#i finally reached the point in my life where i want to live and meet other people who will change my life and then i get the news i might be

[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Chapter: 6/6

Word Count: 2079

Description: Roman and Iris have their first fight, and make things official.

Warnings: Mild angst, arguing, Dom/sub dynamic, praise, punishment, spanking/paddling, dirty talk, degradation, begging, unprotected sex (both clean, she's on the pill), p in v, nipple play,

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

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A couple of months had passed since Roman and Iris' date. They'd gone out every weekend since, he'd even come over for dinner one night last week, he'd finally won Imani over with an autograph from Rhea Ripley and arranged a face time call for Amira to meet 'Maui'. Things were going well.

Iris walks into the living room where her sister Jax is sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"Hey Jax," she says, plopping down next to her. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Jax turns to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure, what's up?" she asks, turning off the TV.

"Roman and I are going out on Saturday night," she says. "And I was wondering if you could watch the girls for me?" Iris asked

Jax smiles but shakes her head no.

"Sorry, sis," she says. "Roman gave one of his cousins my number and we're going out this weekend too. You'll have to ask LeLe to babysit."

Iris's eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly recovers and gives Jax a supportive smile.

"Oh, really?" she says, trying to hide her shock. "That's great, I'm happy for you"

Jax grins, clearly excited about her date.

"Thanks, sis," she says. "I really like this guy. I hope it goes well."

Saturday arrives, Kiley was luckily free to stay with the girls. Imani was pretty much old enough to babysit but Iris didn't like the idea of putting adult responsibilities such as childcare on her daughter who isnt even old enough to drive. She knew what that felt like. Iris gets into the car with Roman, though he notices something is off.

Roman notices that Iris seems a bit quieter than usual as they drive to his place for dinner. He reaches over and takes her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he asks, concern in his voice.

Iris turns to Roman, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Can I ask you something?" she says, her voice firm.

Roman looks at her, confusion evident on his face. "Yeah, of course," he says.

Iris takes a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Why didn't you tell me you were setting up Jax with one of your cousins?" she asks, her voice betraying her annoyance.

Roman sighs, seeing that he apparently messed up."I didn't think it was a big deal," he says, avoiding her gaze. "I thought it would be a fun surprise for her."

Iris shakes her head, her annoyance growing. "It's not just a fun surprise, Roman," she says. "It's my sister's life. You can't just go around setting her up with random people without telling me first."

"Jey's a good guy. He's not a random person, I grew up with him. He'll take care of her, and I'll make damn sure of it." Roman said.

Iris rolls her eyes, clearly not convinced.

"I'm sure he's a great guy, but that's not the point," she says. "You should have asked me first before you went and did something like that."

"I was under the impression Jax is a grown woman who can decide herself who she wants to go out with." Roman argued.

Iris's anger boils over and she turns to Roman, her voice rising.

"You know what, Roman? You're so damn inconsiderate sometimes. You just do whatever you want without thinking about how it affects other people. You didn't even think to ask me how I felt about you setting up my sister with one of your crazy cousins."

Roman's expression darkens and he looks at Iris with a warning glare. "Watch your tone, Iris," he says firmly. "I don't appreciate being talked to like that."

Iris scoffs and crosses her arms, not backing down.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your little feelings, Chief?" she says sarcastically.

Roman chuckles darkly, a sly smile spreading across his face."You decided if you're gonna be my sub or not?"

Iris hesitates for a moment, simply because the question seemed random in this particular moment but then nods her head. "Yes," she says quietly, her eyes locked on Roman's.

Roman's smile widens, something like an evil grin as he hears her answer.

"Good girl," he says as the car comes to a stop at his house. The minute They get out he throws Iris over his shoulder.

Iris squeals in surprise as Roman picks her up and carries her into his house.

"Roman, put me down!" she protests, but he just chuckles, gives her a firm smack on the ass and ignores her.

"You remember your Safeword?" Roman asked

"Yes, Sir." Iris confirmed.

"Good" Roman carries her into the bedroom and throws her onto the bed. He stands over her, his eyes dark with desire and dominance. "I'm about to teach you a lesson in respecting your Dom," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

Iris looks up at Roman, her eyes wide with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "I wasn't disrespectful," she protests, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman leans down, his face inches from hers. "Oh, really?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You weren't disrespectful in the car when you talked back to me like that?"

Iris looks away, knowing she can't deny it.

"Okay, maybe I was a little disrespectful," she admits grudgingly.

Roman grins, clearly enjoying her admission.

"That's right," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And now you're going to pay for it."

Roman leans in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'm going to punish you, Iris," he whispers. "And you gon' take it  like a good girl."

Roman pulls back and looks down at her, his eyes burning with desire. "Strip," he commands.

Iris slowly begins to remove her clothes. She can feel Roman's eyes on her, watching every move she makes.

Once she's completely naked, Roman steps back and looks her up and down.

"You're so beautiful," he says, his voice rough with desire. "But so damn bratty. Your tribal chief is gonna have to teach you to use that pretty lil mouth for something other than talking back."

Roman walks over to the dresser and opens a drawer, pulling out a cute heart shaped leather paddle. He turns back to Iris, holding the paddle in his hand.

"Turn around, bend over the bed." he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Iris does as she's told, bending over the bed and presenting her plump ass to Roman. She can feel her heart racing in anticipation of what's to come.

Roman runs his hand over her smooth skin, admiring the view."You have such a pretty ass," he says, his voice low and husky. "all mine"

Roman raises the paddle and brings it down on her ass with a sharp crack. The impact sends a wave of pain through Iris's body, but it's quickly followed by a rush of pleasure.

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

Iris can feel her skin heating up under the onslaught of the paddle. The pain is intense, but there's that strange pleasure mixed in with it. She can feel herself getting wetter and wetter with each smack.

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

"Looks like you're enjoying this hm?" Roman says, his voice full of satisfaction.

Roman stops spanking her and steps back, admiring the marks he's left on her skin.

"You're such a naughty girl," he says, his eyes glinting with desire. "But you take your punishment so well."

Iris looks up at Roman, her eyes pleading.

"Please, Roman," she begs, her voice trembling with need. "Please fuck me."

Roman grins, enjoying the sight of her begging for him.

"You want it that bad, huh?" he says, his voice rough with desire. "You want me to fill you up and make you mine?"

Roman leans down, his face inches from hers.

"Where's all that attitude now, huh?" he asks, his voice mocking. "You were so mouthy in the car, but now look at you. Begging for your tribal chief's dick like a little slut."

Roman grins, enjoying the power he has over her.

"You need me, huh?" he says, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You need me to fill you up and make you feel good? You think you deserve it?" He casually brings the paddle down again, to her surprise.

Iris gasps as the paddle connects with her skin.

"I do deserve it," she says, her voice shaky. "I've been bad, and I needed to be punished. But I took it like a good girl! Please, My tribal chief."

Roman nods, his eyes glinting with obvious satisfaction.

"You're right, you did take it like a good girl," he says, running his hand over her freshly paddled ass. "And now you've earned your reward."

Roman moves closer to her, his body pressing against hers. He leans down and whispers in her ear.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, Iris. I'm going to make you scream my name."

Roman quickly undresses, his clothes falling to the floor in a heap. He positions himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Without warning, he thrusts into her, burying himself deep inside her.

Iris cries out as he enters her, the sudden fullness overwhelming her senses. She can feel him deep inside her, stretching her open and filling her up completely.

Roman starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back, and whispers in her ear.

"You feel so good, Iris. So tight and wet for me."

Iris moans in response, arching her back to meet his thrusts. She can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her body responding to his every move.

"Harder," she gasps, her voice hoarse with desire. "Please, harder."

Roman obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and more forceful. He grips her hips tighter, pulling her back against him as he pounds into her.

"You like it rough, huh?" he growls, his breath hot against her ear. "You like it when I take you like this?"

Iris can only moan a soft unintelligible "yes, my tribal chief" in response her body too overwhelmed with pleasure to form clear words. She can feel the pressure building inside her, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

Roman leans in close to her ear again, his voice low and menacing.

"I'm going to fuck you senseless, babygirl," he growls, his hips snapping against hers. "I'm going to make you forget your own name. You're mine now."

Roman's words only add to the intensity of the moment, pushing Iris closer and closer to the edge. She can feel herself teetering on the brink, her body trembling with need.

Roman can feel her body tensing up, and he knows she's close. He reaches around and grabs her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple hard causing her to cry out from the intoxicating painful pleasure she's grown to love.

"Come for me, Iris," he growls, his voice commanding. "Come all over my cock."

Iris's body obeys, the combination of pain and pleasure sending her over the edge. She screams his name as she comes, her body convulsing around him.

Roman continues to thrust into her, riding out her orgasm until he finally reaches his own climax. He groans as he spills himself inside her, his body shaking with the force of it.

They collapse onto the bed, both of them panting heavily. Roman rolls off of her and pulls her into his arms, holding her close.

Iris rests her head on his chest, still trying to catch her breath. She feels sated and exhausted, but also strangely content.

Roman runs his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle now.

"You did good, baby," he says, his voice softer than before. "You took everything I gave you and more."

Iris smiles, feeling a sense of pride at his words.

"I just wanted to please you," she says, looking up at him. "I wanted to be good for you."

Roman chuckles and kisses her forehead.

"You were perfect," he says. "And you're all mine now."

Iris snuggles closer to him, feeling a sense of possessiveness wash over her. She knows she belongs to him now, and she doesn't want to be anywhere else. He belongs to her too.

"I'm glad you swiped right" Roman said.

Iris smiles in response, "Me too."

Previous Chapter

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Epilogue or nah?

**UPDATE**

Epilogue out now!

Read it here

[skin-bible]

I've really been into listening to the Javelin album and crying lately 💅🏻

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[ane-doodles]

Make it turquoise!

Cult of the Lamb Narindersona and Lambsona :D

Special thanks to @linkerbell for motivating me to draw, name and finally share them

Below information extracted from a conversation on discord:

Aneerinder:

(Using he/him for this occasion)

I wanted to maintain both the theme of the felines and the god of death but with a bit of the Japanese aesthetic that I like and other details that I usually use in my drawings.

First, the species is still a serval (like my Narinder) but in white. The stripes and spots they have are painted by him himself, except for the ears and tail, which are natural.

Instead of just making him the god of death, I wanted to base him a little more on the idea of a prophet, who receives messages from the future and teaches them to others if you ask in the right way. He is considered the writer of destiny, even though as such it is outside his area, how someone lives or dies is outside his power, he only receives them and archives the stories of their life.

Based on this idea of a writer/illustrator, the idea was born that his hands would function as a writing instrument (similar to this character in the movie 9 who had pen(? fingers to write). Constantly gushing ichor from these using them as ink…

Jumping to the moment of imprisonment hehehe

He is partially blinded using a paper talisman behind his head. To prevent it from being able to write or create something with the ink/ichor, it is surrounded by water, so that the ink always runs.

He also ends up being immobilized with red ropes as an allegory to the "red thread of destiny", especially his right hand is especially tangled to prevent him from continuing to "write the destiny of the gods". To prevent the ropes from breaking there are also paper talismans hanging from them.

In short, prevent him from writing/drawing in any way in order to keep the destiny of the gods in his hands. He ends up becoming dependent on other senses, little talking, much listening.

He loves stories, after all his job as a god is also to record the lives of mortals.

Their followers could ask for glimpses of their futures, which were considered predictions.

When someone dies and reaches the other side, they are given a scroll with a copy of the record of their life.

I'm still thinking about how to draw him, but if I design a shape for him as a follower, I'll most likely end up wearing glasses to see.

You will never in your life get him to close the haori he usually wears.

Aniki:

Ok lamb, she/her this time

The lamb genocide occurs during an expedition trip. She coincidentally returns to her village the day it is destroyed. Easily resigned, once she finished digesting the idea that she was the last of her kind she had no choice but to move on.

She's not built for combat, she's even terribly bad at dodging (like me qwq) which is why she dies often.

[Here I have an inside joke in which the god tells her "I may be blind, but I clearly see a lot of death in your future" jsjsjs]

Their crusades mainly consist of collecting resources and trading with traders.

She is very good at managing the cult, to the point where in the first five years it was already self-sustaining. She is also usually quick to meet the demands of her followers and thereby increase the faith of the cult, avoiding at all costs giving sermons because she is too shy to do so. Despite this, in casual conversations with cultists he often talks about the god of death in a way that unconsciously raises their faith.

She never takes the cult on herself, because she couldn't be interested in the idea of taking that burden on herself, which is why all the cult's statues and decorations revolve around the cat.

Now, having a self-sustaining cult and a faith that is constantly growing, she ends up having too much free time, so she spends her time putting together a collection of objects she finds around, making decorations for the cult, playing and exploring.

When she dies she tells stories of common events that occur in the cult, and in return the god tells her stories of past lives that have reached his domain. They have a constant exchange of stories which is what allows them to get closer.

She changes over time (new design yipee) and the crown upon returning to the god grants her a blessing in which she becomes the "eyes of god"

The new design only has some minor changes from the original.

Since she never had the ambition to take power, divinity never affected her.

She only had small surges of devotion and power that made her possessed by the god and that way she was able to defeat the bishops (similar to what a writer would do with his characters)

[thedarkdisgrace]

Ok, follow up post to the original cause I wanted to actually offer my analysis/interpretation on this.

I feel like this is a right/left brain analogy 🧵

Dazai covering his right side, the side supposedly responsible for the emotional & artistic things. It says alot about his mindset, accurate for that time.

It’s intriguing, then, Kouyou covers the “logical” side

I feel like this lends to why Chuuya & Kouyou do get along well. While both Chuuya & Kouyou are no doubt very intelligent (Asagiri literally refers to Chuuya as a genius) they both still lean very much into their emotional side as well. Even if Kouyou seemingly does so less.

Kouyou reveals herself, however, not only in her care for Chuuya but we mainly see it how she handled the situation with Kyoka.

She could have insisted Kyoka come back without ever changing her mind but when Dazai presents her with a way to save Kyoka from dark, she agrees quickly.

Kouyou clearly cares & wanted to help & protect Kyoka even if she went about it poorly. She was trying to help based on her past experiences, lest we forget that she tried to leave the mafia herself once, for *love* no less. She also tends to get emotional when talking about her past or her wish to help Kyoka.

But once she was presented with another solution, a far better one, she didn’t do “what’s best for the mafia”. Kouyou agreed to what was best for Kyoka & that was definitely a more emotional choice.

This is an area where Chuuya & Kouyou align. So, of course they would get along.

Chuuya always seems to find the balance between his logic and emotion. However, he can easily & often does lean more into his emotional side first, then his logical side.

It’s similar for Kouyou, even if we don’t see it as much from her.

Back to Dazai then, when he left the mafia & the cover on Dazai’s “emotional side” was gone Dazai seemed to also move more towards that balancing of the two sides.

He started off heavily relying on his logical brain & struggled emotionally. Often feeling numb or apathetic mostly, hence his suicidal ideation.

Then he meets Chuuya & this shifts. Chuuya forces him to experience new feelings. As Chuuya is a living breathing example of most things Dazai felt the world lacked. It opened Dazai to the idea that there is more to the world, there is more to *people*. Chuuya intrigues Dazai enough to make him want to live a little longer again. Chuuya gave him a reason to keep going, a promise of more.

From the moment he met Chuuya, it was a process of letting more & more emotions seep into his mind & his heart. We see how he feared for Chuuya in 15 even after they just met, even though Dazai *knew* it was a plan.

I might even venture to go as far as to say Dazai may not have feared for someone else’s life that hard before. It was a burst of unrecognizable emotions to him. After this, he only had more & more emotion seep in as the years went by. In Storm Bringer he was ready to sacrifice the city to give Chuuya a choice.

That relationship opened Dazai up to others later, namely Oda & Ango. Which only further encouraged the intermingling of his logical brain and his emotions. Then reaching the point at which the bandages were finally removed entirely and then he, like Chuuya, moved to striving to find the balance rather than relying on one side.

Bringing us back to current Dazai as he is still attempting to find that balance.

He still leans more towards his logical side. This, of course, in contrast to Chuuya who, while intelligent, more easily leans into the emotional.

Yet another thing between them that completes & balances each other. Soukoku will always pull the other back when drifting too far.

So, of course, Soukoku complement each other & it benefits them both.

Having Kouyou on Chuuya’s other side I think also does help Chuuya stay grounded while in the mafia. Chuuya isn’t one to lose who he is but I think having someone else who he knows *cares* like he does helps.

Now, additionally, if we apply this to Beast, I think this also says alot about beast Dazai & why Asagiri says beastzai would be the hardest for someone to portray.

Because *this* Dazai, is perhaps *too* far into his emotional side. He’s always intelligent but in beast, his actions aren’t fully logical, they’re emotional.

He appears cold & calculating as always but he saw another version of himself suffer the great loss of a best friend & allowed his emotional desire to prevent that from happening take control. Thus, his emotional side takes over, thus him covering the opposite side from canon Dazai, he’s covering his “logical” side.

I feel like this is the main difference between all the various Dazai we’ve seen.

PM Dazai relied heavily on his logical side, especially before meeting Chuuya. He rarely took emotion into account unless it involved the 3 people he actually cared for. We see him make emotional choices when it involves Chuuya, Oda, and Ango. Dazai did seem to let more and more emotion seep in over time as a result of knowing them, however, leading to that moment the bandages are removed.

Beastzai is leaning far too heavily into his emotional side, getting lost in it even. Acting solely on an emotional desire rather than a logical one. His desire to prevent a tragedy. He only was using his intellect to further that emotional desire.

Canonzai went through a steady progression, meeting Chuuya starts to open him up, this extending over time to Oda & Ango, leading to the cover on his “emotional” side being taken off.

But beastzai skipped all of that, all the *progression* to that point for canonzai & so beastzai just got all these intense emotions he never experienced before all at once when he saw canonzai’s memories & therefore he sunk far too deep, too quickly into his emotions.

Now current/ADA Dazai is the balance of the two extremes, and seemingly the closest to happiness.

ADA Dazai uses his logical brain as always but he also actually takes emotion into account as well and has more people he actually cares for now.

I think that says alot to the theme of bsd, leaning into that “everything is grey” dynamic. Everything is about the *balance* of things. Showcasing that anything in extremes in either direction doesn’t work.

Anyway, just some thoughts I had and interpretations of mine. Take them as you want, as always.

Oh and just to be clear, I don’t think Dazai was ever “emotionless”, even at his worse. Even if he was numb and apathetic. He was also lonely.

Just saying the more people he came to care about (Chuuya, Oda, Ango then later the ADA) the more he was able to feel a variety of emotion.

My original post:

[luimagines]

Maybe a scenario where the chain is female hero's Era and they meet her era's link which is her little brother of like 6 and she confesses that the quest was actually for him.

LITTLE LINK!?!!?!?!? MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY SON!?!? ABSOLUTELY!!!! XD

Everybody get ready for more Lucky. I will never have enough of this boy. ^.^*

Side note: Reader is written as Gender Neutral per the rules of the blog, but this isn't really about them anyway. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"Just a little closer." You say under your breath as you push aside the surrounding foliage. You step into a well beaten path. there's roots sticking out of it and the dirt is bare and dry, but you know that it's safe to travel along and that it'll take you straight to your destination.

"We've been walking for hours." Legend groans. "Are we there yet?"

"Almost." You hold the branch open for the others to pass through.

"This Link of yours must be a pain in neck to get to if his lives this far out into the middle of nowhere." Hyrule spits out a leaf.

You snort, keeping it vague for the sake of keeping him safe. They'll know the truth soon enough and frankly, you're scared to see the aftermath. "It's just up the path."

"Finally!"

"Come on! Let's go!" Wind cheers and takes off running, following swiftly by Wild, Wolfie and Four.

You try to keep a leisurely pace, knowing you're going to need all the energy you can reserve for when you arrive. You want to run just as much as the others, but you know better.

Time seems to have caught on and gently smacks your shoulder. "You never said how you happened to meet him."

"I didn't?" You smile, playing it coy. "Strange."

"This is it?" Four asks with a skeptical look.

Just beyond the hill is a run down cottage. There's holes in the roof and the fence is broken in many areas. The forest and meadows around it are about to over take the small house and return the woods of its skeleton back to where they came from.

You try to hold back a bitter smile and the way your heart swells at the familiar sight. You pat Four on the shoulder and keep walking towards the cottage. Putting your fingers to your mouth, you let out a shrill whistle and keep walking.

A beat passes, setting the young men behind you on edge before the door of the cottage all but bursts open. You can feel some of the boys reach for their weapons but they hesitate when you start hollering in excitement.

Your calls are answered back by a small body that comes running out of the cottage at full speed. It comes out like a shot and b-lines for you with the intent to tackle. You catch the familiar mop of blond hair and laugh, peppering the small boy with kisses and tickles.

The group behind you is stunned.

"Bubbah! You're home! You're home!" The child cries.

You smile, getting a little teary as you hold the child closer. "I get to stay for a little bit this time before I travel again. I wanted you to meet some friends of mine. They've been very excited to meet you."

The little boy looks over your shoulder and gasp, a bright grin covering his face. "New people! Hello! Welcome to my house!"

You set him down with a proud smile as he runs to the Chain. He stops in front of them, holding his hand out like the polite gentleman he's growing up to be. "My name is Link, what's yours?"

Twilight bites the bullet and kneels to his level, shaking his hand. "Why- My name is Link too! It's great to meet you!"

You sighs and look back to the house. Your grandmother must still be inside. Age has not been kind to her.

The introductions are going on behind as your brother gets more and more amused that they all share the same name. He laughs, bright and joyfully and still the child you've fought so hard to keep. "No wonder you wanted to meet me too!"

"Yeah.... That's why." Legend clenches his jaw in a tight smile. He catches it quickly, the mark of the Triforce of Courage already on his little hand. Legend points to his hand to show that he has the same mark. "You have that too?"

Link, your brother, nods and proudly shows it off. "Bubbah says it's because I'm special. They had to leave home after it showed up though. They saved me from the monsters and told me to take care of grandma."

"Then I'm sure you're doing an incredible job." Time says gently. "That mark is special. I'm sure your grandma is very proud."

Warrior makes it a point to step aside, roughly grabbing your arm as he speaks in a hushed voice. "What is the meaning of this?"

"This is my home." You try to keep the growl out of your voice. "Link is my brother."

"Tell me you're joking."

"I wouldn't be the one traveling with you if I was."

"Bubbah!" Link calls for your attention. "Can they stay for dinner?!"

You slap a grin onto your face and wave back to him. "That was the plan, short stack! You mind going to tell grandma we have company?"

"Oh yeah!" He grins and runs back to the house right as your grandmother has reached the door. She sees you and sighs of relief that you've returned safe and sound.

You wave from where you are and blow her a kiss. You try not to look at the other boys around you.

You can feel them staring holes into you head as it is.

This is going to be a long story.

[soobnny]

ten things hwang hyunjin says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, a twitch of angst

chan | lee know | changbin | HYUNJIN | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

just released a lee know long fic if you guys are interested to read! :)

one. it's been exactly a year since i picked up my paint brush again. god, i still remember when i thought i'd forever let go of art. i've learned to trade my dreams for security anyway, there was no point in indulging in something i had no future in. but then i met you, and i will never forget the moment i realized i was in love with you. that night, i painted until the sun was up. thank you for inspiring me again, my muse.

two. you hold light wherever you go, did you know? that same light you see in others lives inside of you too. i will make sure you know that, even if i have to tell you every day.

three. i think you look prettiest when you laugh and you think no one's looking at you. it always fills me with a warmth i've never known.

four. you make life so achingly beautiful for me.

five. ah, i feel so sentimental tonight. i guess, it's just the thought that years ago, i had my heart broken and i thought it could never get better from there. but you helped me make it whole again. maybe all that heartbreak was always meant to point me to where you are. thank you. thank you. thank you.

six. the loud voices in my head are a little quieter now. i think it's because of you.

seven. remember when chan had convinced us to go hiking with him and his significant other? oh my god, that was a disaster. and i know we said we'd never do it again, but some part of me wants to. maybe it's for the view, or the way you looked when we finally reached the top. you looked so beautiful. i really did feel a great deal of comfort being with you where the whole world didn't know. i didn't even think about the exhausting hike back. just that you were there, the only thing that makes sense to me, beside me. you said you hated it because you paled out, but beautiful things pale out—the sunrise, flowers, you. you’re the most beautiful of them all.

eight. i hope you love me as much as i love you.

nine. you will always have me. please don't ever doubt how i feel for you. i will always choose you, over and over and over again, in every lifetime. without doubt, without hesitation, without second thought. i will always choose you. again and again and again.

ten. i can't believe i've finally found the love i've been yearning for all my life. thank you. i love you. i'm a better person because of you. meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me.

[goldfades]

𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hiii could I request a fic where paige meets your family and she and your toddler nephew end up loving each other and it makes the reader love paige even more 🥺🥺"

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | nothing but absolute fluff, like seriously - sososo cute. parents being super welcoming (r has a sister and brother-in-law, i had to name the characters i hope yall dont mind), lots of banter/teasing, lots of basketball talk, BABY FEVERRRR!!!!!!!!! paige/dad bonding, umm.. nothing else??

─ ev's notes | the chokehold the pic in the middle has on me IS INSANE

"DON'T BE NERVOUS," you smiled reassuringly at your girlfriend, who was currently fixing up her hair in the rearview mirror of her car. "They're gonna love you."

You and Paige had been dating for almost a year now, it'd been pure bliss ─ it was everything you'd hoped for in a relationship and more. You'd never been more fulfilled in your life, and Paige felt the exact same way. As your relationship progressed, you realized that it was the perfect time for her to meet your family.

Paige had become such an integral part of your life, and so was your family ─ meeting them was now a milestone in the relationship, and you were never more excited for someone to meet your family.

As Paige put the finishing touches on her hair, you couldn't help but admire her. She looked beautiful, as always, and you couldn't wait for your family to see just how amazing she was.

Paige sighed nervously as you exchanged glances, yours soft. You reached out, gently touching her hand to reassure her more.

"They're really looking excited to meet you," you said, sincerity evident in your voice. "Trust me, they're going to love you just as much as I do."

Paige flashed a nervous smile, but you could see the hint of excitement behind it. She squeezed your hand gently, drawing comfort from your touch. "I hope so," she replied softly.

With a final check in the mirror, Paige took a deep breath and turned off the ignition. Stepping out of the car, she linked her hand with yours, and together you made your way towards the front door of your family home.

You knocked, and after a few moments, the door swung open to reveal your parents, who greeted you both with warm smiles. "Oh my god, Y/N!" your mother squealed as she pulled you into a hug.

You quickly wrapped your arms around her, engulfing her in a warm hug. Your dad gave you a quick hug before they turned their attention to Paige, a nervous smile on her face as she glanced toward you.

Your mother's eyes lit up as she turned to Paige. "And you must be Paige! It's so lovely to finally meet you," she exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

Paige returned the embrace, her tension visibly easing as she felt your family's warmth. "Here I, uh brought some wine."

Your mother's eyes lit up as she took the wine from Paige's hands, letting out a small laugh. "Thank you so much, Paige! That's very thoughtful of you," your mother said, her smile widening as she inspected the bottle of wine. "You didn't have to bring anything, but we'll definitely enjoy this."

Your dad stepped forward, offering Paige a friendly handshake and a smile. Paige returned the handshake, relief evident in her expression.

"I just wanted to make a good impression," she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

"Well, you've already done that," your dad chimed in, his tone warm. "Anyone who brings wine is definitely welcome in our home."

You and Paige exchanged looks before laughing, your parents joining in after a few seconds.

With that, your family ushered Paige inside, leading her to the cozy living room where the fireplace crackled warmly. The familiar smells of home cooking made Paige relax as she began taking in your home, more specifically ─ the baby photos.

"That's Y/N and her older sister, Marie." Your mother spoke fondly as she saw that Paige was looking. Paige looked back at you with a warm smile.

As your mother pointed to a particularly old photo, Paige's gaze lingered on it, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She turned to you, her eyes reflecting the affection she felt. "You were such a cute kid," she teased gently.

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for Paige as you shared a knowing look. "Well, I had good genes to work with," you replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand affectionately.

"Oh! Speaking of babies. Honey, is Jordan coming tonight?" Your mother chirped toward your father, who was currently looking at the old photo album.

Paige glanced toward you with a confused expression before your mother clarified, a small smile on her face. "Jordan is her older sister's kid, he's adorable."

"You're gonna love him," you whispered toward your girlfriend as her smile got even bigger. If there's one thing everyone knows about Paige, she's the best with kids.

Your father nodded toward your mom, a smile on her face. "Oh yes, he is. He loves basketball, too." His eyes lit up as he glanced toward Paige, a grin on his face.

"Dad," you mumbled, an embarrassed tint on your face as he put his hands up in defense. He definitely did his research on Paige and he was going to make sure he used it. "My dad loves basketball-"

"What? You didn't tell me that!" Paige exclaimed as she glanced toward your father, a grin playing on her lips.

You sighed, sharing a glance toward your very amused mother. "Yeah, cause I knew you two were just gonna talk about basketball for the rest of the night."

Your dad chuckled, shooting you a playful wink before turning his attention back to Paige. "When Y/N told me that she was dating a basketball player, I didn't she meant you."

"I remember me and Daniel, you don't know him yet but you'll definitely meet him ─ were talking about you were the future of the WNBA, and the next day I get a call from Y/N, telling me she was dating you, not even joking. Sweetheart, tell her."

"Yes, it's true. I was there," your mother confirmed with a nod as Paige let out a laugh, glancing toward you.

"I was starstruck, if I'm being honest," your father continued as he grinned at Paige. "I woke up the next day and went to the country club, telling all my pals that my daughter is gonna be the future Mrs. Bueckers."

"Hey, who said I'm taking her last name?" You joked as you sent your father a playful glare.

Your father laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you better start getting used to the idea, sweetheart," he teased, his grin widening.

"We actually already talked about this, she is taking my last name." Paige spoke proudly as your father clapped, causing a small laugh from your mother.

You couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter between your father and Paige. "Looks like you've got it all planned out," you remarked, shooting Paige a fond smile.

Paige grinned, nodding in agreement. "Hey, tradition's tradition,"

Your father clapped his hands together in mock triumph. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride. "Mrs. Bueckers sounds amazing, just so you know. Also, season tickets... you know anything about those?"

Paige sent your father a cocky nod, as he clapped his hands again. You couldn't help but laugh at your father's enthusiasm, shaking your head in amusement. "Dad, slow down," you teased, shooting him a playful glare.

Paige joined in the laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she exchanged a knowing glance with you. "Well, I do like the sound of Mrs. Bueckers,"

Your father grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, his grin widening.

Your mother chuckled, shaking her head affectionately at the scene unfolding before her. "Oh goodness, you two are getting too carried away."

Before anyone else could respond, the front door opened to reveal your older sister and her husband, who was holding a toddler. Your sister's arrival drew everyone's attention, and a chorus of greetings filled the room as she and her husband stepped inside, their toddler squirming in his father's arms.

"Oh finally," you exhaled as Paige laughed. "You came at the perfect time, Dad was pimping me out for season tickets."

Paige burst into laughter at your comment, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she glanced at your father, who was trying to stifle his own laughter. "That's not was happening, like at all."

Your sister raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "That sounds like dad," she teased, shooting a knowing glance at your father as you laughed. She met Paige's gaze with a smile as she outstretched her hand. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Marie, Y/N's older sister."

Paige returned Marie's smile warmly, shaking her hand with genuine pleasure. "It's so nice to meet you, Marie," she said, her tone friendly. "Y/N has told me so much about you."

Marie's smile widened at Paige's words, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh, has she now?" she replied, her tone teasing.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Marie's playful response, shooting Paige an amused glance. "Only good things, I promise," you interjected, earning a laugh from your sister.

Her husband quickly joined the family in the living room, your nephew still holding onto him as he observed the scene in front of him. He gave Paige a quick smile and a nod. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Max,"

Paige returned the smile and nod, her warmth extending to your brother-in-law as well. "It's great to meet you too Max," she replied, her tone friendly.

As your nephew continued to observe the room with wide-eyed curiosity, Paige couldn't help but feel a surge of affection. "Is this Jordan?" she asked, her voice gentle as she directed her attention towards your nephew.

"Yeah, that's him," Max answered, his voice exhausted as you exchanged glances with your sister.

"He gave us a hard time getting here," she laughed as Jordan kept gazing at Paige. Jordan quickly ripped his gaze away, tightening his grip on her father as he looked away. "Aw, he's getting shy. He's probably just as starstruck as Dad,"

Everyone in the room began laughing as Paige shook her head in amusement, feeling a tiny bit cocky knowing that your entire family were practically her biggest fans.

"Dinner's just about to be ready, Marie honey, can you help me set up?" Your mother asked before she quickly shook her head. "Actually, Max, can you help me instead?"

You exchanged a confused look with Marie as she smirked, walking away toward your father as she begun talking with him. Max quickly handed Jordan off to you before he began following your mother toward the kitchen.

Paige's attention was quickly diverted to Jordan, who was slowly turning to look at her once again. Her heart swelled as she looked at the toddler, feeling a rush of affection for the little boy.

"He's so damn cute," she mumbled as she gazed down at him. You looked at your girlfriend, feeling a rush of affection for her as you watched her interact with Jordan.

"You like basketball?" She asks as you rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh. Of course that'd be the first question she asked.

Jordan began nodding slowly, a small smile on his face. "Yes,"

Paige's eyes lit up with excitement at Jordan's response, and she leaned in closer to him, her smile widening. "That's awesome!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You know, your aunt Y/N is actually dating a really, really cool basketball player."

"Oh shut up," you laughed as she kept looking at the boy, his smile turning into a grin.

"Auntie Y/N," he repeated with a grin as Paige nodded, a proud grin on her face.

"Yeah, that's right!" Paige affirmed with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced at you. "Auntie Y/N is dating a basketball player who's not as cool as you, of course,"

Jordan began laughing as he watched Paige, before he began squeezing his fists toward her. Paige chuckled at Jordan's playful gesture, delighted by his infectious laughter.

"He wants you to hold him, baby. Here, my arm's getting tired." You spoke softly as Paige's smile widened, quickly taking the toddler from your arms.

You watched as Paige continued to engage with Jordan, her warmth and kindness evident in every interaction. With gentle hands, she lifted him up, settling him comfortably in her arms as he giggled.

"There we go," Paige cooed softly, her voice filled with tenderness as she adjusted Jordan's position. "You're such a little sweetheart, aren't you?"

Jordan nodded enthusiastically, his laughter filling the room as he nestled into Paige's embrace. With a contented sigh, he rested his head against her shoulder, his small arms wrapping around her neck in a tight hug.

"Oh my gosh, he loves you so much already." Marie remarked softly as she watched, her expression slightly shocked as you smiled loving toward your girlfriend.

"She just has that effect on people," you said with a warm smile, your gaze filled with pride and affection as you watched Paige and Jordan. "He barely likes me, it's insane how he already loves you."

Marie nodded as she laughed. "Yeah, she's not exaggerating."

"Are we sure we're talking about the same kid?" Paige mumbled as Jordan kept gazing at her, tightening his grip on her with a contented sigh. Paige's heart swelled with affection at Jordan's gesture, and she returned his hug with gentle warmth.

Paige chuckled softly, her heart warmed by Jordan's affectionate embrace. "Looks like I've got a new best friend," she said with a smile, her voice filled with tenderness as she gently stroked Jordan's back.

Jordan nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with joy as he snuggled closer to Paige. "Best friend!" he exclaimed happily, his voice filled with excitement.

Paige laughed as she glanced at you, her gaze adoring as she pulled the toddler closer. Your heart swelled at the sight, feeling your love for Paige somehow triple at the mere sight of her with Jordan.

Paige's ability to connect with others, especially with children, never ceased to amaze you. It was one of the many things you admired about her ─ her kindness, her warmth, and her genuine love for people.

With a fond smile, you reached out to gently tousle Jordan's hair, earning a giggle from the delighted toddler. "Looks like you've got yourself a new best friend," you remarked, your voice filled with affection as you looked at Paige.

Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she nodded in agreement. "Yep, and I couldn't be happier about it," she replied, her voice soft and tender.

As the night came to a close, you and Paige had to say goodbye to your family and head home. Jordan, thankfully, was asleep by the time you'd left because if he wasn't, you're sure he would've rioted. With hugs and promises to see each other soon, you and Paige made your way back to her car, hand in hand.

She pulled you closer into her chest as she grinned, gazing down at you. "I don't think I've ever wanted a baby more, baby."

You glanced up at her with a small smile, feeling your cheeks flare up. "Me neither, I want a baby. Like, right now."

"I know," Paige mumbled as she unlocked the car. You leaned against the car as you pulled her closer, engulfing her lips in a sweet kiss. "I didn't think I'd be leaving your house with a baby fever, but here we are."

You laughed against her lips, the warmth of her laughter mingling with yours as you pulled back slightly, your foreheads touching. "Yeah, well, Jordan does have that effect on people," you joked, your heart filled with love for both Paige and the little boy who had captured her heart.

Paige chuckled softly, her arms wrapping around you as she leaned in to rest her forehead against yours. "I can't wait for the day when we have our own," she murmured, her voice filled with tenderness.

But before you could respond, you suddenly heard a loud toddler scream from inside your home. You and Paige exchanged glances before bursting out in laughter, knowing that Jordan's riot was indeed imminent.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to wait a bit longer for our own toddler," you joked with a chuckle, your heart filled with amusement. She nodded as she laughed, shaking her head as she reluctantly let go of your hand and got into the driver's seat.

With a shared laugh, you both made your way back to the car, the sound of Jordan's screams echoing in the background. As Paige settled into the driver's seat, you joined her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"You wanna go comfort your new best friend, baby?"

Paige sent you a playful glare as she turned on the car, shaking her head. "I'm good, maybe later."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[noira-l]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: You are falling into darkness and meaninglessness. Satoru refuses to let you do that.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of comfort, after 'premature death', after suguru deflection, describtion od depression, apathy, lost meaning in life, slight eating disorder, sleeplesness.

author's note: We finally get to see his softer side, though as is his fashion, he does it in his own way.

4 months after Suguru defected

"I know that the situation that happened has left its mark on you, however, you must not give up like this."

Yaga had been trying to reach you in his office for several minutes. To no avail. Your gaze was still blank, staring at a single point on his desk since you sat down, it didn't seem like you were present in any way.

Silence. You didn't answer anything. Just as you always do.

This is not your first meeting with your Sensei. Yaga has been trying to make his way to you for about a month.

A void in your head, so great and black that it swallowed you whole. Your body indifferent to every sense that reached you, you did not analyse it at all. If Satoru hadn't dragged you here, literally holding your hand and leading you, you wouldn't have come here at all. You didn't have the will or the strength for it.

Everything stopped at that moment. It ended. There was nothing left. Anything important and beautiful in your life was taken away from you by the terrible malice of fate. Your house burnt down. Your beloved had descended into madness. You no longer had anything to care about. Your entire past no longer mattered. Everyone is literally dead.

Even you died that day.

You wondered what was still alive.

Or at least that's how you explained it to yourself, unable to accept that the same person who promised you the world had just taken it away from you.

You were lifeless. It didn't take much to conclude that.

All that remained was a fragile, frail and empty shell of a person once filled with love, dreams and passion.

You no longer had the strength to cry, or to utter any words. If it wasn't for Shoko, you wouldn't even eat, and if it wasn't for Gojo, you probably wouldn't sleep.

You could smile altogether now. The world of jujutsu never broke you, the person you loved did. But you didn't, even though it crossed your mind.

What an honour to be the exception to the rule.

Yaga sighed leaning against his expensive chair.

"(Y/N)." he called out, though you didn't even flinch "I don't want you to end up like this. As your teacher, I recognises your self-doubt as his personal failure. The situation that has befallen you is a very difficult one and I understand that you would need time to get things back to normal."

He leaned towards you "However, in this world we live in, we cannot afford such a luxury." you knew his eyes were drilling into you.

"It has been more than four months. Your condition is not improving, only getting worse. At your request, I have specifically let you skip part of your training." you heard him grinding his teeth, but not out of anger, but out of helplessness "I'm doing my best not to send you on missions in this condition, because I know that even if something attacks you-" he paused.

-you won't even try to defend yourself.’ you finished for him in your head.

He was right, you knew it, and so did anyone who would just look at you. You lost a lot of weight, your skin turned pale got a shade of gray, and your eyes lacked their former spark.

You could see that Yaga, in that silence, couldn't find the right words. When he opened his mouth to say something, you finally muttered, pausing his speetch.

"But Sensei, you should…" you raised your gaze from the one point where it was cumulative to look the man deep in the eyes

"..let something finish me off. It's all meaningless anyway."

★ --

Yaga sat in his office, surrounded by a silence that seemed to deepen his worries. Outside the window, the rain drummed against the glass as if to wash the weight of anxiety from his soul, but it only deepened his sense of helplessness.

Your words, haunted him.

‘Let something finish me off. It's all meaningless anyway' constantly echoed in his mind, like a silent cry of despair that gave him no peace.

Never before had he seen such emptiness in someone's eyes - an emptiness that testified that all hope, all will to fight, had been sucked out of you.

He was incapable of seeing Geto Suguru roll into a similar spiral.

It was a failure that has pursued Yaga, reminding him of the fragility of the human mind.

You are reminder of that too.

Now he saw the same symptoms in your - empty eyes, unresponsive to sensory input, avoiding contact with others.

Every day when you came to training was like seeing a ghost moving among the living, unable to fully return to life. You was physically there, but you soul seemed to be elsewhere, trapped in a place you couldn't get out of.

In this state, Yaga knew he had to seek advice from others.

He must act. He will not make this mistake again.

You will not be a case to regret.

And he had a lot of them.

He was the first to go to Shoko. He met her in the corridor, as busy as ever with her work, locked in a world where medicine was everything.

"Shoko, have you tried to talk to her? Something about her condition?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. Shoko sighed, not stopping for a moment.

"I'm not good at such conversations." she replied briefly, looking at him fleetingly, as if those words would explain everything. Yaga knew that Shoko was doing as well as she could, but he also knew, that she was avoiding emotion like a fire. She couldn't help you in this battle that was going on inside. She was only capable of healing you on the outside.

The next stop was Nanami. Always serious, always composed, Nanami was someone who could be counted on in the most difficult of times. However, when Yaga asked him the same question, the answer was equally overwhelming.

"I understand what she is going through. I've tried to reach out to her, but… she's silent. I don't know how I can help her when she won't talk.’" there was a note of helplessness in Nanami's voice that had never been there before. Yaga knew that he sympathised with you, that he had tried, but that he himself could not break through this invisible barrier you had built around yourself.

Last was Satoru, always the enigmatic one, always full of contrasts. Yaga found him in one of the training rooms as he watched the younger students' classes.

"Satoru, did you talk to her?" he asked, knowing that Gojo was someone who could see more than others.

"I don't talk. I just sit by her when she's awake. That's all I can do." replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Yaga felt a mixture of relief and sadness upon hearing these words. Satoru, in his typical style, had found a way to be beside you, but even he, with all his unlimited potential, could not pull you out of your state.

★ --

3 weeks after Suguru defected

Gojo was initially not supposed to get so involved.

He kept repeating to himself that he wasn't good at such things, that he didn't know how to talk about such topics, couldn't find a solution for you or show you something he should.

Your storm you showed him that day left a mark in him. It awakened something in him. He couldn't deny it. He just kept living in the belief, that he wasn't capable of doing anything about it. He didn't feel that there was anything in him that he could offer to help you. He never knew what to say, he never knew what to do. He felt hopeless about it. Satoru was not the kind of person who makes the same mistakes twice or never learns from them.

He blamed himself for Suguru's departure. He felt that his corruption was his fault. His lack of attention, his lack of interest, his powerlessness - his failure to adapt to such situations.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, that was the reason he was born. It was what he was made for.

He was not made to come into contact with the problems of humanity, he was always above others, he never touched such topics. And now here you are. In front of him. You are showing him this.

You bring him closer to this subject, you prove to him that he, despite his title, is still human.

He feels exactly what you feel.

You are proof that the feelings he has inside him - make him human.

What ultimately made him abandon the idea of leaving the subject to himself was the sight of you. Soaking wet for long moments on the training field.

He saw you from a distance, as he walked with Shoko to class. He separated from her to letting her go ahead, saying he would catch up with her. The rain was dark and heavy. he didn't need an umbrella, so he walked throught it like was nothing. A white beam of light, walking throught the dark.

The sight of you, sitting on the training field with a bamboo sword, completely soaked - stuck in his mind. It was an image that spoke more than a thousand words. You were physically there, but spiritually you seemed to be far away, in a place where no words could reach you. Satoru, though usually full of energy and humour, this time simply walked up to you and without a word took your hand, pulling you out of the rain. You didn't even defy him as the force lifted your body and made you float slightly above the ground.

He sat you down in his room, giving you a towel to dry you off. Gojo left for a while, leaving you covered in towels and a warm blanket.

He quickly teleported to the kitchen, to brew a mug of warm tea for you. He waited patiently for the kettle to boil the water, tapping his fingers against the kitchen counter in thoughtfulness. He thought about bringing Shoko to you, as you might have caught a cold. Suguru had mentioned that you catch such colds quite easily.

As he moved back, he set his mug down on his notebook-cluttered desk and looked at you. You stood at the window, watching the rain that had kept the world quiet all day today.

"Why the rain?" he asked, trying to strike up a conversation. You did not answer immediately, still staring at the raindrops reflecting on the window.

After a moment, you raised your gaze, looking at him with a blank stare. "Because the rain is clean. It washes everything away. Maybe if I stood there long enough, it would wash me away too." Satoru felt his heart squeeze with pain at those words, but he didn't allow himself to have any emotional outbursts.

You sat like this for a long time, he beside you, looking out at the rain. In the silence that surrounded, he could feel how devastated you were, how much you had lost the will to live. He knew that these feelings would not disappear overnight. He was aware of that.

So from that moment on, Satoru implemented a plan that seemed strange and effective, exactly his style.

★ --

1 month after Suguru defected

The first month was a time of anticipation and patience for Satoru.

When he first entered your room, he felt the dense atmosphere almost overwhelm him. The quiet, enclosed room seemed as if trapped in time. You were sitting on the bed, your back turned to the door, shoulders tense. It was clear that your thoughts were far away.

Satoru closed the door behind him, then took a seat against the wall, far away from you, right next to the door. He sat down on the floor, pulled his gameboy out of his pocket and began to play, pretending it was a normal everyday situation.

At first you did not even look at him. Your gaze remained fixed on one point, as if you were trying to find a meaning in it that you could not find anywhere else. Satoru, however, was not bothered by this silence. He concentrated on the game, allowing you to get used to his presence while giving you space. Managing the space was his special skill.

Every day he would spend a few dozen minutes in your room, sometimes playing, sometimes bringing something to eat with him. Often he would sit there with a meal in his hand, eating slowly, and the sounds of munching were the only sounds in the room. He never tried to get you to talk, knowing that your personal space was crucial at that moment.

★ --

2 months after Suguru defected

The second month brought slight changes. Satoru, feeling that your reactions to his presence had become more bearable, decided to get closer.

Instead of sitting on the floor by the door, he took a seat in the chair by your desk, which stood slightly closer to the bed. When he entered the room, you looked at him - that was a success! Noticing change in his behaviour, but you took a quick glance at him, so he couldn't be happier. He passed you a small smile, that was a welcoming greeting.

Satoru stretched out comfortably in a chair, pulled out a book and began to read. Occasionally he would reach for his headphones to turn on some music for himself, shutting himself off from the world but still being there, at arm's length, if you need him.

There were days when he couldn't concentrate on reading, so he would just sit, watching you out of the corner of his eye. As time went on, he began to notice that you would sometimes glance at him, as if trying to understand why he came here almost everyday that was free for him, even though you didn't exchange a word with each other. Even when he was busy, your room was the first stop when he came back from any mission.

★ --

3 months after Suguru defected

In the third month, Satoru felt he could risk the next step.

When he walked into your room one day, instead of sitting in a chair, he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He felt your body tighten as soon as he sat down, but you didn't move away or ask him to leave. This was the sign he had been waiting for.

He pulled out his gameboy, fired up the game and started playing, sitting next to you. For a while, the silence was almost overwhelming, but as time passed, the atmosphere began to relax. Satoru noticed that although you still didn't speak, your presence had become somewhat more conscious.

He started bringing you food when Shoko couldn't. He felt that when he brought you something, you were more eager to glance at it. And you even took a bite of the sweet roll he left with you one day.

There were also moments when you started to move, as if you wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat. Satoru did not push. He felt that these small gestures were a sign of progress.

★ --

4 months after Suguru defected

In the last month of this silent coexistence, Satoru decided to go all in.

When he entered your room, he didn't stop at the door or the chair. He immediately headed for the bed and lay down beside you without a word. He felt you body stiffen at first, but after a while you relaxed, accepting his presence. This was so strange, but so.. welcoming.

Both of you lay side by side, arms barely touching, but it was enough.

Satoru pulled out his mp3 player, turned on quiet music and placed it between you two, letting the soft sounds fill the silence. He watched the ceiling, occasionally glancing up to look at your face. The sight of it, now devoid of such deep pain as it had been in the beginning, made him relieved. He knew that your emotional state was still fragile, but he was sure that his presence was helping you in some way. You were helping him too, he just couldn't say that to you.

His presence in your room become such a small tradition, which he often looked forward to. Besides your dorm was a good escape for him, when he was looking for, there was never any thought that he could be at your place.

One day, as both you lay like this, you gently turned towards him and looked at him with a slightly softer expression on your tired face. You didn't need to say anything - your gaze said more than words.

Satoru smiled slightly at you, then closed his eyes, feeling that you had reached a state of understanding that was only possible through months of patience and perseverance.

He was content, that he could see your eyes weren't so empty or full of tears. That was a breakthrought, that he was so eager to welcome.

★ --

4 and a half months after Suguru defected

Satoru has not visited you for a week.

You knew he was back from a mission, because Shoko bringing you food mentioned it. She also said that it had been a long and exhausting one, on which they had sent him alone, with no support from even specialists.

It was already very late in the night, you had been waiting for him for a long time, and yet he had not come.

For the first time since moths, you got out of bed by yourself.

You poked your head out, to see if the light in his room was on, it still was. You were overwhelmed by a strange feeling, that you could not quite describe. You wondered what the reason was for breaking this little tradition you shared between the two of you.

You came to the conclusion, that he probably needed the space himself and was just using it. Although this seemed to you to be completely unsuitable for a person you came to know. Should you do something about this fact? You nervously bit your nail.

What if he now needs the same treatment that he used to give you? What if he just needs to be alone?

A conflict arose in your mind. You didn't know what to do, how to behave. You felt a little stressed as you slowly sat back down on the bed.

What should you do?

Your decision was made, when your foot visited the kitchens for the first time in months to brew a tea for him.

All you could hear in the quiet corridor was the soft creaking of the floor, as you approached the door of his room. The wooden gates were slightly open, as if Gojo didn't have the strength to close them fully. You carefully pushed it open with your hand, peering inside.

Satoru was lying on the bed, with his arms spread, as if the weight of the world was crushing him to the mattress. His white hair, always so perfectly styled, were a mess. Fortunately, he had managed to change into his pyjamas. There was an expression of extreme fatigue on his face, but when he heard quiet footsteps, he lifted his eyelids.

Your gazes met. You gently closed the door behind you, then stepped deeper into the room, setting your mug of warm drink down on the desk. Just as he had done this to you one time. Your limbs tremble slightly from the cold. Going to the kitchen in just your pyjamas and flip-flops at this time of year was a stupid idea.

You didn't exchange a word with each other. You blandly started playing with the sleeve of your nightshirt. You didn't need words to understand how tired he was, the slight bags under his eyes and messy look told you all you needed to know.

He changed positions on the bed, moving more towards the wall, grabbed a corner of the duvet and lifted it up. He made an inviting gesture with his head and his slightly glowing eyes went out.

You sat on the edge of the bed first. Feeling a little on unfamiliar ground. You had only been in his room a couple of times. The main place for you to hang out as a group was Suguru's room. Immediately you felt the warmth emanating from the sheets.

With a slow movement you lay down next to him, letting the warmth of the duvet and his scent greet you. The mattress bent slightly under you weight, as you turned to face him. You could feel how soft and molded his mattress was, how his pillow was pleasantly arranged. Your body slowly began to warm, heat waves spreading through your body, soothing your mind and dulling your senses. The air around you was warm, enveloping, and his presence added a strange sense of security that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You could feel your body relaxing more and more with each breath. You could hear the calm rhythm of his breathing, which worked on like a lullaby. You were so warm, not only physically, but also internally, as if this place, this moment, was exactly where you were supposed to be.

You slowly closed your eyes, feeling sleep begin to embrace you with it's softness. The thoughts that had been swirling around in your head just moments before, began to quiet down, giving a way to a blissful emptiness. The warmth of his body and regular breathing were like an focus points that, allowed you to pull your head away from your worries and sink into a peaceful sleep.

Finally, you allowed yourself to fully surrender to the moment. You fell asleep, with his hand still gently resting on your waist, in a place that seemed the safest in the world.

★ --

Satoru slowly opened his eyes, feeling the soft rays of the sun on his face. For a while he lay still, savoring the quiet of the morning and the warmth that beat from the body, cuddled into his. You were sleeping peacefully, your breathing was steady and deep, and face expressed the kind of calm he hadn't seen in you in a long time. He smiled slightly, pleased that you could finally truly rest.

He didn't want to wake you, but he knew the day was calling him. He shifted cautiously, reaching for the phone that lay on the bedside table. For a moment, he pondered how to play it, but quickly decided that the only person he could ask to do it - was Shoko.

you: "Take care of everything today? Thanks. >ᴗ<"

7:43 am

Sent a message, not waiting for a respond, he put the phone aside, before turning back to you.

He glanced at your face once more. You looked so peaceful, as if for a moment you had forgotten everything that had overwhelmed you for months.

Gojo gently ran his fingers through your hair, trying not to wake you up. He smiled, seeing how you moved slightly in his arms, as if you instinctively knew he was there.

He was so proud of himself, the sight of your sincere rest soothed his heart somehow. Thanks to him, you were finally able to rest. He felt satisfaction and contentment at the thought. He finally didn't feel so helpless and powerless. He felt that he had just done something, that at least one person, by some screwed up luck, had managed to be saved by him.

With a slight sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into sleep again. He knew that he didn't have to rush anywhere, that this was a day they could spend relaxing, even if he had responsibilities and pressures on him, at this point he totally didn't give a damn. He fell asleep quickly, holding you close to him, enjoying the moment of comfort you brought to him as well.

You two slept all day, cuddled up to each other in warm cozy embrace.

With the peace and quiet you finally rested, as you both deserved.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl (open): @kalopsia-flaneur

[venus-haze]

Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you. 

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.” 

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

[leclucklerc]

Something Immortal CL16 - 02. Bad Idea

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wayne!reader

Summary: Y/n Wayne knows that this is a bad idea. But well, going against the law is something that runs in the Wayne Family.

Word Count: 4.4K

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“Is B really going to buy an F1 team?”

Y/n looked up from the plate of dessert in front of her towards where Jason was sitting. The both of them are in the VIP lounge of the Monaco GP, waiting for the race to start before being ushered towards the Ferrari garage.

“What makes you say that?”

Jason gave her a pointed look. “I’m not dumb,” he said. “I can see a business talk even if it’s miles away.” At this, he pointed towards the paddock that could be seen from the windows in front of them.

They could see a glimpse of Bruce, laughing and talking with people with different team kits. Y/n recognized most of them as the team principals or even the management team from different F1 teams.

“Y/n, seriously, I don’t have time to become a driver,” said Jason. “And I’ll probably suck at it, most of these guys had been racing since they were in diapers.”

“Still,” defended the woman, fully aware that Jason’s argument was fairly logical. “You don’t have to be a driver, but I think being around Formula One, something that you’re passionate about, can help you, Jason.”

He doesn’t have to be a driver if he doesn’t want to. Hell, truthfully, if Jason really puts his foot down and strictly declares that no, buying a whole Formula One team is not going to help him, then y/n and Bruce will stop. The both of them will leave this silly idea behind and never look back once more.

But she had seen him. How his eyes followed every garage that they passed in rapid attention. How he attentively listened to what John had said about Ferrari’s Formula One team, how he had watched the free practice and qualifying alone the days before.

It’s been a while. Maybe the last time she saw him being this passionate about something was before his death. To see Jason looking forward to something, to see his brother actually enjoy doing something outside of his crime-fighting activities.

“I-“

“Jay,” she said again, reaching out to hold the older man’s hand. “I- I know we’re not the best family. B is not the best father and the rest of us have not been the best siblings but still I-“ she stopped at that, eyes searching for Jason’s own. 

Years of guilt appeared inside of her. Years of missing memories between the two of them. Years full of regret and anger that had soured their relationship beyond words. 

Y/n, only wants what is best for her brother. “I still want you to be happy,” she said, blue eyes with a hint of green meeting hers. “I want to see you laughing again, be integrated into society, and live your dream-!”

Jason looks lost and y/n is really glad that this section of the VIP lounge was reserved for them.

Because the man in front of her looks so fucking vulnerable. 

She still remembers that time when Jason just returned to Gotham. All Lazarus green eyes and rage oozing out of his form. How he had practically attacked Tim, taunting the rest of them, and begged their father to choose him over that clown.

Y/n also remembers the emptiness that appeared in his eyes when they informed him that the Joker was dead.

It was one of the most terrifying moments of her life. Because Jason had it made his mission to kill that clown. To avenge the fallen Robin that had remained unavenged. To finally end the reign of terror that the prince of clowns had put upon Gotham City.

To know that he’s dead?

Well.

There are just so so many things left unsaid between the two of them. Too much pain and history that had happened between the two of them. To see, Jason who had always raged and raged looking this lost is-

“I’ve been wondering-“ said Jason, leaning forward. “Ever since that clown died, I’ve been wondering what the fuck I should do with my life-“

It’s a familiar conversation. Something that Jason had told her months ago under the darkness of the night. When there are only the two of them on top of his safehouse rooftop, sharing a stick of cigarettes to fight off the cold.

Y/n leaned forward, touching their shoulder together. It’s something that they often did before Ethiopia all those years ago. When Jason was nothing but a short and skinny kid that’s not too far off y/n own size. 

It’s been years since Ethiopia and a lot of things have changed.

“Have you decided, Jay?” she asked, eyes closing and head leaning towards his shoulder. “Whatever you want, you know that we will support you.”

Jason was silent for a bit.

The female too, sat there in silence, giving the older male a chance to think it through.

“I still want to be Red Hood,” he whispered, far too low for anyone to hear except y/n. “I still want to make Crime Alley a better place for people to live in.”

Y/n has to fight off a smile at that. Such a typical answer for a bat. Such a typical answer for the son of Bruce Wayne.

“Yeah?” she said. 

Jason hummed. “But I also want to live my life.”

A smile appeared on y/n face. She can feel the excited thrumming of her heart as she continues to listen.

“Oh?” she asked. “And that is?”

“Going to university, getting an English degree,” at this, he stopped. “And living the dream F1 fan life ‘cause my family owned a fucking team here.”

Y/n laughed at that; happiness clear on her face.

Bruce got the honor to wave the checkered flag that marks the end of the Monaco GP.

Her dad looks pleased, but she also knows that inside of that large smile and laugh, her dad simply doesn’t care. This business trip to Monaco had been a risky move after all, if it’s not for Jason’s happiness, y/n doesn’t think her dad would even consider going on this business trip.

In the end, when her dad was handed the checkered flag, the man put the flag into Jason’s hand.

“Do you want to do it, Jay?”

Jason blinked. “Huh?”

“Waving the flag,” answered her dad, letting out a smile. “Instead of me, my son can do it, right?” asked Bruce, turning his head towards where the president of FIA and the chairman of Ferrari stood.

“Of course, of course!” Said Ben, the president of FIA. “It would be an honor for us!”

“But they literally asked for you” answered Jason.

Her dad merely laughed at that. “They said you can do it, son.”

Jason may look like as if he wants to protest, but y/n knows that the man is far too excited at the prospect of waving the checkered flag at the Monaco GP. He may grumble and curse her dad a few times, but he really can’t hide the happiness that’s shining through his eyes at the mere thought of it.

The older man too, seemed to notice his son’s excitement as he let out an indulgent smile as he watched her brother being escorted to his position.

“Jason looks happy,” she said. “It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

“I know,” murmured her dad. There was silence between the two of them before her dad leaned forward towards her a bit. “I saw you earlier.”

Y/n raised her eyebrow. “What?”

“I saw you flirting with one of the drivers,” replied her dad. “The Ferrari one.”

Ah, she thought. He was referring to Charles. “It was an act, Dad,” she simply said. “You know, like your Brucie Wayne persona? I just think that it will do us some good if we’re on a friendly term with the paddock.”

Her dad stared at her. “There are better ways to do that, like chatting with the FIA president, for instance,” replied the man as he turned his gaze toward where Ben and John were talking with Jason near the track. “I don’t think flirting with a driver will really help our cause.”

Y/n shrugged, “He’s cute, what can I say?”

“Y/n.”

“What?” she hissed out. “I have to watch you flirt with Selina the entirety of my life, let me flirt with cute boys for a change!”

“You know it’s different,” pointed out her dad, leaning closer towards her. “Don’t associate with anyone outside of the masked community.”

The woman rolled her eyes at that.

She knows that the older man has a point. She knows that he’s doing this in order to protect all of them. Not only his hidden identity, but the rest of the family and possibly the rest of the Justice League. Bruce has always put a tight leash on all of his children regarding the interaction and the social circle that they all kept. Most of the time, the man didn’t have to worry considering most of his children worked inside the masked community, resulting in most of their friends being another superhero.

But y/n?

Despite her close association and frequent presence in their nightly activity, she sometimes thinks that her dad forgets that she’s not a vigilante or a hero. Yes, she knows all of their secret identity, yes, she often assisted her brothers on their not-so-legal work.

Outside of all of that, y/n is a civilian. She’s just a normal doctor who’s not saving the world during her past time. She’s a normal woman that’s working in a perfectly legal job.

Friends are hard to come by when you’re the daughter of the richest man in the world. Friends are harder to come by when you’re the daughter of the richest man in the world who is also hiding the fact that he’s the dark knight himself.

“I know,” she hissed out. “It’s a persona dad, I doubt we’ll talk again.”

Her dad gave her a look as if he didn’t believe in that.

And well.

Um.

Charles won the Monaco GP. The first Monegasque driver to do so in the last 93 years. Jason had failed to hide his excitement as he waved the checkered flag.

Her family was there, right in front of the podium as they watched the Ferrari drivers and the McLaren driver celebrating the win that they acquired. Y/n was standing there, smiling politely as she watched the champagne shower that was happening in front of them.

It was also then, that their eyes met.

She was not sure if Charles was looking at her or at someone near her, but the man’s already wide smile had gotten wider as he locked his eyes with her. And it was also then, that Charles sent her a wink.

Huh.

Okay.

Oookay.

I’ll meet you later, he seems to mouth off, a bit quickly, before he continues the champagne shower with the rest of the drivers.

So much for not talking with him anymore.

“Hi, stranger.”

Y/n can’t help the quirk of her mouth at that greeting.

The woman turned her gaze towards the source of the voice, eyes immediately falling towards where Charles Leclerc stood next to her. There’s a smile on his lips, hair tousled and green eyes twinkling.

“Hello,” she greeted back, raising her glass of champagne. “Drink?”

Charles chuckled. “I had enough champagne for the day,” replied the male as he took a seat next to her.

She can’t help but laugh at that. “I mean, you won today,” answered the female, putting down the glass of champagne on top of the table in front of them. “How does it feel to be a Monaco GP race winner? And did you actually drink the champagne that’s being sprayed earlier?” Being sprayed with a bottle of champagne sure is an experience, it seems. 

“Amazing,” he breathed out, inching closer to her. “I guess a change of mindset is the only thing needed to break the curse.”

“I told you,” said the female, amusement dripping on her tone. “Guess I did become a really lucky girl today.”

“I hope so,” answered Charles. “I did remember your words throughout the race.”

“Oh? You did?” teased y/n. “Seeing Charles Leclerc win the Monaco GP live and being constantly on his mind? What a lucky girl I am.”

Charles let out a laugh at that.

The dinner party around them is buzzing with blaring music and drunken chatter. The event itself was hosted by WE and the FIA. A collaboration work between the two entity that marks the beginning of WE’s involvement in the motorsport industry. It was the reason why her dad – a reclusive who hardly leaves Gotham if he can help it – needed to do a business trip in Monaco.

And of course, for the simple reason of buying Jason an F1 team. 

Not that y/n is complaining. She had wanted to visit Monaco forever and this was the perfect opportunity to do it. Watching a Formula 1 race live is a bonus that she will never miss out on.

The dinner party that they hosted was the formal event that they made for the winners of the race. Though, it seems most of the drivers are in attendance. No doubt advised by each of their respective team to gain the elusive Wayne sponsorship.

She knows that the news of Bruce Wayne wanting to buy an F1 team or become a major sponsor had already made its rounds. Even the bigger teams who don’t really need more money came in order to make some kind of connection with Wayne Enterprise.

Truthfully, this dinner party made her nervous a bit. After all, it’s not like she attended a party outside of Gotham.

But still, Charles’s sudden presence helped ease up her nervousness for a bit.

“Where’s your brother?” asked Charles, eyes flickering around the room.

“Ah, Jason is not feeling well,” replied the female. “He decided to stay in our hotel.” Which is a blatant lie. Y/n knows that Jason brought his Red Hood gear all the way here. He’s probably prowling the streets of Monaco, searching for that gang boss who made him join this business trip to Monaco initially.

Charles hummed at that, taking a seat next to her.

“I heard you helped orchestrate this whole dinner party,” started the man.

Y/n laughed at that. “Orchestrating is a big word, considering me and my family just throw some money at the event organizer.”

“Still, I really like the red accents, it was as if you already know that Ferrari is going to win today’s race,” said the male as he gestured towards the red flower as well as the red napkins on top of the tables.

The woman grinned cheekily at that. “Who said I don’t? Maybe I have the power to see the future?”

Charles raised his eyebrows at that, amusement clear in his eyes. “Oh?” he prompted out, leaning forward. “Can you see my future then?”

Y/n hummed, mouth closing in a wide smile as she too, leaned forward. Both of their face are really close to each other. “Hm…” she let out. “I think… You’re going to be really drunk tonight.”

He laughed at that, eyes crinkling. “It’s given,” he said, grinning.

“Really?” she said, sounding amused. “Do you want me to see further into your future?”

“You can?” asked Charles, with a tilt of his head, mouth still grinning. “What a fearsome power that you have.”

The female giggled. “I think I can see…” she whispered. “A future world champion here.”

Now, Charles is full-blown laughing, the glass of champagne that he had been holding now forgotten as he lets the amusement to envelop his very being. 

“Seriously,” he said the first part in French before he switched back to English, “You really know how to appease someone.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah,” said Charles. “You better be careful, or I’ll think that you’ve been flirting with me.”

It’s a bold thing to say, especially to Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

She knows that she’s one of the most desirable women in the marriage market, considering her looks and her family. Many people had attempted to flirt with her, to trap her with their honeyed words and kind gestures. 

But still, it’s been a while since there’s someone this bold.

“Well, I’ve been flirting with you,” replied y/n instead. “It would be embarrassing if you thought otherwise.”

Yeah, the moment she uttered those words, she knew that this was a bad choice to make.

Because at that moment, she could see the sparkle of interest in Charles’s eyes. The light that suddenly shone behind those green orbs as the man leaned forward toward her. Y/n could faintly smell the cologne that he wore, a masculine one that reminded her of her dad for a bit.

“Oh?” he said, mouth quirking up and eyes crinkling. “I’ve been flirting with you too, if you haven’t noticed.”

Okay, this isn't good. She needs to stop this before they go further and ignite her dad’s anger. 

“I see,” answered y/n with a smile. “Anyway Mr. Future World Champion, I think your team principal is looking for you-“

It was the perfect excuse because she really did have seen Fred wandering around the room in search of his driver. However, whatever she was going to say stopped immediately when a hand reached out to grab her wrist. She immediately looked down, staring at Charles’ palm.

“Hey,” said the male, grinning. “Wanna go somewhere fun?”

She should say no.

Y/n can already imagine her father’s disappointed sigh and the loud protest from her brothers. She can already see her doing the walk of shame tomorrow, with Jason silently judging her. It would be stupid of her to say yes because there are just so many consequences waiting for her if she took up that offer.

There’s literally no reason for her to say yes to someone that she barely knows.

But well-

Charles looked at her with those bright green eyes of his, the corner crinkling up from how wide his smile was. There’s something about his expression – so transparent, so genuine, something that she rarely saw in Gotham – that tickled her heart at the right place.

Maybe it’s the dimpled smile, maybe she was simply swept up by the moment.

But the next thing that she knew was-

“Yes,” she answered.

The smile that Charles let out can ignite the room.

The music is loud. Louder than what she used to.

There’s a huge misconception of her back in Gotham. Due to her father’s public persona, as well as her brother’s less-than-idle nature, the media had portrayed her as a party girl once upon a time.

But really, this is the first time for her to be in a club.

Clubs are not that common to start with in Gotham. Due to the high crime rate, and the many many dangers, clubs scarcely exist in the city. Galas though? Galas happens almost every week. Due to that, y/n only ever attended galas and galas.

So this, this is a new experience for her.

She could see the throngs of people around her, dancing and laughing, fully immersed in the music around them. There’s something about the air that just made everyone highly excited as if there’s no tomorrow.

It didn’t take long for her to be swept up by the atmosphere too.

 “So, how are you enjoying the night?” Yelled Charles as the two of them laughed and danced in the middle of the dance club. Y/n was glad that she had opted for a short dress because really, the ball gowns that she used to wear for galas will be sticking out like a sore thumb in this kind of scene.

 “It’s been fantastic!” answered the woman, amidst the loud music. Her mouth is a bit aching from how wide she’s been grinning but that really can’t dampen her mood. “It’s not my usual scene, but I guess a change of environment is not that bad.”

“Oh? Gotham doesn’t have a lot of parties?” laughed Charles, hand finding themselves around her wrist.

She stepped closer, face almost touching. “Mostly galas, or gatherings,” said y/n, letting out a shrug, before a grin overtook her face once again. “It’s not exactly safe to throw a wild party like this in a city like Gotham after all.” 

Something flickered in Charles’ eyes as he let out a hum.

“So,” started the woman, wanting to change the subject of the conversation. She leaned forward, cocking her head for a bit. “Is Monaco nightlife had always been this lively?”

“It is when it’s my party,” said the man, as they stepped out of the dance floor towards the bar.

Ordering for the both of them, Charles sidled close to her.

“You’re really trying to get drunk tonight?” teased the woman.

“Not too much,” replied the man. “I wanna remember you.”

She hummed. “Well, what’s stopping you?” she asked. “Don’t you think we should make more memories then?”

Charles turned to her, and the grip that he had around her waist tightened.

“Oh?” he said, voice lower. “Are you sure?”

The grin that she lets out must’ve been enough of confirmation because the next thing that she knew, they’re stumbling into Charles’ Ferrari, lips interlocked with each other in a desperate and sloppy make-out session.

She’s grateful that the parking space is located in a discreet place because her appearance right now is less dignified than what Bruce Wayne’s daughter should be. Though, she really can’t seem to care right now. All she knows is the taste of Charles’ lips on her and how his hand traveled all across her body, giving her a delicious tease of pleasure.

They fell into bed together.

That night had been a bit of a blur, to be honest. He remembers dancing with y/n, laughing, and touching her under the club lights. He remembers dragging her to the edge of the dance floor, head leaning forward.

“Can I?” he had muttered, head cocking sideways.

Y/n had let out a laugh at that, hands winding around his neck before she too, leaned forward.

He remembers the sweet taste of her mouth, how she had opened her mouth, letting their tongue meet in a wet mess. How his hands had wandered around, starting from her back before reaching downwards towards the edge of her short dress.

“Let’s take this somewhere,” muttered y/n back then, releasing his mouth with a string of droll still connecting them. “Somewhere more private,” the last part was whispered and he remembers the jolt of arousal that hit him at that very moment.

Charles doesn’t have a clear memory of how they managed to get into his apartment. All he remembers is how he pinned y/n by his front door, savoring her as they rutted against each other like a teenager. 

The night ended with them on his bed, rustling against each other and-

Charles cracked his eyes open, watching the sun filter into his room from the crack of his curtain.

He could feel the pounding headaches as the memories from last night rushed into him like a tsunami. Of him winning the Monaco GP, of him attending the formal dinner, of him and y/n stumbling into bed together-

His eyes widened as he immediately turned his gaze toward the other side of the bed.

Sitting there, still topless with a blanket covering her, is y/n Wayne, brow furrowed as she scrolled something on her phone. That sight immediately warmed something across his heart as he stared at the woman silently, not wanting to avert his gaze for a second.

“You’re awake?” asked y/n, turning her gaze towards him.

He let out a hum, shuffling closer towards her.

At that, y/n’s hand fell on top of his head, caressing his unruly mop of hair. It’s soothing, something that he really needs amidst the headache that’s been throbbing inside of his head. They stayed like that for a couple of moments, basking in each other presence.

The moment didn’t last long because y/n phone rang.

“Yeah?” asked the woman before she stared at him for a moment before she began talking in a language that he didn’t understand.

Charles faintly recognizes it as German. He knows a couple of words, but with the way y/n talking as if she’s a native speaker, well, it’s safe to say that he really doesn’t have a clue about what she’s talking about. The phone call didn’t last long. Only a couple of minutes at best. Though, at the end, y/n let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” he asked, sitting up.

“Charles, listen,” stated the woman. “This is a bit awkward, but I gotta go.”

He ignores the disappointment that erupted inside his chest. The driver had been hoping that they could have breakfast together before taking a stroll around Monaco before he had to see her off.

“I really enjoyed last night but-“

Before she can even finish that sentence, Charles interrupts her again. “Can I see you again?”

Y/n blinked, staring at him. “Yes?”

“See you again,” said the driver, leaning closer. “I really enjoyed last night. More than simply enjoying it,” he continues. “I like to do it again.”

The woman is still staring at him.

“Of course, I mean not only fucking, but like, I would love to have a date with you,” he continue, tongue a bit tied at the sight of an angel in front of him. “If you give me the chance?”

Honestly, he was not expecting much. A woman like y/n must have had a lot of suitors or partners all her life. Charles will be the luckiest man on earth if y/n even gives him a chance for a single date, let alone dating her.

It was silent for a bit, as the both of them stared at each other with no words being exchanged.

The moment was broken when y/n let out a loud laugh.

It startled him a bit, Charles doesn’t really understand what’s funny about his declaration and yet, he doesn’t really mind it. After all, the sight of y/n letting out such a carefree laugh is something that he will integrate into his memory forever.

“Yeah,” said the woman, finally. “Let’s see each other again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” grinned the woman. “But next time, bring me to a proper date, okay?”

Charles laughed at that, giving her a single kiss.

taglist!

@piceous21 @myloveforfandom-blog @barnestatic @ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirl-dot-com @halleest @a-beaverhausen @sagestack @redcellghost @mac-daddy-210 @kellysthilaire

[gguk-n]

In Another Life (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- Max just lost the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry and the woman who was carrying his child. What happens when he transports to a place where she might exist? Does he finally get his happily ever after?

Warning- Angst, Major character death

{Max's POV}

My world came crashing down after that fateful call I received. I was in Qatar for the race weekend; my fiance Y/N didn't join me because she had been feeling unwell. I had just gotten off of the podium when a member of the RedBull team brought my phone. It was an unknown caller; I answered the call to "Is this Mr. Max Verstappen?" the voice asked. "yes" I replied, my heart started to beat a little louder and faster then it did after races. "I'm calling from the Princess Grace Hospital. You are Miss Y/N Y/L/N's emergency contact." they continued. "yes" I replied, a bad feeling making it's way to the pit of my stomach. "Is she ok? What happened? Why is she at the hospital and why are you calling me?" I rambled almost racing to the driver's room to change and leave. "We're sorry to inform you but Miss Y/L/N is no more" they said remorsefully. "What?" I stammered. "We tried our best but the collision was catastrophic. I'm sorry for your loss." they said. I stood still, in the middle of the paddock. My legs felt numb, "You're lying. She can't be dead" I screamed catching everyone's attention. People started to whisper, "Do something, you have to save her. You're doctors for fucks sake. Bring my girlfriend back. NOW" I bellowed. "I'm coming, I'm out of the country right now, but I want my girlfriend well and healthy by the time I'm there" I said finally gaining the feeling in my legs and ended the call.

Carlos, Charles, Lando and Checo were now standing next to me. "Everything OK?" Charles asked. I laughed, "It was the hospital, they were spewing nonsense that Y/N is dead. I spoke to her before the race. She was on the way back from the hospital. They say she's dead, haha. What a load of bull?" I said. All of their faces had dropped, Charles had moved forward to pat my back and Carlos wrapped me in a hug. "It's okay" Carlos muttered. "NO, NO. She can't be gone. We were gonna get married and have kids and not make them race car drivers since the sport gave her anxiety. Carlos this can't be true" I cried; my resolve breaking while Carlos hugged me tighter holding me up and patting my back. The flight back to Monaco was a blur, I don't remember how I got to the hospital, I don't remember filling out any forms, I don't remember her dad hugging me as they showed Y/N's lifeless body to me. What I remember is her face and it had a few scratches, her hands bruised, she looked peacefully asleep. I reached forward holding her hand in mine, "How could you leave me? You know how much I hate this world. You're the only thing that made it worth living for." I cried. The doctors entered the room and handed me the stuff she was carrying, "Here are her belongings. I'm very sorry for your loss, sir." he said handing me her stuff and a hospital file. I opened up the file to find an ultrasound scan and a report saying that she was pregnant. I fell down on the floor, "We were going to have a kid" I whispered which her father heard; I heard a wail leave his lips.

We buried her in a cemetery in her home town surrounded by flowers and greenery. I spent too much time there; I missed a few races too. But I was back before the final races; I didn't win a single race after her death. But when I stood on top of the podium as the World Driver's Champion of 2023, I didn't celebrate. How could I when the person who celebrated my every win was no where to be seen. I flew back to meet her after the race. As I was sat at her grave; "I won the championship for the third time. It didn't feel it though. You should've been there. I know I know, you must be angry since I missed 3 races and lost the last two. But you told me that the points were enough for me to win; so I won for us and our little one. How are you two? Both of you must be in heaven if there is a heaven. I wish I could say that I hope we meet but I don't think I'll make it heaven ever. I hope our child is happy. I love you lifde. You took a part of me when you left" I whispered, placing the bouquet of roses; a tradition I started after winning my first championship.

After the funeral, I was given Y/N's phone and messages were open; there was an unsent message. "Baby, I know you're racing rn, hope you win like always. btw, I went to the doctor and guess what? I'm pregnant. We're gonna have a mini Max soon. I know you'll be the best dad ever. I love you" it read. My tears didn't stop. I was robbed of a future I always dreamt of with her. That asshole drove while drunk, why did he deserve to live, why did he deserve to wake up every morning but the love of my life didn't? Why did he get to go back home when I couldn't even bring my girlfriend and kid back home? I hope he rots, I hope when I meet him he doesn't get to walk away from me for stealing the best thing that ever was mine.

The off season was torture, I spent my time laying in bed while my friends and family came over to make sure I ate and showered. They tried to get me to clean the house but I had left it untouched since the day she left. I wasn't ready to let her go just yet. Her parents would come in occasionally to check up on me. Her dad was currently sat at our table while I ate the food her mom made, "Max, you need to move on. Y/N must be suffering, watching you like this." he said. "I hope she is, she doesn't get to leave and expect me to be normal" I spoke. "Max, we love you. You are my son; I can't watch you like this. Y/N would want you to move on and live with the happy memories you two made." he said. "I know, I just need time" I mumbled while tears streamed down my face. He gave me a hug and then left. I wasn't ready, I don't think I'll ever be ready.

I didn't attend the pre season training until Horner dragged me. We spent some time but I couldn't focus. I was supposed to fly out to Bahrain in a week for the first race of the season. I don't remember when I fell asleep but I woke up to a much cleaner apartment. It pissed me off, so I called Lando who answered in a few seconds. "Who the fuck cleaned my apartment? I told you I would do it at my pace" I screamed. "Mate, no one entered your house. I don't know what you're talking about" he replied. "Don't fuck with me. Where's all of Y/N's stuff. It's missing" I said. "Who's Y/N?" he asked. "Don't fuck with me Lando. You know who Y/N is" I cried. "Max, I really don't. Was it the girl you took home the other day?" he questioned. I was annoyed and cut the call.

After some searching and the whole house being devoid of any sign of Y/N I decided to call her but my phone didn't have her contact. I flew to where her grave was which was missing. Everything was strange, I don't know why but I googled myself. That's when I saw it, my ex's name wasn't Y/N and she didn't die in a car crash. With time I realised that I was in an alternate universe where we had never met. A world where I didn't know Y/N existed was the worst kind but it gave me hope that maybe Y/N was alive in this universe. Maybe, I was here to meet her, to have the chance that was robbed from me. I spent my time racing, making sure I won every race so that incase she watched Formula One she knew about me. I would explore each city in hopes of running into her.

It was during Silverstone weekend when I went to the cafe the day after the race. It was very early so there weren't many people around. I walked into the cafe when I heard it, the voice that brought a smile to my face, there she stood. My Y/N, at the counter ordering her coffee, Iced Spanish Latte she said, her favourite. I smiled at her before walking towards the counter. I ordered and went to stand next to her while I waited for the order. She turned towards and smiled nervously, "You're Max Verstappen, right?" she asked. I nodded. "Oh my God, I'm a huge fan. Sorry to bother you but can I get a picture with you?" she asked. I agreed and we ended up taking a picture and talking after grabbing our drinks. She looked the same, her hair flowed down her back, her face had those moles I loved to kiss, her bright smile and infectious laughter. She was an avid Formula One fan from what I got. I offered her tickets to the next race which she denied politely. She got up to bid me farewell, "Will you go out with me?" I blurted, I hoped that she would say yes. "I'm sorry Max, but I have a boyfriend" she mumbled apologetically. I nodded, "It's ok. I'm sorry about this" I muttered. "No, no, I'm sorry for giving the wrong impression. I'll get going. Thanks for the picture and autograph though" she said while she walked away from my life for the second time.

A couple races later, I saw her again. This time at the paddock, I greeted her as she entered wearing Ferrari paddock passes. I eyed the card on her neck before she said that she was here with her boyfriend. I nodded along and watched her walk towards the Ferrari hospitality. It was media day and we were supposed to go get interviewed when she walked in with Carlos. He introduced her to us as his girlfriend. My heart shattered as I watched her peck his lips. She was kind, loving and understanding like she always was. I couldn't watch Carlos have what was once mine. In this universe, she never was mine. It hurt to watch her laugh at his jokes or kiss him or hug him. It hurt so much to watch her be in love with a man that wasn't me. I couldn't help but look at her longingly, there was a sort of pain in my eyes that only she caught it seems. Because she asked to speak to me as soon as I had come to the paddock on race day. I took her to my driver's room where we sat down.

"What's up Max? You look at me like a puppy that's been kicked. You look at me like I have hurt you beyond repair" she asked. I breathed out, "What if I told you I wasn't from this universe?" I asked. "I would say you're crazy" she said. "But I was, I was from a time line where I was gonna marry the love of my life, the woman that made life worth living. The universe where I wasn't only winning on track but also in real life because of her. We'd been together for 5 years and were planning a life together. I had proposed and she couldn't join me for my Qatar race last year because she was sick, I wish she had. Then then..... It was because she was carrying our child, she had gone to the doctor and found out but she was never able to tell me in person, I found out later. Then I get a call from the hospital saying that some asshole killed her in a drunk driving accident when she was returning home. I fly back to find her lifeless body. I haven't gotten over her yet, I missed races and performed poorly. But what could I do when I lost my life. Then one day I wake up here, a universe where we've never met and I spend all my time looking for her and then I find her at a cafe. We talk, she's a fan" she looked at me expectantly with tears in her eyes,"I'm sorry" she mumbled. "I ask her out but she has a boyfriend. Then we meet at the race and every time I see her my heart breaks watching them because that was me. She looked just like you, sounded just like you, was just like you with the same name." I cried, finally breaking down. She wrapped her arms around me as my body shook while sobs ripped through my chest.

"Max, if alternate universes are real and you are from another and lost the love of your life that looked exactly like me. I'm sorry. But I know, that she...I mean me from that universe wouldn't want you to mope. She would want you to move on. She would look down at you and make sure you were safe during every race, She would hope that you found half the happiness you gave her. She would want you to be yourself and not let this affect you. I can't tell you to move on now, but I can tell you to take your time. She wants you to always be happy. Please, take care of yourself. Be happy. Remember her but move on for her sake if not yours" she said all the while hugging me. I cried for a very long time and she embraced me until I let her go. She wiped away my tears and had me drink water. We walked out while I went to race and she went to Ferrari.

I won the race and headed back home after the weekend. When I went to sleep, I woke up back in my apartment. How did I know it was mine and not the other universe is because there was a paper next to the table that read, "I'm sorry for your loss. I cleaned up the space a bit but there are pictures of the whole house as it was before with all her memories in a couple boxes in the closet. I went to her grave with her dad too. I got her flowers. I hope you can move on. P.S We're leading the championship, hope you didn't throw mine away" I laughed after reading the note. Like it said, all the stuff was in the cupboard and there were pictures. I smiled at the boxes, I guess Y/N was the one who intervened because she knew I needed this. I walked out to the balcony and looked up at the sky before saying, "I'll live better. I'll make you proud, just you watch and then I'll come to you whenever you want me too"

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello!

I've been getting very into DC again, from all the comics I had in my attic.

So i would like to request a "meeting the batfam" like think.

Being Bruce's new boyfriend and meeting the kids and how would they react.

Have a nice day! (You're the only think keeping me from commiting a crime/jk)

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Headcanons

Ive been on a kick lately of making half-god characters, so reader is the son of a god, hehe ^^

You were the son of Ares, a half god, and the son of a god most feared, and that the Justice league had fought many times.

So, by relation, many people didn’t trust you when they learned about your parentage. Had you been any crueler of a person, that might have driven you down a path where you followed in your fathers’ footsteps, but you weren’t.

You ended up inheriting many of his powers, even gaining his clairvoyance and precognition in dreams. Said dreams had been your first sign that you were more than just your average person, as you foresaw many of the larger disasters around the world.

There ends up being a sense of duty in your heart as your dreams keep warning you about an invasion of earth, becoming more and more detailed every night. It reaches a point where you think you are going mad.

As a last-ditch effort, you end up in Gotham, where you spend days trying to find any of the bats, just trying to find somebody to believe you. In the end, you stumble across Bruce, who probably thinks you are on something because of the less than put together state you are in.

That is until you spill everything you have been dreaming about, and how its all happened, and how this dream keeps haunting you every night.

Bruce of course listens to everything you have to say, and takes you as seriously as anything else he would. He keeps your warning in mind and gets prepared, and when your precognition comes to pass, he is ready.

From then in, Bruce passes by your place every now and then, as you end up moving to Gotham as Batman is the only hero you feel takes you seriously.

Hes the one to help you figure out your true parentage, and gets you in contact with some people who can help you deal with your new developing powers. You two end up bonding a lot, and over time, fall in love.

You both make each other feel like a full person and like you are understood. The relationship is kept quiet on Bruces end, not because he doesn’t trust his family or anything, but because he just wants to keep it to himself for a bit.

It does get a bit hard to hide the hand shaped bruises on his hips or torso when your godly strength slips out, but Bruce has lived with worse aches and bruises in his life, so its not something people notice.

You never went out of your way to become a hero, even with your godly powers. You are happy living your life and being together with Bruce, much of your stress gone since you know Bruce will believe you when it comes to your dreams.

When the day finally comes where you go to meet his family, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Sure, you’ve met them in passing as their vigilante alter egos, when they’ve followed Bruce during his meetings with you, but this will be as Bruces lover.

Bruce is endeared by how hard you want to make a good impression, how you fuss with your hair and your clothes to be most presentable. When you ask him if you need to bring a gift or something, he just laughs a little and kisses your forehead, telling you to stop worrying as he’s sure they’ll love you.

The family all know Bruce is bringing his lover that night for family dinner, but they all don’t know who it is, even Alfred is in the dark.

They are all a bit on edge, as Bruce doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to partners. And since he didn’t tell them a name, they assume its not the people he’s normally been with, like Selina or Talia.

Imagine their surprise when Bruce arrives with you on his arm, from your civilian clothes to your sheepish smile, to you looking downright nervous to meet them as you clearly want to make a good first impression.

It might take a bit for any of them to recognize you, as only a few of them might have met you in passing, but you probably end up telling them during dinner when they ask how you and Bruce met.

I can’t see them being against you more than they would any other partner, especially when you go out of your way to use your dreams and abilities to help as many people as possible.

Cass is most likely the one to warm up to you first, as she can easily read that you are a good person who loves Bruce very much, and Cass’s approval makes the others become less tense and more open to the idea of you.

Alfred is also happy that Bruce has found someone who isn’t a criminal or assassin for once, even though they all know you could punch a guy to smithereens if you wanted too, thanks to your godly strength.

But your personality makes it clear that’s not something you want to do, so that gives you extra points in their books. They most likely use their knowledge from Diana and her parentage when it comes to you, incase you end up doing something a little too godly without realizing.

They’ve all been around many different kinds of people and beings, so I don’t think anything you do put them off. They’ll all just need time to warm up to you, and see with their own eyes that you truly do love Bruce, and that Bruce loves you back just as much.

It would take a while, as they were all trained by Bruce and are all suspicious of anybody and take forever to trust. It starts to make you think they’ll never like you, even when Bruce tells you they will, they just need time.

You know you’ve gained their trust when they start showing up in your apartment, be it after patrol, during the day, or any other time, they’re likely to just appear. This also means you end up learning a lot more first aid than you thought you’d ever need.

The last to trust you is Damian, but you can tell you scored a win when he demands you learn self-defense, as your form is horrible, and he drags you down to the cave to walk you through the basics.

Bruce feels like his heart could burst with love when he sees his family accepting you, and he couldn’t be any happier. The batfam is pretty damn happy too, as Bruce starts taking care of himself because of you.

Can’t have a date if he hasn’t slept in days, or if he’s covered in bruises or has broken bones. You probably end up spending a lot of time at the manor too, since Bruce can’t just go into town to spend time in your apartment during the day, or else the paparazzi would find out about the relationship almost immediately.

So, all in all, his kids would like you quite a lot after they got enough time to learn what kinda person you were, and what your morals were. They might even start seeing you as a safe person to go too when they need someone to talk too or just need some company.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Heyy could you do a Kylian Mbappé Imagine where they have a argument and don't talk to each other for a few days but with a happy ending?

Together, Always

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kylian has been neglecting you for a while and you've finally had enough.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — boyfriend!Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.7k

Warnings! ANGST, relationship problems, fighting, arguments, fluff, soft Kylian, sad Kylian, sad reader

It's been three days.

Three days since you've seen him. Three days since you had last talked. And three days since the huge argument that had resulted in you storming out of the flat, leaving him behind in a flurry of angry tears and broken promises.

You had never really argued with him before, not like this at least. You've had plenty of disagreements before, of course, but they were always just silly little things. This was different, this was about the heart of your relationship and the future of your life together.

When you had first met Kylian, back when he was still playing for Monaco, he had been so into you. He would call you up every day, take you out on romantic dates and hold your hand everywhere. And then he had signed with PSG and everything had changed. He had been too busy to go out on dates, too busy to spend time with you, too busy to do anything other than play football and go home.

And that had been okay for a while, you'd understood. You'd been happy to support him in his career, even if it meant that you didn't get as much time together. You'd tell yourself that it would be worth it in the long run, when he'd get more time off and you could spend it together. But it never happened, he just kept training and playing and going away on tours with the team, and you were been left behind.

You'd tried talking to him, you'd tried being understanding and supportive. But it just felt like he wasn't hearing you, like he was just humouring you until he could get back to his game. And eventually you'd snapped.

You stand in the living room, arms crossed, voice tight with frustration. "I don't understand why you can't see my point of view, Kylian."

Kylian, pacing back and forth, runs a hand down his face. "It's not that I don't see it. I just think you're overreacting. It was just one night out with the guys."

You shake your head, feeling disappointment again. You were so tired. Tired of being the only one to fight for this relationship. Tired of being the only one who cared. "It's not just about the night out. It's about every night. You said we would spend more time together, but you're always busy. I barely see you."

Kylian stops pacing, his eyes meeting yours, swimming in guilt. "I'm doing my best, but my career demands a lot. You knew this when we got together."

"That doesn't mean I should always come second," you reply, voice cracking slightly. "I just want to feel important to you."

He sighs, stepping closer but not reaching out. "You are important to me. But this is my dream, and it's not something I can just put on hold."

Your heart aches, and the room feels suffocating. "You know what, I think I'll stay at Sophie's place for a few days." You knew you shouldn't do this. Run away. You should talk about it. Get him to understand. But right now the room felt too small, he was too close, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.

So you're running.

Kylian frowns, reaching out to you, but you take a step back. "Baby, come on, don't do that. We can work through this."

You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. "No, we can't. You don't want to."

You'd never seen him look so crestfallen. And you'd never felt so brokenhearted. But you'd done what you had to do. You'd needed space, needed to think and figure out if you even wanted to continue in this relationship. You knew without a doubt you still love him. Just as much as the first time you said it, if not more. But did he.

With the way he's been acting lately, you weren't so sure.

It feels like you're fighting a losing battle. And that was why you needed to take a step back, and try and figure out what you should do. Even if it felt like your heart was breaking.

He doesn't say another word as you make your way to the bedroom, nothing as you pack up your suitcase, nothing as you grab your car keys.

He doesn't say anything.

He just stands there, arms crossed, looking utterly defeated. You pause for a moment, feeling your resolve slip slightly. But you remind yourself why you're doing this, why you need to do this, and you turn and walk out the door. Closing it firmly behind you.

*********

The days since then had been quiet.

You've barely slept or eaten, and your mind had been a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts. you can't help but wonder what he's doing. Is he still training? Is he missing you? Is he thinking about you? Do you even matter to him?

You push the thoughts away as best you can, trying to piece everything together, and get yourself under control. And you realised, you had no idea what to do. You wanted Kylian, you loved him so much. But he made it so hard for you to stay, to continue loving him.

You wanted him to be there for you, to care for you, to love you in return. But he made it so hard to feel like you were a priority.

It feels like you're in a nightmare.

How does someone get over the love of their life? Did you even want to.

Kylian is also trying to deal with the absence, though he is hiding his feelings well. He immerses himself in the matches and the training, hoping it will distract him from the void left by your departure. But it doesn't. Your absence is like a gaping hole in his life that he can't seem to fill, no matter how hard he tries.

The time without you feels like a lifetime, and it's the longest time you've been apart since you met. It's been a while since he's felt this lonely , this empty. He misses the way you always made him feel. The way you made him laugh, the way you made him feel so alive.

But more than anything, he misses the warmth of your touch. The softness of your skin. The way he could bury himself in your neck and feel safe. The way you could make everything seem alright. The way you could make all his problems disappear.

And now that's been taken away.

He misses it all so much, it physically hurts. His stomach twists with guilt and regret and longing. He wants you back, he needs you back. He hates that you're gone. Hates that he doesn't get to wake up beside you and fall asleep in your arms.

But he knows why you left, he can't blame you. He's been awful. He's been so focused on the football, on making it to the top, he hasn't made any effort with you. And it's not fair.

You deserve more than he's been giving you. And he wants to change that. Wants to be better for you, wants to try harder.

He wants to make things right. To make it up to you. And he will.

As much as he hates you being away, he knows it's for the best. You need the space and time to figure things out. And he needs to figure it out for himself too. Needs to learn how to be better for you.

He hopes that you'll forgive him, that you'll take him back and that you'll be willing to give him another chance. Because he wants one. He wants to prove himself to you.

*********

It's late evening when you receive his text. The first one in three days.

Your phone buzzes with the message, and your heart skips a beat. You take a deep breath, before opening the text app, and reading his message.

“Hey. I miss you.”

You let out a small gasp, feeling a lump form in your throat. It's such a simple message, but it feels like the most precious thing in the world. Your hands shake slightly as you type out a response.

“I miss you too.”

He sends another text immediately after.

“I'm sorry.”

You swallow hard, your heart jumping slightly at the message. It's the first time he's said it. The first time he's apologised. It's not enough. You want more. You want to feel wanted. You want to tell you that you're his priority.

“I know,” you reply, deciding not to make the first move until he does. You want him groveling for your forgiveness.

There's another pause before he sends another text.

“Do you want to come over? Talk things through?”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if this is the right time. Wondering if you're ready to go back. To see him. But you need to know where you stand with him. Need to know if there's any hope for your relationship. And maybe, maybe it's time for you to be a bit softer. To make things easier for him. To let him show you he cares.

“Okay.”

You watch the three dots appear as he types out a message, before disappearing.

“See you soon.”

Three little words but they make your heart soar. You let out a deep breath, your nerves fluttering in your belly. You've never felt so anxious before. So unsure of the future.

What happens next? Do you stay together, or do you break up. Do you forgive him, or do you move on?

The answer lies with Kylian.

You can't help but wonder what he's going to say, what he's going to do. You're desperate for him to tell you that you're his priority. That he needs you. That he wants to try. That he regrets letting you go.

You want to hear that you're his everything.

And you want him to show it to you. Want him to prove it. Want him to be there for you. To support you. To love you. You hope that he does. Hope that he means it when he says he's sorry. Hope that he's ready to make amends.

Hope that he's ready to try.

You pull up to the flat, your stomach filled with butterflies. You haven't seen him in three days, and you're so nervous. But you know you have to do this. You check yourself in the mirror, making sure you're perfect, and then get out of the car.

The elevator is slow, but you're grateful for it. You need the time to prepare yourself. You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

You're ready for this. Ready for anything.

When you step out of the elevator, he's already standing in front of the door. You feel your breath hitch as you see him. He looks different than he did last time. His eyes are red and his skin is paler. He looks tired.

He looks like hell.

You feel the urge to run to him, to jump into his arms and never let go. But you hold yourself back, waiting for him to make the first move.

He steps forward, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

The conversation feels strained, the air thick with emotion. You both know what's at stake, and you're both scared. You're scared of losing him. And he's scared of losing you.

He steps closer towards you, and you step back slightly. He pauses, looking at you sadly. “Do you want to come in?”

You nod, following him into the apartment. Your heart pounds in your ears, and your stomach twists with anxiety. You've never felt this nervous before. This scared. But you know you have to do this. You have to talk.

The living room feels small and empty, devoid of life. It feels like a tomb, and you want to run from it. Run from the tension and the pain that hangs in the air. But you know you can't. Not yet.

Kylian gestures for you to sit down, but you shake your head. “No, I'll stand.” Just in case you need to run again.

He nods, stading at a safe distance from you. “So…” he starts. “I don't know where to start.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that this is it. This is the moment you've been waiting for. “Just say whatever you need to say.”

He nods, running a hand down his face, stepping closer to you. “Okay.” He pauses for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “First of all, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you. Sorry that I haven't been making enough effort. I know I've been focusing on my career, and I shouldn't have let it come between us. But it's not because I don't want to be with you. You're everything to me. You're my priority.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, feeling a lump form in your throat. It's everything you've ever wanted to hear. Everything you've ever dreamed of. But you can't let him off so easily. You have to make him work for it. “How do I know you'll follow through on that? How do I know you'll actually make an effort?”

He smiles sadly at you, reaching out to grab your hands, thumbs caressing the back of them. “I don't expect you to trust me immediately. I've let you down before, and I don't expect you to forget that. But I'll prove it to you, I promise. I'll do everything I can to show you that I want this. That I want us.”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart softening slightly. You want to believe him, you really do. But you're scared. Scared that he's just saying this to get you back. Scared that he doesn't mean it.

You look up at him, your voice breaking. “I want it too. But I need to know it's real.”

He steps closer, pulling you into his arms. “It is.”

You feel yourself melt against him, your heart beating rapidly. It feels good to be in his arms again. Too good. He holds you close, stroking your hair and back. “I love you.”

You feel tears roll down your cheeks, and you let out a small sob. “I love you too.” You sniffle slightly, looking up at him. He smiles softly at you, cupping your face. You smile back at him. Maybe this will work after all. Maybe he'll actually try. “I missed you,” you admit.

He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “I missed you too.”

You stand there for a moment, holding each other tightly. Feeling the love between you. And you know that this isn't over. This is just the beginning.

“Baby, I'm sorry." He apologizes again. "I was selfish and I didn't realize how much my behavior was hurting you. You deserve better than that. These past few days without you were horrible. I don't ever want to experience that again.”

You feel your chest tighten slightly at his words, and you pull back slightly to look up at him. “I do. But I know that you're busy, and that your career is important. It's just hard sometimes when you don't seem to have any time for me.” You smile sadly at him, cupping his face. " And I'm sorry too. I should have communicated my feelings sooner. I was so caught up in being hurt, I forgot to let you in.”

He nods, eyes soft and full of love as he looks down at you. “I promise I'll be the man worth your love. Just promise me if you feel bad you'll tell me right away.”

You nod in agreement, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you." you whisper against his lips.

"I love you too. " He pulls you back into his arms, and you know that things are going to be okay. You'll still fight, you'll still struggle. But it'll be together. And that's all that matters. You lean your head against his chest, holding him tightly. Knowing that this is where you belong.

In his arms. With him. Forever.

You seal your promise with a kiss and know that no matter what comes next, you're ready for it. As long as you're together.

-Bianca🌻

[iamthat-iam]

"Ego", The Final Boss

Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.

The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.

Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."

She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.

One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."

"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."

Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."

Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."

"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."

"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"

"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"

"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."

"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.

"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"

After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.

- -

One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."

"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"

Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."

Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"

Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.

"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."

Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"

Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."

"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.

Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."

"You're so welcome, sweetie."

Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Wanted to write something short and angsty but also with the dabble of fantasy. Enjoy

Yandere Short Stories: Loved By Death

Yandere GN Grim Reaper x Afab MMA Fighter Reader

A meadow full of forget me note greeted (your name) when she finally opened her eyes. The baby blue flowers felt unwelcoming despite their delicate scent. Where was she? All she remembered was winning the tournament and then… and then it was all blank.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet.” A familiar voice reached her ears which made her freeze. (Your name) whipped her head around to come face to face with her little sister. The young girl still had the same innocent appearance she had the last time she saw her… before she was murdered. “It’s not your time.”

(Your name) rushed forward and grabbed the little girl’s hand. She didn’t want to leave her sister, she didn’t want to live without seeing her face again.

“Ava, I’m here… I’m here with you.” (Your name) muttered, her expression hopeful. “Please, I want to stay this time. Please let me stay with you…”

Ava frowned and bent down to grab her older sister’s cheeks. Her thumbs brushed away the hot tears. Why were Ava’s fingers so cold? She was never so cold…

“You have a bigger purpose, big sister. You’re meant for so much more than chasing after death.” Ava whispered. “You need to let me go. There are people that will love you-“

“I don’t care about other people, I simply want to stay with you. I want to wake up from this hellish nightmare to see my precious little sister.” (Your name) clung to her sister who wrapped her small arms around her. Ava was cold like ice and it upset (your name) even more. “It’s my fault I couldn’t protect you. It should have been me-“

Ava placed her fingers over (your name)’s lips to silence her. “It’s not your fault, it was never your fault.”

(Your name) nodded her head and held Ava closer to her body. Her chin rested on the small girl’s blonde locks. Even though they were not related by blood, Ava was her most precious person. Her pillar and strength.

When Ava gruesomely died at the hands of a rival, (your name) couldn’t forgive herself. If she hadn’t gotten into a man’s world of martial arts, would the outcome have been different? Would Ava still be alive? What if she had just settled for an idyllic life rather than one of glory and gore?

(Your name)’s head spun with many what ifs, yet none satisfied her desire for a different outcome. So (your name) always settled for putting herself in the path of death every time. All so she could see her little sister once more, to sit in this picturesque field of flowers.

“You’re over thinking again.” Ava hummed while she pulled back. Her small fingers poked (your name)’s furrowed brow. “You keep furrowing your brow and you’ll put wrinkles on your pretty face. Then how will you ever get a husband?”

(Your name) bitterly laughed. “How could I ever love a man when they have only ever shown us violence.”

“You’re such a Debbie downer.” Ava sighed, the young girl pointed at the sky that showed a bloody (your name) receiving CPR by the paramedics. “You’re going to be in so much pain when you go back. You better hurry before you shorten your life even more. Stop your dance with death, before you do die for real.”

“And what if I don’t?” (Your name) asked in a hushed tone. “If I continue down this path… will I see you again or will I burn?”

Ava chuckled. “I thought you weren’t religious? We just won’t be able to meet for awhile is all. This is the fiftieth time this year that you’ve come to see me, you mad woman.”

“Is it so strange to want to see my most precious person?”

“It is. People are starting to think you’re the undead.” Ava stood up and held her hand out for (your name) to take. “Walk with me.”

“Of course. It’s what I look most forward to.”

The two girls walked together in the field of flowers for a few short minutes before they stood in front of a golden door.

“This is where we part again. Big sis?” Ava smiled warmly at (your name). “Please take care of yourself. I better not see you here again. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. No promises.” (Your name) put her hands in her pocket, the young woman giving Ava a warm smile. “I love you more.”

The two sisters then parted ways, Ava now left alone once more in her field of flowers. The young girl turned around to stare at the hooded figure that stood on the hill.

“For how long do you and my sister plan to dance, death?” Ava asked in a hushed tone, she was perplexed by the reaper’s fascination. “Do you enjoy this game that much?”

Death nodded, the skeleton’s red eyes admired the flowers that slowly began to rot and decay as they walked closer to Ava. “Until she begs me to take her.”

Ava rolled her eyes at the reaper whose bones rattled with excitement. Never would the blonde have thought Death was a lovesick fool.

The reaper sighed before he turned to Ava. “Do you think she’d like me if I had flesh? Should I be more masculine or feminine presenting?”

Ava glanced the skeleton up and down. “I don’t think she’s ever dated before so I don’t think it’d matter.”

The reaper hugged themself with their skeletal arms. How badly they wished to hug (your name), to hold her tightly and never let her go. They could picture it! They were sure (your name) would love to stay in this flower field with Ava and them till the end of time!

“You’re a freak.” Ava muttered at the skeleton who held their cheeks like a school girl with a crush. “Stop that. You’re supposed to be a grim reaper, not a grim simp.”

“You have no idea the magnitude of my feelings. To roam my entire existence reaping the souls of the deceased.” The reaper replied in a hushed tone. “And then to meet someone who just won’t die… whose soul will not stay in my real… she’s perfect.”

Ava sighed and sat down in the flowers. Her poor, unsuspecting sister was loved by death.