and destroys the earth to make it. Creating pollution, ruining lives for no reason, abusing his powers, and trying to kill his archnemesis. Okay, maybe he was being a bit hypocritical, but he was redeemed already, and now he had to start all over!

Every villian worth their salt knows that archenemesiss are for life and he was a redeemed one for goodness sake. He may of fought his godson a lot in his early days but he had been alone for so long. He was a ghost they bonded by fighting! He also apologized for not realized that he didn't know ghost culture yet. He assumed he'd gotten a mentor ghost somewhere like he had the dairy king to teach him and once he realized he made him take lessons with that yeti docter of his.

He was the only one of his kind for decades and it certainly didn't help when his best friends abandoned him after killing him. Jasmine loved to physcoanalyze him she often tried to talk to him about his abandonment issues caused by his parents' deaths worsened by his older sister walking out on him and his future almost destroyed because of Jack Fenton and a fucking soda. That his obsession with Madelyn was caused by the fact he was desperate for family and latched onto the first thing that could give him one.

He didn't approve of cursing, he had kids-god-children that didn't need to hear it but he supposed he could excuse it just this once. Or twice.

When his godson had crashed into his island he felt the presence of his other kids but it was diluted almost. He hoped that whenever Damian woke up he could give him some context.

That was another thing. Somehow, his incredibly gifted and smart godson had apparently but reincarnated as Brucie Wayne's son. He could hardly believe it, but it was also worrying he had found some heavy scaring on him. Everywhere he was covered in scars, some had to be a decade old, at least. Whoever hurt his son was going to pay.

"Mr Luthor, sir?" His assistant knocked on his door.

Ugh, Luthor wasn't terrible he had to admit it had a nice ring to it was just-Lex?... disgusting.

"Come in."

"The um...children's cold medicine is here." She spoke unsure, but handed the specially ordered medicine over. It was brought over by a very good drone from the nearest industrialized island, perks of being a billionaire. He had even more money than in his previous life.

"Aw thank you, Susan." She blinked at him while he took the package she'd been with him since before Konner and so it was understandable she wasn't used to him just now caring to remember her name. Konner... he'll have to contact him to set up a meeting between his new son and his brother soon.

"Will you alert the chefs to cook a simple breakfast for us. No onions and no meat. He'll need to eat with this one. Have it brought to his room." He barely remembered that his godson won't be eating meat anymore after he remembered from one chance meeting at a gala but he had always hated onions and he was quite familiar with his rants about the texture of onions by now.

"Yes, sir. Right away" She quickly exited his office. He still wasn't used to humans being on his island, he typically only had animal ghosts with him or his kids if they weren't busy it was quite strange but he was trying to turn down his Vladness.

He stopped to grab a water bottle and started to head to Damian's room. He knocked on the door and waited. Dead silence met him, the white walls of the hallway was only makeing it worse. He forced himself to not think of the past, his whimpers while he had to stitch him together again for if he made to much sound they would hear him , while slowing opening the door.

He was thankfully asleep, and his fever seemed like it was going down. He packed up the damp towel and started to dab his forehead again. His eyes started to stir.

"Vlad?" His now much younger godson questioned looking even younger he seemed small for his age but he was like that in his past life too.

"I'm here." The sigh of relief spoke for itself. Damian stole the hand not currently in use, a familiar reminder that was common practice for them. His eyes closed again. He took the quiet moment to lament on each of his kids.

Jasmine, the oldest, once told him he was her rich and eccentric uncle. She never needed him in the ways her siblings did. She only lived with him on college breaks anyway. She never needed him to pay for her college, she had no shortage of scholarships. While he loved her, they were still distant. And then she was gone.

Dan, he had adopted him in his originak timeline after...an incident. Dan was always difficult in ways his siblings weren't. Dan was most similar to him, he was half of him afterall, and this often caused many different fights between them. Dan being full ghost often lived with Clockwork anyway. He'd always love him but things were always going to be messy between them.

Ellie, his blood daughter and Daniel's clone. The only one that outright considered him her father but she was very independent and he typically only saw her on weekends too busy traveling the world to have a movie night with her dear old dad. He loved her, but they fought alot she always wanted more independence and he just wanted to see his daughter.

Daniel or Damian now had always seemed to need him the most. Sticking around Amity Park even after the GIWs attack. Always asking questions about being a ghost or being an adult really. And even before that he could often find him somewhere in his house after his patrols around Amity he asked him a few times why he came around even before he had redeemed himself and could only ever get " because it's quiet but now you're here so I have to go. See ya fruitloop" and when Damian came to live with him his friends were usually there and sometimes he felt it was more a teenagers clubhouse than a mayoral manor. But he was really the only constant in his life. And in the beginning he was too injured to be alone, floating at the edge of fading away forever, so they were constantly together and they grew closer and as much as Vlad always saw him as a son he doubts Damian sees him as a father. Jack was his father and Madelyn was his mother. He knows that he still sees them as his parents even after everything he was willing to forgive them. He would never admitt it but sometimes he's glad they never came back as ghosts.

And konner...He wasn't really sure about him. He was his son, his clone he created with Superman. While he of course still had Luthors memories, and luthor seemed to love him but he often pushed him aside. He was second to his goal of killing Superman. He would have to work really hard to repair their relationship but first he needed to get to the Infinate Realms.

Soft knocking broke him out of his thoughts. " Come in."

"Sir. Your food has been prepared." Susan pushed in a large cart with 3 tiers. While this life seemed to be all about the pinnacle of opulence, his first was spent majority in bachelorhood, enough said about that.

She parked the cart close to the bed but not enough to be a hindrance. Damians eyes fluttered at the light but stayed still.

Susan looked at Damian in barely hidden concern and he could tell that Susan Darnaby, mother of three boys ranging from the ages of 24 to 15 had strong maternal instincts. Her oldest apparently worked at the Daily Planet and was apparently the main breadwinner of the family after his dad passed away a few years ago from cancer leaving the family in serious medical debt. He might have reread everybody's file and maybe everything he could find on them. The last thing he needed was one of his employees calling cps on him for stealing a child.

"He has already benefited from his rest last night, this medicine will have him in tip-top shape in no time. There's no need to worry." He attempted to reassurance her.

"Of course sir." For some reason she didn't look very reassured and with once last glance at their hands, left quietly.

"Whuz her." Damian mumbled from where his head was stuffed slightly beneath the pillow to block the light from getting in. He snickered and fixed the pillow. Damian pouted.

"My assistant, Susan. You know she has a son around your age." Damian looked positively scandalized.

"Vlad! I am not dating anyone that is affiliated with you!" He sat up and wacked him with the pillow.

"Oof. Ow." The pillow didn't really hit imhim hard it was worryingly gentle, something Damian would never hold back on he once challenged him to a pillow fight but stuffed his with rocks and we both ended up give each other stitches using the bathroom tiles to ice their bruises.

"You know i never said anything about dating, my boy. Now let's see what was prepared." Damians breakfast consisted of small cake like pancakes shaped like stars with bananas and blueberries arranged like a small constellation. While his was some larger normally shaped pancakes with sliced strawberries and bananas arranged around the outer rim. The other two tiers consisted of several scone and jams and of course clotted cream after on the second day Ellie went on a loud rant right outside the kitchen on how offended she was to not be served clotted cream. The last tier consisted of several small deserts and muffins. He even spotted Damian's favorite muffin, blueberry cheesecake. Or well in his previous life at least, he placed it on his plate anyway, couldn't hurt to try.

"I'm not really hungry." Damian waved him off.

"You have to eat to take this medicine and I know you haven't eaten since you flew in last night, or even longer. Most of this stuff we can cover up and leave out, so you can eat it later if you want." Damian hated when he used logic in his previous life but from what he can remember about his few meetings in this life he liked logic and academics and was quite ahead according to Brucie.

Damian begrudgingly ate the muffin, some fruits and a messily cream and raspberry jamed scone. He only had a bite off the corner star of the pancake before deciding he wasn't a fan of the recipe. Vlad ate both of his pancakes, most of the fruits on his plate, a chocolate muffin, and a cream and apple jam scone. Unfortunately the peace couldn't last because as soon as he deemed Damian had ate enough and gave him the medicine he decided now would be the time to talk.

" I think I'm pregnant." Damian stated calmly staring into his tea cup.

Vlad dropped his own cup and watched the beautiful fine china shatter.

"Your...What?" He spluttered.

"Technically incubation. Dan and Ellies bodies completely destabilized and I merged with their cores to save them. It's something Frostbite briefly taught me." He continued.

Thank god.

"Why didn't you just start with that like a normal person. Are you okay? Is anything hurting not feeling alright?" He could hear himself growing more frantic.

"I'm fine Vlad. There not parasites. Well ellie isn't atleast. We'll have to check with Frostbite for everything else, so we'll need to stsrt the portal as soon as possible"

"You'll need to take the medicine for at least a week before I let you start working around such heavy machinery, but i suppose you can do some calculations up here."

"What! I have to get to Frostbite. How do we know we're doing the right thing? What if...I...do something to hurt them." His voice grew quiet and he closed his eyes both arms came to reach across his stomach and his legs slightly raised and he started to hunch over himself.

"Oh, Damian. I've read about incubation before. Ghosts only allow them selves to merge in such a way with people they must truly trust. If they merged with you, nothing will go wrong. Nothing you can do will hurt them." He moved as he was speaking, sitting down on the bed now. Damian and him had reached the same height in his last life but now his new body was much larger, in both height and muscle, than Damians short height and lean muscle. Made even smaller by him shifting into a ball.

"I don't know. I still had so much to learn and what if we can't open the portal again?" He leaned into him his shoulder more level with his head.

"Have you no trust in your old man? I opened the portal on my own last time with only minor Fenton thievery, thank you. Besides,The only setback I've faced here are the corrupted ectoplasm pools." Damian snickered at him, so he knew his joke wasn't for naught. Until he went rigid suddenly.

"Wait what corrupted pools?"

"The green ectoplasm on this island has pooled together somehow and corrupted itself by laying dormant for sometime. Instrsd of the typical cool and chilling effects the green usually has it seems to be almost acid like. Bubbling and burning things, but I've constructed a purifier that seems to be working well enough." He explained quite confused by Damians sudden change in attitude.

"Why didn't I see i before? Ancients this is worse than i thought..." He stood up suddenly, beginning to pace and run his hands through his hair.

"Slow down. What's going on?" He questioned aiming for placading him, Damian needed rest and minimal stress while sick AND incubating two cores.

"The Lazurus Pits! Their corrupted ectoplasm! Grandfather harnassed them to bring the dead back and get pseudo immortality." He stopped dead at the last word but his back was to Vlad. He's never heard of Lazarus pits before...his grandfather? Thomas Wayne was immortality? But he's dead!

"Thomas Wayne is...immortal?" He questioned as such.

"What? What made you come to that insane conclusion?" He turned to face him, he looked concerned like Vlad was the crazy one muttering.

" Your grandfather?" He looked like a fish, blinking and moving his mouth like he wasn't sur what to say.

"That's actualy not even the craziest thing ive heard actually. No, Ra's al Ghul, the Demon Head is my maternal Grandfather, my mother is Talia al Ghul." What the fuck.

" Brucie Wayne slept with the demons daughter?" Damian couldn't hold back his laughter anymore and burst into laughter turning into a coughing fit, that shook his ribs, and he leant over like he wa going to fall. Vlad quickly moved to support him.

"I'm fine, fruitloop. I just need some water." Vlad steered him to lay back down on the bed. "Stop it fruitloop, your not even my..." he didn't need mind reading powers to know what he was going to say.

" I know." He still tucked him into bed. Moving to turn out the star nightlight out.

"Batman is my father. Batman is Bruce Wayne" I think I'm going to faint.

"The other..." "my siblings." "Of course, no matter what universe we're in you have a crazy family." " You can't talk you made a clone with your archenemy in both lives AND added your own DNA both times."

"It was an accident the first time!" He spluttered.

"Not the second time!" Damian returned.

"I think you need a nap, young man." He sassed.

"Vlad! I am not a baby!" He ignored that remark.

"I'll have Susan wake you up at lunchtime and we'll go to the lab. Is that acceptable for you?"

"Tch." Damian turned around and closed his eyes. He finally succeeded in turning off the lights.

"Sleep well, son." Closing the door softly.

Whatever was a half-ghost to do?

‐--------

Clark Kent was an avid hater of the waiting game. Although he was no stranger to it. It had been now a week since Damian disappeared. Tim had called his sons and broke the news. They had quicky wrapoed everything up and flew back. Jon had yelled at him for hours about having to hear about Damians disappearance from Tim. He just didn't know how to break the news to him. He knew Jon felt betrayed by him especially because they were finally stsrted healing their relationship after everything. Even worse because Jon had finally confided in him how he felt about Damian and now he didn't even tell him when he was kidnapped.

From what he's heard from Bruce, Jon can't hear his heartbeat, but knowing Lex he's most likely kept behind lead so not a totall loss of hope it just means they need detectives not supers.

So he was back at work after parting with Lois he had headed to the break room to get more coffee when he heard it.

"So what Lex has a few sick kids and you think child trafficking? We can't lose another income, mom. Ignore it. Please." He heard his coworker, one he often listened listened in to as his mother coincidentally worked at Lexcorp.

He focused his hearing onto the mother's voice on the other side of the phonecal.

" You don't get it. I can't just ignore it. He experimented on those kids then put them to bed like it was just another day. And then suddenly the kids are gone and the next day another kid is here? It's not right! Something is going on. Wveryday he wakes him up and they est breakfast then they go down to his private lab and dont come out till lunch sometimes until dinner. Last night they didn't come out till midnight and he carried the kid to his own bedroom. There's something going on and I've seen to many rich men take advantage of young children. I can't ignore this again."

Oh god, what if Bruce was wrong about Lex somehow figuring out his identity. What if he noticed him at a gala and took a liking to him. As a reporter he done countless stories on people in high positions who took advantage of their positions of authority to hurt kids. Lex had never seemed that way to him but how well did he really know him anyway? He had some kind of breakdown that changed him anyway. He needed to talk to someone who was familiar with people like this.

He has to call Jason.

A/n I took this chapter to hash out my thoughts on a redeemed father vlad and kis kids. Danny is obviously his favorite, but he does love all of his kids they just don't feel the need to stick around Amity Park like I think Danny would. Danny is also his character foil, and I wanted to tie in both parallels into both him and bruce with vlad. So that is not Canon vlads backstory but something i thought about with the fact he is desperate or obsessed with the idea of a family. Also, if you see any inconsisties between Damian and vlads' povs and the "attack," their might be a reason hint hint. I also wanted to say that vlad and lex are both quite similar in concept but vlad in my au decided to become better for his kids and to choose them first not like lex who loves kon in his own way but is still second to his own mission. vlad very much is more vlad than he is lex mostly because he sees himself in lex if he didn't choose his kids over villainy. While Damian and danny are now more of a mix between each other. I like to think that the danny that saw a random girl who just said she was his cousin and just rolled with it would just roll with the flow if he was reincarnated. I also wanted to bring up the fact that vlad and Damian will pick up the pace and be a lot more worried as you'll see next part and right now the bats are in a disarray trying to find him. Also the supers I only had Jon age up 2 years older than Damian cause he will be a bigger part of the story and I needed him older hint hint he has his mother's purple eyes in this story.

[its-avalon-08]

laughed it off (dr3)

✦ summary - y/n overhears danny's friends being mean about her and danny just laughs along.

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, fluffy ending

The sun was shining brightly as Daniel Ricciardo and his girlfriend, Y/N, enjoyed a perfect day on a luxurious yacht with a few of Daniel's close friends. The group was lively, laughter echoing across the deck as the boat sailed smoothly through the sparkling blue water.

Y/N, as usual, was at the center of the energy, cracking jokes, dancing to the music, and playfully splashing water at Daniel. Her infectious spirit matched Daniel's own perfectly—they were a dynamic duo, known for their shared enthusiasm and zest for life.

“C’mon, Danny, let’s see those dance moves!” Y/N teased, tugging at his hand to pull him onto the makeshift dance floor at the back of the yacht.

Daniel laughed, letting himself be pulled along. “You sure you’re ready to be out-danced by an Aussie, babe?” he teased back.

“Oh, please! I’ve seen you dance, remember?” Y/N winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

As they danced, one of Daniel’s friends, a guy Y/N hadn’t met until today, leaned over to the others and whispered something. Y/N couldn’t quite hear, but she noticed Daniel glance in their direction, his usual wide grin dimming slightly.

Feeling a bit parched, Y/N decided to grab a drink and headed toward the small bar set up near the front of the yacht. As she reached for a glass, she overheard a snippet of the conversation Daniel’s friends were having behind her, not realizing she was within earshot.

"Man, she's exhausting, isn't she?" one of them muttered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Can she ever sit still? I don't know how you put up with it, Dan."

Another friend chuckled, adding, "Yeah, it's like she's always on a sugar rush or something. Must be draining to be around that all the time."

Y/N froze, her hand gripping the glass tightly as her heart plummeted. She felt like someone had just punched her in the gut. They were talking about her. Her, the girl who had thought she was fitting in perfectly with Daniel's friends, being the life of the party. But now, all she could feel was a wave of humiliation crashing over her.

She glanced over at Daniel, hoping—praying—he would say something, defend her, tell them they were wrong. But instead, she saw him chuckle softly, looking a bit awkward but not saying anything to counter their remarks.

It was as if the ground had slipped out from beneath her. Her mind raced, trying to process what she had just heard and what it meant. Did Daniel really feel the same way? Was she too much? Was her energy that overwhelming?

She quickly composed herself, forcing a smile as she approached the group. Daniel noticed her coming and smiled at her, his eyes full of the usual warmth that always made her feel safe. But now, that warmth felt like a burning sting, a reminder of the words she had just overheard.

“Hey, babe,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I think I might need to sit this one out. I’m feeling a little queasy… Must be the sun.”

Daniel’s smile faltered with concern. “You okay, love? Do you need anything?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” she assured him quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just need to lie down for a bit.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and made her way to the lower deck, her heart heavy with a sadness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

time skip

Y/N couldn’t get off the yacht fast enough. She managed to keep a neutral expression during the ride home, but the moment she walked through the front door of their apartment, her carefully held composure began to crumble.

Maybe I am too much… Maybe I should tone it down… The thoughts whirled in her mind as she numbly kicked off her shoes and headed to the bedroom. Normally, she would have felt a twinge of guilt for leaving a gathering so abruptly, but all she felt now was a deep ache in her chest. She pulled out her laptop, trying to lose herself in work, anything to distract her from the sinking feeling in her heart.

The hours ticked by slowly, and before long, she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Daniel was home. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter.

“Y/N, I’m back!” Daniel’s voice was full of its usual cheer as he walked into the bedroom, expecting to see her bounding over to him with one of her trademark hugs and kisses. But instead, he found her sitting up in bed, her laptop on her lap, staring intently at the screen.

She glanced up at him and gave a small, forced smile. “Hey,” she said softly before returning her attention to the screen. “Just finishing up some work stuff.”

Daniel frowned, his heart sinking a little. That’s… different. Usually, Y/N would leap up and throw her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses and asking him about his day with an enthusiasm that always lifted his spirits. But tonight, there was none of that. Just a quick smile and back to work.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he approached the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice too calm, too controlled. “Just a bit tired.”

Daniel studied her for a moment, noticing how she avoided eye contact. Something’s off. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She wasn’t usually this distant.

“Alright,” he said slowly, leaning in to kiss the top of her head, but she barely reacted, just nodding absently as she continued to type away.

She must really be tired, he thought, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling settling in his chest. But it didn’t go away.

Later, as they both got ready for bed, the sense of wrongness only grew stronger. They usually had fun together during their nighttime routine, making goofy faces in the mirror or playfully shoving each other out of the way for space at the sink. But tonight, Y/N was eerily quiet, methodically brushing her teeth and washing her face without any of the usual banter. Daniel tried to catch her eye, to get her to laugh or smile, but she seemed lost in her thoughts, distant in a way that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

What happened today? he wondered as he watched her move about the room. He wanted to ask, to push for answers, but something told him now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want to pressure her if she wasn’t ready to talk.

When they finally climbed into bed, Daniel reached out to pull her into his arms like he did every night. But to his surprise, Y/N turned the other way, her back to him.

“Goodnight,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Goodnight,” Daniel replied, though his voice was thick with confusion. What’s going on?

As Y/N lay there, facing away from him, she stared blankly at the wall, her mind replaying the cruel words she had overheard on the yacht. Her chest tightened with each memory, the laughter, the dismissive comments, and worst of all, Daniel’s silence. How can he just laugh along? Do they all think that about me? Does he? The questions spun endlessly in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Daniel lay beside her, staring up at the ceiling, his heart heavy with worry. Something’s really wrong. I just don’t know what. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, but the way she had pulled away made him hesitate. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to bridge the sudden gap between them.

The silence stretched on between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved hurt. Neither of them slept easily that night.

time skip

Daniel woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, his hand instinctively reaching out for Y/N’s warm body beside him. But instead of finding her curled up against him as she usually was, his hand met cold, empty sheets. He blinked, groggy with sleep, his heart sinking as he registered the emptiness beside him. Where is she?

Yawning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. It wasn’t like Y/N to be up before him, especially on a weekend. They usually spent the morning lazing around in bed, entangled in each other, exchanging lazy kisses and talking about everything and nothing. But today, the bed felt too big, too empty.

He stumbled out of the bedroom, still half-asleep, and made his way to the living room, where he heard the familiar clinking of a spoon against a coffee mug. Y/N was standing by the kitchen counter, freshly showered, her hair still damp and clinging to her neck. She was wearing her running clothes, and Daniel realized with a pang that she must have gone for a run—something she usually only did later in the day, if at all.

“Morning,” she said, glancing up at him with a small, polite smile before turning back to her coffee.

Daniel frowned, the unease from last night gnawing at him again. No morning kiss, no joke about me being the sleepyhead… He missed the way she usually greeted him, bounding over with her signature enthusiasm and peppering his face with kisses until he was fully awake.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice laced with confusion as he walked over to her. “You’ve been out running?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Just needed to clear my head a bit.”

Daniel leaned against the counter, searching her face for any sign of what was wrong, but she kept her eyes trained on her mug, avoiding his gaze. Clear her head? Since when does she need to do that alone? He watched her carefully, noting how different she seemed—quieter, more subdued.

Usually, their mornings were filled with light-hearted banter, Y/N teasing him about his bedhead or him playfully tugging at her clothes as they tried to decide who got the shower first. Today, though, there was none of that. Just a few polite exchanges before Y/N quietly went back to whatever she was doing, leaving Daniel feeling more lost than ever.

Later, as they sat down for breakfast, Daniel noticed how Y/N barely spoke. She ate quietly, not her usual animated self who would chat non-stop about random topics or playfully steal food off his plate. When she finished, she simply got up, rinsed her plate, and headed to the living room without a word, leaving him alone at the table. This isn’t right. She’s never like this.

He followed her into the living room, where she had already settled on the couch with her laptop, focusing on some work. Normally, Sunday mornings were their time to cuddle up together and watch silly TV shows, often forgetting about the world outside. But today, Y/N was distant, absorbed in her work and not giving him the usual attention that he had come to cherish. Daniel sat down beside her, hoping she’d lean into him like she always did, but instead, she shifted slightly away, her focus still on the screen.

“Wanna watch something?” Daniel asked, trying to sound upbeat.

Y/N looked up briefly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Maybe later, I’ve got a lot to finish.”

Later? Daniel thought, the word stinging more than it should have. He leaned back into the couch, feeling the distance between them growing, an invisible barrier he didn’t know how to break.

As the day wore on, Daniel kept trying to bring her back, suggesting they go out for lunch or do something fun together, but each time, Y/N politely declined, claiming she was tired or had things to do. Every attempt he made to connect with her was met with that same polite, distant response, and it was driving him crazy.

This is not us. What happened? He replayed their last few days in his mind, searching for anything that could have caused this sudden change, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It was like she had just pulled away overnight, and he had no idea why.

By the time evening rolled around, the tension between them was palpable. Daniel couldn’t take it anymore. They were usually inseparable, laughing and joking even after long days, but now it felt like they were miles apart, even sitting on the same couch.

As Y/N stood up to put away her laptop, Daniel finally spoke, his voice tight with the anxiety that had been building inside him all day. “Y/N, we have to talk.”

Y/N froze, her back to him, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the laptop on the table. She had been dreading this moment, knowing that Daniel would eventually confront her about her behavior. But how could she explain the hurt she felt, the betrayal that had been gnawing at her since she overheard those cruel words?

She turned slowly to face him, her heart pounding in her chest, knowing she couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation. The look on Daniel’s face—the worry, the confusion—made her want to cry, but she held it in, biting her lip to keep her emotions at bay.

Daniel could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Y/N stand there, her back still partially turned to him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to understand what was going on.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice softer now, “what’s wrong? Please, talk to me. I feel like you’re a million miles away.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to let the emotions she had been bottling up spill over, but the concern in Daniel’s voice was too much. She turned around fully, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, the dam broke.

“Daniel, I—I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay,” she said, her voice trembling. “I heard them. I heard what your friends said about me on the yacht.”

Daniel’s stomach dropped as her words registered. “What? What did they say?”

“They… they called me exhausting,” Y/N choked out, tears welling up in her eyes. “They said I’m too much, that I never sit still. And you… you just laughed along, Daniel. You didn’t say anything.”

Daniel felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He remembered the conversation now, the way his friends had made those offhanded comments, but at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think she heard.

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, stepping closer to her, reaching out to hold her, but she took a step back, shaking her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“No, Daniel. You don’t understand. That hurt. So much,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I thought I was fitting in, I thought they liked me. But to hear them say that… And then to see you just… go along with it? It broke my heart.”

Daniel’s eyes filled with tears as he watched her break down, each of her words cutting deeper into him. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so broken, and it shattered him to know he had a part in causing it.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think… I should have said something. I should have defended you. But I didn’t think they were serious. I didn’t think it would hurt you like this.”

“That’s the problem, Daniel!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising with the pain she had been holding back. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think about how it would make me feel, how it would tear me apart to hear the people you care about think so little of me. And you just stood there, laughing with them, like it was okay.”

Daniel’s heart ached as he saw the tears streaming down her face, the hurt in her eyes so raw, so deep. “Y/N, you have to believe me, I love you just the way you are,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “You’re not too much for me. You’re everything. I love your energy, your spirit. It’s what drew me to you in the first place. I don’t want you to change. Not for them, not for anyone.”

“But you didn’t say that,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by her sobs. “You didn’t say anything. And now I feel like… like I’m too much, even for you. I feel like I don’t belong, like I’m just a burden.”

“No, no,” Daniel shook his head frantically, desperate to make her understand. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re my everything. I should have stood up for you. I should have told them how amazing you are, how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, don’t think for a second that you’re too much for me.”

Y/N’s knees gave out, and she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body. “It just hurt so much, Daniel. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt so… unwanted.”

Daniel was on the floor beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms despite her initial resistance. He held her tightly, his own tears falling freely now as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“You are wanted, Y/N,” he whispered fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. “You are loved. I love you. I need you. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you from that. I never wanted to make you feel unwanted or unloved. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

Y/N clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt as she cried out all the pain and hurt she had been holding inside. Daniel rocked her gently, whispering apologies and reassurances, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped her lips.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered, kissing her hair, her forehead, anywhere he could reach. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll never let you feel like this again.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, tangled together on the floor, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. The weight of the day’s hurtful words slowly lifted as Daniel poured his heart out to her, begging for her forgiveness, for a chance to make things right.

And in that moment, Y/N knew that despite the pain, despite the heartbreak, Daniel’s love was real. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way he whispered her name like it was the most precious thing in the world. But the hurt was still there, lingering beneath the surface, a reminder that words—whether spoken or left unsaid—had the power to break even the strongest of hearts.

time skip

After what felt like hours of clinging to each other on the floor, Daniel and Y/N finally moved to the couch. The exhaustion from the emotional storm that had passed left them both drained, but neither could bear to be apart. Y/N nestled into Daniel's side, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around her. The room was quiet now, the only sound being their slow, steady breathing as they tried to find some semblance of peace in each other’s embrace.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, but her mind was still racing. The warmth of Daniel’s body against hers was comforting, but the memories of the hurtful words she had heard kept playing in her mind. Yet, she could also feel the sincerity in Daniel’s touch, the way his hands never stopped moving, as if he were afraid to let her go. She could tell he was struggling too, and that realization tugged at her heart.

As they lay there, the silence between them filled with unspoken apologies and lingering pain, Y/N suddenly felt something wet against her temple. She shifted slightly, tilting her head up to see Daniel’s face, and her heart clenched at the sight of tears streaming down his cheeks. His usually bright eyes were glassy, the usual spark in them dimmed by guilt and sorrow.

“Danny?” she whispered, concern flooding her voice.

Daniel didn’t respond right away, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but the tears kept coming, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. His grip on her tightened as if holding her close would somehow undo the pain he had caused.

Without thinking, Y/N climbed onto his lap, straddling him so she could face him fully. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall. The sight of him like this—so broken, so vulnerable—made her chest ache. She had never seen him cry like this before, and it tore at her heartstrings in a way she couldn’t describe.

“Danny, please,” she murmured, her voice soft and pleading. “Don’t cry.”

But Daniel shook his head, his tears blurring his vision as he looked at her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he choked out, his voice thick with anguish. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I hurt you like that. I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve told them to shut up. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I just… I failed you.”

“Danny…” Y/N’s voice broke as she tried to comfort him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as they both tried to steady themselves.

“I love you so much,” Daniel continued, his voice cracking with each word. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I hate myself for making you feel anything less than that. You’re perfect just the way you are, Y/N. I don’t want you to change, not ever. I’m so sorry I let you down. Please, please forgive me.”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her own eyes again, her heart breaking all over at the sheer desperation in his voice. She could see how much this was tearing him apart, how much he regretted what had happened, and it made her realize that he was hurting just as much as she was.

“Danny,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she gently kissed his forehead, then his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears on her lips. “I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I forgive you, okay? I forgive you.”

Daniel let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cradle her face as if he were afraid she might slip away. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I don’t deserve how understanding you are, how forgiving. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N replied, her voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. “You’re everything to me, Danny. I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we’re perfect for each other. And that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this, okay? Together.”

Daniel nodded, his lips trembling as he pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ll do anything to make this right. I just need you to know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re my whole world, Y/N.”

Y/N tightened her hold on him, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him close. “I love you too, Danny,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’m here too. We’ll be okay. We will.”

For a long moment, they just held each other, their tears mingling as they clung to the comfort of being together, of knowing that despite everything, their love was strong enough to weather the storm. Slowly, the tension between them began to ease, replaced by the quiet reassurance that they had each other, and that was enough.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Daniel pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his tears finally beginning to subside. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for forgiving me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me.”

Y/N nodded, her own tears finally slowing as she felt the sincerity in his words. “Just don’t ever shut me out again,” she whispered. “We’re in this together, Danny. Always.”

“Always,” Daniel echoed, his voice filled with a promise as he kissed her gently, sealing the words between them.

[greenpurplemylove]

What Lovers Do (PJS)♥️

→ masterlist.

→ pairings: non idol! situationship! jay x female! reader.

synopsis: There was only one thing left to do when two friends finally confess that they like each other after all the endless chasing about and beating around the bush. Though it wasn't like how it traditionally went, like on a bed or in a fancy hotel room. You and Jay knew it would be wasteful to go back to yours or his apartment, not when the view of the beach at 02:00 AM in the morning hits different.

→ genre: friends to lovers! smut, and fluff. -> now playing: Diet Pepsi, Addison Rae/Forrest Gump, Frank Ocean.

-> wc: 5,8k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, car sex, car sex by the beach, dom! jay x sub! slightly switch! reader, slight cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), creampie, fingering, mutual masturbation, mentions of skinny dipping and pet names (baby, pretty girl, darling).

-> A/N: after a season of midterms, a breakup and a series of procrastinations later, I've finally completed the last chapter. good news is y'all don't rly have to read part 1 dan part 2 (but if you want to, I'd say be my guest honestly) to understand what's going on in this story cause this is like smut with very little plot. this is my first smut ever so anyways I'm rly sorry if it isn't perfect, nonetheless I do hope y'all enjoy it though. much love, Cher🫶

♥️

Seeing two people being in denial that they’re actually obsessed with each other is frustrating.

Especially if those two people are practically close friends.

Take you and your friend, Park Jongseong, for example.

You’ve been friends with Park Jongseong since freshman year of college.

Maybe it was due to the fact that your friend groups were practically mushed together and that you’d more often than not end up in the same class he was taking.

With what originally started with strictly exchanging the notes you took during class, slowly melted away into long and deep texts, conversations, even playful arguments about each others pasts and interests.

But what he didn’t know was that you’ve always secretly admired him.

At first you didn’t want to think the admiration you had for him was romantic, but overtime it grew difficult for you to maintain a merely platonic admiration.

He was a nice guy you have to admit, and the fact that he was practically gorgeous made things all the more difficult for you in maintaining that so called ‘platonic’ gaze.

And it didn’t help with the fact that he was such a gentleman to you as well.

Always opened doors for you.

Paying extra attention towards you whenever you needed his help.

And always letting you order first whenever you needed to go somewhere for lunch in between classes.

Even offering to pay for your meals.

It was difficult. Very difficult, for you to not fall for him.

You find yourself looking at him from afar with rose tinted glasses, your day got a little brighter every time the two of you exchanged glances and smiles,

your heart would skip a beat every time his name was mentioned in any given situation,

and most importantly, you wanted to be near him all the time.

Naturally, you grew closer to him.

Overtime it felt strange, how you noticed his smile seemed to linger longer whenever he was looking in to you so deeply,

or how close your bodies were whenever you’d talk to him for an extended period of time.

The questions started to beckon in your head, was this his way of flirting with you?

And to answer that question. Yes, yes it was.

The reason being none other than because he has a crush on you. But being the outwardly cold person that he is, he didn’t wanted to admit that.

Cause there’s a small part of him that was a little scared you wouldn’t feel the same way he did.

He’d look at you from afar and a small smile would creep onto his face.

He would think about how pretty you looked on that day before he fell asleep at night.

And you’d be the first person that comes to his mind the moment he opens his eyes the next morning.

He would pay extra attention to the things you liked and didn’t like. Memorizing your favorite lunch order. Always saving a seat for you next to him.

Always saving an extra gum in his bag because he knows you’d sometimes forget to bring yours to class,

and that he knows you have this bad habit of chewing the cap of your pen in the middle of class whenever you forgot to bring in your gum.

Mind you he also initially wanted to keep things platonic in fear of ruining the bond you’ve pretty much grown into overtime, but it was hard to keep those feelings at bay when you’re always so close to him.

After a while of teasing, lingering smiles, and small flirtatious gestures. You both were still in denial if wether or not the feeling was mutual.

It wasn’t until one drunk night at Sunghoon’s house, where you basically made out and almost had sex with him on Sunghoon’s upstairs couch that made you realize that you both felt the same way about each other.

Well, knowing he didn’t push you away when you were practically sitting on his lap and guiding his hand up your shirt and all.

After that night you both knew you couldn’t just pretend that it never happened,

so, stupidly enough, the two of you kept on teasing each other for a little while.

Hinting bits and pieces of your private lives, purposefully making the other jealous in hopes that the other would confess first because the both of you were stubborn as hell about your feelings.

When the both of you know fully well, you would be down to fuck from dusk to dawn.

It felt like playing a chess game with Jay during those times.

A romantic, for the most parts sexual tension filled game of chess with Jay.

And yet all the games, all the strategies, plans and moves you had all up in your head with Jay has led you here.

Half naked on his lap in his car by the beach at 2 AM, with his lips messily clinging to yours.

Both of your cheeks flushed. Breaths heavy as the windows started to fog. With his hands fondling with your bare breasts.

Your arms clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as your both tongue deep into the kiss.

You both knew at one point it’ll all lead up to this.

But that never stopped either one of you from pushing the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ more and more.

From the longing stares and touches across the hallways to the private moments that had you on the edge of your seat.

All of those moments has led you here, with your body sensually placed on top of his.

“Jay.” you moaned his name softly when you felt his thumb swiping against your hardened nipples as he trailed kisses from your jaw before nipping the back of your ear.

He felt his pants getting tighter by the minute, his dick growing hard at the sound of you moaning his name.

His hands traveled lower and lower down your pants as his palms settled on your ass making you gasp silently, while his mouth travelled down to your neck.

Kissing and sucking on it feverishly as if he was pouring all of his pent up desire to you after all this time.

“So pretty for me y/n.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a light trail of hickeys down your neck as your fingers caressed the back of his hair before trailing to the hem of his shirt.

Sneakily putting your fingers below the hem just to feel his bare skin against the palm of your hand.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he pulled away, a playful smirk plastered onto his face as he sat up straight.

His hands trailed down to the bottom hem of his shirt but not before your hands replaced what was supposed to be his.

He looked at you surprised by your boldness as you took of his shirt, the muscles on his chest and arms contorting as you did,

feeling the tent that was forming in your panties grow wetter as you discarded his shirt to the side.

The sound of the ocean behind you long blurred into the background as he smiled up at you, caressing your thighs as he watched your every move.

Leaning back onto the chair behind him, your fingers caressed the abdomen of his chest,

feeling his chest rising and falling as his honey like skin emitted an inviting glow under the moonlight.

Your finger trailed lower and lower, from his toned stomach to the buckle of his belt,

lacing your fingers on to it.

You wanted to remove his belt from his pants, that was until his hand held yours, stopping you from going any further.

“I think I can handle that y/n.” he spoke in a sultry tone as he eyed your fingers, caressing them gently before undoing his belt.

Your hands then trailed slowly from the fabric under his belt, to the fabric that covered his prominent bulge.

Purposefully teasing him as you traced your fingers around his bulge.

His breath hitched in his throat as he leaned his head back and sighed, feeling your fingertips undressing his pants.

“I thought couples help take their partners clothes off when they’re gonna have sex?” you murmured as you flashed him a smirk.

“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he teased, grinning at you flirtatiously.

You sighed in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

You knew he was the type of person who’d tease from time to time, but you never thought he’d tease you at a time where you were completely vulnerable to him.

“Are you really gonna tease me at a time like this?” you whispered as your lips curl into a small sly smile while your fingers caressed his hair.

He smiled at you before he sat up straight, cupping your cheeks as he captured your lips in his.

Passion surging over you as your hands wrapped around his neck, taking his lips in deeper.

His hands soon trailed down from your body to your hips, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing his fingers to the button of your pants,

unbuttoning it and gently, stripping it off of your body as your purple lacy underwear came into view.

Pulling away from your lips, his eyes soon caught the attention of your undergarments,

pupils dilating as his fingers traced the hem of it, groaning as his eyes rolled back as your hips came down to grind on his clothed cock.

Purple. His favorite color.

Whether you intentionally wore it for him or out of pure coincidence, it made him incredibly harder than he already was before.

So hard that his pants felt uncomfortable against his now fully hardened cock.

But he knew better than to rush this moment like a casual hook up.

This was his crush. The women he’d fawn over since freshman year.

His close friend. Y/N.

He knew what you like and what you didn’t like from the back of his head,

from all the times you’ve told him stories about your casual hook ups every now and then.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t go home most nights feeling jealous of how other guys could touch you so undeservingly,

at other nights he spent dreaming of how much he could fuck you better than any other guy,

and at some nights the jealousy and all the pent up feelings he had for you brewed to such intensity that he had no other option than to fist his cock in the shower,

thinking about fucking you all to himself.

And here you finally were, on top of him; your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your cheeks flushed as you turned away rather shyly,

your bare breasts all in display for him and your soaked pussy just inches away from his clothed cock.

All for himself.

It was like a wet dream come true to him.

Lust dipped into his pupils as he caressed the band of your panties,

staring in awe at the lacy fabric at hand before setting the band aside, revealing your already drenched cunt.

He groaned at the sight of it. Wanting nothing more than to stuff your pussy full of his cock.

Feeling his dick twitch uncomfortably in his slacks, he lifted his hips as he stripped down his trousers,

feeling himself grow impatient at the sight of your slick glisten, barely an inch from his thighs.

Leaving his pants bare on the floor of his backseat before dipping his fingers in between your drenched folds.

You sighed and bit your lip as a response. Turning away rather shyly.

His fingers soon laced on to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

It felt like time had slowed as he looked at you, his mouth opened, his lips puffy, and his gaze intense as he eyed you lustfully.

He had wanted, yearned for you even for so long, and now you were finally his.

There was nothing more he could’ve asked for in this moment.

He eyed your expression as he continued rubbing your folds, eyes closed and lips swollen from all the kissing and bitting,

he gradually slid his middle finger in back and forth, but not enough to satisfy how much you wanted him to touch you.

“Jay, please,” you exhaled as you eyed the motion of his fingers, holding onto the back of the front seat for support.

He caressed you so sensually, feeling the pleasure surging at the pit of your stomach,

it drove you almost insane on top of him. “don’t tease me.”

“I won’t baby.” he cooed as his other fingers moved from your chin to your hips,

his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as your mouth opened in pleasure.

The new nickname felt foreign to your ears, but nonetheless it made your pussy throb just for him.

“Jay,” you moaned lowly, gripping onto his arm.

Dipping his finger into you, you rolled your eyes back and bit your bottom lip, gently tugging on his hair,

feeling yourself melting into his touch as your hips thrusted slowly, almost in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling his cock twitch at the sight.

His fingers went in and out deep inside you, curling at you in all the right spots as the band of your panties grew wet from your slick cascading down his fingers.

Your face flushed, hips circling his fingers like a pretty doll as he looked at how drenched his finger were from slipping in and out of your walls.

He smirked up at you, enjoy seeing his effect on you.

It made him feel in control and powerful, subtly feeding his ego,

taking pride in how easy it was to have you squirming around his fingers.

Lifting his back towards you, pressing your lips onto his into a clingy hot mess of a kiss.

Slipping another finger inside of you, you moaned into the kiss as he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, never giving you a moments rest.

Feeling your hardened nipples softly grazing against his collarbones, he groaned into the kiss adding to the sensation as your hips moved clockwise against his thumb on your clit.

Kissing you oh so passionately, you tugged on his hair before pulling away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your tongues.

You were rilled up, your soft messy thrust turned precise and angled, almost as if you were waiting for the right moment to return the favor.

And you did so, as you laced your fingers onto the band of his boxers before beckoning him to lift his hips.

He raised an eyebrow at you as the tips of his lips curled, eyeing you curiously as he removed his fingers from your throbbing cunt making you whine silently,

missing the feeling of his fingers around you already as he gripped your waist.

Lifting his hips, he lets you slip your fingers onto the band of his boxers before pulling them down,

just enough to let his hardened cock sprung free from constraint.

Your eyes trailed from tip to the base of his cock, eyes dazed and mouth dry.

The mushroom tip of his dick flushed. A single thick vein trickled down from the bridge to the base of his cock.

He was definitely big.

Not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he was definitely big enough to have your stomach doing backflips.

All the excitement and nervous tension trickled down onto your cunt, feeling the throbbing sensation swell as you held your breath in for a moment.

Licking your lips at the sight of it, you continued to strip down his pants until they were well past his ankles as he threw them off to the side.

“Like what you see?” he smirked up at you as he firmly held your waist.

“Don’t get cocky Jongseong.” you teased back, a smile creeped onto your face as you leaned closer to him before capturing your lips onto his.

He gripped your hair gently as he leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss.

Your hands were all over his body, caressing his toned chest and washboard abs as your fingers trailed lower and lower while he sneaks his tongue back into your mouth,

letting out a groan as your thumb caressed dangerously close to the base of his cock.

The kiss soon grew rough and passionate as your tongues intertwined, his shaft grazing against your clit,

pulsating into a frenzy as his hands groped your ass, kneading them roughly all the while his nails were digging into your skin, making your breath hitch at your throat.

“Y/n.” he moaned out as he pulled away from you, feeling the pleasure coursing through out his body.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his head back onto the seat as he watched you, grinding your soaked folds onto his length.

His tip grew red as precum started to leak from his shaft.

“Shit.” he cursed lowly to himself as he eyed the sight in front of him hungrily.

The view in front of him was better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

Your fingers pressed against his cock as you grinded your folds against his dick.

Your slick wetting the bridge of his cock as you grind on him up and down, your other hand gripping onto his thigh for dear life as you balanced yourself on top of him.

You were insatiable.

He knew sex wasn’t a new thing for you, but never in his wildest dreams he’d see you like this with his own eyes.

A flushed mess, eyes closed, your bottom lip tucked as you held back your moans while you grind your folds against his cock,

holding yourself back from sinking fully onto his dick when he knows you so desperately want to.

So sweet yet so sinful, your moans and movements were a lingering sugar like addiction to him as he watches you slowly lose yourself on his cock.

And he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet.

“Tell me what you want.” he whispered as his nails dug into your waist, hands moving in sync with the movement of your hips, guiding it gently as you swayed your hips in a rhythmic pace against his cock.

Your vision grew hazy as you looked at him, blinking once as your eyes were instantly set on his,

his gaze spilling with lust and desire as he looked at you through his hooded eyelids, face flushed,

his lips pink and plump as they formed an ‘o’ shape, exhaling breathlessly as he eyed you so intensely.

His fingers soon replaced yours, holding back his length against your pussy,

watching you soak the bridge of his cock with your throbbing cunt.

You couldn’t take the teasing you inflicted on him anymore, you wanted him inside of you.

You wanted, needed to feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

You needed him.

“Jongseong, please, I wanna ride your dick.” you whined breathlessly as you continued to grind on him, knowing you still wanted to be good for him despite your desperation.

He cursed at himself, your words stripped him bare into utter desire as his fingers laced on to the band of your panties,

stripping them off your body before shoving them to the side as every patience he had in his body melted away into only anticipation, lust and desire.

“Ride me then y/n,” he spoke in a sultry tone as he looked at you through his half lidded eyes, while his hand grasped onto the base of his shaft,

angling his tip onto your entrance, “I’m all yours.”

Goosebumps erupt in your skin as he spoke those words, electrifying the feeling in your stomach as you positioned his tip at your entrance,

lifting your hips, you planted your forehead against his as you slowly started sinking down onto his cock.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung loose at the sensation as he did the same.

It was right then and there you realized that you’ve underestimated how big he was from the outside as his cock filled you to the brim of your walls.

Stretching you out oh so heavenly as he caressed the sides of your body as an attempt to sooth you while you adjusted yourself to his length.

“Shit.” you cursed as your eyes rolled back and nails dug onto his back.

“Holy fuck, you’re taking me so good y/n.” he spoke as his hands trailed down onto your waist, eyes rolling back and mouth opened the moment you started circling your hips around his dick.

Heavy breaths and strings of moans fogged the windows as you started to slowly bounce on his cock.

His dick filling you up to the brim every time you sank down fully onto him.

The way he was stretching you out felt so heavenly, you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.

“Shit you’re big.” you whispered in between your moans as you buried your face on the crook of his neck.

The complement fueled his ego as he smirked with pride before being cut short as he groaned, feeling you starting to clamp down on his dick.

The hands that was once your waist, trailed down onto your ass as he gripped them gently making you let out a loud moan,

as his hands started to match with the rhythm of your hips.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your drenched velvety walls soaking his dick. Feeling your slick dripping down his balls.

“Holy shit Jay fuck.” you leaned your head back as your eyes rolled back,

His head dipped down at the sight of your pussy sinking down onto his dick as you lifted your hips,

revealing the sight of his drenched cock before taking him in you again rather eagerly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned as he fondled with your ass making you moan his name as you continued taking in his dick like it was your last.

Where have you been all his life?

How could he have been stupid enough to not confess his feelings sooner?

A little part of him can only swirl in regret as he watches you bounce on his cock. Flushed. Dazed. And fueled with lust.

Wishing he could’ve pursued you sooner, knowing how good your slick walls felt wrapped around his dick.

“Look at me.” he whispered as you wince onto his shoulders from the overwhelming feeling of his dick stretching your walls,

picking up your pace as you moaned his name making him sigh as he relished himself on the overwhelming pleasure.

He cursed to himself before gently cupping his hand onto your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me y/n.” he whispered a little louder as you looked at his hooded eyes.

Holy fuck he’s never looked so hot.

The strands of his hair laced with sweat as his eyes pierced through them like a knife through a curtain, looking into you like you were his favorite pornstar.

His mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as groans, murmurs and profanities slipped pass his lips as you were bouncing on his dick like there was no tomorrow.

He leaned his head back against the seat, bitting his lips as he feels your slick dripping down his balls.

The occasional ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s slipped pass your lips as you rolled your eyes back, head leaned back while your palms were pressed against his toned chest.

The feeling of his length filling you in and out hits you like a tidal wave as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hands moved to caress the sides of your body, eyeing you lustfully. “So pretty for me,”

“so fucking pretty for me.” he groaned as he fondled your breasts making you moan his name rather loudly at the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him as your thrusts started to fall out of rhythm, turning sloppier by the second as your sigh and moans grew heavier.

“Tired y/n?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, receiving a weak nod from you as you bit your lip.

“That’s alright baby, I’ll take it from here.” he spoke softly as his fingers trailed to your hips, guiding you to spread your legs a little wider across the seat as you leaned forward,

feeling your chest pressed against his and his lips lingering over your ear, he started kissing and sucking on your neck,

making you close your eyes in pleasure as you succumb to the feeling of his tongue lapping against your neck.

A string of moans and profanities lingered from your lips as you felt him thrusting upwards into your pussy in a slow rhythmic pace.

You feel the air around you grew impossibly thicker as you breathed heavily.

His name slipped from your lips like a mantra, feeling his cock graze near your spot as he place open-mouth kisses against your collarbone and your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as the sound of the ocean waves creeped onto the back of your ear.

You let out a loud moan as you felt his thrusts grazed onto your spot, your hand that was on his shoulder slitted upwards onto his scalp, tugging on his hair gently as he moaned your name.

“Fuck, Jay, right there.” you moaned quietly into his ear as a small smirk creeped onto his face.

“Right there huh?” he spoke lowly in a playful, almost teasing tone. Gripping onto your hips so tightly as he thrusted onto your spot repeatedly making you cling onto his shoulder,

whimpers and loud moans of his name being the only thing leaving your lips as you no longer cared about the world outside of his car.

Though it was unlikely at this hour, if someone were to catch a glimpse of his car, they would’ve caught on to what was going on inside pretty quickly.

The car was shaking, it was almost in the middle of nowhere and the windows were fogged from the inside shut, covering the both of you from sight.

Though the both of you didn’t seem to care anyways. Too lost in each others presence to care about the world moving along outside of your own.

You nodded as you bit your lip, earning a groan from him as he leaned his head back onto the seat, fondling your ass as profanities slipped pass your lips.

“Shit, Jay!” you cursed as his thrusts grew rougher, hitting your spot over and over again, feeling the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter as he fucked you harder.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so good.” he moaned, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as you were certain that there would be bruises afterwards.

“Fuck, Jay.” you repeated his name as your nails tugged onto the blades of his shoulders. Feeling yourself growing closer to your high.

His sharp gaze pierced through the strands of his hair as his mouth hung opened and his eyebrows furrowed, completely lost in the feeling of chasing his own high.

“Tell me what you want.” he groaned lowly as his lips ghosted over your ear. The tone of his voice grew desperate and needy, almost whiny as he felt himself inching closer to his orgasm.

His words were only met with your moans and whines as he felt himself left unsatisfied.

You gasped as you felt his hand suddenly coming down onto your ass rather harshly, feeling your slick drip further down the base of his cock as a result.

“I said, tell me.” he reprimanded as his hand came down onto your ass again, but this time in between his sentences.

You feel yourself becoming flustered at his words, almost too shy to answer his lewd request.

It wasn’t until you felt his dick completely leaving your cunt that made you widen your eyes.

Whining at the loss of your orgasm.

All of a sudden, his lips latched onto your neck as he started sucking and bitting rather harshly making you let out a whine.

“Jay, don’t-” you whined as you tried to position his cock at your entrance, until his hands gripped your hips, completely halting you from reaching your high.

“I’m not letting you,” he whispered in your ear as he licked a stripe up your neck making you let out a moan. “if you don’t tell me what you want.”

At this point you were desperate. Almost too desperate to reach your high. You were willing to do whatever he wanted, just so that you can cum on his dick.

“Shit, I want you Jay.” you whispered as you caressed his toned abs, resulting in him letting out a groan.

You let out a whine as you felt his thumb caressing your slit, fueling the knot in your stomach that was bound to snap at any given moment.

“Please, wanna cum on your dick.” you practically begged, succumbing yourself to his touch.

A smirk plastered on his face as he looked up at you from your neck before positioning his cock at your entrance.

A moan left your lips as you felt his hands guiding your hips to bounce on his cock.

“Tell me again y/n, what do you want?” he asked as you moaned out his name, feeling his cock thrusting into you deeper as he synced his thrusts with your bounces.

Circling your clit faster, hitting your spot rougher and deeper, that you can only moan out in pleasure and desperation.

“Wanna cum, fuck, wanna cum on your dick Jay, please.” you whined as your high came closer and closer with each given thrust and bounce of your hips.

You yelped as his thrust grew faster, animalistic almost. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as his mouth hung opened and his eyes closed shut,

too focused on getting you to cum, too focused on the feeling of how good your pussy was clenching around his dick.

“Shit Jay, gonna cum, wanna cum on your dick.” so close, you felt so close to reaching your high as the knot in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment.

“Cum for me, cum for me y/n.” his words were your undoing. Your mouth hung opened as you feel your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave of pleasure.

Your head leaned back as you moaned out his name, back arching at the intensity of the feeling as your bounces grew sloppier and sloppier.

He sighed as he pulled himself out of you before pumping his dick in front of you, trying to reach his own orgasm.

You didn’t know what came over you as you’re hand swiped across the foggy glass before pinning both of his arms behind his head,

leaving him to look at you speechless as one of your hands trailed down onto his cock and you positioned him on top of your entrance.

”Fuck y/n, what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at you bewildered, you bend down onto his ear as you whispered to him sensually.

“Want you to cum inside me.” he can only moan at your words as his chest breathed heavily. He smiled tiredly as he looked at you.

This was definitely better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

"Shit y/n are you sure?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes widening, second guessing your actions.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do any-" his words were then cut off by your lips as you closed the distance between your lips and his in abandon.

"I want you to." you spoke as you pulled away, smiling softly at him making him sigh, a grin plastered on to his face.

“Go on then, don't let me stop you any longer.” he spoke softly as he moaned, eyes rolling back as he feels you sinking down onto him once more.

Your hand was still pinning his hands down as you started bouncing on his dick faster as he relished on the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick.

“Oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck wanna paint your fucking insides so fucking bad.”

You felt so fucking incredible around him. Clenching around him in all the right places with his dick buried into your hilt.

His eyebrows knitted at the sensation. Already so close to his edge.

The feeling of you alone could make him cum.

“Cum in me then, give it to me.” The way you were already pinning him down and the way you were riding him so good was enough to make him oh so close to reaching his high,

but your words sent him over the edge as his back arched and his thrusts met your bounces.

You moaned his name rather loudly as you felt his cum filing up your pussy.

A string of curses and moans followed as you both rode out his high.

The thrusts that were once harsh and rough, soon turned sloppy as you felt his cum painting your walls.

“Shit.” you cursed as you breathed heavily, finally spent.

You settled on his lap for a moment before slipping yourself out of him, his arms guiding you to lay on top of him comfortably.

Your heavy breathes mingled with each other as he snook a glance at your cunt. You sighed as he guided you to lean back, exposing your pussy to him.

“Fuck.” he cursed as he saw a bit of his cum oozing out of you.

Using his thumb he pushed back the cum back into you, a small sigh left your lips as he did so.

“Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” he spoke as he smiled at you. You smiled back at him as the both of you started to chuckle at your disheveled states.

“You look handsome.” you spoke as you pushed some of the strands of hair on his forehead, before cupping his cheeks as he chuckled,

the blush on his face prominent as ever post-sex.

“You look beautiful y/n.” he smiled as he hugged your waist earning a giggle from you, before taking your lips in his as the kiss soon melted into passion.

[lowkeyren]

FOR HIS HEART CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

in which — dan feng can’t imagine a life without you. so even when death takes your hand, he'll hold on to your other and do anything to get you back in his embrace, no matter the consequences.

pairing — dan f/heng x gn!reader

wc: 2.5k, lovers to enemies, you both are lowkey bad with feelings LOL, i lied when i said there's an alternative ending for hurt/comfort enjoyers, now suffer. (reblogs w comments are appreciated, pls enjoy <3) ps. dividers aren't working cus tumblr is being mean to me so using dashes instead ARRHGHGHG

—

lying in your shared bed, your breathing grows increasingly shallow, your hands tremble uncontrollably, signaling another episode of your deteriorating condition. the dim, cold room feels oppressive as you catch the distant echoes of the best physicians from all around xianzhou, their hurried steps reverberating against the walls as they hasten to your side.

dan feng tightens his grip on your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his expression etched with concern. the smell of herbal remedies and the sharp scent of sickness fills the air, mingling with the mustiness of the stone walls; a familiar sense of dread washes over you as you struggle with each breath.

his brows are furrowed, and his lips are pressed into a thin line, his knuckles turning white from the tightness of his grip on your hands. the pressure is so intense that it almost hurts —almost, but not quite enough to cause you (more) pain. he would never hurt you, not even over his own grave.

despite the best efforts of your personal caregivers, the limitations of medical knowledge, and the uncertainty of your treatments are harsh realities you have to face. it fills him with anguish to witness your episodes almost daily —suddenly collapsing in his arms, gasping for breath; moments like these are where he feels like he's standing right beside your deathbed, desperately hoping for signs of improvement each time you open your eyes again. 

it kills him that there's nothing he can do but watch over you, he watches as you waste away before his eyes, feeling a piece of himself wither away in tandem. 

dan feng’s eyes search yours the moment you regain consciousness, the doctors respectfully step back, bowing before hurriedly exiting the room. his heart breaks into a million pieces when he sees your eyes that were once bright with joy, now clouded with tears. the sight pierces through him, stirring a deep ache in his chest.

"dan feng," you whisper hoarsely, your voice fragile with pain. “it hurts, it hurts so much…” he presses a soft kiss against your entwined hand, his touch a soothing balm amidst the storm raging within him. “don’t worry,” he murmurs softly, “i’ll make it go away soon, i swear.”

“thank you.. but promise me, if i don't make it, you'll find a way to move on.” you manage a weak smile through the pain. his eyes glisten with unshed tears, he shakes his head slightly, "i won’t let that happen." 

of course he won’t. you were the kindest, most lovely soul before this godforsaken unknown illness with no definitive cure stole your life away; he sees your smile slowly losing its radiance, and your eyes dulling as each day passes. 

“this body… it’s useless, i’m useless. i’m sorry, i—” dan feng places a finger against your lips. his touch tender yet firm, stopping your words. "don't say that," his voice choking with emotion. "you're not useless, in fact you're the strongest person i know."

hearing you utter such self loathing words is like a dagger twisting in his heart, tipping him over the edge. you, who have always been his anchor in life's turbulent seas, slipping away feels like fragile glass shattering into countless shards, leaving him scattered and irreparable, each piece cutting deeper into his core with every breath.

he can't face the idea of losing you. it destroys him from within, even more so now that time is running out. but he won’t let anyone else have you, not even the cold hands of death. for you, he’s willing to pay any price, even if it means he has to break the highest laws of xianzhou.

—

you wake up feeling unusually energized, a stark contrast to the persistent aches and pains that have haunted you for so long. as you sit up, the familiar discomforts are no longer present, instead replaced by an almost surreal sense of vitality.

but something feels strangely off, an unsettling sensation gnawing at the edges of your awareness. your eyes dart around the room, frantically searching for your boyfriend’s presence; he has never left your side without a word (his protectiveness wouldn't allow it anyway), especially not for this long. 

panic flares as you look down at your body. the surgical wounds that once marked your skin have vanished without a trace. your breath catches in your throat as you run your fingers over the smooth, unblemished surface where scars should be.

you push back the covers and swing your legs over the side of the bed, struggling to piece together what could have happened.

where is dan feng? is he in trouble? and, why do you feel so... alive? 

then, a chilling realisation dawns on you. you try to shake the thought from your mind, but no matter how hard you try, you aren’t able to find any other explanation that fits your condition. as the high elder, dan feng should know better than anyone that such an act is a sin —a disgrace...

the truth begins to settle in, he really did sacrifice everything to grant you immortality.

—

“you’re literally the high elder for god's sake, what have you done?!” you exclaim, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger.

dan feng's expression is pained as he meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with a desperate resolve. “i’m only trying to help you. you don’t understand, i—”

“help me?” you cut in sharply, scoffing. “you betrayed xianzhou! you betrayed me. i was ready to let go, so why?” 

he reaches out to you, his hand stopping, and hovering in mid air as if unsure whether to touch you. "i can't bear to lose you," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. "i can’t just stand by and watch you suffer when i have the power to save you."

tears well up in your eyes, the room feels suffocatingly small as you stand in front of him. for the first time, you find yourself on opposite sides of the battlefield, the weight of his transgression hangs heavy between you, tearing apart everything you once knew. 

“by defying everything we stand for?” you choke out, your words laced with venom. “do you realise just what you’ve done?” he takes a step closer, his face etching with anguish. "i know i’ve made a grave mistake." he admits, “but will you believe me if i say that i didn’t regret it one bit?”

“how can you do all this… for love?” your eyes search his for answers that seem unfathomable. “no, my dear, for you.”  he steps closer, his breath warm against your skin, gaze locking onto yours with an almost desperate intensity. 

"but how can i ever love you again after this?" you whisper, your voice trembling. his heart shatters at how your eyes taint with fear and betrayal, the sight wrapping around his chest like a vice. the mere thought of losing you, of seeing you banished because of his desperation, is a torment he can hardly bear —but now one that he has to face.

"if you can't accept what i've done, i'll grant your wish, whatever it is.” he murmurs. “for you, i’m willing to pay any price." 

though when bound in chains, his title of high elder does little to shield him from the repercussions of breaking the sacred laws. he’s taken away; his fate sealed by the very rules he broke. and you, the one he tried to save, find yourself exiled, cast out for the sin you never chose.

as you wander, lost and alone, the realisation of what he gave up for you lingers, a bittersweet reminder of his love that defied everything, yet cost you both so much. 

—

the land of xianzhou is something dan heng is strangely familiar with; he walks through the maze of narrow alleys and crowded squares, every corner seems to whisper fragments of memories long buried. 

“dan heng! look, isn’t this so cool?!” the excited voice of a pink haired girl reaches his ears. her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as she animatedly gestures towards a nearby market stall with hand-carved trinkets. she continues to gush over the intricate designs while holding the hand of her grey haired companion, eagerly dragging them towards the stall.

his eyes follows them as their silhouette grows smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing amidst the crowd. just then, another figure in the distance catches his attention.

it’s a brief glimpse, a fleeting moment where your eyes meet across the street. perhaps it's your mannerisms, your familiar gestures, or simply the way you carry yourself —whatever it is, it stirs a rush of adrenaline, a sense of déjà vu that he can’t quite shake.

dan heng pushes through the bustling throng, eyes darting frantically in search of you. the world blurs around him as he focuses solely on catching another glimpse of you; he spots you slipping into a narrow alleyway, and without hesitation, he follows.

the noise of the market fades into a distant hum as his footsteps echo softly against the alley walls. he turns a corner and sees you up ahead, your figure outlined by the dim light filtering through cracks in the buildings.

you soon reach a dead end, but as you turn to leave, you bump into someone’s chest. the world seems to stand still for a moment, dan heng's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at you. although your face is partially obscured by a thin veil, your features are still discernible. 

“oh? it seems you still remember me.” you finally meet his gaze. those eyes he cherished so dearly still hold a spark of life. “[name]?” he murmurs, the sound of your name still so intimate on his lips after many years.

“you haven’t changed one bit.” he reaches out to gently push the veil covering your face aside. a flood of memories rushes through his mind, one a sharp pang in his heart. seeing you again triggers a vivid recollection of the exact place and position you were in years ago, a memory that stings to recall.

“i wonder whose fault it is?” you tilt your head, if only he knew the trouble you went through to find him again; given that goodbyes were never exchanged between you, it seems fitting to offer one now.

before he can say a word, you swiftly grab his collar and wedge him firmly against the wall. he doesn’t resist even when he feels the cold sharp edge of your dagger pressing against his throat, his gaze still fixing firmly on yours. 

"have you ever felt remorse?" you lean closer into him, your voice is barely audible through your gritted teeth. he ignores your question; unexpectedly, he grips your hand, dragging the blade down to his chest, positioning the point directly over his heart. 

"as long as my blood is on your hands, go ahead, do it." he whispers, his voice steady despite the tension. "my heart has always been yours anyway." his eyes bore into yours as if daring you to follow through. 

his grip on your hand tightens, urging you closer. "and if this is what it takes to ease your pain, then i'm ready."

"...what? you must be out of your mind if you think this way of making amends will work." your disbelief is clear in your voice; you try to shake his hand away, but he refuses to budge. 

dan feng couldn’t imagine a life without you, so when death takes your hand, he holds on to your other —and finds you again as dan heng. even as he gets on his knees and begs for your forgiveness, he still holds on to your hand as tightly as he can, afraid that any moment you might slip through his fingers.

“i’m sorry, i just couldn’t accept the thought of you leaving me.” and i still can’t, so please don’t leave me again.

you feel your willpower wavering, his very being melting away at your resolve. it's too much to bear, and you feel yourself slipping under the weight of his words. even still, you find yourself struggling to deny him. to deny yourself. to deny your own feelings. 

you fight the urge to simply give in, torn between the desire to just let go and fall into the sweet oblivion of his embrace, and the fear of getting sucked back into a cycle of destruction and pain. the weight of all that history, all those memories of your bittersweet love, it's overwhelming, nearly crushing.

“i know.” your heart aches, but you still deny the crave of the comfort of his arms. “and you’re not wrong,” the dagger clatters to the ground, the metallic sound echoing through the alleyway. 

“your heart is mine.” you push the veil to cover your face, placing your hands on his shoulder, leaning in. the cool silk brush against his parted lips, and oh… he’s been waiting so, so long for this moment.

though you pull away just as he comes to his senses. for the first time in years, he sees your smile again —the same smile that first captivated him, the one he had cherished and sought to preserve over the years. 

"remember the wish you owe me?" he nods, unable to find words. the memory of his promise resurfaces with startling clarity, his mind racing with the possibilities of what you might ask for. 

—

dan heng looks in the dagger's reflection; a dishevelled and broken man stares back.

the cold metal digs deep into his palm, the sharp edge slicing into his skin. in that moment, he wants nothing more than to be free of it, than to plunge the blade into his own heart. he feels the pain all over again, the pain of not being able to hold you, to touch you, to be with you.

for he knows that no matter how tightly he grips the dagger, it will never be the same as holding your hand. he knows that no matter how deeply it cuts into his flesh, it will never feel the same as holding you close.

“i wish i never loved you.” your words echo painfully in his mind. “and i hope we never cross paths again. goodbye, dan feng.” he releases the dagger with a sudden twist of his arm.

if choosing you over xianzhou was wrong, then consider him a sinner, and if loving you this much is his downfall, then consider him already on his knees.

but was it worth everything? was it worth it to see the look of utter desperation on his face? was it worth it to see him break apart in front of you? you feel only resentment and satisfaction; you made him feel what you wanted him to feel, you made him suffer for you.

the blade falls from his grasp, he stands amidst the shards of shattered illusions; the pain of your absence cuts deeper than any blade ever could. 

perhaps in another lifetime, he can find you again. 

for now, he honors your wish and only watches as you live on from the sidelines, yearning to be a part of your life again, even if only in his thoughts and dreams. he remains steadfast in his longing, a silent witness to the unspoken ache that lingers in the wake of your parting words.

—

masterlist

©lowkeyren 2024 only on tumblr. please do not plagiarize, translate, repost on other platforms, or feed my works into ai.

author's notes!! (my line of thought when writing this lul)

1. you made him suffer for you. -> irony. vengeance. he made you suffer BECAUSE of him granting you immortality. 2. dragging the blade down to his chest, positioning the point directly over his heart. = "my heart has always been yours anyway." -> which reader says with “your heart is mine.” 3. “and i hope we never cross paths again. goodbye, dan feng.” -> reader refers to dan heng as dan feng, i wonder what that means. 4. perhaps in another lifetime, he can find you again. -> you're both evil asf ngl, yes he will find you, you can't die aka you can't leave (him). ^ the only reason why he doesn't keep pursuing u now is cus he promised to grant your wish which is "to never cross paths again". (wow, he's such a man of his words.) 5. reader kisses dh over the veil, deliberately denying him the satisfaction of any intimacy. can be seen as a form of "punishment", leaving him yearning for more.

ty for reading xx for each reblog i will write 100 words for pt2 /j (BUT DO REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!! and it might not be a slash jay after all heuehehheh)

[megalony]

Heated Discussion

This is a new Evan Buckley imagine I had been wanting to write for a while now, and finally got the inspiration for it.

I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: A strange conversation with an old friend leads to an argument which stresses out Evan's pregnant wife.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apprehension and surprise flooded Evan's stomach when he opened the front door. He already knew who would be on the doorstep before he opened it, but it was still a shock to see him stood there.

He almost didn't believe the text he got the other day, asking if they could meet up after what had been months of simply texts and the odd phone call.

"Come in," He took a step back and motioned his arm to let Connor walk past him into the hallway.

In all the time they had been friends and for however long it had been that he and (Y/n) lived here, Evan couldn't think of a time when Connor had ever been inside the house or had even clapped eyes on it. They always met up at bars or restaurants with other friends tagging along or at parties.

He led the way through the hall, noticing that Connor was looking at all the photos decorating the walls and the ornaments scattered around. There were the odd canvas pictures on the walls which (Y/n) had beautifully decorated. Photos on the walls that Evan had taken himself when he found a new obsession with photography. And a lot of little clay crafts and pompom creations and random things the boys had made over the years.

Evan headed into the kitchen, bypassed the island in the middle and moved towards the fridge.

"Want a drink?"

"Sure." Connor walked into the pastel blue kitchen and folded his arms on the kitchen island, arching his lower back out.

He nodded when Evan placed a bottle of beer in front of him and watched Evan lean on the opposite end of the counter. Evan pressed his left hand down on the edge and propped one hip against the cupboard while his other hand drew patterns along the edge of his glass that was already starting to drip with condensation.

"Nice place, don't think I've been inside before."

"Thanks. So uh, I haven't seen you in a while. Last time we hung out was at Dan's birthday, right?" Evan took a sip of his drink while his eyes studied Connor closely.

He had been shocked, to say the least, when Connor messed out of the blue three days ago and after a bit of catching up, he asked if they could meet up. There had to be a reason, there always was these days. None of the gang- which consisted mainly of six of them who had been friends in college- ever just messaged or hung out for the sake of being with friends.

There was always a reason, whether that was to celebrate a birthday, to get drunk after someone had lost a job or had a fight or made some kind of achievement. And Evan knew this was no different, there would be a reason Connor had asked for a catch up.

And with Evan working a lot of odd shifts recently and wanting to spend time with (Y/n) and the boys, he said it would be easier for Connor to come over for a chat. Rather than meeting up for a drink somewhere. It meant Evan could relax at home too while they talked.

"Yeah, I think so. God, I still feel hungover from that."

A calmer, more playful smile came over Evan's lips and he nodded. He felt much the same.

Dan had insisted they all go to a club for his birthday and it had been the first time in a long while that Evan had gone out with people other than the team and got drunk with them. Dan kept buying the shots and Evan was the last man standing, the last one able to keep up with Dan for taking shots. Evan was a fun drunk, so (Y/n) was always telling him.

He became sweeter and dopey when he was drunk, and (Y/n) had been delighted when- after he called and politely asked her to pick him up- she got there and he happily slurred 'there's my lady' and attached himself to her like a monkey.

Evan had been very glad the next morning that the boys had spent the night with (Y/n)'s parents because Evan had suffered a bad hangover from that night.

"Great night," Connor mused with a smile and took a swig of his drink before he took a glance around. "Where's (Y/n)?"

"Gone for a lie down with Luke, he's got a cold and (Y/n) didn't feel well."

Evan nodded his head in the direction of the hallway. Carter was at school, but Luke wasn't at nursery because he was coughing and croaking and hadn't had a good nights sleep. About an hour ago he had finally started to become sleepy, and (Y/n) felt under the weather so she took him upstairs to have a power nap together.

The only times Evan knew his wife to take a nap was when she was really ill, or when she was pregnant. And she was eight months along now.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay…" Evan tried to smile, but that sounded omnibus and rather worrying. Those words didn't always bode well.

"You know I got married two years ago," Connor lifted his head but he leaned down further against the counter with his arms stretched out in front of him like he was going to reach out for Evan at any moment. He was trying to steady his hands that were messing with his beer bottle much the same as Evan was.

"Yeah, things still good between you two?" He remembered the wedding, it had been a good day. Evan and (Y/n) had been invited to the ceremony and the evening party but they didn't manage to stay into the evening because Carter hadn't been well.

He would admit he and (Y/n) didn't know Connor's wife Laura very well, the four of them never hung out very often and Laura didn't go on nights out when the group did. They had met her twice before the wedding.

It was different with (Y/n), she and Evan had been together since college so she had naturally gotten to know all of Evan's friends very well. She had been on lots of their nights out and all the boys thought she was loving and caring and funny. She was well and truly one of their own.

"Things are great- well, they were great. We wanted to start a family after we got married, so we tried, but nothing happened. We went to a doctor… and it turns out to be my fault."

"Your fault?"

"I can't have kids, Buck."

Evan rolled his lips together and leaned back off the counter. He scratched the back of his neck while his other hand started to drum against the counter out of nervous, ADHD habit.

He didn't know any of his friends to have that problem. Most of his close friends already had kids, Hen, Eddie, Bobby, even Chimney and Maddie now had Jee together. And a few of the guys from college had started settling down. Admittedly Evan had been the first one of them all to have kids, he barely scraped nineteen when he and (Y/n) had Carter.

"Oh, hey I'm sorry, that must be rough." Evan wasn't sure what the appropriate response to that was.

He couldn't say he understood because he didn't know what that was like. He didn't know what it felt like to be desperate to start a family only to find out there was something wrong with him that meant it wasn't going to be a reality. Kids had always been something Evan wanted in his life and he had been lucky enough to find (Y/n) and have Carter early on. They never had a problem starting a family. Carter was ten, they had Luke who was four and now they were about to have another baby.

Evan couldn't relate to Connor's problem and he didn't know how he could help or what he could say to try and take the sting out of it.

He realised a moment too late that maybe asking Connor round wasn't the best idea, now he knew what kind of problem he was going through.

Coming here meant Connor was witnessing the house scattered with trucks and toys and crayons and arts and crafts.

Evan could see Connor was already staring ahead at the fridge and Evan didn't have to turn round to know why. There were at least two new scan photos on the fridge because it made Evan giddy every time he opened the fridge to think about his impending arrival. His little girl.

And there was Carter's latest painting stuck up on the fridge which happened to be of a fire truck with Evan painted beside it in his bright yellow helmet. It was a picture Evan was immensely proud of and he would frame it soon once they took it off the fridge. There also happened to be a picture of all four of them on a day out at the beach pinned up there, and a picture of Luke sat in the fire truck with such a cheesy smile.

All of that wasn't going to make Connor feel much better with his current situation, being here was going to make him feel worse. And it made Evan feel bad for inviting him round without knowing the circumstances first.

"Connor, what does this have to do with me? Why did you want to talk to me?"

What use would talking to Evan do? Granted, he could be a listener when he put his mind to it and he liked to help people. He was always chatting and trying to talk people through situations and do what he could to help them. But he couldn't do very much.

Evan couldn't talk this situation into a better state. He couldn't come up with solutions, he couldn't do anything, it was nothing to do with him and it wasn't his speciality.

"We're thinking about other options, but adoption takes time and Laura wants to have a baby, she wants that experience, you know? So another option is getting a sperm donor."

"Oh."

A shiver crawled down Evan's spine and his expression went slack when realisation hit him like a train.

Oh.

They wanted him to be a donor? Why him? Why would they think of getting a sperm donor and have Evan be the first person they thought of? Was he even the first person they came to about this? Had they been to anyone else in their friend group, had they considered going to a donor bank?

The thought of being a donor had never crossed Evan's mind before. He was a blood donor, sure. He donated every month along with the rest of the team, like clockwork on the last Monday of every month. But blood was different to sperm. Blood saved lives, it didn't create them.

Evan thought the only lives he would ever create were the kids he had with his wife. He didn't consider donating and having other kids out there in the world that he would never get to see or know or bring up and raise as his own. The thought of someone else raising his kids made the hairs on his arms spike up and had his throat tightening in apprehension.

"I… Connor, that's-"

"I know, I know it's a lot to ask and a lot to take in. All I'm asking is for you to think about it, take some time, talk to (Y/n)." His expression was sincere and sorrowful.

He didn't mean to spring this on Evan and he didn't want an answer right away because of course an immediate response would be a no. He was just asking for Evan to think it over and consider what he was asking. That's all.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you. You're the guy who livens up a party, the one who does anything to help a stranger for no reward or praise. And you're a great dad, you're boys are sweet and they take after you."

"Well I- I'm flattered, truly." His lips quirked into a lopsided smile and he continued to rake his nails along the back of his neck causing deep red gashes to appear on his skin. "I'll think about it."

***

Dragging her feet, (Y/n) trudged through the hall and slowly made her way into the kitchen. Her head was spinning, her back was aching and her lower stomach felt heavy each time the baby twisted around.

She wanted to go back to bed, desperately, but she knew sleeping the afternoon away meant she wasn't going to sleep well tonight. Her fingers dragged through her hair and a smile pulled at her lips when she looked over at the kitchen table and saw Evan sat there.

He had his back to her, his head resting on his hand and he looked to be scrolling through his phone.

"Hi baby… did Connor come round?" Her fingertips trailed across his shoulder and she leaned over to kiss his curls which were running wild over his head.

She felt him lean back into her touch and he grinned when she kissed his temple. Her and Luke's power nap had extended a bit longer than (Y/n) first intended and she felt awful that Connor seemed to have come and gone and she hadn't even popped down to say hello to him. The last time she saw him was when she had picked Evan up from Dan's birthday party and she was sure Connor wouldn't remember that as he had been one drink away from collapsing on the floor.

"Yeah, left about half hour ago. How's Luke?"

"Fast asleep in our bed, thought I'd leave him a bit longer since he's settled. Was Connor okay?"

She kissed his cheek before she slowly moved towards the kettle and flicked it on. She could do with a drink to see if it would perk her up and ward off her headache.

Once she'd made a drink, (Y/n) twisted round and backed up into the corner of the counter. She leaned her back against the smooth edge, hoping that leaning against it would click her spine into place and rid her of the ache in her back. She slouched back and cradled her scolding cup between her palms while she looked across at her husband.

He spun round in his chair and folded one arm over the back while his other hand tapped against the table. That was a sign that he was thinking about something, that he might be worked up over something and it made (Y/n) curious.

She had been wondering what Connor wanted to come over and talk about and now it seemed he hadn't just come for a catch up or to ask about having another night out.

"He asked me to be a sperm donor for him."

"I beg your pardon?" (Y/n) set her cup down and moved both hands to grip the counter behind her. She could feel herself turning rigid as shockwaves coursed through her blood.

What had she missed?

What had they been talking about while she had been for a nap? Had she gone to sleep and woke up in a different time? Had she slept for a week instead of a few hours?

This was something strange and out of the blue. Connor had never asked something like this before, he had never really asked them for anything. But this was strange. What kind of friend came round and asked someone to be a sperm donor for them? It didn't matter how close they were, this wasn't the kind of thing friends asked of friends, it wasn't something friends willingly did for others.

Evan kept his hand gripping the table while his foot started to tap against the tiled floor. His other hand moved to the back of his neck again and his nails scratched into the skin until he was pinching himself and on the brink of drawing blood beneath his thin but relatively sharp nails.

Maybe he should have started the conversation off better than that rather than jumping straight to the point like that.

But he had been stunned. He was still stunned at what he had been asked and he wasn't sure how to process this or how to think and contemplate it. What was he supposed to think? Was he supposed to be flattered, angry, uneasy, happy? What was he meant to do?

"Him and Laura wanted to start a family, but he found out he can't have kids… so he asked me to be a donor for them."

Evan pushed up from the table and walked across the kitchen until he was in front of (Y/n). He leaned his right hand out against the kitchen island and his other hand found his hip. He could feel this conversation wasn't going to go down very well.

"And you're actually considering this?" Her nails began to tap out a frantic rhythm against the counter as she tried to stay calm, but this conversation was making it very hard. Just the thought of this was unnerving. If she disagreed with this, then (Y/n) was going to be made out to be the bad guy. She might be seen as being in the wrong for not wanting Evan to do this.

But was she in the wrong? Surely it was fair for (Y/n) to be concerned and uneasy about her husband potentially donating and having a child out there in the world that their friends were going to raise. They would know anytime that they saw Connor's child that it was Evan's biological kid.

Biology didn't mean everything, (Y/n) knew that. But she knew Evan like the back of her hand. He wouldn't be able to stay away. He would want to see his child, to know if they were okay and what they were up to and how they were doing. He wouldn't want to have a baby and then just hand it away, never to be involved again.

She lifted her chin to look up at her husband who took a step closer like he was trying to close the distance between them and close the argument that was now inevitable.

"I don't know, I at least need to think about it."

"Baby, that's not a normal thing to ask a friend. And why now? Evan, we're having a baby, we're gonna have three kids. I don't think now is the time to think about you having a fourth kid out there that you're never going to be able to see or talk to or tell them that they're truly yours."

(Y/n) ran her hand over her face and slouched back into the counter that was starting to hold more and more of her weight up.

Was she being unreasonable? Was (Y/n) being horrible for not wanting to consider this? But surely, she had some sort of say in this. She knew it was Evan's body and at the end of the day it would always be his choice, but this didn't concern just him. This concerned their family too.

This meant that there would be a piece of Evan out there that they couldn't talk to or connect with. A child they would never get to know.

They were married, they had three kids together and they were happy. Was Evan really going to be okay having a fourth child that he would never get to hold or cuddle or talk to? Would he be okay seeing them at parties or passing in the street, knowing they were his but never being able to stake that claim to them?

If it were (Y/n), she wouldn't be able to give up a child like that. And she had seen the way Evan was when the boys were born, he had that instant connection and love and adoration. He never wanted to put them down. This wasn't going to be the same.

"Connor can't have kids, (Y/n)."

The way Evan spoke made (Y/n) narrow her eyes and scoff. He spoke as if they had some part in this or some responsibility to Connor, but they didn't. That wasn't their fault and there was nothing they needed to do in this dilemma because Connor wasn't family or their partner. He was a friend.

"That's not your fault or your obligation to help, Evan."

"He wants a family."

His voice was so passive and calm that it made (Y/n) boil over with rage. How could Evan be so calm and easy going about this? How could he be contemplating this? If he went through with this there would be no turning back. There would be no way for Evan to stake his claim on that child because they wouldn't truly be his and he wouldn't have any rights to them.

Her temper was flaring and rising inside of her like a volcano starting to bubble over and it made her body shake with an overflow of adrenaline.

"Why you? There are donation banks out there Evan, so people don't get picky or try to find their donor and so there's no involvement and complications." If it were (Y/n) going through this, she wouldn't want a friend to donate, it would complicate things. She wouldn't want to know anything about the donor, as long as they were healthy that would be enough.

They shouldn't of asked Evan. It wasn't right, it was far too much to ask.

Did Connor and Laura not think this through? They shouldn't of asked Evan because they were friends. In the future if they went out together and people asked Connor how his child was, that was going to sting for Evan. That was going to bring up emotions he wouldn't be able to voice because of Connor.

When he talked about his child, Connor would be talking about Evan's child, that would change things in their friendship group. Evan wouldn't be able to ask about the child, he wouldn't be able to pay too much interest and what would happen if he were around the child?

Evan wouldn't be able to tell them the truth, he would have to stay at arm's length. He would be another one of their father's friends, nothing more.

"They want someone they trust and know."

"That doesn't make a difference, you won't be raising the child!"

A twinge tore through (Y/n)'s abdomen and she cringed, gripping the counter tighter until it was cutting into her palms and leaving lagged indents in her skin. Her back clicked in place when she pushed up straighter and shifted her weight onto her heels that were scraping against the floor.

This whole mess was stressing her and the baby out but (Y/n) couldn't just walk away and leave everything unanswered and sit in a panic. They had to talk about this and she had to know whether Evan was actually going to go through with this or not.

"Think about it, if you did this, they wouldn't let you be involved. You wouldn't be able to be around them much, you'd see everything from afar. They wouldn't tell the kid you're their dad. Could you honestly let a child go like that, Evan? Because seeing you with Carter and Luke, I don't think you could hand a baby over and cut all ties like that."

"I don't know."

"And when you go out with him and people ask about his kid, you can't pipe up and say anything. You'd have to sit there listening to all the achievements, the milestones, the illnesses and videos and pictures, and you couldn't share any of those moments."

Her tone was firm and her lips pressed into a thin line which made Evan sigh and tilt his head forward. He clamped one hand down on the counter and dragged the other down his face as he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"(Y/n), it's not that simple and you know that." He lifted his head, trying to take a deep breath to calm down the argument that was evolving. "This is Connor we're talking about-"

"Oh yes, I know Evan. This is the guy that laughed and asked you why you were tying yourself down to me when I got pregnant. Or have you forgotten the way he joked with you and taunted me for having Carter? He told you it would be a mistake, and now he thinks that because he is doing things in 'the right order' he has every right to come here and ask something that big of you, of us."

Evan may have been able to forgive and forget on that front, but (Y/n) couldn't. She could let things be, but she wouldn't forget the way Connor had acted when they hard Carter.

She wouldn't forget how he had clapped Evan on the back while everyone else congratulated him and asked why he wanted to make this kind of mistake? He told Evan that having a kid at nineteen, before he finished college or had a steady job was a mistake and he didn't need to 'settle down' with (Y/n) so early. He could still wait a while and see if she was truly the one for him.

"He thinks he has the right to judge us for having Carter and then suddenly ask something so big, something no one has the right to ask. And all because, what? He's done the social order of things only to realise he's lacking in one area. That doesn't give him the right to pretend he's righteous and ask you to donate for him."

(Y/n) had always been weary of Connor after hearing what he'd said when he thought she wasn't around.

She had seen the way it upset Evan and how angry he had been because there were only a few of his friends who understood that a family, a proper, loving family, was all he'd ever wanted.

(Y/n) dragged her hand up and down her lower stomach while she looked the other way so she didn't have to focus on Evan's conflicted expression.

She felt sick. Her stomach was weighing her down to the floor, her back felt like it was snapping in two and her head was spinning so hard and fast she worried she might faint. This conversation was getting them nowhere, it was only creating an argument that was going to wake Luke and send them all into a state of distress.

"But the fact is that he's asked me, and the least I can do is consider it properly. I can't imagine a world without our boys or the pain it would cause to know I was the reason we couldn't have kids. And whether or not I donate or someone else does, I can see the reasoning of asking someone you know. It's comforting. If there are any problems, you can ask for medical history, you know they're a good person."

"Do what you want. It's your choice, but you have to think it through."

She wasn't going to be able to dissuade Evan no matter what he chose to do. He wasn't listening to her, he wasn't seeing this from the other angle. All he could see was his chance to help someone because that was what he was like, he wanted to help people and if he had the chance, he took it. Damn the consequences for himself.

Well if Evan wanted to do this, it was his choice. (Y/n) had no say because it wasn't her body, she could tell Evan she didn't agree and make sure he knew her thoughts and views, but she couldn't say yes or no because this was nothing to do with her body.

If Evan wanted to watch a fourth child from a distance, knowing he could most likely never talk to them or see their achievements or be in their life, then he could do that. He could do that and possibly make the biggest mistake of his life when that baby was here and he realised he wanted them, badly, but could never take them back.

And (Y/n) had a feeling that if he did this, it would be the last they saw of Connor and Laura. They wouldn't want to be around her or Evan too much in case their children got too friendly and their child realised Connor wasn't their actual dad. They wouldn't want Evan getting close to his true kin or getting attached or wanting to be involved in any way.

They would be selfish and push Evan out, once the baby was born, (Y/n) could see them not telling him anything. No pictures, no calls, no updates, nothing. He would be cut off just like every other donor out there.

Evan might be under the impression that because they were all friends, he would get more out of this. He would get to see this child grow up, but he wouldn't. He would be demoted from friend to donor.

"Baby don't do that-"

"I'm done with this argument." (Y/n) pressed her lips together to stop herself from crying, but she could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes creating a sting in her nose.

She turned on her heels, pushing her weight off the counter and back onto her legs that were close to buckling beneath her. She wasn't going to stand here and argue. He was going to make up his mind either way, this argument wasn't going to persuade or dissuade him in any direction. He didn't need her for these decisions and (Y/n) wasn't arguing when it was making her feel ill.

Her left hand trailed along the counter while her right hand pushed into the lower side of her abdomen like she was trying to give the baby a nudge to make them shift. They were pressing down on her hips and it was painful.

She kept her head tilted down, staring at the floor as she tried to pass Evan but she had to pause when his hand curled around her upper arm. But a deep growl left his lips when (Y/n) yanked her arm out of his grip and carried on walking.

"Get off."

She wasn't sure where she was trying to go. She was too wound up to try and go back to sleep with Luke and he didn't want to go upstairs in case she disturbed him. He didn't sleep at all last night and he had no nap yesterday, he needed his rest.

She passed the dining room and aimed for the living room, praying Evan wouldn't follow and drag this argument with him because (Y/n) knew if she sat down, she wasn't likely to be able to get up without a struggle.

"Baby, please don't walk away, this isn't just my decision."

He wanted to talk and he wanted to be close, he didn't want (Y/n) pulling away from him and not accepting his touch like this.

"Yes it is. If I told you not to and you regretted it, that would always be my fault. If I told you to go ahead and then you got shut out of that child's life for good, I would be to blame. My opinion is I don't think this is a good idea, but it's up to you. Help them, tell them to find someone else, whatever."

(Y/n) flung her hand out behind her to reflect that she was tossing this argument out the window and she couldn't hide the venom that seeped into her tone.

If she pushed Evan to do this and he couldn't be part of that child's life, he might regret it for the rest of his life. He might wallow about the child he could never see, never hug, never talk to. He might think about them for years to come and never come to terms with giving them up. But if he didn't do it, he might regret it later in life, he might think he missed out on a chance to do good, to give life and purpose to someone. Evan was always searching for ways to make a difference in the world.

(Y/n) couldn't make this choice for him, it had to be his own decision. But she feared if he went through with this, she herself might resent him for it.

She swallowed down a groan and aimed for the sofa that was calling out to her shaking legs. Her hand slid down to cradle the side of her stomach and both legs twinged and shook when a searing spasm pulsed through her abdomen.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she couldn't stop them from spilling down her face when she heard Evan groan and storm back into the kitchen.

Her hand reached out and clenched down around the back of the armchair while her other hand cradled her stomach that suddenly felt like it had dropped down towards her feet. She couldn't help but close her eyes as tears streamed down her face and her body doubled forward like she was a spring coiling back down.

Suddenly sitting down didn't feel like the right option even though her legs were close to buckling beneath her.

She twisted to the right, trying to gather enough strength to stand up properly again and aim for the stairs. She couldn't just stand here like a statue all afternoon. She needed to go calm down and the bedroom seemed the best place to do that, or maybe she could take a bath and see if that would relax her. (Y/n) didn't feel well, she needed to go calm down.

It took all the strength she had left to push off the armchair and try to shuffle towards the stairs and (Y/n) found she couldn't stand upright without leaning against something. Standing up straight hurt her stomach and her lower back too much. Her body slumped to the left, reaching out for the bannister to hold her up as her fingers dug deep into her stomach and her knees trembled.

She reached the stairs, but more tears were pouring down her face and curse words flew past her lips when her knees crashed down on the stairs.

"Fuck… oow, Evan."

Confusion tore through Evan and unease rattled through his blood as he spun on his heels and moved into a brazen walk down the hall. He didn't like the pain he could hear laced into (Y/n)'s voice or the guttural cry that followed.

His brows furrowed and he looked around, expecting to find her in the living room but he didn't like the sight he was faced with when he looked over at the stairs.

(Y/n) was knelt down on the stairs, one arm slumped on the step with her forehead pressed into her arm. And her other arm was cradling her lower stomach, a very bad sign indeed. Each breath was shallow and barely there at all and she was trembling enough to make thumps and taps rattle against the stairs.

"Baby, hey, baby what's the matter?"

He skidded across the floor to be beside her. His arms were stretched out before he was even within reaching distance of her and once he was close enough, Evan crouched down behind her with his hands on her waist. He waited a few seconds to see if (Y/n) would move or even turn his way, but she seemed too caught up in her pain to move or talk to him.

He looped his left arm around her waist across her bump with his hand flush against her stomach. And his right hand slid up beneath her arm to cup her shoulder so he could gently ease her back off the stairs. He pulled her as carefully as he could until her back was flush against his chest and her head flopped back against his shoulder.

"Talk to me. What happened, did you fall?"

(Y/n) managed to open her eyes to stare up at Evan and take in his panic-stricken expression. Her hand reached down to clench around his wrist that was resting over her stomach and she shakily grabbed his other hand while her eyes cast downwards.

"Fuck- oh, my water broke."

Panic took over Evan's system and had him on red alert. He glanced down over her shoulder, leaning his chest forward into her back to get a better view and he realised she was right. Her waters had broken. She was in enough pain that it had to be contractions she was feeling.

They were at thirty-six weeks now, labour could technically happen anytime now, although they would have hoped for another two weeks or more before having the baby.

"Oh oh… sweetheart I- I'm sorry. Come on, sitting on the stairs isn't gonna help either of you."

Evan kept her leaning back against his chest and he slowly shuffled off the lower step so he could get back on his feet. He eased (Y/n) back with him, moving both arms so they were around her waist, cupping her stomach to take her weight for her. He held her up with ease when her knees trembled and buckled and he carefully turned them to the side and started walking towards the armchair.

Once they were at the chair, Evan turned to the side so he could ease (Y/n) down into the chair. She sat on the edge, moving her hand to grip the armrest as she balanced her weight on her heels and sat forward, pushing her stomach down into her thighs.

As much as she felt angry towards Evan for this argument, she couldn't help but reach out for his hand and pull him closer as if she thought he would actually walk away from her right now.

"I'm b-blaming you for this." She whispered, following Evan through watering eyes as he crouched down next to her thigh and moved his free hand to grip her knee tightly. His puppy dog eyes stayed locked with hers while he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss against her stomach.

There was nothing but love and sorrow hiding within his eyes that were close to tears. He hadn't meant to upset her this much or stress her out and push her into labour. He shouldn't have argued. He should have walked away or tried to simmer down the conversation when he noticed (Y/n) becoming uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I am. Are you okay?" It seemed like a silly question but it tumbled past his lips before he could think better of it.

This wasn't how they were supposed to have their third baby. This wasn't part of the plan. They were supposed to have another week or two so they could get everything ready. Maddie was going to have the boys and they would be prepared and not in the middle of a heated argument when this happened.

(Y/n) didn't think she had the will power to use her voice yet, so she settled for nodding while she gingerly moved his hand towards her stomach. His touch always soothed and calmed her down and it would do the same for the baby too.

"I'll ring Maddie and check if she's off work, see if she can have the boys and get Carter from school."

With her teeth sinking into her lower lip, (Y/n) leaned forward a little more so she could nuzzle her face into the top of Evan's hair. She felt his fingers softly gliding over her stomach and when she kissed the top of his head, Evan tilted his head back to look up at her. His free hand moved to cup her chin between his thumb and finger and he searched her eyes for a few seconds, making sure she was calm and no longer panicking.

His eyes softened and he dived up to steal a kiss, feeling like he had been starved of her lips for weeks rather than just a few hours while she had been upstairs with Luke.

He kissed her like he was trying to pour all of his thoughts into her mind and kiss an apology into her lips. His tongue swiped across her lips and delved against hers, taking any air she had and breathing it back to her. And his lips curved into a burning hot grin when he felt (Y/n)'s hand move from his wrist to secure at the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

"I think you're right."

His breathless words, spoken against her lips, had (Y/n) frowning. What was she right about? Being in labour?

She nudged her nose against his, the confusion in her eyes begging him to explain what he was referring to. If she weren't so flustered and ravaged with pain, (Y/n) might have given him a sarcastic response before knowing what he meant. She would of said 'of course I'm right' or 'what else did you expect?' but she wasn't in the frame of mind to strike up sarcasm right now.

"If I was a donor, they wouldn't want me involved… I couldn't be there for any of it, not like this. I don't think I could do that." His hands moved forward so both palms were grazing across her stomach and he leaned over to press his lips against her bump over the top of her shirt.

If he went through with it, then it would be Connor in Evan's place. He would know his child was being loved and raised by someone else, and maybe that would be okay for a while. Maybe he could get in the mindset that it wouldn't really be his kid, he was offering up a bit of himself to help others. He would be giving an offering and that was it, Connor would be the one putting the time and effort in to raise the baby.

And Evan believed being a donor was such a good thing, it helped so many people. But one had to be detached to be a sperm donor. They had to be uncaring and ready to cut ties and not know anything about any kids they may have out there.

Evan wasn't that kind of person. The marines had tried to drill the love and compassion out of him, mould him into a machine and he left specifically because that wasn't who he was or who he wanted to be.

If he was the donor, he couldn't be there like this. He couldn't be at the scans or revel in the scan photos or the heartbeat, and he couldn't be at the birth like he was with his three children.

Being here right now, with (Y/n) in his arms and their baby between them, this was the kind of way Evan wanted to bring life into the world. He wanted to be involved.

"That's not a bad thing." (Y/n) wove her fingers into Evan's wild curls and nuzzled her cheek against the top of his head, leaning further into his embrace.

If Evan was going to bring life into the world, he wanted to be involved, in every aspect of it.

[lyneira]

♤ cleansing rituals ♤

SMUT - MDNI

-> shower sex, feat. jing yuan, gepard, dan heng, and sampo (separate) x fem!reader

JING YUAN

- Definitely a fan of doing it in the tub where you can just sit on his lap, enjoying the feeling of your weight down on him and feeling your body pressed against his

- He'll touch you down there and he'll know when you're needy so he'll let his cock head poke at your folds, you'll then bounce on it

- He'll let his cock head rub up and down your folds as he feels you squirm in his lap, practically begging him for friction and begging him to insert himself inside you already.

He'll then spin you around to face him where he can look at you as you ride him, and he'll be kissing you. Breasts pressing up against his chest and your rock your hips back and forth, causing the water to slosh around

- bathing with him will take hours just because he loves having you sit on his lap as the warm water envelops your body. It's such a cozy and warm feeling for him

SAMPO

- He's the type to let himself in as you take a shower, whether you invited him in or not

- He particularly enjoys shower sex for the reason that it doesn't take too long to get himself inside of you, everything's already naturally wet.

- Your wet bodies pressed up against each other is particularly sexy to him, and likes pressing you up the shower glass, especially to enjoy seeing the way your boobs are pressed against it in the mirror.

- Most definitely will fuck you standing up while carrying you too because he has full confidence in himself that he won't let either of you slip.

- And it would show in the way his hands were firmly gripped at your thighs and his stance was firm with his feet pressing into the shower mat

- You know Sampo, he'll always give you the short end of the stick. Despite how much he loves shower sex, he'll be a brat and pull out before you could reach your high, and will insist on finishing on the bed.

- He'd do this to rile you up and to have your sex sessions be longer. Plus, you two would have the time to actually wash yourselves, he'd probably say in defense.

- But all of this is part of his master plan because after you two make love in bed, you two will end up full of sweat and each other's essence that he would also insist on taking a shower together again.

And so the cycle repeats ;)

GEPARD

- I think he'd initially be shy to join you as you cleansed yourself, not wanting to intrude on your privacy. But things change when you invite him to come into the tub with you

- He'll want to wash you, he'll want to pamper you, and he'll kiss your collarbone and every patch of skin that's exposed while he's at it.

- When he positions himself on top of you, slowly inserting his dick into you and starts fucking you, he'll be conscious of how much the water was sloshing around, afraid that it'll make a mess

But none of that will matter once he's approaching his high. He'll grab on to the sides of the tub to stabilize himself as he'll begin to pick up the pace and erratically ram himself into you, getting close to his orgasm.

And once he finally hits it, he'll lay exhausted on top of you, embracing you by your waist with one arm and slowly stroking your head with the other.

- He'll likely apologize for the mess and says he'll clean it up in a bit, but for now, he just wants to rest in your arms.

DAN HENG

- Washing with Dan heng will be very intimate as well.

- he'll take his time with rubbing the soap on you, and with his other hand, he'll gently trace the soap suds left on your skin, rubbing it up and down, feeling how slick it is while continuing to memorize the shape of your body under his hand

- but he'll also often just want to hold you as you feel the water droplets hit your heads under the shower

- Tbh, he'd join you just to undergo such an intimate act of cleansing one another without even intentions of having sex, but won't mind at all if it ends up escalating further than that

- he'd enjoy the steam coming from the shower as it makes you two hotter and wet. It was like an external representation of what was happening inside both of you, after all.

- as you embrace each other, neither of you can't help but rub up against each other, feeling the way your hips grind against one another's

- and this all would lead to him, rubbing his dick in between your thighs, getting harder with each second, before finally inserting himself into you.

- he'd fuck you standing up, holding you against the wet tiles of the shower wall, while bringing one of your legs up to wrap around his waist

- when you two eventually reach your orgasms, you'd go back to what you both initially intended to do, which was to wash each other.

a/n: I've had this in my drafts since even before Blade was released LOL. I'm thinking of making a part ii for the other male characters, though I haven't gone so far in the game yet to know them enough. Would y'all want a part ii? Lmk 👀

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[formulaforza]

—if walls could talk

some things are meant to be secret (we'd fall from grace) pairing: charles leclerc x female reader warnings: 18+ minors dni. loadsss of google translated french. language, friends talking about sex, nsfw warnings under the cut :) love, mackie... 6.3k words! sometimes the only person who can help you out is a good friend. happy almost thanksgiving to all my american followers :) thankful for each and every one of you. mwah mwah mwah.

18+ because: fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, aftercare, mentions of hookups/faking it

You’re the last one to walk through the door of Charles’ apartment. Everyone else has been long comfortable, leaving imprints on the comfortable couch, footprints in the freshly-vacuumed rug, empty wine bottles and half-empty glasses on the coffee table. 

There’s always something so cold about his apartment—always empty, always dusty, filled with the remnants of his boyhood and the promise of his adult life. It has all the makings of a home, but it still feels like a house—like a museum instead of a secondhand shop. Always, except on days like tonight, when it’s filled with warm laughter and the smell of half a dozen different meals and the quiet hum of his favorite playlist. On days like today, it feels like a home. 

Nobody in the living room hears you open the door or slip off your shoes—they’re too preoccupied in their busy, lively conversation about a road closure on the way to the airport in Nice that adds twenty minutes on to the drive. You move in the opposite direction, towards the kitchen, to set your crowd offering—blue cheese stuffed shrimp—on the counter and get a wine glass from the cabinet to fill. He’s in the kitchen when you turn the corner, carefully examining the platter of Italian meatballs he’s got cooking in the oven. 

Charles looks up as soon as you set the heavy plate down on the counter. “Hé!” Hey, he greets, closing the oven door and pulling off his blue mittens to properly kiss both of your cheeks, a single arm wrapping around your middle to pull you into a quick hug. “Quand es-tu arrivé?” When did you get here?

“Tout à l'heure,” Just now, you reply, roll up the sleeves of your shirt because his kitchen is so small, and heats up so quickly when the oven is on. “Désolé, je suis en tard,” Sorry I’m late.

“T'es pas en tard,” You’re not late, he interjects, dragging a tortilla chip through someone’s dip and popping it into his mouth. With his other hand, he’s reaching into the cabinet above his head, pulling down a wine glass and handing it to you. 

“Je suis très en tard,” I am so late, you smile, take the empty wine glass with a thank you and follow suit with your own chip in the fame dip. “Je reviens directement du travail. Les crevettes sont restées dans le réfrigérateur du bureau tout l'après-midi,” I came straight from work. The shrimp sat in the office fridge all afternoon, you explain, and he scowls, raises his brows at you and at the shrimp. You chuckle, nod.  “N'en mangez pas,” Don’t eat it. 

His eyes are stuck on your cheek, which forces your hand to investigate what he might be staring at. “Quoi?” What? You ask, fingers coming up with nothing but an embarrassed heat. 

“Rien, juste... tu as un cil,” Nothing, just… you have an eyelash, he lets a sharp exhale leave through his nose, “je l'enlèverai,” I’ll get it, and then he does. Carefully, with the pad of his middle finger, he picks the eyelash from your cheek. You don’t look at him while he does it, but you are watching when he transfers it to his thumb and drops it onto the platter of shrimp with a quick flick. “Oh, non,” he feigns concern, grabs the platter from the counter, “Allons juste…” Let’s just… he laughs and holds the plate over the trash can and drops the shrimp into the plastic bag with a thump. 

“Bon appel,” good call, you laugh. 

He drags you into the living room, towards the rest of the evening festivities, with his arm tossed over your shoulder. Between that, and the whole let me get your eyelash thing minutes earlier, you’re as close to certain a person can get that he and his girlfriend are still broken up.

They go through phases, the two of them. She doesn’t like your friend group very much, and Charles doesn’t seem like he likes her all that much, but they come and go like seasons. Together one month, broken up the next week. He usually tells you, but even when he doesn’t, you usually know. He’s always touchier with you when she’s out of the picture. Not that you mind it, but. He is. 

It’s all a little more comfortable, like you’re both a little less aware of the fact that you’re the only girl in the group who isn’t spoken for, or that you’re both atrociously the other’s type.

“Regarde qui j'ai trouvé,” Look who I found, Charles announces, and you���re met with a spattering of greetings, plopping down onto the couch, slotting between Marta and an empty space that is quickly occupied by Charles. 

You both fight over the corner seat, who gets to take up more of it. He loves to sprawl out and you love to curl up. When it’s all settled, he’s spread out like he likes, and you’re curled up into the space he leaves, half leant against him with your knees pulled to your chest, sleeves pulled over your hands because it’s hot in the kitchen, but only in the kitchen. 

“J'ai entendu dire que vous avez tous les deux eu un week-end assez mouvementé,” I heard you both had quite the eventful weekend, Marta teases. She’s the only other person besides the man next to you—as far as you know—that knows about what went down last Friday night. It takes even you a moment to remember, having already relegated the mortifying details to the bottom of your soul. When you do recall, your cheeks burn with the sudden blow flow and you giggle, curl into Charles a little further than you probably should.

“Quoi?” What, Joris asks, “ce qui s'est passé?” What happened?

“Rien ne s'est passé,” Nothing happened, Charles tries to protect you from re-living the evening, but it’s no use. Now that your friends have a sniff of a story, they won’t stop until it’s told in complete, painstaking detail. So, you begin:

“J'étais en train de garder un chat le week-end dernier pour mon collègue, n'est-ce pas?” I was cat sitting for my coworker last weekend, right?

— —

You were indeed cat-sitting for a coworker last weekend. It was an orange cat whose name you never really learned, much less remembered, and you were on day three of five of cat-sitting. It’s important for the rest of the story, for later. It is. 

Anyway, you were cat-sitting on a Friday night, but that wasn’t going to stop you from going out. Your sister had invited you, something about a club and her boyfriend’s friends visiting from London. Only if I can claim a brit, you’d joked. You’d joked, right up until coming face-to-face with the twenty-something, five-foot something-but-still-taller-than-you, perfect brown hair and perfect green eyed British man that had come along for the visit. You weren’t joking after meeting him. 

Once the two of you were finally drunk enough to lose any sense of what’s good for you, you were squeezing into the back of a taxi and stumbling up the stairs of your apartment complex, the cute boy and his little kisses and touchy hands slowing the whole process down. 

We all know what a drunken Friday night hookup looks like, so. There’s no need to explore the logistics of it with someone who’s name you’ve since forgotten, who you hope is back home in London never to return. Because where the story really gets good, is after the uneventful hookup, when Mr. Brit really needed to get back to his fiends and had you walking him to your apartment door in just a towel because he didn’t have the patience to wait for you to put on some fucking clothes. 

— —

“Bon sang,” damn, Hugo laughs from the other end of the sofa, “tu es vraiment si mauvais en sexe?” Are you really that bad at sex? 

“Va te faire foutre!” Fuck you, you scoff. “Je suis incroyable en matière de sexe,” I’m amazing at sex.

“Je peux trouver quelqu'un pour vous donner des cours, si besoin,” I can find someone to give you lessons, if you need. 

You pause, blink twice, and then continue your story. “De toute façon,” Anyways.

— —

As you open the door to let him out, the cat you’ve been cat-sitting—see. It did come back to be important—darts out of the door. 

“Grab him!” You’d yelled, and the guy actually looked back at you before replying. 

“I’m allergic.”

You scoffed, hurrying past him and down the stairs after the cat. You manage to corral it in the corner of the stairwell, pick it up and return to your apartment, just in time to watch the door shut behind you. You look at the door, at the guy you’d just fucked, at the cat in your hands, and then back at the door. “That is not good,” you say.

The guy laughs. “Just open it.”

Oh, brilliant. Why hadn’t you thought of that? “It’s locked.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

By the grace of God and all things good in this world, the guy had a fully-charged phone. Unfortunately for you, of the three people with a spare key to your apartment, there was only one number you had memorized: Charles. 

You text him before you call him. It’s me, please don’t send me to voicemail, and then he did send you to voicemail twice before calling the number back. 

“Bonjour?”

“‘Bonjour?’ Mon cul!” ‘Hello?’ My ass! You greeted, the cat snarling and wiggling against your grip. You were so far beyond being in the mood for pleasantries. You just really, really wanted some fucking pants. “J'ai besoin que tu viennes ouvrir ma porte. Genre, il y a dix minutes,” I need you to come unlock my door. Like, ten minutes ago. 

“Et avec qui ai-je le plaisir de discuter?” And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with? You swear if you could, you’d punch him through the phone. You can’t, so you settle for hanging up. 

It’s at this time that Mr. Brit properly excuses himself from the evening of fun, because now that he knows you won’t stand outside your apartment in nothing but a towel for the rest of time, his conscience is clean. 

You and Charles live a sixteen minute walk from each other, and he definitely chose to walk rather than literally any other form of faster transportation. Maybe you should have disclosed your current state over the phone, but that probably would have made him walk slower. 

When he finally does trudge up the stairs, he stops three steps short of your landing at the sight of you, towel and cat and literally nothing more. “Qu'est-ce qui t'est arrivé, putain?” What the fuck happened to you? He laughs, and then finishes his walk up the stairs, holding your key out to you tauntingly. 

“Connard,” Asshole, you mutter, snatching the key away from him with your free hand and forcing it into the lock. “J'avais un gars chez moi,” I had a guy over, you add, forcing the door open with your hip. 

“Où à?” Where? He asks, following you into the apartment.

“Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire, où?” What do you mean, where? You laugh, gesture around the apartment. “Ici,” here. 

Charles frowns, scowls even. “Et il t'a laissé dehors?” And he left you out there?

You nod, gather up your clothes from the floor before they can exist there long enough to be perceived. “Tu n'es pas obligé de rester, je vais bien,” You don’t have to stay, I’m fine, you tell him, half-usher him back out the door he came through. “Je sais que ta copine va probablement me tuer,” I know your girlfriend is probably going to kill me next time she sees me.

— —

“Je ne peux pas croire qu'elle ne t'a pas tué,” I can’t believe she didn’t kill you, Ricky chuckles, looking to Charles. 

You find solace in the bottom of your wine glass, an excuse to fill the silence that follows Ricky’s comment. “En fait, nous avons rompu,” we actually broke up, Charles says, and the room falls into the same silence it always does everytime they break up. It’s not that you guys don’t like her, so much as… well. Yeah, it is that you don’t like her. But she didn’t like you guys first, so it really shouldn’t matter much that none of you like her. 

“Je suis désolé, mec,” I’m sorry, mate, Joris offers, and then everyone follows suit with half-hearted apologies they don’t mean. 

“C'est bien, vraiment,” It’s fine, really, he offers to the group. “Elle était gentille, mais elle ne l'était tout simplement pas…” she was nice, but she wasn’t… he hesitates. You take another sip of your wine. Your friends listen to him intently.  “Je ne veux pas être méchante,” I don’t want to be mean.

“Soyez méchant,” Be mean, Marta giggles. 

He laughs nervously, fidgets with his fingers, watches his rings spin. “Elle n'était pas très bonne. Elle ne pouvait pas... Je ne l'ai jamais fait, tu sais,” She wasn’t very good. She couldn’t… I didn’t ever, you know, he trails off, gesturing wildly into the space around him, anything to avoid having to say the words the entire room has picked up on. 

You roll up your sleeves, hot again. Burning. 

The teasing that follows from the guys is relentless, gets to a point where you and Marta step in, begging them to stop kicking a dead horse while Charles is in the bathroom. They do ease up, and the night continues far, far away from horrible hookup stories and mortifying relationship admissions. 

You were the last to arrive, which means you’ll be the last to leave, make sure that the whole place has been cleaned up, returned to its stiff and dusty places in the apartment before you head home for the night. 

“Juste pour que tu le saches,” just so you know, you comment, scraping the last of the left behind chip-dip into a tupperware container while he gathers up the now-stale crackers from the charcuterie board. “Je ne te crois absolument pas,” I totally don’t believe you.

He meets your eyes, confused. “Tu ne me crois pas à propos de quoi?” Don’t believe me about what?

“A propos de ne pas…” about not… you look away, direct your attention to the lid of the container. Anything but looking him in the eyes while talking about each other’s sex lives. “Tu sais. Il est impossible que vous n’ayez pas joui depuis cinq mois.” You know. There’s no way you haven’t gotten off in five months. 

You see him shake his head in your peripheral, distract himself with the task at hand the same way you had. This isn’t something the two of you talk about, and you talk about pretty much everything. Sex, though. It’s always been off-limits, especially in a situation like this, just the two of you together. “Non,” nope, he mutters. “Je souhaite,” I wish.

You roll your eyes. “Charles, regarde tes mains,” look at your hands, you say, and he does, all full of crumbs and salt and grease. “Voilà, voici la solution à ton problème. Tu peux le résoudre dès que je partirai,” there’s the solution to your problem. You can fix the issue as soon as I leave tonight.

He rolls his eyes right back, “idiote,” idiot, he says, shoves your shoulder with one of his hands and you laugh. “Je ne peux pas. C’est… je ne sais pas, c’est irrespectueux,” I can’t. It feels… I don’t know, it feels disrespectful.

You laugh, curl in on yourself at his comment because it feels so completely ridiculous. He’s a good guy, you know. You know, or you wouldn't be such good friends in the first place. You know, but that's a crazy concept even for a good guy. “Manque de respect envers ton ex-petite-amie si tu te branles après un séparer?” Disrespectful to your EX-girlfriend if you jerk off after you’ve broken up?

“Bien. Quand tu le dis comme ça,” well. When you say it like that.

“Ouis,” yeah, you chuckle, hoisting yourself up onto the counter you’d just cleared. The granite is cool even through the denim of your jeans. “Quand je dis ça comme ça, tu es un imbécile,” when I say it like that, you dumbass. 

“Pourtant,” Still though, he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He always looks particularly boyish when he gets even the tiniest bit frustrated with you. “Tu ne comprendrais pas. Ça n'est pas pareil.” You wouldn’t get it. It’s not the same. 

Wouldn’t I? You pick at your cuticles, don’t know how to skate around the admission that you’re finishing about as often as he is—that Mr. Brit, who he’d missed by no more than ten minutes last weekend, was not exactly giving you a very eventful evening when he decided he was done for the night. 

"Je ne vois pas comment tu pourrais,” I don’t see how you could.

You nod, wish you lived in his little naive world where you always finish. “La moitié des gars de ce putain de pays ne savent pas comment faire jouir une fille. Et apparemment, les gars de Londres non plus.” Half the guys in this fucking country don’t know how to get a girl off. And apparently, neither do the guys in London.

“Vraiment?” Really?

You nod. “Je ne peux pas te dire combien de fois j'ai simulé parce que j'en avais marre que quelqu'un attaque ma lèvre gauche avec sa langue,” I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve faked it because I was tired of someone assaulting my left lip with their tongue. 

“Fuck,” He laughs. “​​Ce n'est tout simplement pas bien,” that’s just not right.

“Non, ça ne l'est pas,” no it is not.

“Tu devrais vraiment obtenir de l'aide pour ça,” you should really get some help with that.

“Et toi aussie. Je mourrais avant de laisser tes conneries arriver.” So should you, you offer. I’d die before I let that shit happen. And you would, you really would. You can’t think of something worse than dating someone for months and knowing you’ve never gotten them off once. And she knows, she has to know, because there’s no way for him to fake it. She has to know. 

There’s a pause, and you realize that somewhere on the other side of the apartment the music has stopped playing. The speaker must have died—or the phone playing through it. You realize that Charles is close, now. Really close. Has he been this close the entire time you’ve been cleaning up, close. “Le feriez?” you would?

“Cent pour cent. Une bonne petite amie le ferait—en fait,” a hundred percent. A good girlfriend would—actually, you stop yourself, scowl a bit at the idea of it all. “Une bonne petite amie n’aurait jamais ce problème en premier lieu, mais ce n’est pas la question,” a good girlfriend would never have that problem in the first place but, that’s besides the point. He smiles, the threat of a laugh, and takes a step closer, firmly between your legs, now. You put your hands on either of his shoulders, give them a firm, friendly squeeze. “Une bonne petite amie t'aurait aidé,” a good girlfriend would have helped you, you assure him, but it doesn’t sound as friendly as your gesture was. 

His hand falls to your knee, thumb moving over the fabric of your jeans there ever so softly. It sends a chill up your spine, makes you shiver. “Un bon ami pourrait m'aider,” a good friend could help me, he says, hardly above a whisper—like he thinks saying it quieter is going to make it have any less suggestion. 

You nod, gulp, your fingers intertwining behind his neck. “Un bon ami pourrait vous aider,” a good friend could help you.

“Ouis,” yeah. You’re so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, that your noses might as well slot against each other. That you might as well be kissing, even if you aren’t. You’re sure your eyes cross when they meet his. 

“Dommage que tu n'en ai pas,” shame you don’t have any of those, you tease, smile pulling on your lips, hands falling from over his shoulders to move down his chest, to feel every reaction of his muscles as you trail over his abs softly, toy with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“C'est vrai, n'est-ce pas?” It is, isn’t it? His hand moves up your leg, and you instinctively move towards the touch, move yourself closer to the edge of the counter. He moves up, up your thigh, to your hip, threatening to go further. He doesn’t, though. He stalls there, searching your eyes for the permission to be there in the first place. 

And then, just like that, he kisses you. 

It starts soft, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, but you don’t. It’s a gentle collision, tender and hesitant and exploring whatever new waters you’d just sat yourselves in. His lips are so soft against yours, so careful, so sweet, and then his tongue is slipping through your lips, settling into the kiss now that he knows you’re going to kiss back. And you do, you kiss back, until it’s all hurried and messy, noses bumping against each other, teeth scraping each other’s lips. Until you’re hazy and dizzy and have to pull apart for air. 

“Peut être,” maybe, you chuckle into his mouth, kiss him again quickly. “Peut-être que tu devrais accepter l'offre de Hugo de trouver un tuteur,” maybe you should take Hugo up on his offer to find a tutor, you joke, and his smile is sweet against your lips. 

“Peut être,” maybe…  he says, fiddles with the buttons of your jeans hurriedly, like they’re going to seal shut if he doesn’t undo the button that very moment, and then he unzips the zipper, “ou peut-être,” or maybe… 

You kiss him again. Your core aches, the knot in the pit of your stomach pulling itself tighter and tiger with each millimeter further he moves. “Tu pourrais juste,” you could just. 

“Je pourrais juste,” I could just, and he dips a hand into your pants. 

You sigh, react instantly to his touch and his lips are on your again. Your hips move against his hand like it’s the first time you’ve ever been touched—which, this whole thing feels so charged that it might as well be. Charles’ hand moves in flat circles over your clit, pushing farther, deeper, slipping a single finger inside of you. 

You hiss at the movement, kiss him harder when your breath is back, pull him hard against your lips by the back of his neck. “Putain, tu es tellement mouillé,” Fuck, you’re so wet, he says. 

You nod, talk into his mouth, “Je sais, je sais,” I know, I know.

You reach between your bodies to palm him, find him already hard in his jeans, taking in a sharp breath when you touch him there. His other hand grabs at your tits, pushing and pulling and squeezing over your shirt before finally slipping under, haphazardly pushing your bra out of the way and palming them, kissing mumbled profanities into the skin on your neck. 

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine—he ruts against the counter when you do, smirks against your lips and hums whatever noise he’s attempting to swallow. 

You sigh when he pulls his hand out from your jeans, but he’s quick to get them off of you, pulling them and your underwear off as soon as you raise yourself up off the counter. It’s cold, so cold, but his hands are equally warm, burn against your body as he explores every inch of available skin. 

You work away at his jeans, pushing down his pants and underwear as far as the angle allows you to. His cock springs out of the elastic waistband and the only thing you can think is how pretty it looks, all swollen and twitching and wet with precum. It looks painful, almost, how hard he is. But so, so pretty. “C'est tellement chaud,” this is so hot, you say. 

“Tu es tellement belle,” you’re so hot, he replies. 

You’re expecting for it to all boil over, then, for him to sink into you, fill you up with his perfect pretty dick, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lowers himself to your cunt and looks at you with nauseating eye contact. “Dis moi quoi faire,” tell me what to do, he says. 

“Quoi que ce soit. Faire n'importe quoi,” Anything. Do anything, you beg. 

He does, he does—licks a long stripe through your folds, forces your head to the sky and a sweet moan from your lips. He holds your legs apart with a hand on the inside of each thigh—strong, warm, big—and fucks you with his tongue. It’s messy and natural, but every move is intentional, working towards the goal of getting you off before he even fucks you. And he will, he will, because he listens so well. 

Every direction, even the jumbled, incoherent moans that leave your mouth, even the little twitches of your legs or the way your hips move against his mouth—it's all an instruction for him. What to do. What to continue doing exactly like he’s doing. “Juste comme ça. N'arrêtez pas,” just like that. Don’t stop, you chant, and he doesn’t stop. He holds his pace, and then you’re coming in his mouth, fingers slipping on the countertop in search of some kind of grip, some kind of stability as you writhe against him.

 When you’ve come down, come back to reality and the cold countertop and his warm hands, he’s kissing you again, cock hard and twitching between your bodies. You take him in your hand and he winces, groans when you start to stroke him, to spread the precum around his tip with your thumb. “Ça fait du bien,” feels good, he mutters. 

“Laisse-moi t'aider,” Let me help you, you insist. He doesn’t need much convincing. None at all, really. 

“Est-tu toujours... sur le?” Are you still… on the, he asks, tapping your arm. 

“Mon implant? Ouais, ouais,”My implant? Yeah. yeah. 

He kisses you again, licks into your mouth in a way that feels half-illegal, like all the rules of the universe have been broken. “Tu veux que j'utilise un préservatif?” Do you want me to use a condom?

You shake your head against his lips, shrug somewhere in the distance, far away from where your mouth is on his. “Je m'en fiche, je suis propre,” I don’t care, I’m clean.

“Moi aussi,” Me too. 

"D'accord, d'accord. Putain," Okay, okay. Fuck, and then he's slapping the head of his cock against your pussy, making you quiver with every touch. He drags it over your clit, through your folds, and then he’s sinking into you. His fingers bruise into your hips as he ruts into you, you reaching down to circle you clit while he fucks you full of him. "Putain, Dieu," Fuck, God, he moans. 

“Oui c'est bien?” Yeah, it's good? You ask. 

“C'est tellement bon, putain, c'est tellement bon, tu es si sexy,” It’s so good, fuck—it’s so good, you’re so hot. You don’t know if its his words, or that the seal’s properly broken now, but right as his dick slips out of a particularly measured thrust, you’re coming around the air, shoving a finger back inside to ease the ache of emptiness, pulling it back out and guiding his cock back in. He fucks you so good. So hard. So deep, just the sounds of each others groans, of heavy sighs and skin slapping filling the room, bouncing off the walls. “Je suis près,” I’m close, he tells you. “Je suis si proche, putain. Je vais,” I’m so close, fuck. I’m gonna, he repeats, fucking into you hard. Hard, burying himself in your cunt longer and longer each time. 

“Fais-le,” Do it, you say, “laisse-moi l'avoir, je le veux,” let me have it, I want it. And then he’s coming. Hard. Bottomed out in you, groaning against your neck, and filling you up with him. Fuck, he breathes. You can’t make a distinction between a sigh versus a laugh. “Ça va?”Are you okay? He asks. 

Your breath is heavy, heart thumping in your chest, in your ears, in your toes. “Je suis,”  I’m, you laugh. “Ouais, je suis plus que… je vais bien,” Yeah, I’m more than… I’m okay, you finally sputter out into his patient eyes. You think that’s the reason you stutter—the eye contact. “Es-tu?” Are you?

“Ouais,” Yeah, he says, running a hand through his hair, nodding.  “Oui. Très bien.” Yes. Very okay.

“Bien,” Good, you nod, and then, with all the vulnerability in the world: “Étais-je bien?” Was I alright?

He smiles, moves his hand to brush your flyaways from your forehead, to stop them before they can get in your face. “Tu étais…” You were… he laughs, and there’s no mistaking it now. When he does it, you’re reminded just how full of him you still are, of the ache you’ll feel when he finally pulls out. “Je ne pense pas que quiconque puisse avoir un problème avec toi,” I don’t think anyone could have any issue with you. 

“Oh,”, you chuckle, eyes locking onto the clock hung on the kitchen wall. You can hear the second hand clicking around the same way you can hear your own pulse. “Bon alors,” Good then.

“Et moi?” And me? He asks, and pulls out slowly before you can begin to answer. There’s a silence in the room, just the clock and your heart and your breathing, his eyes glued to your cunt like he’s admiring his handy work. “C'étaient…” Those were…

“Tous deux très réels,” Both very real, you nod, biting the inside of your cheek, catching his eyes when he leans over the sink, wetting a paper towel and ringing it out. “Je ne suis pas doué pour faire semblant,” I’m not that good at faking it. 

“Bon,” Nice.

“Je ne pense pas que nous soyons le problème, alors,” I don’t think we’re the problem, then, you chuckle, eyes snapping back to the clock, mind to the feel of the counter under your fingertips. You can’t think about anything more, of any other feeling or sense of taste or smell you’re experiencing or it will be too much. 

“Non je ne pense pas,” No, I don’t think so, he continues, and starts to clean you up, warm hands on your legs again while he runs the cool paper towel through your folds. You recoil at the cold, a shiver running up your entire body and his eyes jump to yours—”Désolé,” Sorry, he mumbles. 

“C'est bon,” It’s okay, you squeak, and it sounds like you’re about an inch tall. Utter mortification will do that to you, something this fucking awkward making you incredibly aware of everything happening in the room around you, of every touch of his warm hands on your skin. A lot of things are different now. Everything is different. 

“Je, euh. Putain,” I, uh. Fuck, you resort back to what you know best, to the only thing you can think about that doesn’t spiral back to the feeling of him finishing inside you. “Je n'arrive pas à croire que je doive nettoyer à nouveau ce comptoir,” I can't believe I have to clean this counter off again. 

He laughs again, tossing the paper towel into the trash can. It sits on top of everything else like a billboard, screaming about what it had been used for. The lid on the trash can doesn’t close like it’s supposed to. “C'est à ça que tu penses en ce moment?” That’s what you’re thinking about right now?

“Ouais,” Yeah.

“Tu es tellement bizarre, putain,” You’re so fucking weird, he says, adjusting himself, tucking back into his boxers, pulling them and his jeans up to make himself proper again. You have to hop off the counter to do the same, collecting and correcting your things as fast as you can because you can feel his eyes on your figure while you dress, and it feels too intimate. 

“Je ne suis pas bizarre,” I am not weird, you quip, buttoning your jeans and pulling up the zipper, carefully fixing your shirt, your bra, smoothing all of your clothes out over your skin. 

“Tu es. Tu es tellement bizarre.” You are. You’re so weird. 

“Peu importe,” Whatever, you mumble, quickly closing the lid to the trash can. 

The night has run its course by now, and then some. You spend fifteen minutes silently moving around each other in the kitchen, the whole room quiet enough to hear a pin drop in the downstairs lobby. You spend at least ten of them cleaning off the counter, which doesn’t feel so cold anymore, at least not where you were sitting. 

“Tu peux rester, tu sais…” You can stay, y’know… he finally breaks the silence. “Si tu veux.”  If you want.

“D’accord,” Okay, you nod. “Je ne… je ne sais pas si c’est une bonne idée.” I don’t… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

“C'est vrai, ouais,” Right, yeah, he says, and the place threatens to fall back into negative decibel levels. “Je t'entends, tout ce que tu veux.” I hear you, whatever you want. 

“Désolée,” Sorry, you choke.

“Ne le soit pas, vraiment,” Don’t be, really, he assures, but you still are, still feel like you're stepping on a little baby bug that’s on its way home to its family. It’s not that you don’t want to stay, it’s more that you… you don’t trust yourself to stay, and you don’t trust him not to turn this into a messy rebound thing. If you slept in his bed tonight and got a text next weekend that he’d gotten back together with his girlfriend, you’d feel like a piece of shit. It’s bad enough that when they do inevitably reconnect, you’re already never going to be able to look her in the eyes again. 

“Tu m'enverras un texto quand tu rentreras à la maison?” You’ll text me when you get home? He asks, standing opposite you in his doorway. 

“Bien sûr,” Of course, you nod, fidgeting with the keys on your lanyard. “Nous n’avons pas simplement ruiné notre amitié, n’est-ce pas?” We didn’t just ruin our friendship, did we?

“Non,” he answers, without leaving space for a hesitation, to really wonder about your question. 

You smile at your keys, bite back a chuckle at just how quick he’d responded to you, about how sure he seemed. “Parce que tu es une de mes personnes préférées, tu sais,” Because you’re one of my favorite people, y’know.

“Tu es ma personne préférée,” You’re my favorite person.

You swallow, and when you look up from your keys, he’s staring right back at you. The comfort in the silence is palpable, and it makes you shy, pushes a nervous laugh from your lips. Charles just nods, certain in his choice of words. It makes you even more sheepish. 

You’re completely aware that he doesn’t look at everyone like this, that he never looked at her like this. “Que s'est-il passé entre toi et elle cette fois, d'ailleurs?” What happened with you and her this time, anyway?

He sighs. “Tu veux vraiment savoir?” You really want to know?

“Ouais,” Yeah, you nod. “Je fais,” I do.

“Je euh,” I uh, his fingers fidget with each other, pulling on the joints and twisting his rings. He doesn’t look at you when he tells you, watches the metal spin around his finger. “Je suis rentré de chez toi le week-end dernier et elle attendait dehors que je la laisse entrer. J'ai complètement oublié qu'elle venait après le travail.” I came home from your place last weekend and she was waiting outside for me to let her in. I totally forgot she was coming over after work. You regret asking as soon as he starts explaining. It’s not your business, and you could have gone your whole life without knowing that you were the catalyst for it. “On s'est disputé, elle m'a dit de choisir qui était le plus important,” We got into a fight, she told me to choose who was more important, he shrugs, like it’s nothing. Like he was being asked to flip a coin, asked what color the sky was. “Je te choisi,” I chose you.

“Charles,” your head falls to the side defeatedly. You wish he never told you this, even though you asked. You wish he knew better, that you knew better.

“Je sais,” I know, he nods, and it sounds like he feels genuinely bad about the truth.  “Je suis désolé,” I’m sorry. 

“Je devrais y aller,” I should go.

“Ouais…” Yeah… he hesitates, his hand lingering around his front door, refusing to close it on you. “Ouais,” yeah.

“Juste... ne le fais pas,” Just… don’t. You stop yourself—or you try to stop yourself—from speaking. It’s unsuccessful, how could it not be when he’s staring at you intently with those big green eyes, clinging to every word that leaves your lips. “Ne te remets pas avec elle S'il te plaît,”  Don’t get back with her. Please.

“Je ne vais pas,” I won’t.

You nod, even though you know he will. He always does. They always get back together. It’s nice to pretend, though, for a few days. To pretend that anything is ever going to come of what’s happened this evening. 

“Bonne nuit, Charles,” Goodnight..

“Bonne nuit.” Goodnight.

[webbluvrsugar]

Hii!! I love your blog, you asked for Ethan requests and I miss that too.

So, I was thinking about virgin Ethan with an experienced reader in which she loves to tease him in front of their friends. He gets desperate not knowing what to do.

a/n: hiii! Thank you so much! Also to clarify, I decided not to make any of them have sexual interactions just for the thrill of it. ps: you get a sneak peek for my new theme after October

(slight)bully!reader x Ethan Landry

Ever since Ethan made that comment, yeah that comment, the comment on where you were talking about ghostface and he bluntly spat out a “wait, am I gonna die a virgin?”, you haven’t let that go, in fact, it’s the only thing you talk about, and Ethan is just so pissed because — here you come everyday in those miniskirts of yours, eying him up and down before spatting out some joke related to him being a virgin, it’s a little bit tiring.

Like for example, when you’re talking to Mindy and he’s just nearby, sitting down next to chad on some random ice cream shop you’ve decided to go to;

“Awh, sorry Mindy but I can’t, got something on Saturday already.” You sip on your milkshake, strawberry, filled with whipped cream and sprinkles to the top, discounted of course, the cashier spent too much time staring at your boobs — and so was Ethan, but what does that matter, anyways? “Bet Dan’s expecting to get to third-base or sum’,” you pause, Ethan has to pretend he isn’t listening in. “might let him, he’s kinda cute.” You lick your lips to wipe away the cream, turning away to look at Ethan, he can almost predict what’s coming out your lips.

“But Ethan’s probably free on Saturday, right?” You chuckle, lean your face on your palm. “It’s not like he knows anything about it, I mean…”

“I — I do have something on Saturday…” he interrupts, you feign an expression of shock.

“Oh, really? What is it, finally found a girl that would blow you off?” You joke, Mindy nudges your shoulder. “What? ‘M just playing.” You flip your hair, lean in closer to him. “You’re not offended, are you, E?”

“It’s fine.” He returns to his own drink, his gaze going down, his cheeks turning to a pale shade of pink.

“No but really, just between us, what’s that you gotta do on Saturday?” You raise a brow, tilt your head slightly.

“Just… econ, not much.” He still avoids your gaze, because he fears that if he looks in your direction, his eyes won’t meet yours.

“Econ?” You laugh, roll your eyes to mock him. “God, Ethan, you’re so boring.” He shifts in his seat, his hand slightly flexes on his glass, he should know you really weren’t interesting. “It’s a shame though, you kinda do need a fix.” You whisper to him.

He blushes even more, your smirk only gets brighter.

“Who knows, maybe one day we’ll get to third-base too.” You giggle at the way his eyebrows raise with your simple mutter, his eyes widening before you turn to face Mindy again.

It’s cruel, really.

You’re cruel.

But he can’t help but repeat your words over and over when his fist is tight around his dick.

[yvvxs]

Quality Time...

↪ ft. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

Cleaning Argenti's ship with him, getting the dust out of the finer details alongside him. It would be a hassle usually, but it was much better when he was with you. You who were like an Emanator of Beauty to him, he could never get sick of you, or your presence.

Sitting beside Aventurine in the casino as he wins his 54th game of Blackjack that night. His arm wrapped around your waist, smiling and having fun together as you watch the endless riches flow into his bank account.

Going on a late night stroll with Blade. The city was busy and bustling, but that wasn't going to bother either of you. Just the two of you, no script to follow. No guards to seize him, he's in disguise anyways. No one will notice him through his... Sunglasses and mask. It'll work.. Neither are his companions or mara there to annoy him. Not now, as you enjoy each others' presence.

Running through the ships of the IPC with Boothill. The men shooting at the both of you. He has your back, so he won't let you get injured by some bullets. He even has time to taunt them with some famous dance moves as the two of you evade their attacks.

Digging through trash cans together with Caelus. He could care less about the crowds of people watching this. He was enjoying it, giving you little small trinkets he thinks you'd like. A toy that someone threw away, a bouquet from a rejected man.. A golden trash bag? Well, it's the thought that counts, right? It was cute just watching him dig through the bins to find something for you.

Staying up and updating the data bank with Dan Heng. The faint sound of machinery and typing the only sounds in the room. Other than the sound of pen on paper from when he writes something down. Alternatively, laying beside Imbibitor Lunae in his supposed bed. But it was so much comfier, especially when you were wrapped in the arms, and tail, of your boyfriend.

Reading a book with Dr. Ratio at the local library. A small treat for the both of you as he had just finished his lecture. Refreshing his own mind with both the intelligent writings, and your presence. At least he didn't have to deal with any idiots at the moment.

Learning to brew up some nice drinks with Gallagher. He shares his favorite brew with you, and you share your own concoction with him. Clinking your glasses together in a toast, drinking one anothers' mix of flavors.

Adopting some new plants with Gepard. Trying to get a nice flower to take care of together. Placing it in a nice flowerbed with some ferilizer, and watering them thoroughly. You'll have to teach him some tips and tricks to gardening. Or maybe you're learning alongside him too. Either way, it'll be fun taking care of a little plant baby together, don't you think?

Napping with General Jing Yuan at work. Sneakily giving him an excuse to slack off for a bit. They wouldn't dare disturb your slumber, would they? How cruel of them if they tried. Inhaling your scent as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. Drifting further into sleep in the comfort of your arms.

Watching Luka as he trains for his next match at the Fight Club. A moment just for the two of you to spend together. You motivating him to keep going and get stronger. To win even more battles. He couldn't do it without you.

Walking around the different stalls the Luofu offered with Luocha. Buying a few things from some merchants just for you. Away from any prying eyes, in a world made for just the two of you.

Carrying a few supplies for Natasha's clinic with Sampo. Being able to help the Underworld with him being an enjoyable task. Especially with him, who wouldn't be entertained by his presence? You knew you definitely were.

Having afternoon tea with Sunday. Away from the responsibilities of being the head of the Oak Family. Just a small quiet moment between the you and the halovian. Some sugar cookies going along with the drinks. He can't help but feel much better with you.

Sitting in the Astral Express carriage with Welt. Watching the stars fly by, the meteors go past the windows. Maybe looking up at the light shaped like a whale, reaching out for it while you lay your head on his lap. It was nice spending mundane moments with him, alongside the more fun and action-filed ones.

↪ I think having some quality time with them is nice :)

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.