#oh man somehow this took way more than i thought

[cece693]

What Can I Say? I'm a Man

pairing: will graham x male reader tags: just me being silly, but also serious cause will has a dumptruck, have you guys seen it, just me living vicariously through my fics cause damn, I would risk it all like hannibal did for will, will is a tease, beverly is the best wingwoman

When you joined the FBI’s Behavioral Science division, you expected a mountain of paperwork, a boss who spoke in monotone, and coworkers who lived on stale coffee. What you didn’t expect was Will Graham. Specifically, you didn’t expect his eyes to sparkle with shy intelligence—or for his perfectly round, absolutely mesmerizing butt to distract you at every turn.

The day you first met, Will wore an innocent-looking pair of jeans that somehow hugged every inch of his backside. It wasn’t your fault your eyes lingered on him longer than they should. You tried (and failed) to act like you were just adjusting your tie or checking the time on your phone. But anyone glancing your way could see the obvious: you were hooked.

Will, meanwhile, had always carried himself with a certain reticence. Soft-spoken, thoughtful, and occasionally lost in his own world. But when you walked in—tall, confident, exuding a suave air that made hearts skip—Will took note. Over the next few weeks, he realized he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. After all, you weren’t the only one thirsting over a coworker. Will found himself daydreaming about you in ways he knew weren’t entirely professional.

He told himself to snap out of it. He was a dedicated profiler, for heaven’s sake. But the moment he noticed you trying to discreetly peek at his backside? Let’s just say a certain mischievous streak awoke in him, one he rarely let others see.

Beverly Katz was the first to call you out. One morning, after Will sauntered by your desk in a pair of freshly pressed slacks that clung to him like sin, you nearly choked on your coffee. Beverly appeared at your elbow, smirking. “Is it me,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “or are his pants one size too small?”

You sputtered and tried to look offended. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She gave you a playful shove. “Just make sure you’re hydrating, because you look ready to pass out whenever he bends over a file box.”

You shot her a glare, cheeks blazing, but you couldn’t deny the truth. Will’s backside was a lethal weapon, and your thirst was borderline criminal. Beverly, for her part, found your plight endlessly entertaining. She took special delight in watching your eyes follow Will across the bullpen—like a starved man chasing a steak.

Will was fully aware of your wandering eyes. At first, it made him blush furiously—he wasn’t used to such direct admiration. But gradually, a little voice in the back of his head teased, Show him what he wants.

It started small: the subtle arch of his back when he stretched, ensuring that his hips angled perfectly in your line of sight. Then he progressed to wearing jeans a tad too snug on casual Fridays, or slightly fitted dress pants on normal workdays, all to test your reaction. And oh, he relished those reactions. He’d catch your jaw going slack, or see you turn a particularly vibrant shade of red. He’d pretend not to notice, hiding a smirk behind his paperwork.

But somewhere along the line, Will’s game stopped being purely playful. Because the more he turned up the heat—giving you unobstructed views of his glorious butt—the more he wanted your attention in other ways, too. He found himself fantasizing about you pushing him up against a desk, or catching him in the break room alone, pressing him against the wall.

It all came to a head one fateful Friday. Will strutted into work wearing dark-wash jeans that fit so snugly you could see every contour of his backside. The entire bullpen seemed to collectively do a double-take, but you nearly swallowed your tongue. Even Beverly let out a low whistle—something about “we need an HR meeting just for those jeans.”

You spent the day doing a terrible job of working, fidgeting at your desk, mind consumed with images of what it would feel like to squeeze, grab, knead that…ahem. By lunchtime, you were seriously considering faking a migraine and going home to avoid spontaneously combusting.

Beverly, noticing your tension, decided to nudge things along. She strode to your desk, arms crossed, a sly grin on her face. “He’s in the break room. Now’s your chance.”

“My chance for what?” You tried to play dumb.

She rolled her eyes. “To finally do something about the pining! My God, it’s unbearable. If you don’t make a move, I’m going to do it for you.” You set down your pen with a sigh, mustering your courage. Heart pounding, you headed toward the break room. Sure enough, Will was there, pouring coffee into a mug with his back turned. As you walked in, he half-glanced over his shoulder, smiling when he realized it was you. Then, deliberately, he arched his back just a bit more while he set the coffee pot down.

The flex was so obvious that you nearly tripped over your own feet. Your face went hot. You cleared your throat, trying to appear composed. “H-Hey, Will.”

He turned around slowly, eyes dancing with amusement. “Hey.”

He leaned a hip against the counter, crossing one foot over the other. The way his jeans stretched over his thighs and butt was… distracting, to say the least. “You, uh—” You gulped. “You look nice today.” It was an understatement of the century, but you had to start somewhere.

Will’s lips quirked. “Thanks. I may have chosen these jeans on purpose.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, heart stuttering. “O-on purpose for…?”

He took a step closer, leaving the coffee mug behind. “For you,” he admitted quietly, cheeks coloring. “I’ve noticed how you look at me. I…I kind of like it.”

For a moment, you forgot how to form words. Your mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts: He noticed? He did this for me? You inhaled sharply, setting your mug down before you spilled scalding coffee everywhere. “Will, I—I’m not exactly subtle, I know. I hope I never made you uncomfortable.”

A gentle laugh escaped him. “No, never uncomfortable. Believe me, I’m flattered—more than flattered.”

He edged close enough that you could smell his cologne, a warm, woodsy scent. “You’re…you’re the hot coworker in the department, you know,” Will whispered, eyes flicking over your face.

That statement alone made your brain short-circuit. He thinks I’m hot? Will swallowed, his voice going soft but urgent. “If you want to, maybe—kiss me, or—”

It was your turn to step in, bridging the last few inches between you. Without overthinking, you cupped his cheek and pressed your lips to his. It was tentative at first, a gentle, testing kiss that felt more like a question than a statement. But Will answered eagerly, sliding his hands around your waist. When your tongue brushed against his lips, he parted them with a quiet sigh, deepening the kiss. It sent a thrill down your spine—God, you’d been waiting for this forever.

As the kiss intensified, your hand drifted down, fingertips resting on the slope of his lower back. With a trembling breath, you moved lower, finally cupping that glorious backside you’d been admiring for so long. Will’s jeans were firm and warm beneath your touch, and the muscle underneath made your mind spin.

He responded with a soft gasp, his eyes fluttering shut. “Took you long enough,” he teased, voice muffled against your mouth.

You couldn’t hold back a husky chuckle. “I’ve been dying to do that since the day I met you.”

He pressed closer, effectively pinning you against the counter. “Let’s make up for lost time, then.” Your other hand joined in, giving a playful squeeze. The heat of the moment was intense, but it still felt safe—like you both understood exactly how far to push. Will’s breath hitched, and for a second, you worried you might’ve overstepped.

But he grinned, eyes dark with want. “I told Beverly I wanted to climb you like a dog in heat,” he confessed, half-laughing at his own words.

You let out a shocked, delighted bark of laughter. “I’m sorry—what?”

He buried his face in your shoulder, clearly mortified. “It just…slipped out during a moment of weakness.”

Your heart flipped. You slid a hand up to his nape, fingers threading through his curls. “Well, if it helps, I take it as the highest compliment.”

As if on cue, the door swung open behind you, and in walked Beverly—again. She stopped dead, mouth forming a little o of surprise as she caught you and Will pressed together. You tried to jump away, but Will’s grip on you was firm, almost possessive.

“Oh wow,” Beverly said, bright grin spreading across her face, “so that’s what a coffee break looks like these days.”

You cleared your throat. “I—um—we—this isn’t—” Will simply shook his head, looking half-flustered, half-amused. “Beverly.”

She lifted her phone as though to snap a picture, but your death-glare dissuaded her. Still, she was positively glowing with smugness. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you have your privacy—just wanted to see if the machine had been refilled.”

Will turned to pick up his abandoned mug. “I think so,” he said as casually as possible. You, meanwhile, tried not to look like a teenager caught making out at prom. Beverly gave you a thumbs-up on her way out the door. “Carry on, lovebirds.”

Once the coast was clear, Will looked at you with amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I’d say we owe Beverly some kind of gift basket for pushing us together.”

You shook your head in exasperation, though you couldn’t hide your grin. “Yes, but also, she’s never going to let us live this down.” Will shrugged, leaning closer. “I think it’s worth the trade.” And then he placed a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips, making your heart flutter.

“Do you—would you like to go out tonight?” you asked, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Maybe somewhere that doesn’t involve stale coffee and the prying eyes of our coworkers?”

He smiled softly. “I’d love that. Actually, I know this cozy little restaurant near Wolf Trap. Good food, decent beer, and I’ve been dying to take you there.” Your smile widened. “Sounds like a plan.”

That night, you and Will exchanged suit jackets for something more casual, meeting up outside the FBI offices. The tension between you was still there, but it had softened into a warm, mutual understanding. You wanted each other—and not just physically, though that part was undeniably electric.

Over dinner, you laughed, you talked, you learned little details about each other that you’d never have gleaned from mere hallway small talk. And the glances—those heated, affectionate glances—spoke volumes about the things you’d do when you finally got some real privacy.

Before parting ways, you found yourselves tangled in a kiss beside Will’s car, the cool night air contrasting sharply with the fire coursing through your veins. Will’s arms draped around your shoulders, your hands found their customary place on his waist, traveling south to rest on those perfect curves once again. He hummed in approval, nipping at your lower lip.

You parted, breathless and smiling. “I can’t believe it took us so long,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against his.

Will’s eyes shone with affection. “Sometimes the best things are worth waiting for.” He paused, then added with a playful smirk, “But don’t think I’m done torturing you with these jeans at work.”

A laugh burst out of you, full of relief and excitement. “Torture away, Graham. Just don’t be surprised if I return the favor.”

[vampworks]

Playing games you can't win

Pairing: Caleb x Reader

w/c: 1.1K

A/n: me and that chip have beef, also Caleb and dog coded love has me like charlie day at that red string board.

Summary:After three week of Caleb trying to win you over, you finally have enough. He quickly finds that he can't handle it.

Warning: Toxic love, pipspeak as a pet name, mourning, intimacy, angst, Caleb gets very little comfort

The push and pull was far too much. The heat was far too much. For three weeks, the two of you had been 'playing house' in Caleb's sad condo above the city. Your mission was long since ruined by the colonel, so your days were spent watching Wontony float around. You'd ask the poor robot questions about a man it seemed you both had just met.

'The Colonel was a cold, calculating shell of a man you couldn't stand. All attempts to draw a reaction were pointless. A cup thrown and shattered at his chest. His response? Nothing but an empty grin and tease. Caleb on the other hand, was all heat. He is just as touchy as he was when you were kids if not more. When he did appear, he'd test how far you would let him. His large hands carefully tread down your shoulders only to rest above the small of your waist. He stops completely, staring into your eyes and searching (Pleading) for approval. It hasn't come.

The once-narrowed eyes completely softened leaving behind a starved dog begging for anything akin to touch. You could have called him pathetic at the sight of him on his knees; hell, he sure does. The two of you were so close. Caleb was practically vibrating while pawing you in every place he could. Lilac eyes traced the curve of your jaw and neck as if you'd break if he lost even a moment of control. The epitome of every slow-burn romance you had forced him to see growing up. Each of those followed the same pattern. He studied each one just as closely as planes or bugs in the backyard.

meet-cute

build-up

some kind of misunderstanding breaking the progression and the two separate

The problem is resolved, and the music swells.

The big kiss

pg-13 rated makeout scene

and they ride off into the sunset

He had tried so hard to follow the plan. Maybe then you fall for him like he had from the start. Nothing about this "resurrection" has gone right so far, so here we are back at the starting line every time Caleb falls to catch himself. Far too much Far too soon

So he'll wait for you to make the first move. He'll wait like he always has, but now it kills him to know you're finally seeing him as the crazed man he is. No more hiding, no more wishing from afar.

Now is the time to call in reinforcements, so movie night it is. Don't ask how long it took to organize a full weekend off, but for you, it was more than worth it.

'10 things I hate about you' is on the screen before you both. The smell of braised chicken was still in the air from dinner as Caleb slowly inches his way to your side of the couch. By the time Heath Ledger sings on the bleachers, his left arm slowly comes to rest on the back of the couch. behind your head. After bickering over whether Cruel Intentions or Pretty Woman should be next, somehow your legs just fell into his lap. Oh no, guess you'll just have to leave them there because' the movie is starting. It seems 'Cruel Intentions' won while you aren't looking.

you were so focused on his dorky grin and teasing that he won again with his evol. The man chokes down a snort as the title card plays, but you only glare and huff. It's a small thing, but it only sets him back further behind as the memory of him holding your legs down with it comes crawling back up. Seeing red, you storm off. Sure, you're a sore loser, but dear God, can you have one night without feeling weak compared to him? Without the thought of the colonel.

He follows you throughout the apartment with a racing heart. He begs for another chance for you to just see things his way. His words go in one ear and out the other as you pack your things, practically shoving them back into your luggage. He stops you in the doorway, falling to his knees. "Please, let me fix this. I love you more than you could ever know. All of this has been for you." Large trembling fingers grasp around your legs, his head pressed into your waist. "Let go, Caleb." You muttered through gritted teeth. You couldn't play this game anymore. You weren't the kid he left behind, and he was the boy you had spent a year mourning. He only held tighter. "You don't understand, pip. I just got you back. How in the hell am I suppose' to live without you again?" He barked. You scoffed. "That's the thing. You can't fathom the idea of me gone, but I had to bury you. That's why I will always win this little game,huh?" You lift his head with your fingers beneath his chin. He lets out something like a whine. A new dark thought now surfaced: you'd give him exactly what he wanted from the start. You'd be his while you held his leash.

You bend down to kiss him. It's rough and heated. Nothing like those movies before. A disgusting mess of teeth clashing and you biting his lip till it bleeds. Neither of you pulled away for air, now in a game of who would own the other and who was a coward. Caleb seems to break as tears threaten to fall down the apple of his cheeks. Every voice in his head screams out to grab you and never let go, but he doesn't. He told you that any pain you gave him was a gift to be cherished, and this was no different.

Soon enough, the man is a mess, gazing back up at you as you pull away. "Breathe, Caleb. I love you too." Your voice is sickeningly sweet as your hands find purchase in his hair, soothing him. "Bye~." The door slams,

A second later, you're gone down the hall, bring up a finger to swipe away the blood.

There's a gaping hole in my chest. A you-sized hole that aches and calls out to be filled. For years I watched over you as a dog guarding its flock. My teeth and claws protected you from the wolves all around but I was just as hungry as them. I longed for your taste as I kissed your wounds. I dreamt of your touch as you hugged me. My eyes are tearing into your flesh just as they would. I am no better, but maybe You have always known this and loved me anyway. Maybe your love will absolve my sins.

[hinata-boke]

the greatest decoy

[beloveds-embrace]

part 2 of baker!reader + do not ever ask me to write accents lmao i suck at those 💀😭 and a huge thank you to all the sweet and dessert suggestions! i couldn't add all of them, but oh my god did i love all of them and choosing between them was sooo hard (that's what she said). if your dessert didn't make it here im soo sorry 😭

It was a quiet morning when you finally decided to reopen the bakery. The town had been whispering, speculating about the sudden disappearance of your husband—tragic, they said, to be found mauled by a bear in the woods. You hadn’t shed a tear, hadn’t flinched at the news. Maybe that was cruel of you, but after what you had endured, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for him anymore. Not fear, not sadness—just relief.

And now, with the bakery open once again, you felt lighter. Freer.

The 141 boys were there first thing, as you had hoped. Each one walking into the cozy space like they belonged there. Their heavy, winter boots made the wooden floors creak, their towering frames somehow making the space feel intimate rather than intimidating. You smiled as the familiar smell of fresh bread and sugar lingered in the air, the warmth of the ovens cocooning you and the rest of the bakery in comfort. Free from that terrible man you’d called a husband, it was as if the world itself was taking on a more vibrant color.

“Morning, sweetheart,” John greeted you, his eyes crinkling beneath his hat, though there was something watchful in his gaze.

“Bonnie,” Johnny chirped, leaning on the counter, his eyes sparkling as they usually did when he spoke to you. “Place smells heavenly as always.”

“You’re open today, huh?” Kyle said, grinning as he eyed the display of pastries lined up neatly behind the glass. “Missed our favorite baker, honestly.”

Simon didn’t say anything at first, just gave you a long, steady look from behind his mask. You knew he had seen the signs. He was the only one who had seen the bruises, had taken your hands so gently that day and whispered that promise. You hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t said anything in return, but you had trusted him all the same. You are glad you did. You are so glad it’d been him to see.

Now, as you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped out from behind the counter, your heart was lighter than it had been in months. “Everything’s on the house today,” you said, your smile wider than it had been in ages. “For you guys, at least. After all… I’ve got a few new things for you to try.”

Soap raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that so? Then we’re in for a treat, eh boys?”

You went back to the counter, pulling out a few trays and plates, your hands moving quickly as you started setting them down in front of the men, watching their eyes light up at the spread. “I’ve been experimenting,” you said, your voice light, almost teasing. “For John, I’ve got pecan pie. Thought you might like it—something a bit rich, a bit warm.” Like you, goes unsaid but you hoped he still heard it.

John’s eyes gleamed as he accepted the slice you placed in front of him. “Always knew you were a mind reader,” he murmured with a chuckle, cutting into the pie and taking a bite. The smile that spread across his face was slow, but appreciative.

“For you, Kyle, lemon meringue tarts. Something sharp, refreshing. A little tangy,” you said, setting the plate in front of him. “And a bit sweet, too. Had a feeling you’d like it!”

Kyle laughed, picking up the tart and admiring it at first. “You know me too well.” He took a bite, his eyes widening at the burst of lemon on his tongue and then groaning in delight. “Perfect, as always.”

Simon watched you closely, and when you placed a plate of apple fritters in front of him, his gaze softened just slightly. “Made these with you in mind,” you said, your voice gentle. “Thought you’d appreciate something classic, Si. Simple, but comforting.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just nodded in that way of his, taking the fritter in his gloved hand. When he took a bite, his eyes closed briefly, and you could see the silent approval in the way his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.

“And for you, Johnny,” you giggled, setting down a small bowl of Cranachan in front of him. “Thought you might like something traditional- whisky, raspberries, oats, and cream. Feels like a bit of home, doesn’t it? At least I hope so. It was my first time making it.”

Johnny beamed all the same, eagerly reaching for a spoon. “Ah, bonnie, you’re spoiling us.”

But it wasn’t just them you were thinking of. You had made a fresh batch of focaccia bread for yourself, but this wasn’t just any bread- it was bold, spiced with rosemary and topped with chilli flakes and garlic. It was a reflection of your own newfound boldness. You’d been quiet, subdued for so long. Now, you wanted to feel alive again.Perhaps it might seem corny, but this focaccia bread meant to signify that for you.

You set a slice of the focaccia on a plate for yourself, taking a bite as you sat with them, your smile not faltering for a second. It was savoury- settling warmth in your stomach. “I think this might be my new favorite, actually.” you said with a soft laugh. In your mind, you were already thinking of making and selling more of it.

They didn’t say much in response, still tasting their own desserts, but you could feel their appreciation, their understanding, in the quiet way they accepted it.

The rest of the bakery was alive with the smell of freshly baked treats: rich brownies, soft sugar cookies, fluffy cronuts, and delicate eclairs. Tres leches cakes sat next to pumpkin pies, while apple and custard empanadas filled the air with their sweet, warm scent. Cheesecakes, cardamom rolls, strawberry lamingtons—the selection was almost overwhelming, but everything sold well. Especially the bear claw pastries. You smiled softly to yourself at the irony. The bearclaw pastries might also be your new favorite, right alongside the focaccia.

Johnny noticed it immediately, the little twitch of your lips, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny, bonnie?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. “Oh, nothing. Just… the bear claws. They’ve been selling really well lately. Thought it was… fitting.”

Simon’s eyes flicked to you, then to the bear claw pastries sitting neatly in a display case. A slow understanding crossed his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Just a slight nod, the corner of his mouth twitching, the silent acknowledgment of the truth that you all shared. You had no doubt the others knew about it as well- maybe even had a hand in it. Such incredible men.

And for the first time, standing in your bakery, surrounded by warmth and the quiet camaraderie of the men you had come to trust, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The past was behind you. Now, you had a future to look forward to—one filled with new beginnings, layers to unfold like a mille-feuille crepe cake, and the quiet reassurance that you were no longer alone.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” you said, raising your cup of coffee, your smile bright and genuine.

The boys raised their cups in return, their expressions soft but full of unspoken promises. “To new beginnings,” they echoed, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. Especially because you could see the way they were looking at you.

masterpost

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid, the house is white and the lawn is dead ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You stood firm on the ground, eyes stern and unwavering. In front of you was a place all too familiar—the "shelter" where you grew up, the house that had been your home for five years of your childhood. As you stood there, memories flooded your mind, both the happy ones and the melancholy ones. Your eyes roamed around the place, taking in every detail before you finally decided to enter, lest anyone mistake you for some kind of lunatic loitering outside someone's house.

As your feet mindlessly carried you into the room, a heavy, shaky sigh escaped your quivering lips. It hadn't even been five seconds since you entered, yet you already felt the urge to cry. Oh well, that's what memories do to you. You gently caressed the dirty white wall adorned with your old, fading doodles. Most of them were pink—your favorite color then and even now as an adult. You smiled sadly as the memories of your time in the house flooded back, making you nostalgic. You scoffed sarcastically at the irony that you missed this place more than the manor where you'd spent a longer time.

Perhaps it was because the old you—the innocent, sweet, and pure one—was still within these thin walls that had sheltered them through all the bad times. You could feel their giggles and laughter lingering in the air. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at every sticker, doodle, and writing spread across the walls. Somehow, you cried out of joy, relishing the fact that the child you left behind in this house was still here in some way. Still innocent, still unaware of the harm the world could do.

In the manor, all the love you ever knew came from the man who introduced himself as the family butler but whom you soon came to know as your father. He was the love you craved and begged for at Bruce's feet. He fed you, took care of you, and taught you the things you needed to know. He attended family days, PTA meetings, and other events that your biological father should have been at. Under Alfred's shelter, you did everything you could to try to level with your siblings' talents—learning acrobatics, martial arts, drawing, baking, and more.

Yet it was Alfred who, in the dead of night, under the whispers of the cold wind whipping past your teary face, assured you that you would never need any of those skills to truly earn your family's love. All you needed was to be yourself. You allowed yourself to believe his words and lived them as your truth for a short time, but soon gave up on the idea, accepting that they wouldn't truly see you.

Now, dwelling on your lingering past and memories outside the manor, you remembered those you knew before coming to live with them. You reminisced on the thought of your mother. You remembered her.

You remembered how poverty ate your mother away and that she couldn't provide necessary needs for you but you, sweet, beautiful, angel you never complained.

You remembered how much you loved those barbie shows and movies but couldn't afford the dvds and even a proper functioning television so you sometimes watched it from your window across your neighbors, and while watching you saw a glimpse of their life. Their happy, perfect family life. How they cuddled their daughter and watched those silly barbie movies together. Your eyes softened as you thought "I wanted that" the little you hoped that maybe one day momma will get better and finally love me. Your tears poured from your eyes at the thought.

You remembered while you were doing your homework alone, you heard a whimper outside your window near the alley. As you peeked your tiny head outside, your braids flowing with the cold, harsh wind, your eyes searching for the source of noise. As you let your gaze travel through every corner of the alley, you saw a dirty, poor puppy whimpering, alone, calling out for its mother, its father, anyone. You ran hastily outside and collected its tiny and fragile form gently in your arms. "I'm here, I'm okay, you're safe," you whispered softly to the creature. And from. That very day you fed it and kept it sheltered secretly from your mother. You named her Amara. It suited her. You didn't have much play mates so you sometimes play with her by the yard where you and her would either run together or lay down. You never really got to say goodbye to her. From "that" moment on, you never got to go back to your house. You wondered how she was. Was she well fed? Did she think you abandoned her? Does she miss you? The guilt of living her ate you up the longer you dwelt on the past. You shook your head and sighed, trying to forget about all of it. You mourned every version of you. And this was your most treasured one. Thinking back on all the memories you had of the old you, of her. You thanked them for being so forgiving, for being so brave, for being so content with what she had, and for never trading anything for it.

They Were such a kind soul. And you're glad that they gets to stay where they were the happiest despite the nightmare they endured those days. You will always look up to them. They were and will always be a part of you. You took one last look at the house, the drawings, the dirty corners of the room, and released a breath as you closed your eyes. This was it. You'll finally get to say goodbye-

Whimper

You froze as you heard a familiar whimper. You turned around and slowly walked towards the opened door, and you saw her. Amara, your friend. You can't help but let the tears fall as her once brown fluffy appearance is now old and grey. You wondered how even in the light of old age she somehow still seems so youthful. She was still your baby. With a shaky voice, you tested the name. "Amara...?" she wags her tail in delight as a response to the familiar name she's been waiting to be called for so many years. You kneeled down and gently caressed her. "Oh, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she whimpered as if answering you. You noticed her trying to catch her breath and her body growing weaker. You glance at her tail and see its wagging has become more frail and slow. You glance at your eyes, and you know. You smiled at her and whispered, "It's okay, baby. You can rest now." Her face weakly lit up, and she slowly closed her eyes, calm and loved, finally in your embrace.

After some time, you tenderly wrapped her body in a blanket. You carried her to the yard where you both used to play together as kids, a place where you ran freely without a care in the world. Borrowing a shovel from a tenant in the apartment, you buried her there, in the spot where you both were the happiest.

You whispered silent prayers for your companion and left with the memories. This was it. You've made your peace with the old you. Almost. There was one more thing you have to do.

You used believed that your mother could have been so much more. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, even if other would beg to disagree. But, you knew that she knew how to play her cards right to get what she desired for. She would have been so powerful if she used her sharp mind to something much more.. Productive. Yet she chose to sleep with men, abandon her daughter, and let herself be eaten by poverty and lust. Well, you didn't really mind if she abandoned you. You've always felt like you were the burden, the barrier to her way of succeeding and the chain locked onto her feet, keeping her from truly running away to what she has become. You've seen it in her eyes, the thought of running away and living a new life, but when she looks at you.. She saw a mistake she could never be freed of. A mistake. If only you weren't born, she would have been so happy.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink. "Ma'am?" the nurse asked. Suddenly, you were back to reality. You blinked again, processing her words. You glanced at her expectant expression and blurted out, "Y-yes, yes, uhm. Yeah. I'm ready." She smiled and said, "Great. Let's go this way, ma'am." You followed her hurriedly, not wanting to test her patience. As you walked, dissociating and thinking of all the possible outcomes, the nurse suddenly stopped in front of a room and said, "We're here. You can enter now." You nodded and thanked her silently.

Facing the door, you chanted in your mind, "You can do this," with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and opened the door. There she was—your mother, in all her glory. Bare-faced and vulnerable in her comfy hospital gown. You almost choked on your saliva, seeing her this... bare. You had always seen her so filtered, her face adorned with colors, her clothes tight and bright. Awkwardly, you shifted in your place and slowly sat beside her bed as her gaze followed your every move. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but she beat you to it.

“I know you.” you widen your eyes at her as she continues “you're my child.” you weren't shocked at the fact that she acknowledged you but the fact that she called you Her child, and the softness in her eyes. You were starting to think that maybe this isn't your mother, because she never looked at you like that. Never in years of living together has she even glance at you.

She chuckled at the sight of your confused and shocked state, bringing you out of your thoughts. "What? Shocked? Of course, I still remember you, Y/n," she weakly said, her voice small and quite different from the harsh tone she used to yell at you with. You inhaled sharply, trying to stop your tears from falling. What the heck? Were you about to cry again?

"I thought with how much resentment you harbor for me, you would have forgotten about me by now," you smiled sadly at her, watching her face drop slightly but still smiling weakly.

"Oh, Y/n," you almost crumbled right then and there. Oh, how much you had longed to be called so sweetly by your mother's voice. "I never hated you... that much," she said bitterly, and you stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I just wasn't born to be a mother, no—at least not in this life. I'm a mess and I always will be. And I'm sorry I couldn't change for you because nothing can and nothing will change me anymore."

Your lips frowned at her words. "I always thought that maybe you could have been better without me," you said. You miss her, and you will always miss her. She was your whole world, but now seeing her and talking to her made you realize her world was clearly much different from yours. Her world was something one could not escape. You knew you couldn't live like that, and it seems that she cannot live any other way. They said that a mother and children exist as wretched mirrors of each other. You were all she could have been and she was all you might have been.

She closed the distance between you and embraced you for the first time. "You never were. It was me. I was the problem. You were just a child. In another life, I would've been able to care for you." You didn't question her on why she couldn't do it in this life because you knew. You knew she didn't have the capability to be a good mother and a morally good person now, and that was okay. You couldn't live with The fact that she will never truly care for you and will always hold secret animosity towards you if you force her to be a mother to you. You closed your eyes for a minute and silently took in the feeling of a mother's embrace for the first and last time.

"This is the last time you're ever gonna see me again," you said. Your mother chuckled bitterly and replied, "I know. Good for you, kid. Leave everything behind and start anew. You deserve it."

You soon moved out of her arms and held her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. With a deep exhale, you walked out of the hospital. This was it—you were finally free from your past. You had made your peace with it, and now it was time for you to move forward. You knew that if you didn't confront the horrors of your past, they would haunt you for the rest of your life. You had made a good choice.

As you stepped outside, the cool breeze greeted you, and you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was as if the universe itself was acknowledging your newfound freedom. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, savoring the feeling of lightness that now enveloped you. Walking down the street, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city seemed different somehow—brighter, more alive. You noticed the little things that you had overlooked before: the vibrant colors of the flowers in the park, the laughter of children playing, the distant hum of traffic. It was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the weight of your past.

For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace. The past no longer held you captive. You were free to live your life, to pursue your passions, and to surround yourself with people who truly cared for you. It was the beginning of a new chapter. You get home to your apartment and sit at your couch grabbing some blankets and making hot cocoa. You thought to yourself that this is what you exactly needed. Watching barbie movies in your new cozy apartment without any burden past onto your shoulders, the little you would have been so proud, making you smile at the thought. This was it. Nothing was going to stop you now.

That's what you thought.

It has been 2 weeks since you've moved in your apartment and you're getting ready for your ballet rehearsal. You were especially excited about this as you were going to perform swan lake when you got to enact one of the most important and famous characters, how cool was that? As you were about to grab your pink bowed pointe shoes a sudden “ping!” notification was heard from your phone. You turned your head and went to grab it expecting a message from one of your close friends or even your ballet mates but all you were met with was a message from a person you least wanted a one from.

Dick. Your supposed older brother is asking you to hang out with him. At this very moment. You dropped your phone and stared at nothing while breathing heavily. You feel your heartbeat rapidly breathing, the knot in your stomach growing more tighter and tighter each minute you let the thought sink into your brain. You almost tripped at your foot as a result of your vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to happen. When-how?-why?! Why was this happening now? You were only starting to feel like everything in your life was finally starting to go your way. Why did this have to happen? It was as if the universe was mocking you. You bit your lips until it bled but you couldn't care less. You were numb. You hadn't even realized that you were nowate for today's rehearsals. With trembling hands you reached for your phone and shakily pressed the button “block” as you silently prayed that he-they would never come in contact with you ever again.

Of Course that wouldn't happen though. The universe was never really on your side.

Dick? What's happening here?

A sudden deep voice spoke, bringing Dick out of his deep trance. He turned around and saw his father standing outside the door, looking suspiciously at him. He stared at his father and saw the look on his face—full of confusion and unfamiliarity, not towards him but the room he was in. "I-it's Y/n," he stuttered, the name tasting so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to roll around in the scent of you. Was that weird? No—he just missed you, that's all.

"What about them?" Bruce's voice carried a nonchalance that almost made Dick angry. How could he be so indifferent about his precious sibling? With a hard voice, Dick replied, "They're gone." Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the response. What did he mean you were gone? You were just here when... Wait, when? He worriedly glanced at Dick, and as if understanding, Dick answered, "I know."

Bruce inhaled sharply and stepped inside the room, your lingering scent greeting him. Your trophies adorned the walls. This was your room? No, it couldn't be. This was too little. This was just... not it. The difference between his other childrens bedrooms and yours was so noticeable. You didn't have any fancy chandelier decorating yours. You didn't have your own bathroom.

Bruce's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The neatly arranged trophies, the faded posters on the walls, and the small bed that seemed too empty now. He walked over to the desk and picked up a framed photo of you, when was this? You look so.. Grown? How old were you? Were you old enough to live alone? How come he didn't know? Did you have a job-were you even allowed to have one? he clenches his fist as he stares at the sight of your image and sees your bright smile. His heart ached at the sight. How had he missed this? How had he not noticed the signs?

Dick watched his father, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to scream, to demand why Bruce hadn't paid more attention, why he hadn't been there for you. But he knew he wasn't any better than his adoptive father was. Besides, it wouldn't change anything. The damage was done.

Bruce set the photo back down and turned to Dick, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He saw the tiny diary and other papers scattered across the floor and picked them up, reading them one by one as he slowly spiraled into regret and guilt. Dick watched as he knew this was going to make him understand. Today made it all clear to him. Why there was a nagging feeling inside of him saying that there was something missing in the manor. It was why the sweet muffled music of the orchestra haunted the manor, the same kind of music haunting their bedroom. Like it was a reminder, a warning. That something special was lost. The soothing sound of humming, light footsteps around the manor now gone. The pink bows tied around the handles of the stairs, the love that the plants receive now nowhere to be found. It was because you took that love with you.

"We need to find them," Bruce spoke, his voice steady but filled with urgency. His knees bounce as his Jaws tighten anxiously.

Dick nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "We'll find them," he replied, his voice firm. "And we'll make things right."

As they left the room, Bruce carrying the framed image of you tightly, almost as if he was paranoid that something would take it from him, and dick gently running his thumb through the texture of your pink, bowed, bright diary, the weight of their mission settled on their shoulders. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to bring you back. The silence of the manor was a stark reminder of what they had lost, and they were ready to do whatever it took to make amends.

Bruce was anxious. He didn't have a plan. Ironic, because Batman always had a plan. It was an unspoken rule—Batman was always prepared. But now, he found himself at a loss, his mind racing with uncertainty. Perhaps it was because he knew every single person in Gotham. As the guardian of Lady Gotham, he prided himself on understanding the intricate web of connections and motives that defined the city's inhabitants. He calculated every person's actions, paid attention to every detail, and watched from the heart of Gotham.

He paid extensive attention to everyone... except you.

It wasn't intentional. He had always been consumed by the weight of his responsibilities, the never-ending battle against crime, and the need to protect the city. But now, standing in your room, surrounded by the remnants of your presence, he realized his failure. The irony of it all struck him—Batman, the meticulous planner, had overlooked the most important person in his life.

Now he was desperate, he may not have a plan but he was desperate. He'll do anything to get you back. Any possible way to get back all the times he failed you, when he failed to be a father to you. He swore to protect you and never let you out of his sight ever again.

Dick wasn't any better. As he walked, his thoughts played tricks on him, but in a way he almost relished. His mind insisted that you must be so scared without him, without your older brother to protect you. He didn't even consider the possibility that you could be an independent, fully functioning individual on your own, or the fact that you had grown and most likely abandoned the thought of "bonding" with him. In this moment, his mind was consumed by the image of you and the curiosity of what more you had within yourself that he had neglected. His anxiousness grew, causing him to bite his nails and run his hands through his hair in frustration. His breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was as if he had turned feral, his bloodshot blue eyes itching to be blessed with a vision of your face.

The more he thought about it, the more his mind played tricks on him. He imagined you scared and alone, wondering why your older brother wasn't there to protect you. He couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of his neglect. His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. What if you were hurt? What if you were in danger? What if you had given up on ever reconnecting with him?

The guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had missed so many opportunities to be there for you. His heart ached at the thought of all the moments you had spent alone, craving the attention and love that he hadn't given.

As he continued to walk, his thoughts became more erratic. He imagined you thriving without him, having found your own path and your own sense of independence. The possibility that you no longer needed him stung, but it also filled him with a strange sense of pride. You had grown, despite everything, and that was something to be admired.

Still, his mind couldn't rest. He needed to see you, to know that you were okay. The uncertainty was driving him to the brink of madness. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, determined to find you and make amends.

he wouldn't rest until he saw you again.

Both Bruce and Dick disregarded everything around them, unaware of the curious look Tim gave them. He followed quietly behind their backs, raising an eyebrow as he wondered why they hadn't noticed his presence yet. Normally, these two were incredibly guarded, so Tim was shocked by their lack of awareness. What could have made them so unfocused?

Bruce—the Batman—and Dick—the first Robin and now Nightwing—were both engrossed in a particular object. They seemed to be completely absorbed, their usual vigilance overshadowed by their intense fixation. Tim watched as Bruce's eyes remained glued to a framed photo on the desk, his expression a mix of regret and determination. Meanwhile, Dick's gaze was fixed on the pink notebook in his hands, his fingers gently tracing the glittery cover.

Tim couldn't help but wonder what was so important about these items that it made two of the most vigilant people he knew drop their guard. The framed photo of you, smiling brightly, seemed to hold Bruce in a trance, while the pink notebook, adorned with bows and glitters, seemed to capture all of Dick's attention. They were so consumed by these objects that they had let down the walls they had built through years of vigilantism.

It had to be something incredibly significant—something better yet, special.

“What are you two doing?” asked Tim, suddenly breaking the silence between the three of them as he watched the father and son duo flinch, obviously flabbergasted at his sudden interruption at their deep trance. He observed as their face turned from shock to going back to their frowning faces making him mirror the same expression. Dick clenches his jaw and exhales sharply preparing himself to speak when he is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice he would always recognize.

"What is going on here?" a figure with deep forest-green eyes asked, standing tall in the shadows, his cold demeanor unwavering. Dick's eyes met his, and he said his name. "Damian. Wha—"

"You have deliberately abandoned your promise to train with me today. Why?" Damian's voice was sharp, full of accusation. Shoot. That was right. Dick had forgotten to train with his younger brother today. But it didn't matter now; his other sibling needed him, and it was about time they knew about them too. He glanced at Bruce's unfocused state, feral and restless.

"It's about Y/n," Dick said firmly.

Tim stood still for a moment, trying to figure out who "Y/n" was, while Damian immediately sneered at the mention of his "rival." He couldn't pinpoint why your presence angered him so much. Maybe it was because he had to share the title of being the Wayne heir with someone so... normal, someone so far below his level. You both were so different. Perhaps he was jealous of you for being so normal, for not having to worry about tainting your hands with blood and painting others black and blue. What did you even do? He didn't know, but he bet it was something a normal civilian would.

Meanwhile, his peripheral vision caught Tim standing still, deep in thought. Damian saw him processing quickly, his mind running fast as he tried to figure out who you were and why you were so relevant at the moment. Then suddenly—aha! Tim remembered now! You were the kid who had pestered him non-stop about some game.

Tim's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. The realization hit him like a wave. He had been so dismissive back then, but now he understood the significance. Guilt washed over him, mixing with curiosity and concern. What had happened to you? Why were you so important now?

Damian's sneer softened slightly, replaced with a look of contemplation. “What about them?” asked damian. While Tim wondered the same. Suddenly Bruce's cold and deep voice said “they're gone.” Damian raising an eyebrow of his response, and Tim answering “gone? Gone how?” switching his gaze from dick and Bruce's form awaiting for one of them to answer his question as the tension in the room thickens. “I mean that they're gone. All their things not found in their room, no trace of them not in the mansion, and not even a goodbye.” Tim and Damian frowned at the same time. Damian scoffed and thought you were probably just making a big scene so the attention would be on you. Bruce said “we need to find them. Now.” his voice left no choice for them to abide by his command.

Now alone in the CCTV room, Tim let his bored gaze wander over the footage from a long time ago, his palm supporting his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He watched as you sat, his fingers tapping the keyboard to increase the volume. You hummed lightly at the footage, a simple gesture but not to him. Your voice was so familiar to him. His eyes dilated as you continued humming, your voice sweet as honey, as light as a mother's touch trying to lull her baby to sleep.

He zoomed the footage closer and closer, almost as if he wanted to go through the screen just to hear your sweet, angelic, melancholic voice. Your voice was like a soft fur blanket to him. He didn't know if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he swore you were covered by a soft light, hugging your form and kissing your skin gently.

Tim sat in your "presence" for a bit, soaking in your voice. As he listened, memories flooded back. He recalled distant muffled sounds within the thin walls, lulling him to sleep, chasing away the demons that kept him awake at night. He had so desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, and he remembered thinking maybe it was just a voice in his head, or maybe a real-life angel offering him salvation from suffering and the sweet pleasure of sleep. Now he knew, the angel was called "Y/n."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer, his breathing steadying as he watched the footage. The realization hit him hard. How had he missed this before? How had he not recognized that comforting voice? The gentle humming, the presence that had brought him solace on sleepless nights—it was all you.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch, his heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. He remembered the nights he had spent tormented by nightmares, the countless times he had struggled to find peace. Your voice had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen the importance of your presence in the manor? Tim's thoughts spiraled as he recalled the moments he had dismissed you, the times he had been too wrapped up in his own world to notice you reaching out. He needed to see you. To hear your voice, to take you back, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness as his forehead kisses the cold, dirty floor, or to maybe steal you back without a word. He didn't know, he just had to see you.

The footage continued to play, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind. He sat there, never unwavering, always in awe of your voice and never taking his attention off you. He sat there,Unaware that he had been playing the same footage for hours and hours. His dilated eyes worshipping you as if you were a god.

He felt a deep sense of loss, realizing that you were gone, and he hadn't even had the chance to thank you for all the nights you had unknowingly saved him. Determined, he knew he had to find you. He had to make things right.

After some time, finally. Tim's resolve hardened as he stood up, his eyes never leaving the screen. He would find you, and he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him. With renewed purpose, he left the CCTV room, ready to join Bruce and Dick in their search. Together, they would bring you back and rebuild the bond that had been neglected for far too long.

With much focus on the object of his obsession attention, he failed to notice a tall figure in the shadows, watchin. Thinking after all these years they have finally come to their senses, realizing the greatest gift of all was right under their noses.

Damian was a dangerous person. To be fair, he was raised to be an assassin and an heir to the throne from the moment he was born. Not even a moment out of the womb did he catch a glimpse of the normal life he so desperately wanted. He trained day and night, month after month, year after year, to become the perfect product of the world's greatest detective and the daughter of the king of assassins. Imagine the inner turmoil within him when he didn't meet the expectations set upon his shoulders. All his life, all he knew was to fight. In any situation, his first instinct was to fight and guard himself for his life.

Sometimes, he wondered how they expected a child to lead thousands of assassins to create a bloodbath. Behind his pride and arrogance was a deep-seated anger towards those in charge of his fate. He was furious that his innocence had been stripped away, clawing its way back to him, but ultimately, they succeeded in giving him a future burdened with the weight of guilt for painting the young and innocent red.

Damian's upbringing left him with a constant battle within himself. The expectations placed upon him were immense, and he often felt like he was suffocating under the pressure. The relentless training, the unyielding discipline, and the need to prove himself consumed his every waking moment. The anger he felt was not just directed at those who shaped his fate but also at himself for not being able to escape it. Many didn't know of it but he found it hard to be Robin. The conflict between leaning to your instincts or “your- now- morals” was hard. To kill and to save was wrong and somehow to save and to forgive was right.

Despite his impressive skills and abilities, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something normal. He envied those who lived ordinary lives, free from the burden of bloodshed and violence. He wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood filled with laughter and innocence rather than combat and survival. As to why he wonders what more could you possibly want? He was so sure that you had so much wonderful time living such a luxurious life in the manor and never having to prove yourself to be worthy of something in being able to get the object of your desire. How could you run away from this life? From your life? You were so unfair, so selfish.

As he continued to grapple with these conflicting emotions, Damian's exterior remained cold and guarded. He rarely allowed anyone to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that yearned for a different life. But deep down, the scars of his past lingered, a constant reminder of the life he was forced into and the innocence that was stolen from him.

He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and released a heavy sigh. What a bother. Making his way to every corner of the manor to "inspect" and see if you had left any trace of yourself there. As he walked down the path, letting his bored state guide him, he glanced at the thick walls and noticed some unfamiliar works of art. His gaze roamed around the room, settling on various paintings he had never noticed before. It was as if the paintings spoke for themselves, screaming out for anyone to notice and appreciate them. The different textures, colors, shapes, and stories behind the art captivated him.

Damian liked to think that he noticed everything and had the ability to be highly aware of his surroundings, whether he was familiar with them or not. But at this moment, he paused, questioning himself. If he was truly aware, how had he managed to overlook these breathtaking canvases filled with bright colors that made him... feel things? He took a step forward and saw a tiny signature on the left side of one of the canvases. He brought his hand up to softly caress the painting, gently and carefully, as if he were afraid that a mere touch could destroy it.

Engrossed in admiring the paintings, he failed to notice the tall figure beside him. It was only when the man spoke, "Master Damian," addressing him, that he flinched slightly.

"Ah, Alfred. My apologies, I was a bit distracted by the art adorning the walls, which seems to be... unfamiliar to me. Would you mind telling me where my father keeps buying these paintings? I must say I'm quite... impressed."

Alfred frowned and smiled sadly at the youngest Wayne. "Well, Master Damian, these paintings are actually not your father's doing. Rather, they are Master Y/n's work of art."

Damian's eyes widened in surprise. He turned back to the paintings and said "Y/n did these?" he asked, almost incredulous. The realization that you had created such beautiful and meaningful art struck him deeply. He didn't even know that you could draw much less create such.. Beautiful art. While he was thinking about it he realize that he had complimented you, you!

"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred confirmed. "Y/n spent countless hours creating these pieces. Each one holds a story, a piece of their heart."

Damian felt a pang of emotion through his chest, he couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was somehow nagging him about something, or rather someone. His fingers traced the brushstrokes with a newfound reverence, as if trying to understand the emotions you had captured on canvas.

"I never knew..." Damian whispered, more to himself than to Alfred. The layers of vibrant colors, the delicate details, and the raw emotions conveyed through your art were all a testament to the depth of your soul. He felt a connection to you that he hadn't realized before, a sense of camaraderie and understanding. And he was totally not dissing you just minutes ago.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder. "Art has a way of speaking to us, Master Damian. It reveals truths that words often cannot. Y/n's art is a reflection of their experiences, their joys, and their sorrows. It is a part of them that they have shared with the world."

Damian nodded, taking a step back to fully appreciate the entirety of your work. Your art had opened a door to a deeper connection, and he was willing to walk through it. He didn't know why but in a way this was proof that you had always had some kind of connection to him.

As Damian and Alfred stood there, surrounded by the masterpieces you had created, a sense of resolve settled over Damian. He frowns and takes a look around all the work of your art. His style doesn't differ much from yours. the caress of brush ever so slightly seen, and the emotions behind the soul of your paintings, like his. What made you so similar to him? And that, he will not know until he finds you.

He knew that finding you and bringing you back was not just about making amends—it was about recognizing and celebrating the unique and irreplaceable person you were.

Y/n considered themselves a keen observer, attuned to the delicate nuances of the world around them. They noticed the gentle yet sometimes harsh swaying of the wind as it danced with the leaves, creating a symphony of nature's whispers. They noticed the lady sitting on the park bench, quietly absorbing the view of the home she once grew up in, her memories interwoven with the present. They noticed the ducks by the pond, gracefully gliding through the water alongside their mother, a portrait of serene tranquility.

Y/n noticed everything, yet no one noticed them. And it was fine. They had long accepted this reality, enduring the loneliness of being invisible in a world where they saw so much. The weight of being unnoticed had become a familiar companion, a constant presence that shaped their existence. In the silent spaces between moments, Y/n found solace in their observations, finding beauty in the overlooked and meaning in the mundane.

So why were they just noticing you just now? Why? When you have just started to accept and move on. Why must they bring the horrors of the past when your current life is filled with hope arraying a new journey, now destroyed.

Why couldn’t Dick just let you be, drifting away in the silence you’d crafted? Why couldn’t he leave you to fade quietly, just as you had promised yourself you would, a ghost of your former self, untouched and unbothered? Yet there he was, an ever-present weight, his hands—rough, calloused, scarred by years of untold burdens—forcing your face into the past, as if his touch could rewrite history. His fingers dug into your skin, twisted into the soft contours of your face, tearing through the years of numbness, of denial, dragging you back to a place you had sworn you’d never return.

And then, Tim. Oh, Tim. The boy who once didn’t even see you, who barely even remembered your name when it lingered in the air of the manor. Now, he’s relentless, his fingers tapping into your phone with the same quiet insistence that his presence once had in the dark halls of that place you used to call home. You want to scream, to rip the silence apart, to do anything but feel what you’re feeling now—this suffocating pull to return to them, to face them, even when you know you never should have to again.

The ache swells, the lump in your throat is a tangible thing now, a choking presence you can’t swallow down. It’s the same searing pain that’s lingered, festering, hidden beneath layers of what you pretended was healing. How cruel it is, to have spent so much time trying to break free, only to find that some things, some people, are never quite done with you.

The ghost of them lingers, burrows deeper, with every unanswered message. They still haunt you, even from afar. You hate them for it, for still holding the power to break you open, to make you bleed from places you thought had long scarred over. It feels like a thousand wounds opening up again—slow, deliberate, bleeding you dry in a way you don’t know how to stop.

You stared blankly into the emptiness, feeling numb, when suddenly a hand rested on your shoulder. You flinched instinctively and turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened as you recognized your ballet teacher standing behind you. "Miss Kavinsky! I-I... Hi! I’m—" you stammered, but she quickly cut you off with a smile.

"Y/N L/N-Wayne, I know," she said with a warm tone. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."

You winced slightly, the sound barely audible, but Miss Kavinsky didn’t seem to notice. "Come on, let’s meet the other dancers. I’m sure they’re eager to meet you."

The surprise hit you hard, and you stuttered, "M-me?" You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

She grinned, a playful mix of amusement and mild disbelief on her face. "Yes, you. You're kind of a celebrity here, Wayne. Not surprised with a talent like yours."

Her words lingered in the air, but you went quiet, caught off guard by the compliment. You couldn’t fully process it, the idea of anyone looking up to you seemed so foreign, so distant. And somewhere in the haze, you barely registered the way she had called you "Wayne.”

As you and the other dancers gathered at the stage, a wave of anxiety washed over you. The weight of thoughts about Tim and Dick pressed heavily on your mind, and the pressure of the moment only made it worse. Just as your mind started to spiral, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey! You're Y/N, right? I'm Desiree, but you can just call me Des."

You forced a smile, barely hearing Miss Kavinsky as her voice faded into the background, announcing something about attendance. Your attention was now solely focused on Des, who had just broken the ice. You shook her hand and smiled more genuinely, the tension in your body loosening up a bit.

"Hi, Des. Yeah, you already know who I am. Nice to meet you."

You both exchanged a quiet laugh, and the chatter around you faded as you continued talking. For a moment, you felt like you could breathe again. You asked the usual questions: "How old are you?" "What's your favorite ballet?" The conversation flowed easily, but when your name was suddenly called for attendance, you were snapped back to reality.

"Here!" you called out, your voice getting lost in the sea of dancers.

But then Des said something that made you freeze.

"So, are you excited that both of you are here?" she asked with a playful giggle, her smile sweet and innocent.

You blinked, confused, but smiled through it. "Both of us...?" you repeated, trying to follow along.

Des chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. "You and your sister, silly! It must be so nice to perform together. My brother wouldn't even try to get into ballet, you know?"

Her words, lighthearted as they were, suddenly made your world feel like it was crashing down around you. You felt a cold panic begin to rise. Your fingers instinctively dug into your palms, almost drawing blood. Your smile wavered, barely holding on, while your eyes fluttered, teetering on the edge of tears. Des’s voice became distant, her words fading into a muffled blur as your thoughts spiraled out of control, bloodshot eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your heart raced, and the chaos inside you was too much to contain.

In that very moment, her name echoed through the air, sharp and clear. Without thinking, your gaze shifted, and you locked eyes with her. Her wide, unblinking stare pierced through the noise, anchoring you in place. For a fleeting second, you wondered if she had been watching you all along—since the instant your name was called, or perhaps even before. You couldn't be sure.

What you did know, however, was that the weight of her gaze felt like a force, pulling you into a quiet abyss. It made you feel small, fragile—as if you were prey beneath the steady, unyielding gaze of a predator. A shiver ran through you, and suddenly, all you wanted was to escape, to flee from the suffocating intensity of her eyes, which seemed to strip away every layer of protection you had left.

The fates were clearly playing with you now.

Cassandra was an exceptionally gifted individual, much like her siblings, each of whom possessed their own unique abilities. From the moment she first pursued ballet, her family showered her with unwavering love and support. She had access to training that most could only dream of—privileges afforded to her not because of her wealth, but because she was no ordinary person. She was Batgirl, the daughter of Batman by choice, a mantle she wore with pride. So, when an invitation arrived for her to join the prestigious Swan Lake performance alongside other top-tier dancers, it hardly came as a surprise. After all, excellence was something she had always embraced, both on the stage and off.

As she gets ready for her first rehearsal she can't help but notice that some of her siblings are missing. She shook it off and ate her food but also not abandoning the thought of asking about the absence of her siblings and father, to a familiar companion of their family:Alfred. As where Alfred only replies with them being busy about.. Something, yet said to her to fret not and just worry her mind about her ballet play, quickly chasing away her concerns for her family with a smile that made her feel lighthearted. With a chuckle she got up and made her way to the location of where the dancers were told to meet.

Cass had always believed she was the only one in her family who truly appreciated the delicate artistry of ballet. Her passion for the graceful movements, the precision of each step, and the beauty of the performances had always felt like a private world to her, a world she inhabited alone. She couldn’t recall a single moment where anyone in her family shared even the slightest interest in it. So, when she entered the crowded theater that evening, expecting to be surrounded only by fellow ballet enthusiasts, she was taken aback by something unexpected.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted you. For a fleeting moment, her heart skipped a beat, not from the rush of seeing someone in the crowd, but from an overwhelming sense of familiarity that washed over her. There you were, standing like a ghost from a forgotten past, an unexplainable connection sparking between you both. Cass couldn’t place it, but it was as though she had known you forever, even though your paths had never crossed before.

Her mind wandered, replaying the memories that had been buried deep within her. A distant image flashed across her thoughts: she was standing in a room filled with soft, pastel-colored fabrics, the scent of leather and polish hanging in the air. Two pairs of pointe shoes rested beside one another on the floor—one was familiar, worn and well-loved, the other brand new, the laces still fresh and untangled. The second pair, the one that felt entirely foreign, immediately piqued her curiosity. She was certain it wasn’t hers, yet the connection to it lingered, something so subtle but undeniable.

The realization hit her like a wave. She didn’t know you, not consciously, but somehow she felt bound to you, as if fate had woven your lives together in some strange, invisible thread long before either of you had even been aware of it.

The entire day she watched and observed you. She paid extra attention to every detail of your expressions, body language, and posture. She didn't know why but you seemed to be very clear–in her case, in distress, like you were panicking over something. And she didn't know why she somehow hated seeing you that way. As the minutes passed, she found herself simply just staring at you. Not even for a fleeting moment had she taken her gaze of you. She watched and observed tensely at every person who looks at you, who talks to you, who breathes near you. Almost as if she was guarding you. As they were told to gather she followed silently after the crowd and placed herself purposely in front of the other side from you. She scoffs in amusement as you barely notice her, too focused on your own little world. As minutes continued to pass, suddenly a girl broke you out of her thoughts with her voice making you flinch. Her breath hitched as irritation started to crawl their way through her chest. Why couldn't the girl be more gentle with you? Can't she see that you were clearly stressed? She frowns slightly at the girl, surprising herself by the sudden change of mood. She holds her breath and watches you like a hawk would at its prey. Her vision was filled with your now loosen frame, giggling with the girl who approached you earlier. A new feeling started to claw its way through her chest, now bigger and stronger. The green monster eating her up when suddenly the call of her voice brought her out of her thoughts as she, for a moment took her eyes off of you to answer quietly to her name and as she bring back her gaze to you, quickly to not miss anything she might take the pleasure in seeing, suddenly your eyes are on her too. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of your gaze who held such horror in them, as if seeing her was too much for you. As she was your living nightmare sitting right in front of you.

The remaining time the dancers practiced, you avoided her gaze and her presence. The more you avoided her, the more she itched to be in your presence alone, to be near you. The whole time at the practice she was, for the first time, distracted. Her thoughts are consumed by you. Her thoughts came up with every question she could ask about her and your current situation. What were you doing here? Why didn't she know? Were you at the manor? No, if you were she would've known.. Right? Okay if you weren't, then why weren't you? Those questions alone made her uneasy and frustrated. As it was time to go home, she watched as you hurriedly got out and quickly went home to wherever your home was. The nagging feeling screamed at her to follow you but decided against it and thought that going home and bringing the news to her family might help more. After all, they were stronger together.

She stormed into the manor, urgency in her every step, and sought out Alfred with a single, breathless demand: "Boys. Where?" Without hesitation, he led her to them. Her gaze fell upon them, intense and unyielding, her pupils trembling with an unspoken storm. She whispered a single name, a breathless, haunting utterance: "Y/N." The boys, in unison, responded, "We know."

A deep breath escaped her, the weight of their actions—venturing after you without so much as a word—forgotten for the moment. She snatched a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys in a frantic dance of their own. The screen flickered to life, revealing a video that stole the breath from the room. There you were, dancing—each movement a testament to grace, each step more captivating than the last.

The world had already fallen under your spell. The internet buzzed with adoration, praising the way your every turn, every leap, every pause held the audience in thrall. Under the stage lights, you seemed more than human—a celestial being, your form bathed in soft light, glowing like an ethereal angel, kissed by the very air around you. The boys stood frozen, their gaze fixed upon you, entranced.

Your presence was no illusion. You were a goddess of their own making, and in that moment, they knew: they were already devoted, bound by the silent understanding that they would worship you, body and soul.

As the video played, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The boys, once brimming with urgency and tension, now stood motionless, their eyes locked onto the screen, as if spellbound. Every fluid movement you made seemed to breathe life into the very air around them. They couldn’t look away; they didn’t want to. Your every step, every pirouette, was poetry in motion, a delicate balance of strength and grace that made their hearts race.

The way you arched your back mid-spin, the soft brush of your fingertips against your skin, the quiet breath you took before every leap—it all drew them in, slowly, methodically, as though they were witnessing something far beyond the ordinary. Each turn of your body mirrored the very rhythm of their own hearts, synchronized with the ethereal pulse of the music, and they couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one sacred moment.

Your eyes, though focused on the stage, seemed to flicker with a spark of something far deeper, something they couldn't quite place but could almost taste. It was like watching a dream unfold, where every movement became a metaphor—each glide across the stage spoke to something eternal, something untouchable. They found themselves lost in the elegance of your form, the way your body seemed to move with a natural fluidity that defied the laws of physics.

The lights above you softened, caressing your silhouette, painting you in a divine glow. And in that moment, they felt small, insignificant even, as if you had been carved out of stardust itself, too perfect to comprehend, yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the skill of your dance—it was your presence, your essence that held them captive.

They felt an almost primal pull, as though your every movement was speaking directly to their souls. The way your body spoke without words—your elegance and power blending seamlessly—rendered them speechless. They were entranced by the aura you carried, intoxicated by your beauty and the mystery you exuded, a beauty that wasn’t merely skin-deep but radiated from within, a force of nature.

For a fleeting moment, they could almost believe that you were more than human, that you were something higher, something divine. They stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, as if they had been granted a glimpse of something sacred—something that no one else could understand. And in that moment, they knew that they would follow you, worship you, in a devotion that transcended mere admiration. You weren’t just captivating; you were everything. They couldn't believe that someone like you had been overlooked by then.

Bruce now understands that with no plan in mind he would still follow you till the end of the earth. Oh his little baby. He would do anything to earn your love and affection for him. To see you and to bask under the ray of sunshine your smile brings. To feel your presence alone.

Dick now understands that he owes you more than a few dinners or dates as siblings. No. He owes you the world. As guilt eats his flesh up one by one, mourning all the versions of you that he could have witnessed right before his eyes are now long gone. But that's okay, he'll make it up to you.

Tim now understands that you were surely his angel. His savior. His form of salvation. He could watch you all day and never get bored. He could listen to you all day until his ears bled but never say a word.

Damian now understands that the disbelief he felt when looking at your paintings full of emotions overflowing with a sense of overwhelming feel, was now long gone because he knew that only such being like you, almost like a supernatural being, could be the only one who has the ability to capture such deep emotions in one painting, to be able to create such beautiful, breathtaking object.

Cassandra now understands why she felt like she somehow had a connection to you and that was because she was your sister. And as she was a daughter to batman by choice, that she will also be a sister by choice to you. She was an observer, someone who guards-and she will guard you with her life for all eternity.

As the overwhelming tension fills the room Alfred stands at the corner with a small smile. “apologies master y/n had I done this sooner, you would have not slipped through my grasp dear child. Do not fret for your family is coming to get you.”

Ah, Alfred, the mastermind. He knew this would happen. He just needed to intertwine a little. He did not worry because he knew. He knew that leaving your bedroom door open the moment he knew Dick was coming over to the manor while the others were busy, and knowing Dick's tendency to wander off in the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, the chances of him finding your room were high. He knew that rearranging your trophies inside your room (which you had told him to get rid of) would pique the interest of your family even more. He knew that decorating your hidden paintings around the minimalist and empty walls of the house would catch the attention of the youngest Wayne. He knew that playing those soft melodies of your voice through the small TV in the kitchen would enchant a certain sleep-deprived boy, making him miss the sweet sound of your voice.

Alfred knew that when Cassandra was called for the big ballet play, you would be at the same play too, as you had told him over the phone, giggling and excited with a high-pitched voice. He didn't bother to tell you about your sister's similar invitation, nor did he inform your sister about yours. He knew every single detail, every thread that needed to be woven together to create this intricate tapestry of reconnection.

Alfred's wisdom was like a silent symphony, orchestrating events with a delicate touch. He understood the nuances of each family member, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their desires. He knew that Dick's curiosity would lead him to your room, where the trophies would spark memories and questions. He knew that Damian's keen eye for detail would be drawn to the vibrant paintings, each brushstroke a testament to your hidden talents. He knew that Tim, in his sleep-deprived state, would be captivated by the melodies of your voice, a soothing balm to his restless mind.

Alfred's heart ached with the knowledge of your absence, but he also held hope. Hope that these carefully placed breadcrumbs would lead your family back to you, to the realization of what they had lost and the determination to make amends. He knew that the path to reconciliation was not an easy one, but it was a journey worth taking.

As the days passed, Alfred watched with a knowing smile as the pieces began to fall into place. He saw the flicker of recognition in Dick's eyes, the softening of Damian's demeanor, and the spark of determination in Tim's gaze. He knew that the seeds he had planted were beginning to grow, and soon, the family would be whole again.

Alfred was getting old and he couldn't bare the vision of his children Bruce and you, drifting away from each other, and you from him. Maybe it was his own selfish reason but he couldn't help it. He raised you from the moment you got to the manor. Teached you everything he knew and gave you all the love he could. He watched you grew up and maybe it was a moment of rush that he allowed himself to be selfish and turn the tables around.

In the quiet moments, Alfred allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought of you, the child who had brought so much light into his life. He knew that you deserved to be seen, to be cherished, and to be loved. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that you found your way back to the family that needed you just as much as you needed them.

Authors note: I'm sorry I took so long in writing this! I hope yall enjoy the 10k+ words I wrote. One tip tho is to read and observe the details very carefully! Dw I'm gonna explain it soon tho. Hope yall enjoy this cuz imma take a break after this.

[sloaneispunk]

“too sweet for me”

frontman!in-ho x you

when in-ho developed feelings for you in the games, he realised how much older he was compared to you. but age is just a number…right?

๑⋅⋯ ──── ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ──── ⋯⋅๑

after the first games, reality set in. you sat on your bed, trying to scrub the blood off your hands and face. you were practically clawing at your arms, but the blood wouldn’t come off. then, you were approached by a man. ‘player 001’ it said on the jacket.

“you’re hurting yourself like that.” the man said to you, kneeling down by your bed.

“i’m fine.” you gave him a weak smile as you stopped.

“come, let me help.” he took your hand, taking the sleeve of his jacket, gently rubbing the dry blood off of your arm as you watched.

“thank you.” you whispered.

“you’re welcome.” he looked up and smiled. “you have some here…” in-ho licked his thumb, hesitating as if he was asking for permission, when you nodded, he cleaned your cheek.

when he was done, you thanked him once more.

“what’s your name? you look awfully young.” he commented.

“y/n…” you said shyly, making his heart swell.

“i’m young-il, it was nice to meet you.” he said before he got up, but you grabbed his arm.

“wait, i uh, c-can you stay?”

in-ho looked down at you, why would you want him to stay?

“i shouldn’t, i-” then, he heard a group of rowdy boys on the other side of the room, the leader with purple hair picking on a weaker girl. “on second thought, i think i should.”

in-ho stayed with you until lights out, keeping an eye out for thanos’ group and making sure that you were safe from them.

how old were you? definitely much younger than he was, but you were so sweet, so innocent. he loved it.

the next day, in-ho hadn’t slept. he had been too caught up watching you sleep, admiring as every hair fell in place, your chest heaving with every breath you took. he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t approached you with a motive. he knew it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from going to the bathroom when everyone was asleep to jerk himself off to the thought of you.

“y/n, come, have mine. you need to eat more.” in-ho said sternly, passing you his packet of milk as he ate his breakfast with you.

“why? you should have it.” you rejected him, tossing it back to him.

“you need it more than me.”

“i’m not a kid, young-il.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him causing him to chuckle.

you weren’t. so why did he have the urge to protect you?

then, he heard the voice of gi-hun, he turned around. there his real target was. in-ho brought you along as he made his way to the group, approaching them with a friendly smile.

easily, they welcomed you both with open arms, just like how in-ho knew they would.

“so why did you pick ‘o’?” jung-bae asked, mouth stuffed full.

“oh, i just need more money to pay off my debt…” in-ho started. “… i had a wife and kid but i lost them because of my gambling habits.”

the whole atmosphere of the group fell, everyone didn’t know what to say.

you somehow felt guilty. this man was old enough to be your dad, why were you attracted to him? besides he already has a family outside this place. your heart sank, making you look down at your food as the others continued to talk.

“what about you?” you heared in-ho ask, making your head shoot up. “i’m sure your parents must be worried, why do you want to keep playing?” he pointed to the ‘o’ on your jacket.

“it’s just me.” you replied solemnly, “i don’t really have anyone waiting for me.”

you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, staring into your soul as you immediately regretted revealing that part of yourself. you mentally slapped yourself, you were being too vulnerable too quickly.

“hey, it’s okay. when we get out of here, we’ll all continue being friends!” jung-bae nudged your arm, making you smile.

“yeah! we’ll all go eat a feast when we get out!” dae-ho agreed.

in-ho didn’t like that idea, and his face didn’t even try to hide it. he didn’t like that you would hang out with anyone other than him.

‘players please proceed to the next game’

you were terrified. after knowing the stakes at hand, you knew it was suicide continuing, but you didn’t have any other choice. in-ho noticed you stiffen, he gave your arm a squeeze, letting you know that he was still there.

when you reached the second game, you learnt that it was going to be played in groups of five. luckily for everyone, your team already had five members.

you took your seats in a line on the floor, awaiting instructions. in-ho sat in front of you, still ensuring that you were sat close to him as the game commenced.

the first two teams took their places at the start line, both eager to win the games. but it was harder than anyone had thought. eventually, neither was able to complete all stations in time. you watched as they were being taken out by the guards, shot down with no remorse.

you instinctively grabbed onto in-ho as you gasped at the gnarly sight in front of you. if you didn’t get your head in the game, that would be you soon enough.

“what are you thinking about?” in-ho questioned when you had failed to answer him, lost deep in your thoughts.

“i’m scared, young-il.”

“nothing will happen to you, i promise.” he replied, ruffling your hair. “stay strong for me.”

you nodded.

when it was your turn, you could feel your legs shaking with every step you took. in-ho was the first to link your arms with his, giving you a subtle smile to calm your nerves.

as the game started, the team made their way to the first station. dae-ho picked up the ddakji, throwing it once, hard onto the ground. by some miracle, the blue envelope had flipped and everyone cheered.

at the second game, jung-bae took the stone from the guard. you shifted closer to in-ho, giving him space to aim. in-ho took the opportunity, pulling you close against him, you were everything at that moment. he could feel the warmth radiating off you, your smell filling his nostrils, making his head dizzy. he barely noticed when everyone cheered once more ehen the stone had been easily knocked down.

then, it was your turn.

“breathe.” in-ho whispered in your ear when he noticed how shaky your hands were.

to his surprise, you had managed to pass within a single try. he cheered you on louder than anyone in the team, moving on the the next game.

even as he spun the spinning top, your arm never left his. maybe it was a good luck charm, because he too was able to spin it on his first try. part of his was relieved because he didn’t embarrass himself in front of you but another was disappointed. in-ho had planned this moment out for so long, he would fail multiple times to keep gi-hun on edge. it was funny how just by having you there he had screwed up his whole plan, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it.

naturally, gi-hun had also made it without having any redo’s. everyone was estatic as they were being led out of the game room, but in-ho was off.

then, he felt a small hand on his shoulder causing him to turn around only to be met with your face.

“are you okay?” you asked as you caught up with him. “we did it, why do you look so down?”

“just surprised i guess.” he said, trying to brush it off.

walking back into the room, you were approached by thanos and his team.

“you goons made it back, huh?” thanos jeered, arms crossed as he looked you up and down.

that didn’t go unnoticed by in-ho. he slapped the boy across the face, shocking him as he gasped dramatically.

“look at me when you’re talking to me.” in-ho spat.

“who are you? is this your boyfriend, girl? isn’t he a bit too old?” thanos laughed. but in-ho didn’t take it lightly, punching him, causing him to fall to the ground as his nose started to bleed.

“young-il, that’s enough.” you stopped him before he could take it further.

with one last look of disgust, in-ho walked off, leaving the boy on the floor.

in-ho might not have realised it but that comment took a toll on him. it made him realise how true his words really were. he was in his 50s and you were so much younger than him, it wasn’t right for him to feel how he felt towards you.

“young-il, what happened-”

“go away, y/n. i don’t even know why you care so much.” he raised his voice, pulling his arm away before you could touch him.

you were dumbfounded, taking a step back as your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

did that come out too harsh? he hadn’t mean to snap at you, he was just so caught up in everything.

you simply nodded, heading back to the team as he stood there alone, regret overwhelming him as he cursed under his breath.

that night, he couldn’t sleep. how could he? he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to erase your pitiful face from his mind. eventually, he got up, walking towards your bed, but you were gone.

he started to panick, rushing towards the guards, pushing pass them to leave the room. as he practically ran pass the bathroom, he heard soft cries. shit.

he barged in, “y/n? are you here?” you didn’t reply.

he went to the only closed stall and gently knocked, making sure that he didn’t scare you. “y/n, open the door. it’s me.”

“go away.” he heard your muffled voice.

he really did mess up.

“honey, open the door, let me in.” he pleaded.

after a few moments, he heard a click. then, he saw you, sitting on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, your eyes and lips puffy from crying.

“oh, darling.” he cooed, kneeling down, just like how he did when you had first met. “why are you crying?”

you didn’t reply, only gazing up at him with sadness in your eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him what was wrong, he knew.

he sat down, pulling you close to him, letting you cry into his chest as he held you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it.” he murmured into your hair. “please don’t cry.”

his heart broke all over again with every tear that fell. he had hurt the only person that didn’t deserve any pain in this place.

what was he going to do? he had never felt this kind of weakness before, he almost felt vulnerable with you. you needed him and he needed you too.

[carnalcrows]

EX MARKS THE SPOT — THANOS

pairing: plug!thanos x male!reader

synopsis: After a messy breakup, you turn to Thanos, a dangerously smooth dealer in a suit, for more than just supplies—and somehow end up making your ex jealous while questioning your life choices (and his cologne).

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, drug usage, mentions of alcohol, myung-gi is reader's ex, marijuana, drunk sex, riding, shot-gunning, breeding, creampie, myung-gi is an asshole.

word count: 2.2k

A/N: this is hands down the funniest thing i've ever written lol. enjoy!!

Texting your ex always felt like poking a bear—pointless, frustrating, and dangerous. Yet, here you were, staring at a string of messages from Myung-gi, your recently demoted ex-boyfriend, as he passive-aggressively reminded you of all the things you’d “lost” when he left.

“Good luck finding anyone who’ll put up with you. Or supply you. 😊”

The nerve. You could practically hear his smug tone through the screen, and it made you want to chuck your phone into the nearest body of water. This man had cheated on you, lied about it, and somehow still had the audacity to act like you were the problem.

You rolled your eyes so hard you swore you saw the back of your skull. Myung-gi might’ve taken his flashy car, his designer cologne, and—worst of all—his “supplier,” but there was no way you’d let him hold your good times hostage.

Still, it was hard not to get irritated. Myung-gi always had a way of making your blood boil while somehow convincing you it was your fault. He was like an evil mastermind but dumber, pettier, and with terrible taste in socks. (Who wears neon argyle with loafers? Seriously.)

You shoved those thoughts aside and scrolled through your contacts. A friend had slipped you a number a few days ago, prefaced with, “This guy’s the best in town. Professional. Discreet. Just… don’t piss him off.” You hadn’t planned on using it, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

You took a deep breath and typed out a message:

You: “Hey. Got your number from a friend. Need to talk.”

The reply came almost instantly, which was mildly unsettling.

Unknown Number: “Come to 10th & Main. 9 PM. Cash only.”

Straight to the point. No pleasantries. Not even a "Hello."

You hesitated for a moment before typing back:

You: “Cool. What’s your name?”

Unknown Number: “Thanos.”

You stared at your screen, blinking slowly. Thanos? Thanos? Like the purple guy from the Avengers? What kind of name was that?  Was this some kind of joke? You half-expected his next message to be something like, “Bring me the Infinity Stones,” or, “I hope you enjoy dust.”

A dozen questions raced through your mind. Should you be scared? Impressed? Concerned he might snap his fingers and wipe out half your neighborhood? You weren’t sure if you were meeting a dealer or the final boss of a video game.

After a long moment of contemplation—and a quick Google search to make sure “Thanos” wasn’t slang for something illegal—you decided to go for it. Worst-case scenario, you’d die in an alley, and Myung-gi would probably gloat at your funeral. Best-case scenario? You’d have a cool story to tell.

With a sigh, you texted back:

You: “Alright. See you then.”

Unknown Number: “Wear something cute.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he… flirting? With you? Oh, this was going to be interesting.

When you showed up at the alley, you immediately regretted your decision. Thanos was leaning against the wall, his lean frame illuminated by the dim, flickering streetlight. His head gleamed like a polished amethyst, and his piercing gaze locked onto you the moment you stepped into view.

“So,” he said, his deep voice rolling over you like a summer storm. “You’re the newbie.”

You swallowed hard, clutching the cash in your pocket. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

He pushed off the wall, his towering presence somehow even more overwhelming up close. His suit, far too nice for a back-alley transaction, clung to his broad shoulders like it was tailor-made.

“You guess?” he repeated, tilting his head with an amused smirk. “Pretty boy doesn’t know what he wants?”

Your brain short-circuited for a moment. “I’m here for… you know… the stuff.”

His grin widened, and he handed you a small bag of green nuggets. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not gonna bite. Unless you want me to.”

Your face flushed, but you tried to play it cool. “Thanks,” you muttered, already turning to leave.

“Hold up,” Thanos called out, stopping you in your tracks. “Do you even know what to do with it?”

You hesitated, clutching the bag like it was a live grenade. “Uh… yeah?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Don’t lie to me, pretty boy. Come on.” He gestured for you to follow him, and before you could protest, he was walking toward a nearby bench under the dim streetlight.

You trailed after him, curiosity outweighing your embarrassment. He sat down, pulling out a rolling tray, papers, and a grinder like he was some kind of cannabis sommelier.

“Watch and learn,” he said, his hands moving with surprising finesse as he broke down the green nuggets and ground them up. He sprinkled the freshly ground product into the paper, rolled it up with precision, and sealed it with a quick lick.

“There,” he said, holding up the perfect joint like it was a masterpiece. “Now you try.”

“I—uh—I don’t know if I can…”

“You can,” he said firmly, pushing the supplies toward you. His large hands hovered near yours as you awkwardly tried to mimic his movements. Your fingers fumbled with the paper, and you could feel his amused gaze on you the whole time.

“Here,” he said, reaching over to guide your hands. His touch was warm, steadying. “Like this. Don’t roll it too tight. You want it to burn evenly.”

You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers brushed against yours. By the time you managed to produce something vaguely resembling a joint, you were red-faced and flustered.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” he said with a chuckle, lighting your creation and taking a slow, deliberate drag before handing it to you. “See? Not so hard.”

You took a hesitant puff, coughing immediately, which earned a laugh from Thanos. “Easy there, sweetheart. No need to impress me.”

As you recovered, he leaned back against the bench, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re cute when you’re trying too hard, you know that?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you just focused on not coughing up a lung.

Thanos grinned, watching you with that same predatory confidence. “Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy. You’re fun.”

A few days later, you found yourself at a house party you didn’t even want to attend. The music was loud, the drinks were cheap, and the pool in the backyard looked way more inviting than the sweaty chaos inside. You’d planted yourself there, floating in the shallow end with a Bacardi in hand, silently regretting your decision to show up.

And then, of course, he appeared. Myung-gi . Your ex was lounging by the pool with his new girlfriend—a painfully perfect, Instagram-model type who looked like she’d never experienced a bad hair day. He was laughing loudly, probably for your benefit, his arm slung around her like he wanted to rub it in your face.

You downed the rest of your drink in one go and muttered to yourself, “Great. Just great.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

You turned at the sound of the deep, familiar voice, and your jaw almost hit the water. There, standing at the edge of the pool, was Thanos. He looked unfairly good—white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark slacks that hugged his thighs in all the right ways, and that same smirk that made you question all your life choices.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice coming out more surprised than accusatory.

He crouched down, his golden watch glinting in the moonlight. “Got invited. Seems I’m more popular than I thought. But seeing you here? That’s a bonus.”

Your face heated, and you quickly looked away. “Well, enjoy the party.”

“Not until you stop sulking.” His gaze flicked to Myung-gi and back to you. “Ah. That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“You’re sitting here like a kicked puppy because of him.” He gestured toward your ex with a tilt of his head. “Pathetic, honestly.”

You bristled. “I am not sulking.”

“Sure you’re not.” Thanos chuckled, then slid off his shoes and rolled up his pants, stepping into the pool like he owned the place. The water rippled as he waded closer, stopping just a foot away. “Wanna make him jealous?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” He leaned in slightly, his smirk downright devilish. “We could give him a little show. Something to really stew over.”

Your heart raced. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He cocked an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You glanced over at Myung-gi . He wasn’t looking now, but the idea of wiping that smug grin off his face was very appealing. You turned back to Thanos, who was watching you with an expectant look, and something in his confidence made you throw caution to the wind.

“Fine,” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “Let’s do it.”

His grin widened. “Atta boy.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, Thanos closed the distance between you, one hand cupping the back of your neck as his lips met yours. The kiss was anything but subtle—his mouth moved against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless, his other hand gripping your waist as if to anchor you to him.

The water lapped around you, the sounds of the party fading into the background as you lost yourself in the moment. His lips were soft but commanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp.

You vaguely heard the sound of spluttering from the side of the pool, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Myung-gi standing there, his face a mixture of shock and rage.

Thanos pulled back just enough to speak, his lips brushing against yours as he murmured, “Think he’s mad yet?”

You glanced at Myung-gi , who looked like he was about to explode, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, he’s pissed.”

“Good.” Thanos grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips, this one slower, almost teasing. “Serves him right.”

By the time you finally broke apart, Myung-gi had stormed off, dragging his bewildered girlfriend behind him like a kid throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. You barely noticed, too caught up in the heat of the moment and the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

Thanos leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “You’re welcome.”

“For what?” you managed to ask, your voice a little shaky as you tried to play it cool.

“For reminding him that he downgraded,” Thanos replied with a smirk, his thumb brushing a stray drop of water from your jaw.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He tilted his head, his piercing gaze making your pulse quicken. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Before you could come up with a witty retort, he reached out and took your hand, pulling you out of the pool with an effortless strength that left you momentarily flustered.

“Come on,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, rich and enticing. “Let’s find somewhere quieter.”

You hesitated for half a second before nodding, letting him lead you away from the crowd and the noise of the party. Your heart pounded as he guided you down a dimly lit hallway, past closed doors and muffled laughter, until he pushed one open and gestured for you to step inside.

The room was cozy and dim, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. As the door clicked shut behind you, the weight of the moment settled over you, thick and electric. Thanos leaned back against the door, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

“You good?” he asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

You nodded, your breath hitching slightly. “Yeah.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible, and as his lips found yours again, all thoughts of Myung-gi —or anyone else—faded away.

You didn’t know how you ended up in this position. Or maybe you wanted it to happen. The booze and the weed had certainly gotten to your head.

Thanos was puffing on a blunt while you rode him, bouncing up and down on his cock with fervour.

“That’s it my boy…Taking it like a champ,” he mutters, the praise going straight down to your dick.

The hand that wasn’t holding the blunt was wrapped around your waist, guiding your hips on his length. He slowly took in a slow drag of his blunt while locking eyes with you, his dark orbs stained with red from all the substance. It certainly was a sight to see.

He pressed his mouth to yours, shot-gunning the smoke straight to your throat as you inhaled. You had gotten slightly better with the weed by now, so thankfully, you didn’t start coughing all over the place.

Your pace on his dick slowly sped up, you were at the brink of an orgasm. “Fuck… cum for me baby,” Thanos groans as his grip on your waist tightens. He takes another long drag of his blunt, before handing it to you.

You feel the scent of the herb hitting the back of your throat, and with that, you climax all over the purple-haired man’s stomach with your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Thanos releases soon after, painting your insides white.

You bask in the after-glow of mind blowing sex, lazily leaning forward on Thanos’ shoulder. The click of the doorknob alerts the man, who looks at a fuming Myung-gi and his still-confused girlfriend (the poor thing).

“Rise and shine my boy, I think we have an audience~”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[clockwayswrites]

Birds in their nest Part 18

masterpost

Danny woke relaxed. From his brow to the tips of his toes he was relaxed. Which was the first sign something was off. Relaxed was then followed swiftly by confused and wary. He stayed carefully still and silent as he took the space around him in.

The room was darker than his, heavier somehow in that darkness. It was quieter too. There was no noise of the city seeping through the annoyingly thin windows that looked out over the streets of Gotham. He was in a bed, though, and a very comfortable one at that.

(He forcefully pushed back the part of his mind that was still a scared boy worried about being captured and vivisected or cloned again or something else horrible.)

Slowly, Danny opened his eyes. The bed was more than comfortable, it was impressively ornate dark wood that almost faded into the dark blue walls. Somehow even the walls felt expensive. Danny figure it must be the wood detailing that ran around the room.

As he sat up up just slightly, everything clicked into place: the ballet, Bruce insisting on giving Danny a ride, and not remember the end of the ride. He must be at Wayne Manor. He must have fallen asleep in the limo. It was beyond mortifying. They Waynes had just been doing him a favor out of some sense of charity or pity and he’d ended up being a burden.

Danny collapsed back into the bed and covered his face with a groan. This wasn’t even some one night stand where he could slip out quietly or something; he had to see them. He had to say thank you and sorry and please don’t fire me for being weird. Gods, why couldn’t he just be normal for one night?

Even without wings or turning into a giant, eldritch bird he was a mess, Danny thought, slightly hysterically. Well, he might as well get up and face the music so that he could call a ride leave.

If only getting up wasn’t such a problem. Now that he was moving, Danny felt the ache of the missed doses of medication in every thread of muscle. He didn’t even have anything to take, not having one of his usual bags with him. Slowly, Danny got his feet under him and got himself standing. He breathed through the shaking muscles.

The change of clothing was a welcome sight. The suit (that he was totally going to have to get dry cleaned now) felt more than a little stale after sleeping in it. The provided leisure were was much more comfortable and, somehow as he pulled on the over sized hoodie, familiar feeling.

As he stepped out into the quiet hallways, Danny have wondered if he could make a break for it, pain and all.

“Good to see you awake, sir.”

Danny jolted so hard at the sudden voice he might have pulled something.

The stately elderly man that approached looked less than sympathetic. “My apologies, sir. If you will hand me your suit, I will see it dry cleaned and send to your office.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine, I’ve been enough trouble already—”

“I insist.”

Meekly, Danny handed over the suit after he had fumbled out his phone and watch from the pile. The other man took it with far more grace.

“If you will follow me, sir, I will direct you too breakfast on the way.”

“Right. Thank you Mr…?”

“Pennyworth, sir,” Mr. Pennyworth said and started off.

Danny scrambled after him and tried not to hobble too much even though he could feel his left knee threatening to buckle with every step. It was just a twinge. He would get home (after breakfast apparently) and take his medication and he’d be fine.

He’d be slowly turning into something eldritch and unknowable, but he’d be fine.

When Danny got to the able, it was already rather full though not everyone seemed that awake.

“They’re not morning people,” Duke explained with a sunny smile when he spotted Danny.

“Hn.” Bruce agreed articulately.

Danny smiled despite his current embarrassment. “I can see that, but I don’t think that I can talk considering last night. I am so sorry that I fell asleep in the car like that. I swear I don’t normally just crash like that. You should have just woken me up so that I wouldn’t be—”

“Danny,” Bruce interrupted. His voice was a low, sleepy rumble. Danny felt himself blush. “It’s no burden on us. You obviously needed the rest since you didn’t even wake once. I just hope that we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” Danny admitted. “But I really don’t want to be any trouble to—”

This time it was Cass cutting Danny, off as she swept into the room and pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek, then Bruce’s, and a few of her siblings as she made her way to a seat.

“Sit. Eat,” Cass signed and motioned to a seat next to Bruce.

Danny felt it best to give in and do as he was told. This family was just very confusing.

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[jinhyun]

—in your hands.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers

word count: 7.2k

summary: after a love confession and a few kisses took place the night before, it was finally time for you and Hyunjin to calmly talk things out and figure out where you were currently standing.

author’s note: here she is!! there is a lotttttt of talking and dialogue in this part, i feel like i should apologise lol. but anyway, the lovebirds needed to talk and, oh boy, talk they did. as always i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please let me know by leaving an ask or a comment<3

You’d woken up next to Hyunjin once before in your life; a little over a month before, when the two of you passed out on your couch on New Year’s and ended up cuddling through the night somehow.

You remembered opening your eyes and panicking when you realised your face was resting on his chest and his arms were loosely wrapped around you.

You didn’t want to move away and wake him up back then, but, at the same time, you didn’t want him to potentially feel uncomfortable if he woke up and found out the current position you were in. So, in the end, after some careful consideration, you did what seemed like the right thing to do: pull away from him and sit up on the couch, which inevitably resulted in him waking up as well and understanding what was going on right away.

This time, it was different.

Yes, you were once again met by his chest as soon as you opened your eyes, and his arms were one more time around you — although tightly this time, keeping you from pulling away from him through the night. However, this time you didn’t panic, but smiled instead.

Managing to pull away from him just enough to be on his eye level, you stared at his relaxed, beautiful features. From his thick eyebrows and closed eyelids, to his round nose, to those plump lips of his you’d got to kiss the night before.

You felt your cheeks burn at the still fresh memory. Although flustered by it, you couldn’t help but reminisce how good his mouth felt on yours, how hard your heart was pounding against your chest, and how you wished he’d kissed you for a little longer.

Freeing one of your arms from his hold, you reached your hand up to tenderly remove a strand of hair that was covering his eyes and tickling the bridge of his nose — then just leaving your hand there for a little longer, as your fingertips faintly traced his skin while you quietly admired him.

A part of you couldn’t believe he had been there for you all this time and you were only now noticing him. He was without a doubt the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on, but you didn’t feel any sort of attraction to him up until this year. And now that you did, now that you got to feel his lips on yours and see a side of him you never thought you would, you wondered how come it took you this long to see him in a different light.

Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead —and smiling to yourself when you watched the corners of his mouth curve up at the lingering contact—, you somehow went out of your way to remove his arms from your figure without waking him up.

You weren’t expecting him to come over last night, and you most definitely weren’t expecting him to spend the night; therefore, you had not restocked your groceries and were left with nothing to offer him for breakfast.

You made sure he was truly not waking up any time soon before you got off the bed and chose a rather cozy outfit for the day, so you could go to the bathroom and get ready to go to the grocery store around the corner while he got some more sleep.

You should’ve known better than to actually believe he would get another hour or two of sleep after you left his side, because not even two minutes into the store, your phone was buzzing in your pocket and his contact was showing up on the screen.

“Hey, you’re up” you greeted sweetly after taking the call.

“I didn’t take you for the kiss and dip type” he hoarsely called you out, regardless of the smile you could hear curving up his lips.

“No hello?” You joked. “How are you?”

“You’re the one who abandoned me, you don’t get to call me out”.

You chuckled at his over dramatic ways. “You’re literally at my place, it doesn’t work like that”.

“Well, you’re not in bed with me, so…”

“I thought of staying in bed for a while, but then I realised I was out of food” you explained. “I came to the grocery store around the corner, won’t take long”.

He whined. “We could’ve gone together later”.

“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up” you pouted. “Besides, I didn’t think you’d wake up before I came back. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” he mumbled, and you heard him shift in your bed. “Or better yet, make it five”.

“I’m still missing half of the things I need to get” you amusedly informed him, going over to check a pack of eggs. “Is there anything you’d like for breakfast?”

“You”.

You stopped in your tracks the moment that simple yet bold answer abandoned his lips, being too stunned to come up with a witty answer like you usually would.

You were still getting used to his newfound boldness, but you would lie to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy the butterflies flying around your stomach whenever he said something like that.

A breathy laugh of his was heard on the other side of the line the next second, when you remained silent and it hit him just how flustered he’d make you.

“Are you still drunk?” You were unable to hide both your amusement and disbelief.

“No,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

He did.

“You didn’t now?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Can you come back already?” He changed the topic, earning a light laugh from you. “I just wanna be with you, I’m not even hungry”.

“You still need to eat something, though” you argued. “Like I said, I’ll be there in ten”.

“Too long” he let out a heavy sigh.

“You can go back to sleep in the meantime” you suggested. “Or make yourself some coffee, you know where everything is”.

“Yeah, that sounds good” he hummed. “I'll freshen up a bit first”.

“There are towels on the upper shelf of my closet, in case you’d like to take a shower” you let him know. “There should also be a spare toothbrush you can use in the second drawer of my bathroom”.

He laughed lightly, rather dreamily, but ultimately said nothing.

“What…”

“Nothing, you’re cute” he said softly. “Come back here already”.

“I would go back faster if we stopped talking, honestly” you chuckled. “You’re kinda keeping me distracted right now”.

“Okay, I’m hanging up then. Don’t take too long”.

Looking at your screen when you heard him hang up on you, you rolled your eyes in amusement, laughing to yourself over how silly he was before you shoved your phone into your pocket and focused back on the eggs you’d been previously checking out.

The faster you got everything on your list, the faster you’d be back at yours with Hyunjin.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Being driven by seeing him again, you were entering your place again not even ten minutes later, carrying the groceries you had rushed to get.

You didn’t even have to announce that you were back, for Hyunjin came out of your bedroom right as you began to change into your slippers by the door.

You were greatly surprised by the sight of him in sweatpants and a black tank top that let you appreciate his toned arms, unlike the matching sweatshirt he’d worn last night. You guessed the tank top had been underneath it all along, and you were only now lucky enough to see it thanks to the hot shower he must’ve taken not long ago, since he was drying his hair with one of your towels right then.

“Hey…” you greeted him, feeling your cheeks burn when his eyes locked with yours; as you were once again invaded with memories of his pretty lips on yours the night before.

“Hey,” he smiled sweetly, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.

Without another word, he hung the towel on the back of your couch and went up to you, so he could pull you to his chest and feel you close like he had been craving since the moment he woke up and realised you weren’t next to him.

A loving sigh abandoned your lips when you felt his arms securely wrap around you, being hit with the realisation that you had also missed him those few minutes you’d been away from him.

Carefully dropping the bags you were holding to the floor, you wrapped your arms around him as well, feeling him relax under your touch and then lower his head so he could nuzzle the crook of your neck.

You jumped at the contact of his wet hair against your skin, earning light laughs from both of you.

“How’d you sleep?” You asked him softly.

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the way he smiled against you. “Better than ever”.

You chuckled, pulling him away by his shoulders and taking a careful look at him before you tenderly ran a hand through his damp locks. “No hangover?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Just thirsty”.

His remark got a laugh from you. “I figured you would be, so I brought you some isotonic water… as well as some medicine, just in case”.

He smiled brightly, not even needing to say ‘thank you’ for you to get the memo. Although he did say it anyway, in the softest of tones, that only you got to hear coming from him.

He swore to God he felt like marrying you right then and there every single time you looked after him like that.

“Are you hungry?” You interrupted his sudden fantasy, but still all he could focus on was the way your hand travelled down from his hair to his nape. “I’ll go make us some breakfast now”.

“I’ll help you” he offered, leaning down to pick up the bags you had left on the floor a minute ago.

“It’s okay, you can go rest a bit more” you followed him into your kitchen.

“No, I want to be with you” he said truthfully, placing the bags on the counter.

You let out an over dramatic sigh as you went to the cabinet to grab a pan, in order to get started with breakfast. “I made sure to be extra quiet this morning so you’d sleep until breakfast was ready…”

He chuckled, going over to you and hugging you from behind. “If you wanted me to get some more sleep, then you shouldn’t have left me all alone to freeze in your ice cold bed”.

“My bed is not cold at all, you drama queen” you called him out.

“Okay, maybe I overdid it a little,” he admitted, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking up at you. “Next time just stay in bed with me, hm? I’ll take you out for breakfast after cuddling for a little longer”.

“Next time?” You cocked an eyebrow, looking down at him like you weren’t just melting at his way with words.

“Well, I already have my own toothbrush in your bathroom, so…”

“Oh, yeah, that certainly grants you free will to stay over whenever you want” you amusedly rolled your eyes.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind holding you all night long again”.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest and silently looking down for a moment before you turned around, having his hands go right back to your waist as your eyes locked with his.

Since he’d brought the previous night up, it felt like the opening you needed to talk about the things that were left unsaid.

“What happened last night…” you fidgeted with the paws of your sweater, catching his attention while you looked for the right words and earned enough courage to look up at him. “You meant it?”

“I meant everything I said, Y/N” he answered in a heartbeat. “I meant kissing you as well, I thought I made it very clear?”

“No, yeah, you did” you agreed, nervously looking down once again. “It’s just that you had been drinking and you did say once that you tend to get quite touchy when you’re like that, so… I guess I just wanted to hear it again now that you’re sober”.

“Well, I’m telling you again now, Y/N,” he gently tilted your head up, making you look at him again. “I love you”.

Just like the night before, your heart skipped a beat.

“I know you might not want to hear that right now, but I do. And, like I told you, kissing you meant the world to me. The alcohol only helped me to finally let out what I’d been bottling up for ages, so… I really did mean everything last night”.

You believed him when he said it the first time last night, but hearing him say that now, staring into your eyes when you knew he was in all his senses, could only make your heart hurt in the best of ways.

“Did you mean what happened last night?” It was his turn to ask.

He sounded almost scared of your possible answer, but you nodded the next second, and he felt like he could breathe again.

“I like you, Hyunjin. As in, I do feel something for you” you confessed, unaware of what your words had just done to his heart. “But, like I said, I’m not ready—I just… I only very recently realised it, so I’m still trying to figure out the extent of my feelings for you. Honestly, had it not been for Chan, I probably still wouldn’t have realised any of it until your confession”.

“Chan?” He asked.

“Mhm…” you nodded. “He kinda opened my eyes after your parents invited us for lunch the other week, I was convinced you were only being friendly until then”.

“So I really owe him a big one, huh?” He laughed under his breath, stealing a small laugh from you as well. “I was flirting so hard with you, Y/N, I still don’t get how you didn’t notice”.

“I don’t know, I just… I wasn’t looking for romance anywhere; and you have always been so lovely with me, only that now you were getting bolder, but… other than that there wasn’t much difference, I thought you were being friendly”.

“There’s a reason why I’ve always been so lovely to you, though” he pointed out. “You’re the only one I treat like that, it was never me just being friendly…”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“You know what I mean” he smiled timidly.

You remained silent for a moment, staring at him in an attempt to confirm what you were thinking. “How long have you…”

“Over six years now?” He tilted his head, understanding what you meant even when you didn’t finish your sentence. “Going on seven”.

“Hyunie, that’s…”

“Insane?” He completed for you with a nervous chuckle. “Yeah…”

You shook your head no, having trouble taking this new bit of information in. “I was in a relationship for four of those years…”

“I know,” he nodded. “Hurt like hell”.

You fell silent, taking in this new piece of information and being hit with all the times Mingyu complained about Hyunjin and how clearly in love he was with you.

You always brushed it off and told him to open his eyes, for Hyunjin was only Yeji’s little brother and, therefore, he saw you as a sister figure as well. You were now discovering that the one who needed to open her eyes were you.

You never suspected a thing. When you recently met, you thought he was shy around everyone. Then when you were comfortable enough around each other, you thought he was that kind to everyone. You thought he cared about everyone, he wanted to help everyone, he was friendly to everyone.

Turned out neither did he treat everyone like that, nor was he being friendly with you all along. It just came off like that to you, because you never expected him to have feelings for you.

However, looking back to all those times now, you were still unable to see the signs. You were unable to pinpoint when it all had started, as the only change in his behavior —and in your relationship as a whole— you perceived had been this year. He had always acted the same around you ever since you met, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had at some point done something for him to get the wrong idea and change the way he saw you.

“Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know” you apologised. “When did you even—Did I mislead you at some point?”

“You didn’t. It was all on me, trust me” he smiled bittersweetly.

“Honestly?” You pushed it.

“Mhm… honestly” he reassured you, holding your hands in his and rubbing his thumbs on the back of them, as if wanting to comfort you over what he was about to say. “Remember when you stayed with us that weekend when something went down at your dorm?”

“The time we met?” You asked.

He nodded. “That’s when I fell for you. I just saw you enter the room and that was it for me”.

There it was, the reason why you never felt a switch in the way he acted around you; why you couldn’t tell the difference between his kindness and his romantic interest towards you.

He had fallen for you the first time he saw you, and you had gotten that version of him since the beginning — when he was too young for you to look at him with other eyes, and even for you to ever suspect he felt anything other than simple platonic affection for you.

You hurt for him. He had loved you all these years and you had not once given the way he treated you a second thought until last month. How could you have been so blind?

“You’re serious?” You murmured.

“I’m always serious when it comes to you” he gently caressed your chin.

“I’m so sorry, Hyunie. I had no idea, I feel awful…”

“Don’t,” he stopped you. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. All you did was show up and I took it from there”.

“Still, if only I had known…”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I was a minor back then; and when I wasn’t anymore, although we did grow closer for a while there, you fell in love with Mingyu”.

You felt like crying. You knew what it was for the person you loved to fall for someone else, and you couldn’t believe you were the one to make him experience that sort of heartbreak.

“I’m so sorry…” you apologised one more time.

No matter how many times you said it, it didn’t feel like enough.

“Baby, it wasn’t your fault” he reassured you once more — the pet name he’d called you last night slipping through his tongue yet again, and somehow managing to put your heart at ease whilst simultaneously making it go wild.

“When we got close back in your first year of uni, like you just mentioned… you were…” your sentence was left unfinished, but he nodded, understanding what you were trying to ask. You closed your eyes to compose yourself at his silent confirmation. “And then I started dating Mingyu and distanced myself from you…”

“What else were you supposed to do?” He tried to comfort you, and you couldn’t help but internally laugh at the irony of it. He was trying to comfort you over breaking his heart back then. You could truly cry right then. “You didn’t see me like that and fell for him, it wasn’t something you could control”.

“I would’ve been more lowkey about my relationship with him, though…” you mumbled. “Wouldn’t have mentioned him in your presence. Definitely wouldn’t have brought him along the times I knew you’d be there”.

“Now that would’ve brought you so much trouble with him…” he smiled softly. “He wasn’t precisely my biggest fan, was he?”

“Yeah… you’re right” you mumbled. It wouldn’t have been an easy situation to handle. “Still, I would’ve been more mindful about it”.

“You’re so cute” he appreciated the sentiment. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep it going on forever, though. I mean, it’s been over six years and I was nowhere near getting over you when you guys broke up”.

“You had two girlfriends, though…”

“And there’s a reason it didn’t work out with any of them” he shamefully pointed out.

“I don’t know what to say…” you shook your head. “I don’t wanna hurt you anymore, Hyunjin”.

“Why would you hurt me now?”

“My feelings for you are so recent, I don’t want us to… rush into something while I haven’t figured out the extent to them. Then there’s also the whole thing with Mingyu, because although I like to believe I’ve moved on, it did still sting when I saw him kiss Hayun only a couple of weeks ago… and I told you so” you suddenly felt guilty; had you known he had feelings for you back then, you would never have bothered him with your ‘ex boyfriend drama’. “I don’t know if it stung because of him or because the situation is just shitty, so I don’t know if I’m fully over him yet, and when you and I are together I want to be one hundred percent devoted to you”.

Hyunjin smiled.

‘When you and I are together’.

‘Devoted to you’.

That sentence alone was enough for him not to dwell on your residual feelings for your ex.

Even if it was unconsciously, the way you had phrased it let him know you wanted to be with him at some point.

He couldn’t wait for that day to come, when you were as devoted to him as he was to you.

“And now there’s the situation with Dahye as well…”

“I thought we cleared that up last night?” He questioningly tilted his head.

“We did, but that’s not the point…”

“What’s the point then?”

“I was left with a lot of trust issues to deal with…” you explained. “I know you’re not like him, but I can’t help but be paranoid when it comes to other girls or to you simply getting tired of me at some point”.

“Y/N, I would never do any of those things” he reassured you. “I would never do anything to hurt you”.

You smiled weakly. You believed him, you really did; but that was what he said now given what he felt for you in the present. Nothing could assure you that he would always love you, and so you would have to just take the risk and leave your heart in his hands if you wanted to be with him. That was what terrified you.

“I want to be with you, Hyunie, but I’m just too scared of love and romance right now…” you timidly admitted. “And when Dahye told me all those lies, although it did sound very off to me, a part of me couldn’t help but be scared that maybe she wasn’t lying”.

“So a part of you believed her…”

“I’m sorry…” you apologised. “The way she described you didn’t sound like you, not the way I see you, at least. And it didn’t match what you told me about your relationship with her, but I thought… we weren’t together, so you didn’t really have to tell me the truth, or even the whole story… you were free t—you are free to be with whoever you want and don’t owe me any explanations, so…”

“I only want to be with you, though” he cupped your face, telling you exactly what you needed so badly to hear. “And I guess you could say I don’t owe you explanations, but I want to give them to you. I like to believe we’d both explain something that’s bothering the other”.

You weakly nodded. “I’d like to believe that, too”.

Hyunjin smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before his hands were firmly placed on your waist and he lifted you up with ease.

“Okay now,” he sat you down on the kitchen counter, pulling you closer to the edge of it and resting his hands on your waist. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“It didn’t make much sense,” you fidgeted with the necklace falling over his chest. “But it was pretty much that I should stay away from you because you guys had this ‘fuck buddies’ relationship going on for years now, and that even if you got in a relationship with someone else, you’d go back to her every time”.

Hyunjin sighed, growing visibly angry at both Dahye and the situation itself.

He told her not to mess with you, and she did exactly that. Still, he didn’t believe she would go as far as to come up with a whole fantasy of them being sexually —and emotionally?— involved in order to keep you away from him.

He didn’t know what else she was capable of after this, and he most certainly didn’t want to find out, nor did he want to even give her the chance to mess around with your relationship one more time.

“What are you doing?” You asked when he dug his hand in his pocket and took out his phone.

“Blocking her” he simply replied as he unlocked it.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to—”

“I told her I would block her if she messed with you,” he let you know, locking his determined eyes with yours. “And that’s what she did, so…”

Eyes going back down to his mobile, he went to their Twitter chat and then pressed on her profile — blocking her right before your eyes without even giving it a second thought.

Maybe he should’ve given her a piece of his mind before cutting her off, and a part of him really wanted to tell her a thing or two, but at this point he just couldn’t give a fuck.

He was tired.

He could’ve lost you because of her, and he was never forgiving her for it.

If hanging out with his friends became awkward after this or he straight up had to turn them down not to run into her, then so be it. They were his friends, not hers; and God knows he was tired of having to deal with her whenever he wanted to spend some time with them.

“I already told you last night, but she lied. She made it all up” he repeated what he’d already let you know. “There isn’t much more to the story than what I’ve told you. We kissed at a party like two years ago, I was drunk, didn’t remember, told her it meant nothing, and she hasn’t left me alone since. That’s literally all there is to it” his genuine words were enough to put both your heart and mind at ease. “We were never even friends, the only reason I put up with her for so long was not to make it awkward for my friends. We were never fuck buddies either; I’ve never had that kind of dynamic with anyone, actually. And me going back to her is ridiculous, the only person I’d keep going back to over and over is you, which is kinda what happened both times I tried to move on with someone else, as shitty of me as it was”.

With that said, he handed you his phone.

Looking down at it, you realised he had opened back his chat with Dahye, which was now showing a message at the bottom that let you know her contact had successfully been blocked.

“What is it?” You asked regardless, hesitant to take a look and let alone to hold his phone in your hands.

“Our chat. She doesn’t even have my phone number, Y/N. That’s how close we are” his sarcasm managed to get a smile out of you. “You can read our texts if you want. The last conversation is the most important one, but you can go through all of them if you want”.

Taking one look at his phone in his hand, you refused his offer. “It’s okay, Hyunie. I trust you”.

And for you to say that when you had just let him know how hard it was for you to put your trust in someone else again a minute ago, meant the world to him.

“This isn’t a matter of whether you trust me or not, though. If it helps your mind feel more at peace then I have no problem showing it to you”.

“Your chats are private, I shouldn’t—”

“There’s nothing private between me and Dahye” he clarified in a heartbeat, speaking clear enough to make sure his words got through your head. “The last time we talked she found out I was in love with you and threatened me with telling you. That’s why I misunderstood everything last night”.

“That’s why you thought I was turning you down?” Your heart hurt for him once more, as it seemed to be usual for you to unintentionally break his heart.

He nodded, leaving his phone next to you on the counter. “I thought she told you about my feelings for you, and that you were distancing yourself from me because you didn’t feel the same and were thinking of the right way to let me down easily. And then when you said you wouldn’t be able to let yourself fall for me if what she said was true, I just…”

He shrugged, looking elsewhere as he remembered how unbearable the pain in his heart had been last night.

Catching on his hurt, you pulled him to your chest, feeling him relax inside your arms before he tightly wrapped his own around you as well.

“I took some distance because I didn’t want to jump into conclusions and needed some time to think…” you clarified.

“I know that now, baby” he hummed.

You smiled softly, holding him tighter and planting a small kiss on the crown of his head.

“I’m sorry I put you through so much”.

“It’s okay” he kissed your shoulder, going back to your eye level. “Anyway, if you change your mind later on, my password is my birthday as well”.

“Oh, so you’re just as basic as me” you smiled widely, allowing a small giggle to escape your mouth when he rolled his eyes at you.

“I don’t have it as the passcode to my place though, now that’s just unsafe as hell” he taunted you, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling your neck. “Although I might change it to yesterday’s date now”.

“The day you got drunk and disrupted my very peaceful sleep?” You teased him.

“Oh, absolutely” he played along, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Which also happened to be the night we first kissed, so…”

He could feel your cheek burn against his hand, and how your eyes had naturally fixed on his mouth at the sound of that, just like his eyes had been going back to your lips throughout your entire conversation.

He was dying to kiss you again, and he could only curse the promise he made last night not to kiss you again starting this morning. At least not until you decided you were ready to kiss him without feeling like you were leading him on.

“You’re making it really hard for me not to fall for you…” you whispered against his lips, only then having him snap out of it and realise how close he had unconsciously leaned in.

Fuck, you were making it so hard for him not to kiss you.

“That’s good, because I want to make you fall for me” he smiled, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, in a poor attempt to put some distance in between your mouths. “Will you let me?”

“Let you what?”

“Make you fall for me?” He asked, locking eyes with you. “I know you need to figure things out, and I’m giving you all the time you need, but in the meantime can I just try and make you fall for me?”

You hesitated. “I don’t want to lead you on, Hyunie…”

“I wouldn’t mind it, though…”

“Hyun…” you sighed.

“We kissed last night, Y/N, and now you’re telling me you do feel something for me. How would that be considered leading me on when there is an actual chance of you falling in love with me, too?”

“I thought your feelings for me were kinda recent too, and that we were both figuring it out, but now that I know you’re in love with me it feels cruel to keep flirting with you and treating you the way I did…” you went back to fidgeting with his necklace. “We’re not on the same level yet. I’m still scared to love someone again and to be in a relationship… there’s still a mess in my head and dragging you with me while I try to figure it out is just…”

“My heart is already in your hands, Y/N. It’s up to you what you choose to do with it and I’ll respect your final decision regardless of what it is” he promised. “Whether we’re together or not, I already got dragged into this. All I’m asking for is a chance. Just one chance to show you that you can trust me and that love doesn’t always have to end in heartbreak” the softness of his voice could make you cave in right then and there. “I can love you right, Y/N. You won’t owe me anything and will have all the time you want to figure your feelings out, but please, just don’t let us lose how far we’ve come. I can’t pretend nothing happened between us and stay away from you while you figure your heart out”.

“Hyunie…”

“Please?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours and tenderly rubbing his thumbs on your sides. “Was today supposed to be some kind of farewell to the way we’ve been acting so far then?”

You pouted, realising then how selfish you were being by acting so lovey dovey with him when you were claiming not to want to lead him on.

Truth was, you were finding it hard to control yourself around him anymore. You wanted to take it slow and make things right with him — you owed him that much. But then again, and most importantly, you wanted to be with him. Even though your feelings were recent, they were taking over your entire being faster than you’d expected.

You wanted to be with him. Whether you were a couple or not, whether you were on the same level when it came to your feelings or not, you wanted to show him how much he meant to you and you wanted to feel how much you meant to him; and it was getting harder and harder for you to hold back when you were together.

Your heart and your mind were at conflict, for the first was telling you to risk it all while the latter warned you to be careful and not to rush into anything.

And in the end, although you wished it wasn’t like that and you knew it was selfish of you, you were already in too deep to take a step back from him while you figured everything out.

When you wouldn’t reply, being too immersed in your internal conflict, Hyunjin faintly brushed his nose with yours, unable to keep his eyes from going down to your mouth before they travelled back to your eyes. “Are we really supposed not to be like this anymore?”

“Now how can’t I give in when you look at me like that and say all those things?” You spoke quietly, sounding almost ashamed you’d given in that easily — and, to some extent, you were.

His lips parted into a beaming smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. “Is that a yes then?”

“Yes,” you smiled as well, faintly tilting your head to lovingly bump his nose with yours. “We can take it slow, maybe? If you’re up for it…”

“We can take it however you want,” he was quick to reply, earning a light laugh from you. “Although I would appreciate a definition of ‘taking it slow’, so I know what I can and can’t do…”

“I don’t know, I feel like we could keep being the way we were before this whole misunderstanding? You know, test the waters… see what works the best for us and take it from there?”

“Sounds good enough for me” he agreed with a smile. “Can I keep shamelessly flirting with you then?”

You chuckled. “Yes”.

“Can I come over whenever I feel like seeing you?”

“You did that before as well, so yes”.

“Hold your hand? Send you your coffee order and pick you up from work? Cuddle you?” He asked all in a row, and this time you threw your head back as you laughed loudly at his silly antics.

“Yes, Hyunjin. Those were all things you used to do before as well”.

“So what I’m hearing is the only things I can’t do from now on are kissing you and getting too handsy”.

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin…” you called him out with burning cheeks.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Where did the ‘getting too handsy’ part even come from?”

“Well, I probably would’ve at some point last night if you didn’t stop me…”

Too stunned to speak as you felt some kind of electricity run through your body, you fixed your eyes on the door to your right, avoiding his amused eyes while you miserably tried your best to hold back the smile that was already curving up the corners of your mouth.

With a small chuckle, he cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him. “Have I told you before that you’re adorable?”

“Shut up” you playfully pushed his hand away.

Hyunjin laughed loudly, going right back to hold your face, only now with both hands. “So those are the conditions then?”

“I think?”

“Can I take you out on dates?” He asked one last time.

Now, that was kind of a grey zone, for it depended on whether you considered your previous outings and hangouts as dates, so the new ones he was proposing wouldn’t go against the boundaries you had just set when it came to taking it slow.

Nevertheless, even if it meant breaking your own rules, you couldn’t deny that you would die to go on a proper date with him.

“We’ll see” you smiled sweetly, making him smile as well while he tenderly caressed your cheeks. “Since we won’t be taking any distance, though, and we already had a misunderstanding that left us both hurting because of someone else, maybe we could…”

“Not go out with anyone else?” He quietly finished your sentence, when you struggled to come up with the right words.

“Is that too selfish of me to ask?” You asked with a tilt of your head. “I know I’m the one asking for time here, but…”

“No, no. I was going to ask for the same if you didn’t mention it, I’m glad you brought it up” a shy chuckle escaped his lips. “I’m probably the selfish one here because I wasn’t going to anyone else anyway, but I really needed to know you wouldn’t either”.

“You’re quite literally the only guy I’ve looked at with other eyes since I went back to being single, Hyunjin” you confessed, oblivious to how bad his heartbeat was racing because of you. “You really made me go against my wishes to stay away from romance for a good while; I wasn’t going to anyone else anyway either”.

“You mean that?” He mumbled, eyes sparkling as he looked for any sort of amusement in yours.

“Of course I mean it,” you cupped his face with one of your hands, tenderly running your thumb up and down his cheek.

He let out a heavy sigh, letting his face fall to your shoulder. “God, I would’ve died if you fell for someone else”.

“I won’t, Hyunie” you reassured him, running your fingertips up and down his back. “So there’s nothing for you to worry about”.

Choosing to say nothing, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you could feel the way his body was faintly trembling.

“You’re shaking…” you whispered in concern, tightening your arms around him and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“I can’t believ—I was so scared you’d push me away for good” his voice was muffled against your skin.

“You’re really underestimating how fast you’ve made your way up in my heart” you said softly, making him go back to your eye level and look at you. “I’ll do my best to work on myself so I can give you the love you deserve, hm?”

Hearing you say those words to him so genuinely, left him speechless.

Hearing it coming from your very lips that you wanted to love him right, he could only feel on Cloud Nine, as he was now the closest he’d ever been to being with you the way he had always dreamed of.

All he could do right then was to press a loving kiss to your forehead and then pull you to his chest, securely wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head as he whispered how much he loved you.

He knew you weren’t able to say it back just yet, at least not the way he meant it, but he didn’t mind saying it out loud for you to know. He didn’t mind loving you for longer, and he definitely didn’t mind loving you more. You wanted to get there at some point, and as long as you loved him back in the end, he could take being the one who loved harder in your relationship.

After all, he had left his heart in your hands and had you welcomed it, with the promise to do your best to return the same kind of love he felt for you once you were able to overcome your current fears.

Even if it meant he would have to wait a little longer, the way you smiled against his chest right then, along with the way you held him closer to you as well and ran your fingers up and down his back in the loveliest of ways, were enough to make his heart feel at ease, as he could tell right then that you would be gentle with it and wouldn’t let it break again now that you knew how much love it held for you.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin

[pricetagged]

MEDIEVAL SCAMMER GHOAP?! Please enlighten us🙏🙏🙏

Since you both asked so nicely, have a snippet of a whisp of a concept😅

I have an idea. Not fully fleshed out. I could go in two directions, either historical Ghoap working as Pardoners and taking advantage of ignorant village reader (corruption kink, religious themes, abuse of power etc.).

OR, for my monster-lovers, has anyone seen Dragonheart? I was picturing, like, one of them is something beastly, the other plays at knight = profit? Fantasy scam and rescue? So, it would go something like this:

(Tw kidnapping and kind of mean Ghoap)

---------

Your situation didn't look any better flipped on its head. Flipped on your head, rather. Snatched and thrown over a bulky shoulder, high– higher than even your standing position. It was discomfiting; it was terrifying. Blood rushed to your face not only in fury but also in shame as your skirts fluttered in the breeze.

He noticed, too. His greedy fingers dug into your thighs, skimming down like he was soothing a skittish horse. But you felt the way he lingered. The way he chuffed and squeezed tighter when you kicked out with all the strength of a skittish colt.

Your fists pounded uselessly against heavy splint-mail, hands-catching on rough nodules and spikes that didn't quite register as pain. Not to your panic-stricken mind, thoughts flying off in the wind behind you as the beast carried you off.

But the smack registered.

Perhaps it was the sound, the harsh slap of flesh on flesh. Whipping crack, like the snapping of a great branch. The precursor to an eerie stillness, violence begetting obmutescence. And it worked–

–for a second. For the time it took for your stinging nerves to catch up with your racing mind. Then you howled. Kicked and clawed and hissed like a feral cat as tears welled in your lash-line.

"How dare you–"

"Quit yer fashin'. Ye'll bring the whole kingsguard down this way–"

"–good–"

"–and then I'll have tae kill them all," That had your attention, legs tense under the heavy band of his bicep. "Dinnae much feel like sharin' ye around."

"Oh, you beast! You foul, vile, disgusting–" Your voice was high, words scratching as they hitched out of your aching throat.

It hurt to speak, vocal cords already shredded from the way you'd screamed when he'd first ransacked your village. Coughing on heavy, acrid smoke and crying futile warnings about the Black Knight and his monster-in-arms ('Quiet, girl. Viper-tonged harlot, slither off and for gods' sake, quiet!') . But it hurt more to be silent. You flung insults like broken arrows, hoping that they would somehow land. That they would hit, fortuitously, and pierce the thick-hide of this brute. But hope is vain, and the fancies of men make gods laugh.

You landed hard on something soft.

Ego almost as bruised as your knees, you kept your eyes low. Sweeping. Marshy, wet silt. Topsoil sluiced off, only mud and clay and reeds to your right. A cheerfully babbling brook just beyond, water murky and discoloured with backwash from– the water flowed past the estuary of the village so it must be– no–

The realisation was caustic. Mordant. Burning at you like the scorched air in your lungs.

"You're a monster," you spat the words, mouth watering in your haste to let ichor drip forth and blacken him as much as the foul, brackish water ahead.

"Noticed that, did ye," he laughed, words glancing off like feeble blows. "Best not tae piss me off, then. Stay there and behave yersel'. Company's comin'."

Glancing up at him was like a blow to the stomach, wind punched out and body shaking. You already knew that he was big, inhuman. But now you could see every inch; monstrous, twisted mockery of natural features. Like a man formed of rock, too immense and hard and jagged to pass for anything but artificial. Counterfeit. Contranatural. Creation's bastard. All tusks and teeth and shorn hair. Hair everywhere, even down his bare, bulging forearms and thick knuckles. Coarse, dark.

His eerie, bright blue eyes blazed around black, pupils wild and blown. It could be the thrill, cruel playfulness of an apex predator. Berserker-wide, coming down from the kill–

But he'd been carrying you for a while, bloodlust long-since sated on the men and manse of your homeland.

You shivered, sweat and cold mingling in a discomfiting damp that raised the hairs on your arms. (The hairs on the back of your neck were already needle-stiff and prickling).

You pocketed a stone, a big jagged filthy shard. One you hoped could bruise and slash and poison, turn wounds weeping and sick.

Now that you were silent, he seemed especially strident, swaggering around the barebones of what you supposed must be a dwelling. You felt the slight whistling of air from the cave behind, cavernous and black. If you had to run, to hide, you'd take your chances with the forest and river ahead. To be lost in the appetites of the mountain abyss would spell death as surely as at the hands of this creature.

You watched him, cocksure and comfortable as he shucked off his warhammer and began unbuckling his braces. If you could read the snarl of his crooked teeth, you'd perhaps say he was in high spirits. He sent you a wink as he shrugged off his splint-mail, gravelly laugh echoing in the cavern behind.

It disguised the approach of your visitor.

"Grabbed the wrong one, Johnny," you shrieked as something grabbed your forearm, hauling you up. Looking down you saw the muted sheen of a spiked gauntlet. Black patina, flaked in iron rust. You swallowed hard, lump in your throat so big that it caught any words that might try to escape. Him. The Black Knight. The Liar. 

"Ye said to grab the pretty one by the fancy house."

"She's not the magistrate's daughter. No ransom for her." He spun you around, metal biting hard into your chin as he arched your face towards his.

Cloaked in ink-black helm and visor, you could just about peer in to meet his gaze. He looked back with cold, assessing eyes. The voice that rumbled forth was as harsh and breccial as you remembered, words rending you apart with serrated precision: "Not worth a rescue mission."

He released your chin with a final shake of your head, huffing amusement as you rubbed at the thin scratches he left behind.

It was hard to breathe now, stomach swirling and head-light. Even if you could will yourself, it wouldn’t help. There was already a faint coppery smell leeching from the Knight; your heart recognised it even if you would not give name to it. It sped up, fast enough to rush past your ears with discordant force. 

You didn’t feel the other one step up behind you, not until it was too late. There, trapped between man and monster (man the monster), tight enough that you couldn't even shiver. You felt the power of the creature even more now without the armour, all muscle and fat, sheer power close enough to sink your fingers into. But you couldn't move, your shallow breaths already catching in your throat into soft, hitching whines. 

"Shh, it's alright, bonnie," Rough, clumsy fingers swiped under your eyes. You felt him crouch lower, stubbly hair and tusks digging into your powder-soft cheek. "Looks like we're gonnae have tae keep you, then."

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

[spicyspiders]

something that never existed

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.4k words

This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.

It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy. 

The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you. 

Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–

You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door. 

“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy. 

“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you. 

Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable. 

You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground. 

“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you. 

You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays. 

“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands. 

“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.  

“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift. 

“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand. 

“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you. 

The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk. 

“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable. 

“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window. 

“You must get thirsty back there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”

He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door. 

“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob. 

Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day. 

“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear. 

With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back. 

“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back. 

You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear. 

Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock. 

“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock. 

You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real. 

“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth. 

He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed. 

“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”

His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base. 

You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.    

Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”

It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up. 

Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you. 

[deadsetobsessions]

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams

ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPING A MAFIA BOSS

In Tucker's defense, he thought he was doing someone a favor. A life saving favor, in fact.

"What the fuck-!” The red helmeted guy yelped as a deceptively strong Tucker yanked him onto the bike and sped away. Before Tucker could explain, the GIW agents behind them got in a lucky shot and hit the helmeted liminal with a strong blast to the head.

Clearly, his gear wasn’t equipped with anti-ecto protections, because the guy slumped over on Tucker’s arms. This was bad, because Tucker now had to maneuver about 230 pounds of Gotham muscle while speeding away from government agents. He flicked on the jammer so they couldn’t track his and red helmets’s ecto signature.

“STOP!”

“Ah, shit.” Tucker cursed as he somehow managed to gather up red-helmet’s body and stabilize the bike. “C’mon, Tuck, you can do this.”

Blasts of anti-ecto tech slammed into buildings around him. Luckily, Gotham was used to this kind of shit so people just moved out of the way before going back to their day. Tucker wove around traffic, trying to lure the agents into slamming face first into some signposts.

“Stop damaging the local infrastructure!” Tucker yelled back at them, speeding up.

“WELL REIMBURSE THE PEOPLE AND THE CITY LATER! TELL US WHERE PHANTOM IS!!”

“Over my dead body, you jerks!” Tucker took a sharp right, catching red helmet before the man could slip off. He sped up and took the ramp downwards, heart beating loudly in his ears as he strained his senses to figure out- ah, they took the ramp upwards. Good. Now, all he has to do is bring red helmet back to home base.

“Oh my god. I kidnapped him,” Tucker groaned, slapping at his face before quickly placing his hands back on the handle bar once the bike teetered over with red helmet’s weight. “I’m a criminal. Oh my god.”

Then, as he found his way back, “…Well, it’s not like I wasn’t a criminal before, with the whole resisting arrest thing.”

——

Tucker dumped the red helmet liminal onto the couch of their shared apartment and went to take a shower. When he got out ten minutes later, he found Danny and Sam staring at the helmet guy. Tucker pushed up his glasses (after letting them defog from the shower) and greeted them.

“Hey, guys! I found him while I was running away from Agent L and J.”

“You okay?” Danny asked, eyes immediately flicking over Tucker for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m good. They’re horrible shots.”

“I thought Danny was the one who brought home strays but you…?” Sam commented, arms crossed and a purple painted nail tapping at her arm. “Wait. Isn’t this… that crime lord? What was his name?”

“Red Hood?” Danny offered, turning back to look at the guy on their couch.

Tucker paled. “Oh, no.”

Guns? Check.

Red Helmet? Check.

Bat-Symbol? Check.

Shit.

They collectively stared at the guy in silence.

“…Tucker,” Sam slowly said. “Did you accidentally kidnap a crime lord?”

“Hey, I didn’t want him to get killed! He’s liminal! Even more than us, except for Danny.” Tucker grumbled. “Man, this is why I leave the hero-ing to Danny. I do one good thing and suddenly I have a crime lord on my couch.”

“My couch,” Sam corrected, as she was the one that furnished their apartment.

“What do we do now?”

“Eat dinner,” Tucker said. “I’m famished.”

Sam nodded. “Wait for him to wake up and hope he doesn’t shoot us the moment he wakes up. Then, we explain.”

Danny grabbed all the visible guns he could see. Tucker went to start dinner. Sam supervised, because her boys were idiots and now she had a crime lord in her apartment.

——

Jason groaned, head swimming in a sea of dull throbbing pain as his eyes fluttered open.

Then he remembered he was abducted, and bolted up right. He paused as a series of quick observations made its way to his consciousness.

One. He’s not tied up. Weird, because everyone knows that he’s a weapon even without his weapons.

Two. His weapons were right there, just in reach.

Three. He was surrounded by teenagers and/or young adults who were all scrolling along on their phones.

“Oh, hey, he’s awake! Hi!” The Wayne bait said, electric blue eyes fixing itself on Jason. “Were you aware you died?”

Jason went rigid, hundreds of way to-

“Danny!” A scolding tone cut of Jason’s immediate panic. Two couch pillows slammed into Danny’s face, courtesy of goth girl and nerdy but strong.

“Dude, why do you start with that? Why are you like this?” His… possible kidnapper? asked, exasperatedly flinging his hands into the air as he rolled his eyes.

Goth girl scowled. “Boys. Crime lord, couch, remember?”

“Hey, in my defense, I died too!”

And that- as Jason remained dumbfounded in this circle of tomfoolery- was what snapped Jason out of his daze.

“You what?” He rasped out.

And when he saw them open their mouths at the same time, Jason just knew his headache was going worse.

——

Tucker, effortlessly plucking the actual red hood from the streets: and I whoop-

Jason, whose type is strong, nerdy, and tall: *heart eyes* *but not really because he’s unconscious*

——

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker.”

Jason enters chat:

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker and his boyfriend, the Red Hood.”

——

[f1fantasys]

BROKE

Warnings - explicit smut, minors dni, male and female receiving oral, blowjobs, fingering, sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing. HEAVY ANGST

A/N - hope you all enjoy this. I had some much fun writing it and it’s one of my longest fics I’ve written. Please leave suggestions in the comments and requests are always open!

5K+

The breakup was messy. You'd dated Lando for 2 years, but had known him for much longer than that. He was your everything, and you thought he'd remain that forever. But you were wrong. So wrong. Here you were, 6 months after the breakup and you heart was still breaking into pieces with each passing second.

You were a social media content creator for f1, and obviously Lando being a driver, meant you had spent a lot of time together, both in front of and behind the camera for about 3 years, until Lando asked you out and well, the rest was history. You both fell ferociously in love with each other - only for it to end in shatters.

Things were more than perfect at the end of last year. You'd had the most incredible winter break, and for the first time, you even spoke about getting married one day.

You were spending the last few days of the break on a ski trip in Finland. Lando had rented the coziest little cottage with a lush interior and fancy fire places to keep you warm from the blazing snow outside. The day had been filled with laughs and falls while skiing, and once you made it back in doors Lando jumped you in the shower. He pushed you to the wall, attacking your lips with his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth, exploring it. You were a moaning mess as you felt his hand slide down to your core, pinching and pulling at your clit as he slid two fingers in at once. ''Oh Lan'' you moaned into his ear, palming his throbbing dick and feeling it twitch in your hand, causing his breath to hitch at the sensation. ''Gonna fuck you senseless, yeah?'' he asked, before lowering to his knees, eyes not leaving yours. All you could do was nod your head and bite your lip as he licked a stripe up your cunt, collecting all your juices and using them as a lube to easily slide his tongue through your entrance. You pulled at his hair as he thrust in and out of you, shamelessly moaning the most obscene noises you could muster, as you released and came all over his mouth, shaking in his hands. He made sure to swallow everything before leaning up and kissing you with urgency, before he pushed you down by your shoulders to sit on your own knees now. You pumped him a few times as you spread his pre cum across his slit before you leaned forward and deep throated him, gagging in the process. Your hands pumped whatever you couldn't fit in as he held your hair out of your face, praising your name through gritted teeth. ''Taking me so fucking well baby'' he mumbled. He took a hold of your head now and fucked himself in and out of your mouth relentlessly, hardly giving you any room to breath. A few minutes later his movements were sloppy and his dick started twitching as you felt him shoot sheets of warm, salty cum down the back of your throat. You rode him through his orgasm before standing up again. He man handled you to face the other way, pulling your ass out and thrusting into you immediately, rough and fast. Your palms were flat on the wall as he pushed the side of your face against the cool tiles and fucked into you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear. His one hand snaked around your throat, applying some pressure as he continued his activities, telling how tight and how good you were for him, until your body was shaking and shuddering with the intense orgasm. He pulled out and somehow go the both of you out of the shower, before lifting you to sit on the counter by the sink. He spread your legs open and stuffed himself back into you, taking a hold onto your waist as your hands found and squeezed at his biceps. You came a third and fourth time before Lando was emptying his load into you, fucking it as far in as he could. You leaned forward on him, breathless, chuckling at the quick turn of events. He told you he loved you, you did the same. The night didn't end there though. Lando had fucked you in the kitchen again, ate you out in lounge on the floor by the fireplace, as well as in the hot tub, before you decided you wanted to taste again him so you gave him head so good he thought his mind might just explode. It was as if you were both starved of each other and hadn't had sex in days, though it was quite the opposite. You did the nasty almost everyday since the winter break started, and you still couldn't get enough of each other. When Lando fucked you for the last time that night, as you both lay in bed, he told you how you changed his life for the better, how he's never loved anyone as much as he loves you, and how he doesn't plan on loving anyone else but you. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes hearing him say all that. And as you both came in unison, Lando told you how one day he was going to marry you and how you'd start a family together. You had told him you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him. It was incredible while it lasted.

As the season started and Lando's head was focused on the world championships, and you slowly started to feel him slip away, race by race. You figured it was just the stress of it all that was causing him to shut you out.

Although you were a presenter for sky, it didn't mean you were at every race. You were often back at HQ in England, streaming from there or preparing notes for the next races you were to attend.

You would face time as best you could with the different time zones, and you always tried to be home in Monaco whenever he was. Normally he would run into your arms at first sight and pepper you in kisses, tell you how much he missed you. But by the 5th race he had distanced himself so much that all you got when he walked through the door was a ''hey'' and a retreat to your bedroom.

As the races continued your face times became less frequent, and most of your messages to him went un-answered. If my any miracle he did reply, it was just a short one or two word response. No more ''I love you's'' at the end.

The one day, when he was in Canada and had actually picked up your call, you asked him what was going on.

''Lan, is everything ok? You've been distancing yourself so much lately and I miss you, I really do'' you said through the screen.

He sighed. ''You know y/n, I have to focus on my job, keep my mind where I'm needed mentally and physically. It's not like I can race cars sitting at a desk like you do. I have to actually be here, and I thought I'd have more support from you to come to my races.''

Wait, what? Was he actually saying this to you right now? He'd always respected and supported your job, and now all of a sudden that's a problem for him?

''Lan, what? You know I come to as many races as possible, and it's also a job where I'm needed physically at HQ, but we've always made it work, and we always communicate as much as possible when we're apart. You know I always support you, even if I'm not there in person. Where is all this coming from?'' you asked, desperation in your eyes.

''Whatever, I can't deal with this now'' he said, before ending the call.

You scoffed, if he couldn't then you couldn't be arsed to deal with it now either.

He'd returned home the day before you did. He'd text you the morning you were supposed to arrive that he was going on a golfing trip with Carlos for a few days.

You were upset at the fact that he was choosing to spend his time home away from you, when he knew you wouldn't be going to the next 2 races. You'd tried to distract yourself and meet up with the other wags that were in town but it only made you more upset listening to how perfect their relationships seemed at the moment.

4 days later, Lando returned home. You were in the kitchen preparing lunch as he just walked through the door, ignoring you, and straight to your room.

You both were too stubborn to say anything for the rest of the day. You'd eaten in silence and done your own things until you went to bed. Normally he would be cuddling you from behind, kissing you breathless, but tonight you slept as far as possible though on the same bed.

What you weren't expecting was to be waking up the next morning with Lando hovering above you and pushing his dick into you. You moaned at the contact and instinctively bought your hands up to cup his face and pull him in for an urgent kiss, wrapping your legs around him as tight as you could. He set a quick, fast pace, fucking into your core eagerly. Your nails dug into his skin as your body trembled, reaching your orgasm quicker than usual because you were so desperate for a release, and it wasn't long until Lando was emptying himself into you. This time he pulled out straight away and went to the bathroom - to clean himself up - not you - before he jumped in the shower and then merely said he has paddle with the boys, leaving you hornier for more.

That was the last time he fucked you. He didn't touch you after that. One day, after the next race when you were both home again, you'd had a silly argument, both throwing metaphoric daggers at each other, and so Lando had been streaming all day, not interacting with you at all. You were in the lounge watching tv as you heard quiet moans coming from his streaming room. You quickly got up and silently walked to the room where the door was slightly jar. You watched as Lando had his cock in his hands, jerking off while watching porn.

You couldn't help but let a tear slide down your cheek as to what extent he was willing to go to to not be with you. But you still loved him, so you let it slide and busied yourself doing other things.

You'd caught him getting himself off a few more times - once in the bathroom in the middle of the night, once right next to you in bed, while he thought you were sleeping, and once sitting in his car just as you'd returned home from doing some shopping.

The one race you were working at, he again ignored you more times than you could count, and you'd ended up having multiple arguments about stupid things all 5 days that you were there. You'd both said hurtful things to each other, things you never thought you would say

You were reaching your breaking point now, he was not talking to you, not touching you, just shutting you out in every way possible, so you decided you needed to confront him about it.

At the start of summer break, the one day, Lando was sitting out on the balcony, watching the sunset, alone, a beer in hand.

You walked out and sat next to him, staring out at the beautiful Monaco view, before you looked at him and started talking.

''Lando, please talk to me. What's going on'' you said softly as you tried to keep you tears at bay.

Lando looked at you, for what felt like the fist time in months, his eyes beautiful as ever but not holding the usual warmth and love he once held for you.

''There's really nothing to talk about'' he said quietly, turning away from you.

''What do you mean? You've distanced yourself from me for months, and I've kept quiet, but you need to talk to me, tell me what's bothering you or what I'm doing wrong, because clearly I seem to be the problem here'' you said, the tears threatening to spill any second.

''Why does everything have to be about you? Fuck. You're so fucking needy all the time. Always calling and texting and trying to get my attention when I have more important things to deal with. If you want my attention so much then why the fuck aren't you at all my races?'' he spat.

''Is this what this is about? Me not coming to all your races?'' you asked, not believing it.

''I told you, it's not all about you.'' he said, throwing daggers at you.

''Lando, you're not making any sense. You say I'm needy then you blame me for not going to races. Where is all this coming from? Our communication has dropped so low. You seem to want to me away from me at al times. You don't talk to me, you don't do anything with me these days. You haven't even fucking touched me in months'' you say.

''Oh so now its about me not touching you? I don't have time for shit like that anymore'' he said, standing up and leaning against the balcony.

''It's about everything, Lan. How did we let our relationship sink this low? And don't think I didn't fucking catch you getting yourself off all those times after we last fucked'' you spat back, also standing up now.

His gaze on you turned angry. ''Ugh I'm so fucking sick of it all. All the whining and irritation. Take a fucking hint, y/n'' he said through gritted teeth, shouting at you now.

''So is this it then? Just throw away years of friendship and love because YOU let our relationship sink?'' you asked, voice softening, the tears falling uncontrollably now.

''The doors' fucking open'' he said, pointing at the door.

You heart shattered as he said that. He gave up on you, and now he was practically telling you to leave.

You stood there, frozen, before he spoke again.

''If you won't then i fucking will'' he said harshly, walking away from you and out of the door.

Your body went into shock. You managed to tremble inside before your legs gave way and you sat on the floor by the sofa. A series of wrecks ripping through your body.

You cried so much that night, your heart broken into a million pieces all by the person you loved the most.

On a different occasion, you knew Lando would rush back to you, apologize and ask for your forgiveness. But something in the way he spoke and looked at you tonight told you that this was really the end. He was done with you.

You didn't hear from him again after that. You tried, so hard to move on without him in your life. You packed your bags and left the apartment, finding a smaller place for yourself. Your job was still your passion, so you stuck with it, requesting to spend as much time as possible at HQ rather than going to races, to which your bosses kindly agreed to because they knew your relationship with Lando and how much you were struggling.

You closed off from mutual friends, even the wags, because all they did was remind you of what you once had with Lando. Carmen though stuck by your side through it all. She was your lifeline. Everyday felt like the worst day of your life, reliving the break up over and over again. By now you felt like you were functioning just for the sake of it.

Last month you even went on a date, but all you did the whole night was compare him to Lando - the Lando that you loved, not that broke your heart. You ended up saying you were feeling sick and left early.

Nothing was helping you move on. All you thought of 24 hours a day was what was and what should have been.

Lando though, didn't seem phased by anything. You often caught yourself looking at his Instagram account to see how he was doing, though you knew it was the worst thing to do. Gossip accounts would post regular updates of him walking out of clubs beaming, happier than ever, with a new girl at his side every time. It broke you how quickly he moved on. How okay he was without you, yet here you were trying to hate him and be angry at him, but not able to diminish the love you will probably always feel for him.

Your boss this morning had just told you that you had to go for the next race in Singapore. They desperately needed you back on their screens and the more you though of it, you needed to get back out there and move on with your life. You needed to block Lando, your lover, as much as you could, and only deal with Lando the driver.

You were excited to finally go to a race, you absolutely loved it and maybe it was a good first step for you. Sky had assured you that you would only be working with Ferraro this weekend, and have nothing to do with Mclaren.

It was also good to finally catch up with some of the other wags and your Sky girlfriends. After the first night out with them, you knew you were stronger than you thought and you knew you'd be okay.

It was media day today. You'd opted for a simple body-con dress, nothing too fancy or showy.

You held your breath as you entered the paddock. For the first time in over two years you were entering alone, not with Lando holding your hand, and your heart couldn't help but ache at the though of it.

But you quickly screwed your head back on and made a bee-line for the Ferrari garage. Charles' eyes brightened as soon as he saw you, rushing over to hug you. ''Y/n, its so good to see you again, we've really missed you the last few races'' he gushed.

''Ah it's good to see you too Char, and I'm so happy Alex is here so we can catch up!'' you said, jumping slightly when Carlos appeared out of nowhere and pulled you in for a hug.

''Our favorite presenter is finally back where she belongs'' he squealed.

The day was going well, you managed to do all your work in the Ferrari garage, as well as record a few bits for the pre-race shows. That was until you were being pulled into the driver press conferences to take notes for Craig Slater as his usual colleague fell ill.

You walked behind Craig, following him into the room and as you looked up you locked eyes with none other than Lando.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took him in. He still looked handsome as ever, though his expression of initial shock of seeing you quickly turned to a frustrated look, clenching his jaw.

You sat down, hands shaking, and tried to concentrate on what you were here for. You listened carefully to the questions and answers, and when Craig asked Lando a question he couldn't have made it more obvious that he was not happy to be here let alone answering ridiculous questions. He shot daggers at everyone, replying sarcastic and cocky answers wherever he could.

As soon as the press conference was over he shot out of his seat and bee lined through the door. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding in. You walked into a passage and saw George came over to you and engulfed you in a tight hug. He knew how Lando had hurt you because of Carmen. You also knew you could trust him.

You couldn't help but break down completely in his arms, your sobs over taking your body as he held on to you and let you cry. ''You're okay, y/n, shh'' he whispered into your hair. ''Why does he look at me like he hates me?''you sobbed. ''Y/n, no he doesn't. He's just being an ass'' George reassured you'' After a few minutes you said ''I'm sorry.'' ''Hey, don't be sorry. I'm here for you whenever you need me'' he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes sincerely. He wipes your tears from your face and told you he'd give you a ride back to the hotel since you were staying at the same one.

You managed to calm down on the ride back. ''Call me if you need anything, anytime of the night'' George said, walking up to your room with you.

As you settled in bed that night your mind couldn't help but replay the once good times of yours and Lando's relationship. Your tears returned as you cried into your pillow. No matter how much you try to forget him and move on, your heart strings are still gravitating towards him.

Just as you were about to fall asleep your phone buzzed with a message. When you turned it over and saw who it was, your heart skipped a beat. It was him.

''Why the fuck are you here Y/n?'' was all he said.

''It's still my job Lando'' you replied, not sure which way this was going.

His next message sent another dagger through your heart-

''I don't want to be fucking anywhere near you''

By now you were full on sobbing again. How has he just forgotten everything from the last few years. He's literally talking to you like he hates you and can't stand the sight of you. You really didn't even know what to respond.

''Well you don't have to worry about that. I'm with Ferrari all weekend''

He didn't reply anything after that. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.

You got up early the next morning and went for a run to clear your mind. You needed to concentrate on work so you threw yourself in as soon as you got to the paddock. Filming with Charles and Carlos was always a fun time and they had lightened up your mood for a bit until they had to get into their cars for FP1 & 2.

At the end of the day, you'd stayed behind to finish some work up. Just as you were packing up you heard the door open, expecting it to me a mechanic or someone from Ferrari hospitality but when you looked up you were internally shaking. Lando.

He stood there, looking at you with the same disgust he'd shown you yesterday. Yes he still looked handsome but he also looked tired and worn out. Hair messy, eyes red. He didn't say anything right away.

Instead you both just looked at one another for multiple seconds. You tried to keep your composure and not let him see how broken you were. But with each passing second you were failing.

You finally cleared your throat and said his name, rolling it off your tongue left a bitter taste on it.

''Lan Lando'' you said, holding your breath.

His voice was firm but soft. ''Why the hell are you are y/n?'' he asked the same question as his text.

You sighed. ''I told you I still work with Sky. It's my job and I love it. I'm not going to leave just because you don't want me here'' you said, surprised at how you held your words with saying that.

Now it was his turn to sigh. ''But what don't you fucking understand'' he almost shouted, putting his hands in his pockets. ''I don't want to fucking be around you. I don't want to associate you with my love for racing, so stop coming here'' he spat.

You let a few tears roll down your cheek, heart breaking all over again at his words. ''Lando what did I ever do to you to make you hate me like this. Why? Why did you distance yourself and why did you walk away from me?'' you whispered.

He shook his head. ''All I know is that we were a mistake. We were wrong in so many ways, and I wish we had nothing to do with each other'' he said in a low voice.

By now you were struggling to breath, literally. You sat yourself back down and held your head in your shaky hands, your mind refusing to believe he was saying all of this to you. You were having a full on panic attack in front of him.

Gasping for air, you looked at him again. ''Lando I-I-'' you said, begging him to do or say something to calm you down. He was always the one who would do so and now he was the one causing the pain.

You shut your eyes and took a few deep breaths while he just stood there and looked at you.

This was it, you thought. You had to find a way to let him go and live your life with him in the past. You won't let yourself continue to love someone who doesn't love you back. Someone who hurt you in so many ways and who said painful things about your relationship in which you were at your happiest.

Just as you were about to look up again you felt hands on your knees. You gasped as you saw Lando leaning down, tears in his own eyes. He squeezed your knees and opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead his tears spilled over onto his cheeks. His touch sent a jot of electricity through your body.

You placed your hands on top of his and smiled through your tears. ''I'll go, you wont have to worry about being near me anymore'' you whispered, though he quickly shook his head.

''Yes, I'll be fine. You'll be fine'' you said, even though you didn't believe yourself one bit.

What you didn't know was Lando's side of the story.

Everything was perfect. You were both in love. Life was good, more than good. Then this year came along, and Mclaren suddenly had a competitive car. He was closer than ever to be in contention for both drivers' and constructors' championships. He didn't know how to handle the highs and lows, the pleasure and pain. And instead of coming to you for help, he pushed you away. He became the nastiest person he'd ever been. He hurt you in ways you never deserved in a million years, thinking it'd be easier if you hated him, that way he can focus on racing. But boy was he wrong. Distancing himself from you in the beginning was frustrating and felt wrong in so many ways, but he pushed himself away from you, telling his brain it was for the best even though his heart and gut knew what he was doing was wrong. Then even when he was around you physically, he had to keep himself away. Instead of throwing himself in your arms after being away from each other, he barely acknowledged you. He refused to let himself touch you, kiss you even though all he wanted was your comfort. The one time he fucked you was a moment of weakness, or so he told himself. And then the breakup. The most gut-wrenching day of his life. The words he'd thrown at you, the lies he told you, the guilt he made you feel. He was broken when he walked out of the door that day. Every cell in his body was telling him to come back into the house and apologize to you, beg for your forgiveness, hug you and never let you go, yet his mind was made up, and he couldn't look at you again without feeling the pain of all the guilt of everything - so he didn't turn back. For 6 months he used every girl that threw herself at him, in the hopes that he could forget about you and move on, though he found himself comparing every girl to you. None of their hair was soft and silky as yours, no one had smooth and lush skin, no one had curves in all the right places, no one kissed him and touched like you, no one fucked him as good as you did. But most importantly, no one was as beautiful, as kind, as intelligent as you were. He was miserable, jumping from one girl to another only to be praising your name as he came and have her call him a dickhead before walking out. He shouldn't have been surprised to see you back at the Paddock - it was also your job to be there. But when he locked eyes with your he felt all the air leave his lungs, and even though he wanted nothing more than to run up to you and take you in his arms, he decided that being pissed off was the easier option. As if it was. When he'd texted you last night, it was more of an excuse just to 'text you,' not to be an asshole, but of course, he was nothing less than as ass. And today, he was about the head out back to the hotel when Charles had asked how he felt having you back in the paddock, and eventually he'd let slip that you were still here, working late. Lando's feet had auto-piloted their way to you. Did he plan on hurting you again? No. Did he hurt you again? Yes. As soon as the words left his mouth of calling your relationship a mistake, he wanted the world to swallow him up. It was anything but a mistake. It was all-consuming love that held passion, kindness, trust, honesty, and earnestness. And he ended up throwing it all away for nothing. Not that anything would be worth it. He should never have even thought anything like that, let alone say it out loud to you. The last straw was not helping you through your panic attack. You all but begged him for help and all he did was stood there, feet stuck to the ground as he couldn't believe such vile words left his mouth causing you to go through all of this. Without thinking he ran up to where you were sitting and knelt down, his hands coming into contact with your skin after months of agony. Through all of this, even though his actions were the exact opposite - he never stopped loving you. Not once. He decided then and there that he needed to own up to his mistakes and ask for your forgiveness, even though he doesn't in a million lifetimes deserve it.

''Y/n,'' he said, voice breaking.

''No Lando, you don't have to say anything. I'll leave, never come to the paddock again, I'll find a new way in life for myself. One that doesn't revolve around you. I promise. You don't have to worry anymore. I-'' you stated while he cut you off.

''No no no y/n, listen to me'' he said then continued-

''You don't understand. It's not you that i hate. It's me. It's all fucking me'' he said through his tears that were now freely falling.

You honestly didn't know how to respond, so you stayed silent, hands still above his on your knees.

''I know I don't deserve you even listening to what I have to say but please, please just hear me out. Even if you hate me after everything, I need to tell you'' he begged.

You nodded.

''Y/n nothing was ever your fault. We had the most incredible relationship and I went and fucked it up. I know it sounds fucked up, but having a competitive car this year threw me off balance. I didn't know how to deal with the ups and downs, and instead of coming to you for help or telling you how I felt I shut you out, pushed you away, and disrespected you so much that i physically fucking hate myself for it. It's no excuse for how i treated you but i need you know that not for one second did i ever stop loving you. I don't think there will ever be a time where I'm not in love with you. Walking out the way I did in Monaco ended my world and even though i wanted to walk straight back in to you, i knew i didn't deserve to after everything i said. I am so, so incredibly sorry for everything I said and did. I know it's selfish for me to ask, but please, please forgive me, even though you owe me nothing. I hope we can find our back to each other because living in this world without you is the worst, most painful feeling I've felt these last 6 months. We were never a mistake, and we will never ever be a mistake. I love you so much y/n'' he said softy through his tears.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. It was all too much. Too many words spoken for you to process everything he said. You wanted to believe him, to jump back into his arms and tell him your forgive him, tell him you love him more than anything. But you had to protect your heart before any of that could happen.

''Lan'' you whispered, unable to say anything more as your tears were flowing uncontrollably.

''It's okay baby, I know, that was a lot. Catch your breath. Just breath'' he said, bringing his forehead to yours, Whether he was trying to calm you or himself down, he didn't know. But he held onto your hands and squeezed them tight.

As hurt as you were by him, he actually managed to calm you down and bring your breath back to a normal pace.

You pulled away from him after a few minutes, looking into his puffy and red eyes, breaking at how this was all affecting him more than you thought it was.

''Lan,'' you started again.

''I really appreciate you telling me all of this. But you hurt me, so much, more than I ever thought possible.''

He nodded his head, tears returning to his eyes.

You continued - ''And as much as i still love you, as much as i want to go back to where we were a year ago,'' you sniffled. ''I need time. I need time to think through it all. I can't risk my heart being broken by you again. I have to protect it'' you said, unable to wipe away at his tears.

He nodded again, held onto your hands that were still holding his face. ''I know. What I did was awful and I don't expect you to take me back right away. I completely understand. But please know I will always, always wait for you. No matter how long it takes. I only want to be with you, so whether you want me in a minute, a year, or 10 years, I'm only yours, if you'll have me, that is.''

You nodded and stayed staring at each other for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes.

Lando cleared his throat and mumbled that he needed to get back to the debrief.

He gently got up and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, letting his lips linger there for longer than he should have.

''I'll see you around, yeah?'' he whispered.

''Yeah, see you'' you cooed, trying to break a smile at him as he returned it before walking out.

You let out a few heavy breaths, trying to allow your mind to catch up to what had just happened.

The next two days of the race weekend passed with a blur. You were so busy at work that the times you were in the paddock you hardly had time to breath, let alone let your mind wander to Lando.

You'd seen him i passing a few times, the both of you giving each other a shy smile, before either you or him were being pulled away for something or the other.

He'd texted you last night after quali, just checking in and asking if you'd wanted to fly back to Monaco with a few of the other guys and mutual friends. He said he hoped he wasn't over stepping too soon. But you'd appreciated the offer and told him you've love to.

Once you were back in Monaco Lando hugged you tight and kissed your cheek, before you drove off in different directions to your houses.

The few weeks that followed that weekend were both a breath of fresh air and a mix of longing and desperation.

You were glad and grateful that Lando had explained himself, but that still didn't justify why he hurt you so much, and so even though you wanted to go back to him, your heart was still wary and doubtful.

He'd texted you a few times in between, the conversations light and positive from both you and him.

You hadn't seen him until you bumped into each other at Jimmyz one night. You were out celebrating one of your girlfriends' bachelorette's party.

It was the first time in a long time that you were excited to dress up and go out, try and have a good time. You opted to wear a white lacey dress, that left little to the imagination. It wasn't you go to dress since it was quite daring - but you woke up today feeling good about a day full of opportunities(!!!!)

You'd been in the club for about an hour, actually having fun and dancing with your girlfriends, drinking enough to be a bit tipsy but not drunk.

At one point, you went to the bar to get another drink. While you were waiting for it your eyes wandered around the club - watching people dance and drink like crazy until you you found none other than Lando's eyes.

Your breath hitched and you couldn't help but internally swoon at him. He looks so good, in his black button up and backwards cap. his eyes instantly turned a shade darker the more you looked at each other. As the shock sore off, his face broke out into a smile that held a thousand suns in it and you returned it with your own.

He started making his way towards you, drink in hand until he was standing in front of you. Neither of you made a move or said anything, until Max Fewtrel broke you both out of your trance and pulled you in for the tightest hug, drunk, and mumbled how much he'd missed you.

He situated himself to sit on a stool at the bar, in between you and Lando, mumbling away and talking nonsense.

You could see from Lando's face that he was starting to get annoyed with his friend. He reached over and took your hand, electricity igniting between the two of you and he pulled you to a booth where you could finally be alone.

Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the contact, as he didn't let go when you were standing to each other again, with nothing in-between.

He smiled again. ''How are you?'' he asked.

''I'm, I-I'' you stuttered, not finding your words.

He gave you a worried look, smile dropping and eyes wearing a shade on concern, which quickly turned to lust when he saw you bite your lip.

Suddenly, Lando launched himself at you. He pushed you against the wall, cupped your face and crashed his lips to your with an urgency so unfound you had no time to think but reach you hands up to his face.

The kiss was messy and desperate, the both of your starved of each other for too long.

''Lando'' you cooed between breaths as he slightly pulled up and rested his forhead against yours.

''Fuck'' he mumbled. ''I'm sorry'' he said, started to pull back but you kept a firm hold on his face and shook your head at him, before bringing your lip back to his and sliding your tongue into his mouth.

He responded instantly, hands returning to wrap around your body to pull you as close as possible as his tongue fought with yours, winning eventually and sliding into your mouth now.

Your hands found his hair and pulled at it as Lando's mouth moved down to your neck and sucked and nipped at it, finding your sweet spot as if he'd never forgotten.

You moaned at his actions as you rubbed your thighs together, something he didn't miss. It took everything in him to pull away and look into your eyes.

'''Let's get out of here, yeah?'' he asked, voice laced with desperation.

You couldn't form words now. All you knew was you were so horny for him, and if you didn't find some privacy soon, you might just let him fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to watch.

''Y/n?'' he pulled you out of your thoughts.

''Uh huh'' you said, grabbing his hand and letting him lead you out the exit.

The uber back to his place - once yours too - was palpable with sexual tension.

You couldn't keep you hands off each other, and you were practically sitting in Lando's lap as he nuzzled his face into your neck and hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear which had you blushing.

You cupped his face again and kiss him slow and deep, savoring the moment until he ruined it (not that you were complaining) by slipping your boobs out of your dress and lowering his mouth to them.

He sucked at your peaked nipples, pinching them between his fingers as you tried to suppress your moans bu pulling hard on his hair.

Finally, the uber driver cleared his throat, telling you you were home. As Lando payed him a generous tip, you slipped your boobs back into your dress and shimmied out of the car, Lando not far behind you before he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

You giggled as he tried and failed to open the door a couple of times before finally getting the right key and walking into the house.

As soon as the door was shut he had you pressed against it.

His dark eyes stayed on yours before he ripped your dress off of you into two pieces.

''Lando!'' you squealed, pouting at him.

He smirked. ''Oh don't 'Lando' me as if you aren't turned on by it'' he said, knowing you all to well.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

As you stood there, hands behind your back, Lando shamelessly gawked at your body.

You didn't miss how his eyes turned shades darker when he saw you weren't wearing any panties.

You licked your lips and sighed. ''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you cooed.

He looked back up at you, though didn't say anything.

Instead he walked closer to you and sank down on his knees, prying your legs open all the while his eyes never left yours.

You held onto his hair and bit your lip, knowing what was coming as he gently reached up and let the back of his index finger slide through your dripping folds.

Your body hissed at the contact, having dreamt of this feeling too many times since you last felt it.

With ease, he slide his finger through your entrance before leaning forward and using his mouth to devour your pussy.

You gasped and moaned as you placed your one leg over his shoulder, giving him better access.

''Fuck Lan, yes, please'' you said through breaths as he also moaned at finally tasting you again.

He pulled back to add to more fingers as you closed your eyes, rolling them to the back of your head.

''Taste so fucking delicious baby, missed this so much'' he mumbled before diving straight back in.

You could feel your orgasm approached hard and fast, and before you could even warn him it was ripping through your body, shaking you above him as you moaned one of the most obscene noises you think you've ever made.

You gushed your fluids all over his face as he tried to swallow as much of it as he could as he rode you through your orgasm.

He finally pulled back and stood up again, lets his lips latch onto yours so you could taste yourself on him. Lando pulled and bit at your bottom lip as you started to unbutton his shirt and take his belt off.

When he was left in his his jeans, he hoisted you up again, smacking your ass as he stalked to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed.

You giggled as you sat on your knees and hooked your fingers through his belt loops as he leaned down and kissed you again. You popped his bottom open and slid his jeans down, ogling at the growing bulge in his boxers as he took the jeans off completely.

You palmed his thick girth, eager to have him in your mouth. Just as you were removing his boxers he stopped you.

''You don't have to'' he said sincerely. But god, you wanted to.

So you ignored him and continued your task, groaning when you finally set him free. His dick was standing hard and tall, angrier than you'd seen before, with the vein at the side throbbing with the blood rush. You took him in your hand and licked your lips at the sight of pre cum oozing out the slit at the top.

He placed his hands on you, taking a hold of you head as you leaned forward and harshly sucked on just his tip, letting your tongue run over the slit, swallowing all the pre cum.

''Fuck me'' you heard him mumble as you took more of him in your mouth and pumping what you couldn't fit in.

You deep throated him, feeling him hit the back of your throat as his hands on your head tightened, and began a quick pace of sliding him through your lips.

Lando let out a series of moans and praises of you.

''You're so fucking good at this, don't know how I survived without it for so long, fuck y/n'' he said through gritted teeth again.

You were gagging, tears threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.

Hearing him say all those things had your core dripping, clenching around nothing. And so as you got distracted him rubbing your thighs together, Lando took full control.

He was fucking his dick in and out of your mouth, showing it no mercy until you felt him start to twitch uncontrollably.

''Fuck y/n, gonna cum, yeah?'' he said. You knew he was asking if he should cum in your mouth or pull out.

But you didn't slow your actions. Instead you fondled with his balls, pulling at the tightly until he could barely hold his body up, ropes of warm cum shooting down the back of your throat.

Fuck he tasted good you thought as you rode him through.

Words had long left his mind as all he did was let out his own obscene moans and groans, slipping your name in in-between.

You pulled back as you swallowed everything and sent him a sheepish smile. You were both spent and you hadn't even fucked yet.

Lando pushed you down and hovered above you, kissing you again as you wrapped your legs around his body, begging him for more.

''Lan please, i need you to fuck me, please''

Normally he would tease you for begging like that, but he wanted nothing more than the same.

So he pumped himself a few times, sliding through your folds and lining himself up at your entrance.

''Ready baby?'' he asked.

You nodded eagerly.

He pushed in, quickly, stretching you out. It burned, since the last time you had sex it was with Lando when he fucked you before the breakup.

You held you breath as he bottomed out, stopping his movements to allow to you get used to the intrusion.

''You ok?'' he asked after a few seconds.

''Yeah, I am. You can move'' you whispered.

And he did. He pulled out and slammed back into you roughly.

Your nails were digging into his back, probably drawing blood as all you could was moan at how he felt.

His own moans were more pornographic that ever, and he quickly set a pace that was so rough and hard, but felt so fucking good.

''Lan, yes, fuck, uh'' you said, groaning with each thrust as his mouth found your nipples to suck and bite at.

''So fucking tight my angel. Feels so good. Taking me so fucking good'' he moaned.

''Not gonna last long'' you managed to mumble.

''Don't hold it in. let it out baby'' he said, bringing his fingers down to toy with your clit.

In no time you felt the warmth build up in your stomach as you pulled Lando's head up for a dirty kiss, spit from the blowjob still messy around your mouth and chin.

''Fuck Lan, I'm gonna cum'' you said as your body shuddering with your orgasm fluttering through you, your inner walls clenching around his cock almost painfully.

He didn't slow his movements though. He whispered dirty words into your ear and you instantly felt yourself getting worked up again, waiting for another blissful orgasm.

Suddenly he stopped his movements. Your eyes flew open, ready to protest as he slid out of you and sat against the headboard.

''Need to feel you ride me, please'' he begged as he helped you to your knees as your straddled him.

You both sat there, panting as you took a hold of his cock and sank down on him, gripping his shoulders tightly as you set another hard and fast pace, bouncing up and down on him.

Lando's eyes flew to your boobs, his mouth agape as he watching them move with you.

''So fucking hot baby. Gonna fuck a baby into you one day and see how your boobs grow even bigger''

All you managed to do was moan at his words as you leaned down and captured his own nipple into your mouth, biting and sucking at it as he was now meeting you half way, fucking into you.

''Fuck Lan, you feel so good'' you said, feeling another orgasm approaching quickly.

''Hmm baby'' he mumbled.

You moaned loud as you orgasmed again, your fluids gushing out of you and making a mess.

''Feel's so fuckin tight'' Lando moaned as you started to feel his movements get sloppier.

He was in control again since your body was still shaking and tired from your orgasm as his cock started twitching inside of you.

In minutes he was cumming in you, praising your name to no end as sheets of warm cum filled you up. His own body shaking and shuddering against yours.

As you rode through your orgasms and slowed your pace you looked at Lando again, taking in his disheveled state, eyes still dark, mouth agape letting out little breaths, hair messy and stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping down his face and onto his body. He was as spent as you felt.

He puled you closer and gave you the sweetest smile.

''Thank you'' he said, pecking your nose.

''I love you Lan, I never stopped. And i want to be with you. Forever. you cooed.

''I love you too baby, always, and thank you for giving me another change. I won't hurt you again. I promise.'' he said, kissing your knuckles.

You leaned against him, both content just being in each others' arms again, as you felt him soften in front of you.

''Shower?'' he said, smirking.

You grinned. ''Always,'' before kissing him for the millionth time tonight.

[arahdow]

BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR QUILLS !

Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. fluff, tiny silly argument in shadow’s, cuddling, overall soft stuff.

Word count. 1.6 k

A/N. writing sonic was the hardest thing i’ve ever done aH idk why!! i’ll make sure to write him more often to get used to his personality aH anywaaay, again, not beta read, i’m really sacrificing my sleep hours for this one sjdjs hope y’all like it!!

SONIC

making you run and accidentally crashing with him.

“Come on! You’re being too slow!” Sonic screamed as he kept on running, his feet moving way too fast for her liking. 

Just a few days ago, the blue hedgehog encouraged his partner to go out for a run together, and she knew he was an athletic man, but this? This was torture.

“Sonic… Wait… I can’t” her feet were moving so slow compared to his, especially when she wasn’t used to running this much. 

“One foot in front of the other! Come on!” Sonic said laughing, as he ran backwards, looking at the girl. She huffed with annoyance, the hedgehog still winning even when running like that!

After a while, the blue animal ran faster and almost disappeared from her sight. The girl took a deep breath and started running faster. Somehow, the fear of getting lost in the forest making her move, helping with adrenaline. Suddenly her body was moving faster than before. Way faster! 

Her body, sadly, started to grow tired quickly because of the energy she was using. Her lower limbs suddenly getting wobbly, but somehow kept running. Out of instinct, she thought.

That was until she realized she was about to crash into a stone wall at the end of the road, it was getting dangerously close!

The girl stretched her arms to cushion the blow. A violent ‘Hey!’ was all she could hear as she crashed, not on a stone wall, but rather a soft body. Sonic’s body to be clear.

He used his own body to soften the crash, but something was wrong.

“Ouch! Wha-”

She looked down and saw one of Sonic’s blue quills stuck on her shoulder. “Damn… Ouch.” 

The animal was sprawled upon her, but quickly recovered to take a look at his injured girlfriend. “Oh, I’m sorry darling,” he said with a sheepish smile, helping her stand up, careful not to mess with the quill. “but it’s kinda your fault to run that fast, thought you were about to destroy time and spac- Ouch! Why are you hitting me!” He said with a pained laugh.

“You’re an asshole! Help me get this out!” She complained, annoyed that the man was making fun of her.

“Aw, don’t be all grumpy, I promise not to make you run again.” He said, pushing her slightly to take her to the infirmary. “Hey, maybe next time you can try Shadow’s air shoe-”

“Don’t even finish that thought.”

SHADOW

silly old couple argument

“Move.” The girl didn’t reply, her gaze focused on the tv. “Get up.”

“Git ip.” she mocked.

The black hedgehog grumbled, sitting really close to her, almost on her.

“Hey-”

“This is my side of the couch, you know that.” He said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t like this channel.”

“You don’t like anything, Shadow.” She complained, not giving him the remote.

They’ve been living together for a year, two years being a couple, and they still bickered like an old couple. It became something usual between them, and it got even worse when speaking of the sofa. There was only this purple sofa in the living room, both her and Shadow liked it, but there was just something about the spot on the far left that was perfect. For both of them.

So if they were together in the house, it was usual for them to fight over the sofa spot, like they were doing now.

“I’m feeling hot, you need to get off of me!”

“I’m not on you, you’re the one occupying my place!”

“Shadow!” she pushed the hedgehog with her shoulder, as he pressed even harder on her.

With a huff, she turned and put her hands on him to push him again, when a quill suddenly pinched her hand. 

“Ow!” She exclaimed, looking at the dark quill stuck on her. “You can have your stupid place on the couch!” the girl said as she stuck her tongue and got up to the kitchen, looking for some tweezers to take the quill out.

Not many long after, the man got into the kitchen, following her, taking her arm in his hand. “Hey-”

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking intently at the sensitive red spot on her hand. Pressing his lips, he brought her hand under the faucet to clean the wound. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please forgive me.” 

The girl snorted. “It’s alright though, I was just messing with you, but you were seriously pressed, huh? Pressed enough to hurt me.” She said with a fake tone of hurt on her voice.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna let this down, are you?”

She gasped and whined, putting on a pouty face, “Ow! It hurts! Please! Why are you so mean to me?”

“Alright alright, you can have the couch for today.” He sighed, shaking his head with humor.

The girl smiled, her face expression going back to normal. Turning happily, the girl kissed his cheek before running to the couch. “Love you, Shads!” 

SILVER

cuddling after a long day but uh oh…

After a tiring day outside, he wanted nothing more than to be at home, eat the food his girl made for him and spend time with her. It was a simple plan, and the cherry on top? Cuddling with her on bed, his face pressed on her stomach as she threaded his quills.

It was a usual occurrence, both of them lying down in silence, sometimes him laying on her lap, sometimes her on his, but they spent most of their time cheek to cheek.

“Silver…” She whispered, afraid of disturbing him. But he didn’t reply, instead, a soft snore broke his silence.

The girl giggled a bit as she kept on caressing his face and quills. It was times like this where she found herself falling once again for her hedgehog lover. She was actually reading a book on her other hand, so her attention was mostly directed to it.

Being immersed on the story, she got really focused on the sentences, suddenly drifting off from her task on her other hand. She unconsciously made her limb move in erratic ways, as she tried to keep on doing both things at the same time.

That was until she felt a slight sting on her hand. Jolting, she yelped as she retreated her hand from his body. The movement was so sudden, Silver opened his sleepy eyes, sensing something wrong.

Leaning back enough so he could see his partner in the eye, he found instead a look of slight pain as she held her hand in front of her face, a silverish quill stuck on her palm.

“Oh chaos, dear, your hand!” He expressed, incorporating as he held her hand for a bit. Using his telekinesis, he brought the aid kit to bed. Doing a careful procedure, he took the quill out from her hand, making her hiss at the feeling.

“I’m sorry…” He said.

“Don’t be, it was my fault, I was completely distracted by the story.” She replied, looking at the book beside her.

Silver took a look, as he kept patching her hand. “Hey! That’s the book I recommended the other day!” 

“It is! And it’s so good! I really loved it when the protagonist saved the kids from the falling building.” 

“That was my favorite part too!” He said. Both of them laughed and kept on talking about the book. He was really happy to have her in his life.

KNUCKLES

It’s shedding season! And your roomie-bf is in the house!

Cleaning after an echidna warrior was difficult, especially when he kept bringing his dirty shoes inside her home, her food taken, and her bed occupied. But she honestly loved Knuckles company, so she carried on with it.

It was starting to get a whole lot colder outside, as the temperature began to cool down. It was that time of the year where the island became a little snowglobe, so the echidna spent more time at her partner’s home than anywhere else.

Today she needed to do the laundry, piles of dirty clothes started to form, and even though Knuckles tried to convince her to stop using clothes like him, that still wasn’t on her plans, at least not on a short term.

Sighing, she started to walk towards the laundry room, a pile of white clothes on her arms, making seeing the floor almost impossible. Knuckles was sleeping in her room, so she let him. She’ll make him fold the clothes afterwards either way. Sure, she’d let him crash whenever he needed it, but it came with a price.

Opening the door of the room, the girl stepped inside. But she wasn't ready to feel an electric pain coursing from the bottom of her feet to her core. A scared scream left her throat as the pile of clothes fell from her hands. Tripping, the girl fell on her butt with a thud. Not a second later, the echidna was already punching the laundry’s room door, breaking it. His breathing agitated as he saw his significant other on the floor.

“What happened?” He asked, worried that someone might have come into her home. 

The girl crawled, starting to search in between the clothes as she stumbled upon a red quill. Taking it in between her fingers, she showed it to the animal, furrowed eyebrows on her face.

Knuckles saw the quill with curious eyes. “You stepped on a quill of mine?” 

She threw the quill at him, half annoyed. “Of course I did! Don’t go around shedding your stuff please. Look! Now my foot hurts because of it.” She said as she looked at her now destroyed door. “And that too!” The mammal listened to her words, and before she could complain for anything else, he got closer to take the girl in his arms, an easy task for him, and brought her to the sofa. Laying her down, he put a gloved hand on his own chest.

“I’ll take care of the laundry to compensate for it.” He oathed, the girl surprised for his serious face, snorting in the process.

“That’d be nice.” She said, as she looked at her foot, not swollen or anything. “I could help you though-”

“No, you stay there.” He demanded as he strided to the laundry room.

A moment later, he came back stomping to the living room again. 

“Uhm… How does the machine that washes clothes works?”