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gyubakeries · 3 days ago

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svt x what is 💌

stop wallowing in the past about shitty exes and wishing for that one whirlwind romance to sweep you off your feet. focus on the present. focus on what is.

follow the cupid of valentine's present to show you the beauty of living in the moment with person right in front of you. [happy endings only!! for this one at least]

check out what stories the cupid of valentine's past has to share over here <3

choi seungcheol 💌

it had all started when seungcheol offered to lift your heavy boxes and carry them all the way up to the seventh floor on moving day. “it’s no big deal,” he had smiled, but you were sure you saw him wincing in pain later that evening.

then he started inviting you over for dinner almost every night. “neighbour obligations,” he had said with a sheepish smile when you asked him about the five-course dinner he had prepared for you.

“you’re obliged to make me dinner three times a week? for six months?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“if i was your boyfriend, i could make you dinner every day,” seungcheol replies. “forever, hopefully.”

now, three years later, when you’re struggling to carry a heavy box into your new living room, seungcheol quickly takes it away from you and carries it inside, setting it down with a loud thud.

“babe,” you protest. “one box wouldn’t have killed me.”

“i promised i’d be lifting your boxes forever, didn’t i?” he says with a cheeky grin, and you don’t think you mind spending forever with seungcheol.

yoon jeonghan 💌

“try again. it’s 君はとてもかわいいね,” jeonghan repeats.

you’re so cute.

“okay, uh, 君はとてもかわいいね?” you repeat after him, trying your best to mimic the intonation of jeonghan’s voice.

“much better,” jeonghan nods, shutting the kids’ japanese exercise book. “i think we can conclude our lessons here for today.”

“what does it even mean?” you ask him as he lays his head in your lap, your hand automatically coming up to play with his hair.

“it means, there’s a cockroach in your shoe,” jeonghan snickers, faking a pout when you playfully flick his forehead.

later that night, when he’s just about to fall asleep, you join him under the covers. your bodies meld together instantly, out of habit, much like the way jeonghan has perfected the way he speaks japanese over the years.

“i figured out what it really means,” you whisper, and jeonghan laughs softly.

“愛してる,” he whispers against your lips, words as soft as the kiss he leaves there.

i love you.

hong jisoo 💌

“honey, what about the red ones?” joshua’s voice sounds distorted and crackly, likely because of the bad service in the small shop he stumbled into in italy.

“shua, you already bought two fridge magnets, the wall decorations, and like a thousand keychains,” you sigh. “do we need tiny espresso cups? we don’t even like espresso.”

“but they’ll look so cute next to the miniature tuk-tuk showpiece i bought from thailand!” joshua whines. “please?”

you sigh. even shitty video calls can’t mask the pout on joshua’s face.

“at this point we’ll need an extra room just for the souvenirs you buy on tour,” you tease. “buy them, they’re cute.”

a few weeks later, your mother says, “nice fridge magnet. where’d you get it from?”

“italy,” you reply, busy washing the dishes and putting them away.

“when did you go to italy?” your mother asks, sounding a little surprised.

“oh, i didn’t,” you smile. “joshua got it for me.”

wen junhui 💌

“meow.”

a human-sounding meow sounds from behind you, and you turn around quickly, only to see a tall figure crouched in the cramped alleyway you are crouched in as well, feeding mr. twinkles, your unofficial cat son.

“wait, jun? is that you?”

you recognize the man you’ve been going on dates with for the last two months, feeding mr. twinkles’ girlfriend cat food.

“oh! do you feed the cats here too?” junhui asks, and you shuffle to the side to reveal mr. twinkles.

“yeah! this is mr. twinkles,” you introduce the cat to junhui.

“you’ve been feeding susan’s boyfriend?” junhui’s eyes light up in recognition. “i guess even the cats want us to end up together, don’t you agree?”

you can only smile bashfully as mr. twinkles stalks over to susan to snuggle up to her. you look over to junhui, who sends you a flirtatious wink.

when junhui leads you out of the alleyway for a coffee, you can only thank the cat gods for approving of the man who has irreversibly captured your heart.

kwon soonyoung 💌

“are you tired? we can go to bed now,” soonyoung offers, and you nod. it’s the first time you’re sleeping over at his apartment since you started dating, and you can’t help but feel nervous and excited.

you follow him into his bedroom, and the sight of the bed makes you freeze in your tracks.

“where am i supposed to… sleep?”

you gesture at the soonyoung-shaped empty space on the bed surrounded by tiger plushies of all shapes and sizes, taking up the remaining space.

“oh,” soonyoung mumbles. he’s quick to push all the plushies off the bed, but he keeps a particularly large one at the foot of the bed.

later, when you’re wrapped up in soonyoung’s arms, he speaks in a soft voice, his earnest eyes sparkling. “i’ve never removed all my tigers from my bed for anyone else.”

“oh, you can put them back if-”

“it means that i think you’re the one,” he cuts you off. “do you think you could feel the same way?”

you giggle at his question, because you know that you already do.

jeon wonwoo 💌

a tap on your shoulder distracts you from the notes you had just started taking down. you turn to the side to see your classmate-slash-campus crush, jeon wonwoo, looking at you apologetically.

“i’m so sorry, but, can i borrow a pen from you?” he whispers.

had anyone else asked you that question, you would’ve felt annoyed. your pens were precious and pricey, and you didn’t like parting with them too often.

for wonwoo, however…

“sure!” you agree, hoping you didn’t come across as too eager. you take a pen from your pouch and hold it out for wonwoo.

the second reason for your easy compliance is this—the feeling of wonwoo’s fingers brushing against yours as he takes the pen.

the fluttering in your heart lasts till the end of the lecture, when wonwoo holds the pen close to the end facing you, just as keen to feel a brush of your skin against his.

“wonwoo,” you say that day, trying your best not to laugh. “if you want to hold my hand that bad, just ask me.”

in a few minutes, you walk out of the lecture hall with wonwoo, along with matching smiles and intertwined hands.

lee jihoon 💌

“here’s the edited version,” jihoon says, dropping a folder on your table. “let me know if you need me to look over anything else.” that’s all he says before he’s walking away, hands stuffed in his pockets.

you don’t notice the red tingeing the tips of his ears.

“oof, jihoon is tough with his edits, all the best,” soonyoung winces, and you frown.

“but he’s always so nice in my edits?” you say, and soonyoung gasps.

“he’s becoming a softie,” soonyoung shakes his head. “absolutely down bad for you.”

the next time jihoon is returning an edited draft of your new short novel, you excitedly flip to the last page.

saturday. my house. story-outlining for new plot. you and me? - from, your writer :)

and in jihoon’s neat handwriting, that matches the hearts he’s been leaving in your drafts for all these months, there’s a reply.

i’ll be there at 7. buy me some diet coke. i’ll bring you coffee - from, your editor <3

lee seokmin 💌

“this next song is perhaps love, by eric nam and cheeze,” seokmin announces to the cafe. “i’m dedicating this to the person who i might be falling in love with. perhaps.”

the audience laughs, and seokmin lets his eyes focus on your busy figure, serving the patrons with a smile, before he takes a deep breath and starts singing.

the lyrics of the song seokmin is singing latches onto your brain, and you try not to read too much into his kind eyes and bright smile, but you can’t help the way your heart beats rapidly around him.

“hey,” seokmin says from behind you, and you turn to face him with a smile, hoping that your blushing didn’t look obvious.

“hey! you sounded really great tonight,” you compliment him sincerely. “do you want your usual ord-”

“did you listen to the last song?” seokmin cuts you off, suddenly sounding nervous.

you nod, unable to form words.

“it was for you,” he blurts out. “every song has been for you, and it’s okay if you don’t feel-”

you cut him off this time, with a kiss. the twinkle in his eyes tells you that he knows.

kim mingyu 💌

“what’ll you be having today?” mingyu asks, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“surprise me,” you smirk, and the man instantly turns away to concoct a new drink for you.

while you wait at your table, you shamelessly ogle at the way mingyu’s biceps are bulging against the blue polo he has to wear as uniform as he shakes up your surprise drink. and you can tell he likes the attention, judging from the way he’s looking right back at you with a flirtatious grin.

you’re a little disappointed that someone else brings your drink to the table, but when you read the text scrawled onto the paper cup, you quickly find out why.

it’s been three months of staring. let me take you out? - mingyu

the brush of your hands against his is just as sweet as the drink he made you as you slide the empty paper cup, adorned with some more text, over to mingyu before you head out of the cafe.

xxx-xxx-xxx. let me know when you’re free for a date. i’ll surprise you this time ;)

the text comes in within fifteen minutes, and you smile to yourself on the way back home.

xu minghao 💌

“any personal recommendations?” you ask the cute cashier, minghao, as you check your books out, hoping to strike up some conversation with him.

“uh, i don’t really read,” minghao replies with a shy smile.

maybe it was the flicker of disappointment in your eyes, or maybe he’s just down bad for you, but by the time you’re walking into the bookstore again—two thursdays later, like clockwork—minghao has read both the books you bought from your last visit.

he lurks around the bookshelf you’re currently examining, and attempts to lean against it in a cool way. clearing his throat to grab your attention, he says, “so, what are your thoughts on the weird pigeon?”

“i thought you said you didn’t read?” you smile, amused at the reference, and minghao scratches his nape.

“ever since you started coming in, i’ve been wanting to talk book to you, so…” minghao trails off awkwardly.

you laugh at his choice of words, but then say, “if you really want to delve into the book, maybe we could get a coffee sometime soon?”

“my shift is over soon,” minghao says. “it’s a date, then?”

hopefully, the kiss on his cheek is enough of an answer.

boo seungkwan 💌

“i’m out of tea,” you bring up one day, when seungkwan is over at your house to help you assemble the new bookcase you ordered from ikea.

“buy some,” he replies in that no-nonsense tone of his, and you groan and roll your eyes for dramatic effect. he looks over at you, his gaze softening. “have you been having trouble sleeping again?”

you nod, and seungkwan curses himself for not noticing your pale skin or tired eyes earlier.

two days later, you’re greeted with the smell of fresh tangerine tea when you enter your house.

“boo? you didn’t have to make me more,” you sigh, seeing your best friend in the kitchen, brewing his special ‘sleeping potion’ for you.

“baby,” he calls out in his soft voice. “of course i had to. someone’s gotta take care of you.”

that night when he sleeps over at your place, holding you close to his chest, it goes unquestioned. just like the non-platonic nicknames, or the jars of tangerine tea in your fridge.

whether he’s just a best friend, or something more, your sleepless nights are much calmer with seungkwan by your side.

vernon chwe 💌

you’re panting when you bust into the shop, having had run all the way from your apartment to the vinyl store when hansol had sent you the text.

“where is it?”

hansol laughs as he takes in your wheezing figure. “i told you i put it aside for you, you didn’t have to run all the way here,” he shakes his head, ducking under the counter to retrieve the vinyl you’ve only wanted for the last six years.

“she’s real,” you gape at paramore’s ain’t it fun ‘half’ vinyl in awe, taking it from hansol for a closer look.

“this one’s on the house,” he says, and your head snaps up.

“no way, your boss will fire you,” you shake your head. “i can pay for it.”

“but i don’t want you to,” hansol refuses. “there’s a reason i haven’t let you pay full price for any of the vinyls you’ve bought. you’ve got to know by now.”

you do know. you’ve never missed the longing glances from hansol, not when you’ve been looking at him that way too.

“how about a kiss in exchange for it then?” you ask, leaning over the counter to get closer to the man standing behind it.

“just one?” hansol grins. “you’ve got a lot of vinyls to make up for, y’know?”

lee chan 💌

lately, you’ve been visiting the pool more often just to get a glimpse of lee chan, the cute lifeguard. you know it’s borderline-illegal of you to be taking pictures of him, but you can’t help that the sun hits his broad shoulders, perfect hair, and bright smile just the right way.

but you knew you were bound to get caught some day.

“hey,” you look up to see chan standing in front of you. for a moment, you think you’ve been caught, but then he smiles and asks, “can i borrow your phone to ring mine? i can’t find it.”

“s-sure!” you nod eagerly, handing your phone over. only when chan is already scrolling through your phone, you realize that your secret pictures are out for him to see.

you look at chan, who grins at you knowingly, and you blush violently. “look, if you saw the- uh, pictures, i’m so sorry. i’ll delete them right away-”

“i don’t mind a pretty girl taking pictures of me,” chan cuts your rambling off. and then, his phone starts ringing in his pocket.

“oops!” he giggles. “guess my phone was here all along. you don’t mind that i put my number in yours anyway, right?”

before you can respond, he’s winking and returning to his station, smiling at the text, containing the promise of a date, you’ve already sent him.

vote for your favorite what is and the cupid of valentine's present will give you a little sneak peek into their past or future together!

major thanks to kae, a, ally, and serena for your contributions! i wouldn't have been motivated to finish if it wasn't for you guys hehe <3

kae and serena, thanks for enabling every silly little idea that crops up! you guys are the real ones fr 🤞🤞

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postracehair · 1 day ago

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fracture

max verstappen x reader | 3.5k

max breaks his wrist during the first week of the off-season.

cw: max breaks his arm, r is a bit rattled, some blood, a naked shower, intimacy, mentions of sex

a/n: c'mon. you know he'd be so annoying. good thing we love him. [i wrote this before the season ended and then...never posted it. so, here, have it before we start all this shit over again in a few weeks.]

You are not there when it happens.

You're asleep, actually, curled up on Max's couch with the cats while he enjoys the first week of the off-season. The celebrations have ended and there is a great deal of work to be done in the next few months, but everyone gets a little bit of respite.

Vacation will come after the holidays. That's the plan, anyway. The last few days have seen you in Monaco, mostly inside Max's place. Just spending time together, relaxing, watching movies, rumpling his sheets. Today, though, he and Danny decided to go on a world-class-athlete-level bike ride.

Which is why you're on the couch. They've been gone all day and you don't expect Max to get home until later. You ran errands, cleaned a little, and then took an afternoon nap.

As you rouse from it, you fumble for your phone to check the time. The screen lights up and you're greeted with --

35 texts. 4 missed calls.

"What the hell?" you mutter, sitting up and opening everything.

DR: sorry for the three calls don't freak out but i think max broke his arm

DR: he says you're probably napping but i'm going to document this for when you wake up

DR: he's fine but yeah that shit is fucked

DR: he says not to tell you he fell off his bike but he fell off his bike

DR: he braked for some animal in the road and went over his handlebars

DR: oh he also scraped his face but he's still pretty, don't worry

DR: his palms are fucked though which is why he's not texting you

DR: we're on the way to the hospital, btw

DR: you're gonna be so pissed when you wake up

It goes on like that. Daniel, to his credit, has given you a play-by-play of the whole situation. You've only been asleep for about an hour and based on the time stamps this started right after you fell asleep.

You get up as you read, grabbing your things and trying to find your shoes as you read. You need to -- you need to go and be wherever they are. You need to help. Heart racing, chest tight, you need to be near Max as soon as possible, even though Danny said he's okay. If this was you, Max would already be there. God, why did you take a nap?

According to the texts, they got to the hospital and he was seen immedietly, x-rayed, and bandaged up. Broken right wrist, Danny had said. He's pissed more than anything.

You're about to call him back when your phone rings in your hands.

"Danny," you say as soon as you accept it.

"Oh, thank fuck," Daniel exclaims. "I thought I was going to have to surprise you in person with the whole thing."

"I'm about to leave, just give me 15 minutes to get there--"

"No, no, no," he interrupts you. "He just got discharged. I'm bringing him home."

You stop in your tracks, one foot shoved halfway into your sneaker. "Really?"

"Yeah, we'll be there in like, 20 minutes?" You can hear Max saying something in the background. "He wants to talk to you," Danny sighs. "Mate, you'll see her soon--"

He's cut off and there's some muffled noises and then Max is saying your name.

"I'm fine," he says. "I only made him tell you so it wasn't a surprise when I came home."

"Max," you sigh, shoulders creeping away from your ears at the sound of his voice. "I'm so sorry, I was asleep!"

He laughs. You feel a bit weepy, which is both an overreaction and cathartic. "Good," he says. "The whole experience has been a pain in the ass."

"You're coming home now? Are you in pain?"

"Eh," he says, dragging out the sound. "They gave me something while they set it so I don't feel it much. Daniel says we'll be home soon. Oh, hold on --" There is some muttering, Danny's voice in the background. "Okay, I'm going to give you back. See you soon, liefje."

"Okay," you say softly.

"Be there in a flash!" Danny says brightly. "Seriously, don't worry."

You hang up and just stand in the hallway, at a loss. Something bad happened to Max and you weren't there. It feels wrong. Not that he's in poor hands with Danny -- quite the opposite. He's probably the only person aside from yourself that you'd want there for Max in a crisis. But, god. You wish you had been there.

The cats weave around your ankles as you pace, waiting for Danny to call or for the door to open or, anything at all to happen. Your mind is running a million miles a minute. Objectively, it's the best time for Max to break something. There isn't even a car for him to test right now and he had at least another week of time off before needing to go back to Milton Keynes. This might throw a wrench in your holiday plans but you couldn't care less about that. How long will he be in a cast? You assume he's in a cast. What kind of help will he need? Will you be enough to provide it? What if he --

Noises in the hall make you freeze and then you hear Danny's voice. You bolt to the door, unlatching the locks and pulling it open. You're greeted with the sight of the two of them -- Danny looking down at Max's keys in his hands, both of their backpacks on his back. They've both changed out of whatever ridiculous bike outfit they must have been wearing for the ride, but you devote your attention to your boyfriend.

You can see the bandages on Max's knees and forearms where he must have scraped himself up on the road. His wrist -- it's in a black cast that runs the length of his forearm. He cradles it to his chest in a sling they must have given him and then you make your way to his face. A few scratches along one cheek, hair a mess, mouth drawn into a frown. A frown that relaxes slightly when you meet his gaze. Your eyes well with tears.

"Max," you breathe. He steps in front of Danny and meets you in the doorway, his cast-free hand cupping your face through the bandages on his palm.

"I'm fine," he says. "You're looking at me like I'm in a coma."

"Sorry," you whisper. "I just --"

He tugs you to him gently, pressing your face into his neck and rubbing your back. You try to be careful of his arm as you breathe deep and will yourself not to actually lose it.

"Guys, can we at least go inside?" Danny asks.

Max huffs and you pull away. He drags his thumb under both of your eyes but doesn't comment on the dampness he finds there. "Inside, liefje."

Danny drops Max's stuff and passes along the documents from the hospital. He's quite the personality but he's all business when he needs to be. "Pain killers in his bag. Call me if you need anything, guys."

You step away from Max long enough to throw your arms around Danny. "Thank you," you whisper. "For looking after him." For calling. For bringing him back to me. For doing what I should have been there for.

He chuckles. "Alright," he says. "Max should break something more often."

Once Danny leaves, it's just the two of you. Max has settled on the couch, head leaning back into the cushions.

"Come sit with me," Max calls. "God, I forgot how much I hate hospitals."

His eyes are closed and he holds his arm gingerly. It's not the first time you've seen him injured -- you've been at his side in the medical tent before after watching him careen into a wall at 190mph. And yet, right now, you're still so upset.

You settle into the cushions on his left side and just watch him.

"I'm sorry," you say again. Max's eyes open. "I can't believe I was asleep when Danny called."

Max shakes his head. "What would you have done?"

"I could have come to get you and take you to the hospital, or just met you there, or--"

He puts his hand on your knee. "Come on," he says. "Don't be silly."

How do you explain it to him? How do you tell him that something happening to him feels like it happened to you? That not being there feels like a personal failing?

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He sighs and you pull his palm from your leg to hold it in your hands.

"It's stupid," he grimaces. "You don't need the details."

"Max."

He folds. Other people in his life have called this your superpower -- Max's will is iron clad. It is very difficult to get him to do something he does not want to do. But one word from you, one soft look, one gentle touch, and he often relents. It's like you can peel back that layer of him that has hardened out of necessity. To protect himself and his heart, to make sure he's taken seriously, to stop things from hurting.

It's like you remind him that it's okay to feel, even when it's hard.

"Daniel summed it up," he grumbles. "We were biking down a hill outside the city and something ran out into the road in front of me. I stopped. Or tried to, at least." He mimes squeezing the breaks, fingers curling in towards his bandaged palms. You stroke his unbroken wrist with your thumb.

"And you went over," you finish.

"And I went over. Got my knees, my forearms, my hands. My wrist, obviously. Just landed badly."

You reach for his face ever so gently, dragging the pad of your thumb over the shallow scrapes on his chin, his cheek. He allows it, knowing that you need to touch him to be sure he's okay. Whenever he has a crash on track you have trouble letting him out of your sight for hours. You just need to look at him, feel him warm and alive under your hands.

"I'm going to write a letter to your helmet manufacturer," you say, not entirely kidding. You slide your hand over his temple and into his hair. It's dirty, you can feel it, but you cradle his skull all the same. "Thank them."

He laughs once, amused with your sincerity. "I need to shower," he says. "But I can't get this wet." You finally direct your attention to his broken wrist, the entirety of his forearm and hand encased in the cast under the sling.

"Does it hurt?" you ask again. Max would tell anyone else off for badgering him so, but he keeps his face soft and reassures you.

"It's strange," he says. "I'm sure I'll feel it later."

"Did it hurt?" you whisper. "When you broke it?"

You know that Max has felt a great deal of pain in his life. His day job requires it -- physical, mental, emotional. He knows how to handle it and get over it. But he's also honest with you, always.

He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't nice," he confesses. "I knew right away."

You grimace. In the silence, you match your breaths to his and just sit together for a little while.

And then Max's stomach growls.

"Whoops," he says, grinning crookedly. Still an athlete, still a boy with a fast metabolism. You can't help but laugh.

"How about this," you begin, unfolding yourself from the couch and standing in front of him, hands on your hips. Max looks up at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen. "I order some food and then we get you showered while we wait for it. Let the scrapes breathe and keep your cast dry, then we eat and watch a movie and go to bed. Okay?"

"We get me showered?" He sounds skeptical.

"You think you can wash your hair on your own?"

He smirks. "I can do a lot with one hand."

You roll your eyes. "So you're turning down an opportunity to shower with me, is what I'm hearing."

Max gets himself off the couch and rests his palm on your hip. "No," he says softly. "I'm not that stupid."

He kisses you lightly and heads for the bathroom.

"I guess we can wrap it in a plastic bag, or something?" you call after him. It takes a few minutes of opening and closing cabinets for you to find one. You put in a delivery order and make your way to the bathroom. Max has already turned on the shower and you find him shirtless and peeling off his bandages in in front of the mirror.

"Let me do that." He doesn't put up much of a fight, not even wincing when the tape pull at his skin. You see the gashes on his forearm, the raw skin of his palms. "Arm, please." The plastic bag goes around his cast and you tie it at his elbow.

"You planning to wash my hair while wearing your clothes?" Max asks with a straight face.

You stare at him, trying to seem unimpressed. He breaks first, mouth pulling up at one corner before he shucks off his soft shorts and briefs in one go. He pecks you on the cheek and gets in the shower, still smirking at you through the glass door.

"Alright, alright," you mutter. "So dramatic."

You feel Max's eyes on you as you undress, leaving your clothes on a pile on the floor.

The shower is unnecessarily big but Max does not give you much space. The hot spray is at his back and he keeps his plastic bag-clad arm mostly out of the way.

"Feel good?" you ask. Max sighs but nods. You'll bet he's aching but hasn't admitted it. He turns to the side so you can catch some of the spray, too, fighting off the chill outside the warm water.

"I might fall asleep in here," he mutters.

"That'll be the painkillers, darling," you tell him. "C'mon, get your hair wet."

Max tips his head back. You readjust so that you can card your hands through it. You shampoo him gently, taking your time and massaging his scalp. It's a miracle he stays on his feet, but he does. You hum as you work and Max's breaths get deeper, slower.

"Head back," you say softly. He obeys. You do the same with some of your conditioner because you know he likes how it smells.

This shower feels more intimate than the countless hours you've spend in his bed, tangled up in one another. He's been inside you and yet this feels more vulnerable. He's totally ceding control, trusting you to take care of him. You're naked, slick bodies brushing, always touching whether it's your hands in his hair or Max's own fingers reaching for your skin just to feel.

One time, when you were sick, you couldn't muster the energy to take a shower. Max ran you a bath and washed your hair for you, talking all the while because you asked to hear his voice. It's obvious that you'd do the same for him, as you're doing now. It's just how you love each other -- all the way, all the time. When it's easy and when it's hard.

"Danny was right," Max says, words slurring half from bliss and half the fatigue of the day catching up to him. "I should break bones more often."

You finish rinsing him and just stand there in the spray for a few moments.

"Please, no," you groan, brushing wet strands back from his forehead. "If you want me to wash your hair I will, Max. You don't need to break anything."

His eyes flutter open and find yours. He smiles lazily and you turn off the shower.

"If you say so," he says. "Can we take this off, now?"

Bag removed, skin patted dry, comifes on. The food comes when you're settling Max on the couch with a pillow for his arm. In all likelihood he'll manage a few bites of take out and fall asleep 15 minutes into the movie. But he needs the rest, you think. And besides, he'll have you to watch over him.

It becomes clear remarkably quickly that Max is an awful patient. You sort of knew this -- he's been sick a few times when you're around, but you figured that was just man-disease. Whining, refusing to sit still. This is 10x worse. He won't let you do anything for him until he's proven that he can't do it himself. You consider locking him in your bedroom to keep him from trying to do things he shouldn't do.

Max just wasn't made to sit still.

But you can empathize -- it's frustrating to not be able to do any of the things he really likes to do. Drive, use his sim, even play regular video games. It's a lot of movies and long walks and leg days with his trainer.

And then there's the way he just won't ask for help. That's a Max Verstappen original and you know it gets worse when he's frustrated. You do it too -- everyone does. But Max wants to do everything himself, wants to prove that he can.

You try to sit back and let him work it out. About a week after he comes home with his arm in a cast, he calls your name. You're in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge and wondering if you should order more groceries or just go to the shops yourself.

"You okay?" you call back. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom,"he shouts.

Ah, you think. Here we go.

He hasn't shaved yet. You've always loved when he keeps his facial hair a little longer. You love the feel of it on your skin and how it lightens along with his hair when you're on holiday somewhere nice. It's more likely that he keep it long in the off-season. Hot races are a nightmare with a beard, he's said. It itches like mad.

"Coming," you call.

Sure enough, you find him in front of the sink, razor in hand and frown firmly in place. He makes eye contact with you in the mirror and even though you can feel his annoyance from here, the set of his jaw softens.

"Do you think you could help me shave?" he asks. No lead up, no hem and haw.

"Of course, Max."

You quickly work out that sitting on the counter next to the sink while he stands between your knees works best. His broken wrist hangs at his side, the other hand resting on the counter next to your leg.

You lather him up, carefully applying the white foam of his shaving cream on his cheeks, his chin, his neck. He's got a fancy razor, one that will probably make it hard to cut him. Still, you feel the way he's basically handed you a blade and asked you to use it on him. In so many ways it's one of the most intimate things you've ever done. Even more than the showers you've had this week, just chatting and washing his hair.

"I'll be careful," you say softly.

"I know." He tilts his chin up, showing you his neck. "Go on, then."

It's quiet work. You're focusing hard and Max seems content to allow you. Stroke after stroke, rinsing the razor in the sink. You keep one hand at the base of this throat as the other works, gliding it over his skin. Cheeks, jaw, upper lip. Chin, neck.

"I like your beard, you know," you say when you're almost done. He waits until you're rinsing the razor again to reply.

"I do," he says, smirking. "You aren't quiet about it."

The last patch comes off as easily as the rest and you grab a damp towel to clean the rest of the shaving cream. Max appears to have relaxed enough to become pliant, leaning into your touch as you finish. He lets you rub moisturizer into his cheeks, eyes fluttering closed. His hand ends up on your leg, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh.

"Cheeky," you mutter. He smiles, boyish and easy. You take your time, pleased that he's letting you, but also because you could touch him forever. "Schatje," you whisper, trying to make it sound like it does from his lips. "All done."

Max doesn't move. You frame his face with your hands and lean in until your lips touch. You feel his smile against yours, but he dutifully tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His freshly shaved skin is so soft. You've kissed thousands of times by now, but you can never get enough of him. The way he responds to your every move, meeting your pressure with some of his own. Your tongue with his, swallowing your moans and giving you his own like a gift.

It's Max who pulls away, dragging his lips over your cheek.

"Dankje," he whispers. It means more than that, you know. From Max, it means thank you for dealing with me, for taking care of me, for loving me.

He doesn't think any of that is easy for you. But he's wrong. It's the easiest thing in the world.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #mv33 x reader #mv33 #f1 fanfic #my writing #fic: fracture

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ldydeath · 2 days ago

Text

Don’t Look Back | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Jiyong is stressed on tour and says something he can’t take back

Warnings: mild language

Author’s Note: Hi guys! This is a part one of a two part collab fic. My best friend, the lovely and talented @wcnderlnds wrote part two, go check out her post to see how it ends!

PART TWO HERE

Everything was too much. You knew that, Jiyong knew that, but you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t protect him. He should’ve never taken on this tour so close to his enlistment. You knew he wanted to do this one last thing for his fans, something to remember him by. But the stress was about to swallow him whole and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You glanced down at your buzzing phone and sighed.

Jiyong’s face appeared on the screen, you knew he was calling because you weren’t in Japan yet. You were two hours away by flight and the show was still hours away, but you’d promised you’d be there. You answered the call, his voice filling the line before you could even say hello.

“Are you coming to the show tonight?” Jiyong’s voice whined through the phone and you let out a sigh, your hand rubbing your temples.

You had hours of work to finish in order to get to the airport and you weren’t sure you were going to make it. The tour was nearing the end and you’d promised you’d be there for the last leg. Japan, the Europe dates, and the final night in Taiwan but work wasn’t letting you get away easy.

“I’m going to be getting in right as the show starts at this rate.” You sighed before slamming your hands down on your keyboard.

“You’re still at work?” You could hear the disappointment in his voice and slowed your typing. “I just have to finish some things before I’m gone for three weeks.” He let out a sigh and you chewed on your bottom lip, waiting for him to tell you not to come.

“Okay, I’ll let you go. I miss you.” the phone went dead before you could reply.

You slammed your phone down in frustration, trying your best to clear your thoughts so you could at least get to the airport in time to not miss your flight. You missed him too, you hated being apart for as long as you had been.

At least he hadn’t told you to not bother, that was a step in the right direction, unlike his dates in North America. An ongoing theme throughout this tour was his back and forth on wanting you there. You knew he was going through a lot, but it didn’t excuse his behavior towards you.

Deciding they could finish the rest without you, you left, making it to your plane just before doors closed and sat down in your first class seat. Of course he had gotten you the best seat money could afford. As you were getting situated, your phone buzzed and you stilled, almost afraid that it was work calling you back. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you saw who it was from. That sigh turned to a groan when you read his words. .

If you can’t make it, just stay home. I’ll be back before I head to Europe and we can just fly out together.

You didn’t know why he was pushing you away so much, you knew how lonely he’d been all tour. At least you’d be there in time for the show to start, you could hang out and see Japan after. He was there for a couple days anyway and you’d already made plans to sight see before you headed home.

I’m on my way. Plane taxiing now. See you soon. You hastily replied back before shutting off your phone and sliding your eye mask over your face.

You had just enough time to catch a nap before you’d be whisked off to the show. In true Jiyong fashion he’d had a car sent for you once he’d realized he couldn’t pick you up himself. You turned your phone back on once you were in the car to see several missed calls and texts from Jiyong, Daesung, and his management team.

Well, that wasn’t good. You ignored everyone else blowing up your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number. Straight to voicemail. He was probably just getting into costume for the show. That was all. Everything was fine. It didn’t stop your heart from racing, the nerves settling in the closer you got to the stadium.

One of Jiyong’s managers met you outside and led you backstage. It wasn’t hard to find Jiyong, he was standing by his entrance spot, his shiny jacket sparkling in the lights, your nerves settled as you saw him.

“Hey” You grinned, that grin faltering as soon as your eyes met his.

He looked exhausted. When was the last time he’d slept? Or eaten? He was so thin. You should’ve been here sooner, you could’ve forced him into a bed with a bowl of soup and not let him get up for a few days. You hadn’t seen him this bad off since that night he’d fainted over a year ago. Your heart dropped into your stomach and you reached for him, wanting to beg him to cancel the show. You knew he wouldn’t though and he smiled at you before turning away, your arms falling pathetically to your sides.

You hesitated before following his crew to the side stage, your favorite spot to watch Jiyong. It always amazed you how quickly he could transform from the exhausted man you saw a few minutes ago to the king of the stage. His fans were none the wiser to how he was truly feeling as he used up every ounce of energy he had on that stage. But you knew, and you caught every stumble, every large inhale, how many times he looked up towards the ceiling.

Once the show was over Jiyong headed over towards you, grabbed your hand and led you towards his sitting room. He looked up, eying the team of people following behind the two of you closely and shook his head before leading you inside and closing the door on them. He took one swift step towards you before his lips were on yours, his arms winding around you tightly. You could almost feel the weight of the day falling off him as you kissed him back.

This is what he needed, after all the long days and sleepless nights. You. He knew he was being needy and a bit all over the place with his emotions but now that you were finally here he was going to do everything in his power to make it up to you.

“Jiyong” You whispered as you broke the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest as you looked into his tired eyes. “Come on, let's get you changed and get some dinner. I’m putting your ass in bed tonight.”

The annoyance that crossed his face was alarming, he’d always appreciated you being the one looking out for him. He’d been off all day though, you reminded yourself as you stepped around him, moving to collect his hoodie. He took it from you wordlessly, stripping out of his sparkly red suit jacket and sliding the hoodie over his head in one swift movement.

“I don’t want you to be here if you’re just going to baby me.” Your eyes widened as you looked over at him. Surely you’d heard him wrong.

“I’m not babying you, Jiyong. You’re clearly not sleeping and when was the last time you ate?” He glared at you, folding his arms across his chest.

“This morning. I’m fine.”

“That’s bullshit, Jiyong. You’re not fine.” You pulled out your phone, pulling up the various missed calls. “If you were fine you wouldn’t be crying out for help when I’m on an airplane. What’s going on with you?”

He glanced down, running his hand through his already messy hair and let out a sigh. “You were supposed to be here for this, not come at the end and start worrying about me.” He glanced up, all the pain you thought maybe you’d imagined was visible on his face. “I needed you here.”

“I had to work!” it was a lame excuse and you knew it but it was all you had. They wouldn’t just let you take months off work to let you follow Jiyong around the world.

“I told you I’d take care of you. What do you think that fucking ring meant? You don’t have to work.” His icey tone caused you to flinch, he’d never been this angry with you before. You glance down at your ring, absentmindedly twisting it on your finger.

“We talked about this, Jiyong. I’m not going to quit my job and sit at home worried about you for the next two years. After the wedding, we agreed to revisit that topic. Don’t throw it back in my face now. I’m here. I’ve been here for you every night regardless of the distance.”

You two had had your share of fights before, but this felt different. Like you were both toeing a dangerous ledge and if you weren’t careful someone was going to get hurt. You held his gaze daring him to say something. Anything.

“Maybe it’s not good enough.” Your eyes widened in shock, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

He didn’t mean that. You knew he didn’t mean that, but all rational thoughts had seemed to exit your brain as his words cut you so deeply. All you wanted to do was hurt him back.

“Not good enough? Being awake at three in the morning when I have a meeting at seven to make sure you’re ok, that you’ve eaten, isn’t good enough? Hopping on a flight to be here with you wasn’t good enough? I have supported you through everything, Jiyong. I have loved you through all of it. If that’s not good enough then I don’t think anything will be. Maybe you should take this back, if I’m no longer good enough.” Your voice cracked and you willed yourself not to cry, he wasn’t going to see your tears today.

You slid the ring off your finger, holding it out for him. He blinked, looking down at the ring. This isn’t what he wanted, he had always wanted you. He’d be damned if he broke in front of you right now, though. If you were just going to give up on him because of one bad day, then fine. He moved over to you, snatching the ring out of your hand and slid it onto his pinky.

You shook your head, moving towards the door. “If you walk out that door don’t come back.” His sharp voice broke the silence in the room and without looking at him, you opened the door, walked out and slammed it behind you. He closed his eyes, letting out a long exhale. He’d really fucked this up, hadn’t he?

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

#kwon jiyong x reader #g dragon x reader #kwon ji yong x reader #gdragon x reader #bigbang x reader #g dragon #kwon jiyong #my fics #divider by cafekitsune #dlb

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unholyhelbig · 3 days ago

Note

Can we please please PLEASE have part two of Brackish?

Title: Brackish [Part Two] | Read Part One Here

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Word Count: 3454

Warnings: Mentions of torture, mentions of mind control, mentions of ice baths, cannon typical violence, nightmares, physical testing, murder, KGB conditioning, Horrible grammar I don't proofread!

Summary: Agent Romanoff is sent into an interrogation room to break the only prisoner they pull from a Hydra compound, but things don't go exactly as planned.

[A/n: Totally wasn't expecting the response the first part got, thank you so much! Truthfully this ask and the draft was sitting in my inbox for months. This is just a bunch of fluff. I don't know where to take it from here. Hopefully you enjoy!]

You’d woken up screaming, something that never bothered Daniel Whitehall. There were stretching corridors that were damp from broken pipes and water buildup. It smelled thickly of metal and never offered any kind of warmth. It carried your agony like a music box, or a greeting card. It had amused him- his men. So, you did your best to swallow your distress. But sometimes it was impossible to tamp things down in the bridge between sleep and alertness.

It had been three days and you still expected to be jerked back into the reality. A frigid tub of ice and metal under Whitehall’s hand. You must have lost your grip on reality and the Avengers Tower, Agent Romanoff and her rigid kindness, was all a mental tactic, to account for the trauma. You’d finally been broken.

But no: Right now, as you woke up screaming as the hours rolled into the fourth day, she was there. The bed was too soft. You’d learned, and sleep did not come easy. But you drifted off in spurts and woke with air caught in your throat. Never yelling. Never in such a panic.

You didn’t remember what had startled you, but there was a cool hand against your cheek and another one splayed against your chest and worried green eyes peering into yours. You moved to fight back, wanted to push the limbs away until you realized who they belonged to. Until you breathed in that polished scent.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over her wrists.

She was a busy woman. You’d realized that over the past 72 hours. Agent Romanoff was in high demand, her signature was required on countless documents and many with downturned eyes stalked up to her with a nervousness that you didn’t quite understand but, you were beginning to.

After some persistent pushing from Natasha on the second day, you’d agreed to blood tests, to EKG’s and other medical trials to make sure you were relatively healthy after years of captivity. She’d promised to stay, and she did. While a certain heat and embarrassment colored your cheeks at the unspoken request, she saved your dignity that morning by not brining it up.

Natasha frowned, didn’t say anything but applied a short pressure to your jaw with her thumb before guiding a glass of water to your hand as she lowered herself to the bed. “Sip this, all of it until it’s gone. Don’t gulp, it’ll hurt your stomach.”

You nodded, doing as you were told. She watched you carefully until you finished the glass. You wanted to cower under her scrutiny, but your heartrate had slowed by the time you’d drained the water and she’d taken it the moment it was empty, her hand on your knee as a grounding source. She was like that, you’d learned, attentive and able to read what you needed though you’d not found your voice to ask.

There wasn’t a clock in the guest room. You didn’t know what time it was, but no morning light seeped through the crack in the door and sleep still clung to you like a heavy blanket. You let out a deep breath and pressed your head against the wall behind you, tempted to let your eyes droop shut, but stopped from the fear of another scream ripping through you.

“The nightmares won’t go away. They’ll come less and less, but they’ll always be there.” She swallowed audibly, ran her fingers over a raised pink scar from a blade, or a bullet, or some type of metal that could easily tear skin against her exposed muscle. “What you went through isn’t easily forgotten. You can manage the symptoms, push it to the back of your mind during your waking hours but it’s hard to fight that kind of thing when you’re asleep. You’re guard can’t always be up.”

You nodded, working your hand through your damp hair. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“You didn’t” Natasha assured “Would you like me to stay?”

More than anything. It felt like crossing a line. There wasn’t a chair in the guest room. It was fairly sparce. A bed and a nightstand and lamp that had bathed you both in a soft golden glow. It would be easier to tell her no, to ask her to leave. But your chest wouldn’t forgive you for that.

So, you scooted over, looked at her expectantly, going as far to peel back the duvet. Natasha huffed out something akin to a laugh and laid in the spot that you had just vacated. You could feel the heat of her skin, the closeness of her as you lowered yourself down next to her. She paid you a mercy by turning the lamp off.

The two of you lay, shoulder to shoulder, breath synchronized. You couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t. Your entire body was wound up. While Agent Romanoff’s presence was a balm, it also wound you up like a spring. You were conscious of every movement. Every twitch of your finger and tense of a muscle.

“It scares me that I can’t remember things.”

You could hear Natasha turn her head in the dark, the shift against the pillow. Her breath was warm against the side of your face. Your fingers curled against the fabric of your shirt, a stone on the center of your chest. You couldn’t remember feeling this comfortable- this at ease- in a long time.

“Do things come back when you sleep?”

It was her job, you knew, to pull things from you. In exchange for a bed and warm meal, you’d give her anything. She had quiet eyes and a quietness to her that gave away the fact that she was examining you methodically. But there was something else there that you couldn’t pinpoint. Something caring.

You turned onto your side, facing her, curling up more for your own comfort. “More of a feeling than a memory. Being there, I recall everything. Whitehall, his brainwashing, his tests and his tortures. His why’s and his motives are foggy. It was like he just wanted to inflict pain. But at his core. At Hydra’s core, I know that’s not true.”

Natasha adjusted on the bed, turned to face you. Inches apart. Her nose was close enough in the dark to bump against your own. Neither of you spoke for a moment, hands brushing closely like a bridge uncrossed.

“I worry that they changed me in way’s that can’t be unchanged, but can’t recall who I was before they’ve changed me. That they kept me alive because they were… succeeding in something that they hadn’t before.” You let out a heavy breath, it splayed hotly against Natasha’s chest, warmed her. “That deep down inside, something uncontrollable is there.”

Natasha made a small noise in the back of her throat that could only be described as a whimper. Tentatively, she’d shifted in the quiet, had found the edge of your jaw in the darkness and traced the sharpness of it with her touch. You let your eyes flutter shut, leaned into it.

Soon, her palm was against your cheek, warm from the prospect of sleep. Her hold soft as she pulled you forward, the initial shock of the swift movement replaced by that detergent scent and the instant comfort. An undignified grunt escaped you when you slotted so perfectly against Natasha’s front.

You’d learned rather quickly that she liked to show her protection.

When your blood had been drawn, the tech on the medical floor insisted of her credentials but quickly blanched with a glare from the Black Widow herself and the assured hand at the base of your spine. You’d shown your strength during the physical trials as they monitored your heartrate during a mile run, and Natasha had watched with a warning stare as another tech adjusted the censors.

And now, she wrapped her arms around your center and hooked her leg over your own. She was tense until she felt the coolness of your nose against her pulse point, the way you nuzzled against her, sighed into her comfort instead of tensed, as if she feared of rejection.

“We’ll figure it out.” Her voice was a rumble, your ear this close to her chest. “Get some sleep. I’ve got you.”

There was a sensor under your collarbone, one on either side of your chest, and another directly under your ribs. Two more that had been stuck to your abdomen. The adhesive was unbearably itchy, and you had half the mind to tear them away. A huff pulled uncomfortably at you. Another huff earned you a sharp glare from the woman wrapping your hands.

Natasha was on her knees for you. Not for you, but certainly in front of you. Either way it made you blush profusely. She worked with intention, making sure that the next trial they were putting you through was safe enough for you to participate in. A tech had offered to do this for her. For you. But she’d refused.

“Stop pouting, sweetheart. This is the last one and then they’ll leave you alone for at least the weekend.”

“Promise?”

Natasha sighed and her exhale was hot against the skin on your chest, forming a valley of goosebumps. You swallowed back a shiver. “No. Now sit back.”

You did as you were told, all the while, another SHIELD tech kept a keen eye on the both of you. Nameless, faceless, dressed in black. You almost preferred them this way. Whitehall was a constant for you, a villain that always signified a form of hurt and anguish. The constant revolving door of men and women made it impossible to link a test with a face.

Natasha was almost the opposite. You were starting to associate that piney, vanilla bergamot scent of hers with safety. It scared you. Her hands were assured and so were her movements. You were very aware that she had been with you nearly all hours of the day since you’d been pulled from the wreckage of all you’d known for possible years. Stockholm syndrome, some would call it.

You approached it with reckless abandon. You didn’t care. She was warmth. She was opposite of ice baths and frigid water that you choked on until you blacked out. She was lean muscle and healed scars and tender green eyes. She made it easier to think. She gave orders that were easy to follow: To sit back. To Stop Pouting. To Get some Sleep. You could do those things. Those things were easy.

“We’ll start at a weight of fifty and steadily increase until you cannot support the bar any further.” The nameless, dark-eyed man said, not looking up from his tablet. ��If at any point, you feel uncomfortable during the test, please alert me or Agent Romanoff. Do you have any questions?”

You shook your head, laid back on the cool bench and adjusted yourself until you stared up at the metal ceiling. It looked taller from this angle, impossible to reach. Black weights were saddled on either side. Agent Romanoff’s presence was at your six the entire time. Lingering, watching with careful and apt attention.

“Alright. You may begin. Make sure not to lock your arms.”

The bar was nothing in your hands, a slight nuisance, if anything. Ever-so-slowly the weight was increased: Fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty. All the way to 700 before another huff left your lungs, chin tipping towards Natasha as you stared up at her. Pouting. You were absolutely pouting.

They were being methodical about this, and that also meant it was taking ages. One of Natasha’s brows was quirked and she worried the nail of her thumb between her teeth as they upped the weight to a solid 1,000. You adjusted your hold on the bar. Nothing more, nothing less. There was no strain, no sweat. No spike in heartrate.

“Okay. I think we know enough.” Natasha finally barked. “Right?”

“But I-“

“Right?”

Sure, it had only been a few days, but you knew that tone and it was enough for the SHIELD agent to snap his jaw shut and for you to replace the bar before sitting back up. The test, you were sure, was far from over. But there was such a finality in the demand.

You knew you had some strength to you, sure. Daniel Whitehall wouldn’t keep you locked up the way he did, in a steel-enforced cell, if that weren’t the case. The binds you’d sometimes recall were much too thick for anyone that had the normal stamina, someone who could survive his trials. You don’t remember being tested like this before, your limits pushed.

The SHIELD agent tapped at his screen, letting out a non-committal noise “Well, your strength is remarkable. You say you don’t remember a thing? I think you could benefit from some memory recovery sensory therapy.”

Natasha rumbled in the back of her throat, snatching the tablet from the man before shoving him roughly from the room. You watched the display with raised brows, the protective edge to her that you knew was there, but hadn’t been privy to at this degree. He protested, but didn’t’ overtly stop her. Not even when she slammed and locked the door with the waggle of her fingers and the lowering of the blinds.

“The know at all’s from logistics get on my nerves.”

She wouldn’t look at you, instead clicking off the screen and throwing the tablet onto the counter. There was a light blush to her cheeks. You peeled off your shirt, almost in habit now, leaving you in nothing but one of the agencies issued sports bras. The adhesive was getting too irritating.

Your eyes lingered on her. “Uh-huh, is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

But when those deep green eyes snapped up to yours, the way her breath hitched betrayed her. You’d effectively flustered the Black Widow herself and it brought a sort of heady confidence to you that you quite enjoyed. You ripped the sensor from below your ribcage away, the stickiness making an odd noise as it pulled away.

“I don’t know what you’re smirking about, what he was suggesting is out of the question. They’ve run enough tests on you to determine that Hydra didn’t place any type of chip in your brain. They didn’t change your bone density or alter your blood chemistry. With your added strength, your speed.” She closed the distance between you, ripping another sensor off with little abandon, her hands cold against your skin. “We’re looking at an infinity stone.”

You grunted under her touch, fingers soothing over the spot she’d just torn, a silent apology. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Wanda Maximoff, do you know her?”

You shook your head, remaining still as she moved to the next sensor. Agent Romanoff pulled with the same quickness as before, but was softer with her hands, instantly using the coolness of her palm to quiet the sting that soon followed. You’d given up peeling them away yourself. Instead, you peered up with her with watery eyes, blinking and doe-like. They’d melt her if you weren’t careful, and it seemed like you never were.

“Hydra conducted experiments on Wanda and her twin brother Pietro using something called the Mind Stone. A very powerful mineral that ultimately should have killed them, but it didn’t. It changed their DNA and gave them abilities. Pietro super-speed and Wanda the ability to manipulate the world around her.” Natasha’s voice was smooth as she spoke, the final sensor ripped away, you watched her do it, frowning at the red mark it left behind.

After a few moments of labored silence, she dragged her touch feather-light against your jaw and guided your attention back to her own. “They think Whitehall got ahold of the power stone, and they think it was used to torture you for years to replicate the success achieved with the Maximoff’s.”

“I don’t think he was very successful,”

Natasha’s grip tightened on your chin, not enough to wound, never enough, but a soft warning. “Nonsense. You’re more capable than you think.” Her thumb ran over the blush that was suddenly running across the bridge of your nose and your cheek. “Let’s take a break from all these boring trials. I want to show you something.”

There was a basement that resided below the cacophony of spruced up cells in the Avengers tower. You’d stood shoulder to shoulder with Agent Romanoff and watched as the numbers descended. Her scent had soothed you, even as the cold infiltrated the elevator and reminded you too much of a metal tub, safe for the water.

It jolted to a stop before the anxiety swirling in your lower belly could solidify. Natasha led you into another corridor that looked like all the other corridor’s in the tower. She walked with no urgency and you followed with the same pace. Finally, you reached another non-descript door, only accessed by the card on Agent Romanoff’s belt.

You were hit by the sharp scent of decaying paper, quiet leather and dust. There was a coolness here. A dull light that Natasha flicked on. A heaviness that reminded you of a library. There was a history here that told you it hadn’t been accessed in a long time.

Copy boxes lined bookshelves bracketed to the walls, a single table with a few chairs sat pushed in the corner. Natasha seemed to know exactly where she was going, exactly the files she was looking for. “We’re a multi-trillion-dollar organization, yet, all of the incriminating evidence about the Avengers exists in this singular room.”

You flinched, eyes meeting Natasha after she hauled the off-white box to the center of the table. You watched her carefully, not moving from your rooted spot at the edge of the doorway. You blinked at her, mouth slightly agape. She was trusting you with this. She was trusting you with this?

“Natasha you can’t… you don’t have to…”

“I want to. Come, sit.”

The chair was frigid against your skin, the whole room kept tepid to preserve the documents. Natasha sat adjacent to you, your knees brushing in a surge of warmth. Neither of you moved to pull away. She pushed the box to the far end and pulled out the first file, edging her fingers against the manila.

Before she could pry the cover back, you gripped her hand, squeezed it with fervor. “Wait, you can’t do this. Agent Romanoff, if you… if you tell me this, and I’m- if Whitehall did something that fundamentally changed me and I turn around and betray you, then I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“Mm” She hummed, frowning down at the file. “There’s more to you than that.”

“And if there’s not? I don’t even have a name, and you’re about to trust me with everything from your past, everything you’ve worked so hard to scrub. I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re not letting me do anything, darling. I didn’t scrub anything, I embraced it.”

Her other hand engulfed the one that had covered the one that had grasped her own. You hadn’t realized that you were squeezing so hard for purchase. Goosebumps covered your entire body, and you were trying not to tremble. It felt as if your bones were trying to claw their way from your skin. You ground your teeth together to keep them from clacking.

Natasha’s hand left yours for only a moment, peeling the cover of the file back, moving it in between the both of you. “I was born in Stalingrad Russia, indoctrinated into the Red Room by a man named General Dreykov. The Red Room was a program designed to create sleeper agents utilized by the KGB. Young girls were taken against their wills and molded into perfect killing machines.”

Your thumb moved over her knuckles, scarred from years of strain. She grasped back, grounding herself.

“For years, I was just that. Ruthless. Cruel. I spilled an impossible amount of blood because that’s what I was trained to do. It was a cycle. Wake up, kill, sleep. Wake up, kill, sleep. Sometimes they’d throw a little torture in there just to spice things up.”

You knit your eyebrows together, a small whimper escaping you.

“Tough room.” Natasha gave you a sad smile “milaya devochka, eventually, someone saw through the dripping ledger and what Dreykov had done. They saw me. That made a world of difference when the programming I had was all I’d ever known.”

You swallowed thickly, fingers tracing a raised pink scar at the edge of her palm. You let out a shaky breath. “And you… can be that person for me?”

“I’d like to be.”

[Dt: @ima-gi--na-tion, @l0nelyish, @taliiiaasteria, @ahintofchaos, @redhoodte]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Steve Rodgers #Tony Stark #Hydra reader #Natasha Romanoff x hydra reader #Marvel Fanfiction #Marvel #Reader insert #Natasha Romanoff x female Reader

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revelboo · 2 days ago

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I never thought of getting mini stuff for my transformers figures but now I know exactly what I’m looking for next time we head to the store lmao

I got these guys so far but I’m eyeing the other two cassetticons and a shockwave too… soon my decepticon situationship command will be complete

🤣 Decepticon Situationship Command- I love that. I’m just a dork and love tiny stuff and miniatures. It’s why I gravitate to the Blokees

Everything Is Alright Pt 138

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Huffing as you slide down against an inner wall of Soundwave’s cassette compartment, you hate when he just plops you in here without asking. Even if it is warm and you can hear and feel his internal systems humming around you, soothing you with the familiarity of him. Making you feel safe and loved. Almost against your will, your mind turns unerringly to the fact that tangled in you is that new spark you’d created with him. Still having trouble reconciling that you’re going to have not one, but two alien kids. And given how big their dads are? You’re afraid to ask how big they’re going to end up being. Legitimately concerned that your alien kids will be able to just pick you up like a toy. Might think you are a toy.

• Watching Starscream pick himself back up, denta bared and stained with energon, Megatron waits for the Seeker to smart off again. Knows he just can’t help himself. Wings flaring aggressively, Starscream opens his mouth and then frowns. Looking past him and Megatron turns, rumbling when Soundwave presses his servos against his cassette compartment. Where he’d tucked you. “What now?” He growls, even as worry jangles through him.

• Shuddering at the feel of your anxiety, Soundwave opens his cassette compartment and reaches in to gently lift you free. Worrying again and your emotions are so clear now, sinking into him to become his. “Little one?” He rumbles and you smile shakily, but he can feel the worry in you even if he can’t pin down what’s causing it. Feathering a servo against your cheek, his spark warms when you reach up a hand to lay on his servo. ‘How big are sparklings?’ You ask and he freezes. Realizing exactly why you’re concerned as his head lifts to look at Megatron and Starscream. And the seeker heads his way, hands outstretched in demand only to stop short with a hiss when Megatron casually snags him by a wing.

• “Let go.” Unable to struggle free of the big brute’s grip without damaging his wing, Starscream glowers up at Megatron. It’s not like he expects anything better from him, but he hates that you’re looking to Soundwave. Asking the communications officer these things not him. You’re his. Had been his first and should look to him. Not Soundwave or Megatron. Him. Baring his denta, he goes staggering when Megatron finally releases him and offers you his hands. And you hesitate. Look from him to Soundwave and back and it hurts. Makes his spark ache when you finally come to him. Knows it’s the after effects of when he’d severed Soundwave’s partial bond. That you still don’t fully trust him anymore and it’s slowly killing him. Needs you to trust in him again, because you’re all he has. Loves you even if you’ve made his life an absolute nightmare.

• “Normal sparklings are quite small,” Starscream murmurs, curling his servos against you when Megatron makes a noise. “Well, by Cybertronian standards,” he adds with a sour look at Megatron. And you’re right back to your future alien kids being huge. Great. You’ve seen hyper toddlers before, there’s no way you’re going to survive being grabbed and handled by your own kids. And you’ll never be able to actually hold your own kids. That realization is all jagged edges sinking into you. Hurting more than you’d thought it would. Shoulders hunching, you’re aware of all three of them staring at you. At how ridiculous all of this is.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #starscream #megatron #soundwave

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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 days ago

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𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our Girl: Growing Up | 𝒮𝑜, 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃’, 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃’, 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝓎 𝑀𝑒

summary: leah and jordan are finally made aware of the extent of abuse monkey has suffered at the hands of mark

our girl: growing up masterlist

“Honestly, Mum. I don’t know what he was thinking,” Leah sat at the kitchen table, elbows resting on the surface as she rubbed her temples in frustration. Jordan and Amanda sat across from her, mirroring her serious expression, “You should have seen acting the way he was at the match. It’s no wonder that Monkey is so… terrified of him.”

Amanda’s expression darkened, “Did he really say that? In front of everyone?”

“Yeah, without a care in the world,” Leah sighed, nodding in agreement, “He just came up to us at the end– And he was loud enough for everyone else to hear!”

“You’re kidding?” Amanda’s voice was laced with disbelief.

Jordan let out a humourless laugh, “We’re not. It’s like that man has no shame now. Like, he doesn’t even try to hide it anymore, Amanda.”

Before either Leah or Amanda could respond, the shrill ring of Leah’s phone cut through the tense atmosphere. Instinctively, she reached for it, her stomach twisting as she saw the caller ID.

“Who is it?” Jordan asked, curiously as she noted the worried expression on her girlfriend’s face.

“It’s Monkey,” Leah murmured, an uneasy feeling creeping into her chest.

The three of them exchanged a look, dread settling between them like a heavy fog.

Leah quickly swiped to answer, pressing the phone to her ear, “Monkey?”

A trembling whisper came through the line, barely audible over shaky breaths, “L… Le! I need… I need your help. Please.”

“What’s wrong, my girl?” Leah shot up from her chair, her heartbeat hammering in her ears, “Where are you? I’m coming. I’m coming right now!”

“I… I need you, Le. Please. Help me,” Your voice cracked, choked with fear, “I… I’m scared, Le. I’m so– I… I don’t want him to hurt me. Not again.”

Leah’s grip on her phone tightened, “I’m coming, Monkey. I’m coming. Just… Just stay on the phone, yeah? Don’t hang up, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You shakily replied.

“Where’s my keys?” Leah frantically scanned the kitchen, “Where are they? I can’t see them anywhere! I need them. I need to get to Monkey. Now.”

“They’re right here, Bubba,” Amanda motioned to them, handing them over.

Jordan was already on her feet, “I’m coming with you.”

Amanda’s face had gone pale, “Be careful. And bring her home.”

Leah barely nodded, her phone still glued to her ear before she was out the front door and climbing into her car, her entire world narrowing to one singular thought.

Get to you. Now.

“Le, slow down,” Jordan warned, gripping the dashboard as Leah sped through the dark streets.

“I’m not stopping until we get to her,” Leah’s voice was razor-sharp, her knuckles turning white against the steering wheel.

Jordan exhaled a sigh, “Le, listen I know you’re worried, and so am I. But if you don’t slow down, you’re going to end up in a wreck before we even get to her.”

Leah barely registered Jordan’s words, her mind solely focused on you–on the terrified, broken voice that had been whispering through the speakerphone for the past five minutes.

“Please hurry, Le,” Your voice trembled, cracking under the weight of fear, “I’m… I’m scared. I don’t want him to hurt me again.”

Leah’s jaw was clenched, stomach twisting painfully as her grip on the wheel tightened, “We’re on our way, Monkey. Just… Just hang in there, alright? Stay on the phone with us. We’ll be there soon.”

“Le,” Your voice was small, almost childlike, “I’m… I’m really scared.”

“I know, my girl,” Leah exhaled sharply, forcing herself to keep her emotions in check, “I know you’re scared, but we’re coming. Just stay on the phone and talk to Jordy, yeah? Talk to Jordy for me.”

“Uh huh,” You mumbled hesitantly. After a moment, your voice wavered again, “Jordy?”

“Hi, little one, I’m here,” Jordan reassured you in a soothing tone of voice, her own voice being a steady contrast to Leah’s barely contained rage, “We’re right around the corner now. Just hold on for us, okay? You’re being so brave, Monkey.”

“I’m scared,” You whimpered in fear, “I… I don’t like this.”

Jordan swallowed a lump that formed in her throat, “I know, little one. But just a few more minutes, and you’ll be safe in the car with us, yeah?”

“Please hurry,” You sniffed, your breath shaky, “Please, I… I don’t want him to find me.”

Leah clenched her jaw so tightly it hurt. If she ever saw your father again–no, when she saw him again–she didn’t trust herself to hold back.

None of that was important right now. You were her priority. Getting you out of there was all that mattered.

“You’re near?” You asked.

“We’re round the corner, my girl,” Leah replied as she turned the corner.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

There you were.

Small. Shaking. Curled in on yourself near the edge of the pavement with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The loose-fitting football kit you were still wearing was drenched in the night air, clinging to your trembling frame. You looked so tiny–so scared.

Leah slammed on the brakes, barely shifting the car into park before she threw the door open and sprinted toward you, “Monkey!”

Your head snapped up at her voice, your breath hitching as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, “L… Le,” You whimpered.

Leah was on her knees in front of you in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. You collapsed into her, your body wracked with silent sobs as you buried your face in her shoulder.

“I’m here, my girl,” Leah murmured, her voice soft but unshakable, “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

You clutched at her jacket with trembling fingers, holding on as if she might disappear if you let go, “You… You came,” You choked out, “I thought… I thought he would find me. I thought he would hurt me again.”

Leah felt something deep inside her crack.

“Of course I am,” Leah whispered, pressing a firm kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll always be here when you need me. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, okay? I’ve got you.”

You peered up at her, searching her eyes, “You… You promise?”

Leah exhaled shakily, “I… I can’t promise, my girl. But I swear I will do everything in my power to keep you safe now. He won’t touch you again.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Your voice broke, “I don’t want to go back to that house. Please don’t take me back.”

Leah tightened her arms around you, her decision already made, “You’re coming home with me, my girl.”

There was no need for her to say anything else. She just scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, and settled into the backseat of the car. Jordan had already moved to the driver’s seat, eyes dark with determination.

The warmth of the car was an overwhelming contrast to the cold night air, but you still trembled. Your small hands clung to Leah’s coat, refusing to let go. Leah pulled you against her chest, wrapping both arms securely around you.

“You’re safe now, my girl,” Leah whispered, rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.

Jordan glanced at the rearview mirror, her brows furrowed in concern, “She looks absolutely freezing, Le.”

“I know,” Leah murmured, shifting to wrap more of her coat around you as she pressed another kiss to your temple, her voice unwavering, “We’ll get her warm as soon as we’re home.”

“Mum? We’re back,” Leah called as she stepped inside, tightening her grip on you.

“Oh, thank God,” Amanda’s voice was laced with relief as she saw you, before turning to Leah with a firm look, “You’d better have not been speeding in the car, Leah Cathrine!”

“What– No! Of course not,” Leah huffed, shaking her head, obviously not going to tell her the truth.

“The way you rushed out of here, I had my doubts…” Amanda raised an eyebrow, “And you’d better have not been speeding with Monkey in the car, either!”

Leah exhaled sharply, not in the mood to argue, “Mum, I need to get Monkey warm. She’s freezing and trembling like a leaf. I’m running her a bath.”

Amanda’s expression softened as she turned to you, “Hi, Monkey.”

“Hi, ‘Manda,” You barely managed a whisper.

“I have an idea,” Amanda crouched slightly, keeping her voice gentle, “How about after your bath when you’re all comfy in pyjamas, I make a hot chocolate? It won’t be as good as David, but I promise it’ll still be pretty great.”

You hesitated before giving a tiny nod, “O…Okay.”

Leah pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Come on, my girl.” She murmured, leading you upstairs, and guiding you gently while you clung to her.

As soon as you reached the bathroom, you sank onto the closed toilet lid, too cold and drained to move as Leah busied herself with the taps.

The sound of rushing water filled the space, steam curling into the air. Leah turned back to you with a small smile, “Do you want a lot of bubbles? Or just a few?”

You didn’t answer. You just stared into space, you didn’t know what to say.

Leah watched you carefully, her heart aching at how small you looked, curled in on yourself, trembling. She kept her voice soft, and gentle, “Monkey?”

You blinked slowly, still shivering before shrugging a little, “A… A lot?”

“A lot of bubbles, coming right up,” Leah smiled and poured in a generous amount of bubble bath and sat on the edge of the tub, swirling her hand in the warm water as the bubbles grew. She glanced over, taking in the sight of you–curled in on yourself while sitting on the toilet lid, your arms wrapped tightly around you, and looking so small.

“I’ll let you get in, yeah?” Leah murmured, standing up and wiping her hands on her joggers, “I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me.”

You nodded stiffly with your gaze fixed on the tiled floor. Leah hesitated, waiting to see if you’d say anything else, but when you remained silent, she turned towards the door.

“W… Wait,” Leah’s hands were about to grip the handle when your voice, small and hesitant, stopped her.

Leah turned back immediately, “You okay, my girl?”

Your fingers curled into the hem of your football shorts. You swallowed, not meeting her eyes.

“Can you… Can you stay outside? On… on the other side of the door?” You mumbled.

Leah’s expression softened, “Of course, Monkey. Whatever you need,” She said, before stepping outside, pulling the door almost closed but leaving a small gap, just enough to show you she was still there.

You heard her settle against the wall, the quiet rustle of fabric as she sat down.

Taking a shaky breath, you forced yourself to move, peeling off your kit piece by piece. Your body ached as you climbed into the tub, the heat of the water making your bruises sting. You hissed, biting your lip as you sank lower.

The warmth helped, but it didn’t take away the exhaustion that weighed on you, nor the way your limbs felt too heavy.

For a few minutes, you just sat there, knees drawn up, letting the water lap at your skin. But then, as you reached for the shampoo bottle, your hands trembled.

You poured some into your palm and hesitated. The moment you tried to lift your arms, you felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through your ribs.

You sucked in a breath, wincing, “Ow,” You whimpered in pain.

You tried again, but your limbs felt weak. Useless.

The frustration burned behind your eyes and your throat tightened.

You hated this.

You hated feeling this weak.

Your fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging into your palm. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t do it.

And the worst part? You knew you wanted–needed the help.

But if you called Leah in… then she’d see the dark, ugly marks trailing along your ribs, your back and arms.

You knew she’d see the proof of everything–You didn’t want to see her face when she looked at you, and you didn’t want her to see how broken you were.

But your arms hurt. Your ribs ached. And no matter how much you willed yourself to move, you couldn’t.

“L… Le,” Your voice wavered, a lump formed in your throat, ”I… I need help.”

The door opened instantly, and Leah stepped in, her movements were quick but careful.

But the second she took in the sight of you–curled up in the tub, your arms wrapped around yourself and the bruises littering your skin–she froze.

“Oh…” Leah’s breath hitched, “Oh my God,” She looked horrified as a storm flashed behind her eyes, something dark, something furious.

Until her gaze flickered back to you, and she saw how small you looked. How vulnerable.

Leah inhaled sharply through her nose, forcing herself to push the anger aside. That could wait. Right now, you needed her.

“I… I need your help to wash my hair,” You stuttered out.

“Alright, my girl,” Leah murmured, kneeling beside the tub, “That’s not a problem. Lets’ get your hair washed, yeah?”

You nodded wordlessly.

Leah rolled her sleeves up, scooping some water in her hands before gently wetting your hair. Her touch was light, and delicate, as if she was afraid you might shatter under her hands.

Working in silence, Leah carefully lathered the shampoo before rinsing it out. Her fingers gently massaged your scalp, slow and soothing. She could feel the tension in your body, the way you were still curled in on yourself.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t push. She just kept moving, steady and calm.

When she finished, she grabbed a towel and held it open, “Come on then, out you get, my girl.”

You hesitated, but eventually, you let her wrap you up, her arms tightening just slightly around you.

Leah pressed a kiss to the top of your damp hair, “I’ve got you, my girl.”

“You get dressed, yeah? I’ll be outside the door. I’m not going far,” Leah reassured gently, her voice softer than usual.

“O… Okay. Do… Don’t go far,” You mumbled, clutching the pyjamas she handed you.

“I won’t, my girl. I promise,” Leah promised you before moving to step outside of the bedroom door, closing it with a quiet click before leaning against it. She pressed her back against the door as she tried to steady her breathing. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

The image of your bruised skin, the way you had flinched when she touched you–it was burned into her mind, and the rage in her chest only grew heavier with each passing second.

How could he do that to you?

You were so young. You were small. You didn’t deserve any of this. Swallowing hard, Leah tried to keep it together. But when she heard footsteps on the stairs, she didn’t even need to look up to know it was Jordan.

The moment Jordan reached the landing and caught sight of Leah’s face, she knew there was something wrong.

“Le,” Jordan’s voice was cautious as she stepped forward, “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked, stepping closer.

Leah let out a sharp, ragged breath, her whole body vibrating with tension. And then, suddenly, it all came spilling out.

“She’s covered in bruises, Jord,” Her voice cracked, and she slammed a fist against the wall beside her, “Fucking covered in them. That bastard–”

Jordan’s jaw tightened, “Leah–”

“No, don’t,” Leah’s voice wavered, her eyes burning with fury, “If you’re going to tell me to calm down then I don’t want to fucking hear it,” She turned on Jordan, her whole body trembling.

“I wasn’t going to,” Jordan murmured, exhaling a sigh and without hesitation, pulled Leah into a hug.

And just like that, Leah broke. The anger, the fear, the helplessness–it all came crashing down at once, and before she could stop it, she was sobbing into Jordan’s shoulder.

Jordan didn’t say anything. She just held on, letting Leah get it all out.

“I swear to God, if I ever see him again, I won’t be able to stop myself,” Leah whispered, her voice shaking, “I’ll fucking kill him, Jordan. He hurt her. He hurt our Monkey. And she was too scared to tell anyone about it. I knew it was bad… but fuck, I didn’t know it was this bad!”

Leah’s breath hitched, the anger cracking into something else–something raw and broken. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, blinking back the tears that blurred her vision.

“She’s here now,” Jordan told her, squeezing Leah a bit tighter, “With us. And she’s not going back.”

Leah nodded sharply, exhaling through gritted teeth, “I need to make the call to social services. I need to tell them that she is here.”

Jordan hesitated for a moment, “If you think that is the right thing to do.”

“As much as I don’t want to, I have to,” Leah muttered, voice thick with emotion, “I have to play by their rules.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing a hand over her face, “At least make the call when Monkey is settled and in bed. She’s been through enough today.”

Before Leah could respond, the door behind her cracked open.

You stood there, small and hesitant, wrapped in the warmth of the pyjamas and fluffy socks that Leah had brought you earlier in the week. They were slightly too big, but that only made them cosier.

Jordan’s face softened instantly, “Hey, speak of the devil. How’re you doing, little one?”

You hesitated, “Were you… Were you guys talking about me?”

Leah forced a small smile, crouching down to your level, “We’re just concerned about you, my girl. We’re going to do everything we can to make sure you’re safe.”

Your eyes darted between them, uncertainty clouding your expression, “I… I don’t want to go back there.”

“No, no,” Leah’s stomach twisted as she reached out, brushing a hand over your arm, “Not if I can help it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, “H… He scares me, Le.”

Leah’s heart ached at the broken whisper. She cupped your cheek gently, “I know, my girl. I know you are. But I’m going to do my very best to make sure that doesn’t happen, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You hesitated, giving a tiny nod.

“Right then,” Jordan sensed the shift in mood and clapped her hands together with a grin, “I know for a fact there’s a hot chocolate downstairs with your name on it.”

The change in your expression was instant. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a genuine flicker of happiness in your eyes.

“Wow. That looks great, Monkey!” Amanda praised, smiling warmly at you as she admired the LEGO set you had just finished assembling.

“T… Thanks,” You stuttered, your fingers fidgeting slightly with one of the pieces, “Can I build another set?”

“Yeah, we should!” Jacob chipped in eagerly, already reaching for another box.

Leah glanced at the clock, her expression shifting slightly. It was only 8:30 pm. Tomorrow was going to be long enough without you staying up for longer.

“It’s getting a bit late now. Let’s put it aside for now and you can continue it tomorrow, can’t you?” Leah suggested, bracing herself for the inevitable protest.

“Nooo,” You whined, shaking your head stubbornly. Your grip on the LEGO tightened.

“Mhm, I think so. Judging by the tiredness in your eyes and the whining, it might be bedtime, hm?” Leah teased, arching a brow.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “N… No, not yet! I’m still buildin’ LEGO, Le!”

Leah didn’t waver, pursing her lips, “And it’ll still be there for you tomorrow. It’s not going anywhere.”

You pretended to ignore her, prying open another set, hands moving faster.

“Monkey,” Leah gave you a warning look.

“It won’t take long to do!” You insisted, ignoring her gaze and emptying the contents of the LEGO on the carpet.

Leah exhaled a sigh, shaking her head, “Er no, I don’t think so madam,” Gently attempting to retrieve the LEGO set out of your hands, “I’ve already said no.”

You glared at her, hugging the LEGO set to your chest like it was a lifeline, “You’re being mean!”

“That’s okay to think that,” Leah replied, keeping her voice calm, “But it’s been a very long day. I know you’re tired now, aren’t you?”

“Give it back!” You whined, your voice growing sharper as you snatched the LEGO back from Leah.

Leah sucked in a surprise breath. That was new.

“Monkey,” Leah said firmly, shocked where this sudden misbehaviour had come from, “You don’t snatch. I’ve already said no, three times now. It’s bedtime.”

Your heart pounded. Bedtime meant quiet, and quiet meant your thoughts creeping in. The darkness, the loneliness–it was too much.

You shook your head quickly, refusing to let go of the LEGO set. You went as far as to rip open one of the packets, sending the small bricks spilling onto the floor.

“Hey, little one,” Jordan stepped in with a gentle but firm look, “I think it would be a good idea if we listened and put the LEGO away for tonight, yeah?”

“Don’t wanna,” You murmured, tearing into the next packet as though the plastic was a distraction from the lump in your throat, “I don’t need to go to bed.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, wordlessly collecting the spilled pieces from the carpet.

“Leah!” You turned and shot her a glare, “I was building that!” You shouted, voice shaking more than you wanted it to.

“And I’ve already told you–not tonight,” Leah said, still gentle but unwavering as she placed the LEGO out of reach, “I think you need to start using your listening ears, my girl.”

“No, I don’t want to go to bed. I want to build more LEGO!” Your voice rose in panic as you threw yourself onto the floor.

Leah didn’t bat an eyelid. She was more prepared for the emotional outburst while Jordan and Amanda exchanged shocked glances, and Jacob sat frozen, confused.

“It’s bedtime, Monkey,” Leah repeated, watching as she watched you have a complete meltdown in the space of less than five minutes.

“Sweetheart,” Amanda tried a more gentle approach, “I know today’s been a lot. I think getting a good night’s sleep might help, don’t you?” She tried her luck to get you to listen.

“No! I don’t wanna go to bed,” You mumbled, barely glancing in Amanda’s direction, “I don’t want to!”

Leah rubbed her temples, this was completely different to how it had been earlier on. The exhaustion of the day was catching up to all of them, but especially you, “Right, come on, enough of this. Bed, now.”

“I don’t wanna,” You whined, not making any attempt to get up from the floor.

Leah sighed, but this time, she softened slightly, crouching down next to you, “Monkey, listen to me.”

You turned away, arms crossed, “I… I’m not going! You can’t make me!”

“I know bedtime might feel a bit scary tonight,” Leah murmured, rubbing your back for a moment before gently taking your hand, “But you’re safe now. You’re not alone. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“No!” You screamed.

Leah didn’t hesitate, “Alright, that’s enough,” She murmured, scooping you up off the floor in one swift motion, “Bedtime, now.”

You let out a yelp of surprise, “B… But Le–”

“No buts,” Leah’s voice was firm, her grip secure as she held you against her hip, “It’s clear that you’re tired, I’m not going to stand here and argue with you about this now, so come on.”

Your pre-teenage attitude was nothing Leah or Jordan were prepared for, in comparison to the 360 mood change.

Your body tensed, but the warmth of being held was grounding. Your limbs twitched in weak protest but ultimately sagging against her.

Leah adjusted you in her arms, rubbing soothing circles into your back, “Come on, now. Let’s say goodnight.”

You huffed, glancing at Jordan, “Night, Jordy.”

“Night, little one,” Jordan smiled softly, ruffling your hair.

You turned to glance in Amanda’s direction, “Night, ‘Manda.”

“Night, sweetheart. Sleep well,” Amanda said kindly.

“Goodnight, Monkey!” Jacob grinned, peering up from his phone.

“Night, J,” You grumbled, slumping your shoulders. Then, desperate for another delay, you blurted, “Wait! I need to say goodnight to Bella!”

Jordan chuckled in amusement, “Pretty sure she’ll follow you up.”

“I’m thirsty,” You tried next.

“Oh, how convenient,” Jordan teased, rolling her eyes, “I’ll bring one up to you in bed.”

“Hello! I’m home!” David called as he stepped inside the house.

Your eyes lit up. A perfect distraction, “David’s home!”

“Oh, I thought I heard your voice,” The older man smiled, stepping into the room, “Well, this is a nice surprise having you here. Are you here for the night?”

“I’m just trying to get her up to bed but it’s proving difficult,” Leah said, shifting her grip on you as she shared a playful knowing look with David, “Maybe you’d have better luck?”

“You heard Le, time for bed champ,” David ruffled your hair, gesturing in the direction of the stairs.

Your face scrunched in defeat, “Fine.”

Leah hid a smile, carrying you up the stairs to stop you from making an escape, “I’ll be back down once she’s settled.”

“You sound very grown up,” Jacob snickered.

Leah huffed, rolling her eyes, “Shut it, you.”

“Do I even want to ask what that was about?” David chuckled, amusedly, glancing at Amanda.

“Probably not, no,” Amanda responded.

“Sounds like Leah has her work cut out for her tonight,” David noted.

“Teenagers,” Jacob quipped.

“Speak for yourself,” Jordan laughed as she got up off the sofa to go make you a glass of water per your request.

“That’s not the way to the bathroom, last time I checked,” Leah noted with a raised eyebrow. She’s placed you back down on the floor once she was sure you wouldn’t try to make a break for it.

You ignored her completely, your focus snapping to something familiar on the bed. A rush of relief flooded through you as you darted into your temporary bedroom, eyes wide with excitement, “My monkey!” You gasped, snatching up the stuffed toy you thought you’d lost forever.

Leah’s stern expression softened, her arms crossing loosely over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe, “I thought you’d miss it.”

“You found it! I thought… I thought I lost it!” You clutched the plush close to your chest, the comfort of it grounding you in a way you desperately needed.

“Jacob found it on the stairs the night you left. I kept it here safe for you,” Leah explained gently.

You squeezed your stuffed toy tighter, the overwhelming emotions making your throat tighten, “I’ve missed him.”

Leah smiled faintly, “I know.”

But she didn’t give you too much time to get lost in your thoughts, “Right, come on you. Bathroom–go brush your teeth. I want to see those pearly whites,” She instructed, nudging you lightly toward the hallway.

You groaned, dragging your feet, “Pearly whites?”

“It’s just another phrase for teeth,” Leah clarified, walking beside you to make sure you actually follow through.

You begrudgingly brushed your teeth, only because Leah was watching you like a hawk the entire time. When you finished, you hesitantly turned to face her.

“Let’s have a look–” Leah leaned forward dramatically, inspecting your mouth with exaggerated scrutiny, “Ooo, they’re lovely and shiny.”

You rolled your eyes but giggled despite yourself, “You’re silly.”

“It’s the best way to be,” Leah smirked, following as you wandered back into the bedroom. She pulled back the duvet, patting the mattress, “Right, into bed.”

You didn’t hesitate to crawl under the covers, still clutching your stuffed animal, “I’m not tired.”

Leah gave you a knowing look, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “It’s too early to go to sleep.”

“It might be usually, but you’ve had such a long day, and tomorrow is going to be just as busy,” Leah reasoned, keeping her tone of voice soft but firm, “I just want to make sure you’ve had enough rest.”

You frowned, “J’s still awake, though.”

“Well, J is a little bit older than you, isn’t he?” Leah reminded you.

“Not fair–” You shifted restlessly, then suddenly sat up, “I’m hungry! Can I have a biscuit?”

Leah exhaled a sigh, “You’ve already eaten dinner, and you had pudding as well. And chocolate. I think if you have any more, you’re going to end up with a bit of a tummy ache, won’t you?”

You pouted, “Please, Le?”

“No, Monkey,” Leah remained firm on her decision, “Come on now, it’s time to sleep.”

You flopped back onto the pillow with a dramatic groan, “How can I sleep if I’m not tired?”

“You have to close your eyes and try,” Leah smirked, tucking you in, “Now, any more questions?”

Silence lingered for a moment before you blurted out your next question, “How much do sharks weigh?”

Leah blinked at the sudden change of topic, “I… I don’t know.”

“That’s no good,” You let out an exaggerated sigh, “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Leah snorted, shaking her head, “I am smart, Monkey. But I don’t just have random shark facts stored in my brain.”

You frowned, “Well, Google it, then. Duh.”

Leah shot you a pointed look just as Jordan appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.

“Still fighting the bedtime battle?” Jordan teased, handing the glass over.

“Just a bit,” Leah deadpanned before turning back to you. She arched an eyebrow, “Alright, little miss attitude, why don’t you tell me the real reason you don’t want to sleep, hm?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of the duvet, “I… I’m just not tired,” You muttered.

Jordan lingered for a moment, watching the exchange before giving Leah a knowing look. She knew you’d settle faster with just one person in the room, “I’ll leave you to it,” She murmured before quietly slipping out, pulling the door ajar behind her.

Leah waited until she was gone before lowering herself onto the edge of the bed, “Come on, Monkey. This is me you’re talking to. What’s really going on?”

Your throat tightened as you clutched your stuffed animal closer, “I… I don’t want to sleep. What if… I… I…” You struggled to get the words out.

Leah’s expression softened, “You can do it, my girl. Tell me how you’re feeling. I’m listening to you.”

“I… I don’t want you to leave me,” You said, tears pricking at your eyes.

“I’m right here, my girl,” Leah’s heart clenched, “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be scared about that.”

“You promise?” You asked, holding out your pinky finger.

Leah wrapped her own pinky around yours, “I promise, Monkey. You’re staying here with me, I’m going to make sure of it this time,” She told you, “I love you so much, my girl.”

Your lips wobbled slightly before you whispered, “I love you too, Le.”

Leah smiled, leaning forward and running a hand through your hair, “I don’t want you to go through any more hurt or pain, and I’m going to fight to protect you. I messed up before, but I won’t let it happen this time.”

Without any hesitation, you leaned forward and threw your arms around her, “I was… I was so scared. I thought he would find me before you both arrived. I didn’t… I didn’t want him to find me.”

“I know you were,” Leah murmured, gently continuing to run her hands through your hair as she held you close, “But you’re safe now. You’re with us, and nothing is going to hurt you anymore. We’ll always keep you safe, I promise.”

You buried your face into her chest, feeling the warmth of her embrace wrapping around you like a shield, “I… I didn’t want him to hurt me. I thought he… I thought he would, Le,” Tears begin to flow, a flood of emotions finally pouring out all at once, “I don’t want to go back there–I don’t want to!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re here now, you’re here with us, and I won’t ever let him hurt you again. Okay?” Leah fought to push down her own anger, focusing instead on comforting you as she held you tight, letting you cry in her arms.

You sniffled, still not fully able to shake the fear that had gripped you, but slowly, you relaxed yourself into her arms.

Leah gently wiped away a tear from your cheek, her heart aching at the vulnerability you were showing. She held you tighter for a moment, feeling her protectiveness instincts surge as she kissed the top of your head, “I won’t let him hurt you again, I promise. No one is ever going to hurt you again,” She whispered, her voice low and soothing.

Eventually, after a few minutes, Leah pulled back just enough to look at your face, “You’re so strong, Monkey,” She said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, “And I’m so proud of you. You know that?”

You looked up at her, your eyes wide and vulnerable. You didn’t have the words, but you nodded slowly, feeling comforted by the tenderness in her eyes.

With a final reassuring squeeze, Leah helped you settle back onto your pillows, smoothing the covers around you, “I’ll stay right here until you fall asleep, okay?” She said, her voice a gentle murmur as she tucked you in snugly, “Do you want me to read you a story?” She teased.

And to Leah’s surprise, you nodded, “I want that book,” You mumbled tiredly, pointing to the familiar book cover of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone resting on the nightstand.

Leah grinned, picking up the book and flipping it open to the first page, "Mr and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,” She began, glancing down at you with a mischievous smile, “I don’t know about that now, do you?” She joked, her playful manner still in her voice.

You were too tired to respond, but you listened to the rhythm of her voice, the warmth of it enough to make you feel safe as your eyelids began to flutter shut.

Leah, absorbed in the book, glanced down at you and noticed your half-asleep state, “I think that’s enough reading for tonight," She murmured with a soft smile, gently closing the book and careful not to disturb the peace of the room, “Sweet dreams, my girl.” She whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“Night, Le,” You mumbled, your eyes barely open as you clutched your stuffed Monkey tightly in your arms, “Love you.”

“I love you too, Monkey,” Leah smiled softly, standing up from the bed, ready to turn off the bedside light.

“No, don’t,” You panicked slightly, your voice small, “Can you… Can you leave it on, please?”

“Of course,” Leah replied with a warm nod, her heart softening at the request. She left the room quietly, pulling the door ajar just enough so she could hear if you woke up and needed her. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching over you until you fell asleep.

You were safe. You were home.

“She’s finally asleep,” Leah murmured as she walked back into the living room, exhaustion evident in her posture as she flopped down on the sofa beside Jordan, “I wasn’t prepared for that battle tonight.”

“You handled it well, Bubba,” Amanda reassured her with a soft smile, “I was just filling your dad in on everything that happened today.”

David hummed in disapproval, “She went off to sleep okay?”

Leah nodded as she took a seat, her eyes softening as she thought about the moment she’s just shared with you, “Yeah, she’s asleep now. Took a little while, but she’s settled now.”

Jordan glanced up from where she was sitting, a warm, knowing smile on her face, “It’s good that she’s getting some rest. It’s been a long day.

David let out a low sigh, still not entirely convinced about the situation, “I just don’t like how all of this is affecting her. It’s not right, Leah.”

Leah met his gaze, her expression firm but compassionate, “I know, I don’t like it either but I’m going to do everything I can in my power to make sure she’s safe. I’m not going to fail this time.”

Jacob looked up from his phone briefly, his casual demeanor replaced by something more serious, “I’m glad she’s got you both. It sucks what she’s been throgh,” He paused for a moment before his eyes shifted back to the screen, “But is she… okay?”

Leah exhaled softly, a slight frown tugging at her lips, “She will be. It’s just going to take a bit of time. But we’ll help her get there, one step at a time.”

“We’re here to support you, Bubba,” Amanda gave Leah a reassuring glance, “You’re not going to be alone in this. She’s got a solid support system. That counts for something.”

Leah smiled faintly, looking down at her hands for a moment, “Yeah…I just want to protect her from everything that’s happened. All of it,” Her voice softened with the weight of her words, “I won’t let anyone hurt my kid again.”

“I know you won’t,” David’s expression softened a little, though still edged with concern.

“Do you think the hot chocolate helped?” Amanda joked, shifting to keep the atmosphere in the room light with a playful smile.

“It might’ve done the trick,” Leah said with a tired grin.

“Not as good as mine, I bet,” David said with a knowing look.

Amanda shot him a playful glance, “I tried my best.”

“Did you find out what that meltdown was all about earlier?” Jordan asked, curiously.

Leah exhaled a sigh, running her hand through her hair, “Yeah… she didn’t want to sleep, because she was afraid that I would leave her. She thought that tomorrow morning she’ll have to go back to her dad’s house.”

“I see,” Jordan replied, exhaling a matching sigh, “She’s a good kid, ain’t she? She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“That scumbag never deserved her,” Leah spat, her anger resurfacing now that you were asleep, and she didn’t have to hold back.

Amanda placed a calming hand on Leah’s arm, “Bubba, I know you’re angry, but lashing out isn’t going to help.”

“Your mum’s right, sweetheart,” David added gently.

Amanda gave her a sad smile, “We need to think about what happens next, don’t we?”

Leah nodded, her thoughts already shifting to the practical next steps, “I know. I need to call Monkey’s social worker,” She mumbled, not exactly thrilled to have that conversation, but it was necessary.

It was now or never.

Leah dialed the number, her fingers hovering nervously over the screen before she placed the call, “Hello, this is Leah Williamson. I need to talk to a social worker about an ongoing case.”

“Is Monkey going to live with us now?” Jacob piped in, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“We don’t know that yet, son,” David replied with a heavy sigh, trying to follow Leah’s conversation as she explained the situation briefly.

When Leah hung up, she exhaled in relief, setting her phone down on the sofa, “They’re sending someone round tomorrow afternoon to talk to us.”

Jordan nodded, rubbing a hand over her face, “Alright. That’s good.”

Leah’s expression darkened again, “She doesn’t have anything here. Other than her pyjamas which I brought her, and her football kit, she doesn’t have clothes–nothing.”

“She didn’t have a bag with her?” David asked, frowning.

“No, she came here with clothes on her back,” Leah replied, “She’s going to need more. She needs… just– she needs stuff. Jord, go to Tesco. Grab what you can. Anything she might need.”

Jordan blinked in surprise, “Uh–what stuff?”

Leah huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “Clothes, Jord. Pyjamas. Socks. Toothbrush. Just… I don’t know. Whatever she needs. Just get it.”

Jordan shifted awkwardly, “What size is she?”

Leah groaned, rubbing her temples, “I don’t fucking know–just guess, Jord. Use your common sense!”

“Leah!” Amanda snapped, her voice sharp, “We know you’re frustrated, but don’t swear at Jordan. We have raised you better than that.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Leah quickly apologised, her anger deflating with the reprimand.

“You need to take a minute to calm down,” Amanda told her firmly, standing up and grabbing her car keys, “Look, Jord and I will go to Tesco now and grab some essentials for her. You stay here, in case Monkey needs you, okay?”

Leah nodded, finally taking a deep breath as her frustration gave way to exhaustion, “Thanks, Mum.”

“I’m coming!” Jacob insisted, wasting no time to grab his trainers, “She needs snacks. Food always helps when you’re feeling sad, don’t it?”

Amanda chuckled, nodding in agreement, “You’re right there, son. Come on then.”

“I know you’re frustrated, sweetheart, but you have to stay calm,” David told her as the two of them sat alone in the room, “You won’t be any good to Monkey if you’re letting your anger get the best of you.”

“I know, Dad. I just… I don’t want to let her down. I can’t let it happen. Not again,” Leah’s voice trembled with emotion.

David nodding in understanding, reaching forward to squeeze Leah’s knee in reassurance, “Just… don’t burn yourself out trying to fix it all at once.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Leah met his gaze, a small but grateful smile playing on her lips, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“This will be worth it in the end,” He added with a teasing grin, “Mind you, I never imagined your mum and I would become grandparents so young.”

“Le?” Jordan shifted, waking up to find Leah awake, “How long have you been–”

“Can you hear that?” Leah cut her off, gesturing to the faint nose in the background, “It sounds like…” Her words were cut short by a blood-curdling scream that shattered the night.

Leah’s heart stopped for a moment before it began racing in her chest. She shot up in bed, the panic rising in her throat, her instincts already pulling her towards the door. Jordan, Amanda and David were right behind her.

“Monkey!” Leah yelled, as she hurried into the hallway, her feet pounding against the wooden floor.

Jacob appeared out of his bedroom, half-asleep, he looked confused, “What’s that noise?”

David placed his hand on Jacob’s shoulder, “I think Monkey had a nightmare. You should go back to sleep, it’s late and you have school tomorrow,” He told him with a knowing look, “Your sister has it under control.”

Leah burst into the room, her eyes immediately finding you thrashing under the duvet, your cries raw and panicked as you gasped for breath between sobs. Your arms flailed, hands twisting into fists as you kicked at the sheets, trying to escape something only you could see.

“Monkey! Monkey, it’s okay! You’re safe,” Leah’s voice was firm but gentle as she reached for you, but the moment her fingers brushed against your arm, you recoiled violently, another piercing scream ripping from your throat.

Jordan winced at the sound, glancing at Amanda with wide, uncertain eyes, “She’s not awake.”

“Shh, sweetheart, we’re here,” Amanda’s voice was soothing as she flicked on the lamp, casting a warm glow over the room.

Your chest heaved, breaths coming too fast, too shallow. You didn’t like the light. It was too bright, too sudden. You curled in on yourself, hands flying to your ears as a whimper escaped your lips. The noise, the movement–it was all too much.

Leah crouched beside you, hands resting on her knee and making sure she wasn’t too close, “Monkey, it’s me. It’s Le,” She said softly, “You’re safe. You’re at home, my girl.”

At the sound of her voice, your head jerked up, eyes wild and unfocused, “He… He was–” You breath hitched as your face crumpled.

“I know, my girl,” Leah’s heart clenched, nodding slowly, “But he’s not here. I promise, you’re safe.”

You let out a broken sob, still trembling, your whole body buzzing with restless energy. Leah hesitated only for a moment before reaching forward again. Only this time you didn’t flinch away when she gently wrapped her arms around you, pulling you against her chest.

“I… It was real–It felt so real,” You whimpered, clutching at her like she might disappear.

“You’re okay,” Leah murmured, rocking you slightly, “Breath with me, yeah? In… and out…”

You tried, but your breaths were still shallow, your body still twitching like you needed to move–like you couldn’t stop moving. Leah ran a hand up and down your back, grounding you.

“Feel my breathing, Monkey. Can you match mine?” Leah encouraged.

Slowly, you did. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of Leah’s shirt as your gasps evened out, your body sagging against her as exhaustion started creeping back in.

“I’m sleepy,” You mumbled, voice thick with tears.

Leah nodded, adjusting you slightly so you were more comfortable, “I know, Monkey. I’ve got you.”

She felt it immediately–the dampness seeping through your pyjamas.

Your whole body tensed as you realised what had happened.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I–” Your voice came out small, barely above a whisper.

Leah didn’t let you finish, “It’s okay,” She said simply, squeezing you a little tighter, “You got scared, that’s all. It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

But you wouldn’t meet her eyes, curling in on yourself.

“I didn’t even feel it,” You mumbled.

“I know, my girl,” Leah soothed, “That happens sometimes when you have a really bad nightmare. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Amanda, still standing in the doorway, gave Leah a soft nod and quietly went to grab clean sheets. Jordan followed, muttering something about getting you some water.

“Come on,” Leah coaxed gently, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You hesitated, but when Leah stood and offered her hand, you took it. She helped you into the bathroom, running warm water and handing you a fresh pair of pyjamas from the improvised late night Tesco shopping trip that Jordan, Amanda and Jacob went way too overboard on clothes and toys.

Leah never rushed you, she didn’t make a big deal out of it, but instead she just talked to you softly about Coco Pops and the cartoons you could watch in the morning.

Your fear returned when it was time to return to your bedroom. The thought of being alone again sent a shiver down your spine. You clung to Leah’s arm, trembling as you shook your head, tears still clinging to your lashes, “I… I don’t want to go back. Please don’t make me.”

Leah’s heart twisted at the sight of you, “You’re okay, my girl. You can go back to bed, it’s safe now.”

You didn’t budge, you shook your head, your body trembling with exhaustion and fear, “N… No. Please… Please don’t leave me,” The words were barely above a whisper, desperate. Your lip wobbled as fresh tears welled in your eyes.

Leah crouched down, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, “Hey, you’re not alone. I’m right here, I promise,” She murmured, her voice thick with emotion, “I tell you what–tonight, you can sleep with me and Jordy tonight, just for tonight, okay?” Ultimately she would have preferred for you to go back to sleep in your bed, but she could tell how shook up you still were, and making sure you were okay was the priority right now.

You nodded quickly, your whole body sagging with relief. You felt safe, finally. You didn’t care that you were 12 or that this was probably a little silly–right now, all you wanted was to feel loved, protected, and not alone.

Leah gave you a gentle time as she helped you into bed, “We have a guest joining us tonight,” She said to Jordan, glancing up at her as she settled beside you.

Jordan’s eyes softened, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she watched you curl up close to Leah, “I see that,” She replied, her voice warm, “Hi, little one.”

Your thumb found its way to your mouth instinctively. Your fingers trembling as you sucked it in, a habit you hadn’t relied on in a long time, but right now, it brought a sense of comfort that nothing else could.

Leah’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against her chest, “You’re safe with us, Monkey. I’ve got you, my girl. You can close your eyes and sleep now,” She said, her fingers stroking your hair.

“M’ sleepy,” You mumbled, your eyes fluttered closed, the warmth of Leah’s embrace making you feel like everything would be okay, even if just for tonight.

The rhythmic beat of Leah’s heart and the steady sound of Jordan’s breathing surrounded you like a cocoon, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of their arms.

“Le, can I… I have cereal for breakfast?” You asked, excitedly as you bounded into the kitchen still dressed in your pajamas, your hair wild like a lion’s mane, “You promised I could!”

“Of course you can, Monkey. You can have anything that you want,” Leah replied, the tiredness evident in her own voice.

Your eyes lit up, “Even Coco pops?”

Leah smiled and nodded, “Even Coco pops.”

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, bouncing on your toes.

Despite the nightmare from the night before, you were up and ready at 7 am, wide awake. Leah, reluctantly getting up with you, switched on the TV for morning cartoons while she made you the promised bowl of Coco Pops.

You sat on the spinny chair in the kitchen, pushing it back and forth, spinning in circles, “Why did Jordy stay in bed? She’s missing out on Spongebob!” You giggled, pointing at the screen.

“I’m not missing out, I’m just avoiding the early morning Spongebob chaos,” Jordan appeared in the doorway, her voice groggy but playful, “Besides, if I have to listen to Spongebob’s laugh one more time before coffee, I might just turn into Plankton.”

Leah chuckled softly, shaking her head at Jordan’s antics, “Jordy isn’t much of a fan of early mornings,” She explained, “Do you want a bit of milk or a lot of milk?”

“Hm, not too much. It’ll make the cereal yucky!” You scrunched your face in mock disgust as you inspected the milk bottle.

It was remarkable to see how quickly your joy had returned, despite the nightmare that had shaken you both in the middle of the night. Leah had hardly slept, and neither had you. Your scream had woken up the entire house, sending everyone into a flurry of concern, but now, here you were, laughing over breakfast.

Leah sat at the kitchen table, fingers tapping anxiously against the wood. Jordan was across from her, just as tense but they both kept a brave face for you as you sat opposite them, oblivious and munching on your breakfast.

You stared at your bowl, then looked at them, your thoughts turning inward. You knew it was Monday. On Mondays, you always went to school. So why weren’t you today?

“So, Monkey,” Leah began the difficult conversation, keeping her voice soft, “Today, someone is going to come round from social services to talk to us–well, to you.”

“Why?” You asked, your stomach dropping at the unfamiliarity of the situation.

“Because it’s important that it happens I’m afraid,” Leah replied softly, but there was something about the way she said it that made you feel uneasy.

Your eyes widened in fear, instant panic taking over your face, “No, no… They’re just going to send me back to my dad's!”

“They’re not. I won’t let them, okay?” Leah shook her head quickly, her voice firm but gentle, “Not this time. We’ll talk to them, we’ll explain everything that happened, okay? There’s no need to be scared.”

“O… Okay,” You whispered, the fear still gripping your chest.

You really didn’t understand, but you didn’t want to ask again. You hated it when people didn’t answer your questions the way you wanted them to. It felt… off. You didn’t know why, but it made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t like.

“Eat your breakfast before it goes cold, little one,” Jordan encouraged, trying to lift your spirits.

You giggled, poking your spoon around in your bowl, “It’s cereal, Jordy. It’s already cold.”

“Of course, silly me,” Jordan smiled at you, her voice light, trying to coax a smile from you.

Leah shook her head with a fond smile, “What’s she like, eh?”

“Silly!” You said, a genuine smile spreading across your face as you took another spoonful of your cereal.

By the time lunch had rolled around, the house was filled with the sounds of laughter and light-hearted jokes. You were sitting on the floor in the living room, building your Lego set, your fingers moving quickly as you pieced together a colourful castle. Leah and Jordan were sitting nearby, Leah with her phone, and Jordan struggling to assemble a poorly designed tower that kept collapsing.

“Jordy, that’s not how you build it!” You giggled, pointing at the mess she was creating, “It’s all wrong! The pieces don’t go like that!”

Jordan pouted, clearly amused by her own failure, “Oh, really? I thought it was a… modern abstract tower, that’s all.”

“Nooo, it’s awful!” You told her, grinning as she made an exaggerated face of frustration, “You have to build it properly!”

Leah laughed softly at the two of you, shaking her head, “You two are something else.”

You giggled mischievously in response, feeling more comfortable with them than you had in so long.

But as you clicked the last piece into place on your Lego creation, a sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment.

Leah stood quietly, her mood shifting as she turned towards the door, “Stay here,” She said, her voice gentle but firm, “I’ll go let them in. It’s going to be fine, yeah?”

You nodded, clutching the Lego piece in your hand, feeling a nervous flutter in your chest, “I’m scared, Jordy,” You turned to look at Jordan for her help.

“Hey,” Jordan shifted to move closer and wrap a protective arm around you, “You don’t need to be scared. Leah and I are going to sort this out. We’re not letting you go this time.”

Leah opened the door before the second knock could land, her eyes immediately locking with the woman standing there. The woman was in her mid-thirties, with an expression that was professional but kind.

“Miss Williamson?” She asked.

Leah’s grip tightened on the doorframe, “Yes.”

“My name is Hannah, and I’m from social services,” The lady introduced herself, showing proof of her ID card.

Leah’s jaw tightened, unfamiliar with this lady, “You’re not Monkey’s… I mean, you’re not the one I spoke to before at social services?”

“I’m afraid her case has been reassigned to me,” Hannah explained, her voice steady but with a trace of sympathy.

Leah stepped aside, her eyes momentarily narrowing with a mix of frustration and concern, “Right. Come in,“ She said, ushering the woman inside, “Monkey is in the living room with my partner.”

The moment the door closed behind them, you stiffened, instinctively shrinking back into your seat on the floor, your eyes darting between the unfamiliar woman and the safety of the room.

“Monkey?” Leah approached you with a cautious look, “This is Hannah. She’s from Social Services, and she’d like to talk to you. Think you can do that?”

You froze, feeling a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to talk to her. Didn’t even want to look at her.

“Hi, Monkey,” Hannah greeted you, though you could hear the professionalism still, “I’m Hannah. It’s nice to meet you.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Instead, you focused on your Lego, avoiding eye contact, desperately trying to make yourself small, to disappear into the safety of the pieces in your hand.

“I understand that you stayed here with Miss Williamson and her partner last night, is that right?”

“Her name’s Leah, not Miss Williamson,” You mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Right, of course. You stayed here last night with Leah, and her partner,” Hannah corrected herself, glancing in Jordan’s direction.

“Jordan,” Jordan answered curtly.

Hannah nodded, making a note of it on her clipboard, “So, you stayed here last night. Can you tell me what happened before that?”

You tensed, shrugging your shoulders and uninterested in talking. Your fingers trembled as they fiddled with a piece of Lego, keeping your eyes downcast. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak–not now. Instead, you scrambled up off the floor and reluctantly glued yourself to Leah, pushing to sit directly in her lap as she wrapped her arms around you protectively.

She wouldn’t force you to talk, not if you weren’t ready.

Jordan noticed your withdrawal and sat up from where she was sitting on the carpet originally beside you to move to sit on the sofa beside you and Leah, “Maybe it would be better if one of us spoke about it?” She suggested, offering you a silent but supportive glance.

Hannah nodded, understanding the hesitation, “That’s perfectly fine,” She agreed, her gaze flicking from you to Leah.

Leah inhaled sharply, her voice steady but filled with an intensity that you hadn’t seen before, “I got the phone call from Monkey last night. She was in distress and needed our help. We found her hiding out on the street, terrified and cold. She didn’t want to go back to her dad. Mark. He’s… He’s been hurting her,” She paused, the words heavy, but she didn’t look away, “I tried to talk to her old social worker, and every time, I was brushed off. And now look what’s happened. I’m not letting her go back to him. That’s not an option.”

Hannah regarded her carefully, her face softening with empathy, though her eyes still remained sharp, “Leah, I understand that you’re worried, but–”

“No, you don’t understand,” Leah’s voice cut through, unwavering, “I’m not letting her go back. She’s staying here. With me. With us.”

“Leah,” Hannah’s eyes softened as she took a slow breath, her clipboard held tightly in her hands, “Legally, there’s a process we have to follow.”

“Then follow it. But you’re not taking her away from me,” Leah responded firmly, her posture rigid as she pulled out her phone, “I’ve got proof. I’ve got everything–pictures, recordings. You need to see what happened. The bruises, the fear in her eyes, the way she recoils at the mention of his name–And last night, she had a nightmare. She was screaming blue murder. I had to get up with her in the middle of the night because she was terrified. She had an accident because she was so fearful. She was shaking when I finally got her back to sleep.”

Hannah’s face paled as she watched the footage, looked at the pictures of the bruises, the evidence unmistakable. Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak right away. Instead, she took a moment, her fingers gripping the clipboard harder.

“I’ll be escalating this immediately,” Hannah murmured, her voice low and serious, “This isn’t something that can just be swept aside.”

Leah exhaled sharply, but relief was short-lived. Hannah wasn’t done yet.

“There will need to be a court process,” She continued, “For now, we can arrange for emergency placement with you both, but a judge will need to approve the custody arrangement.”

Leah clenched her jaw, her heart racing, “And what happens if he tries to fight it?”

“The court will give him a chance to try and change his ways. But…” Hannah explained, her voice dropping in tone, “I’ve seen cases like this before. With the evidence you’ve shown me… I doubt they’ll risk sending her back.”

Leah’s stomach churned, but she nodded, her body tense, still holding onto the hope that you were safe. That she had done the right thing.

And somehow, for once, the system worked. A court order was pushed through, and Leah and Jordan were granted joint custody. Your dad was given a second chance to change–He had been allowed to have supervised visits.

Leah wasn’t thrilled, but at least this way you were safe with them for now.

As you sat in Leah’s lap, still curled up, she leaned down and kissed the top of your head softly, “You’re here, you’re safe. This is exactly what Jean wanted all along.”

Leah held you a little tighter, her arms a protective shield around you, and the words hung in the air for a long moment. Jean had always wished for Leah to have custody of you, to keep you safe from your dad.

Now, it was finally happening. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to relax, the fear in your chest easing as you let yourself believe it.

You were safe. You were home.

#woso x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #monkey #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs x reader

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ofbatsandballads · 24 hours ago

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have a little Jason drabble inspired by me going to my work bestie’s bachelorette party tonight. yes, yes I did imagine all this while getting ready and what about it? also consider this a part of my jason gets the girl series.

Jason Todd is a worrier. You knew that the very first night you met him when he automatically assumed that you, a woman living alone and wearing fuzzy pajamas, would be a danger to him. You know that now by his incessant questions that he’s been pelting at you for the past hour.

“You’ll keep in contact with me, right?” he asks from the other side of the shower curtain.

“Of course, Jay,” you reply as you twist like a contortionist while shaving your legs.

“I know it’s a bachelorette party, but please don’t drink so much that you don’t know what’s goin’ on around you, baby,” he says, voice raised so you can hear him over your hair dryer.

“I know, Jay. I’ve not forgotten where we live!” you shout back as reassuringly as you can.

“You sure I can’t convince ya to stay here with me?” he asks, only half joking, as you flip through the hangers in your shared closet looking for what to wear.

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” you concede as he kisses down your neck. “But no. Alas, I cannot be a shitty friend.”

“Fine. But at least wear somethin’ that goes with the jacket I got you,” he grumbles.

You laugh under your breath. This man. He’s such a worry wart. But you get it. Jason goes out every night into the belly of the beast, sees the worst of the worst. He knows what happens to vulnerable young women in this city, and you can’t blame him for his overprotective nature. So if wearing the tan leather jacket, a smaller replica of the one he wears as Red Hood, that has a tracker sewn into the interior is what he needs to ease his anxious mind, you’ll do it without complaint.

“It’s a gorgeous jacket, Jaybear. It goes with everything,” you say as you scratch soothingly at his scalp.

“You know where you’ll be tonight?” he asks from the foot of your bed, watching you as you put on your makeup.

“Uh huh. We’re not going to any bars or clubs or anything like that. Maid of honor just rented a penthouse in the Diamond District. We’ll probably spend the night eating pizza and drinking cocktails,” you answer as you try not to stab yourself in the eye with your mascara wand.

Jason makes a little grunt of agreement. You idly think that he sounds just like his dad, but you also don’t say that because you’re not a complete idiot. Also because you once told Jason he looked like Bruce and how miraculous that was since he was adopted, and he spent the next three days mumbling 'don't look anythin’ like the old man’ every time he glanced in a mirror.

You glance behind you in the vanity mirror to see the love of your life. His expression tugs your heartstrings. He looks so…melancholy. Emotions are storming in his sea green eyes and all you want is to ease his worries. You lay down your makeup brush and pad over to him, settling down in his lap. His hands come up automatically to rest on your hips, thumbs stroking over the softness.

“What’s wrong, angel?” you whisper, smoothing out the creases between his furrowed eyebrows with the tips of your fingers.

“I don’t—” he stops abruptly, tries to find the words he needs. “I’m not tryin’ to be overbearing. Don’t wanna be one of those guys that tells their girl what to do.”

He takes a breath and you stay silent. He has to get this out and you’ll wait as long as it takes.

“I just…worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t lose you. I can’t,” and his voice breaks like stained glass. “I wouldn’t survive it. I know this is fuckin’ stupid. Me actin’ like this over a bachelorette party but I just…I can’t stop thinkin’ about all the things that could happen.”

Oh. Oh, your sweet, loving, heaven sent boyfriend. You know his past haunts him, that this city haunts him. You wish you could take all his worries away and wrap him in a nice warm blanket. You’d tuck him away from the world, keep him safe and happy and cared for all his days if you could.

“Jason, look at me,” you tilt his head up with your fingers under his jaw. “I promise you I will do everything in my power to be as safe as possible. I won’t drink irresponsibly. I’ll make sure to text you if anything, and I mean anything, starts to get weird. It won’t, but if it did you would be on speed dial. And trust me, angel, I have no intentions of staying the night.”

You don’t. Good friend or not, you can’t sleep well if you’re not wrapped in the strong arms of the man beneath you.

“So I expect you to be waiting on that tricked out bike of yours to pick me up,” you beam at him, run your hand through his hair because you know it makes him melt into your touch.

“I’ll be waitin’ for you,” he says, a solemn promise that extends far beyond tonight.

“Good. Now that being said, I will be bringing home all the dick decorations because I wanna plant them in your brother’s apartment. Just to fuck with him,” you giggle.

Jason lights up for the first time tonight. His green eyes gleam with mischief and adoration.

“Oh, you are my fuckin’ soulmate, baby. I’ll help you break in.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #remy writes 🖋️#jason gets the girl universe #I FUCKIN LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR #ugh. wish this was real. wish I had jason todd picking me up tonight.#alas a girl can only dream

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 day ago

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*Riddle, Malleus, and Leona were sitting quietly next to each other while the MC(?) stood by the door, guarding it.*

Leona: Is there any use in guarding that door? If they want to hunt us, I'm sure you're not enough to stop them from breaking in.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I'm sorry... If only I had tried harder, I could have helped you escape like the others.

Malleus: No, you’ve done more than enough. Without you, we would have fallen prey to the doppelgangers.

Riddle: I agree with Malleus-senpai. Thank you for saving the others. We owe you so much.

MC(?): ...

Leona(?): Have you said your goodbyes?

Idia(?): Don’t rush them—they still have a few minutes.

Riddle(?): Malleus? Are you not joining the hunt?

Malleus(?): *chuckles* I’ve decided to sit this one out.

Malleus(?): My precious, I hope you enjoy the hunt. I’ll be waiting for you when all of this is over.

Leona, Malleus, and Riddle: ...

MC(?): ...

Leona: Hey, what are the chances we’ll survive this?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): It depends... on how desperate you are to live.

Leona: Haa... I shouldn't have asked.

Malleus: Can you try one more time to get Rosehearts out of here?

Riddle: What are you saying, Malleus-senpai?

Leona: Hey, did you forget? They blocked the cave's entrance.

MC(?): ...

Malleus: However, if there’s a way, we shouldn’t overlook it. As his seniors, Rosehearts’s safety should be our priority.

Riddle: I can defend myself, Malleus-senpai!

MC(?): ...

I wish to protect them... even if it destroys me someday.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I have decided... None of you will fight.

Malleus, Leona, and Riddle: ...

Riddle and Leona: What?

*With their declaration, the doppelgangers grew restless outside the door.*

Idia(?): What did you just say? Are you planning to fight us alone?

Leona(?): After all these dull years, you’re going to take the fun away from us?

Riddle(?): No... Let us in... I've been waiting for this.

Leona: Hey! Herbivore!

MC(?): Please listen carefully.

MC(?): Under no circumstances are you to leave this room. Do not open the door, even if you hear screaming. Hold onto your keys.

MC(?): And...

MC(?): *transforming into a grotesque figure, their flesh torn and blood dripping from countless wounds they had*

MC(?): Don’t save me. *leaves the room, shutting the door almost immediately*

*The three held their breath. After a few seconds, a scream echoed from outside, followed by the sound of flesh being torn apart and angry laughter erupting. Voices shouted to open the door, banging on it furiously.*

Riddle, Malleus, and Leona: ...

Leona: ...Do you hear that?

Malleus: ...

It's okay now... You can open the door.

Riddle: Is that... the Prefect?

Malleus and Leona: ...

Hurry... This is your only chance...

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Is there... any way for us to confirm without opening the door?

Professor Trein(?): No. Keep it closed.

Leona, Malleus, and Riddle: !!!

Leona: How long have you been here?

Professor Trein(?): It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have been able to stay for long anyway.

Malleus: What's going on?

Professor Trein(?): This world is crumbling, and this is the only safe place left for you.

Riddle: What happened to the Prefect?!

Professor Trein(?): ...

Professor Trein(?): I am not sure.

*The knocking has resumed.*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: The person talking to us from behind the door... it’s them, isn’t it?

Professor Trein(?): ...

Professor Trein(?): They might be.

Professor Trein(?): But for now, until you return safely to your world, everything outside this room is sinister.

*Now sobbing can be heard.*

You trust me, don't you..?

Riddle, Malleus, and Leona: ...

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst malleus #twst riddle #twst leona #twst idia #twst trein #twst school of psychopaths

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luvvcho · 3 days ago

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❅・WHISPER OF THE HEART

SYNOPSIS — The three times he tries to tell you, and the one time he actually does.

WC — (2.3k)

CONTENT: SFW, angst (if you squint), hurt/comfort, family issues/neglect (gojo's family is lowkey awful), idk how to make these erm

a/n: hai ^.^ so i lowkey haven’t written since 2021, so pls bear with me as i get back into writing again! also, i’m looking for a beta reader! if you’re interested, you can reach out to me :p m. list | next >

Tokyo, Japan 2005

Gojo's eyes stung from trying to keep a tear or two from rolling down his cheek. He tilted his head slightly, blinking fast as if that might stop them from falling and hoping you wouldn't notice.“They won’t let me in,” he muttered, stepping away from the towering gate of his family’s estate. His voice was light, almost casual if not for the way it cracked at the edges. “Dad’s pissed I missed my English lesson, so I guess I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

Your brows knit together. In the two years you’d known him, you never quite understood how his family worked, only that they were wealthy, controlling, and conditional in their affection. As long as he played the part they expected, they gave him everything. The moment he strayed, even slightly, they turned their backs, and just like every other time, he ended up on either your doorstep or Suguru’s.

His head hung low, but his arm still found its way around your shoulders, pulling you along as he walked away from the gate. You caught a glimpse of his mother in the upstairs window, standing in the supposed warmth of their grand home, watching her son disappear down the street. You opened your mouth to say something, but what was there to say? Instead, you swallowed it down. “Where are we going?”

“Payphone,” he sighed. “Mine’s dead. Gotta ask Suguru if I can crash at his place again.”

Again. This happened too often.

“Stay at mine,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. “It’s my fault you’re home late anyway.”

Gojo glanced at his watch, the golden arms pointing to 6:30. Seven hours ago, he had been standing in front of your teacher, voice sharp, unwavering, as he tore into them for lecturing you about the length of your uniform skirt. You had both landed in after-school detention, but if given the chance, you knew he’d do it all over again.

He shook his head. “Nah. Zenin’s an asshole.”

His dismissal was instant, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers curled just slightly around your shoulder, holding on.You both rounded the corner in silence, leaving behind the towering homes and pristine streets of the Gojos’ gated community.

The cold late-November air bit at your skin, and you tugged your jacket higher, burying the lower half of your face into the fabric. Your mind was surprisingly empty; no lingering thoughts about his family, no plan for what came next. Just the rhythmic sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Unbeknownst to you, the boy beside you was drowning in his thoughts. A million miles a minute, his brain ran wild, tripping over itself. Not about his father slamming the door in his face, not about the house staff refusing him entry, and not about how ridiculously messed up it was that having to sleep somewhere else didn’t even surprise him anymore.

His thoughts fixated on something far more immediate… his arm. His arm which was slung so casually around your shoulders, holding you close against the cold.

He hadn’t even realized it at first. The motion had been instinctual, natural, like muscle memory. But now, the weight of it pressed against him like a revelation.

He had his arm around you.

Sure, you were close. Friends, obviously. Best friends, maybe. But never in a million years did he think he’d be standing like this, side by side, your body tucked under his as if it was second nature. He couldn’t help but think you fit into him perfectly, as if you were meant to be there.

If he looked down, really looked, he’d notice everything he’d been unconsciously curious about since the day he met you. The way your hair caught the dim glow of the streetlights, the way your breath fogged up in the cold, the way your fingers curled into your sleeves for warmth.

And suddenly, his jacket felt way too hot. His grip flexed slightly on your shoulder, fingers twitching before he forced them to still.

This was stupid. Ridiculous. He was Gojo Satoru, for god’s sake. He had girls throwing themselves at him all the time. Not that he ever really cared. But standing here, his heart thudding a little too loud, a little too fast, over something as simple as having his arm around you?

He was so screwed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, snapping him out of whatever strange, faraway thoughts had him so quiet. It wasn’t like Gojo to be this silent. If anything, you were more accustomed to telling him to shut up rather than coaxing words out of him, so it didn’t take long for you to notice something was on his mind.

His head jerks up slightly, caught off guard. “Uh…talk about what?”

You give him a look. He knows exactly what. And when realization flickers across his face, his expression shifts instantly.

“Ohh,” he drawls, lips curling into a smirk. “Are you worried about me? How endearing, I didn’t know you cared about me so much.”

And just like that, he’s back.

“Satoru,” you warn, pulling away from him.

He instantly regrets teasing when the warmth of your body leaves his side. Cold air rushes in between you, and even though it should be a relief, his body still feels uncomfortably warm. But he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his expression even, pretending it’s no big deal

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” you remind him, stepping forward to walk ahead.

He nods, though he doesn’t say anything.

The truth is he doesn’t want to talk about his family. He doesn’t want to talk about how easily they push him away, how conditional their love is, how the weight of their expectations feels like a noose around his neck. His family already has a say in every part of his life, in who he is, in who he’s allowed to be. Hell, he wouldn’t have even met Suguru if it weren’t for them. You were the only thing they hadn’t touched and he refuses to let them ruin you, too.

So silence settles between you. You’re waiting for him to speak, patient as always, but the words never come.

A few minutes pass, the payphone comes and goes behind you, and the scenery transitions from the suburbs into a less wealthy part of Tokyo.

It’s only when the glow of streetlights stretches further down the road that Gojo suddenly speaks again, voice lighter, teasing. “Say it again.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“My name,” he grins, this time not hiding the way he tilts his head slightly toward you, playful curiosity glinting in his blue eyes. “Say it again.”

You sigh, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “Stop being weird. Why should I?”

“I like when you say my name.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s a really weird thing to like.”

He gasps dramatically, pressing a hand over his chest as if you’d just personally offended him. “Don’t make fun of my interests, you wound me!”

A small laugh escapes you despite yourself. “You’re so annoying.”

But you’re smiling, and you notice that Gojo, for some reason, can’t stop staring at you.

The teasing back-and-forth continues, playful insults exchanged between you until you both break into giggles. He plays up his grievous injury by clutching his heart, stumbling as if he’s been struck by your cruel words.

And then—

“Oh, Satoru.”

His head snaps up.

The way you say his name makes something in him trip over itself, and it almost manifests into his exterior world as he stumbles over his own foot.

His first thought is that you’re about to say something important. Something meaningful, something that might make his pulse pick up for reasons he doesn’t yet want to think about.

But then you tilt your head back down the street.

“We passed the payphone a few blocks ago.”

Gojo blinks, momentarily dumbfounded, before breaking into a grin. “Aww, you said my name.”

You groan. “Shut up.”

He hums, pretending to think. “So… do you wanna turn back?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?” he shrugs, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought I was staying with you.”

You open your mouth, then pause. The easy confidence in his voice makes it sound like it was always going to be that way, like it was never even a question in his mind.

“…You sure?” you ask, hesitant now. “I was just kidding earlier. I mean Suguru’s place is closer, and my family might not be home—”

Gojo shrugs. “His parents are family friends. It might not be wise to go there. Plus I like your place better”

It’s simple. It’s honest.

It’s enough to make you roll your eyes and keep walking, but you don’t argue.

Gojo lets himself fall back in step with you, brushing against your side again, this time without wrapping his arm around you. His hands are cold, but the warmth from earlier still lingers.

It was much darker now than when you had left Gojo’s place. If not for the streetlights and the bright glow of the business signs overhead, the night might as well have been pitch black.

A block from your house, the neon light of a convenience store caught your attention. You tugged lightly on Gojp’s sleeve.

“Let’s grab something to eat.”

Gojo hummed in agreement, following you inside. The store was small, the aisles packed tight, and the fluorescent lights buzzed softly above. You made a beeline for the instant ramen section, scanning the shelves.

“What’s the move?” he asked, casually resting his chin on your shoulder from behind.

You stilled at his closeness, your face heating in response.

“Spicy miso,” you said, grabbing two cups. “Unless you wanna cry over beef-flavored sadness.”

He chuckled. “Oh, bold of you to assume I won’t cry anyway.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved the cups into his chest. He caught them easily, grinning as he walked toward the register. You followed, digging in your bag for your wallet, but before you could pull it out, Gojo stopped you with one hand and swiped his card with the other.

“Satoru,” you whined.

“You’re letting me stay the night. The least I can do is buy us dinner.”

You opened your mouth to protest but hesitated when you realized his hands were still on yours. The warmth of his touch lingered a little too long. Before he could notice the scarlet creeping up your neck, you turned away.

“Whatever. I need some air,” you muttered, stepping outside.

Moments later, Gojo followed with two steaming cups of ramen in hand, the convenience store door chiming as he walked through. He settled beside you on the curb, letting the cold night air cool the broth. You both take your first bite.

Gojo nudged his foot against yours. “Y’know, you didn’t have to offer me a place to stay.”

“I know.” You took a careful sip of your broth. “But I did.”

He stared down at his ramen, idly swirling the noodles with his chopsticks. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, rounding out the sharp edges, making the sharp angles of his jawline softer, less untouchable.

You’d always heard girls at school talk about how perfect he was: his looks, his charm, the effortless way he carried himself. But you had never really seen it before. Not like this. Not until now, in the quiet glow of the streetlamp, with the world stripped of its noise.

You were not going to catch feelings for Gojo Satoru. You looked away, shoving the thought aside and focusing back on your food, until something caught your eye.

Tiny white flecks drifted down from the sky, vanishing the moment they met the pavement.

“Satoru, look!” you said, turning back to him, excitement bubbling in your voice. “It’s snowing.”

Gojo lifted his gaze, watching the flurries dance under the streetlights. And then, when he looked back down at you, something in him shifted.

The snow dusted your lashes, melting with every blink, your cheeks were tinged pink (not just from the cold but from being flustered earlier, but this he did not know). And, oh, how he wished he could just tell you how beautiful you were. “Pretty,” he said, quietly. “The snow, I mean.”

You reached up, brushing a few flakes from his hair, laughing softly. “It matches your hair.”

And suddenly, he wanted to say it.

In fact, this was the part where he was supposed to say it.

That you made him feel like home, even when he didn’t have one. That you were the only person who had ever wanted to get to know him. Not his last name, not his status, just him. That he didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, his heart had stopped being his own. That standing next to you, sharing cheap convenience store ramen, in fact doing anything with you, felt more like belonging than anything he’d ever known.

His lips parted.

He whispered your name.

“Mhm?” You looked up at him mid-bite, noodles hanging from your lips.

I love you. I’m in love with you.

But the words get caught in his throat.

He let out a breath, setting his cup down beside him. “You, uh… got something in your teeth.”

You blinked. “Huh? Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Right there.”

You ran your tongue over your teeth before flashing him a grin. “Got it?”

He stared for a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he glanced away. “Yeah. You got it.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Satoru. You’re a good friend.”

He exhaled softly, resting his head atop yours.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Friend. You too.”

And for now, that was enough.

the plot for this has been fully thought out, and i’ll do my best to get the next 3 chapters done as soon as possible, but i am a student and pretty busy.

pls do not copy, repost, or claim my work as your own :) if you have any issues with what i wrote or noticed any mistakes, let me know privately. thank you for reading <3

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen #ill add more later #new to tumblr #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo/reader #jjk fluff #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader

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surielstea · 3 days ago

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Dancing With Fate - III

Read part one and two first!

Pairing: Nyx x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Nyx and Reader are advancing in their relationship, now in the Day court where they can spend time together without fear of getting caught.

Warnings: A little heated kissing but this is just a fluff chapter!

A.Note: Guysss this little series is about to get so good and juicy I promise, also please vote on this poll for what you’d like to see in the next chapter!

Wordcount: 7.5k

The morning I was set to leave, Spring Court's estate felt suffocating. The weight of my father's expectations, the ever-watchful eyes of the sentries, the knowledge that I was slipping away not just for a visit—but for him—pressed down on me. I told myself it wasn't a lie. I was going to see Lucien. I was supposed to be there. But deep in my chest, the bond hummed, whispering truths I couldn't ignore.

I could still feel his lips on mine, the press of his hands at my waist, the quiet promise he had left me with before I winnowed away. Three days. It had felt like an eternity. Now that the time had come, I found myself glancing over my shoulder as I crossed the courtyard, my pulse quickening with every step toward the open lands of Spring.

My father had been surprisingly agreeable when I asked to visit Lucien—perhaps because I rarely asked for anything at all. Perhaps because it was easier for him to believe I sought an escape rather than suspect the truth. Either way, the approval had been granted after minor convincing.

I let out a slow breath, focusing on my destination as I prepared to winnow.

The air shimmered around me, and with a final glance at my home—if it could even be called that—I vanished.

The Day Court was a world of golden light and sprawling dunes, a kingdom carved from the sun itself. I landed on one of its marble pathways, the heat instantly settling over my skin like a second layer. White and gold towers stretched toward the sky, the brilliance of them nearly blinding.

Lucien was already waiting.

He leaned against one of the courtyard pillars, arms crossed, his red hair catching the sunlight in hues of copper and fire. He arched a brow the moment I appeared, pushing off the pillar with a lazy sort of grace.

"You're on time," he mused. "Did the skies part for a miracle, or are you actually excited to see me?"

I rolled my eyes, falling into step beside him as he led me toward the palace. "Don't flatter yourself, Lucien. I'm just desperate for decent company."

His chuckle was warm, genuine, but his sharp gaze flickered over me, assessing. Lucien always noticed more than he let on. "And here I thought Spring Court was finally growing on you."

I scoffed. "Like poison."

Lucien didn't argue. He simply guided me through the sunlit halls, the scent of citrus and sea breeze drifting through the open archways. But I could feel the words he wanted to say pressing against his tongue.

"Go on," I said finally. "Say whatever it is you're thinking before you combust."

He cast me a knowing glance. "You have a look about you."

I blinked. "A look?"

"A very particular look." He stopped in front of a set of golden doors, his expression unreadable. "The kind that usually means trouble."

I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You're imagining things."

"I've known you since you were six," Lucien huffed a quiet laugh, pushing the doors open. "But if you say so."

The throne room was empty when we stepped inside. Not that I expected anything different—Lucien had told me Helion would be absent for the week, handling an issue near the borders. It made my request easier, less complicated.

"How long will I be staying?" I asked, trailing a hand along the intricate carvings of the marble table.

"As long as you need," Lucien answered, his voice easy, but his gaze watchful. "But your father expects a week. Don't get any ideas."

I turned to him, weighing my words carefully. "You did say I could visit whenever I wanted."

"That, I did," he acknowledged. "But I also know you don't make casual trips anywhere. So either you've grown fond of me—" He smirked. "—or there's something else going on."

I hesitated, the bond thrumming softly in my chest. Nyx would be here soon. I could feel it, that gentle pull like a tide calling me home.

"I just need time," I said finally. "Time away from Spring. Time to breathe."

Lucien studied me, his expression softening just slightly. Then he nodded. "Then you'll have it."

Relief flooded through me, but before I could thank him, the air behind me stirred.

The scent of summer rain and star-kissed skies filled the room.

My breath caught.

Lucien's lips twitched, amusement flashing in his russet eye as he glanced past me. "Right. Now this all makes sense."

I turned, and there he was.

Nyx stood in the archway, clad in deep blue, his dark hair tousled by the wind. His sapphire eyes locked onto mine, something unreadable flickering within them.

A slow, lazy smirk curved his lips. "Miss me, princess?"

Lucien let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Cauldron boil me. You do have a look about you."

Nyx didn't hesitate as he crossed the room, moving with that effortless confidence that made it impossible to look away. Like the world had never given him a reason to doubt himself. Like he belonged here, with me.

The bond hummed softly in my chest as he stopped a few feet away, his gaze settling on Lucien with a quiet, knowing amusement.

Lucien, for his part, didn't seem surprised. He just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a sharp look at me. "So. This is why you came."

I winced. "Lucien—"

He held up a hand. "Tell me the truth. How long has this been going on?"

I hesitated, stealing a glance at Nyx, who only smirked. Smug bastard. "It's...new."

Lucien arched a brow. "New?"

"Three days," Nyx supplied unhelpfully, rocking back on his heels. "Well, three days since she kissed me."

Lucien's eye twitched. I swatted Nyx's arm.

"Since we kissed," I corrected.

Lucien's gaze flicked between us, unimpressed. Then he exhaled heavily. "And your parents?"

My stomach twisted. I dropped my gaze, my fingers curling into the sleeves of Nyx's jacket. "None of them know."

Lucien let out a short, humorless laugh. "Gods, just like your parents. Just like them." He ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "Why do both of your families insist on making my life difficult?"

"Lucien—" I started, guilt pressing into my ribs.

"I know, Fawn," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You're good. You're okay."

I exhaled, my shoulders loosening slightly. I hated using Lucien's kindness like this, but I needed this. I needed to be here, needed him.

Lucien gave me a long, considering look before sighing dramatically. "My wife will be thrilled that Nyx is visiting, so I suppose you can stay." He gave a look of acknowledgment to the heir of Night.

Nyx dipped his head in gratitude, but before he could respond, Lucien turned to him fully with a sharp, easy threat. "Though, if you hurt her, and I'll be sending armies to your doorstep."

I groaned. "Uncle—"

"Completely understood," Nyx said, ignoring my protests.

Lucien only huffed, then turned toward the open archway. "Come on, Your Highness, let's get you settled before I regret my entire existence."

Nyx winked at me before following, falling into step beside him as they led me through the sunlit halls.

—

Lucien's home within the Day Court was smaller than the palace itself but no less grand. The rooms were warm, decorated in golds and creams, with sweeping balconies that overlooked the distant dunes.

Lucien pushed open a set of doors, revealing a guest suite. "This is for her," he said pointedly, flicking his gaze to Nyx. "You, however, can take the room down the hall."

Nyx smirked. "Separate rooms? What do you take me for, Vanserra?"

Lucien gave him a deadpan stare. "Someone with a death wish."

I stepped inside before they could continue, rolling my eyes. "You two are worse than children."

Nyx only chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as I took in the space. It was lovely—soft linens, airy curtains, a private balcony that bathed the room in golden light, and a ginormous bathtub sunken into the floor like the room's very own indoor pool. All this for a guest?

I was going to tease Lucien about it but when I turned back, Nyx was watching me carefully.

"We don't have long," he murmured, the humor fading just slightly from his voice.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. "I know."

Lucien cleared his throat. "Right. That's my cue to leave." He shot me a look, something softer beneath his usual exasperation. "Get some rest, Fawn. Meet me for breakfast in the morning."

I nodded, and with one last warning glance at Nyx, he slipped out.

Silence settled.

Nyx didn't move from the door. He just looked at me, something unreadable in his expression.

Three days. Three days without him, and yet the pull between us was stronger than ever.

I let out a slow breath. "I missed you."

Nyx's smile was slow, knowing. He stepped closer, hands bracing on either side of the doorframe. "Yeah?"

My pulse fluttered. But I refused to look away. "Yeah."

Nyx hummed, gaze sweeping over me like he was committing me to memory.

"C'mere then." He gives me one of those signature smirks.

I let go of the grip I had on my dress as I approached him, suppressed smile on my face.

His eyes follow me, watching my every movement as I come closer but not making a move to cross the threshold of my bedroom.

I peer up at him through my lashes, blinking once, twice. Then, "I missed you too," He murmured, leaning down and sealing a gentle kiss to my aching lips.

I pulled away first, and immediately regretted it the moment his lips left mine.

But he moved away, and with a quiet, secretive grin, he murmured, "Come find me when you can't sleep."

And just like that, he was gone.

—

Sleep evaded me.

I had tried—tried curling into the soft sheets, tried counting my breaths, tried pretending the bond wasn't a tangible thing pulling me toward the other side of the hall. But it was no use. The awareness of him, of Nyx, was a whisper against my skin, a constant hum in my chest.

With a soft exhale, I pushed back the covers and slipped out of my room.

The halls were quiet, bathed in moonlight. The Day Court at night had a different kind of beauty—soft, glowing, endless. I made my way toward his room, heart hammering for reasons I wasn't ready to name.

Nyx must have sensed me before I even reached the door, because the moment I lifted my fist to knock, it swung open.

He stood there, leaning lazily against the frame, shirtless, like he had been waiting. His smirk was immediate. "Couldn't stay away, Princess?"

I rolled my eyes, brushing past him into the room and inviting myself in. "Don't flatter yourself."

His room was similar to mine, only slightly smaller, with the same open balcony letting in the cool night air. The scent of him—night-blooming jasmine, crisp wind, something uniquely Nyx—wrapped around me instantly.

I turned just as he shut the door, crossing his arms. "So, what's keeping you up? Me?" His grin was all arrogance.

I huffed. "The bond."

Nyx's eyes darkened slightly, but he still managed a chuckle. "I am the bond, sweetheart."

Heat bloomed in my chest, but I ignored it, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed with a casual grace. "We should talk about it."

Nyx arched a brow. "About how wildly in love with me you already are?"

I tossed a glare at him. He returned it with a laugh, his sapphire eyes somehow beckoning me closer. "Alright," he said, quieter this time. "Let's talk."

I swallowed, unsure where to begin. "Are we...accepting it while we're here?"

Nyx's expression turned thoughtful, something softer creeping into his gaze. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't want to rush you," he said, voice low, steady. "But I also don't want to pretend it's not there."

I nodded slowly. That was the problem. The bond was there, a silent, unyielding thing, urging us closer. Ignoring it felt unnatural. But accepting it—fully—was irreversible. And rejecting it, for some reason, was out of the question.

Nyx must have sensed my hesitation because his lips twitched. "You know," he mused, a grin on his lips that could only mean trouble, "Lucien and Elain's rooms are at the opposite end of the hall."

I blinked, confused. "And?"

He smirked. "So if there are any... aftereffects of us accepting the bond, they won't hear a thing."

Heat flooded my face. "Nyx."

He grinned. "Just saying, if you're worried about keeping them up—"

"Nyx." I smacked his arm, and he just laughed, catching my wrist with ease.

With a soft tug, he pulled me forward until I was standing between his legs. My breath hitched as he peered up at me, his grip warm, steady.

"You're overthinking it," he murmured.

I bit my lip tentatively. "It's a lot to think about."

His hands slid up my arms, slow and careful, like he was mapping out the places he could touch, where I would let him. "Then don't think," he whispered. "Just...stay."

I hesitated.

Then, finally, I let out a breath and climbed onto the bed beside him.

Nyx shifted easily, stretching out against the pillows, one arm behind his head as he watched me settle in. "See? Not so bad."

I rolled onto my side, facing him. "Don't get used to this."

"Too late," he said, grinning.

A comfortable silence stretched between us, the weight of the bond settling into something warm, something oddly familiar.

Then—

"What if we did accept it?" I asked softly, tracing patterns into the sheets with a fingertip.

Nyx was quiet for a moment. When I glanced up, his gaze had softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"I think," he murmured, reaching over to brush his knuckles against my cheek, "it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

His thumb skimmed the corner of my mouth, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.

"Like something I don't ever want to stop."

A shiver ran through me, but I forced myself to scoff. "You're so dramatic."

He chuckled, his hand drifting away, but not before his fingers brushed against my wrist, lingering. "You love it."

I did. I really, really did.

Nyx was still watching me, his expression unreadable but utterly devastating. His fingers, still barely brushing against mine, curled slightly, testing.

I should have pulled away. Should have ignored the way the space between us felt unbearable, like a string stretched too tight, ready to snap.

Instead, I turned my hand over, letting our fingers fully intertwine.

Nyx inhaled sharply.

His other hand lifted, tracing the shape of my jaw before tilting my chin up ever so slightly. His touch was featherlight, like he was waiting for me to pull back, to stop this before it started.

I didn't. I couldn't.

His eyes darkened, and I barely had time to take a breath before his lips brushed against mine.

Soft, at first. A question. I answered by pressing closer, hand against his hard chest.

Nyx groaned, low in his throat, and then he was kissing me in earnest, his hand sliding to cup the back of my neck, pulling me flush against him.

Heat curled through me, my body igniting at the sheer rightness of it—of him. His lips moved against mine with slow, devastating precision, coaxing, deepening.

I gasped as his teeth grazed my lower lip, and he took the opportunity to press even closer, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a way that had my fingers running up his nape and tangling in his hair, pulling, needing.

Nyx growled softly, his grip tightening, his body shifting so that I was beneath him now, the weight of him pressing into me in the most delicious way.

I should have stopped him. Should have reminded him that Lucien and Elain were likely eavesdropping, that this wasn't what we came here for.

But all I could do was gasp against his lips, drowning in him as he kissed me like he'd been waiting a lifetime to do so.

And maybe he had.

The tether between us hummed, alive, crackling like a storm ready to break. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning for something I wasn't sure I was ready for—but gods, did I want it.

Nyx pulled away just enough to press his forehead against mine, his breaths ragged, uneven. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

I didn't say anything.

Because I didn't want him to stop.

Instead, I tightened my grip in his hair and kissed him again.

Nyx practically purred, deepening the kiss instantly, his hands sliding down my sides, gripping my waist like he was trying to anchor himself. I whimpered as he tilted my head back, his lips tracing a path along my jaw, down my throat—

I shuddered. "Nyx—"

He froze, his breathing heavy. "Too much?"

I hesitated, my mind hazy, body thrumming, aching. I didn't want to stop, didn't want this night to end—but I knew if we kept going, if I let him keep kissing me like this, there would be no turning back.

Slowly, I nodded.

Nyx let out a shaky breath, then pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before rolling onto his back, dragging me with him. His arm curled around my waist, keeping me tucked against his side.

I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. His heart was racing.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured against my hair, pressing a final kiss to my forehead.

I exhaled softly, my body still humming, my lips still tingling, my heart still pounding.

But as Nyx's warmth surrounded me, as his arms tightened slightly around me, I found that—for the first time all night—I was finally at peace.

And sleep came easily.

The warmth of the Day Court sun streamed in through the open balcony doors, golden light spilling over the plush bedding and dancing across the smooth marble floors. A gentle breeze carried the scent of citrus and wildflowers, and the distant sound of birdsong filled the air—soft, melodic, impossibly peaceful.

I stretched beneath the silk sheets, the remnants of sleep clinging to my limbs. Nyx's steady breathing was warm against my neck, his arm a heavy weight draped over my waist. The bond hummed between us, quiet, content.

Carefully, I slipped from his grasp, his fingers twitching slightly in protest but aside from that he didn't stir.

I smiled to myself, watching as he burrowed further into the pillows that likely smelled of me, the golden light turning his midnight-dark hair almost copper in the morning glow.

For a male who spent so much time under the stars, he certainly slept through the hours of night like a log.

Shaking my head fondly, I padded across the room, stepping out into the hallway and making my way back to my own quarters across the hall.

The Day Court truly was beautiful in the morning—the soft glow of the sun filtering through sheer golden curtains, the air crisp and warm all at once. By the time I reached my room, I was fully awake, the peaceful hum of the court settling over me like a second skin.

I dressed in a white silk gown, the fabric flowing like liquid over my frame, cinched at the waist with a delicate golden belt. My jewelry was plentiful—thin, glimmering chains draped over my collarbones, golden cuffs sliding up my arms, rings adorning my fingers.

I had just finished fastening the final piece of jewelry when the door behind me creaked open.

I caught his reflection in the mirror before he could even enter.

Nyx stood in the doorway, his hair an absolute mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. He hadn't bothered with a shirt, his bare chest golden in the sunlight, the tattooed whorls of the night sky on his skin dark against the warm glow. He was beautiful—in that utterly devastating, ruinous kind of way.

He said nothing as he crossed the room, his steps slow, languid, his body still half-asleep.

Then his arms were sliding around my shoulders, his bare chest pressing against my back, his face tucking into the crook of my neck. His lips brushed against my skin—soft, lingering.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I smiled, meeting his gaze in the mirror as he sighed against my skin. "You are such a night owl."

One of his hands trailed up my arm, fingers ghosting over the golden cuffs there. "That's because I am Night," he grumbled. "It's unnatural for me to be awake this early."

I huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to lace my fingers with his where they rested on my shoulder. "And yet, you're awake."

"I wouldn't be if you hadn't abandoned me." His lips brushed over my throat again, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have breakfast with Lucien," I reminded him, though the words were already losing their strength.

Nyx hummed, as if considering coercing me out of that particular plan. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers curling around my waist as he exhaled against my skin. "Or," he suggested, his voice a low murmur, "you could stay."

I turned in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, "I'll be back soon."

Nyx sighed, dramatically, his hands tracing slow circles along my back. "You're cruel," he muttered.

I grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You'll live."

"Debatable."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could move, he kissed me again—slow, lazy, lingering. By the time he pulled away, I had half a mind to actually abandon breakfast.

But I forced myself to step back, smoothing my gown as I gave him a knowing look. "Go back to sleep, Night Prince."

Nyx smirked, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that was far too awake for someone who had been dead to the world only minutes ago. "You'll come find me after?"

I nodded. "I'll come find you after."

Seemingly satisfied, he took a slow step backward, his lips twitching. "Enjoy breakfast, princess," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't miss me too much."

I barely resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him as I slipped out the door.

The Day Court's dining terrace overlooked a sprawling garden, the morning sunlight painting the marble floors in warm golds and soft whites. A faint citrus breeze carried through the open-air space, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread, honeyed fruit, and roasted coffee.

Lucien was already seated at the table, a cup of tea in one hand, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"Good morning, Fawn," he greeted, setting his cup down as I slid into the chair across from him.

I sighed, reaching for a slice of peach from the array of food laid before us. "I knew I should have stayed in bed."

Lucien chuckled, reaching for his own plate. "You wound me. I would have thought you'd missed me."

"I did," I admitted, which earned me a pleased look. "But I also knew that my first morning here would be spent with you poking at me like a bored hound with a bone."

Lucien hummed, popping a grape into his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. "You make it sound so terrible."

I gave him a dry look. "You live for gossip."

"And you have been supplying me with an endless amount of it," he countered, flashing a sharp grin. "You and the heir to the Night Court, sneaking around behind your father's back?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to send a letter to Tamlin about this?"

I nearly choked on my tea. "You wouldn't."

Lucien's russet eye twinkled with mischief. "Wouldn't I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but there was no real threat in my stare. He was teasing—mostly. "You wouldn't because I'm your favorite."

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. "You think that's enough to keep me quiet?"

I plucked a croissant from the basket, tearing off a piece with deliberate slowness. "I also brought Nyx with me, which means Elain is getting a visit from her favorite nephew," I said sweetly. "And I doubt she'd be pleased if his visit was cut short by some ill-timed news reaching Spring."

Lucien raised a brow, amused. "Using my wife against me? Low blow."

"You leave me no choice."

He chuckled, shaking his head before taking a sip of his tea. "Fine, your secret is safe with me. For now."

I exhaled in relief, but he wasn't done.

"So," he continued, smirking, "do you always sneak into his bed, or was last night a special occasion?"

I set my croissant down with exaggerated care. "You are insufferable."

Lucien grinned, positively delighted. "Oh, come now. I'm merely curious."

I sighed, shaking my head. "And here I thought you wanted to talk about Spring."

Lucien's expression didn't shift, but I saw the flicker of something—wariness, perhaps, or exhaustion—pass through his russet eye before he settled back into that smooth, unbothered demeanor.

"You want to talk about Spring?" he mused, sipping at his tea. "Now that's a first."

I hesitated, fingers toying with the edge of my napkin. "It's been... stable?"

Lucien huffed a quiet laugh. "Stable is one word for it."

I lifted a brow, silently urging him to continue.

He sighed, swirling his tea in his cup. "Your father is as he always is. Withdrawn. Distrustful. Trying to mend what little he has left, though his attempts have been... half-hearted, at best." A pause, then a softer, "He does love you, you know. Don't take that for granted."

I looked down at my plate, a strange weight pressing against my ribs. "I know, I try not to. I love him too."

Lucien sighed, setting his cup down. "Well, that was depressing."

I let out a weak laugh, grateful for the shift in subject. "You brought it up."

"Yes, but now I regret it," he muttered before shooting me a sidelong glance, that familiar smirk returning. "Luckily, we have a much juicier topic to discuss."

I groaned. "Lucien—"

He ignored my warning tone, lips twitching. "How was sleeping with the Night Court's heir?"

"I hate you."

"Did you snuggle?" He grinned. "You did, didn't you?"

I picked up my spoon, debating throwing it at his head.

Lucien laughed, positively beaming. "Oh, this is delightful."

"You are the worst."

"I am," he agreed, unbothered. "But I'm also right."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I am never telling you anything ever again."

Lucien simply smiled, far too pleased with himself.

And somehow, despite his relentless teasing, breakfast was... nice. Easy, even.

Lucien had always been that way—quick-witted, sharp-tongued, but warm beneath it all. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to enjoy that warmth, even as he smirked knowingly over the rim of his tea cup.

The soft pad of footsteps against marble had me glancing up just as Elain entered the terrace, sunlight catching in the golden waves of her hair. She was radiant in the morning glow, dressed in a pale yellow gown that complemented the warmth of her brown eyes.

Lucien's teasing stopped instantly.

His gaze softened, his entire being seeming to realign as he turned toward his mate. The smug amusement he had wielded so effortlessly moments ago melted into something quieter, something devotional, as if Elain were the only thing in existence.

"Good morning, my love," Lucien greeted, rising smoothly to pull out a chair for her.

Elain smiled at him, a soft, knowing thing, before placing a kiss on his cheek and settling into her seat. "Good morning," she replied before glancing at me, her expression warm. "I'm so happy you're here."

I smiled back, genuinely. "I'm happy to be here."

She took a sip of tea before asking, "What do you have planned for today?"

I glanced at Lucien, who was too busy staring at his mate to contribute to the conversation, then looked back at Elain with an amused huff. "That depends on what there is to do in the Day Court."

Elain brightened. "Oh, there's so much. The markets are always lovely in the mornings, and later today there will be a performance in the amphitheater—music, dance, sometimes storytelling, depending on the day. We could also visit the gardens."

At that, Lucien seemed to shake himself from his daze just long enough to say, "She loves the gardens."

Elain laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I do."

The moment their hands touched, Lucien's thumb traced small circles over her knuckles, his russet eye drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in ages, as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

I looked away, feeling like an intruder on something sacred.

Instead, I focused on my tea, swirling it in my cup before Elain's next words had me stiffening.

"And what about you?" she asked gently. "What do you have planned with Nyx?"

Lucien tensed beside her at the mention of his nephew but, surprisingly, didn't interrupt.

I hesitated before answering. "I... don't know yet."

Elain tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You two seem happy."

A small, shy smile tugged at my lips despite myself. "It's... new."

Her expression softened. "New can be wonderful."

I glanced at Lucien then, at the way his entire world seemed to orbit Elain, at the ease with which they simply existed together.

They had a love that was constant, unshaken. One that didn't need to be loud or demanding, because it was felt—in the way Lucien always reached for Elain without thinking, in the way she always seemed to understand him without words.

I wanted that.

I wanted something sure. Something safe. Something like them.

Elain must have seen something in my expression, because she reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "You'll find your way," she assured me, voice as soft as the morning light.

I swallowed, nodding. "I hope so."

Breakfast ended not long after, Lucien and Elain caught in their own little world as I excused myself.

I walked back to my room slowly, heart and mind tangled in thoughts of what I wanted—of him.

And of whether or not we would ever have something like the love I had just witnessed.

I pushed open the door to my room, the silk of my gown whispering against the marble floor as I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was the mess of dark hair sprawled across my pillows, the sheets tangled around long limbs and bare skin.

Nyx had crawled into bed. My bed.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You do know you have your own room, right?"

A low, sleepy groan rumbled from the depths of my blankets, his face still buried in my pillow. "Too far," he mumbled.

I snorted. "It's across the hall."

"Exactly," he sighed dramatically, cracking one sleepy eye open. His voice was heavy with drowsiness, warm and lazy in a way that made something in my chest tighten. "Besides, your bed smells better."

I raised a brow. "That's not a compliment if you're just stealing."

He grinned, stretching like a cat before reaching a hand out for me. "Come here."

"Absolutely not."

His lips tilted into something smug. "Oh?"

"Nyx, it's nearly noon."

"So?" He patted the space beside him. "Come lay down."

I laughed, shaking my head as I stepped closer to the bed. "You are so lazy."

"Excuse me," he feigned offense, propping himself up on an elbow, hair a tousled mess. "I am strategic in my rest."

I huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed, but the moment I did, he was moving—strong arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me down beside him.

"Nyx!" I yelped, but he only laughed, tucking his face into the crook of my neck.

"There we go," he murmured, his lips pressing against my skin in a way that was entirely unfair. "Much better."

I sighed, pretending to be put out even as I melted into the warmth of him. "You are impossible."

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my jaw. The argument died in my throat.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against my skin, his voice still thick with sleep. "Does every court suit you? Or are you just naturally perfect?"

A rush of heat curled in my chest. "Flattery will not get you out of trouble."

He hummed, brushing his nose along my cheek before stealing a kiss from my lips. "Five minutes," he mused, brushing another kiss over the corner of my mouth. "Just five and then we can get up."

"Fine. Five minutes." I lean into him, melting into the warmth that was his skin.

He kissed me again, slower this time as if savoring the remnants of whatever sweetness still lingered. "Lucien didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

I huffed a laugh, playing with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Lucien is always a menace."

Nyx chuckled, his breath warm against my lips. "I bet he was insufferable."

"He was fine," I admitted, tracing a lazy pattern against his bare shoulder. "Elain joined us."

He tilted his head, brows lifting slightly. "Oh?"

I nodded. "She asked about you."

His lips curled. "And what did you say?"

"That you are insufferable, whiny, and prone to excessive dramatics."

Nyx gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Whiny?"

I grinned. "You are."

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "So harsh, princess."

I laughed, but the sound faded as he brushed his fingers over my cheek, his expression softening. "Did you sleep well?"

I hesitated before nodding. "I did."

"Good." He kissed me again, slow and sweet, his thumb brushing against my jaw. "I like waking up with you—even though you left me before I could."

Something inside me melted at the confession, at the sincerity in his voice.

I bit my lip, trying to fight back a smile. "You're so soft when you're sleepy."

He groaned, flopping onto his back. "And the moment is ruined."

I laughed, rolling onto my side to look down at him. "Come on, Nyx. Admit it."

His arm flung over his eyes. "Never."

I grinned, leaning down to press a teasing kiss against his jaw. "I like it."

His breath hitched slightly, but his arms wound around me again, pulling me closer.

And as I settled into the warmth of him, into the safety of his embrace, I realized—this, whatever we were becoming, whatever this bond between us was shaping into—felt new and foreign.

But gods, it was lovely.

After fifteen minutes Nyx still had me caged against him, his arms wrapped securely around my waist as if he had no intention of letting me leave. Every time I so much as shifted, his grip tightened, and a pleased hum rumbled in his throat.

"Nyx," I warned, pressing my hands against his bare chest, though my voice lacked any real heat.

"Mmm," he murmured lazily, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin. "Five more minutes."

I huffed, though the way my body betrayed me—melting into his warmth, my fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders—was not helping my case. "You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"I don't recall."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "You're impossible."

He lifted his head slightly, his messy dark hair falling into his sleepy eyes. "And yet, you're still here."

I scowled at him, but it was utterly ineffective given the way my face was burning.

His grin widened. "You like this."

"No, I don't."

Nyx hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't." Then, as if to prove his point, he kissed me—slow and indulgent, his lips warm and sure against mine. My breath caught, my fingers tightening against his skin.

His hands roamed lazily, tracing along my waist, my back, settling just beneath the curve of my ribs. "You're so soft," he mused between kisses, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. "So warm."

I glared at him, my face burning. "You're so full of yourself."

His chuckle was dark and teasing. "Only because you make it so easy, Princess."

I groaned, flopping onto my back as he propped himself up on an elbow, hovering over me with a stupidly satisfied expression. "You are so lucky left my daggers in Spring."

Nyx only grinned, dipping down to nip at my jaw, his voice warm with amusement. "I'd like to see you try."

I shoved at his shoulder, but he barely budged. His weight was solid and steady against me, and I knew—knew—that I could have pushed him away if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Nyx's fingers skimmed along my arm, down to my wrist, to where he laced our fingers together. "Are you going to stay here with me?"

"I have things to do, you know."

"Like what?" He raised a brow, his nose brushing against mine. "Surely nothing more interesting than me."

I snorted. "You'd be surprised."

He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now that is just cruel."

I rolled my eyes, lifting a hand to comb through his messy hair, smoothing it back. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch, and my heart did something ridiculous in my chest.

I swallowed, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. "You're so clingy."

His eyes opened, a lazy smirk curling his lips. "And you love it."

I huffed, but my lips twitched despite myself. "Maybe a little."

Nyx's expression softened, his fingers brushing my cheek as he leaned in. "Good."

His mouth pressed against mine again, stealing whatever breath I had left. My heart raced, my fingers fisting in the fabric of the sheets as his hand traced down, over the silk of my gown, teasing along my thigh. His touch burned—not in a way that made me want to pull away, but in a way that made me want more.

And that should have terrified me. It didn't.

It only made me want to hold onto him tighter, to let myself fall.

I exhaled shakily when he finally pulled away, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. He was still watching me, waiting.

And gods, I knew. I knew.

The mating bond shimmered between us, pulsing, undeniable. I could feel it, pulling me closer to him with every breath, every heartbeat.

I wanted it.

Screw that our parents didn't know. Screw that this would be irreversible. That once we accepted it, there was no undoing it, no way for them to separate us even if they tried.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of what that meant.

"Nyx?"

"Princess?" he drawled, his voice thick with warmth, teasing as he brushed his fingers over my wrist.

I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Can you teach me how to block you out of my head?"

Nyx's lips twitched. "You mean my Daemati powers?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He hummed in thought, tilting his head. "Of course. Though, why the sudden interest?"

I kept my expression carefully neutral, knowing full well he'd see right through me if I wasn't careful. "Just seems like a good skill to have."

Nyx studied me for a long moment before his lips curved in amusement. "You're a terrible liar."

I scowled. "Am not."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Alright, alright. Come here."

I let him shift us so I was sitting cross-legged in front of him, his hands resting lightly on my knees. His gaze softened, the usual teasing glint dimming just slightly as he said, "I want you to imagine a wall in your mind. Something strong. Something unbreakable."

"A wall," I repeated, frowning.

"Yes. Picture it. And then focus on reinforcing it. Make it thick, make it impenetrable." His thumb traced circles against my knee as he watched me carefully.

I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly as I tried to summon that wall.

"Good," he murmured. "Now, I'm going to push just a little—try not to let me in."

I gritted my teeth as I felt the gentle probing at the edges of my mind. It was strange—like a featherlight touch, testing the defenses I'd barely managed to put up.

"Your wall is shaky," Nyx noted, the laughter in his voice evident. "I could break through it in an instant."

I cracked an eye open to glare at him. "You're so encouraging."

He grinned. "I'm just being honest."

I huffed, closing my eyes again and focusing, really focusing, on that barrier. I imagined thick, towering walls, impenetrable and unwavering. I strengthened them, bracing them against his presence.

Nyx hummed in approval. "Better."

A moment passed.

Then another.

And then—

"Huh," he muttered.

I opened my eyes to find him blinking at me, mildly impressed. "What?"

"You actually did it." He tapped his temple. "Can't hear a thing."

I grinned, triumphant. "Told you I could do it."

Nyx chuckled, his hands sliding up to my waist as he pulled me toward him. "I could still break it." He makes clear. "But now I can't hear em' unless I want to."

I smiled softly, "Good enough for me."

Then he kissed me.

Slow and deep, as if savoring the taste of victory along with me. His hands traced up my spine, his touch warm and steady as he pressed me closer. I melted into him, tilting my head to give him better access as his lips moved against mine with aching patience.

It was a reward, and I greedily took it.

When we finally parted, his lips trailed down my jaw, over the sensitive skin of my neck. "I should teach you things more often," he murmured against my skin, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

I swatted at his shoulder, but it was weak at best. "Behave."

He laughed, the sound muffled against my throat as he kissed a slow path back up to my mouth. "Not a chance."

I sighed, allowing myself to collapse onto the mattress, tugging him down with me. Nyx followed willingly, draping himself over me as if he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

"So," he mused, his lips brushing my shoulder, my collarbone, my jaw. "What do you want to do today?"

We eventually collapsed back onto the bed, tangled together. His hands roamed lazily, his lips finding every inch of bare skin he could reach. Between kisses, we murmured about what we could do today—halfheartedly listing off places we knew we wouldn't go, tasks we knew we wouldn't complete.

"We could go for a ride?" I suggested idly.

Nyx hummed, lips brushing my collarbone. "Mmm, sounds nice." His fingers traced circles on my hip. "Or we could stay right here."

"Lazy," I teased, though I had no intention of moving either.

He nipped at my shoulder in retaliation, making me squeak. "Not lazy," he corrected. "Just—" He kissed the corner of my mouth. "Comfortable." Another kiss on my cheek. "Perfectly, completely comfortable."

My heart thudded, my fingers tightening around his bicep. I could still feel the bond shimmering between us, waiting.

Waiting for me. Because he seemed to have already decided that accepting it was his only choice, the only one he'd acknowledge at least.

Nyx pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft, but unreadable. "What?" he murmured.

I swallowed hard, smoothing my hand over his chest. "Nothing," I whispered.

Not yet.

He searched my face, but I knew he wouldn't find anything—not now. Because I had learned how to block him out. Because the next time I opened my mind to him, it would be on my terms. A choice. A gift.

Nyx pressed one last kiss to my lips before sighing, letting his head drop against the pillow. I curled into his warmth, letting my eyes drift shut, a secret burning in my chest.

The next time I let him in would be when I was ready to accept the bond. And I wanted it to be somewhat of a surprise.

Which meant he had to stay out of my mind—just for a few days. Just long enough for me to do what I had already decided.

What I knew I wanted.

I glanced at him then, at the male who had stolen my heart in the span of a few weeks, at the way he watched me with that easy, knowing smirk—completely unaware of what was coming.

A slow smile curled on my lips.

What I wanted.

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ditzydoe444 · 7 hours ago

Note

what about sacrificial lamb!reader who's ritualistically bestowed to Lucifer!Jason

MDNI 18+

lucifer! jason x sacrificial lamb! reader

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ jason todd x reader ಿৎ

▐ fingering, innocent reader

a/n: this request made my jaw drop because it’s so good, but jason is kinda nice in this one so i hope i did it justice :((

you were a pretty thing, innocent and untouched, and yet you were handed to him. a pathetic sacrificial lamb, given to him. your eyes were wide as you kneeled in front of him, your eyes downcast. “look at me pretty girl,” his tone cold and sharp, making you shake even more, fidgeting with your nails. you nodded, eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

it was adorable how scared you were, nothing but a flimsy white dress that barely covered anything, giving him a glimpse of your plush thighs. “come here,” he patted his thighs, “on my lap so we can talk alright? since you are mine now.”

you couldn’t even walk to him without almost tripping on your own feet, he was so big he could crush you with his hands alone. the moment you came close enough to his grasp he pulled you into his lap, his hands gently rubbing your waist. “names jason,” he whispered as he snuggled into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, almost sickening.

“can you say that for me?” he promoted, his gaze burning into yours as you nodded, not wanting to disobey him on the first day. “jason,” you mumbled barely audible but gaining a small hum of approval from him. “i must say, you smell sickly sweet,” he groaned as his hands traced up your body, which was significantly smaller than his.

despite how horrifying the situation was for you, you couldn’t help but to be a little turned on. you were now his, a big large man who controlled you, but yet he was treating you like you were the most precious thing in the world, his touch gentle as he explored your body. you secretly hoped that he couldn’t smell your arousal, though clearly you were wrong.

gently, his calloused hands separated your legs, tracing your inner thigh. “what is this sweetheart?” he cooed at the small damp spot on your cotton panties, gently tracing it feeling the slight wetness on his fingers. “mm,” you whined as you tried to hide the pleasure, your cheeks burning. “what was that?” he cooed as he gently probed a response, “you enjoying this? being a sacrificial lamb?”

jason thought that you would be crying and running away, but clearly you were just as entertained as he was, his cock straining his pants. “well a sweet girl like you has needs no?” his voice low as his touch became slightly rougher, applying more pressure on your clit. “nngh,” you squirmed on his lap, the sensation was new but so much, and it felt so good.

“how about i help you with this little situation yeah?” his fingers gently pushing your panties to the side, admiring the sight of your bare cunt. “girls have needs no?”

the ache in between your legs was a new sensation, it was burning whenever he stopped touching you, making you slightly grind on his thigh, earning a low chuckle. “desperate?”

his fingers glistened with your arousal within seconds, the sweet smell filling the room making him slightly hazy, he was pretty damn sure he could get drunk off it. “‘m gonna make you feel good alright?”

“please” you whimpered when he entered a finger, you were a virgin, so that alone was enough to cause a slight burn. you were so tight, gripping tightly on his finger, jason couldn’t help but to wonder what you would feel like around his cock.

within a few minutes your cunt relaxed slightly, taking three of his large fingers with ease as he pumped in and out of your cunt. “mm!” you moaned as your head tilts back, on his chest. “needy thing aren’t you? they didn’t pay attention to you back there?”

god he was going to corrupt a sweet girl like you.

#jason todd #ch: jason #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #dc smut #jason todd x y/n #dc jason todd #dc jason todd smut

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ravensuperr · 1 day ago

Text

Danny Valentine's mess

The usual buzz of homeroom was in full swing when Danny pulled his books from his backpack, only for a small red envelope to slip out and land on his desk. Star, who was sitting nearby, immediately took notice.

"Ooooh, Danny, you got a Valentine’s Day card!" she teased, reaching for it before Danny could stop her. "Who’s it from?"

Danny blinked at the envelope. "I have no clue."

Dash, always eager for gossip, snatched it up before Star could open it. "Let’s see what we got here," he said, dramatically clearing his throat before reading aloud. "Danny Fenton, I’ve admired you for so long—"

He suddenly stopped, frowning. "Wait… why is this typed? And in Times New Roman?"

Tucker leaned over, taking a quick photo of the letter with his PDA. "Yup. Black ink. Default font. Bro, if you’re gonna type a love letter, at least switch up the color, add a cute font, or do something creative. This looks like an essay. Where’s the personality?" He shook his head in disappointment.

Paulina, who had been listening, sighed dramatically. "As much as it pains me to agree with Foley, he’s right. A love confession is supposed to be personal! You put effort into making it stand out, not make it look like an MLA-formatted assignment."

"Exactly!" Star nodded. "Like, where are the little hearts? The cute doodles? This person clearly likes you, but they could’ve at least signed their name."

Danny sighed, taking the letter back. "I mean, it’s sweet, but yeah, kind of weird they didn’t personalize it more."

Tucker suddenly smirked. "Maybe it’s from Amy."

The entire group froze before a chorus of confused voices filled the air. "Amy?" "Wait, Amy?" "Who’s Amy?"

Dash’s eyebrows shot up. "Dude, you dated an Amy? Since when?"

Danny, looking a little flustered, rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. Back in sixth grade."

Tucker, now enjoying the reactions, grinned. "Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it. Danny’s had three ex-girlfriends."

Silence. Then—

"Three?!" Multiple voices rang out in shock.

"You? Had three girlfriends?" Kwan asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"I mean, yeah?" Danny shrugged. "It’s not like I go around bragging about it."

"Wait, wait, wait," Paulina interrupted, flipping her hair. "Who are these girls? I demand details."

Danny sighed, realizing there was no escape. "Alright, fine. So, first, there was Amy. We dated for most of sixth grade, but she broke up with me in May."

"Dang, almost a full year?" Star raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Danny shrugged. "Never really got a straight answer, honestly. Just that she thought it was best if we broke up."

Tucker crossed his arms. "And then there was Rei."

"Who?" Sam finally spoke up, her voice controlled.

"Rei was my summer girlfriend," Danny explained. "We met while she and her family were staying in Amity Park for the summer. When she found out her dad’s job was supposed to move them here, she was super excited. But at the last minute, her dad lost the job offer, and they had to go back to Japan. We broke up right before she left. I gave her a necklace as a goodbye gift."

"Okay, that’s actually kind of sweet," Paulina admitted.

"And then," Tucker continued, "there was Heather."

This got the biggest reaction.

"Wait, wait, wait—Heather?" Star practically choked. "As in Heather Heather? Ice-skating champion, fluent in five languages, exchange program star, that Heather?"

"The same Heather who got a dog from the Prime Minister of China?" Dash added, eyes wide.

Danny groaned. "Yes, that Heather."

The room exploded.

"DUDE!" Kwan shouted. "How do you date Heather and not talk about it?!"

"It was eighth grade!" Danny protested. "It’s not like we advertised it!"

"Still, you were dating the girl everyone thought was gonna take over the world! How did it even happen?"

Danny smiled a little. "Honestly? Heather liked being around me because I didn’t put her on some pedestal. She was always under pressure to be perfect, but when we hung out, she could just be herself. I introduced her to music she loved, and she enjoyed listening to me rant about stars and NASA. She even had a wallpaper of me looking at the stars because she thought it was cute."

Paulina placed a hand over her heart. "That’s actually adorable."

"Yeah," Danny admitted. "We dated for a while, but… she broke up with me, too."

The room fell quiet for a moment.

"Wait," Star said slowly. "Amy broke up with you. Rei broke up with you. Heather broke up with you. They all said you were, like, the best boyfriend they had… and yet they all broke it off? That doesn’t make any sense."

Danny frowned slightly. "I mean, I never really thought about it. I don’t sit around analyzing my breakups, you know?"

Tucker muttered, "Except on Valentine’s Day."

Meanwhile, Sam had gone silent, her fingers gripping her desk as a memory surfaced—a confrontation from months ago.

Heather’s cold, knowing stare.

"I know what you did, Sam. I know you made Amy break up with Danny. I know you somehow had a hand in Rei’s father losing that job offer. And now I had to break up with him, too. So tell me—what’s your endgame here? Sooner or later, Danny’s going to figure it out. And when he does, and you get called out for your toxic behavior, I hope I’m there to take a photo of your face. Because I will not let you forget what you did."

Sam swallowed hard.

Heather was the girl who could stop any rumor. The one who could read people like a book. If she had put the pieces together, how much longer before Danny did, too?

She clenched her fists under the desk.

"Sam?" Star called, pulling her out of her thoughts. "You okay?"

Sam forced a smirk. "Yeah, just… surprised, is all. Didn’t think Danny was such a heartbreaker."

Danny groaned. "Oh, come on! I was not a heartbreaker!"

Dash smirked. "Three exes say otherwise."

Danny slumped in his seat as the teasing continued, but Sam’s mind was elsewhere. Because Heather was right.

And sooner or later, Danny was going to figure it out.

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #dash baxter #paulina sanchez #oneshot #valerie gray #Star ( danny phantom)#Kwan (danny phantom)#danny fenton

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organic-bloodbath · 2 days ago

Text

Knife Princess – Part 6

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: You and Chishiya get trapped in a closed space together, both of you getting strange flashbacks.

Warnings: Claustrophobia, panic attack.

A/N: I didn't plan to write this so fast but i just blacked out when i started writing it.

Chapters

♤♡♧◇

Niragi's friend, Jae-sung, gave you a place to stay for a while until you'd find your own place. It was rather small apartment, but you and Niragi got the room which belonged to Jae-sung's roommate, who apparently would be visiting his in-laws in Korea for three weeks. Or something like that. You and Niragi would have about two weeks to find another place to stay the night.

The room had one single bed, so you slept on it and Niragi would have a mattress on the floor, being the usual gentleman he always was (not). You didn't personally know Jae-sung, but by the first impression you got from him, he seemed nice enough. Not anything like Niragi atleast, but what did you know.

For the first few days you didn't do much else than rest and go for a walk. You met up with couple of your friends, who luckily had been out of Tokyo that significant day. You didn't keep regular contact with them anymore, all of you having your own lives, but hey had immediately reached out to you when they heard you had been one of the victims.

Your boss had given you two weeks to rest and recover, which was more than you were prepared to have. You worked an office job as a graphic designer so you could have easily started the job sooner since you weren't physically restricted to work which was mostly sitting around. But your boss didn't want to take chances on your wounds suddenly getting worse in the middle of a work day. You knew you'd get bored after a few more days, since your social life was overall extremely dry as well.

You had decided to go to the grocery store nearby, craving for something sweet. Cookies, ice cream, chocolate – probably all of them.

You arrived back inside the building, carrying a bag full of groceries with you. You decided to walk up the stairs, your eyes on the screen of your phone, typing a text to your friend. You would have taken the elevator, but it was all the way up on the 9th floor so you'd rather walk up, getting a little exercise too.

But you didn't manage to reach the stairs at all when you crashed on someone's chest, stumbling back but managed to keep your balance. Although, the crash made you drop the bag on the floor by your feet, spilling some of the items out, making you curse under your breath.

You looked up and saw a familiar face in front of you. Well, not exactly familiar, but a face which you'd seen before not long ago.

"We should stop crashing on each other like this," the guy suggested, slight smirk on his face. The same guy who was at the hospital and fell on you the first time you met him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows, and kneeled down on the floor, bare knee touching the cold ground. You started collecting the packages back into the plastic bag.

"Well, i happen to live here," he answered and lowered himself to your level to help you gather the items. "I haven't seen you here before."

"Might be because i haven't been here more than a few days by far. It's just for couple of weeks," you said, making eye contact with him as you stood back up. A small smile appeared on your lips, though you weren't sure if he noticed it. "Don't worry, then i'll be out of your way."

"Your home got destroyed, huh?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, a genuine apologetic look on his face. You didn't want strangers to be sorry for you, but now you kind of appreciated that, surprisingly.

"Thanks," you said quietly and started to leave, walking past him back towards the stairs, like your original intention had been. "Well, i'll be seeing you then, i suppose."

"See you." He was watching after you for a moment, until he spotted something on the floor by his feet. "Hey, Y/N?" the guy shouted after you, making you turn around.

You furrowed your eyebrows as he approached you again.

"You, um, dropped this," he said and handed you a cookie, but you didn't immediately grab it.

"How do you know my name?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He fell silent for a moment, not knowing the answer himself. It had come out of his mouth so naturally he didn't know what to respond. Like he had always known it without needing to ask about it. It had only appeared in his mind just by looking at you.

"Uh, i probably overheard it when you were talking with your brother," he figured out. "Not that i meant to eavesdrop." Maybe he had overheard it but just forgot when it happened? He had always had a good short-term memory and would certainly remember where he had learned your name. Especially since he hadn't known you long at all.

But he didn't remember the reason. No matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn't grasp why he knew it.

"Hm, i guess," you mumbled, feeling suspicious. He was still handing you the cracker.

Stuff these into your pockets, your voice said when you grabbed the cracker into your hand from his hold.

"What?" he asked.

"What what?" you asked.

"What did you say?"

"Um, i didn't say anything," you denied.

He went silent for a moment, just looking at you in your eyes.

"You're a strange man, you know that?"

"So i've heard," he smiled. "I'm Chishiya, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Chishiya," you smiled.

Your smile made his heart flutter and twist his stomach in knots.

You were gone before he could say anything else. Chishiya didn't know how long he kept standing there after you had left, but it took him a while to get himself together and continue his way back to his apartment.

♤♡♧◇

Two days later, you had gone to a library to read for couple of hours, not wanting to stay in Jae-sung's small apartment the entire day. You had visited this library once in a while when you were younger, but hadn't been here in a long time, not after you moved further away from here. Now, you had taken a comfortable position on a couch which was usually taken but was now available to sit.

After a while, someone approached you. You looked up, your heart starting to beat faster when he looked at you.

"Y/N?" the man asked, furrowing his eyebrows but then his eyes brightening. "Hi, how are you doing?"

Your throat felt dry when your one-night hookup was looking down at you.

"Um, fine," you mumbled.

"May i sit?" he asked, pointing the spot next to you on the couch. You only stared at him for a while, until slightly nodded. "What have you been up to?"

"You lied to me," you said quietly, not able to start doing any small talk with him. You weren't going to cause a scene in a damn library but you weren't going to pretend acting friendly either.

"Lied about what?" he asked, genuinely confused. He had seemed to be in a good mood before he approached you, but now it started to fade when he saw the unwelcoming look on your face.

"That we slept together," you gritted between your teeth.

"Um, i already told you," he said. "Nothing happened. For real."

"Okay, so how am i pregnant then?" you spat, anger starting to boil inside you.

His eyes widened. "You're pregnant?"

You crossed your arms against your chest, leaning back against the couch. "Yes, thanks to you."

"I swear, Y/N, we didn't do anything after you told me to stop," he insisted, starting to panic. "I remember it well enough to know that we did stop. After you passed out i simply went to the shower and then fell asleep next to you, okay?"

You eyed him for a moment. He seemed genuine, truly meaning every word, but you weren't buying it. Just because there was simply no other way how you could have become pregnant. If you weren't bearing a child inside you, you might have actually believed him.

"I swear through my mother's grave, hand on my heart, that i did nothing to you. I'd say it directly in front of God," he promised, starting to be desperate, seeing the look on your face – both hurt and angry. He could tell that you weren't so sure to trust him. "Can't you take, like, a paternity test or something if you don't believe me? It's not mine, i promise."

God, how much you wanted to believe him. He looked so serious and genuine it was hard to blame him on things you didn't even remember.

The moments you remembered with him, he had been gentle with you and asked for final permission on everything. When you had said 'no', he had let you go.

"Please," he pleaded. "I did nothing to you. I don't sleep with unconscious women, no matter how wasted i am."

You shut your eyes and held your forehead. How could you believe him when there had been literally nobody else than him?

"I, i came to talk to you now because you forgot a few things in my apartment that day," he said. "I thought i could meet up with you later so i could return them. You just never left your number so i couldn't reach you."

You did forget some of your things in his place but had just accepted the fact that you'd never see them again.

"You can keep them."

"We don't need to hang out, i can just-"

"Keep them, okay?" you insisted and got up from the couch, leaving him to sit by himself without another word.

♤♡♧◇

On your way home, you tried your best to calm down your racing heart and keep your breath steady, but it was turning out to become challenging. You wouldn't be about to cry in public. All you wanted to do now was scream, but you couldn't do that either at a bus stop.

You had promised Niragi to be back at the apartment in about 15 minutes because he wanted to introduce you to his friends and be social, since all you did right now was mostly staying by yourself.

The elevator in this building was ancient and looked like it could break any time soon. The sound of the floor creaking under your feet with every step didn't make you feel very safe either. Still, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to the 6th floor, not having the energy to walk all the way up there.

The door started to slowly close until someone's foot stopped it and opened the door again, letting the person to the elevator as well. You locked eyes with Chishiya.

"You're literally stalking me," you stated as he came to stand next to you. It wasn't a big elevator at all, it was made to fit to exactly four people. Three if you wanted to move a little and not only stand with your arms touching each other, not able to take a step to any direction without stepping on someone's foot.

"We live in the same building," he pointed out.

"And yet i haven't bumped into any other neighbor except you and someone's grandma. You now twice," you said back.

"I suppose we have similar daily routines," he responded.

"Mhm," you said, lifting your left eyebrow and turning away from him.

He was going to the 7th floor, only one floor above you. You didn't speak anything, just stood next to each other in silence, an inch between your shoulders. You felt awkward, but didn't care to start even more awkward small-talk.

You were on the 4th floor, when suddenly the elevator stopped, so hard as if it had hit a wall, making you almost lose your balance.

"What the hell?" you mumbled. The doors didn't open and you assumed you were between two floors. Anyway not able to get out.

You suffered from claustrophobia and being trapped in a small space with no way to get out was one of your worst fears. You had never been a fan of elevators, but you had gotten used to them, as long as you didn't have to stay in one for a long time.

You started breathing more rapidly, feeling like the air was running out and you were going to suffocate. The elevator started shrinking, the walls coming closer to you. Chishiya looked at you, worried look on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

You didn't answer, you were too caught up in the panic attack that was about to start. Your hands were shaking and you just really, really needed to get out of this elevator, starting to hyperventilate. You felt pain on your chest, pressing your trembling hand against your racing heart.

He put his hands on your shoulders, turning you towards him. You avoided eye contact with him at first, looking at the wall over his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Chishiya said, realising what was going on. "Look at me. Y/N, look at me."

You turned your face towards him, allowing yourself to make eye contact with him.

"Take a deep breath in a count of three, okay?"

Your eyes started to water as you looked at him, having a really hard time to take deep breaths and calm down. You tried your hardest, his hands gently rubbing your arms. Eventually you were able to calm down.

"That's good," Chishiya smiled. "You did really good."

"Is it weird if i hug you?" you asked quietly, nervous for his rejection or making him uncomfortable. Chishiya contemplated your request a little bit, until gently wrapped your arms around you, massaging your back with his hand.

Another person's presence and touch always, or most times, managed to calm you down properly. You heard his steady heart beat.

Was there someone else? Or was i... was i your only one?

You pulled away from him, furrowing your eyebrows when you looked at him in his eyes. "What do you mean someone else? We're alone here."

"I didn't say anything about someone else," Chishiya mumbled, furrowing his brows too.

"Yes you did, i heard you," you insisted.

You were always really embarrassed when someone saw you have a panic attack and you could feel your cheeks burning up this time as well, now that you had properly recovered from it and realized the entire situation.

"We've been trapped in this elevator for barely ten minutes and you already start to hallucinate," Chishiya stated. He sounded serious, but the small smile on his lips gave it away, wanting to cheer you up and lighten your mood.

"Shut up," you mumbled and hit his shoulder, his words making you a little amused as well.

"I'm going to make a call to get this thing fixed and us out of here. You okay now?" he asked and after you nodded, he took his phone from his pocket and dialed the correct number.

You were afraid of getting another panic attack if you had to be here for a long time, you didn't want to go through that again in such a short time. At least i'm not alone here, you thought. Right now, you were more than glad that he had put his foot between the door and stepped inside with you, even though it had been awkward at first.

"Alright, they said they'll be here as soon as possible, but it might take a while to get this running again," Chishiya explained turning to look back at you.''

"Amazing," you huffed.

"Hey, it could be worse," he pointed out.

"Mhm, and how exactly?" you asked, crossing your arms against your chest.

"Well, you could be stuck with one old man from the 2nd floor, who doesn't shut up about facts about toilets and bicycles," he answered.

"Toilets and bicycles?" you huffed.

"Yup. So, be glad it's me and not an even stranger man than me."

You looked at him for a moment, until you narrowed your eyes, looking again directly at him. "You sabotaged this thing, didn't you?" You widened your eyes and pointed a finger at him. "I knew you had been flirting with me at the hospital!"

"Hey, even if i wanted to get to know you better i wouldn't go to the length of trapping you in a small space with me," he swore, one hand on his heart and the other up in the air.

"Mhm," you hummed, crossing your arms. Then, you pouted a little, pretending to be upset and tilted your head. "So, you don't want to get to know me better? At all?"

You were incredibly close to each other, a few inches between your bodies.

"Well," he said slowly, glancing at the ceiling for a moment to avoid your intense gaze. "I didn't say that."

"But you implied it."

"You're putting words into my mouth," he stated when he had locked eyes with you again.

He wasn't matching your 'i'm just joking' vibe at all right now.

You eyed him up and down, starting to grin. "You're kind of cute, you know that?"

"Cute?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yup," you confirmed and bit your lip. "Nobody told you that before?"

"Hm, not that i recall." You smiled wider when you noticed his cheeks turn slightly pink.

"So, you figured out already where you know me?" you asked.

He narrowed his eyes. "You admit that we've met?"

"No," you said. "Other strangers just haven't thought before we might know each other – without considering it flirting."

"Well, i haven't found an answer to that yet," he admitted.

"Hm. Well, let me know when you do."

Your phone let a sound of a new text message, making you take your phone from your pocket. You were feeling hot and pulled your sleeves up to your elbows as you took the phone in your hand.

Assface: are you still out? we're running out of beer

When you had exposed half of your arms, the tattoo on your arm was revealed – two knives crossed with each other, surrounded by roses and couple of skulls. It picked Chishiya's attention, making him analyse it with his eyes.

I didn't find a pen and paper. And i'm bored.

Chishiya looked at your face when he heard those words, your lips not moving at all. Not letting out a single syllable. He could swear that he hadn't imagined those words, spoken by your voice in his head, by himself.

I have a second knife, you know.

You turned your face towards Chishiya when he had fallen quiet, noticing his concentrated stare on your lips.

"What, you want to make out?" you asked with a playful smile, then biting your lip.

You put your phone away and backed him against the wall, standing barely an inch away from him, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"We can play 7 minutes in heaven if you want, now that we have enough time to spare."

Chishiya's face turned red, eyes widening. He swallowed the lump in his throat, stomach feeling funny. His usual calm demeanor shifted completely to something else he had very rarely experienced before. Probably never before. He shook his head a little to get a grip of himself.

"Oh, no, i didn't-"

"I'm just kidding," you giggled, enjoying what kind of effect you managed to have on him. "But it's okay, Chishiya, i know i'm pretty," you grinned and put your finger on his chin. "You can admit it."

"I'm not denying that you're pretty but i wasn't thinking of kissing you," he stated as seriously as he could but even he could tell his voice was trembling a little. "I was just, looking at your tattoo."

"My tattoo is on my arm, not on my lips," you hummed, then started to smile. "So you think i am pretty, hm?"

"Will you shut up about that if i say yes?" he asked, resting his head against the wall.

"Maybe, no promises though," you shrugged. "Well?"

"Fine, you're pretty," he admitted. "Now, end of discussion."

You just smiled, turning into pouting right after. "So, no kissing, hm?"

He couldn't help but glance at your lips but then he cleared his throat. "No kissing."

"Fine," you huffed, acting all disappointed even though you were just teasing him, and backed away from him. You sat on the floor, back against the wall, Chishiya sitting down next to you.

"Can i ask you a serious question?" he asked, the tone of his voice to a lot more serious one, he was back at his normal self. You listened to him now with closer attention. "Do you feel any different after the accident?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like," Chishiya started, trying to gather his words together to make sense. "I feel like there's a large piece missing inside me, you know?" You furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't know if that sounds dumb, but-"

"It's not dumb," you interrupted. "I do feel like that too."

"You do?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise.

"I mean, kind of yeah," you admitted, hugging your knees against your chest. "I feel weird. Like there's something crucial i don't remember. I can't really explain it. But i've just figured it's due some survivor's guilt and trauma or whatever, i don't know. I'm just trying to leave the entire thing behind."

Chishiya knew, was absolutely sure, that it was something else than simply survivor's guilt.

"Perhaps," he mumbled and looked into his hands on his lap.

You didn't know how much time passed the two of you being trapped in the elevator, but you'd guess it was anything between 30 minutes to one hour.

Suddenly, the elevator started to move again, startling you so badly that you collapsed against Chishiya, grabbing his shirt on an instinct.

He looked at you, hanging on him, until you turned your head towards his gaze, eyes widening.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, letting him go. "I just got really startled."

"It's alright."

Chishiya stood up and took your hand in his, pulling you up from the floor just as the elevator's door opened.

"Well, i guess this is my stop," you announced, suddenly feeling a bit awkward again, just like the moment in the beginning when Chishiya had stepped into this elevator. "See you around, Chishiya."

"See you around, Y/N."

♤♡♧◇

You walked inside the apartment, Niragi and two of his friends sitting at the table, playing cards together and drinking beer. Apparently they had found more beer somewhere after all.

"What took you so long?" Niragi asked, clearly not pleased for having to wait for you so long. "Did you bring more beer?"

"Got stuck inside the elevator," you stated. "So, no. I didn't."

"That shit finally broke?" Jae-sung asked and let out a laugh. "Took long enough."

"Join us, we saved a seat for you," Niragi invited, patting the chair next to him.

"Oh, i think i'll just go to read and-"

"Don't be silly, one game," another guy pleaded, you had never seen him before.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Fine, one game."

But one game turned into another and yet another, until it started to get really late. You were having a lot of fun, though, and you managed to win surprisingly often, shocking the guys a little because they had thought of being some sort of masters in card games themselves. Niragi knew you were a challenging opponent though, so he was amused by the reactions of his friends.

You now held the King of Spades card in your hand, looking at the King's cartoon face and felt it staring back at you, a little too intensely. You got a weird twist in your stomach, suddenly feeling sick.

Uncomfortable pressure formed inside your skull, some sort of flashes running inside your mind. The card dropped from your hand as you held your head in your hands, shutting your eyes.

You heard rapid shooting and screaming everywhere around you.

A man in a long black cloak approached you, pointing his gun at you, but someone pulled you out of the way of gunfire.

Swimming in a lake, being held against someone's bare chest but not seeing the person's face. An explosion somewhere in the distance.

Finally, Chishiya's face looking at you with worried eyes, a tear falling down his face and blood on his cheek. Saying something to you but you didn't hear what.

Every flash didn't last longer than one or two seconds, feeling like they were splitting your brain in half.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, Niragi looking at you with a worried expression on his face. You jumped on your seat, him scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Niragi asked.

"My, my head just hurts," you muttered and stood up. "Migraine. I think i'll go to lie down." You were already walking away until turned around one more time and gave the guys a smile. "It was nice to play with all of you though."

You went to the spare room and sat on the bed, hands grabbing the edge of the bed.

What the hell was that?

♤♡♧◇

Chishiya fell asleep fast that night, faster than usual, even though his mind wasn't even closely free from all the storming thoughts about you and everything going on in his life right now.

He saw a dream which felt too real and familiar to be only a dream. He felt like there had been more to the dream, and he remembered only a small part of it.

He saw your face. You were standing in front of him. With a smile on your face, you pulled him into a kiss, hands on his cheeks.

You pulled back after a while, still holding his cheeks as you looked into his eyes, challenging look in them. "I've never done it in a lake, though."

Chishiya woke up, for a moment trying to comprehend where he was after opening his eyes, then fully realizing he had only dreamed the entire thing. You weren't there holding his face. You weren't there kissing his lips. You weren't there at all, your touch had been only his own imagination.

Had the moment between you two in the elevator really affected him that much? Surely not. No, definitely not.

His heart fluttered and for some reason, he had liked it. The idea of you being close to him.

He wanted to slap himself on the cheek which held a ghost of your touch, just to get this feeling spat out of him. Touch which hadn't been there at all in the first place.

He didn't know you. You were strangers to each other who simply went through the same trauma. He had never felt like this about a woman who he only knew by a name. He knew nothing else about you besides getting injured when the meteorite hit Tokyo.

He could tell you were beautiful and would get any man on their knees by your feet, he wasn't going to deny that.

Was this some sort of "love at first sight" moment he was experiencing? Definitely not. He didn't believe in love at first sight, no. It had to be something else.

Chishiya groaned, absolutely frustrated, and wasn't able to sleep anymore.

♤♡♧◇

A/N: Hope i didn't forget to tag anyone <3 The next part won't be posted this fast lmao don't get used to this.

Taglist:

@audiiix

@valexqpt

@spencersoneball

@queenofviolenceandnerds

@moonchild323232

@lizxoxeth

@crazzzyyyy

@kimsrie

#alice in borderland x reader #aib imagine #alice in borderland imagine #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 days ago

Text

Daddy’s Home - Husband Sylus II

Random posts on the TL w/ husband Sylus and your spoiled rotten babygirl pt. 1

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by skye.109, simonesays, thing2_kieran and 78k others

misshuntermc: Secrets don’t make friends

tagged: simonesays

comments

simonesays: It’s not a secret that she just wanted some oreos

↳ skye.109: I hope you told her no I gave her three this morning ↳ talkthat_tara: I gave her two about thirty minutes ago ↳ liiisa_: I literally just gave her two not five minutes ago….. ↳ misshuntermc: All of you need to tighten tf up

skye.109: She’ll make a fine Heiress to the family business

↳ misshuntermc: We are not making her a Mafia Don ↳ thing2_kieran: Boss baby! ↳ thing1_luke: She already has her dads scowl she’ll be perfect!

— View 38 more comments

skye.109

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, thing1_luke, thing2_kieran and 59k others

skye.109: I would trade the world for you two

tagged: misshuntermc

comments

misshuntermc: You’re so poetic sometimes

↳ skye.109: Only for you

thing1_luke: Number 1 dad right here (What about us?☹️)

↳ thing2_kieran: Number 1 Husband too (You were our dad first☹️) ↳ liiisa_: Actually Smitty Werbenjägermangensen was number one 🤓☝🏼but Sylus is cool too ↳ misshuntermc: Go ahead and log out for me ↳ skye.109: Wrap it up

nene.nero: This photo just called me a single unloveable bitch and I just got here 🙃

↳ skye.109: Damn that tough ↳ talkthat_tara: Now Sylus have some compassion 🤣 ↳ simonesays: PFFFTT HE’S TRIGGERED 🫨

_onychinusfans109: Collab? DM if interested :)

↳ thing1_luke: We know thats you evol police….. ↳ thing2_kieran: Boss what are our orders? ↳ skye.109: Critcal condition ↳ thing1_luke: Yes Sir! ↳ thing2_kieran: On it!

— View 63 more comments

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by skye.109, simonesays, imjenna and 98k others

misshuntermc: Back when our 2 became 3

tagged: skye.109

comments

thing2_kieran: Uh I think you mean when our 5 became 6 miss girl 🙄

↳ thing1_luke: Just casually forgetting about us and Mephisto 🤔 ↳ misshuntermc: I’m sorry boys you know I meant no harm 😭 ↳ skye.109: So heartless ↳ misshuntermc: Can you not?

simonesays: Second baby when?

↳ skye.109: In 7 months ↳ talkthat_tara: STOP BABY NUMBER 2 ON THE WAY?!?!? 😧 ↳ liiisa_: The way I just choked on my drink ↳ simonesays: Please don’t be joking 🙏🏼 ↳ skye.109: I might tell you a joke but I'll never tell you a lie

misshuntermc: Everybody relax please 😐

↳ imjenna: You’re maternity and paternity leave is already approved use it when you’re ready ↳ skye.109: We appreciate your continued support Jenna ↳ misshuntermc: JENNA PLEASE

— View 54 more comments

skye.109

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, talkthat_tara, nene.nero and 77k others

skye.109: She wanted a date night ; I was three steps ahead

tagged: misshuntermc

comments

misshuntermc: I love you and the way you love me 🫶🏽

↳ misshuntermc: Never leave me 🥹 ↳ skye.109: I adore you Princess

misshuntermc: Thank you @/imjenna for babysitting ☹️🩵

↳ imjenna: Anytime I don’t mind spending time with this little angel ☺️ ↳ misshuntermc: 🥹🥹

talkthat_tara: Why am I being interrogated by two bikers? 😕

↳ liiisa_: Right like did y’all just jump me? 🥴 ↳ simonesays: Mind you I just opened the app 🫠

thing1_luke: Boss gon’ swerve bend that corner 😎

↳ thing2_kieran: WHOOOAAAA 😎 ↳ simonesays: PFFTT ↳ liiisa_: Gimmie your phones 🫴🏼

— View 40 more comments

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lads #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #sylus fluff #lads smau #nikaaaaimagine

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steveseddie · 2 days ago

Text

endlessly

written for @steddielovemonth day twenty eight “endlessly” by the cab | rating: t | wc: 2,1k | tags: post s4, three years in the future, established relationship, marriage proposal, fluff

read on ao3

There’s a shop down the street where they sell plastic rings for a quarter a piece and Eddie swears it might be his favorite thing about his and Steve’s apartment in Chicago.

Well, no. He really loves that it’s only five minutes away from Buckley’s dorm and that it has a fire exit that’s often visited by their downstairs neighbor’s cat. And of course, he also loves living there with Steve.

But that little shop is pretty sick too. Eddie is constantly misplacing his rings, and this way, it’s easier for him to replace them.

He stops by once or twice every week, which in Steve’s opinion is too much.

“You only have ten fingers, Eds, how many rings can you possibly need?” He tells him every time, but he always asks Eddie to show him his most recent buy.

Today’s visit has gotta be quick. Steve is waiting for Eddie and the black pepper he sent him to get for his homemade chili. So it’s in and out of the shop in less than five minutes, a new black band secured in his pocket, before Eddie hurries back home.

But even if he does, Steve still lets out an impatient little huff when he arrives.

“There you are!” He says, walking over to Eddie– and grabbing the black pepper from his hands, ignoring him.

Eddie lets out an offended string of noises. “And what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No, you are late,” Steve chastises, but still presses a placating kiss to Eddie’s lips before going back to the sizzling saucepan.

Eddie follows him and hops on the counter, his legs dangling back and forth as he watches Steve stir. “Unless everyone’s hiding in our bathroom, and I would be impressed, given how small it is, there’s no one here yet so there’s no way I’m late,” Eddie says petulantly.

Steve rolls his eyes, adding the black pepper to the chili. “They’ll be here soon. Rob called to say she was leaving her dorm and the kids said they’d get here around two, and you know they’ll be starving from the three hour ride. And they’ll bitch if lunch isn’t ready.”

“They’ll bitch either way,” Eddie says with a snort. “If not because of the food, then for the fact that they’re all sleeping on the floor since we only have one couch.”

Their apartment is hardly the Harringtons’ mansion, and while it’s more than enough for Eddie and Steve, it doesn’t have multiple guest rooms and mattresses to fit nine people for a weekend.

Chuckling, Steve stirs the black pepper in. “You’re probably right, remind me why we agreed to this again?”

Eddie taps his bottom lip with his finger, pretending to think. “Mm, because you can’t say no to them, and because Lucas was excited to use his newly acquired license to get them all here. Oh, and because you miss them.”

“You miss them too,” Steve points out, one hand on his hip while the other brandishes the wooden spoon in front of Eddie’s face.

“I admit to nothing!” Eddie says, but the truth is that he does.

The last time they saw the kids was a couple of months ago, when he and Steve drove to Hawkins for Wayne’s birthday and it had really hit Eddie just how much they’ve grown in the time they were away. Mike had been taller than both him and Steve, Lucas had actual facial hair. El’s curls were almost as long as Eddie’s while Max had chopped hers off and was rocking a badass bob. Will had a boyfriend and Henderson had a goddamned tattoo, for God’s sake.

Needless to say that visit had left Eddie reeling, Steve too. And while they were both excited to see them and show them around Chicago over the weekend, neither is ready to see how many other things have changed since then.

God, is this how parents feel when they watch their kids grow up? Maybe all those jokes about him and Steve co-parenting these shitheads were right all along.

“Here, try this,” Steve says, snapping Eddie out of his spiral. He holds the spoon in front of Eddie’s lips for him to taste it in a move that’s become familiar since they moved in together. Eddie leans forward and takes it into his mouth.

Then he lets out a moan.

“Fuck, Steve,” he says, watching Steve’s cheeks go pink, either at the praise or the familiar obscene sound. “That’s so good, oh my God.”

Steve ducks his head, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums, licking his lips. “I’d marry you for that alone.”

It’s hardly the first time Eddie has said that, but Steve’s reaction is the same as always. His cheeks pink up even more and a pleased bashful smile stretches over his lips. He puts the spoon in the sink and covers the saucepan to let the chili simmer before he stands between Eddie’s legs.

“You keep saying that, but I’ve yet to see the ring,” Steve says, teasingly, only Eddie’s mind goes to the ring in his pocket, the black band that would look so good in Steve’s ring finger–

And before he knows it, he’s jumping off the counter and dropping to his knees.

With a raised eyebrow, Steve takes half a step back. “Eds, you know I’d let you blow me for how good my food is any day, but the kids will be here soon–”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Steve,” Eddie scoffs. “This isn’t that, although that chili is definitely blow job worthy.”

“Well, if it isn’t that then what are you doing down there?”

Hell if I know, Eddie thinks before digging into his jeans, taking the ring out.

Steve blinks down at it. “Did you stop by that shop again?”

“Yes,” Eddie says and before Steve can protest, he adds, “But this one isn’t for me. It’s for you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in his forehead and when Eddie holds it up to him, his eyes widen, his jaw going slack.

“Oh my god.”

Eddie clears his throat. “Steve, these last three years with you have felt like a dream. Most of the time, I still can’t believe they weren’t one. That I won’t wake up from a coma at that damned secret hospital to find that none of it happened or that I died that day in the Upside Down and this is actually heaven. Life with you is just that good, sweetheart. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch because I get to come home to you every day and wake up next to you and your ridiculously bad bed head.” At that, Steve makes the first noise since Eddie started his speech– a soft wet chuckle.

“And I might be pushing my luck here, Stevie, because half the time I think I don’t deserve you. You deserve a– a gold ring and a beautiful house and someone who doesn’t think that jeans without holes in them counts as formal wear. But while I might not be able to give you that, I can and I will love you endlessly. So, ignoring the fact that legally we can’t, because fuck society, will you, Steve Harrington, marry me?”

Steve’s mouth opens with a gasp but before Eddie can get his answer, the door to their apartment swings open and in walks Robin.

She learned the hard way to use the key that they gave her cautiously after she walked in on them going at it half naked in the kitchen. The only reason why she used it today is probably because she thought it was safe to do it, knowing that they wouldn’t get up to any funny business while they were expecting the kids.

She probably didn’t expect to walk in on this instead.

To be fair, Eddie didn’t expect to do this at all today.

“Boys, look who I ran into downstairs!” She says, holding the door open for the kids before freezing on the spot. “Oh my God!”

“They’re naked, aren’t they?” Dustin groans. That damn tone is the one thing that hasn’t changed at all.

Robin sputters. “Uh, no, they’re–”

“Oh my God!” Mike gasps, echoing Robin’s words as he steps in and sees Eddie on his knees in front of Steve, the ring still held between his fingers.

“What? What?” The others ask, trying to get a look while stuck behind Mike’s tall frame.

They see El’s head pop up under his arm. “Eddie is proposing to Steve!”

“What?” Max and Dustin shriek, shoving Mike out of the way and stumbling into the apartment with Lucas and Will in tow.

Lucas gasps. “Holy shit!”

“Did he say yes?” Will asks, glancing between the two.

Dustin gives his arm a light slap. “Of course he said yes, he’s just as obsessed with Eddie as Eddie is with him.”

“Actually,” Eddie cuts in, speaking for the first time since they all barged in. “He hasn’t, you shitheads interrupted him.”

“Dude!” Max lets out an indignant huff. “What are you waiting for?”

“Yeah, Steve!” The boys all agree, El’s wide eyes do too.

“Children–” Robin chastises, but Eddie can see the curious glint in her eyes.

“I–” Steve starts, finally saying something but he doesn’t get far before Eddie interrupts him.

“Stevie, it’s okay, you just can tell me later–”

He firmly shakes his head. “No, Eds, I don’t mind that the kids are here,” he says, his lips tugging upwards as he starts his own speech. “I don’t mind that you got that ring from that shop down the street that I insist you spend way too much time in, or that we live in this small apartment and that you only own a single pair of jeans without any rips on them. I don’t care about any of that because I love you, and I love our life, and nothing would make me happier than being married to you even if it’s not official. Actually, fuck that, we can have our own wedding and it can be real to us. All that matters is that I get to love you. Endlessly.”

Eddie gapes at Steve, his heart in his throat. He wants to say something, anything, but he’s afraid he might embarrass himself by starting to cry.

“Dude,” Mike says, breaking the silence for him. “That was so sappy.”

“Shhhh!” They all say in unison while Max delivers a slap to the back of his head.

Eddie can’t help but laugh– a happy, giddy sound. “No, Wheeler is right. That was sappy.”

Steve shoots him a betrayed look. “Shut up. You’re lucky they didn’t hear your speech!”

“Don’t act like it didn’t make you swoon,” he teases.

Steve’s cheeks go red. “You’re insufferable, I take it back, I won’t marry you.”

“No take backsies!” Eddie protests, grabbing Steve’s hand and sliding the ring on. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“I know,” Steve says, his smile tipping into something soft as he hauls Eddie to his feet so he can kiss him.

Their friends cheer but the sounds quickly turn into groans as they both get a little carried away with their kiss.

“Do you guys need us to go back to the car and give you a minute to be gross?” Lucas asks after a while.

Eddie feels tempted to say yes but before he can Dustin jumps in protest. “No way! We’ve been in that car for hours and I’m starving!”

Steve and Eddie exchange a bemused look. They know their kids well.

“Well, lunch is ready, so go wash up and then you shitheads can eat.”

As soon as Steve says it, they all barrel into the apartment, squeezing into their tiny bathroom so they can wash their hands, arguing over who goes first the whole time.

Robin closes the door behind her and hands Steve her key. “I don’t think it’s not safe for me to have that,” she says sheepishly.

Eddie snorts. “Your timing really is impeccable, Buckley.”

Pulling them both in for a hug, she says, “I love you, dinguses and I’m happy for you, but if you make anyone else your Maid of Honor, I’ll kill you.”

“We love you too,” Steve chuckles, and Eddie agrees with a nod.

She pulls away, heading to the bathroom so she can also wash up.

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “And I love you,” he says with a kiss to his temple. “Endlessly.”

Eddie intertwines his fingers with the hand that rests over his shoulder, feeling the ring on Steve’s finger. It causes a flutter in his chest.

“Yeah, Stevie,” he says, giving his fingers a squeeze. “Endlessly.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddielovemonth #stranger things #stranger things fic #this event is SO important to me it's why i started writing steddie a year ago and i haven't stopped since #here's my last little contribution enjoy x #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party #monse writes

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