#it was them against the world for so long
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ SWEET GIRL 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
☆ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader
☆ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.
☆ HEADCANON : How Do They Eat That Kitty?
☆ NOTE : Minors DNI. Damian is an adult. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
⎯ Bruce Wayne
Bruce eats pussy like it’s a goddamn art form—he’s precise, calculated, and maddeningly patient. He starts slow, always. Those big hands spread you open, thumbs keeping you vulnerable as he just looks at you, like you’re a meal he’s been starving for. Then, his tongue starts, slow and flat, dragging up from your entrance to your clit in one smooth stroke that has your breath catching. He doesn’t rush, not at first—he builds you up so slowly that you’re practically begging him to stop teasing. When he gets serious? Oh, you’re fucked. Bruce focuses entirely on your clit, his tongue pressing firm and circling in ways that have your thighs trembling. He slides two fingers inside you, curving them just right to hit that spot, and he watches you. His dark eyes stay locked on your face, reading every reaction like he’s solving some complex puzzle. And god, he loves control. If you try to squirm or close your legs, he growls, low and dangerous, “Stay still, or I’ll stop.” Spoiler: he never actually stops, but the threat alone keeps you in place. When you cum, he doesn’t let up. His tongue keeps working you, dragging you through wave after wave until you’re crying out his name, completely wrecked.
⎯ Dick Grayson
Dick? He’s a pussy-eating legend. You know how some people enjoy it? Dick fucking loves it. He dives in like it’s his favorite thing in the world, his hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer, his face buried between your legs as he moans like a man possessed. He’s messy about it, too—his tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking on your clit like he’s trying to ruin you. But Dick knows exactly how to build you up. He’ll start with long, teasing licks, making you squirm and whimper, and then he focuses entirely on your clit. His tongue moves in quick, flicking motions, switching it up with soft sucks that send shocks through your entire body. And he’s loud. He moans into you, murmuring things like, “You taste so fucking good,” and “I could stay down here all night.” His fingers? Fucking perfect. He slips two inside you effortlessly, curling them up in time with his tongue until you’re sobbing from the intensity. And Dick doesn’t stop when you cum. Nope. He keeps going, even as you’re begging him for mercy, his grin widening against your skin because he knows he’s got you falling apart.
⎯ Jason Todd
Jason eats pussy like he’s got something to prove. There’s nothing soft or sweet about it—it’s raw, filthy, and absolutely fucking primal. He doesn’t even bother teasing you. The second your legs are open, his face is buried between them, his tongue lapping at you like he’s starving. His grip on your thighs is bruising—he keeps you pinned in place no matter how much you try to squirm. His tongue is relentless, focusing on your clit with harsh flicks and sucks that have you seeing stars in seconds. Jason’s all about intensity—he groans against you, low and rough, sending vibrations through your body. And when he slides his fingers inside you, It’s game over. He pumps them hard and fast, curling them to hit that sweet spot over and over until you’re screaming his name. Jason loves watching you lose control. He’ll pull back just enough to smirk at you, his lips and chin soaked, and growl, “C’mon, baby. Let me hear you.” And when you finally cum? He doesn’t stop. He forces you to take every second of it, holding you down as he works you through the aftershocks, leaving you completely wrecked.
⎯ Damian Wayne
Damian is precise. He approaches eating pussy like a challenge, determined to reduce you to nothing but gasps and moans. He starts slow, dragging his tongue through your folds with maddening patience, watching your every reaction. His hands hold your thighs apart, firm but not rough, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Once he finds what works, Damian locks in like a man on a mission. His tongue circles your clit in perfect, rhythmic motions, alternating with soft flicks that have your back arching off the bed. He doesn’t get messy—everything he does is intentional, calculated, and devastatingly effective. His fingers join the party soon enough, sliding inside you with ease, curling up to hit your G-spot with every stroke. Damian’s all about control. If you try to move, he tightens his grip, growling, “Stay still. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s also vocal in a way that’s almost mocking. “Look at you. Falling apart for me already.” And when you cum? Damian doesn’t stop. He keeps going, overstimulating you until you’re trembling, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to let you breathe. He’ll finally pull back, wiping his mouth with a smug smirk, because he knows no one else can make you feel like that.
ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ: ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.
#🕊️. dc comics#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#bruce wayne x fem!reader#dick grayson x female!reader#jason todd x fem!reader#damian wayne x female reader#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#damian wayne x reader#batman x fem!reader#batman x reader#nightwing x reader#red hood x reader#bruce wayne smut#dick grayson smut#jason todd smut#damian wayne smut#dick grayson#bruce wayne#jason todd#damian wayne#dc x reader#dc x female reader#bruce wayne x y/n#dick grayson x you#jason todd x y/n#damian wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#dick grayson x y/n
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Kidnapping Buddy
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x teen!reader (platonic)
warnings: kidnapping (it’s silly though)
summary: you find yourself kidnapped by Robotnik but Shadow finds you quite interesting
a/n: request my mutual sent me recently so I knew I had to come through 🙂↕️, here you go!
You didn’t think you’d be spending your day tied to a chair in Robotniks weird Crab helicopter, but here you were. Unfortunately you were considered a useful asset as bait against your parents and Sonic to keep them from trying to stop him from ‘ruling the world’.
It was dumb and extremely boring, especially with no one to talk to. Then he showed up, Shadow was assigned with the task to make sure you didn’t escape, you were a sneaky teen after all. Robotnik himself knew that because you had foiled his plans several times before with your (technically) brother Sonic.
You guys were like two devils when combined together, it was actually quite frightening for Robotnik, which contributed to the reason why you were kidnapped. Keeping you away from Sonic was his idea of lessening the verbal abuse he got from you two.
Shadow didn’t know that though, all he knew was that you were supposed to be their leverage in case of emergency and he was to treat you as such. Too bad he was underestimating you.
As Shadow walked into the room you were held, his gaze never left yours. He fixed himself to lean against the wall, arms crossed as he studied you. You looked harmless enough, he didn’t understand why Robotnik even wanted you here, the mission would’ve gone just fine without you.
Shadow closed his eyes for a second, thinking to himself before opening them up again only to see you had untied yourself. Your arms free as you rubbed your sore wrists.
“This flight sucks, where are the snack?” You asked Shadow, a smirk placed on your features as you teased him subtly.
Shadow stood there dumbfounded as to how you were able to untie yourself in less than five seconds. Thanks to Sonic and all the mishaps he’d had with Eggman your parents thought it was good to teach you a few essentials in case something like this happened.
“How?” Shadow asked you. Somewhat blocking the only exit.
You let out a sigh and sat back down on the floor, not really seeing a reason to leave, “This isn’t the first time..” you smiled as you looked around the room.
He stood there a bit longer before walking closer, seeing you didn’t seem to have much of an urge to leave, “Explain.”
And so you did, you went on an annoyingly long rant about how Robotnik liked to try and capture you or your family members to use against Sonic but it never worked.
As you talked Shadow found himself engrossed. He sat across from you, no longer worried if you escaped, he’d probably catch you anyway. While you told your stories he noticed you were very expressive, it reminded him about his short encounter with the other hedgehog he’d briefly met.
“That sounds obnoxious.” Shadow mumbled, his brows furrowed and armed crossed.
“It really is!!” You exclaimed, your arms thrown in the air as you huffed. You didn’t really know Shadow well and you knew he was the enemy but he was honestly fun to talk to, at least more than Robotnik and Stone were.
Before you’d realized it you had already spent a lot of time talking with Shadow, he may have been a bit intimidating but he was genuinely really cool. Even he seemed to enjoy himself around you, finding amusement in your stories. He honestly hoped you’d be able to escape or your brothers come and save you.
Time continued to pass as you spent time with Shadow, talking about mindless things. His responses quick but it was more in his nature to listen anyway. You were a fun ‘prisoner’, even if you would argue you willingly let yourself be kidnapped (you did not).
#sonic 3#sonic the hedgehog#sonic 3 movie#sonic 3 x reader#x reader#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow#shadow x reader#ivo robotnik
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helloo!! can you please write about ‘arcane characters when you get in an argument’? i absolutely love ur writing btw!! 🫶🏻
arguments with arcane characters x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: i love when you guys request this kind of interesting dynamics, it's so fun to write about it! also my favorite this time was sevika's, I meannn it was kinda hot and spicy. requests are open ;)
Viktor
The sound of the keys under his hands seems to fill the air, but what resonates most is the silence between the two of you. The room is steeped in an unsettling calm, while he keeps working as if nothing else exists. It’s been days since he last rested, and you know it. His skin is paler than usual, his eyes glassy, as if all the world's exhaustion is about to devour him. The scent of machine oil and metal permeates the room, but what hurts you most is the fragility of his being, the one he insists on ignoring.
Slowly, frustration begins to simmer within you. You love him more than anything in the world, but watching him so neglected, so absorbed in his work that he doesn’t even stop to eat, burns you.
You approach him, and suddenly, you can't take it anymore. Your tone isn't raised, but the fury is felt in every word. "Viktor, stop," you murmur, almost pleading. "You’re killing yourself. You haven’t eaten in days, not even slept. Do you know what you're doing? You're letting yourself go. Your body is crying out for help, and you're ignoring it."
He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react. He keeps working as if your words don't reach him. Frustrated, you step closer. "You can't keep going like this, Viktor! What are you expecting? For someone to come and save you from yourself? This isn't just about your work, it’s about you!"
Finally, he looks up, but his eyes don’t seem to truly see you. Only a shadow of exhaustion. "I do it for them... for the people. The work... my research, it’s all that matters now."
"And you? Don’t you matter?" The anger mixes with something much deeper. Something that has to do with fear. "Your lack of self-love is so evident, Viktor, even I can see it. You're losing yourself in this obsession."
The words come out harsher than you intended. But seeing the flash of pain in his eyes, you realize what you've just said. A lump forms in your throat.
You fall silent, feeling the air grow thick. Guilt quickly invades you, and before you can think, you kneel in front of him. "Forgive me," you whisper, the anger already dissipated, replaced by sincere pain. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. It’s just... I don't want to see you like this, so lost. I don’t want you to hurt yourself because you are what I love most, Viktor."
Your hands tremble as you take his face in yours. "Please, take care of yourself. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to see you like this anymore, fighting alone against everything. Because, to me, you are everything."
Viktor says nothing at first. He just watches you, the conflict in his gaze. Then, as if releasing a sigh he had been holding for too long, he responds softly, "I’ll try... I promise I’ll try."
You look at him with a mix of relief and sadness. Finally, you stand up and take his hand firmly. "Now come with me. I’m going to make your favorite dinner. You need it."
The change in his expression is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Something in his face softens, and for the first time in a long while, he gives you a faint smile. "You know, that sounds wonderful," he says with a tone that mixes surprise and gratitude.
As you prepare dinner, the atmosphere changes. The tension slowly dissolves, but there’s something else in the air, a silent understanding between you two. After dinner, you look at him with a mischievous smile.
"Viktor," you say, your voice full of complicity. "How many days have you gone without bathing? Because, honestly, I think it’s time you do."
He visibly shifts in discomfort, his face taking on a pink hue. "Honestly... I don’t know," he replies, as if trying to evade the question, looking down. "The truth is, I haven’t had time to think about those things."
Your laugh is soft but teasing. "I think you’ve forgotten a bit about yourself. So, what do you think if after dinner, we take a bath together?"
Viktor blushes even more, but before he can say anything, he has already conceded, and with an exaggerated formality only he can pull off, he responds, "Well... that... that would be very pleasant. If you don’t mind, of course."
The tension from before has transformed into something softer, lighter. You, amused by his so formal response, take his hand and lead him to the bathroom, feeling that, in that moment, all that really matters is that he’s finally willing to take care of himself.
Jinx
The sound of the spark igniting the fuse fills the room. Jinx has a playful smile on her face, but something isn't right. The bomb is making strange noises, as if it's about to fail. The sparkle in her eyes fades for a second, but it's accompanied by a nervous chuckle.
"What's wrong, Jinx?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. The moment feels out of place, and for a moment, you sense that something is very wrong, very out of control. "That... doesn't sound right."
But she just stands there, watching the bomb intently. She doesn't move. The air grows heavy, and suddenly, the bomb makes a terrifying click.
Your eyes widen as you see the timer on the bomb speeding up. A chill grips you, and in an instant, you act on instinct. You leap toward the table, your breath quickening, and deactivate the bomb just before it fully triggers. The explosion is seconds away from ringing in your ears, but you manage to stop it.
A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you quickly turn to face Jinx. She’s still there, motionless, her eyes fixed on the deactivated bomb, as if hypnotized. She doesn't look scared or relieved, just... empty.
"Why didn't you do anything?" you confront her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why did you just stand there? You could have died, Jinx! We could have both died!"
Jinx stares at the floor, her demeanor shifting in a second. The mockery dissolves, the mask falls, and in its place appears the scared girl she so often hides. "I... just wanted to see what would happen." Her response is soft, trembling, as if she doesn't know how to process what just happened.
Those few seconds of silence feel eternal. The air around you grows heavy, as if the whole world is waiting for something else to explode. And it does. You can't take it anymore. Fury takes over, and you lash out at her.
"What did you want to see, Jinx?" Your voice is harsh, filled with frustration. "Did you want to see us both die because of your stupid curiosity? Is that what you wanted?"
Jinx shrinks, her expression transforming into something so fragile it burns your heart. Her face is filled with regret, but her eyes can't meet yours. Tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she keeps staring at the floor, feeling small and scolded.
"I didn't mean to... I swear..." she murmurs, almost in a whisper, her words choked by the pain of having gone too far.
Your rage starts to dissipate, replaced by something deeper. An irrational fear, the anguish of watching Jinx destroy herself. You walk toward her, kneel to her level, and gently take her chin, lifting it so she looks at you.
What you see stops you cold. Jinx's nails are deeply embedded in her palms, red marks that have hurt her, as if she wants to punish herself for something. You stare at her intently, the pain reflected in her eyes and her gesture.
Quickly, you take her hands, without saying a word, and kiss them softly, your lips touching the small wounds on her skin. The blood from her hands stains your lips, but you don't care. "You know I hate seeing you destroy yourself," you murmur, your voice broken by the fear you still feel. "Please, Sweets, don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to us."
You stay still, waiting for her reaction. Finally, the door that had closed in her heart opens, and Jinx lets out a deep sob. Tears fall down her face, like an unexpected rain, and her body trembles.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Jinx sobs, clutching you tightly. There are no more laughs, no more jokes. Just pure pain. And you hold her with equal intensity, rocking her in your arms, trying to soothe her, to erase the suffering she always carries inside.
"Pain isn't the solution," you whisper, stroking her braided hair, trying to convey all the love you feel for her. "I'll always be here for you, Sweets. You don't have to carry all this alone."
She remains silent for a moment, her sobs calming, but her embrace is still desperate. Finally, after a few seconds, her eyes lift, and with a small smile, she says:
"So... want to make bombs, but in a fun way? With less blood this time!"
The laughter that follows fills the room, and even though you know the battle isn't won, this small step in her recovery gives you renewed hope. Taking her hand, you lead her back to the table with the tools, ready for another night filled with madness... but this time, with a little more care.
Vi
The air in the Undercity feels heavy tonight, a cold that seems to seep into your bones. The sound of metal echoing through the structures, the distant murmurs of shouts and laughter, mix with the echo of your footsteps on the iron bridge that crosses the dark, grimy avenue. You walk in silence, but the tension in the air is palpable.
Suddenly, a drunk, staggering with a vacant stare, approaches you. The stench of alcohol wafts from his breath, and his eyes settle on you in a not-so-friendly way. His rough, hollow laughter resonates in the air, as if nothing he was about to do mattered.
Before you can react, his hands touch your backside without warning, sending a wave of revulsion through you and a shiver down your spine.
A choked scream escapes you, but before you can push him away, you feel Vi’s furious gaze, like a storm about to break loose. The anger on her face is palpable, and not a second later, the drunk is on the ground, receiving blows that thunder like hammers. His face is soon covered in blood, and the sound of fists pounding against his body leaves a disturbing feeling in the air.
Vi doesn’t stop; each punch is more brutal than the last. People in the distance quickly disperse, leaving only the echo of the hits. Your heart races, worry consumes you as you watch Vi unleash her uncontrollable fury.
"Vi, stop!" You lunge toward her, but in the process, one of her fury-fueled punches lands directly on your lip. The immediate pain stuns you, and when you touch your face, your hand is filled with blood. The split lip burns. Vi stops abruptly, looking at her bloodstained knuckles—her own, the drunk’s, and now yours.
She stands frozen, her face, once filled with rage, now shows a look of horror. “Oh, God…” she murmurs, seeing what she has done.
You tremble, not just from the pain in your lip but from the brutality of her actions. You’re not used to violence, not on this magnitude. Fear knots in your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh as you watch Vi, her face now wrecked with guilt.
"I didn’t mean to!" Her voice is broken, as if the guilt is overwhelming her.
“Let’s go home,” you respond coldly, more out of fear than anger, "and when we get there, we’ll talk."
The walk home is silent, the tension hanging between you like a taut string about to snap. When you arrive, you enter the kitchen and quickly tend to your lip, while Vi watches silently, unable to articulate a word.
Once you finish, you turn to her. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unsaid. “Vi…” you begin, your voice soft but firm. “You need to learn to control your anger. This time, you just didn’t hurt someone else. This time, it was me too. Me, the person you love the most. Do you realize that? Do you realize how I felt when your blows landed on me?”
Her eyes fill with tears, and her throat tightens as if she wants to say something, but the words are stuck in her chest. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
You continue, your words coming out with more pain than you expected. “Sometimes… I’m afraid of you, Vi. Not because of what you might do to others, but because of what you might do to me. I don’t want to live in fear of your rage hurting me. It hurts so much. It hurt so much.”
Vi collapses in front of you, breaking down. Her tears fall one after another, and she throws herself into your arms, holding you in a desperate embrace. “I don’t know why I’m like this… I don’t know how… how to control it. I always have this rage inside, and sometimes I don’t know how to stop it. When it explodes, everything goes to hell, I know…” Her voice cracks as she clings to you. "I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you."
The softness in her tone hits you harder than any punch, and in that moment, you know she understands. "Vi, I… I don’t want you to hurt anymore," you murmur, caressing her back. "I don’t want that rage to control you."
She pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, her face soaked in tears. “I’m so sorry. I swear it wasn’t my intention… but sometimes…” her words trail off in a sigh.
A small, sad smile forms on your face. “Have you thought about boxing? Maybe it’ll help you release all that. And I’ll go with you! But promise me you won’t use me as a punching bag, okay?" you joke with a smile, trying to lighten the moment.
Vi finally laughs, a laugh that feels like relief. “I promise. Just, please, don’t leave me, okay?”
You approach her, tenderly kissing her, careful to avoid the wound on your lip, and you feel the softness of her lips, the calm that finally settles between you. “I would never leave you, babe,” you whisper as you both embrace, knowing that, even though everything is complicated and painful, there is something between you that always keeps you together.
Caitlyn
The door bursts open, and Caitlyn enters the room with a face marked by a fury that seems to burn inside her. Your eyes lift from where you're sitting, a little surprised by her abrupt entrance, but you quickly see what has been happening.
"I can't believe what I had to hear today," Caitlyn throws out, her voice cold and cutting as she drops her jacket on a chair. "All because of your... damn ideas of justice. Do you have any idea what that means in this place?"
You stand up slowly, the tone of her voice making the air grow denser, heavier. "What happened, Cait?" you ask, though part of you already knows it has something to do with her ideals.
"It's not just what happened, it's what's happening. All the damn time," she responds, walking toward you with contained rage. "You go on and on about doing what's right, without understanding that ‘right’ isn’t always what people in high places think. You think you can change something, but all you're doing is making it worse."
Your heart races, and a spark of frustration rises in your chest. "Make it worse?" you repeat, feeling indignation begin to spill out of you. "Is that what you think? That my actions aren't worth it? You're so blinded by your perfect view of the world that you can't see what's really going on in the streets! Evil isn't just in the ‘high society,’ Caitlyn. It's everywhere."
Caitlyn looks at you with an intensity that almost seems defiant, but also wounded. "I'm not blind, the problem is that I can't understand why you keep going against the whole system. Every time you do, you just feed more chaos. You have to think about the consequences, about the people who can't afford those ideals you're defending like you're some fairy-tale hero. Not everyone can afford that luxury."
"A luxury?" Your voice rises slightly, now stronger. "What you call 'luxury' should be a right. Do you really not understand that people are suffering? That your 'system' is letting all of this crumble just to maintain power? I can't just stand by because you think it's fine because it looks neat from your tower."
Caitlyn steps back, as if your words hit some deep place inside her. "Not everything is as simple as ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ Sometimes things aren’t black or white. Sometimes you have to make concessions to move forward. What you’re doing is just putting yourself in the center, without understanding that there’s more at stake."
The words hang in the air between you two, and the intensity of the argument seems to rise with every exchange. Caitlyn is so convinced of her point of view that you can't help but feel frustrated by the barrier between you.
"What I understand, Caitlyn," you finally say, with a tense calm, "is that sometimes you do more harm by trying to follow the rules than by breaking them. And I know your intentions are good, but I can't stay silent watching you justify the unjustifiable."
Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if taking a breath to calm herself. When she opens them again, something has changed. It’s not that her anger has disappeared, but she seems more exhausted, as if all this is wearing her down. "I’m not asking you to agree with me. I'm just asking you to understand that sometimes, even if it hurts, decisions aren’t as easy as you see them."
There's a long silence between you, the air thick with discomfort and tension. You both know you're not going to come to an agreement this time, but you also know that won't change what lies between you.
Finally, Caitlyn sighs and sits on the edge of the table, letting the exhaustion take over her. "Sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right, no matter what I try," she murmurs, more to herself than to you. "And you... you make me see everything that's wrong with me."
You move a little closer, calmer but still hurt. "Cait, that's not what I want. What I want is for you to realize you don’t have to carry all of this on your own. You don’t have to keep walking down this path if it doesn't make you happy. I’m here for you, even when we don’t agree."
Caitlyn looks at you, her eyes reflecting some vulnerability, something she doesn't usually show. "I know. I just… I’m scared that I could lose everything I’ve built because... because I don't know when to stop."
You sit next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You’re not going to lose it, Cait. No matter how much we fight, what matters is that we’re in this together. But you also have to learn to take care of yourself, not just the world."
Caitlyn nods slowly, and for the first time in a long while, a small smile appears on her face, though it’s sad. "I guess sometimes I forget that."
The tension begins to dissipate, although the brush of differences is still there. Deep down, you both know that these kinds of discussions won’t end anytime soon, but you also know that you're both moving forward for something bigger than the disagreement.
Jayce
There was something heavy in the air that night. An uncomfortable silence that hadn't been able to break for the past few days. Despite being in the same house, in the same room, you felt farther away from Jayce than ever. It wasn't just the lack of physical contact, it wasn't just the absence of the small gestures that usually made everything work between you. It was something deeper, something that had been growing inside you without him realizing it.
Finally, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You sat on the bed, staring into the emptiness in front of you, and when he walked in, that feeling of discouragement completely overwhelmed you. Without looking at him, you started.
“Jayce, I don’t know what to think anymore,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “It’s been days since… since we’ve had anything. And I’m not just talking about sex, I’m talking about everything. I don’t even feel like you desire me anymore.”
Jayce, who had been in his own world as usual, looked up at you, confused by your words. “What are you saying, honey?” Surprise was evident in his voice, but it wasn’t enough to calm the torrent that had been unleashed inside you.
“You don’t get it, do you?” You stood up from the bed, walking towards him, words pouring out like a torrent. “Every day, I feel like I’m just here, fitting into your perfect life. Everything we do, everything we plan, it feels like you’re doing it because you have to. What about what I want, Jayce? What about us?”
Jayce took a step towards you, opening his arms as if he wanted to get closer, but something in your gaze made him stop. “No… I don’t understand. What do you mean by fitting into my perfect life?”
Your breathing quickened. “What I mean is that sometimes, I feel like I’m just an accessory, another piece in the puzzle you’ve been putting together. Like what matters most to you is making everything look right, fitting, but not us. I don’t feel desired, Jayce. I feel empty, like I don’t matter, like I’m just here because I fit into your life, not because you actually want to be with me.”
The pain in your voice was palpable, and although Jayce tried to step closer, you moved away from him. “I’m so tired of feeling like we’re nothing more than two people sharing a space. There’s no passion, no connection… Just the idea of what’s expected of us.”
Jayce looked completely lost, like he never imagined you felt this way. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You know how important you are to me. But I… I’ve been so focused on work, on everything we need to achieve, that…”
“That what?” you interrupted, unable to keep bearing what felt like a pile of excuses. “That you’re too busy to see what’s right in front of you? I have my own problems too, Jayce. Not everything revolves around your projects, your perfect image. I’m a person too, and my feelings matter too.”
The words hung in the air, between rage and pain. Jayce didn’t say anything, and that only increased the feeling of abandonment you were experiencing. Frustration and sadness took over you more and more. Finally, the silence was broken, but not in the way you expected.
“Honey…” Jayce started, his voice softer now, but still full of confusion. “I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t realize I was leaving you out. I didn’t want you to feel… unwanted.”
Your eyes filled with tears, the emotional pressure of being unheard for so long finally bursting. “I don’t want to be just another option in your life. I want to be loved, I want to feel desired, I want you to look at me like you’re afraid of losing me. And I don’t feel that from you. I feel like everything we do is a routine, just fulfilling what’s supposed to be.”
Jayce slowly approached, now understanding the gravity of your words. “I… I don’t know how I didn’t see all this. I’m sorry, honey. I really am. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve been so focused on everything else that… I’ve failed you.”
A heavy silence fell between you. You didn’t know what to think, just felt a knot in your stomach, but when Jayce took a step towards you, taking your hands, you couldn’t help but look him in the eyes, searching for some sign that he truly understood how you felt.
“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his tone full of sincerity. “I promise I’ll change, I won’t take you for granted. You’re the most important thing to me, and if I made you feel like you weren’t, it hurts me deeply.”
You looked at him intently, seeing in his eyes the truth of his regret. “I know… but I need you to act instead of just saying it.”
Jayce nodded, a glimpse of a smile appearing on his face as his hands caressed yours. “I will. From now on, you and I… we’re a priority.”
Your heart lightened hearing those words, and when he hugged you, you held him tightly, knowing that the road to healing that disconnection wouldn’t be easy, but at least, finally, there was a beginning. And that promise to rebuild what had been lost was all you needed to start healing.
Ekko
That afternoon, it felt like the tension between you and Ekko was thicker than ever. You had been working together on a project, and the small jokes and dismissive attitudes from Ekko, which you usually let slide, began to affect you more than you expected.
"Wow, did you really think that was a good idea?" Ekko said, his biting tone making the sarcasm leave a bitter taste in his mouth.
Your breath became heavier, and although you tried to ignore it, something inside you snapped. You looked at him, furious, and without thinking twice, dropped the tool you had in your hands. "You know what? I'm leaving."
Ekko looked at you, somewhat surprised by your reaction, but before you could walk away any further, he let out a light laugh, as if nothing was happening. "What's up, got your period or something?"
That was the breaking point.
You stopped in your tracks, feeling a lump form in your throat. You turned to him with eyes shining with frustration. "You know what, Ekko? It's because of you. Because sometimes you don't seem to think about what you say, and you don't care how I feel."
Ekko furrowed his brow, trying to understand what you were saying, but before he could speak, you continued venting.
"You make me feel like my problems don't matter, like everything I do isn't up to your standards. Always so... so carefree, like you never have to think about how your words affect me. Have you ever thought about that?" Rage and pain built up in your voice as you spoke, but the words kept pouring out like an avalanche.
And then, without warning, what you hadn’t been able to say before came flooding out. "You know what's the worst? That I feel insecure, Ekko. I feel like I'm not good enough for you, like I'm not smart enough, not attractive enough... Because you never show jealousy, you never show anything. Like you never care. And that makes me doubt myself."
Ekko went silent, looking at your face in surprise, an expression that showed he finally understood what you had just said. The mockery from his previous joke faded, and his face shifted from confusion to deep seriousness.
"I... I didn't know you felt that way," he said finally, his words soft and filled with guilt. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm sorry, really. I'm not good at showing what I feel, I've never been."
He slowly approached you, not trying to interrupt the flow of your emotions. "You know, I grew up in a world where showing emotions was seen as weakness. Life never gave me time to process them. Since I was a kid, I was always at war, always on the move, always worried about surviving. But I never wanted that to affect you."
Your eyes softened a little as you listened to his words, and for a moment, the weight of frustration lifted slightly. "I... I didn't want you to think I cared less. It's just that sometimes, I get so caught up in my own stuff that I forget that the people close to me also have feelings. And I don't want you to feel belittled, I don't want you to feel like you're not enough."
There was a tense silence between you both, but something in his tone softened the atmosphere. "I'm sorry, really. It was never my intention to hurt you. You're incredible just as you are, and you make me feel like I can be more, like I can improve."
For a moment, everything seemed to calm down, but Ekko, with a mischievous smile, added, "And if it helps, yeah, I do worry a little when others look at you. But I'm not so good at showing jealousy."
You couldn't help but smile a little, even though you still felt the open wounds. Ekko, seeing this, moved a bit closer and gave you a gentle hug, as if it were a small gesture of comfort you so needed.
"I really care about you. I don't want you to feel insecure. I don't care if you're smarter or not, because what really matters to me is that you're you."
And before you could respond, Ekko joked with his usual playful attitude. "Although, if I ever catch you with someone else, you'd better be ready, because I’m not going to sit still."
You laughed despite everything, feeling the tension slowly disappearing, as if everything you had kept inside had finally found a way out.
"I love you too," you replied, as you hugged him again, knowing that, although the path wouldn’t always be easy, at least you both understood each other a little more.
Silco
Silco's office was shrouded in shadows, barely illuminated by the dim glow of a lamp on his desk. The phone conversation he was having was filled with frustration. "No, that won't work. We need something more decisive, something more substantial," he growled before hanging up with a sharp click that echoed through the wood.
From your position at the door, you could hear every word, feeling the tension in the air. You couldn’t help but intervene. "Maybe you could try..." you began, suggesting a plan you had come up with after hearing his problem.
Silco looked up at you, his cold, calculating eyes locking onto yours. "Shut up. You don't know anything about this," he snapped with disdain, his words cutting through you like a knife.
The coldness in his voice felt like a blow to the chest. Without saying another word, you turned around and stormed out of the office, slamming the door with a force that resonated down the hallway. Frustration burned in your chest as you climbed the stairs to your room.
Surprised by your reaction, Silco followed. Reaching the closed door, he knocked forcefully. "Open the door immediately!" he shouted, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.
"I won't! Go away!" you replied from inside, your voice trembling with both rage and pain. A sound from inside made his heart race. Fearing the worst, he broke down the door without thinking twice.
Inside, he found you packing your things with trembling hands. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes fixed on you, trying to understand the magnitude of your decision.
"I'm done, Silco. Done with you not seeing me as someone capable of helping you, done with you constantly underestimating me," you declared, your voice trembling but resolute. "I’m a human being, just like you, and I can handle matters and plans. I’m not just a decoration in your world."
Silco scoffed, crossing his arms in impatience. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do you want me to buy you something? You look hysterical."
That was the breaking point. You turned to face him, your eyes fiery and filled with tears. "Silco, remember where you found me. I was a worker in that horrible brothel, sold by my parents at eleven. I thought that by freeing myself, I would have a voice, that finally someone would see me as an equal. But it’s not like that. You don’t even listen to me."
Silco looked at you, his eyes softening as the weight of your words sank in. He approached you cautiously, his fingers touching your cheek with an unusual tenderness. "It's not personal," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I’ve always been like this, I prefer to work alone. I’ve been through so much to earn respect in the Undercity that sometimes I minimize the opinions of others. But I never meant for you to feel this way, not you."
The wall of pain you had built began to crack under the weight of his words. "I’ll change. From now on, I’ll listen to what you have to say. In fact, tell me that plan you were going to propose earlier."
A pause lingered, but then, with a sigh, he added: "But before that, there’s something more important."
His words echoed in the silence before Silco took you by the waist, pulling you toward him. He kissed you with a passion that overflowed with unspoken apologies, a fire that spoke of promises of change and a renewed understanding between you both.
Mel
The luxurious bedroom was bathed in soft lights that enhanced the golden and ivory tones of the walls. You turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress flowed around your body, highlighting your curves and cascading elegantly in a fabric waterfall. The excitement of the night reflected in your eyes, waiting for Mel's approval.
When you stepped out of the dressing room, the smile on your lips quickly faded as you noticed the disapproving expression on her face. Mel looked you up and down, her gaze critical and stern. "Take it off," she ordered in a cold, distant tone. "Put on the one I chose for you."
You frowned, surprised. "Why? What's wrong with this one?"
"It’s not that there's anything wrong with it," she replied, crossing her arms with an air of authority. "It’s just not what I want for you tonight. Change your makeup and hairstyle as well. Something more sophisticated would be better."
The heat rushed to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Nothing I do is good enough for you, right?" you exclaimed, your eyes sparking with indignation. "It feels like you always have to correct me."
Mel raised an eyebrow, her voice firm and unapologetic. "You should be grateful. I'm helping you make the most of your appearance. I need us to be perfect tonight."
"You mean you need to be perfect," you corrected, unbuckling your heels and throwing them to the floor with a sharp sound. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Without waiting for a response, you made your way to the terrace, needing fresh air to calm the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside you. The cool breeze caressed your face as you leaned on the railing, trying to hold back tears.
It wasn’t long before Mel appeared behind you, her elegant silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. "Why are you acting like this?" she asked, her voice softer now, but still tinged with confusion.
"Seriously, Mel?" you turned to face her, your voice shaking with frustration. "Nothing I do seems right to you. You always correct me—the way I walk, the way I talk, and now even the color of my lipstick. It’s extreme and stupid."
Mel looked at you with a mix of surprise and reflection, as if your words had struck her for the first time. "I hadn’t thought of it that way," she finally admitted, her voice quieter. "I guess... I’m really hard on myself, and I project it onto others."
You took a deep breath, your eyes still shining with contained emotion. "I don’t want you to be like that with me. I’m not an extension of your standards, Mel."
Silence stretched between you for a moment before Mel took a step forward, enveloping you in a firm, comforting hug. "I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You’re fine just as you are, and I apologize for projecting my insecurities onto you."
You leaned into her, feeling the tension slowly fade. "I understand," you replied softly. "I know you were raised to be perfect. But please, when you feel those things, communicate them in a different way. Don’t impose them."
Mel nodded, her gaze meeting yours with a mix of regret and affection. "I will," she promised. "Please, come with me to the party. Without you, I won’t have the strength to go."
You hesitated for a moment, looking at yourself with insecurity. Mel noticed and gently cupped your face in her hands. "That dress looks amazing on you," she said with a warm smile. "It highlights everything I love about you."
Her words and the kiss that followed dispelled any doubt, filling you with renewed confidence as you agreed to accompany her, knowing this time, you would go as yourself, not as a perfected version to satisfy Mel's standards.
Sevika
The apartment door opened slowly, revealing Sevika's figure in the dim light. She walked in with tired steps, the weight of the night reflecting on her shoulders. You, who had been waiting patiently for her return, stood up from the couch with relief, but as you approached to embrace her, something stopped you. A strange scent, sweet and foreign, emanated from her skin, a fragrance that didn’t belong to any perfume you knew her to wear.
Your heart raced as you took a slight step back, your eyes fixed on her. "Who were you with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, although a mix of anxiety and distrust began to rise within you.
Sevika looked at you in surprise, not understanding the reason for your unease. "I was at the bar, drinking. My ex joined me, we talked a bit, had a good time." She said it with such casualness that every word pierced you like a poisoned dart.
Anger began to bubble up inside you. "Why are you talking about it so casually?" you spat, feeling your voice start to tremble.
She frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
"You shouldn’t have gone out with your ex!" you exclaimed, frustration coloring your words. "You owe me respect."
Sevika crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "I do what I want," she replied coldly. "If you don’t trust me, maybe you should leave."
Your eyes widened at her comment. The idea of walking out that door tempted you, but sadness and rage kept you rooted to the ground. "Is that what you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking. "For me to leave?"
Sevika seemed to realize the weight of her words. She took a step toward you, extending her hand as if trying to stop you. "Wait, I didn’t mean that," she murmured, her tone softer, almost pleading. "You know I’m impulsive."
"Of course, impulsive... and nostalgic too," you replied bitterly, your eyes burning with contained pain. "You miss your ex, don’t you? You want to get back together with her?"
She frowned, stepping closer until her hands rested on your shoulders. "What’s your problem?" she asked, her voice low but firm. "Why are you saying all these things?"
The emotions you had kept under control for so long finally exploded. "Because I’ve been cheated on before!" you confessed, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "I know the patterns when I see them. I don’t want to feel stupid and used again."
The hardness in Sevika’s expression melted away, replaced by deep understanding. Her hands, once firm, slid down your arms in a gesture of comfort. "I’m not those people, you shouldn’t compare me to anyone," she said, her voice firm but full of empathy. "If I didn’t want to be with you, I would tell you. I don’t need to lie to anyone. I love you, only you."
Her sincerity pierced your insecurities, breaking down the wall of fear you had built. Still, doubts lingered. "Then why did you go out with her?" you asked, still needing an explanation.
"Because it was a coincidence," Sevika explained, her gaze sincere. "We ran into each other by chance, and I thought there was nothing wrong with sharing a couple of drinks. But now I see it bothers you, and I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel this way."
Her words resonated within you, slowly calming the internal storm. You nodded, allowing the warmth of her promise to envelop you. "I want to believe in you," you whispered.
Sevika stepped closer, her lips finding yours in a deep kiss, full of promises and silent regrets. When she pulled away, her soft voice broke the trance. "Are you better?" she asked, gently caressing your cheek.
"I'll be better when you take a shower and get that cheap perfume off," you joked, your tone still slightly irritated but with a hint of humor.
Sevika laughed, a low, guttural sound that echoed in the space between you. She pulled you by the waist, drawing you even closer. "Then I’m going to need your help," she whispered in your ear, her voice laden with seduction. "Tonight, I feel especially incapable."
Your smile widened, a spark of mischief lighting your eyes. "I guess I can help with that," you murmured, letting the intimacy of the moment take over, knowing that despite everything, you were in the place you wanted to be: by her side.
#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#arcane imagine#arcane x female reader#arcane#arcane fluff#arcane x you#ekko arcane#viktor x you#viktor imagine#viktor x y/n#viktor arcane#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#viktor x reader#vi arcane#vi x you#vi x reader#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#jayce arcane#jayce x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#arcane silco#mel x reader#mel arcane#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x you
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Die with a Smile
For @anonymous-existences who asked for a "Die with a Smile" by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga using Spirt Halloween ship. Hope you like it!
Danny remembers being alive, but it was a distant memory as if he had woken from a wonderful dream. He could recall no scents or tastes from his time being flesh and bone, but he remembered sights and sometimes, if he was lucky a few sounds.
The sound of his sister singing. His father's laughter. His mother's humming. His best friend's fingers tap on his keyboard. His other best friend's plants when the water of her watering can fell over their leaves.
Danny held all the sounds dear to his heart, even if he could not remember their names or voices. Just their faces, smiles, and the warmth in their eyes before the car accident. Danny had been a Halfa from the age of fourteen, but twenty years later, he had died in a collision caused by a drunk driver, turning into a complete ghost.
Like all his previous adversaries, Danny could no longer return to the human world willy-nilly. He had reformed after he died in the Zone, becoming one of its citizens, anchored to the Realms between Death and Life.
He needed a gateway made by a mortal who willingly invited him through. All natural portals were nice, but it was a one-way. Anyone could pass through them to the Realms, not vice versa.
His parents had unknowingly created an open invitation when they stabilized their portal, allowing ghosts to run a rampage in the city. Danny doesn't remember why they had made it, but he wishes it was still there so he could see them again.
So that he could feel the deep love so evident in the glimpses and flashes of their faces that ran through his mind. He couldn't find his way back, so he spent years looking. He was one of the few ghosts that had no anchored haunt. Danny spends all eternity flying through the Realms in search of the love that he had once felt.
He lost count of how long ago that was. But along the way, he picked up other various wonders.
A bag that opens to his pocket of cosmos is flung over his shoulder. A long cloak that protected him from the scorching heat, freezing blizzards, howling winds, and drowning rain. A glimmering book that recorded his adventures in the consultations. And many new friends who have been in the Realms for so long they had developed their own culture and given birth to generations that knew nothing of the mortal realm.
Danny's ghost's name had also faded from his mind, knowing he used to answer something when he was fourteen. He is grateful that his birth name stays with him, even if he does not know his surname.
He now went as the Wander. Always searching for something he did not know if he could hold, let alone own. Wander grew in power, for his death had brought along all the ectoplasm of his Halfa days, and while his travels were relatively peaceful, there were times he needed to fight his way through.
He has never been defeated.
That was Danny's experience now. Wander, find adventure, find friends, find new incredible sights, become saddened that the new things didn't match the love he set on a pedestal, and wander again.
Over and over. Never lingering for too long. Never belonging.
Just lost in the endless void of the Realms.
Then, Danny had run into him.
A human had fallen through a portal caused by unnatural means. It was due to being attacked by a monstrous tyrant that was threatening his world. Omega Beam radiation polluted the portal, and for a second, Danny had thought he had finally found a stable way into the human world.
But alas, when he approached it, an invisible force kept him from leaving the Realms. Its constant flickering and electrical crackles mocked him, even if the scene behind the portal depicted a broken world.
Danny wanted nothing more than to fly through the human world, feel all those fantastic emotions, and live again. He pushed and pushed against the force field; however, there was no open invitation. He could not pass through the portal.
The human that fell after being pushed by the sudden explosion could. Danny had caught him and nursed him back to health, and when he awakened, he was struck dumb by those intense, intelligent eyes.
Batman was the name the human gave him, and for a few months, that was what Danny called him. The way to his home, an Earth called Gotham, had closed as soon as the omega beams had vanished. Batman was beside himself, attempting to find another portal.
As the man was living without means of flight between islands, Danny offered to take him to a few natural portals. He warned him that even if he could enter said portals, there was no guarantee he would be back when he vanished.
Portals bend time and space. They may appear in the same spot, but it was also a gamble of when that would be. Batman had no care, taking Danny's offer, and the two went off on a new adventure.
The broken pieces of an endless city was the connection between the Realms and Batman's Gotham. It took some time before Batman admitted that the city they traveled through - as, for some reason, the city bounds stopped Danny's flight - was his beloved city. It was an exact duplicated, over and over again as time moved on in the mortal world; this one copied every new development without removing the old one.
It merely expanded right next to the old building. The natural portals across the range were unstable, lasting only a few seconds before Batman was forced to throw himself back into the Realm or he got stuck at the wrong time.
Batman left a clue at every stop the portal gave him, claiming one of his children would notice and help find a way to bring him home. Danny wasn't so sure, but if the human found comfort in the thought, he would not be the one to burst his bubble.
As for Danny, the familiar emptiness that came with the urge to move on never showed itself. He found comfort in the footsteps of Batman. He found glee in the laughter around the small fires they make in the destroyed streets, void of any color.
Danny had forgotten most colors, so used to the Grey's, blacks, whites and dark purples of the Realms but the way Batman spoke of it made him think back to the reds blues yellows and greens he had not realized he missed.
Slowly, his journal filled itself with nothing but the mortal he had found.
Batman survived on what little they could find in the broken streets of his colorless home. He seemed disgruntled by the silence of the repeating streets, the obvious signs of violence that never quite healed in his city.
After a while, Danny realized he felt whole again. As if a part of his soul had been returned. Batman did not bring him back to life, but he made him feel alive.
Danny informed him it meant the land was cursed, but that only earned him a cold glare and a sharp bite of beef jerky from a gas station with its window smashed in. Their travels continued, with Danny dreaming of the five sounds he could recall of his loved ones- he did not need food anymore as a ghost, but he did need sleep. His core required recharge- realizing a new sound had been added.
The sound of Batman's soft taps as he marched on, searching for a way home.
Danny created a new constellation for him. He named it the Lost Vengence. It seemed right, even if Batman rarely spoke.
A few months of them together, Batman had wandered into an air that exploded with green grass. He grasped for his belt, but whatever he was searching for wasn't there, and he fell to his knees screaming.
Danny, who hadn't breathed it in, had rushed him over to a crumbled hospital, strapping the human down and panicking over his state. He was no doctor, but if he left Batman alone to get help, leaving the area that didn't allow him to fly would take far too long, and Batman would die.
Already, his heart was beating too fast for a human. Danny had ripped off his strange mask, trying to get him out of the clothes covered in the green goo, but it didn't do much. All that was left was a human- a handsome human- screaming his head off.
Eventually, Danny realized that his journal may have the answer. He could not always remember what he recorded, but if he asked it to, it would pull up records of adventures he may have forgotten.
There was a method of passing on his healing that Frostbite once shared with him long before his death. He pressed his hands over Batman's chest, not with his palms but with his soul, and prayed the human would accept it.
A few minutes later, Danny's ectoplasm had sunk through the skin and cleaned out the effects of the strange grass. Batman slumped against the metal table, breathing heavily and sweating profoundly, but he stared up at Danny as if he were bestowing an angel.
Since ectoplasm was purely emotional, no words had to be shared between them to know Danny had wanted to save him more than anything. Had felt the way Batman made him feel complete.
"My name is Bruce Wayne," Batman had told him later that night while the pair looked through a mall that seemed to have been flooded. The water splashed against their mid-calfs, slowly picking their way through the new clothes that Bruce could wear.
His soft smile filled up to his core, and neither mentioned the way the distance between them closed or the fingers that laced together,but Danny knew he had found it.
What he had been searching for all these years.
Bruce would sometimes stop them in the nicer parts of his city- places that merely went out of business instead of being broken down- and treat him to the few things he had forgotten of the human world.
An ice cream parlor had been stripped clean, but the owners had left one fringe with three tubs of ice cream. As time was frozen, it was good to eat, and Danny realized that while he did not need food, he did enjoy it. Bruce was sensitive to the weather that changed every few hundred miles.
In the parts with ice and snow, he curled up on Danny's chest, protected by the cloak that expanded to cover them. In the fires, he was carried on Danny's back, the fabric of the cloak protecting him from burning while Danny's hair flickers snowflakes for him to breathe.
Other times, he merely liked holding hands because he, too, felt whole with Danny.
Then they came upon a part of town that belonged to Bruce's third youngest son. He called it the Nest, and a date and time was carved on the wall. His son had found a way to stabilize a portal, and he planned to pull Bruce back home.
The boy thought Bruce was trapped in the past, but his rescue would still work. Bruce could finally return to the humans.
He understood. Danny had lived his life. Now, it was time for Bruce to finish his.
"Will you go? Would you leave me?" Danny knew the answer to his questions the second he looked into Bruce's eyes. It cracked something deep inside, but he was not angry or feeling betrayed.
"I'm sorry," Bruce whispers, tracing his hand on the curve of Danny's cheek. The ghost leans on it, wishing, not for the first time that he had the sensation of touch again. He only gets brief impressions of something against him, but Danny can not feel the texture of Bruce's clauses.
The warmth of his skin.
"Don't be. This was the best part of my existence in a long time. You were everything that I had forgotten about love."
He knew humans were warm. He remembers a tiny moment when his sister's fingers in his hair comforted him.
But he could not remember what their warmth felt like.
Bruce's face crumbled before it softened. "I'm not gone yet. We have a few hours."
"Just three," Danny whispered, looking at the numbers on Bruce's watch. He had set a countdown to when Tim would activate the machine- the portal- that only called Bruce home. Since the boy did not know it wasn't a time issue but a different reality, he had unintentionally made it with only Bruce in mind.
The force keeping all ghosts like Danny in the Realms wouldn't let him enter.
"I know how I want to spend them." Bruce found a record player broken in the movie theater beside his son's shining new hideout. Apparently, it was the one that had been abandoned in Bruce's youth.
It played a lovely old, slow dance from the forties that echoed through the dusted room, surrounding them in its soft, wistful melody. Bruce guided Danny to the center of the stage- the only place not covered in dust or supplies- and carefully bent him into an elegant dip.
At that moment, Danny and Bruce were all that existed in the broken-ended city of Gotham's past.
A smile blooms on Danny's face, twirling around the man who caught him and guided him, saying without words how much he adored Danny. The unsaid words between them meant nothing in the face of their world ending, but their smiles made up for it.
Danny's book had fallen open at one point, his collected stars and cosmos flying out to surround the pair as they swayed and slowly danced. He felt the thumping of Bruce's heart against his chest, pressing closer to record the feeling in his core and soul.
Song after song. Step, spin, sway, dip, intelligent eyes that watched him with the same amount of wishful longing and bright, loving smile.
"I could die again," Danny told him, hands on Bruce's shoulders and the human hands on his hip.
"I am," Bruce whispered back as his clock started beeping. They had ten seconds left. "I want you to remember me with a smile."
"Of course." Danny leaned back only far enough that when he pushed his face against Bruce's, their lips sealed in a burst of incredible, indescribable sensations. All at once, it's like sounds, feelings, tastes, and sights rush back at him, making him feel as if life was being breathed back into him, only for it to vanish as Bruce's body slowly fades away.
He leans back after his hands pass through Bruce's body, no longer anchored enough in the Realms to hold, and gives him the brightest smile he can muster. Neither mentions the tears rolling down their faces as he whispers.
"The party is over, and our time on this Earth is through, but I'll love you. For all eternity. I always do when I think of those who are still alive." Danny watches him fade away in soft, gentle sparks that he would later gather and shift into stardust.
He places them in Gotham's skies so Bruce can have a tiny part of him, even though he cannot see it. Danny turns around and marches back towards the realms.
The Wander must find a new purpose.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Die with a Smile#Part 1#spirt halloween ship#TW: Main charater death#Danny misses his human side#Bruce fell in love but he has a life to live#They were only meant a little while#slight angst#bittersweet ending?#Tim brings Bruce home#Danny is unaware he's an Accient since he can effect the living world even if he can't travel to it
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Pagtingin! . hyun-ju
" When I reveal my feelings I hope your opinion of me won't change When I confess my secrets I hope your opinion of me won't change " - patingin by ben&ben
in which . in which Hyun-ju comes back after the events of the game and she happens to bump into her partner who she left without an explanation.
cho hyun-ju x reader (fem) . angst/fluff
based off . ♡
Strolling through the busy streets, you stumbled upon your favorite café. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of coffee and vanilla, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Sweet bossa nova music played softly in the background, blending with the gentle hum of conversations. It was the perfect day to settle down and work in the cozy atmosphere of the café. After ordering your usual coffee and sweet treats, you made your way to a nearby table by the window.
Taking your seat, you gazed out at the bustling street. Sure, it might seem cliché to some—a solitary figure at a window seat in a café—but to you, it was a small joy. The window wasn’t just a pane of glass; it was a lens into the endless stories unfolding outside. Watching strangers go about their lives, you found yourself imagining their worlds. Two girls walked past in school uniforms—you guessed they were high schoolers, maybe around fourteen or fifteen. Your eyes followed a middle-aged man pedaling his bike, his neatly pressed office attire suggesting he worked in accounting or something similar.
It fascinated you how everyone’s lives were so different from your own. Each person outside that window carried a story you’d never fully know, lives that were nothing like yours—boring, miserable, yet oddly peaceful and happy in their own way. And for a moment, watching them, you felt connected to something bigger, as though their differences somehow brought you closer to understanding your own quiet existence.
Your thoughts suddenly come to an end when you hear a group of people laughing next to you. You wish you had your earbuds with you to drown out the sounds but the gods were against you and made you forget to bring it. Wallowing in your sadness, you heard a familiar laugh coming from the table next to you and it made your mind race, turning to the table next to you…
It was her. For a moment, you froze, your breath hitching in your chest. Oh, how you wished this was a dream—because it certainly felt like one. A dream so vivid, so achingly beautiful, that the thought of waking up filled you with dread. But it wasn’t a dream. The world around you blurred and faded, leaving only her, like the central figure in a watercolor painting.
And then you heard it, her laughter. That soft, melodic sound you thought you’d forgotten but never truly could. It was like a gentle breeze carrying fragments of your past, filling you with a bittersweet ache. That laughter brought you back to a time when everything felt lighter, simpler, and whole. Nostalgia crashed into you, raw and unrelenting, pulling at the corners of your heart.
You wanted to move, to say something, but all you could do was sit there, drinking in the moment. That sound, that sight of her—it was a warmth you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. And for just an instant, you allowed yourself to believe that this wasn’t just a fleeting memory or a trick of your longing mind but something real, something you could hold onto, even if only for a little while.
You hadn’t realized how long your gaze had been fixed on her until you noticed she was looking back at you. Her almond-shaped brown eyes met yours, locking you in place. She gave you a smile like before, but your mind drifted to how beautiful and ethereal she looked as the sun from the window embraced her figure. Her hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, the soft simple makeup making her look beautiful. You felt like you were seeing an angel for the first time, you felt like you were seeing her for the first time. And it made her heart skip a beat. You noticed how she excused herself to her friends and she was now making her way towards your table, quickly you moved your laptop and notepad away, your fingers running through your hair as you fixed it and made it look more presentable.
“Hi…” Hyun-ju said shyly, looking right at you with a soft smile, you looked up from your notepad and gave her a tight smile. Awkward silence filled the air as the tall woman stood still in front of your table, you took notice and felt bad. You motioned your hand to the empty chair in front of you indicating that she can take that seat. Another set of awkward silence filled the coffee shop, the tension was so thick you felt as if coming to this cafe was a mistake.
“You look beautiful today.”
The words hung in the air, soft but sincere, making Hyun-ju pause. Her eyes flickered to you, but you avoided her gaze, focusing instead on the cup in your hands. Still, the familiar warmth spread through her chest. Hearing you call her beautiful always meant the world to her. It was a reminder that you saw her, loved her, just as she was. Yet, the pang of guilt was unavoidable. She had walked away without a word, leaving behind questions that she still couldn’t answer.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes caught the faint smile tugging at your lips, and something shifted. A flicker of hope sparked within her, a fragile belief that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to mend what had been broken.
As if on cue, both of you started speaking at the same time, your voices overlapping awkwardly. You exchanged startled glances before bursting into quiet laughter, the sound breaking the tension between you. It was a silly, fleeting moment, but it carried a strange weight. For a second, it felt like you were teenagers again, stumbling through the nerves of a first date. Or perhaps it was just the awkwardness of two people who once knew each other so well, trying to find their footing again.
You stole another glance at Hyun-ju, and the sight of her hit you harder than you expected. The ache in your chest flared up, a sharp reminder of the emptiness her absence had left behind. No matter how much you had tried to fill that void, it had never worked. And now, sitting here with her, you couldn’t help but wonder if that missing piece had always been her.
But words refused to come. Your throat tightened, the lump there stubbornly blocking every thought, every feeling you wanted to voice. The two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down. Yet, in the quiet, there was something unbreakable—a connection that time and distance hadn’t erased.
You hear Hyun-ju clear her throat, you glance at her as she says, “I…I miss you, it’s been a while.” It made you smile a bit despite the hurt you were feeling inside, “I miss you too.” You said softly, as your thumb caresses the warm cup of coffee. You never felt this wave of emotions before, something so bittersweet. Sadness and hurt was evident on your face and Hyun-ju can clearly see it.
Your teary eyes locked with hers. “Funny, isn’t it? It’s been five weeks. Five weeks since I last heard from you.” Your voice wavered, though you tried to mask it with a frown. “And now, here you are, showing up as if nothing happened.” The words came out colder than you intended, laced with the bitterness that had been festering in the void her absence left behind.
Hyun-ju stood frozen, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came. What could she even say? Would you believe her if she told you the truth? That she had been kidnapped, thrust into a series of deadly games because of her debts and her desperation to complete her transition? That she had watched countless lives end in horrifying ways, the weight of survival pressing down on her with every passing second?
You noticed the flicker of conflict in her expression, and it only fueled your frustration. “Look,” you said sharply, “if you don’t want to deal with this—us—it’s fine. Just say it.” Your voice cracked, but before you could say more, Hyun-ju cut you off.
“Y/N.” Her voice was firm, but there was a tremor in it. “I never said I didn’t want this. Or that I wanted it to be over. You mean too much to me.” Her gaze dropped, her voice softening. “You… you wouldn’t understand. That’s the problem.”
“Understand what, Hyun-ju?” you snapped, your frustration boiling over. “You can’t just show up and expect me to be okay after you disappeared without a word. No call, no text, nothing. Five weeks, Hyun-ju. Five.” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists, your voice growing harsher. “Do you know how hard I tried to find you? How much I worried? Don’t tell me I don’t understand when you’re not even telling me what I’m supposed to understand.”
Your words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the fragile tension like a blade. You didn’t want to sound this harsh, but the hurt, confusion, and stress had built up too much to hold back. It wasn’t just the absence that hurt—it was the silence, the unanswered questions, the sense that she had left you in the dark without a second thought.
The tone of your voice cut through Hyun-ju’s heart more deeply than you could ever know. Her chest ached with guilt, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She had thought leaving without a word was the right thing to do—a way to protect you from the chaos of her life. But now, facing the consequences, she realized how wrong she had been. Immature. Thoughtless.
“I just…” Her voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore… that I’d be a disgrace to you, the way I am to everyone else.” Her words were soft, almost as if she was afraid of saying them out loud, afraid of the weight they carried.
Hearing her broke something in you. You had been so consumed by your own pain, your own confusion, that you hadn’t stopped to see hers. In that moment, you realized it wasn’t just you who had been hurting. She had been carrying her own burden of fear and self-doubt, silently tearing herself apart. And now, her vulnerability was laid bare, raw and trembling in front of you.
“You deserve someone better than me, Y/N,” Hyun-ju whispered, her voice trembling. “You can’t be in a relationship with someone like me—”
Before she could finish, you reached out, gently taking her soft, larger hand in yours. “Stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I don’t care, Hyun-ju. I don’t care about any of that.”
Your thumb gently traced small circles over her hand, grounding both of you in the moment. “I love you for who you are. Every part of you. To me, you’re perfect—the most beautiful woman in the world. And honestly, it amazes me every single day that you chose someone like me to be with you.”
A tear slipped down your cheek as you gave her a soft, heartfelt smile. It wasn’t just your words that spoke—it was the way you looked at her, as if she was the only person in the world who mattered.
Hyun-ju let out a choked sob, gripping your hand tightly as if you might disappear. “I just… I thought that one day you’d wake up and realize you deserve someone better. That—That you’d see I’m not enough for you because I’m not perfect.” Her voice cracked as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “This body… this body that I’ve fought so hard for, it’s still not enough. People look at me and see a lie, a joke. I thought maybe one day you’d see me the same way, and it would break me, Y/N. It would destroy me.”
Her words came in waves, each one laced with years of pain and fear. “You deserve someone who doesn’t have to fight to exist. Someone who doesn’t carry the kind of baggage I do. I’ve seen the way people stare at us when we’re together. The way they judge you just for loving me. And I thought… maybe you’d get tired of it. Of me. Of always having to defend me, to fight for me. I thought you’d leave, and I didn’t think I’d survive it.”
Her voice grew softer, trembling as she continued. “You have no idea what it’s like… to constantly wonder if the people who love you will stop when they finally see you for who you really are.”
The raw vulnerability in her words cut through you like a knife. God, it pained you to see her like this. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and moved to her side. Kneeling down, you gently placed your fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she could meet your gaze.
“Oh, love,” you murmured, your voice soft yet steady. “I will never, ever leave you. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me?” You brushed away the tears streaming down her face, your touch gentle and reassuring. “You are enough, Hyun-ju. You’re more than enough. You’re the bravest woman I know. You’ve fought battles most people couldn’t even imagine, and you’ve come out stronger every time.”
You gave her a soft smile, hoping it could reach the cracks in her heart. “You’re my Hyun-ju. The one who fills my life with warmth and love. The one who makes those incredible meals so I don’t have to spend a dime eating out. And the one who makes me laugh when I don’t even think I can smile.”
Your thumb stroked her cheek as you looked into her tear-filled eyes. “I don’t care what the world thinks, or what anyone says. I see you, Hyun-ju. I love you. Every single part of you. And nothing, nothing will ever change that.”
In that moment, you weren’t just offering her words—you were offering her a piece of your soul, a promise that no matter what storms came your way, you would face them together.
“I love you, Hyun-ju. All of you. Your body, your personality—everything. I love you,” you whispered, your voice steady and filled with sincerity.
You leaned in slowly, giving her a moment to meet you halfway. As your lips met hers, the kiss was tender, a gentle melding of emotions rather than just a physical gesture. It was soft but full of meaning, as if you were pouring all the love, reassurance, and devotion you felt into that single moment.
Her lips trembled against yours, and you could feel the faint taste of salt from her tears, but neither of you pulled away. Instead, you cupped her face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the wet trails on her cheeks. She responded hesitantly at first, as though afraid to believe this was real, but then her hands found their way to your arms, holding onto you as though grounding herself in your presence.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, her breath mingling with yours. “You’re my everything, Hyun-ju,” you said softly, gazing into her tearful eyes. “Always.”
“I love you too.”
You smiled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “How about I buy you that favorite dessert of yours?” you offered, your voice light and filled with affection.
Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a reassuring squeeze before flashing her a smile—one of those rare, genuine smiles that you saved just for her. It was the kind of smile that spoke volumes, one that told her she was cherished, loved, and safe with you.
As you walked out of the café, your gaze lingered on Hyun-ju, unable to help but admire her once more. You silently thanked the gods for blessing you with such a wonderful partner, vowing to do anything for her.
a/n . i told myself I was going to make a part two of mesmerized but I honestly got kind of lazy...and this prompt I could not stop thinking about it. This is my first time writing angst since i'm more of a writer who loves writing tooth rottening fluff....LOL
#cho hyun ju#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyun-ju#cho hyunju#cho hyunju x reader#hyun ju#hyun ju x reader#hyun-ju x reader#hyunju#hyunju x reader#squid game x reader#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game 2#squid game hyun-ju#squid game hyun ju#player 120#i love my wife so much#she's the love of my life#pls marry me
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Hiii! Could you please write some hurt comfort hero and villain? Where it has a “who did this to you” vibes! Thanks! No pressure if you don’t want to!
"You look..." The villain's gaze travelled slowly up the hero, taking in the hard lines of them, the uncanny iciness that had replaced a once warm, familiar face. "Different."
"And you look like hell. Let's get you out of here."
Despite the fact that the hero had just blown the villain's chains to smithereens, the villain didn't move. They leaned heavily against the cold concrete wall of their cell, still staring.
The hero's fingers flexed agitated at their sides.
"I can - if you're hurt, I can help you stand. I don't - you're safe now."
It was like an act they didn't know how to play any more. The script was the same, but the tongue behind the words was a sharper thing. A whittled thing. Made hard and venomous with desperation. Like the world had taken an axe to everything that made the hero them and started hacking.
"Who did this to you?" the villain demanded.
"What?"
"You're all..." Their head lolled, as they tried to tilt it customarily to one side. Their broken fingers hurt too much to wiggle them effectively in the hero's direction, but they did their best. "Not you. All..."
"They hurt you," the hero said. Flat. Deadly.
The villain wet their cracked, swollen lips. Their voice came out raspy. "I heard screaming."
"Yeah." Something dark and protective simmered in the hero's eyes. It looked awfully a lot like 'they deserved it'. Like how the villain's eyes used to look, through a mirror darkly, until the pain scorched through everything cold and steely inside them.
"You killed people. You killed...you came for me."
"We need to go," the hero said, through gritted teeth. "We need to get you out of here. Come on." The hero ducked down, only to falter when their gruff tug immediately made the villain's whole world go fuzzy with hurting. The touch turned gentle as the villain flinched. The hero's hands floundered, like they no longer knew the language of caring, but still remembered that they wanted to try.
A stupid prickle of tears stung the villain's eyes.
"Who did this to you? Who-"
"-Please," the hero said. "Put your arms around me. You need to work with me here. Please."
The villain wrapped their aching arms around the hero's shoulders. The hero lifted them up, holding them oh so carefully. Being upright was still enough to make the villain's vision pop and then blacken.
When they regained consciousness, they were walking through a slaughter house. Blood everywhere. As if a hurricane given teeth and claws had ripped through the building.
"Did I do this?" the villain asked.
"No, love."
But that wasn't quite right.
"No, I mean - I was gone," the villain said. Their head felt so fuzzy with everything they had been given, but the sharp edges of the hero were so clear, if only they could find the words to paint the picture half as well, let the knowledge swirling inside them settle. "You were on your own. How long have you been trying to rescue me?"
"It's going to be alright, okay? I've got you. You're alright."
"Are you?"
"I'm not the one who's been tortured!" It came out a snap, and maybe the villain should have flinched after an eternity of raised voices and raised weapons, but they didn't.
"You don't do so well on your own," the villain said instead, softly. "You never have."
The hero's throat bobbed as they swallowed, convulsive, choking something down. "Don't."
The villain raised a hand, rubbing their thumb over the gaunt line of the hero's face.
The hero flinched back.
"It's going to be alright," the villain said. "You're going to be alright. I've got you."
"You -" The hero laughed then, a broken thing. They jerked their head to the side but it didn't hide the tears glinting in their eyes. "Maybe let's not focus on me right now. You were - what they did to you - they told that they - I should have got here faster."
"I'm sorry they used me against you."
"Don't."
"Tell me their names?"
"They're all dead."
"Tell me anyway."
"I killed them."
"I know, love. Tell me anyway."
The hero swore, but the villain could practically watch some life creep back into those icy eyes. Some horror. Some thing that wasn't a stranger. Their hero. The hero held them a little tighter, cradling them a little closer against their chest.
"Just - later. Let me get you help. You need help."
Well, the villain couldn't argue with that. Still. Their own body didn't feel half as perturbing as the way the hero's eyes iced over again, determined to see through the job, to not shatter no matter what they'd done to get to where they were. To get the villain back. To save them.
They tucked themselves closer to the hero's chest, to their heart - thumping proof of life, proof of hope, proof that maybe they hadn't entirely lost the thing they cared about most of all.
Who did this to you?
But the villain didn't really need to ask.
The answer was always their own name.
#not quite hurt/comfort#but it's something#comfort was attempted by both parties#hero x villain#villain x hero#heroes and villains#villains and heroes#hero and villain#villain and hero#writing snippet#my writing#story snippet
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Sevika Drabble MDNI 18+
This is my first post so ofc it had to be my bby sevika.
At no point did I know what was doing, and I lost the plot several times. Enjoy!
Warnings ) kinda bad writing, literally no plot, fem!reader , dry humping ( but It gets wet iykwim ), oral r!receiving , 20 something reader x late 30’s - mid 40’s sevika
Being the infamous woman she is you were always aware of her existence. You’ve even passed her in the street once or twice.
But this time was different.
As cliche as it might sound a bolt of lighting ran through you as your eyes met.
The chaotic chattering of the market disappeared leaving only silence, and her.
Sevika visibly halted, her stoic expression shifting into a knowing smirk.
You had hardly taken a full breath before she was standing a foot away, her eyes lit up, uncharacteristically inviting. Was this really Slico’s dangerous and ruthless right-hand (wo)man you had heard people mention so fearfully?
That day she flirted with her entire being, calling you “a pretty little thing” as she paid for your groceries and carried them to your apartment. Making a mental note to lecture you later on your stupidly trusting nature.
You both paused awkwardly outside your apartment complex,
“ Could I take you out someti-“
You cut her off inviting her up for a glass of water something about “ standing out in the sun so long .” You both knew it was a lie, heavy grey clouds hanging above your heads. She didn’t look up.
That day she toyed with you for hours.
High-pitched moans rang out through your living room.
Sevika roughly pulled your hips back and forth against her upper thigh. Your prior orgasm soaked through your jeans onto hers, leaving a dark grey splotch in its wake.
“ Ohh fuck” you were practically squealing, the stitching of your jeans catching your clit perfectly.
The slightly uncomfortable feeling of wet denim only added to the eroticism.
“ You sound so pretty, baby.”
Sevika canted her hips up shamelessly grinding against your knee.
“ Fuck that’s good, mmmh “Her groans became whiney as she stopped moving your hips, squeezing them in her hold, focused on taking her pleasure.
Her body shuddered as she came, hips never stopping while she chased the tail end of her climax.
Your cunt clenched at her blissed-out face and heavy moans.
You subconsciously began to swivel your hips and quickly you could feel the approach of your orgasm.
“Fuck baby uh-hhh you gonna come for me?” Her flesh hand slid up to your ass grabbing a harsh handful and effectively pushing you into her.
She leaned up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was loud and messy, spit gathering between your lips.
You were babbling into her mouth.
“Vika pleaseee ohhh please”
“ You do not have to beg pretty baby, come for me “
She held eye contact while she flexed the muscles in her leg effectively bringing you to orgasm.
In that moment the world disappeared no thoughts of anything but here and now, fully present with the beautiful woman under you.
Finally, she sagged onto the couch resting her head along the wall behind it (she tall asf )
Heavy-lidded grey eyes staring so intensely and that fucking smirk.
Once she caught her breath she scooped you in her arms effortlessly. ( no matter your weight bc she is BEEFY)
Stopping along the way to the bedroom to put both pairs of pants soaked in your essence in the wash.
While your clothes were washing she cleaned up her mess, with you sitting on top of the dryer
She licked, sucked, and slurped your throbbing clit. Looking up at you the entire time
“ Fuck baby this little cunt might be sweeter than you”
Thick fingers breached your walls with little to no resistance, your previous orgasms left you sopping.
She relentlessly pounded your g-spot, fingers bending in a rapid come hither movement.
By the time the spin cycle began, you had completely lost count of how many times you had cum.
She gave you a break of course.
The 5-ish seconds it took her to finish her journey to your bedroom.
You bounced as she tossed you onto the bed carelessly.
“ Strip “ an order
Not a question nor a request
You should’ve been embarrassed at how obediently you listened but as she began taking off the rest of her clothes, not a single thought appeared in your mind.
Her sculpted figure somehow made you wetter than you were
Thick muscular thighs that could crush you and oh how you wish they would.
Her Meech arm rested by her side limply, it was obvious she was being very careful with it, you couldn’t have cared less.
She flexed subtly, rolling her eyes at the way your thighs fell open.
She practically pounced on the bed, uncaring of the way her weight rested along your body.
The pressure was borderline euphoric, your body sunk into the mattress as you floated further away from reality.
Sevike pressed the base of her strap into your cunt. ( idk where the strap came from bear with me )
Bending down to look at the way the tip almost reached your belly button.
Your legs hung heavily over her shoulders as you made out, Vika sawing her heavy cock back and forth over your cunt
Her flesh hand around your neck, not squeezing just holding.
“ Vika pl - please fuck me uhh I need it pleassee”
She could’ve laughed at how pitifully you whined when she declined.
“ Baby what kind of a lady do you take me for, I need to be wined and dined before I give it up.” She said teasingly, quickly squeezing your neck to emphasize her words
She made you cum two more times while her pants dried.
She wiped you down, put your groceries away, changed your sheets, and scheduled your date for that weekend before she left.
However, she came back two days later after a particularly hard night cleaning up after jinx.
She fucked you within an Inch of your life. You entered the restaurant hand in hand, both covered in hickeys and bruises.
Thank you soo much for reading, please excuse the slightly rushed ending lol.
I hope you liked It!
Also please feel free to send some asks!
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if you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? or do you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled .
◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x fem reader
— angst
the room was suffocating, air heavy and filled with tension that had millions of emotions lingered in it. i can't do this— i can't do this. but no matter how many times you try to deny it, the truth was obvious— there was no way of escaping this.
heavy tears fell from your eyes, each drop hitting the cold floor below, as if carrying the weight of your breaking heart. sobs could be heard, your mind was too hazy to even comprehend if it was coming from you or —
se-mi was still, her chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. the weight of her body seemed so much heavier than it had been just hours ago. you held her in your arms while weak cries left her mouth. the smile that had once been constant on her face was now a distant memory, lost to the fading of her strength.
you couldn't handle seeing her like this— so lifeless and numb. your eyes slowly closes, unwilling to bear the sight any longer. soft thuds vibrated from your chest and spreads through your whole body as she desperately tugs on your bloodied shirt.
"don't close your eyes, please. i wanna see you."
you shut them even tighter, her voice making its way to you unclear and distorted. a strained hiss left your mouth as you felt the sharp sting on your abdomen— please stop hitting me, please stop hitting me.
"please, baby, please let me see you this one last time." the soft, shaky voice called out to you, pain evident in her voice. a soft palm was placed gently on your cheek, and you immediately recognized it—the girl you met ten years ago, shared laughter with, cried with, made memories with—who would've thought that she'd be with you til the last breath.
suddenly, memories came in, flooding your mind. what the fuck? you can see a woman, tall and pale, leaning against the wall with a cigarette placed in between her lips. the faint smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, and you could almost smell it clearly—as if you were living in that present. it confused you— you have seen this exact same scene before, very closely similar to the night you and se-mi first met.
your thoughts were interrupted, caused by a loud and blaring buzz as the large doors slid open. heavy footsteps could be heard marching against the floor, echoes filling the almost empty room. they carried a long black box, enough to fit a human inside, as you can hear their steps grow louder and louder.
a soft kiss was gently placed on your forehead. she paused for a while before muttering, "i love you, and will always do."
soon enough, you felt arms separate you from the girl you love most. your breathing slowed as you found it harder to breathe, as if it was the hardest thing in the whole world. se-mi's lifeless eyes stared at your limp figure, her gaze heavy and filled with emotion. your chest rose and fell one last time, before you took your final breath.
the masked men gently placed you down inside the box before money came out of the ceiling, and into the large golden piggy bank.
45,600,000,000 WON
what the fuck was se-mi supposed to do with that? after you secretly took the dinner knife during the evening meal, after you stabbed yourself relentlessly in your abdomen, after she just watched the guards carry the box away, which inside lies the most genuine woman she had ever met, the one and only woman she carries in her heart.
"player 044, eliminated."
"congratulations player 380, you win!"
to my love, se-mi, i would die over and over again to spare you from the cruelties of this world.
from, your love.
𔗨 author's note — eughhhhhhhhhjsjskskskksk ????}??}%]%} BY THE WAY I missEd u guys a little bit toooo muchhh,, blehh !! also, im making a taglist !! comment if you wanna be added or some shit [lowercase intended]
p.s. the title is a quote from the book 'nineteen minutes' by jodi picoult. although i haven't actually read the book, the quote somehow became my favorite.
misa mentions —
@misayani
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🌸Uranus through the houses: what generational curse you are here to break
hey y'all, back with another post. I hope you are doing well :) been very very long since I made a post haha. This post may be rather short? Idk how long it'd be tbh, let's get into it now!
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🌸Uranus in 1st: to break the stigma around being yourself, your "real" self, doing you, what you really want and going against the wind because that is your purpose and calling. Finding yourself, and not hiding it away. Doing everything you desire to, not confronting to societal or traditional norms, being the one of heart
🌸Uranus in 2nd: Speaking up, showing what respect is supposed to mean for one self, initiating the concept of self respect and personal boundaries, re-inventing the relationship with money, material things and desires.
🌸Uranus in 3rd: Big thoughts, innovative thinking. Thinking in a broad manner, against the current circumstances or conditioning. Big dreamers for a reason. Usually either extremely strong or extremely weak relationship with siblings for whatever the reason. New, big ideologies. Breaking the generational thinking patterns.
🌸Uranus in 4th: Someone who would follow their heart. Choosing their chosen family, prioritizing the family they created. Following the spirit of their soul and mind. Bringing reforms in the whole family, changing the family dynamics from their generation and lineage, reforming traditional dogmas and orthodoxes running in the family through generations.
🌸Uranus in 5th: Taking pleasures of life seriously. Being more attuned to your inner voice if it signals you to follow your dreams, hobbies and passions. Leaving this "work until you die" kind of mentality and actually indulging in things you like, following your heart, the rhythm of your soul. Full of creative energy.
🌸Uranus in 6th: Breaking monotony in life, breaking this idea and pattern of stability, security, and predictability in life. Leaving behind the idea of, "tunnel vision", basically. May despise following routines, structures, traditions in life. Usually have spontaneous bursts of energy instead of being consistent per se, usually the "turbulent" types.
🌸Uranus in 7th: for this placement, I feel their spouse or partner would heal patterns more than them. I mean both of you together would change things together, but they would more likely lead or initiate this revolution. Your family may have hard time settling with them, but eventually all would be good.
🌸Uranus in 8th: The way the shadow side of life is treated or talked about. Maybe you grew up in a family where darker things like, death, or other taboo topics were not discussed. This is true for a majority of people who do not have this placement as well, but you would be the one who may introduce them to such ideas and may be in charge of making them comfortable embracing their own shadows, and so you may often experience projection from your family often, because you're triggering their shadows.
🌸Uranus in 9th: Someone who would not accept things taught to them for no reason, without explanation. Other placement that speaks in terms of genetic unwinding. You would change the way upcoming generation thinks. You may question religion, traditions, beliefs a lot, not to ridicule them, but to find their relevance in the current world. Expanding the tunnel vision, the view of the world. You may adapt a different culture or a philosophy than the one you're born with and challenge the idea of unknown and foreign in your family.
🌸Uranus in 10th: This stigma attached to people and society and the world. "what would they say" "what would they think" and you may most probably set out to do things no one in your lineage could think of doing, especially in terms of jobs and career, creating something new altogether. You may be seen as eccentric by others for that, but more you grow in this energy, more you would heal this idea of following the crowd for people who are lost themselves.
🌸Uranus in 11th: This again for people who have the wildest dreams and do not care about being a part of the social community or to conform to it in any way. You are very very likely to have high spirits, and follow your higher purpose, your dreams. More of a rebel kind of placement, you do not care if your dreams or ambitions are different than the one imposed or planned for you. You would break this programming of needing to be a certain way, a certain success recipe, a certain dream, in your lineage.
🌸Uranus in 12th: More of a visionary kind of placement. Someone who does not conform to immediate ideas and tunnel visions. Someone who's thoughts and ideas would not make sense currently but would be the future. You are here to heal subconscious programming, limiting beliefs, thoughts, and opinions of your lineage. The deepest of all the above placement and very transformative. You yourself may have experienced unexpected changes and events in life, that shake you right from the bottom until a steady foundation is built, and you are meant to transmute this same lessons and light to your lineage.
until the next time
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Part 7 of mer!reader?🫣🫣🫣
Of course! I think it's time to get you and Damian back together.
Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 7
Masterlist with all parts Here!
Content features upsetting Mer behavior and unsafe diving practices. Wear your protective gear, people!
It takes another month for your routine to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The specialists Bruce told Damian about had spent three days observing your behaviors and drew up a detailed care plan to help you recover as best as you could, which the facility follows with great enthusiasm.
You wake up and swim to the entrance of the tank to receive breakfast from Jon. Afterwards, he and Clark gently roll you out of the tank to apply weird-smelling salves to the patches on your tail, encouraging it to heal correctly and for new scales to grow. You sit and wait for the salve to absorb, then you get back into the water to play a little, and then it's Attention Time.
You swim all the way to the bottom floor of your tank, where visitors come admire you through the tunnels under your tank for several hours. Sometimes you have the energy to do a trick or two.
Then, it's back up to the top of the tank for dinner, more playtime, and then you get to sleep until tomorrow where you do it all again.
But the lethargy remains. The stinging, empty space in your chest only seems to grow the more you see Damian dispassionately leading tours and refusing to look at you. Of all the people that come to admire you, the one person whose attention you actually want, you cannot get.
Jon, bless him, is trying so hard to keep you happy. He talks to you every day, he gives you tons of treats, he swims with you as long as you want him to, and he's given you so many new toys that they've overtaken your cute rock collection. His effort is why you're doing your best to hide how bad you still feel.
And his company does help! It does. You can comfortably call him a friend, and mean it. But you are so tired. You miss Damian so much. You feel drained, and the urge to remain inside your little hideout gets stronger every passing day.
Every night, in the comforting darkness of your castle spire, the old bricks pressing against your body and shielding you from the rest of the world, you allow your thoughts to drift back to the boy with beautiful, emerald eyes without fail.
You think of the first time you met him, and how he looked at you as just another dumb animal in the aquarium for him to care for. You think of the first time you made him realize you were so much more — how you'd done every trick he commanded with such attitude and even mocked him back that he actually cracked a smile. You think of the first time you pulled him into the water to show him your favorite parts of your habitat, and then how he reassured you it was fine that you almost drowned him by accident because he knew you hadn't meant to. You think of all the times he snuck in after hours to spend just a little more time with you, to play just one more game, to ensure you didn't feel like another part of his job he had to do but someone he genuinely looked forward to seeing.
You think of the pretty blush on his face when you mustered the courage to give him your scales.
You think of all the gifts you left him afterwards, and how you didn't get any back.
You think of his dispassionate expression as he leads another group of visitors into your enclosure, day after day after day.
Your chest burns. You weep into the water and succumb to fitful slumber.
--
"I need a dive team to the Mer tank please! Right now!"
Damian furrows his brow, momentarily pausing his work. He's in the dolphin exhibit currently hand-feeding them when the announcement comes over the speaker system. He wonders what you're doing to have freaked Jon out, but it's not his place to care anymore, so he tries to push the curiosity from his mind and refocus on his task.
One dolphin in particular is pretty bad about taking food from a handler. It's also just food aggressive in general, bullying its pod-mates out of the way to get to the food first. Damian can't help but compare how much smarter you are to these animals. He sighs.
"Doctor Kent to the Mer exhibit!"
Hmm. Did you breach your tank again? Or maybe you bumped your body against the spire you like to sleep inside. Damian tried to tell his father that the rough brick texture could hurt your more vulnerable top half if not careful, but Bruce was certain you'd be alright. He wonders what kind of fuss you're kicking up today, if it's a real issue or if Jon hasn't been around you long enough to realize that sometimes you fake a problem because it's funny.
"All divers to the Mer exhibit please!"
Tim rushes through the door into the dolphin exhibit, startling Damian into dropping the bucket. He quickly backs up with a gasp as the dolphins swarm to the food and start gobbling it up. He faces Tim with a glare.
"Does nobody know how to follow protocol anymore? You're supposed to knock before you —"
"You need to get upstairs," Tim says, holding up an access key to your enclosure, "like right now. Vitals on our mer are really bad, we can't extract them from the spire and —"
Damian doesn't stick around to hear him finish that sentence. He snatches the key and sprints through the aquarium like the devil's on his fucking heels. His heart is racing and not from the exertion. He forgoes the elevator and starts rushing up the stairs three at a time, climbing floor by floor by floor to get to you as fast as he can.
It was a real emergency, then? What had happened? Jon was supposed to be taking care of you now. You were supposed to be recovering. You were supposed to be happier without him, now.
What was wrong with you?
There's no time to head into the locker room and get a wetsuit on. He jams the key into the exhibit door and throws it open, rushing into the room with single-minded focus.
Jon is in a wetsuit and treading water, relaying information to his dad with a worried frown. Clark is kneeling next to the tank and giving him instructions on how to get you to the surface. Dick is sitting on the lip of the tank and wiggling into a suit of his own, very unfamiliar with the gear as he doesn't dive with Mers. Bruce is on the phone and standing by Clark, looking more and more concerned as the situation develops.
When Damian bursts in, Dick startles and looks up at him, fumbling with the clasp on his flipper.
"Dami, go ahead and get a suit on. We need you to — DAMIAN!"
He doesn't think. Doesn't stop to listen to whatever Clark's rambling on about. Doesn't wait for permission before he kicks his shoes off, takes a running start, and dives into the tank in his plainclothes. He pedals his arms and kicks his feet as hard as he can and goes down, down, down, deeper into your vast tank and towards your favorite resting place. The effort is tremendous without the slim, hydrodynamic suit to aid him and a rebreather to allow him to stay down here for long periods of time. He pushes past it all and keeps going. You are in trouble and he is going to help you.
When he makes it to the spire and swims around to the entrance, he immediately sees the issue. Your body is curled into the mer version of fetal position; your arms are locked around your waist in an embrace and your tail is coiled underneath you in a tight spiral, twisted around itself and wedging you deeply into the cramped space. The angle of your body, coupled with the tight spacing of the hideaway, make it nearly impossible to pull you out.
In the wild, a mer found in this position is an almost universal signifier that they are near death.
If there's no intervention, you are going to die today.
Damian climbs into the spire with you, squeezing his body inside with a low grunt. A burst of bubbles escape from his mouth. If he can't pull you out — a dangerous move which would damage your tail and break your fins if they tried — he has to unfold you.
His back scrapes against the bricks and pain rockets down his spine. Another bunch of bubbles fly out. He grits his teeth and starts carefully pushing at you, gingerly moving your upper half, then your lower half, around and around and around to create enough space to safely push you free.
His chest is heaving. Damian is exhausted and quickly running out of breath. He cannot stop. If he stops, you won't make it.
He jerks when something jabs his ankle, arms wrapping protectively around you as his head snaps down to see what happened.
Jon is hovering just by the spire opening, holding a rebreather in his hand and shaking it insistently at him.
Damian reaches around you and makes a few grabs at it, finally curling his fingers around the device and pushing it into his mouth. He clicks the button to turn it on and almost coughs when oxygen starts to flow into his lungs. He slumps against you briefly, taking in your closed eyes and face twisted into agony.
What happened, he thinks. How did this happen to you, Princess?
His ankle is jabbed again. Damian looks back at Jon, who has his hands out in an offer of help. Damian gently starts to maneuver you around again, slowly but steadily unfolding your body, and when Jon catches on, helps do the same thing from your opposite side.
It is painstaking work. Dick eventually gets into the water to join in, but there's no room for him, so he hovers to the side ready to help carry your body to the surface when you're finally free.
It feels like it takes hours, but can't be more than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes too long in Damian's opinion. Eventually, your body is unwound enough to ease you out of the spire without injury, and the three men rush you to the surface where Clark and four other vets are waiting to take you. It becomes a flurry of activity after that.
Damian spits out the rebreather when his feet are back on solid ground. He pants and doubles over, limbs shaking from exertion, and watches the medical team assess your condition and fret over you. You're loaded onto a special stretcher and whisked from the room, and he's about to follow suit when a hand clasps over his wrist.
"No," he rasps, already gearing up the breath to scream at his father, but Bruce just shakes his head and presses a towel into his hands.
"Here," he says, voice soft and knowing. "Here, Tadpole. I just want you to get dry before you follow them into the medical bay. You can't help anybody if you get sick."
Damian clutches it, staring at his father with no small amount of trepidation. Bruce just sighs.
"I'm sorry, Damian. I am. We'll talk about it later, but I won't separate you two again. You have my word." He jerks his head toward the doors. "Go dry off and change in the locker room. I'll call Medical and tell them to let you in when you're done."
Damian throws his arms around Bruce, uncaring about how he's soaking his dad. Evidently Bruce doesn't care either, if the fierceness in which he hugs him back is any indication.
"Thank you," Damian whispers, then pulls away to head to the lockers.
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Good Graces | 01
Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader | series masterlist.
summary; Being the son of the President of the United States came with its fair share of responsibilities, but none as infuriating as this. To secure his father's re-election, Rafe Cameron was forced to spend weeks under the same roof as the Princess of England. Diplomacy, they called it. Torture, he thought. The last thing he needed was a spoiled royal ruining his summer. But between gala events, unexpected conversations, and stolen glances, Rafe realized the line between hate and attraction was thinner than he'd ever imagined.
warnings; no smut. reader is two years younger than rafe. english is not my first language. the images are for the aesthetic. 'forced marriage au' by @rafecameronssl4t inspired<3
author's note; this is my first series!!! hope you liked it, reblogs and comments are appreciated<3
The presidential ballroom was impeccably decorated, a display of luxury that Rafe found unnecessary and pretentious. He leaned against one of the high columns, watching the political and royal elite move like chess pieces on a board. Ward has talking to the King, your father, about something he wasn't paying attention and didn't bother to pretend to care about.
The ride over had been torturous enough. For the thousandth time, Ward lectured him on how to behave in front of the Royal Family, reminding him—again— not to embarrass him in front of "the most powerful allies we could ever have."
Now, as he stood there, arms crossed and mind elsewhere, he saw you enter to the ballroom. Your entrance was impossible to ignore, your dress shimmering as if the stars themselves had been woven into it. Everything about you was poised, practiced and perfect, from the tilt of your chin to the way you greeted the room with that ever–diplomatic smile.
When your gaze finally met his, your expression shifted slightly, and an eyebrow arched. You approached with purpose, the polite smile on your face as cold as the champagne being served.
"You should bow", you said, your British accent cutting through the noise around them.
Rafe didn't move, instead crossing his arms tighter. "And why would I do that?"
"Because I'm royalty" you replied matter-of-factly, through your smile remained polite.
"And I'm the President's son" Rafe shot back, his tone dry. "I'd say that makes us even, wouldn't you?"
Your smile tightened ever so slightly, but you didn’t back down. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when you’re forced to interact with people far more important than you?”
"Only when those people are wearing a crown and an attitude." he countered, smirking.
Before you could retort, a voice interrupted.
“Ah, there you are, Rafe!” Ward’s tone was overly cheerful, drawing both your attention. “Why don’t you and the Princess take a photo together? A perfect opportunity for the press, don’t you think?”
You exchanged a quick, reluctant glance with Rafe, silently agreeing on one thing for the first time: this was going to be a long night.
Rage groaned internally, but this well-practiced fake smile was already in place. He extended an arm toward you in mock politeness, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass. "After you, Your Highness. Don't want to break royal protocol now, don't we?"
You rolled your eyes, but your own diplomatic farcade never faltered. "How thoughtful of you, Mr. Cameron."
As you both moved toward the photo backdrop, flashes from cameras already began to light up the room. Rafe leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Smile big, Princess. The world’s watching.”
“I'd rather choke and believe me,” you replied through gritted teeth, “I’ve been smiling through worse company than yours.”
The photographer barked instructions as if posing next to someone you couldn’t stand wasn’t awkward enough. “Closer, please! Let’s see some warmth!”
Rafe, ever the troublemaker, slipped an arm lightly around your waist. “Anything for the press,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You stiffened at the gesture, your eyes shooting daggers at him. “Get your hand off me before I make you regret it,” you hissed quietly, though your face maintained an air of perfect grace for the cameras.
“Relax,” Rafe replied, his grin widening. “I’m just playing the role your family paid for.”
“Paid for?” you echoed, your smile faltering for just a fraction of a second.
“Sure. Isn’t that what this is? A transaction? You play nice with us so my dad looks good, and in return, we keep your little kingdom relevant.”
Your eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a moment, you wondered if anyone would notice if you stabbed him with your heel. “Your arrogance is truly astonishing.”
“And your entitlement is truly exhausting,” Rafe shot back, his voice just low enough to keep your verbal sparring private.
“Perfect!” the photographer called out, breaking the tension. “You two have such natural chemistry. Just lovely.”
You stepped away from Rafe the second it was socially acceptable, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if even proximity to him had somehow wrinkled it.
“I need a drink,” you muttered under your breath.
“Make it a double,” Rafe quipped, already heading toward the bar.
A few minutes later, you found yourself stationed next to Rafe at a small table as your families chatted about alliances, trade agreements, and other topics that seemed infinitely dull. You weren’t listening, of course. You were too busy internally debating whether it was worth the scandal to excuse yourself entirely.
Rafe, meanwhile, was stirring the ice in his glass with a look that screamed disinterest. His posture was casual, legs stretched out slightly under the table as if he were deliberately trying to take up as much space as possible.
“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Immensely,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “I especially enjoy sitting through conversations about ‘strengthening ties’ and ‘mutual benefits.’ Thrilling stuff, really.”
“Perhaps if you paid attention, you’d learn something,” you countered, keeping your voice neutral as possible.
“Perhaps if I wanted to listen to lectures, I’d go back to college,” he shot back.
You arched a brow. “Ah, yes. How could I forget? The prodigal son of the President, gracing the Ivy League with his presence. Did you even finish?”
Rafe’s smirk returned, though this time it was edged with something more genuine. “Touché, Princess. I did, actually. But I guess the finer details of my resume didn’t make it across the Atlantic.”
“Oh, I’m sure the tabloids covered it thoroughly,” you said. “Right next to your exploits at frat parties and your extensive collection of speeding tickets.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve done your homework. Impressive.”
“Unlike you,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne.
“Touché again,” he said, tipping his glass toward you in mock admiration. “You’re sharp. I’ll give you that.”
The conversation, sharp and biting as it was, didn’t go unnoticed. Across the room, Ward exchanged a glance with the King, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is this really going to work?
DIORSTARKEY — do not plagiarize, translate or copy my work.
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Doesn't that sort of make sense though? Why would the characters make a big deal out of it if it's normal for them? It's kind of an issue I have with a lot of fantasy series, the characters are all from this world where magic exists but they have to act surprised and clueless about it for the audience's sake? That has always felt cheap and kinda lazy to me. Yes, act like it's normal because it is normal for you. Don't make a big deal out of it and let us figure it out. Yes, you run a risk of a lot of fandom glossing over it but imo, it's much better than breaking character just to coddle your audience.
On your age point... no, that doesn't really work. The game is originally a joseimuke, meaning for working-class women. Just because Aniplex and Disney US decided to dumb everything down for the English release doesn't mean teenagers are suddenly the intended audience. The characters are those ages because that's a popular trope and that's it, they might be 30 or 50 and they wouldn't change because the age label on fictional characters is arbitrary as they are not real. Yes, Disney JP still keeps certain things censored/safe but far less than whatever is going on in the EN release. In a similar vein, the whole "respect women juice" thing was added in the EN release while in JP, it was left at the fact that women are intimidating and more physically imposing which led to Leona and Ruggie trying to appease them even outside of their own culture (we wouldn't exactly call that respect, now would we? We don't say women irl respect men when they go out of their way to appease them because they are physically stronger).
This isn't about whether or not Jack has a knot lol. This is about how many features the characters do have that the fandom just explains away or even straight-up ignores. And it gets worse when it comes to cultures. The hyenas are mistreated in Sunset Savannah because they have a bad reputation (yes, it is a part of what happened with Scar but also for biological reasons) which then leads to them having to scavenge for food and use trickery which furthers the stereotypes even more. Leona's palace guards are all women because lionesses are usually the ones guarding a pride. Leona does roar or growl in the story on multiple occasions (and a roar is even one of his battle lines iirc).
Malleus was literally born from an egg, that's a pretty big thing imo, people even like this, they just don't like thinking about what that might mean for Meleanor. Also, dragon fae only being able to conceive with their true love? That's a pretty huge difference. The fae in general communicating by hisses and chittering noises? Yes, it's a language for them but at the same time, that's a pretty non-human thing to do. And despite Lilia adopting Silver, he never taught him the language so there's a question of whether full-blooded humans can even learn it.
I agree with you that this is a prevalent problem in media, I just don't think twst is as devoid of it as you seem to suggest. Yes, fandom is always there to explore things more and push them to their logical limits and conclusions but, again, I think twst gives us a ton to build off of. It makes sense to me that they don't make a big deal of it, much like they just off-handedly mention other parts of their world that are normal to them but alien to us, simply because it's no big deal or it is common knowledge for them ("By the Seven!" is an easy one. Nobody feels the need to explain it but we all know why that is, another example would include Mozus' off-hand mention of the discrimination against beastmen in the past, and obvsl there are more all over the place).
Anyway, this got long, sorry. I like discussing this sort of thing even if we don't come to an agreement. Personally, I like the way twst does it but I do get why people might want more obvious explanations and followups on things in way that are harder to disregard.
I need. Twisted Beastmen and the like. To be more animalistic. Not necessarily like, physically, I don't meant that in the furry sense. I mean that in the 'they're part animal and it'd not just for show' sense.
I want beastmen with claw like nails. Where the cat-like ones tend to walk on their toes when not wearing shoes because it feels right. Where their eyes and pupils reflect the animals that they're partly of. With fangs and teeth appropriate for their species.
Ruggie making laughing noises at the active prospect of food. Whooping when in a fight and needing backup. Lowing when excited for a fight.
Leona roaring to get the whole dorm's attention. Chuffing in greeting at people he considers part of his pride. (He'll sometimes grunt at Cheka like a mother would to her cubs but will deny it.)
Jack barking at danger to warn others and howling to try and figure out where his pack is (he forgets they can't howl back, but Ruggie will sometimes low at him and Yuu definitely tries to howl back.)
I want to see Azul with the tips of his limbs in human form retain some of his octopus natural ability to camouflage. I want to see his hands always moving, grabbing something, holding something. Azul who might not have bones in human form with how flexible he is??
The tweels who aren't very active naturally during the day but get really hyperactive at night. Who bare their teeth at people when excited.
Che'nya who lounges in the sun on lazy days. Who's great at stretching and popping everywhere in his body if he needs to, to a concerning degree.
GIMME FEY WHO DONT ACT HUMAN
Malleus who snorts smoke when he's angry. Malleus who wear gloves because he got claws. Malleus who has a tail and wings outside of his dragon form sometimes.
Lilia who gets just a bit too excited at the prospect of a fight and spilling blood. Who can recognize a person by the smell of their blood. Who makes inhuman noises when too excited and gives off a very eldritch horror kind of vibe if he lets loose.
Sebek who can be found eating rocks sometimes. Who finds quiet in thunder and lightning. Who can move so smoothly and silently you don't know he's there until he opens his maw. Who has a lot of really sharp teeth for someone with a human mouth.
Just- gimme some animal, like, REALISM. PLEASE.
#also I don't think “not many people got it” is a valid reason for why it doesn't have enough#re: jade's open mouth#the writer isn't responsible for people not knowing things#jade has no reason to explain that in the scene#doubly so since he's embarrassed about it#and imagine how it would look if Riddle or someone suddenly went “ah yes because of moray mating rituals right?”#it would completely break the flow of the scene#+ people who care will find it out that's how I and many others learned#also side note but leona sleeping so much could also easily be just his lion blood taking over#since male lions aren't very active during the day#like yes it is helped by him being depressed and a bit lazy but that could just be emphasizing an existing trait
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Miss You
summary: you dream of a mysterious man with blond hair who seems so familiar yet so distant.
pairing: Hyunjin x gn!reader
genre: angst, smut, alternate reality, sci fi au
word count: 2.0k
warnings: alternate reality, lots of dreams, sensual touch, clit/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't), creampies
notes: this idea is inspired by hyunjin's mv Miss You but with a twist. this is my weird brain in it's sci fi era lol. let me know what you think of this idea! I love feedback!
please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2025)
divider by @sweetmelodygraphics
General masterlist
He came to you in a dream, softly and gently, his face clear as day before slowly materializing, becoming nothing in an expanse of black. Everyday, you’d watch as he’d work, his eyes and body focused on the task at hand, a gentle smile on his face. Despite this, there was also a melancholic feel to his aura, as if something was missing in his little world.
You thought the man beautiful, but even that word seemed to be inadequate. You loved gazing at his face, a set of soft eyes that glistened, complete with chocolate brown orbs that caused shivers to run down your spine as you looked into them. His lips were plush, cushiony and tinted with pink, a complete contrast to his chiseled face.
His blond hair seemed soft and silky, the strands tied up in a half up, half down up do while other times they hung perfectly against his neck. Lastly, you loved gazing at his hands, the veins prominent and fingers long, adorned with various silver rings.
You couldn’t help but watch them as he painted, his wrist gently swooping across the canvas as he translated whatever scene was playing out in his head. As he mixed colors of white and green, he hummed softly, his voice muted yet projecting across the small room.
He gazed at the canvas in thought, his bottom lip snug between his teeth, and his eyebrow scrunched in annoyance, the tsk he let out harsh and short in the otherwise quiet room. You eyed the canvas, trying to see what disturbed his mood, but every time you tried to peer over his shoulder, the image would blur, almost as if you weren’t meant to see it. The only thing you could make out was the name Hyunjin, which must have been his name.
You tried it out, the syllables rolling off your tongue like water, the sound so pleasant your heart rate increased and your face became flushed as the heat rose. Hyunjin looked up and then smiled, almost as if the dilemma he was facing was solved. However, the smile still didn’t quite reach his eyes as melancholy was still present, taking over the beautiful orbs.
As he went back to painting, the scene faded away slowly, Hyunjin materializing as he softly whistled a tune. Right as it faded to black, you thought you heard him murmur something, the words jumbled and inaudible, but present nonetheless. To you, it almost sounded like he said, “I’ll see you again.”
You are dreaming again, you know so as Hyunjin is present again, this time he’s walking around the small room, his eyes searching for something. He has a camera in his hands, the strap hanging haphazardly in front of his body.
You wonder what he’s searching for, the look of frustration yet determination present. Hyunjin stops at some items placed perfectly on a table. As you take a closer look, you realize there’s a hand held mirror, rose, and bottle of perfume present. While you gaze at the items, an electric feeling spreads through your body, a feeling of deja vu spreading over you.
The items seem familiar but at the same time not, the thought confusing in the moment. You look up at Hyunjin and gasp, as he’s looking your way, a look of surprise on his face. It seems as if he has seen you, but you know this to be false, as he shakes his head and goes back to pondering the objects in front of him.
Eventually, he gives up and saunters over to another corner, this time stopping in front of a flower arrangement, the flowers wilted and clinging to the last moments of life. Hyunjin nods his head and smiles before lifting the camera to his face, squinting his right eye as he focuses his left through the lens.
He adjusts the zoom a few times before pressing the shutter, the soft click echoing throughout the room. He takes a few more pictures before finding another angle. Click, Click, Click. Hyunjin snaps picture after picture, his mood changing slowly from one of irritation to one of apathy.
You watch intrigued until the sun slowly sets, the once clear blue sky giving way to shades of orange, red, and purple. Once Hyunjin is satisfied with his work, he looks up and turns your way, almost as if he can see you, just like the moment before. He raises his camera and points it at you before pressing the shutter, the click going off with a flash, causing you to blink before everything fades to black.
You dream of Hyunjin again and again, the scenery the same little room each time. With each dream, you feel as if you know this man, however, just when you think you can remember from where, the idea slips from your mind to not return again until you dream again.
You find yourself frustrated, having watched Hyunjin paint, take pictures, and even write in a notebook, over and over. It’s the same scene again and again and you start to wonder if there’s any significance behind it. There has to be and you try to voice so when you dream, hoping that Hyunjin will answer, but he never does. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence, and why should he as it’s all a dream right?
He seems happier, more hopeful with each passing dream, as if what he is searching for is within reach. You wonder what that is, slightly jealous that he may be getting the answers he’s been searching for, unlike you. However, despite the uncertainty of it all, you enjoy being with him in these dreams, finding peace in his company, as if you’ve been there before, watching, listening, and just be with him.
Once more you are dreaming, excitement brewing as you anticipate what will happen today. Maybe he will paint again, which you have grown to love as he seems the happiest while doing so. However, as you walk into the room, he’s standing at the window looking out into the scenery beyond, the sun shining brightly into the room.
He reaches up to grasp something only he can see, his fingers wrapping around the invisible item before he lets it go. Hyunjin is humming again, the tune you now recognize, which shocks you. You are frozen in place as he hums and then switches to whistling, the soft tune dredging up memories that must have been buried deep within.
You close your eyes and find yourself drifting, drifting to a time and place where you lived in happiness with a man, your lover. You both were happy and carefree, perfect for each other, soulmates. Your body is filled with warmth at the memory, as your brain tries to focus on the man’s face.
As time passes, his features become more clearer, until you realize it’s Hyunjin, the man who is present in this room with you right now, the man you have been seeing in your dreams for months.
“Welcome back,” Hyunjin murmurs as he turns around to face you, a gentle smile on his face as he looks to you.
His eyes are filled with joy, the melancholy that was present gone. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you in an embrace, pressing his face into your hair. You both stand there in each other’s arms, as joy radiates off both of you.
Hyunjin.
Hyunjin who is your best friend. Hyunjin who is your lover. Hyunjin who is your soulmate.
You remember everything now.
How he was painting you over and over, the image never clear as you were trying to remember your love, how he was photographing all of your favorite items, his eyes full of longing for you. You realize you dreamt of these things and of him, as you tried to find your way back to him.
Tears have started to form in your eyes, whether they are from happiness or sadness, you’re not completely sure. However, you pull back and look up into your lover’s eyes, taking in the brown orbs as he gazes at you lovingly.
“Hyunjin, I’m so sorry for leaving you,” you whisper, your voice filled with regret but hope, hoping that he will forgive you for such a crime.
Hyunjin brushes the tears that are falling down your cheeks, as he gently smiles down at you.
“I’ve been waiting for you love. I’ve missed you,” he says as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
They are softer than you remember, the feeling like silk on your lips. He pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss, before laying you down gently on the couch. There’s a flurry of movement as he quickly but efficiently rids you of your clothes, before he rids himself of his, his eyes on you the whole time.
He coaxes sweet moans from you as he touches you, teases you, your nipples hardened and pussy soaking as he works the parts of you only he knows. You think you feel overwhelmed as he pulls yet another orgasm from you, a wide grin on his face as his fingers that you’ve watched for so long circles, pinches and taps at your clit.
You whimper as he finally sheaths his cock within you, stretching you out slowly and deliberately, making sure you feel every ridge, every vein on his length. As he bottoms out, you both let out a moan before he begins to thrusts his hips, coaxing sweet, wet, sounds from your pussy.
You are lost in him, your hands roaming his body, feeling the soft skin beneath your palms. You take him in as if you’re memorizing his body, his toned arms, his pinkish-brown nipples, to the look on his face, his eyes scrunched up in pleasure as he drives his cock in and out of you over and over.
You take in the thin sheen of sweat that has formed, causing his body to glisten as twilight takes over, the setting sun’s rays casting shadows across his face as he grunts and sighs in pleasure.
You don’t want to forget him, not again as you seemed to have done, for reasons you are not entirely sure. You know you won’t forget him though as he brings you to orgasm, as you whimper, as the pleasure spreads through you, your walls clenching over his cock, holding him in.
You watch as Hyunjin reaches his orgasm, a strangled cry leaving his lips as he murmurs “I miss you. I miss you.”
He stills once the last drop of his cum paints your walls, his gaze locked on yours. He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your lips before dragging his tongue down your jaw, your neck, and chest until he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks.
You gasp at the sensation, your hands moving to tangle in his hair as he nips and suckles, alternating between the two buds to give them equal attention. You feel his hips rock into yours once more, the drag slow, achingly slow as he makes love to you.
As he drags his cock into you, he opts to swallow your moans, and instead you both find yourself gasping and breathing in tandem, your body, mind, and souls becoming one. The pleasure is increasing, the white hot sensation building and building until it becomes too much and you let go, clutching onto your lover as your walls milk his cock dry.
And in the afterglow of your love making, you lay quietly in each other’s embrace, your bodies a sweaty mess. Time seems to slow as you breathe as one, as the sun finally sets, saying goodbye to yet another day.
You realize this is the moment you want to live in forever. Here with your lover, your best friend. Here with Hyunjin.
And as you come to this decision, Hyunjin looks up at you once more before he says with finality:
“I’ve missed you.”
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#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#skz smut#skz x reader#hwang hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin x reader#stray kids angst#hyunjin angst#stray kids fluff#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids#hwang hyunjin angst#hwang hyunjin fluff
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Silent Poem
Zayne returns home to find you fast asleep in his bed. You help each other…relax. 😏
An expansion of Zayne’s Silent Poem Secret Times (some lines removed because try as i might, i couldnt make them fit)
Zayne x Reader
-:- massage leads to other things -:- clothed sex lol -:- body worship Zayne -:- sweet talkin mofo -:-
INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was supposed to be a night filled with laughter over dinner, but dusk gave way to twilight in what felt like a handful of seconds. Doctor Zayne had called with his apologies, stating that an emergency surgery had come up and he would be home late. Dinner was packed away to be saved for another time, and you curled up on his sofa with the silly games you thoroughly enjoyed on your phone. You understood how it was. After all, you had to do the same to him several times as well. It didn’t bother you one bit- you would just wait until he got home, embrace him, and usher him off to bed for much-needed rest.
It wasn’t long before you started to nod off and you checked the time, noting that it was nearing midnight. There was no telling when Zayne would be home, but the two of you had shared a bed for some time now. You knew he wouldn’t mind if you slipped between the sheets to take a quick nap before he got home.
You changed into your long night shirt and were lost to the waking world when Zayne snuck into the room. He took light steps until he was at the bedside, peering down at you with softness in his gaze. The glass of water he held was placed quietly on the bedside table and he sat at the edge of the bed. He marveled at your beauty, wondering how he could have ever been so lucky to have someone like you in his life. Lost to these thoughts, he leaned forward and kissed you. Just a gentle brush of his lips against yours while you slept.
You inhaled sharply, startled awake by the unexpected contact. When you opened your eyes, you saw Zayne’s smiling face in the dimmed lamp light and relaxed back into the pillows.
“My apologies. Did I wake you up?”
You smiled lazily at him. “Yeah, but it’s okay. Are you just getting in? It’s so late!”
“Yes. It’s been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…you were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.”
He leaned over to kiss you softly again, and you chased his lips until you were sitting up in the bed. Worry raced through you when he pulled away and slumped against your shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh. You observed his face more closely and noticed exhaustion and tension bracketing his mouth and eyes. His arm lazily circled your waist, and your own came around him to embrace him back.
“Zayne?” You asked softly.
“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion.”
“You should relax more,” you murmured to him.
“Me?” He called you out with that one simple word and you huffed a laugh.
“Alright, we should relax more.”
“But how exactly…will you help me relax?” He lifted his head from your shoulder and stared at you intently with those eyes that held the depth of a forest. You watched as his gaze drifted to your lips and then back up, and you felt a blush spread across your face. What a strange time for shyness to strike, especially since intimacy was not new between you.
You push him away from you a moment so you could escape the covers. Kneeling over him, you started pushing his jacket off his shoulders and began working at his shirt, all while completely ignoring the intense way he watched your chest waving in front of his face.
Once his shirt was loosened enough, you dug your fingers into the muscle that made up the slope of his neck. You remember him telling you it was called the trapezius at some point, and how it was where he carried all of his stress. The moment your fingers dug into that brick wall of a muscle, he let loose a heavy sigh that was nearing a moan.
“Mmmh…massage. I see…” he grumbled with a smile.
“Yes, what else were you thinking?” You raised your brow, continuing to work at his neck and shoulders.
He cleared his throat a little bit and you took note of the blush that stained his ears. He blinked rapidly and looked away in that endearing way he did when embarrassed.
“Ahem. Never mind.”
His muscles finally started to give way to your ministrations, but your own tensed the more you worked at him. The sounds he made had your heart thundering, and you were acutely aware of how close your body was to his and how you still knelt over his lap- not quite straddling him.
He looked up at you, golden-green eyes hooded by barely concealed desire. “My eyes aren’t as tired as they were before. And my neck and shoulders feel so much better.”
“Good, I’m glad,” you said, smiling down at him. You knew your face and neck were red, and it took all of your effort not to run and hide. Your only saving grace was the blush that dusted his cheeks.
“Just sit on me,” he said, noticing how your legs began to shake from the unsustainable position you were in. “It’ll be easier for you.”
You began to decline, but his hands found your hips and suddenly you were straddling him in full. And you became very well aware of the hard length of him pressing against your core.
He moaned at the contact, a breathy sound that shot to your core. “I feel much better already.”
“Y-yeah?” You stammered. His hips rose to grind against yours.
“It’s more effective than the strongest, most soothing medicine in the world.” He kissed you then, an unhurried kind of probing kiss that drew you in the longer your lips held contact.
But then he pulled away, and you could feel the embarrassment at how easily you got lost in him flush through you again. Still, his arms caged you, keeping you close.
“Your lips are dry. Do you want some water?” He reached over and grabbed the glass from the table, presenting it to you.
“How did you know?” You realized you actually were parched. It was always a point of contention- you always seemed to forget to take care of yourself. “I keep forgetting.”
“You haven’t learned to drink it on your own yet?” You chose to ignore his chuckle by carelessly chugging the glass.
“Don’t rush, it’s spilling out,” he said, right as your overeagerness sent a trail down your neck, chest, and into your shirt between your breasts.
“Oh,” you said dumbly. He took the glass from you and put it back on the table.
“Zayne, help me clean it up, do you have a cloth?”
“All right,” he chuckled, pulling away the hand you were using to dab at it. “I’ll help you clean up.”
And then his mouth found where the water trailed at the hollow of your throat, a searing kiss that sent shivers through you. His mouth and tongue followed the water in a blazing trail on your skin, even tugging down the neck of your shirt to get at as much as he could.
“Z-Zayne,” you breathed, unable- or unwilling- to push him away.
“Is this what you wanted?” His question was murmured against your chest between kisses. You watched as his tongue slipped between your breasts with a hissed inhale, your hips grinding against him. His hands trailed up the backs of your thighs, teasing the hem of your shirt. There was nothing else there to halt his touch, save for your underwear, and he inhaled sharply at the realization.
“I knew it,” he breathed, nipping at your collarbone. “You want to do this to me again.”
And then his lips found yours again, coaxing you open so that his tongue could tangle with yours. His breath mingled with the soft sounds that escaped you. His hands skirted over your curves to lift your shirt over your head in a swift motion you didn’t even have time to react to. This bared you to him almost fully, the only thing covering you now was the soft cotton of the underwear you wore.
“Now you’re just taking advantage,” you chuckled, capturing his lips again. He smiled against your lips.
“What do you mean-” he began, interrupting his sentence with a kiss to your neck.
“I’m taking-“ another kiss, this one to your collarbone.
“Advantage-“ his mouth found your breast now.
“Of the situation?” His teasing words ended with an open mouth kiss to your other breast.
“Aren’t we just helping each other relax,” he questioned softly against your breast. His eyes locked onto yours as he continued kissing, licking, sucking your breasts. With a groan, he lifted you off of him for the length of time it took for the pair of you to fumble with his belt and pants.
When his cock was finally freed, you palmed and stroked him lazily while he gasped and groaned against your chest. But the control he struggled to maintain came close to snapping when you straddled him again, tugged your underwear aside, and slipped the tip of him just inside of you. His hips jerked involuntarily, slamming upwards into you and a whimpered gasp escaped you.
“Sorry,” he breathed. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, unable to put into words that it was quite the opposite. He filled you so well, that you damn near came apart on him with that single thrust. Still, he waited for your body to adjust to him, trembling with the effort.
“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other,” he whispered in your ear. “I missed you.”
Your body shuddered, involuntarily clenching your walls around him. He gasped out a moan, dropping his forehead to your chest while his hips began a slow roll. Your hands gripped at his biceps, fingers digging into him with the same amount of force you used to massage his neck.
“Does this also need to relax?” He said with a sly smile. You couldn’t even muster a response to his teasing. “Of course, I understand you only want to help me feel less fatigued.”
You ended his teasing by lifting from him and easing back down slowly. His breathing came in panting bursts while you rocked your hips against his. You watched his body reacting to yours with pleasured delight, trailing your fingers down his firm chest and into the hills and valleys that made up his abdomen.
“Are you enjoying your massage, Doctor Zayne,” you breathed to him, feeling uncharacteristically bold at the sight of him coming undone beneath you.
“Different muscle groups call for specific massage techniques,” he murmured. “Sometimes…being skillful is what really makes a difference.”
You smiled and resisted rolling your eyes. Still a clinical mind, even while you were impaled on his cock. You set out to make him lose that rational thinking by increasing your pace, taking him deeper and faster. Breathy moans escaped from him and his arms circled your waist to give added leverage as he helped to piston in and out of you.
“I think it’s getting more tense, now,” he murmured, kissing your chest as he nuzzled into you. You knew he was no longer talking about muscles. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding rose to join the panting moans that permeated the otherwise still air.
“Perhaps…you could add a little more pressure,” he whispered to you before his mouth fell upon your nipples once more. Per his request, you clenched your walls around him as you rode him. With a whining moan, he halted your movements so that he could take over and slam into you from below.
All rational thought was driven from both of you, only this primal need left in its place. You could feel pressure building inside of you as his cock plundered you at an almost punishing speed. Hips collided in a frenzied urge to chase the high of release, breathless moans responding to the pleasure, bodies tensing until finally the pair of you spilled over the edge with cries of ecstasy.
He buried his face against your neck, nuzzling as his body continued to jerk and plunge his cock so impossibly deep inside you. Your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for everything he had to give you. His large hands gripped your hips in a bruising grasp, pushing you so that he remained buried in you to the hilt.
“I wonder,” he panted once his body stopped trembling underneath you. He laid back fully, an arm tucked under his head to prop it up so he could take in the full image of you straddling him, of you impaled on him. “How long were you planning to pull this stunt on me?”
You trailed your hands from his lower abdomen to his chest, leaning your hips forward only so slightly and dropping back down on him. He was still hard inside you, clearly not fully finished with you. “What can I say? I missed you.”
He clenched his eyes closed when you shifted on him, another short moan rising from his chest. “Yes, of course.
“I missed you too.” He punctuated his words by lifting his hips to meet yours.
“Mmmh, how much?” You followed the rocking of his hips, allowing him to pull out slightly before chasing the descent of him to sheath him inside you fully once he settled back against the bed.
He took your hands in his, pulling you so that you laid flat atop him. He captured your lips in a tender kiss, placing his forehead against yours when he pulled away. His hands smoothed up your back, holding you to him.
“Rest in my embrace, just like this,” he murmured to you. His hips lifted again, sinking his cock deep into you again.
“Now-” He kissed your jaw.
“Let me tell you-“ He kissed your neck
“How much I missed you when we couldn’t see each other.” He wrapped his arms around you and began to move.
“Relax,” he murmured to you when you tensed in anticipation. He moved slower now, rolling the two of you so that you were beneath him now. During the transition, he went too deep and you couldn’t help the hiss of pain that you released.
He froze, searching your face for any hint that you wanted to stop. You caressed his flushed cheek, drawing him back down to kiss him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said against your lips. “Does it still hurt?”
“A little, but I'm okay,” you tell him. You move your legs to wrap them around his hips, but he leaves you so that he can quickly shed the rest of his clothing. He rejoined you after removing your underwear, prodding at your entrance but not pushing in. Instead he leaned down to kiss you softly, in hopes to distract you from any pain or discomfort you might still be feeling.
“What about this? Do you feel better now?” His cock breached your slit, but he still wouldn’t fill you in the way you craved and you could feel your patience slipping.
“Or…do you want to change positions?” He stopped the forward tilt of his hips and pulled away to wait for your answer. You grumbled out a sigh, circling your legs around his waist so he couldn’t remove himself.
“Just do it and stop asking questions!”
With that, he settled over you fully, and you reveled in the way the size and weight of him pressed you into the mattress. His mouth captured yours once more and he rolled his hips forward.
The languid pace at which he pressed his hips into yours was almost too much to bear. You wanted to be taken fast, but the feel of him dragging against your walls was only accentuated by how slow he thrust into you. He was all but worshipping your body with his mouth and hands while his hips pressed into yours with every forward lunge.
“So much time has passed now. Don't you want me to say something?” What you wanted was him. To be drowned in him, swept away by the pleasure he elicited with every stroke of his cock. It was almost too much to bear, the sensations surrounding you as he clung to you as fervently as you clung to him. You closed your eyes, listing your chin when his kisses trailed down your throat.
“Tired already? You want to sleep?” His voice was light and teasing but held the hint of a threat in the undertone. You didn’t get a chance to answer before he slammed his hips forward. A pleasured cry escaped you, fingers digging into his flesh.
“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do. The night is still young, we have plenty of time to learn from each other,” he grunted, his hips colliding with yours at a brisk pace now. You whimpered beneath him, allowing him to hook his arms under your knees and practically fold you in half. He slammed his cock into you over and over and you tilted your hips to meet his at every thrust.
“Let me hear your voice,” he sighed, and you obeyed him. Once more, the sounds of pleasure mixed with the sounds of your frenzied coupling. His mouth latched onto the slope of your neck and by the time he was done sucking almost violently at that spot, you knew it was going to leave a gnarly mark. The thought of carrying his mark for weeks drove you even closer to the edge.
“Say my name,” he murmured against your skin, hips snapping forward with forceful thrusts as his climax started to build.
“Z-Zayne,” you whimpered. Your nails dug into his back at the guttural moan he released against your neck.
“Again,” he growled.
“Zayne-” His name came out more like a breath, barely recognizable as a word as his pace turned punishing. He was so impossibly deep inside that you didn’t know where he ended and you began.
“Again,” he groaned, his body trembling with the beginnings of his orgasm. One final, hard, thrust and he was spilling into you with a guttural cry.
“Zayne!” You all but screamed his name as the pulsing twitch of his cock flooding you sent you over the edge with him. You threw your head back into his pillows, body arching into his as your release shot through you.
His hips jerked and shuddered, his whole body trembling like he wasn’t in control. His eyes were clenched closed, his brows drawn down to crease at the center, while he struggled to regain some form of composure. But the intensity of the pleasure didn’t grant him a single reprieve as his body continued to convulse with moaning cries falling from his lips. All you could do was wrap your legs around his waist and lock him to you while he rode out the high with you.
“Fuck,” he whimpered against your neck when his body finally relented control back to his mind. He collapsed on you and the pair of you tried to calm your erratic breathing. Soft kisses rained on your skin and you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you when his lips brushed sensitive spots.
When you came down from the pleasured high, he carried you bridal style to the bathroom. He started a shower for the both of you, willingly stepping into the blazing hot water you preferred. He cleaned you with a delicate touch, eliciting shivers as his hands glided over your body. And when he knelt before you to lather your legs with soap, his eyes locked onto yours with a mischievous glint in them before his mouth latched onto your cunt. He proceeded to turn you into a babbling mess, bringing you to the brink and driving you over the edge with his skilled tongue.
You wiped the self-satisfied smirk off his face when you knelt in front of him to give him the same kind of attention. He stared at you wide-eyed, blushing profusely, as you palmed him and ran your tongue along the underside of his length. Soft moans and curses escaped him as you worked him with your mouth, until he couldn’t take anymore and spilled against your tongue.
Dawn came and went by the time the pair of you tumbled into bed. You were spooned in his embrace, and the warmth of his body against yours lulled you into sleep. You were grateful that it was your weekend, because you didn’t have the will to leave his bed for even one minute.
Not that he would allow it.
#l&ds zayne#dr zayne#zayne x you#doctor zayne#zayne x reader#zayne smut#lnds zayne#lads zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lads fic#lads smut#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#l&ds smut#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace
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FILL THE VOID
Pairings: the salesman x Fem!oc
Summary: After avoiding him for two days, she finds herself pinned down as he insists they go out to dinner, just as he promised in their bet. Reluctantly agreeing, she anticipates an elegant evening, but the night quickly takes an exciting and dangerous turn.
Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, Dom!salesman x baddie!oc, teasing, degrading, kissing, gun play, Russian roulette, knife play, semi public sex, hair pulling, mentions of blood, oral sex, male recieving, p in v, rough sex, spanking.
Wc: 6.2k
A/n: so sorry for the wait here’s pt.2 for “ride or die” since some of y’all liked it and I’m very happy for that, did some justice this time and spiced it up they can be out of character sometime so forgive me, hope y’all will enjoy it really worked hard on this one, not proofread <3
For two days, she’d managed to avoid him—strategically timing her office hours to when he wasn’t there, ignoring his messages, and pretending not to notice the way he seemed to linger just out of reach. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her.
That time came at the end of a long day when she thought she was safe. She gathered her things and prepared to turn around and head towards the door, only to feel a familiar presence.
“Thought you could avoid me forever?” His voice was low, smooth, and infuriatingly smug.
Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag as she turned, schooling her features into something calm and unaffected. “I’m busy. Move.”
He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Busy ignoring me? Impressive effort, but I don’t take silence well.”
“I’m not ignoring you,” she lied, stepping forward to brush past him.
His arm shot out, blocking her path. “Really? Then why haven’t you answered my messages? Or were you too busy pondering about how much fun we had in the alley?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she shot back, her tone clipped as she tried to push past him again.
But this time, he shifted, moving to block her entirely and locking the door with a quick twist of his wrist. The faint click of the lock sent a chill down her spine, though she refused to show it.
“Let me go,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as she felt her pulse quicken.
He leaned back against the door, his arms crossed lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. “Not until we settle something.”
She arched a brow, masking her unease with irritation. “And what’s so important that you’re resorting to theatrics?”
His grin widened, his gaze sparkling with that insufferable confidence. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to take you to dinner, didn’t I? Unless, of course, you’d rather recall how I made you feel so good in the alley.”
She blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. “That was two days ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters to me.” He stepped closer, the teasing edge in his voice making her heart stutter. “You won, fair and square. So, dinner. Tonight.”
“Not happening,” she said firmly, though the conviction in her voice wavered slightly.
He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Why so stubborn? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m just not interested.”
“You’re lying.”
She glared at him, determined not to let him see how her resolve faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re avoiding the truth,” he countered, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between them. “But that’s fine. Say no if you want—I’ll still show up outside your door.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though the uncertainty in her voice made her doubt her own words.
“Try me,” he challenged, his tone light but his intent clear.
She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. “Fine. One dinner. But don’t make a habit of this.”
His grin broadened, a glimmer of triumph lighting up his face. “Perfect. Wear something elegant—something that’ll fit the place. I expect you’ll be just as stunning as you were in the alley”
“Excuse me?”
He ignored her indignation, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth. “See you tonight,” he murmured before stepping aside and unlocking the door.
She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected gesture. The smug look on his face only made her irritation flare, and she pushed past him with a sharp, “Don’t be late.”
As she walked away, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation. But the faint smile tugging at her lips told a different story.
-----
She stood before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of her bedroom light catching the gentle shimmer of her crimson dress. The bodice hugged her figure like it was made for her, the delicate cowl neckline draping gracefully across her collarbones, while the fabric flowed into a silky skirt that brushed the floor with every subtle movement. Her long, black hair fell in effortless curls to her waist, framing her face with a touch of timeless elegance. A sheer wrap rested loosely on her arms, adding a layer of ethereal softness that seemed to dance with every step.
Her phone buzzed on the dresser, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down to see his text: "I’ll be there in five." Letting out a small breath, she grabbed her purse, gave herself one last look, and headed downstairs.
The evening air was cool as she stepped outside, heels clicking softly against the pavement. There he was, leaning casually against a sleek black Audi A6, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. He wore a tailored black suit that framed his tall, broad figure perfectly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a black tie that added a sharp elegance to his appearance. His dark hair was neatly styled, though a rebellious strand fell over his forehead, softening his otherwise sharp features.
As she approached, his gaze locked on her, a flicker of admiration crossing his face before he straightened and stepped toward her. Without a word, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.
“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet sincere, his eyes holding hers for just a moment longer than necessary.
A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she managed a small, teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
His lips twitched into a smirk as he opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to step inside.
She settled into the plush leather seat, the soft scent of new car and faint cologne filling the space. The interior was sleek, with polished silver accents and an impressive digital dashboard glowing faintly in the dim light. She trailed her fingers over the armrest, the comfort and luxury surprising her.
“You own this?” she asked, glancing at him as he slipped into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel.
He chuckled softly. “Why? Did you think I’d show up in something less fitting?”
She shook her head, amused but still impressed, as they drove in silence toward their destination. He would make teasing comments here and there that earned a chuckle from her.
The car pulled up to one of the most elegant restaurants in town, its grand facade glowing with soft golden lights. Outside, a long line of patrons waited eagerly, some dressed to the nines, chatting in anticipation.
Her brows lifted in surprise at the sight. “You didn’t mention this place,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity.
Before he could respond, two security guards stepped forward, opening her door with practiced precision. One took the keys from him while the other escorted them toward the entrance. She noticed how the murmuring crowd shifted, heads turning as they walked past.
The guards held the doors open as they entered, bowing slightly in his direction. She bowed back out of respect, but he merely did, wrapping his arm around her waist as they stepped into the opulent dining area.
The restaurant was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a soft melody from a grand piano filled the air with an elegant ambiance.
They were guided to a private table near the window, the staff pulling out her chair as she sat. As he took his seat across from her, she leaned in slightly, her tone playful.
“Care to explain why everyone is treating you like you’re some mafia boss?”
He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. “Let’s just say I know how to make an impression.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”
The waitress approached with a professional yet warm smile, handing them menus. “Welcome. May I offer you something to start with?”
She glanced at the menu, the luxurious options catching her off guard. “Are there any prices on this thing, or do we just guess?” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.
He laughed softly. “Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. Feel free to splurge.”
She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Good, because I was planning to order the most expensive thing just to annoy you.”
“Be my guest,” he replied smoothly, his grin teasing. “But I hope you know that means dessert is non-negotiable.”
her eyes scanning the intricate names of dishes written in french. Brows furrowed, she tilted the menu closer as if the words would magically make sense the second time around.
“What is... uh, rat-a-tou-ille??” she sounded out slowly, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity.
His lips curved into an amused smile. “Ratatouille. It’s a vegetable dish—stewed with tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and herbs. Simple but classic..”
“Oh, okay. That doesn’t sound too bad,” she nodded before her eyes caught another word. “And this one? Coq... au vin??”
“Coq au vin” he corrected with a small laugh. “Chicken braised in red wine with mushrooms and bacon. Very traditional.”.”
She tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to consider it seriously, then moved on to another dish. “Bou-ya... bouillabaisse?”
“Bouillabaisse,” he supplied smoothly. “.It’s a fish stew with a mix of seafood, Want me to keep translating, or are you planning to make me read the whole menu for you?”
She shot him a playful glare. “Hey, these names are intimidating, okay? I didn’t grow up speaking fluent…. Uh, whatever this is."
“french” he said, unable to suppress the laugh that bubbled out. “I have to admit, though, this clueless act of yours is kind of adorable.”
She rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. “Whatever. I’ll just stick to this one.” She pointed to a dish she didn’t recognize but liked the sound of.
When he glanced at his menu filled with prices unlike hers, his smirk grew wider. “Interesting choice,” he mused, leaning back in his chair.
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh. “Just that it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, still grinning. “Repick. Or I’ll do it for you.”
She groaned, flipping through the menu again. “Fine. You pick.”
He didn’t even look at her menu, already knowing it by heart. “Filet de boeuf Rossini,” he said confidently.
Her eyes widened slightly. “That sounds... fancy.”
“It’s perfect,” he replied with a wink. “Trust me.”
The waitress returned, taking his order for a sole meunière and hers for the beef Rossini. “And a bottle of Château d’Yquem,” he added casually.
When the waitress nodded and walked away, she raised an eyebrow. “Château d’Yquem? What’s that?”
“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.
Moments later, the waitress returned with a sleek silver ice bucket, placing it on the table with a bottle of golden wine nestled inside. The light caught the liquid, making it shimmer, and her eyes widened as realization hit.
“This is wine?” she asked, pointing to the bottle.
“Not just any wine,” he said, pouring a glass with practiced ease. “It’s... exclusive.”
“How exclusive?” she pressed.
He took a slow sip, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re drinking liquid gold?”
He laughed at her incredulous expression, his voice rich with amusement. “Relax. Tonight’s on me, remember?”
She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
“Part of my charm,” he replied with a wink, setting his glass down.
Silence evoked as the air in the restaurant shimmered with quiet luxury, a symphony of muted chatter, piano tunes and crystal clinks filling the room. She leaned back against the chair, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. Her gaze flickered toward the expansive window, the city lights sprawling like a living canvas. There was an effortless grace to her, the way her crimson dress caught the glow of the chandeliers, the silk shifting like liquid fire with her every move.
He couldn’t look away.
His pupils sharpened with intensity as he studied her, the soft curve of her jawline, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in quiet awe. Her black hair, cascading in soft curls to her waist, gleamed under the golden light. She was a vision, suspended somewhere between elegance and rebellion, her beauty a contradiction he couldn’t quite define but didn’t want to stop trying to.
She tilted her head, her profile catching the faint light of the chandelier, and his breath hitched. As he took a sip of his whiskey, the taste burned less than the thought that this moment—her, here, now—felt like something he shouldn’t deserve.
He smirked at himself, shaking his head slightly. Get a grip.
But then she glanced back at him, catching his stare, her brow arching in question. “What?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he set his glass down. “Just taking it all in.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips.
Moments later their food arrived, the rich aroma wafting from her plate made her mouth water. She picked up her fork, taking a cautious bite. The moment the tender beef hit her taste buds, her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft hum of delight escaped her lips.
“This is... amazing,” she said, already diving in for another bite.
He watched her, captivated by the way she was completely absorbed in her food. Every little sound she made—those happy, involuntary noises—pulled his attention. For a moment, the bustling restaurant around them disappeared, leaving only her.
“You’re staring, again.” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his daze.
“You make it hard not to,” he admitted with a small smile.
She flushed, quickly taking another bite. “Just eat your food, so we can get done” she muttered.
He chuckled, cutting into his fish. They settled into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter between bites. At one point, she attempted to spear a piece of his fish with her fork, but he caught her wrist with a grin.
“Ah, ah. That’s mine,” he teased.
“Sharing is caring,” she retorted, but he held firm, playfully shaking his head.
He shook his head with exaggerated defiance, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad? Beg for it.”
She narrowed her eyes, “‘Never mind,’” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm as she went back to eat.
He chuckled, leaning closer. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t do it.”
“That’s it, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up abruptly and grabbing her bag.
He burst into laughter, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m messing with you,” he said, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her back into the chair.
She shot him a glare, crossing her arms. “You’re impossible.”
“But you love it,” he replied, giving her an amused smirk.
She sighed, reaching for her glass of water. As her gaze drifted across the room, it landed on a couple at a nearby table—so engrossed in each other they might as well have been the only two people in the restaurant. The man’s hand rested on the small of the woman’s back, and their faces were inches apart, whispering between soft kisses.
Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Get a room,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.
He followed her line of sight, his brow arching before a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Jealous?”
She snapped her head back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Please. That’s gross. There’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and it’s not next to someone trying to enjoy a meal.”
His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying her reaction. “You’re awfully opinionated for someone who didn’t seem to mind when I kissed you.”
Her cheeks flushed instantly. “That was different!”
“Oh, was it?” he teased, his tone playfully smug. “Because if I recall, you were the one leaning in first.”
Her jaw dropped. “I was not! You were the one who couldn’t keep it together and kissed me like some—”
“Like what?” he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Someone who’s not afraid to take a chance?”
She glared at him, struggling to find a comeback that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole. “You’re crazy,” she finally huffed, crossing her arms again.
“not as much as you,” he replied, his smirk softening just enough to make her annoyed
The unspoken tension hung like a storm cloud between them, unshakably present as they lingered in that charged moment. “Are you actually saying you wish you were that couple?” he asked, leaning in with a seriousness that made her heart constrict.
Her heart raced at his words, a flutter of uncertainty and curiosity mixing with annoyance. “I just think PDA is a bit much!” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “I mean, can’t people keep it to themselves?”
“Really?” he challenged, his voice low, brushing against her ear as he leaned closer. “Or maybe you’re just afraid of what it could feel like to let loose, to feel something real for once?”
Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, a desperate edge in her voice. She could feel the tension weave between them like a live wire, crackling with possibility.
“Maybe I do,” he replied, that daring glint in his eye making her pulse quicken. “Maybe you just need the right moment to let go.”
The couple at the table nearby erupted in laughter again, and she found herself glancing back at them, trying to refocus. But when she looked up, he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. “Forget them,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, pulling her even further into his orbit. “What do you want? Something real? Or more of this… competition?”
Before she could formulate a response, he suddenly stood, extending a hand toward her. “Come with me.”
“Where?” she asked, hesitating but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of doing something entirely unexpected.
“A place where we can talk,” he replied, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Unless you’re too scared to follow.”
With her heart racing and her mind swirling with uncertainty, she placed her hand in his. He led her through the restaurant’s bustling dining area, weaving through startled diners and busy waitstaff. But there was no turning back. The thrill of being drawn into the unknown ignited something within her.
They approached a door at the back of the restaurant, and she felt both exhilarated and apprehensive. He flung it open, and they stepped into a dimly lit hallway lined with fancy doors that seemed to whisper secrets.
“Seriously, where are we?” she asked, blinking in the low light as confusion mixed with an adrenaline high.
“Somewhere more private,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering with mischief and something deeper. “We won’t be interrupted here.”
Her pulse raced, excitement and fear coiling in her stomach. “Is this your idea of romance?” she shot back, the challenge lacing her voice, even as heat coursed through her.
“Maybe it’s just my idea of taking risks,” he countered, stepping closer, the space between them charged in a way that made her skin tingle. “You might even enjoy it.”
The energy shifted as they stood beneath the dim glow of the overhead light, their breaths mingling in the tight space. She caught herself wanting to feel the weight of his words, the electricity in the air. “What if someone catches?” she asked, half playful and half serious, but the way he was looking at her made her thrill with curiosity.
“Let them,” he said, eyes smouldering, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. “Are you really going to back down now?”
She felt a rush of defiance surge within her, mixed with undeniable attraction. “I’m not afraid,” she said boldly, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the thrill and lust she was trying to suppress.
“Then let’s find out how dangerous this might get,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, igniting the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
With that, he turned on his heel, pulling her deeper into the hall, and she felt her heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Each step into the unknown only drew them closer together, and she couldn't shake the thrill of what lay ahead—the thrilling uncertainty,
He paused in front of an ornate door that looked far more expensive than the rest, its golden handle glinting in the dim light. With a knowing smirk, he pushed it open, and she was met with an intoxicating scent—rich cologne mingling with something deeper, something intimate that tugged at her senses.
As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The room was lavishly decorated, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. An oversized leather couch sat in the center along with a table, surrounded by walls adorned with vibrant artwork that seemed to pull her in. Warm lights cast a cozy glow, and a plush rug covered the floor, offering a sense of comfort veiled in sultriness.
“wow,” she breathed, taking in the opulence, momentarily forgetting the tension simmering between them.
“Sit,” he commanded softly, gesturing toward the couch. She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, settling into the soft fabric while he moved around the room, his gaze scanning various items scattered about—a vintage record player, a collection of intriguing books, and an array of exotic liquor bottles.
Stopping at a sleek display cabinet, he opened the door and pulled out a pistol, its silver surface gleaming in the warm light. A grin played across his lips as he turned to face her, an unsettling excitement dancing in his eyes.
“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Russian roulette.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?”
“Relax.” He waved his hand dismissively, the light glinting off the barrel. “Only this time, we’re playing with a twist. There’s only one bullet, and each time the gun goes off, we have to strip a piece of clothing.”
A mix of thrill and apprehension surged through her. “That’s insane.”
“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk deepening, “but wouldn’t it be fun?”
With a defiant spark in her eyes, she leaned forward. “Fine, let’s play.”
He sat across from her, the couch sinking slightly under his weight, and loaded the bullet into the chamber with a casualness that both intrigued and unnerved her. He spun the cylinder and brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger—click. He laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room,
“Not so scary, right?” he teased, loosening his suit jacket. With a fluid motion, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung to his frame, accentuating the muscular definition of his arms and shoulders. The sight made her pulse quicken
“Your turn.” He passed the gun to her.
She arched an eyebrow but took the gun, feeling its weight in her hand. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. She spun the cylinder herself, heart racing, and then pressed it to her temple. Click. A rush of relief washed over her.
“Now it’s time to shed that scarf,” he said with a teasing tone. With a quick, decisive movement, she untied the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor, feeling freer, more emboldened.
“Here you go,” she responded, tossing the gun back to him. The tension was tangible as he caught it effortlessly.
filled with a languid confidence. “Ready?” He pressed the barrel once more to his temple—click. The sound rang through the air like a taunt, a challenge freighted with electricity.
“Lucky again,” he grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
“What’s next? Your shirt?” she quipped, eager to see how far this would go.
His gaze flicked to her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he loosens the tie taking it off, before he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. With each button undone, the cloth pulled away to reveal the chiselled muscles of his torso, the defined lines and curves making her breathless. He threw the shirt aside, letting it flutter to the ground like a fallen banner of surrender.
She couldn’t help but take in the sight, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. she breathed, both impressed and challenged by the game they were playing.
“Like what you see? Now it’s your turn,” he teased, giving her the gun once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
She took the gun, spun the cylinder yet again, and pressed it against her temple—click. Relief flooded her, but the tension was palpable.
���Let’s play it safe,” she decided, slipping off her heels and leaving her feet bare on the plush rug beneath her. The contact with the soft Fibers felt grounding after the intensity of the game.
“Back to me,” he said, taking the gun from her hands once more. He spun the cylinder, glancing at her with that effortless chill. “Here we go.”
With a languid movement, he pressed the cold metal against his own temple, a shrug of confidence reflecting in his posture. He squeezed the trigger—click. The sound reverberated, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.
She felt a small knot of apprehension twist in her stomach. Could they keep going like this? The stakes were rising, and she felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.
He turned to her, offering her the gun again. “Your turn. Only two triggers are left, make sure not to die.”
With a mixture of determination and nerve, she accepted the gun from him. Her heart raced as she spun the cylinder for what felt like the hundredth time.
He stood to remove his shoes, casually tossing them to the side. That simple act ignited something within her, a thrilling edge of power and vulnerability. Just as he prepared to sit down, she lunged forward with a sudden burst of resolve.
With a swift motion, she pinned him against the couch, the gun now aimed firmly at his chest.
"What’s the matter?" he teased, the laughter in his eyes shifting to something darker. “Afraid you will die?”
“Not a chance,” she challenged, taking a seat on his lap, her pulse racing. In a moment of reckless defiance, she kept the gun pointed at him. “You think this is a game?”
He laughed, a wild, psychotic sound that echoed against the walls. his hands resting firmly on her waist, the gun now pressed against his chest as he leaned in closer. “I love it when you take charge.”
“You’re going to regret underestimating me,” she said, catching a glimpse of the wild delight dancing in his eyes.
“so it’s Game over for me?” he taunted, his words dripping with boldness. His hands slowly wandered to her thighs, fingers teasing, sending pulses of electricity coursing through her. “Shame, really. I’d hate to die without pleasuring you.”
Her breath hitched at his insinuation, his cocky demeanour igniting an uncontrollable fire within her. The tension crackled like static in the air, urging her to respond.
“You wish.” she said, her voice wavering slightly with the rush of emotions surging through her.
With a fury of need and desire, she leaned in and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, their mouths colliding in an explosion of pent-up frustration and attraction. The world around them melted away as her heart raced. The moment was electric, and in the whirlwind of passion, she pulled the trigger.
But all that followed was a click.
The sound ricocheted in the silence between them, and her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away. The thrill morphed into a dizzying rush as realization struck—there had been no bullet, no fatal ending, only the raw, intoxicating energy swirling in the air between them.
That's when he took the gun from her hands, his movements quick and decisive, a spark of defiance in his eyes. With a swift motion, he tossed it across the room, the gun landing with a loud thud against the wall.
“If you wanted my tongue against you, then you’ve fucking earned it,” he spat, crashing their lips together in a fierce, hungry kiss.
Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging tightly, igniting a low groan that reverberated into her mouth.
"You wanted to fucking kill me, sweetheart," he growled, biting her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from her.
“It was your game,” she countered, the adrenaline pulsing through her like fire.
“And yet,” he replied, his voice dark and sultry, “I’d never kill you.”
“I wouldn’t either.” She pulled back, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes roamed over his swollen lips and messy hair, an enticing sight.
“So, why did you aim that gun at me? Say it.”
“Because I was too damn scared, you’d do it instead of me,” she admitted, feeling his grip on her loosen slightly.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to make a scene,” he murmured, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt with confidence.
“Kneel,” he demanded, helping her rise before guiding her down so she knelt on the floor, her dress cascading around her like a waterfall.
“You want to act like a little slut? Then suck until your mouth isn’t filthy,” he spat, and she flashed him a smirk as she slid his pants down, revealing his hard on.
Her hand wrapped around the base of him, moving up and down slowly, the rhythm sending soft growls of pleasure from his lips. As she continued pumping back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern the more he strived for her lips.
“Did you not hear me? I said suck,” he snapped, frustration threading through his tone.
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You call me a slut yet can’t wait a moment longer?” With a teasing glimmer in her eyes, she leaned forward, taking his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat forming on his chest as he succumbed to the jolting pleasure.
Without warning he bunched her hair up in his fist and pushed his tip to the back of her throat, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she gagged. The sight of her watering eyes only seemed to rile him up.
“Look how fucking beautiful you are, my darling. Take all of me, just like the good whore you are," he breathed, pleasure dripping from his words.
Her eyes glistened with tears. and he watched her head bob back and forth.
"fuck I'm going to—" he gasped, releasing her head and pulling back slightly. But before he could finish himself off, she caught his hand, her determination surging, and continued, letting the warm liquid hit the back of her throat while he moaned, curses spilling from his lips until he finished.
He fixed his gaze on her as she swallowed every drop, wiping her bottom lip clean with a satisfied smile. “You’re not finishing with me down here,” she challenged, cheeky confidence returning.
“Insanity suits you,” he replied, standing and holding out a hand to help her rise. “Now let’s see just how wet you are for me.”
He led her to the table, and a surge of vulnerability washed over her as he slammed her against it giving him full access to her clit, while her stomach pressed against the polished wood. His hands roamed the insides of her thighs, and she softly moans as he moved her lace underwear to the side, his fingers brushing against her trembling skin
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back, connecting their lips once more, sucking on her bottom lip. After He released her hair, his hand quickly found her clit, eliciting a moan that was both pleasure and pain.
“Make a scene, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how much you enjoy this," he seethed, delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp, her stomach hitting the table harder.
As he moved her dress out of the way, he slowly removed her thong. Her grip tightened on the table's edges, anticipation thrumming in her veins. But just as she exhaled, he pressed a blade to her neck, drawing a gasp from her lips as he grabbed another fistful of hair to pull her back.
“I’m going to fuck you until you beg to finish, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But this is on my terms. Move too much, and your blood will splatter.” She nodded slowly, and without warning he pushed himself inside of her.
She gasped, feeling every inch of him stretching her, she felt his eyes darken with lust as he fucked her against the table. Each powerful thrust accompanied by the sound of the table squeaking beneath her, the blade scratched at her skin making her hiss at the foreign pain of the knife grazing her neck.
“you like that? hmm” he asked, delight etched in his expression.
“I do. It hurts," she admitted, breathless.
“Tell me to stop,”
But the words caught in her throat, her senses overwhelmed as the blade pressed deeper, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes back in pleasure.
“ But that's the thing, you like that huh? You don't have to hide what you truly want. I know you like this blade at your neck. Watch how good you take my dick slut" he groaned into her ear picking up the pace and she could already feel herself coming close to finishing.
A few more cuts on her neck and he flipped her over, her back colliding with the table, the sharp contrast of sensations sending goosebumps over her skin.
He poured his focus on the cuts, pressing kisses over the crimson marks as the metallic taste lingered in the air. The euphoric mix of pain and pleasure sent her into a frenzy, her nails digging into his bare back as he slipped himself back inside of her her.
“You won’t be the only one leaving this room marked,” she moaned in between their kisses. Both of them cursing and filling the room with the sound of their pleasure.
Their bodies moved in sync, letting the euphoria continue and their pace become sloppy. a dangerous dance of desire and desperation, the air thick with their shared moans and whispered curses.
“I’m gonna—"
“Not yet,” he interrupted, the tension in his voice low and commanding.
“I can't—” she yelped when he stopped, a sharp smack to her ass, only hard enough to sting.
“You can, and you will,” he grunted, slamming into her again, her hips bucking against him as he threw her leg onto his shoulder, pushing deeper. His penetrating gaze bore into her, making sure she didn’t disobey.
“Beg if you wanna finish.”
“Please,” she pleaded, breathless urgency coloring her voice.
“You're mine. Never forget that. Got it?" he growled. She hummed in agreement.
“Use your words,”
“Yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. Cum for me. Be a good girl,” he murmured, and she quickly became undone. After a couple more strokes he finished after, his head rolling back in delight.
Her legs quivering and the short circuit of her brain stopping for just a moment. It was almost as if her body was made to be with him alone, each pulse and surge a beautiful convergence of pleasure and pain.
He tucked himself back before effortlessly lifting her off the table. Her feet barely touched the floor before her legs wobbled beneath her, struggling to support her weight.
"I can’t walk," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table for support, the remnants of their passion still buzzing in her veins.
"What was that?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"You heard me. Shut up and help me stand up," she sneered, irritation mingling with the lingering satisfaction in her tone.
He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice low and steady. With gentle firmness, he helped her regain her footing, guiding her away from the table as she leaned into him.
They took a few tentative steps, and he chuckled again, the sound warm against her ear. "You really know how to make things interesting."
“Oh, shut up,” she replied, though a smile betrayed her annoyance. “You’re lucky I’m even standing,” she added with a playful roll of her eyes.
“Lucky? I was thinking of round two,” he shot back with a grin, winking at her as they made their way towards the couch. Unaware of long night they’re about to witness.
part 1
#squid game#squid game smut#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game salesman#the salesman#the salesman x reader#salesman smut#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo#be nice#intimate#smut#i’ll cry
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fragmented | nam-gyu
pairing: nam-gyu x gn! reader
genre: angst with some fluff
summary: nam-gyu relapses into drug use, and when y/n finds him in a fragile state, they offer comfort and reassurance. y/n promises to help him through the struggle, reminding him he’s not alone in the fight.
author’s note: i love nam-gyu. i just wanted to contribute and provide something for my fellow nam-gyu admirers. this imagine takes place prior to the games.
The dim light of the apartment barely illuminated the chaos inside. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a chair overturned, and the faint, acrid smell of smoke lingered in the air. You had come straight from work after Nam-gyu hadn’t returned any of your texts or calls all day. A pit of worry had settled in your stomach, and now, as you opened the door to find him sitting in the corner of the room, trembling, that worry turned to a heavy ache in your chest.
His knees were drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, his head resting on top as if the weight of the world was too much to bear. His once-vibrant eyes were clouded, red-rimmed, and glassy. A crumpled packet lay nearby, damning evidence of the fight he had tried so hard to win but lost today.
“Nam-gyu…” Your voice was soft, cautious, not wanting to startle him.
His head snapped up anyway, his face crumpling the moment he saw you. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, voice hoarse, as though he’d been screaming or crying—or both. “I—I tried. I swear I tried.”
You immediately knelt in front of him, reaching out, but he flinched. The sight broke your heart into a thousand shards. “Hey, it’s okay,” you whispered, even though it wasn’t okay. Not for him, not for you. But right now, he didn’t need reminders of failure. He needed you to anchor him before he drifted further away.
“I promised you,” he said, voice cracking. His hands shook violently as he pressed them against his temples, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I promised I’d stop. I just—I couldn’t. It hurts, Y/N. It hurts so much.”
You inched closer, carefully wrapping your arms around his hunched form. He stiffened at first, but then his body crumbled into yours, his face burying in the crook of your neck. His skin was clammy, his breaths erratic.
“I’m here,” you murmured, stroking his disheveled hair. “You’re not alone in this. I’ve got you, Nam-gyu.”
He clung to you as though you were his lifeline, sobs wracking his frame. “What’s wrong with me?” he mumbled against your shoulder. “Why can’t I just be normal for you?”
“Nam-gyu, listen to me.” You pulled back just enough to cup his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and the sight of his anguish nearly undid you, but you steadied your voice for his sake. “You’re not broken, and you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, and I’ll keep being here, okay? We’ll get through this together.”
He nodded shakily, though his eyes still brimmed with self-loathing. You pressed your forehead to his, letting the silence stretch between you. Your steady breaths guided his, slowing his erratic rhythm until he could breathe without gasping.
“I’ll call the counselor tomorrow,” you said gently, brushing a tear from his cheek. “We’ll get you back on track. One step at a time.”
Nam-gyu sniffled, his lips trembling. “You really don’t hate me?”
You gave him a small, tender smile. “I could never hate you. You’re fighting, Nam-gyu. Even when you stumble, you’re still fighting. That’s what matters.”
His arms tightened around you again, and for the first time in hours, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in his tired eyes. You stayed like that for a long time, holding him close, reminding him with every touch and every word that he wasn’t alone—that you’d always be there, even when the battle felt impossible.
#nam-gyu x reader#namgyu x reader#squid game s2#nam-gyu x gn! reader#namgyu x gn! reader#gender neutral reader#player 124#nam-gyu#player 124 x reader#squid game x reader#squid game
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