#the mind will leave you running in circles.

[6ronze]

CALEB, THE FARSPACE COLONEL

AT THIS SHIP YOU WILL WITNESS … current!caleb & fem!reader. warning(s) -> MDNI. [18+ only]. needy/possessive caleb, might be ooc caleb, apple as a gag(?), squírtinğ, implied créámpîes, cûm eating, multiple órgáșms, cûnnilingúś, no plot, just smut, not proofread wordcount. 1.6k (kinda short cs idk much ab him yet & i dedicated my whole púśśy into this forgive me) tags. @ljubimaya

𝐻𝐸 𝑅𝐸𝒯𝒰𝑅𝒩𝒮 with single-minded determination to keep you near him at all times. Even with a 180 degree turn of his personality during his interrogation of you before, he assures you that protocol was the only reason for his brief change. Yet in the privacy of his room, he doesn’t exactly change to normal..

You didn’t know what brought you to the current situation you were in. To be more detailed, the situation you were in included you sprawled out on his bed, shirt bunched up beneath your chin with Caleb’s body hovering above you, burying his cock into you with reckless abandon. It all started with an innocent, heartfelt confession. But little did you know that calebs’ feelings would run so deep, so intense, to the point he had to have his mouth latch onto one of your tits, eagerly suckling on a nipple all the while his hips were unrelenting.

“W-wait, Caleb, please, I can’t cum again,” you whine with a sob, hands above you clinging onto his pillow for dearlife as he brought you to the brink of your nth orgasm. Caleb on the other hand seemed better than you despite the fact he would follow you every time you came, spilling his seed into your warm channel as if in sync. In truth, he wanted to cum the moment he slid inside your wet heat, but decided against it, wanting to come with you. “Yes you can, I know you can, sweet girl,” he mumbled persuasively sweet against your flushed skin, your tits aching in the best way in his squeezing hand and warm mouth.

“Caleb, Caleb, fuck—! I feel weird,” you sobbed with a drawn out moan, hips beginning to squirm at the unfamiliar feeling in lower belly. His cock was stretching you out so good, almost too good. You thought you were on the edge of another orgasm but it felt completely foreign to you, fearing that you might embarrass yourself if Caleb kept on going like this. But Caleb himself was undeterred. Instead, a knowing smile of satisfaction crept on his face at your pleas, knowing exactly what was coming. “Of course you are, baby,” he cooed softly, hand fondling your right breast slipping down your back to thumb over the sensitive nub of your clit, rubbing it quick, tight circles that made your body arch into him with a cry.

Your legs quivered and kicked weakly on Caleb’s hip all the while he was fucking into you like it was nobody’s business, eager to push more of his cum into your already fully pussy. He could feel the heels of your feet burying into his lower back, quivering with pleasure that he knew was unfamiliar to you until now. Until he brought it to you.

his touch was precise, coaxing but going above your limits to make sure he makes your mind blank out. And true to his intentions, you cried out, loud, arching off the bed with splutters of profanities leaving your lips along with a wail pleading of his name when the pace of his thrusts into you sopping cunt quickened along with the rub and pinches of the throbbing nub of your clit.

Your lips parted in a silent scream when you felt yourself squirting all over his thick cock, yours juices surely overflowing onto his pelvis and down his balls to drip onto the sheets, making you gasp repeatedly, velvety walls spasming uncontrollably around Caleb’s pitifully hard dick, making him hiss a heavy ‘shit’ before he fucked into you more, prolonging your orgasm to reach his own. His hips jerked erratically into you, balls drawn up tight with his incoming orgasm until he came to an abrupt stop, hand previously rubbing your nub now holding you down by your pelvis all the while his throbbing cock pulsed with each pump of cum into your already filled cunt, making sure to overflow you with his seed.

Caleb’s chest heaved with heavy breaths to catch his breath, pulling away from your boneless, sweat sheened body on the bed, with his length deeply sheathed inside your warm hole still. With a few more shallow thrusts, he finally pulled out, breathing out a moan at the erotic sight of his cum that made a ring around his base, your leaking slit no less sexy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot like.. Panting like a bitch in heat just for me,” caleb taunted, his own cheeks flushed red all the same along with his body coated with a thin layer of sweat like yours was on his bed, chest heaving from exertion. He couldn’t help the sly smirk that crept up his face, hand sliding down your thigh to pat the plush flesh there twice as if he was praising you, saying ‘good girl’.

Your pants died out and your breathing came back to normal, your limbs weak on the bed after a moment. Your lids felt heavy during the brief period when Caleb wasn’t doing to you, head burying into his pillow beneath your head to succumb to the sleep that called for you. But it seems like your supposed childhood friend had other plans for you.

“Urk..! Caleb.. what’re you doing now..” you slurred, mind still hazy from the mind blowing orgasm he gave you to process the tug he made on your leg. Your head lifted from the pillow weakly to see what he was doing standing off the edge of the bed, other hand moving to wrap around your other leg for another tug until you were close to the edge of the mattress.

“Shh.. get your rest. I’ll clean you up while you sleep, yeah?” the man with violet eyes shushed with a teasing lilt, reaching an arm over to grab one of his red apples nearby to bring them up to your lips, leaning forward to meet your half-lidded gaze. “Try not to be too loud.. I don’t want any of my colleagues coming over for a noise complaint,” he spoke in a near whisper, making the fresh red skin of the apple to kiss your equally succulent lips. You brought up a hand to hold the apple, letting him pull away. Yours brows furrowed at the implication that he wasn’t done, already biting down on the sweet fruit he gave you.

Leaving you oblivious, Caleb knelt between your legs that hung over the edge of his bed, positioning himself so he could lean in close to your pussy which he left in a mess, globs of his semen still oozing out to drip down the delicious curves of your ass. With eyes gleaming with unsated lust, he propped an arm under your thigh, the other hand pushing the other thigh further apart to give him access to your dripping cunt. He stopped pulling you apart when he could see your weakly clenching hole, head dipping to lick a firm stripe up the wet slit, making sure to flick over the clit too before repeated the action once more, though sloppier this time.

The evident shivers you made at his ministrations made him grin at the while he lapped up at the remnants of your juices that stained your folds, alternating between tongue-fucking your slick warm heat and sucking and biting on your sensitive nub for an extra boost of pleasure to shoot up your spine. Caleb’s gaze flickered up to your squirming form whenever he found the strength to peel his eyes off your filled pussy, scooping up his cum that he stuffed inside your used cunt to taste himself, then shove it back into you. The man could barely hear the muffled whines and whimpers you made whenever his slid his tongue as deep as it could go past your entrance, unrelenting with his pace, utterly absorbed in the act of pleasing you along with ‘cleaning’ you.

your earlier boneless body flared up again at the persistent strokes of caleb’s tongue on your wet heat, feeling his hand on your thigh knead your flesh and squeeze it tight whenever he lost himself in your depths for a long while before pulling away to get some air, only when he felt the unforgivable burn in his lungs. The way his nose grazed your neglected clit was equally unforgivable, only offering the nub a few kitten licks that nothing to sate its throbbing need for stimulation. Yet when he sensed your impending orgasm, it was as if a switch went off in his head, his focusing shifting to your pitiful clit to assault it with full force, nibbling and swirling his tongue around it relentlessly. The man was thankful he gave you that apple, or else the volumes of your cries at the delicious orgasm he was about to make you reach again would have escaped his room to the ears of his unsuspecting colleagues.

“For fuck’s sake, Caleb, slow, fuck..! Slow down..!” You thrashed your hips all over his face, grinding for dear life. You could feel your climax coming in, and it was coming in fast. You rocked your hips into his face a few more times before you brought the bite covered apple to your mouth for another full bite, throwing your head back with a hand gripping onto the pillow beside your head, an overwhelming sense of ecstasy washing over your body, barely able to overcome your sobs.

“I could make you cum all the damn hours of the day if I could, princess, fuck.. you did so well,” Caleb grinned against the damp folds of your pussy, half of his face smeared with your cum which he slurped with unrivalled eagerness. He pulled away from between your thighs to look up at you properly, curl of his lips growing only wider at the sight of your utterly passed out on his bed, his earlier praises falling to deaf ears.

[milkb0nny]

Don't Leave...

... kissing as an act of desperation

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader

Summary: You were unconscious after a demon attack, and the brothers worried terribly about you. Dean, so scared to lose you, confessed his love through a passionate kiss, hoping you'd wake up.

Note: Another kissing prompt, this one being a little darker. But my, I love this so much!

Content: reader not knowing Dean‘s love for her, Dean being anxious, comfort, angst, injuries, first kiss

Word count: ~1,4k

Unconscious and still, as if you were a corpse, you lay in the motel bed. Your limbs were close to your body, your body wrapped in the thick blanket, a heating pad close to your feet.

What had happened? Why were you in this state of emergency? Why weren’t you as lively as you usually were? All those questions remained unanswered to you, as you slept deeply, your breath slow and steady.

You had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for quite some time. Not that you actively participated in the hunts and dangerous activities; you were an excellent person with perfect social skills. You had developed into the person of the group who would speak with others to gather clues. You could read people as if they were an open book, making them spill out whatever their memories had hidden away.

Though, why were you in this state then? As your consciousness recovered, you heard voices in the background. You couldn’t focus on them at first, as your head hurt. A defeating ache circled from your forehead to your neck, making your mere presence terribly painful. You couldn’t open your eyes… everything felt like you were in a fever dream.

But then you were able to piece the mumbles into clear words, and the voices belonged to Sam and Dean. The dim light of the motel room flickered softly as Dean and Sam sat at the small table, the tension heavy in the air. The door to the bathroom was cracked open, and the faint sound of water running could be heard in the background.

Dean's eyes never left you, his hands tightly gripping the edge of the table.

Sam sat across from Dean, his voice calm but concerned, "Dean, we’ve been over this. She’s strong. She’s gonna be fine. You just need to give her time."

"Time? She could’ve died, Sam. You didn’t see the way she looked at me... like she was already slipping away." He paused, running a hand through his hair, his voice dropping lower. "I could’ve lost her. I almost did."

Why was Dean speaking so softly about you? Did he truly care so much about you?

"You’re not gonna lose her, Dean. She’s one of the toughest people I know. Sure, she can’t fight, but her mind is stronger than ours. She’ll make it."

"It’s not about being tough, Sam. She’s… she’s everything. I can’t lose her. I can’t. She means more to me than…" His voice caught, and he paused, trying to keep it together. "I don’t know what I’d do without her."

What did he say? Was this a dream?

Sam looked at his brother, his expression softer. He knew Dean’s soft spot... You. "You’re not gonna have to do that. You just need to give her time to heal. She’s not gone. She’s right there." He nodded toward the bed, where you acted as if you weren’t mentally available. You wanted to know more, but your body was too weak to move in any way.

Dean’s eyes flickered to you, his expression darkening. "I know. But what if she doesn’t wake up? What if…" He trailed off, his voice barely a whisper, raw with emotion.

He was at his lowest.

"What if I wasn’t fast enough? What if I couldn’t protect her like I should have?"

"Dean, you can’t blame yourself. You did everything you could. We all did. It’s the job. It’s dangerous. You know that. We couldn’t predict that demon breaking in somehow and doing that to her. But you also know she’s not the type to give up without a fight."

Dean nodded and softly agreed. "She fights. She always fights." His throat tightened, and he cleared it. "I don’t want to be the reason she has to keep fighting. I want to be the one who keeps her safe. I want to be the one who makes sure she doesn’t get hurt." He exhaled sharply, his voice barely audible. "I don’t know if I can live with myself if I fail her. She’s become family. More than that."

Sam sighed, looking at you, so peacefully lying there. "I know, man. But you’ve gotta stop torturing yourself. She’s gonna wake up, and when she does, you’re gonna be the first thing she needs. She’s not gonna want you beating yourself up."

There was a long silence between them, the weight of Dean’s worry thick in the air. Your heart was racing. Hearing all those words coming from Dean was like being struck, like you’d fallen victim to Cupid’s arrow. However, it felt illegal listening to them, especially since they didn’t know you heard everything.

Sam stood up, his voice gentle. "She’s not gone, Dean. She’s right here. And when she wakes up, you’ll be right here for her. Just like always. I’ll get some more painkillers and dinner for us. Call me when she wakes up."

Dean didn’t respond at first, his eyes glued to you. He was still struggling, the fear of losing you overwhelming his every thought. But Sam’s words seemed to sink in, just enough to make him take a breath. Dean stood up slowly, moving toward the bed, his gaze softening as he kneeled beside you.

Quietly, Sam disengaged from the motel room, driving off in the Impala.

Dean was so close to you, his smell embedding you in a dream. Your body felt so warm, as if you were burning from the inside.

Dean whispered, almost to himself, "Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. I need you. I need you to be okay."

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb gently tracing over your skin. His voice trembled, but he kept it steady.

"I can’t do this without you."

The room fell silent once more, with only the sound of your steady breaths filling the space.

Dean looked down at you, his gaze soft but filled with a sharp kind of pain. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were pressed against your very own.

The kiss was brief but laden with everything he was feeling: the fear, the relief, the need to feel your warmth against him. It was a kiss that trembled with the desperation of someone who had almost lost you.

He needed you, and silently confessing to you was his sort of comfort. He needed to feel your warmth in some way, to prove you weren’t vanishing from his life.

But then, as if unable to help himself, he leaned in further, his lips brushing softly over yours, tasting the sweetness of you, desperate for a connection. You could feel the heat of his kiss, but you couldn’t respond… not yet. You were too far gone in the haze of unconsciousness, barely aware of the world around you.

Suddenly, you felt a hot tear drop onto your face, one that didn’t belong to you, but to the man who was craving your life.

"Don’t do that to me. Please don’t leave me."

His words broke through the fog in your mind, and though you were still too weak to move, there was a stirring inside you… a pull, a recognition of what was happening. Dean kissed you again, this time deeper, slower, as if trying to pour all of his emotions into the kiss.

Oh, how he missed you already. His hands slid around your neck, cupping your face as he poured his fear, his regret, his love into you.

Your eyes fluttered beneath your eyelids, the sensation of Dean’s lips lingering. You tried to open your eyes, but it was hard; everything was still a blur.

Dean pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged and uneven.

"God, I need you to wake up. Please."

You finally managed to open your eyes, the world coming into focus just enough for you to see the look of sheer desperation on his face. His green eyes were wide.

Dean froze, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at you, his lips parting in disbelief. For a moment, time seemed to stop… his expression softening, the tension melting away as he processed the fact that you were still with him.

"You’re… you’re awake."

You nodded slowly, trying to smile despite the pain in your body. But Dean didn’t smile back right away. Instead, he pressed his lips to your forehead, his breath shaky as he whispered something to himself.

"Thank god…"

Your heart clenched at his words, and you reached up, placing your hand over his. The simple touch seemed to ground him, to remind him that you were still here, still with him. Dean looked down at you, his eyes soft, yet still filled with so much emotion. And for a moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.

Dean exhaled, a breath of relief, and this time, when he smiled at you, it was full of love, full of life, and full of the hope that you’d always be by his side.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎*

Pairing: Hybrid!Jisung x Hybrid!Seungmin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Thruple, 3Some, Double P, Oral (F), Slight Somnophilia, Biting, Knotting Mentions, Slight Breeding Kink, Slight Choking, Creampie, Squirting, Unprotected sex. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

A/N: this has been plaguing my mind for- so long. Also yes always gonna be on that hybrid shit sue me lol

-🖤

You were in a deep sleep, sprawled out on the couch waiting for your boyfriends to come home. They had just made a food run leaving sleepy you all alone. Your dreams playing on repeat. Oh the dream. You were being chased through the woods your hybrids chasing after you. Ready to catch you and breed you. You let out a soft moan in your sleep. Panties becoming increasingly wet as it played out.

Your hand slipped down slowly playing with your clit making you whine even more. Unbeknownst to you the door opened as the boys came in they stopped in their tracks. They could smell you so strongly, almost in an instant becoming hard. They placed the food down quickly before coming to find you still deep in your sleep. Fingers now slightly playing with your entrance. You moaned out once again mumbling “breed me”.

“She must be having a good dream of us” Seungmin chuckled. Jisungs eyes were almost blown out. He was never one to be able to control himself around you. Hearing those words fall from your mouth had his head spinning with lust. He wasted no time leaving seungmin standing there. He pushed your legs apart, pulling down your panties trying not to wake you. He quickly made his way to your core tongue ever so slightly running up your folds.

You moaned out but still not waking. “God- she’s- soaked” Jisung groaned. He couldn’t hold back. Not when you were like this, not when you were dripping. He pulled your body down to him arms wrapping around your thighs as he buried himself fully into your cunt. He inhaled deeply taking you all in before his tongue was diving into you. You squeaked, eyes groggily opening. You blinked looking over at seungmin who stood near with a smirk. Before you felt jisung leave a small nibble to your clit.

Your head fell back to the couch moaning loudly, hands making their way to Jisungs soft hair. He looked up at you with those big boba eyes. Full of lust and want. You rolled your hips against his mouth making his groan into your core. Seungmin finally made his way towards you cupping your face in his big hands. “Having a good dream pup?” He asked. You nod eyes fluttering open and close at the pleasure. “About us?” He questions.

“Always-“ you say breathily. He can’t help but grin. Before you know it his lips were crashing against yours hand sliding down your body. He pulled up the shirt you had on, his shirt to be exact. Revealing your perky nipples ready to be pinched and bit at his mercy. But he bypassed them, for now. He pulled his shirt from you leaving you completely nude. His hand found its way back to your soft skin once more moving down to draw circles around your clit. Jisungs tongue lapped at your entrance as Seung played with your overly sensitive clit.

“Close already aren’t you love?” Seungmin says against your Lips. You nod quickly feeling your climax building fast.

“Need-“ you whine out.

“What do you need pup, use your words” he cooed.

“Both- need- ah- both” you manage to stammer out as your orgasm hit you hard. Your legs clamp around Jisung which turns him on even more. He laps at every inch of you not letting a single drop of your sweet honey go to waste. You didn’t notice until now how he had already taken his pants off. His leaky cock rutting against the couch sure to cause a stain.

Seungmin was about to ask a question however Jisung was already positioning himself at your entrance. Gliding his cock up and down your folds to collect any bit of slick left. He pushed into you quickly making you both cry out. Your walls sucked him in deep, so warm and snug. “Ah- jisung!” You moaned. His fluffy tail swaying back in forth almost keeping with the rhythm as he fucked into you mercilessly. His hands gripping at your hips digging his nails into them. Sure to add to the already fading bruises from the nights before.

“Pull her up a bit yeah?” Seungmin asks. Jisung does pulling your body into his as his thrust become a bit slower but much deeper. Seungmin slots himself behind you after ridding himself of his own clothes. He pulls your body back to him your back now resting on his chest. His long tail wrapping around your leg keeping him almost grounded. He slides his cock to your entrance before slowly easing himself into you.

Sure they loved having you to themselves but there was something about the way your cunt became like a vise grip. That always had them wanting to double you. You’d never complain either, it might be one of the hottest things ever. Having both of your hot hybrids deep inside you. “Fuck you’re so wet” Seungmin groaned. They both found a rhythm moving their hips in perfect harmony to have all three of you wrecked.

Seungmins hand came around your neck softly turning your head. “Tell us what you were dreaming of love” he said his voice low. You could feel his warm breath against your ear. “About- about you both. Chasing me- and ah-“ you croak out.

“And what hmm?”

“And breeding me” you whine.

Jisungs head falls back moaning at your words. His pace quickens making seungmin speed up as well. “Our- pretty pup wants- us to breed her.” Jisung almost growls.

“Want us to pump you full of a litter” Seungmin groans.

“Fuck- yes please- I can take both of them- please kn- knot me” your second orgasm was about to hit. And hit hard.

The men weren’t doing any better you could see the drool running down Jisungs chin. Both the men’s nails digging into you holding onto what sanity they had left. Seungmin could feel that you were close, your cunt squeezing them tightly. “Jisung” he said looking at the man above. He nodded knowing what he was hinting at. He leaned down mouth at your shoulder. Seungmins head nuzzled into your neck before you knew it their teeth sunk into you.

It was something hybrids did while mating. Something they knew you loved, that would bring you over the edge. And it did just that. You let out a silent scream, body shaking between them. You came hard, Tears falling to your cheek. A strewn of curse left their mouths before almost like they read each others minds. Pushed deep into you both knotting you together. It was too much already so sensitive. You were squirting, warm fluid coating Jisungs lower body.

Their cocks twitching inside you as they painted your walls. You felt so- full. After a few minutes of panting and soft kisses. Jisung pulled out of you first wobbling to get some water. Seungmin took the opportunity to wrap his arms tightly around you kissing you lovingly. “You did so well, can’t believe you actually took both” he admitted. “I’ll have to remember that when we both go into heat.” He says with a light chuckle.

Jisung came back pressing the glass to your lips. “You guys got food right?” You ask making them both laugh. “Hungry?” Seungmin asked.

“Starving.”

“Good eat up, cause we are definitely doing that again” Jisung said with a chuckle. Oh boy was it definitely gonna be a long night.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[shysuccubusstuff]

Boyfriend! Caleb:

Content: SFW headcanons; jealousy

Note: Thanks for this one fanart of Caleb falling for MC's tactics just cause he loves her too much. Have you all noticed that I'm now turning to more SFW content? I feel as if I'm turning from a crow into a dove--. Btw, thanks for all those who like, comment and reblog my content, it makes me feel very happy!! Hope everyone is having a great week.

Caleb, who suddenly returns after his apparent death, face just as handsome as the one you saw every night in your dreams. He returns to you just as suddenly as you both met, and as you go rushing to hug him, you notice something strange in his demeanor. His face is smiling, yet it is apparent that there is something else in his gaze... some kind of hunger, something primal that he had been trying to lock away.

Caleb, who starts to act cold towards you, trying to run away from every little physical contact you tried to do, his mind still conflicted as he was now aware of what had truly brought the two of you together. It wasn't Josephine's love for the two, but something much more obscure... something that he was trying to keep hidden from you as long as he could try, at least.

Caleb, who starts to warm up to you. He starts to allow your touches, even if these are just minimal, but what starts with light brushes between each other's fingertips, soon turns into the both of you holding hands, with you creating excuses such as: "being afraid of getting separated in the middle of the Glint Photoboot" or "needing some comfort as you have grown scared of the darkness". Despite Caleb's head moves in disagreement, he does as you ask him, taking your hand and enveloping your whole hand with his as he lets a whisper escape his lips: "You never change...".

Caleb, who starts to go back to his old ways. Caleb's hands are always there for you, reaching out in case you trip while walking. Other times, his hands are held out for you while the two of you share a little treat together, his hands playing with yours as he listens to you speak about how today's work was much more difficult than usual, or how you really wanted to check that new place that had recently opened in the city center.

Caleb, who almost falls to his knees the moment he hears your confession. The two of you were drinking some tea at your place while watching some corny old soap opera, when you suddenly spoke those words: "I wouldn't mind us becoming a couple." He looks at you for a few seconds, his shock being apparent as his hands start to shake a bit, he moves closer to you, just enough for him to see your full face. "...What... what do you mean by that?" Caleb's purple orbes lock with yours, face slightly flushed as he tries his best not to burn his hand with the recently boiled water that he was carring inside the teacups. "I love you, Caleb, wasn't I clear enough during all these months?" Caleb's face becomes even redder, his hands start to shake even more, quickly leaving the cups in case he would actually spill them. "I... I just thought you were still thinking about our childhood--- I never imagined that you would actually--..." Caleb's words start to blend with each other, his mind rushing as he tried to understand everything that was going on at that moment. Irritated, you suddenly approached him, your hands locking behind his neck just so you could pull him closer, your lips crashing against his in a fast kiss.

B! Caleb, who finally surrenders to your approaches, allowing himself to become more and more starved. His hands start to move from your hands to your hips, his thumbs making small circles over it as he waited for you to stop talking with that grey haired man that lived nextdoor. Caleb standing behind you as he keeps glaring at him with an unamused look, his arms wrapping around your waist as a less threatening way of showing his closer position as not only your childhood friend, but your boyfriend.

B! Caleb who loves posting things with you. He is the kind of guy who loves having a private yet public relationship, the one that loves posting photos of the two of you, always avoiding showing your face in case someone of his work tried to get a bit too close to you. he just can't help it you know? Having a pretty girlfriend is so hard when he has to keep restraining himself from trying to get you as attached to him as possible.

B! Caleb who loves sharing the bed with you, his hands wrapping around you as he nuzzles against the crook of your neck, his hair tickling you as he starts to doze off, his breath slowly steading as he is finally able to rest. After twisting and turning for over ten minutes, you were about to get up, but just as you were about to do so, Caleb started to grunt, his nose scrunching as he started to hug you with more strength as you kept trying to get him to release you. "...Don't go... I love you." Caleb's grip only tightens, one of his legs suddenly wrapping around yours as if he was some kind of trap. "Just sleep... shhh." In the end, you have to surrender, moving a bit just so you could hide your face on the curve of his neck, his comforting scent making you feel at ease and slowly making you drift to sleep.

[nevvae]

Sevika the freaka.....freaks 😝!

^face fucking, spit kink, pussy spanking, fingering, full nelson, biting, face sitting, porn no plot!, strap on, sevika refers to strap as cock!

Hey sillies..., have you ever wanted to do a whole lot of things with sevika, me too.. all the time 😝!!

Smut under☆! Minors, nopey pls 😕!

‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨���୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Sevika's thumb glides over your bottom lip and pushes past it to press flat against your tongue. "Come on, doll," she hums, rubbing the length of her strap-on against your cheek. Her thumb delves further into your mouth, as a muffled whimper escapes past her finger, your hands instinctively reach up to grasp her thighs. "Keep 'em to yourself, pretty," your hands immediately return to your thighs, nails digging into the skin while you suckle on her thumb, your back arching to push into her touch.

Sevika pulls her thumb from your mouth, teasingly flicking your bottom lip before running her saliva-coated thumb over your lips, leaving a glistening trail of your saliva on your face. her hand trails down, splaying over your throat, the cool touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Ready to take my cock, sweet thing?" she asks, a smug grin spreading over her face as she taps the tip of her purple strap against your lips. You part your lips, wrapping them around the blunt head; Sevika's hands on your throat trail up to grip the back of your hair, and her powerful hips snap forward, burying the strap down your throat in one brutal thrust. You gag and sputter, nails digging deeper into your skin.

The wet sounds of your gagging only spur her on, and she snaps her hips forward harder and faster. Your throat tightens around her, and saliva trickles down the corners of your mouth. You struggle to catch your breath, gasping and moaning as she moves. Drool glistens and falls from her strap each time she withdraws from your lips.

Sevika's thrusts only seem to grow harsher with each sound you make, filling the room with the sound of her cock hitting the back of your throat. Your hands scramble up, grasping her thighs tightly, your face contorting in a desperate attempt to breathe. Sevika stills, grips your hair, and wrenches you away from her strap. You struggle, tears streaking your eyes as you suck in big breaths while wiping at the spit spilling down your chin. She tsks disapprovingly, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint.

"What I say about your hands," she scolds. You tense up, pulling your hand away from her thighs rashly; Sevika chuckles, "It's too late doll, was going to reward you for taking my cock so well, but seems like my girl wants to be punished," she grumbles, her hand reaching out to cup your face. "On your feet," she grumbles." Your knees tremble as you rise to your feet, the air heavy with tension and anticipation. Sevika manhandles you onto her lap, her chest pressing against your back, the length of her strap pressing against your wet core.

Sevika's strong hands part your thighs farther apart, gently squeezing the supple flesh. Your breath catches in your throat, and your thighs quiver, a mix of fear and desire coursing through your body. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?" She grunts against your neck, her middle and ring fingers tracing over your folds. Your mind races with conflicting emotions as you obediently nod, your head resting against her shoulder, chest heaving nervously. Her other hand trails, cupping your bare chest and squeezing her thumb rubbing gentle circles over your nipples.

She leans down, catching you in a kiss as she slides her strong, calloused hand between your legs and delivers a hard and heavy smack against your aching core. You yelp into the kiss, thighs slamming shut around her hand. Sevika deepens the kiss, her hand on your chest squeezing warningly. You whimper a mumbled apology into the kiss and then part your thighs. Sevika pulls away to huff against your lips, teasingly "Being my good girl, again, huh?" Before you can respond, she cuts you off with another hard spank, causing your head to slam back into her shoulder with a whiny moan, and your body to tense up.

Sevika chuckles as she parts your folds with her fingers, revealing your swollen clit. She circles it with the tip of her fingers, grazing over it gently. You whine, your thighs stuttering to squeeze around her hand. She lifts her fingers and spanks them against your sensitive clit. You jump in her lap with a choked-out cry. The hand on your chest runs to splay over your stomach and hips, keeping you pressed up against her while her fingers continue their ministrations against your swollen, sensitive flesh, alternating between gentle rubs and harder smacks that make you jump.

Sevika's fingers slam down one last time. As you sob into her shoulder, your body shaking, Sevika grins wickedly before plunging two thick fingers into your core, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "took your punishment so well" she whispers softly, curling them against the sensitive spot that makes you squirm and writhe, sending shivers down your spine."I think you need a reward."

You feel a rush of warmth as Sevika's fingers glide inside you, the slickness of your desire coating her as she expertly hits that sweet spot repeatedly. Every muscle in your body tenses with each powerful thrust, causing you to jerk and convulse uncontrollably.

Her thumb rubs against your clit in tight circles. "This is what you needed, isn't it? My fingers fucking you stupid,” you yelp, your hand scrambling to grip her arm, head rolling back on her shoulder. She doesn't relent, her fingers pistoning in and out of you at a frantic pace, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You feel your thighs tremble as a coil tightens in your lower stomach, your hips instinctively grinding and rolling against her skillful touch.

Sevika grins, grinding her fingers inside you before resuming her thrust, fingers plunging deeply as she can, with the heel of her palm, rocking over your clit. As a strangled cry escapes your lips, your heels dig into the bed, your back arching into her fingers, you tremble, the pressure in your stomach becoming unbearable. You let out a broken moan as her fingers suddenly withdraw, a wave of cruel disappointment washing over you, shattering the peak of your pleasure. Your hand grips tightly in her hair, the hand on her arm falls uselessly to your side. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you look up at Sevika's tears welling in the corner of your eyes. Your kiss-swollen lips are parted, your throat is parched, and all you can manage is a desperate plea. "Please...” There's a familiar teasing glint in Sevika's eyes, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk.

"I’m so fucking close… Sev, please," your voice is a needy whine, thighs trembling. "Want you cumming on my cock," she grunts out, rocking the forgotten toy against your inner thigh; your breath hitches, grinding back against it, needing the friction. Sevika bares her teeth and sinks them into the soft flesh of your neck. You hiss, the pain mingling with the unspent desire building in you and making your head spin. Your hand tightens in Sevika's hair, your hips rolling and grinding over her strap, yelping as the tip bumps against your sensitive clit. Sevika watches you, with one hand running down your side and the other gripping your hips, grinding her strap against your soaked folds.

Sevika lifts her hips, rubbing the blunt tip of her strap against your entrance. You whine needily, pressing back against the cool silicone; Sevika pulls your body back against her, hands spreading your thighs wider as she hooks her chin over your shoulder to watch the way your cunt stretches around her length. She grunts as she thrusts her hips forward, fully burying the strap inside you. You let out a sharp cry as your hips instinctively jerk back from the overwhelming force of her thrust, feeling a surge of sensation coursing through you.

Every inch of Sevika's strap stretches you, with the silicone finding all the right spots inside you, and the flared base snugly resting against your swollen folds, intensifying your arousal.

"Oh god... oh god," you pant out, thighs trembling. Sevika sneers, stirring the strap inside you, hands tightening their grip on your thigh. Your mind goes blank, seeing stars; no matter how many times you do this, you always feel so full, so stretched. You can feel her strap moving inside you, rubbing against your inner walls in just the right way.

"Move... please," You whine in frustration as she remains still, rocking your hips back to fuck yourself on her strap, Sevika's grip on your thigh only tightening, holding you in place. "Please... I need," you moan desperately, your body shaking with an unmistakable need, the pressure overwhelming, tears of frustration already welling in your eyes.

"So impatient," Sevika tuts, leaning back on the bed and taking you along with her, her hands spreading your thighs wider, hooking her arms under and round your thighs, and pressing them against your chest. The shift in positions prompts the strap inside you to adjust, pushing even deeper into you with an almost unbearable intensity. Sevika plants her feet, slowly withdrawing until only the tip of the strap remains inside you before slamming back in. She sets a relentless pace, the sound of the skin of her thighs smacking against your ass filling the room. Each powerful thrust elicits a sharp cry from you, causing your body to convulse with each forceful movement. "Look at you taking my cock like such a good girl..." She shifts her angle slightly, hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your whole body jump. "That feel good, baby?"

You nod desperately, hands desperately clinging to Sevika's arms, your manicured nails digging into her skin. Sevika hisses, a grin spreading across her face as she keeps you tightly pinned against her, your nails digging into her skin further fueling her desire. Each thrust hits that deep, sensitive spot within you, igniting a surge of pleasure that overwhelms your senses, causing you to see stars and tearing yelps and squeaks from your throat.

Sevika's hands tighten their grip on your thighs, forcefully pushing them against you, her own thighs tensing as she grunts into your ear. Observing her thick shaft as it slides deep inside your wet heat. She bares her teeth, sinking them into your neck. The sharp pain mingles with intense pleasure as her tongue flicks out to lick the beads of blood pooling around the bite. She pounds you with increased force, eliciting a scream of pleasure and pain from you. "You're being such a good girl taking my big cock, aren't you?", Your body trembles, head falling back on Sevika's shoulder. You feel the rumble of her grunts in your ear, accompanied by the wet sounds of her thighs slapping against your ass. Your words escape in a breathless gasp as your hips jerk and buck erratically.

"m'close...” you choke out, your voice strained with desire and need. "Yeah? You're going to cum all over my cock, sweet thing." Her words send you to the edge as you clamp down around the strap.

"Fuck... I'm... I'm." your voice rises in pitch, your frame shaking against her body helplessly as a powerful orgasm overwhelms your senses; you cry out, and your pussy spasms rhythmically around her length, juices gushing around her strap. Your vision whites out, head rolling back to Sevika's shoulder.

As you come down from your high, Sevika positions you on your back skillfully removes the strap, and straddles your face. Despite the lingering tremors of your orgasm, you eagerly part your lips, extending your tongue flat towards Sevika, while gazing up at her heaving chest. "My good girl," she huffs out, sinking her human hand into your hair and settling her drooling cunt over your mouth.

A muffled moan escapes your lips as the musky scent of her fills your nose; your tired arms wrap around her thighs as you begin pleasuring her with renewed energy, savoring the juices leaking from her soaked folds, swirling your tongue around her clit, and drawing it into your mouth. "My tired baby, so eager to please," Sevika pants out, accompanied by soft groans, while her hand tightens in your hair.

You moan around her clit, redoubling your effort at the praise, tongue swirls and flicks with devotion, trying to push your tongue as deep as possible, eager to taste every drop. Sevika's hips stutter as she chokes out grunts and low moans of pleasure, her heavy thighs tremble on either side of your head, her low grunt turning into breathless moans.

The sounds she makes, along with her taste and scent, drive you forward, urging you to bring her closer and press your face intimately against her core. Sevika's hips begin to move in a rocking and grinding motion over your mouth; her actions grow more frantic with each choked-out moan that escapes her throat. She grips your hair, her hips, bucking once, twice, as she cums with a low groan. You gasp and sputter as she thrusts against your face, her fluids flowing down your throat, the warmth spreading across your cheeks and chin, leaving a sticky trail behind.

Sevika lifts herself off you, slumping in beside you on the sheets. You lie beside her; your face is covered in her release. The room is quiet except for the sound of the two of you catching your breath. Sevika reaches over, wiping her release off your face, with her fingers and pressing it to your lips. You tilt your head to kiss the tip of her fingers before accepting them into your mouth, relishing the salty, musky flavor.

^ aftercare right here 😼!

[memorabxlia]

All I Want for Christmas Is You ━ 홍중

genre: fluff (just a tad), smut summary: after getting stranded in your car during a winter storm with Hongjoong, you find other means to pass the time warnings: est relationship, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap up irl!), car sex (defintely forgot something) pairing: nonidol!hongjoong x fem!reader wc: 1.9k a/n: DAY 4!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The wind howled outside, slamming against the windows of your car like a wild animal trying to break in. Snowflakes swirled in chaotic spirals, obscuring the road ahead and coating everything in a thick blanket of white. You tugged your coat tighter around you, but it was no use—the cold had already seeped into your bones. The heater sputtered weakly, barely holding its own against the storm.

“Hongjoong,” you murmured, your teeth chattering as you glanced at him in the driver’s seat. His hands were still gripping the wheel, even though the car hadn’t moved in what felt like hours. “How long do you think we’re going to be stuck here?”

He exhaled sharply, his breath visible in the frigid air. “I don’t know. The tow truck said they’d come as soon as they could, but…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the windshield. “This isn’t exactly ideal weather for rescuing stranded idiots.”

You snorted despite yourself. “Speak for yourself. You’re the one who thought driving through this was a good idea.”

Hongjoong shot you a look, his dark brows knitting together in mock offense. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? Remind me again who begged to stop for ‘just one more coffee’ before we left?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the grin tugging at his lips stopped you. Even in the middle of a snowstorm, half-frozen and completely stranded, he had a way of making you forget everything else. Your fiancé’s sharp features were softened by the dim glow of the dashboard lights, his black hair tousled from running his fingers through it in frustration. His leather jacket clung to his shoulders, and you couldn’t help but notice how the faint sheen of sweat on his skin caught the light.

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling warmer than you had a moment ago. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m partially to blame.”

“Partially?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. His voice dropped, low and teasing. “Try fully.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing now. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the tension thickening like the snow piling up outside. You reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re such a brat, you know that?”

His smirk widened, and before you could react, he caught your hand in his. His touch was warm, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “And yet, here you are. Stuck with me.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the faint thrum of the engine. Hongjoong’s gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and you felt a familiar heat stir deep within you. It wasn’t just the cold making you shiver anymore.

“You’re staring,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm.

“So are you,” he countered, his thumb tracing slow circles on your palm. His touch was maddening, deliberate and unhurried, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. “What are you thinking about?”

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. “That maybe… we should find a way to pass the time.”

“Oh?” His eyes darkened, and his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. “And what did you have in mind?”

You didn’t answer—not with words, anyway. Instead, you leaned in, closing the gap between you until your lips were just a breath apart. Hongjoong’s sharp intake of air was the only warning you got before he closed the distance, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.

It was all fire and need, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the other found your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh through the fabric of your jeans. You gasped into his mouth, your hands flying to his chest to steady yourself, but that only seemed to spur him on. He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “Tell me what you want,” before reclaiming your lips with a fierceness that left you breathless.

Your mind raced, torn between the rational part of you that knew this was madness and the part that didn’t care. The storm raged on outside, but inside the car, the only thing that mattered was the way Hongjoong’s body pressed against yours, the way his touch set your skin ablaze.

“God, Hongjoong,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I want—”

Before you could finish, he cut you off with another kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your toes curl. His hands moved lower, slipping under the hem of your sweater to explore the bare skin underneath. The contrast between his warm palms and the icy air sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into his touch with a soft moan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, not when his lips were trailing kisses along your jaw, not when his hands were roaming your body with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. Instead, you let your actions speak for you, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until your hands met the hard planes of his chest. His skin was hot beneath your fingertips, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

Hongjoong groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you into his lap. The steering wheel dug into your back, but you barely noticed—not when his erection was pressing insistently against your thigh, not when his lips were skimming over the curve of your ear.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his voice rough with desire. “That’s all for you.”

You whimpered, grinding against him instinctively. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. “Joong—”

“Tell me,” he demanded, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your pants. “Tell me you want this.”

You nodded frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pulled your jeans down just far enough to expose your wetness to the cold air. “Yes, yes, please—”

“Good girl,” he purred, his fingers slipping between your folds to tease you with maddening precision. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, as he added, “Now let me hear you.”

You arched into him, desperate for more friction, more heat, more of him. The car windows were fogged up from your ragged breaths, the world outside forgotten as the storm raged on. All that mattered was the way his fingers curled inside you, stroking just right to make your hips jerk uncontrollably.

“Joong—” you gasped, clutching at his arm. “I can’t—please—”

“Can’t what?” he taunted, his voice low and rough. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, and you moaned at the sensation. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you open for him as he worked you relentlessly. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

You whined, your head falling back against the seat as pleasure coiled tight in your core. “I need you,” you begged, your voice trembling. “I need you inside me, Joong—please.”

Hongjoong’s eyes darkened, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Since you asked so nicely…” He withdrew his fingers, leaving you whimpering at the loss, and shifted in the cramped space of the car. His hands fumbled with his belt buckle, the sound of it unbuckling sending a jolt of anticipation through you.

When he finally pushed down his jeans, freeing his hard length, you couldn’t help but reach for him. Your fingers wrapped around him, stroking lightly, and he hissed through clenched teeth. “Fuck, you’re impatient,” he muttered, though the way his hips bucked into your touch betrayed his own desperation.

You smirked up at him, even as your pulse raced. “You like it.”

He growled, catching your wrist and pinning it above your head. “Careful,” he warned, his tone playful but edged with hunger. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re not exactly spoiled for space here. Thought you might appreciate me taking my time.”

You bit your lip, squirming under his hold. “Take your time later,” you urged, dragging your free hand down his chest. “Right now, I just need you.”

Hongjoong groaned, releasing your wrist to brace himself against the car seat. He positioned himself between your legs, his tip brushing against your slick entrance, and you shivered at the contact. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with concern despite the tension thick in the air.

You nodded, lifting your hips to meet his. “Yes,” you breathed. “I’m sure.”

With a low growl, he sank into you in one slow, torturous thrust. The stretch was exquisite, filling you completely, and you gasped out his name as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust. His forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged as he fought to keep control.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Always so perfect for me.”

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move. The pace was steady at first, each stroke deep and deliberate, but it didn’t take long for his restraint to fracture. His thrusts grew faster, harder, the sound of skin against skin mixing with the howling wind outside. The car rocked slightly with the force of them, but neither of you cared.

Every nerve in your body was alight, every touch, every kiss, every word from his lips driving you closer to the edge. His mouth found yours again, kissing you hungrily as he fucked you with relentless intensity. You could feel the coil inside you tightening, winding tighter and tighter until—

“Joong, I’m close,” you panted, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his shoulder. “Please—don’t stop—”

He chuckled darkly, slowing his pace just enough to drive you mad. “Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire. “Tell me how much you want to come.”

You let out a frustrated whine, your hips jerking up to chase his. “Please, Joong, I need it—want to come for you—need you to make me—”

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand slipping between your bodies to circle your clit. His touch was electric, and combined with the way he filled you, it was too much. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body shaking as you cried out his name.

Hongjoong swore under his breath, his own release hitting him hard. He buried himself deep inside you, his movements growing erratic as he followed you over the edge. For a moment, everything was quiet except for the sound of your mingled breaths and the faint creak of the car settling.

He collapsed against you, his weight pressing you into the seat, but you didn’t mind. His lips brushed against your neck, trailing lazy kisses as he murmured, “Told you we’d find a way to pass the time.”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “You were right,” you admitted, though your smile faded as you glanced out the fogged-up window. The storm showed no signs of letting up, and the thought of someone finding you both like this sent a rush of embarrassment through you. “What if—?”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted, his tone reassuring. “We’ll hear them coming.” He kissed you again, slow and sweet, before adding with a mischievous grin, “Besides, I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath caught at the promise in his words, and before you could respond, his hands were already moving again, exploring, teasing. “Joong—”

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips tracing the curve of your ear. “Let me take care of you.”

❥﹒ ateez taglist: @casemoa143 @minkilicious @lice

[atzhrts]

anton is so broad and large and i just wanna feel him up and kiss his chest and lick him all over and i wanna run my fingers through his hair and pet him and tell him how pretty he is while he just looks at me with those big brown eyes 😵‍💫 and i wanna scratch his back while he falls asleep and leave him little kisses along the way

he is sooooooo hot and sexy and he makes me crazy for REAL i need him so bad… but i also just wanna hold him and take care of him because he’s my baby

you’re so real anon. i really really have a thing for broad muscular backs and anton is really proving that over and over again. multiple thoughts 🤞🏻 because #needthat

—

anton letting himself into your room and making a beeline for your bed. slightly widening his legs more to make space for you as he watches you walk over to him. his hands immediately flying to your waist, brown eyes staring up at you and you swear the light almost makes them sparkle. your hands thread through his hair, soft strands slightly getting stuck every now and then as anton let’s out content little sighs. his thumb rubs circles into your waist and his eyes threaten to close from the soothing feeling of you fingers on your scalp.

“i love you” he mumbles into your skin as you pull his head against your stomach, anton’s hands tightening around your waist.

“i love you too baby” you feel his lips form a smile against your body at the pet name

—

you knew performances were exhausting but you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much work went into a concert like sm town. so all you wanted to do is treat your boyfriend, make him relax and let him know what a good job he did. telling him to take off his shirt as soon as he walks through the door, anton’s expression perplexed as his mind runs through possibilities to gently let you know he’s too tired tonight.

“wanted to surprise you and give you a massage” you pout and anton mirrors your expression as he realizes he spoilt your surprise. gentle voice telling you he is sorry before following you into your bedroom and taking off his shirt. laying down on your bed, face pressed into your comforter exposing his muscular back.

he’d jump slightly as he feels the cold oil against his skin and you start to work at the knots under his skin. pressing little kisses against his back as you work your way down and you feel anton shiver under you as you run your nails over his skin, erupting goosebumps.

“feels really good baby, thank you” his low voice disappears into the fabric of your comforter underneath him.

[sanjisprincesss]

Catch me if you can

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Dick Grayson (nightwing) x Blackcat! reader

Content: come to find out Dick Grayson does enjoy a good chase. Fluff

ׂ╰┈➤ warnings: flirting nothing to crazy.

The rooftops of Gotham stretched endlessly before you, dark and chaotic, like the city itself. You landed silently on the ledge of an old building, the claws on your gloves catching the crumbling stone. Below, the faint sound of sirens mingled with the distant hum of the city. This wasn’t your first dance with danger, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last.

As the Black Cat, Gotham’s most agile and elusive thief-turned-vigilante, you had a penchant for leaving chaos in your wake—sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. Tonight, though, you were focused on a different kind of thrill: baiting the one man who always managed to catch up to you, no matter how fast or far you ran.

“You know, it’s almost too easy to track you.”

You smirked as the familiar voice floated through the darkness behind you. “Nightwing. Took you long enough.

You turned, feigning surprise, though you’d known he was following you for at least ten minutes. Dick Grayson stood in the moonlight, his domino mask framing those piercing blue eyes that never missed a detail. His suit fit perfectly, accentuating the lean, athletic frame that made him one of Gotham’s finest vigilantes—and, arguably, its most charming.

“I didn’t realize I was on a schedule,” he quipped, crossing his arms as he approached. “What’s the plan tonight, Cat? Jewelry heist? Antique artifact? Or just another joyride across the city?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you replied, stepping closer with a sultry grin. You could practically see the way his jaw tightened as you closed the distance.

Dick held his ground, but his playful smirk betrayed him. “I would, actually. Saves me the trouble of chasing you.”

“Oh, but that’s the fun part,” you purred, circling him slowly. “You running after me, me leading you in circles… the tension building every step of the way.”

“You’ve got a strange idea of fun,” he said, his tone light, though his gaze never left yours.

“Do I?” You stopped in front of him, tilting your head as you trailed a gloved finger down the emblem on his chest. “Or do you secretly enjoy it too? Admit it, Wing. You like the chase.”

Dick let out a soft laugh, his hand catching yours before it could linger too long. “I’ll admit this: you’re not boring. But you didn’t answer my question. What’s the plan tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, tugging your hand free and turning toward the edge of the rooftop. “A shipment of stolen art is being smuggled out of Gotham tonight. Thought I’d pay a visit and, you know, return it to its rightful owners. Unless you have a problem with that?”

Dick stepped up beside you, his smirk softening into something more sincere. “No problem at all. Mind if I tag along?”

“Tag along?” You gave him a teasing glance. “I didn’t realize you needed my permission, Boy Wonder.”

“I don’t,” he shot back, his grin widening. “But it’s more fun if we work together, don’t you think?”

The two of you made your way across the city, your movements synchronized in a way that felt natural despite your differences in style. You preferred the shadows, silent and deliberate, while Dick thrived in the open, his acrobatics as much a distraction as they were a skill.

By the time you reached the warehouse, the tension between you had shifted into something more electric. You could feel his eyes on you as you worked, disarming a guard with a swift kick before slipping into the building.

Inside, the crates of stolen art were being loaded onto trucks. You crouched in the rafters beside Dick, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “What’s the plan, Wing? Or should I say, my plan?”

Dick rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “Your plan, huh? Alright, let’s hear it.”

You leaned closer, your voice a whisper. “We create a little chaos. You take the guards on the left, I’ll handle the ones on the right. First one to secure their side gets to call the shots next time.”

“Competitive, are we?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone.

“Always.” You winked before dropping silently to the floor below.

The fight was swift but satisfying. You moved with feline grace, your claws flashing as you disarmed one guard after another. Across the room, you caught glimpses of Dick in action—his flips and strikes perfectly executed, as if he were performing for an audience.

When the dust settled, the guards were unconscious, the art was secured, and Dick stood across from you, his hands on his hips.

“Not bad,” he admitted, tilting his head. “For a cat burglar.”

“Not bad yourself,” you countered, striding toward him. “For a circus boy.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and for a moment, you forgot about the chaos surrounding you.

“So,” you said, stopping just in front of him, “who won?”

Dick raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider. “Hard to say. Looks like we finished at the same time.”

You stepped closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Guess we’ll have to call it a tie. But don’t get used to it, Wing. Next time, I’ll leave you in the dust.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he replied, his grin turning teasing. “I always catch you, remember?”

You smirked, leaning in just enough to make him hold his breath. “Then you’d better keep up, Grayson. I don’t make it easy.”

Before he could respond, you turned and leapt onto a nearby crate, disappearing into the shadows. His laughter followed you, light and full of promise.

As you slipped into the night, your heart raced in a way that had nothing to do with the thrill of the chase. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind being caught—at least not by him.

[aesthetically-dying101]

Unattainable

A/N: the tittle is pretty self explanatory no? Nanami falling in love with a very powerful woman(i will be writing this prompt for other characters cause ehehhehee) I'm splitting this in two bc 28k is a lot in one go imo, so uhh.. yeah!

Warnings: pining, toxic relationship, divorce, one sided (?) love, lawyer stuff that i don't even understand

Other part:

Nanami Kento prided himself on precision.

Every line in his life—meticulous.

His suits, his ties, his case files. He lived in sharp angles and straight paths, all in service of a life that didn’t leave room for chaos or frivolity.

And then there was her.

The woman who walked into every courtroom like it was built for her, like every strand of light had been arranged to illuminate her path. She wasn’t just successful; she was untouchable. The top attorney at the rival firm, her name carried the weight of whispered legends—cases no one could win but her, settlements that reshaped industries. She was elegance sharpened into a blade, and Kento hated how much he noticed.

He noticed everything.

The quiet gleam of her wedding ring. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was reading through contracts. The barely perceptible quirk of her lips when a witness lied. It wasn’t fair, the way she lingered in his mind like cigarette smoke, heavy and inescapable.

But the worst part?

She wasn’t his.

*-*

“Did you hear?”

Nanami stopped short outside the break room, the low hum of voices catching his attention. Two junior associates, whispering, and that was always dangerous.

“About her husband? Yeah, apparently, he showed up to one of the charity galas drunk out of his mind. Embarrassed the hell out of her. Can you imagine?”

“Ugh, he’s such a nobody compared to her. Like, what does he even do?”

“Finance, I think? But, like, not good finance.”

Nanami’s grip on the coffee cup in his hand tightened, knuckles pale against porcelain. He wasn’t one to indulge in gossip, but this—this felt like a thread he couldn’t stop pulling.

“He hates her success, doesn’t he? I heard he got into a screaming match with her once because she’s never home.”

“Probably because she’s busy running circles around everyone in court. I mean, who wouldn’t hate that? She’s—”

Nanami stepped into the room, silent and deliberate. The associates froze mid-conversation, one of them clutching a packet of sugar like it might save them.

“Oh, Mr. Nanami! Uh, good morning!”

“Morning.” His voice was cool, clipped. “If you have time to gossip, you have time to review case law. Get back to work.”

The room cleared faster than he expected, but the damage was done. Their words had lodged themselves in his chest, a splinter he couldn’t remove.

*-*

Her husband.

He’d only met the man once, at a legal conference where spouses had been invited. Nanami had seen him—a tall, thin man with an expensive watch and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His handshake had been limp, and the way he introduced her—“Oh, this is my wife, Y/N. She’s, uh, a lawyer”—had grated against Kento’s ears.

She’s a lawyer??? She’s the lawyer.

The woman every firm wanted, the woman judges respected, feared, adored. She was a force of nature, and her husband had reduced her to “a lawyer.”

He hated him.

The thought felt unprofessional, indulgent even, but he couldn’t help it. He hated him in a way that felt primal, instinctual.

And then there were the things he heard. How the man resented her hours. How he sulked when she won cases because it meant more press, more attention. How he’d once called her “intimidating” in an argument.

Nanami clenched his jaw.

I wouldn’t be intimidated, he thought bitterly. I’d be proud. If she were mine…

He stopped himself there because that was a dangerous road. She wasn’t his. She was married. She’d chosen someone else.

*-*

The next time he saw her was at a joint strategy meeting for a high-profile case. Her firm and his, teaming up for the kind of case that would make headlines for months.

She walked into the room like always: poised, graceful, devastating. A beige pantsuit this time, tailored perfectly, the sharp line of her jaw softened by the faintest hint of perfume. He knew the scent. He’d looked it up once after catching it in an elevator with her—amber and vetiver, grounded yet sweet.

“Nanami,” she said, nodding at him as she took her seat.

“L/N,” he replied, his voice steady. Always steady.

For the next three hours, he forced himself to focus on the case. He listened to her present her arguments, her voice even and measured, with just enough edge to cut through the room’s noise. He didn’t miss the way her fingers played with the edge of her notebook when she was thinking or how she leaned forward when she was challenging a point.

He never missed anything about her.

When the meeting ended, she lingered, packing her things slowly as the rest of the room emptied. Nanami hesitated, unsure if he should leave or stay.

“You look tired,” she said suddenly, glancing at him.

He blinked. “Do I?”

“Mm. You work too much, Nanami.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Her laugh was soft, but it lingered in the air, wrapping around him like silk.

*-*

Later that night, alone in his apartment, Nanami stared at his untouched dinner and thought about her laugh. He thought about the way she smiled when she talked to him, like they shared a secret no one else was privy to.

He thought about her husband, about the stories he’d heard, about the ring she wore and whether she ever took it off. He hated himself for wanting her to.

You’re better than this, he told himself. She’s married. You respect her choices.

But then the darker thoughts crept in. The ones he couldn’t suppress, no matter how hard he tried.

What if she made the wrong choice? What if he doesn’t deserve her?

And the worst thought of all, the one he would never say out loud:

What if I could be better for her?

*-*

Nanami's morning had begun like every other—a controlled chaos of legal briefs and phone calls. But in the hours between his neatly pressed suit and his perfectly arranged desk, there was always that fleeting moment when his thoughts wandered too far. Too far into a realm where he didn’t belong, where the crisp lines of his life began to fray and unravel.

Today was no different.

The buzz around the office had started quietly, like the murmur of a river before it swells into a full rush of noise.

“Did you see the broadcast?” someone whispered as he walked by. “Y/N L/N, that courtroom queen—she just destroyed that pharmaceutical company. It was beautiful.”

Nanami stopped, his chest tightening, fingers still gripping the handle of his briefcase. He could hear every word, every bitter syllable, even as he stood just outside the break room. Destroyed. A word that had no business fitting into any sentence when it came to her. She didn’t destroy. She won, gracefully. It was too easy for her.

A small pang of jealousy gnawed at his gut. He hated how the world watched her with such rapt attention, how they celebrated her every victory, while—he couldn’t help but think—her husband probably didn’t even care. Probably hadn’t even watched her obliterate that corporate giant. And that thought left a sickening taste in his mouth, a bitterness that threatened to choke him.

Didn’t cook her dinner, he thought grimly. Didn’t even pour her a glass of wine to celebrate.

That’s what he imagined, anyway. The image of her walking into an empty home after the televised event, no applause, no warmth, only the dull, detached presence of the man who had the audacity to call himself her husband.

He doesn’t deserve her, Nanami thought, but he knew better than to dwell on it. Respect her choices. Respect her choices, Kento.

He hated that mantra, the way it came to him unbidden, the way it made him bite down on his own thoughts, like there was some invisible boundary between them. Some insurmountable wall he couldn’t scale.

But today, today he was going to push it all aside. He was going to be professional. He would congratulate her, just like any other attorney would congratulate a worthy opponent. And then he’d go back to his perfectly ordered life, the one he could control.

*-*

The office door swung open with a soft click, and there she was, standing in the doorway, still in her perfectly tailored coat. The very embodiment of everything he could never have—grace, power, intelligence.

He took a breath.

“Y/N,” Nanami called out smoothly, his voice a touch too clipped, too formal. But it was his default setting. “Congratulations. That was an impressive win against that pharmaceutical company.”

Her gaze flickered up at him, briefly meeting his eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch. It was like he could hear the beating of his own heart in his ears, the way his blood rushed in a deafening roar. His chest tightened. The walls inside his mind buckled.

She smiled at him—no, really smiled—her lips curving up slowly, like she had all the time in the world, and for just a second, the world felt like it narrowed down to the space between them.

“Thank you, Nanami,” she said, her voice soft, but it struck through him like a lightning bolt, sending a tremor through his veins.

And then it happened.

Her gaze lingered.

Just a little longer than it should have. Her eyes studied him with such quiet intensity, like she was searching for something. A flicker of something—a recognition?—crossed her face, but Nanami couldn’t place it. He was so caught in the moment, caught in her, that it felt like everything in him had shattered. His throat went dry, and his heart gave a sickeningly unprofessional lurch.

He felt it.

He felt it as if the very air between them had sparked, and it was dangerous, it was too much, it was everything. And yet, all she did was nod slowly. A small, controlled movement. She acknowledged him, gave him that faintest of smiles, and then—that was it.

That was it.

Nothing more. She turned her back, the soft swish of her coat disappearing into the corridor, her heels clicking against the polished floors like a drumbeat echoing in his mind.

For a long moment, Nanami stood frozen in place, blinking as if he had just been struck blind.

She smiled at me, he thought, barely able to grasp the words as they swirled around him in a dazed haze. She smiled. At me.

His breath caught.

He was still staring at the door, his entire body tingling with that inexplicable tension, that feeling as though something had shifted—something irrevocable. His fingers clenched around the handle of his briefcase, knuckles white.

No, no, no. It was just a smile. She smiled at me like she smiles at everyone, she’s just being polite. Respect her choices, Kento. Respect her choices…

But the words were meaningless. He could still feel her eyes on him, still hear the way her voice rang in his ears, soft but piercing. He could still taste that fleeting moment, the way time had stretched between them like a rubber band, taut with possibility.

His pulse quickened. His skin felt too tight, too hot, like he might break out of it at any moment. The thought of her smile, that slow curve of her lips, was enough to send him spiraling into something dangerously close to madness.

Don’t think about it, he told himself desperately. Don’t. Just don’t. It was a passing moment, nothing more.

But it wasn’t.

His eyes burned. His hands trembled. His chest was tight with the undeniable ache, the yearning, the impossibility of it all. She had looked at him. She had really looked at him.

Was I—was I about to faint?

It was ridiculous. Absolutely absurd.

But God, if he didn’t feel like he was on the edge of losing control. He could barely stand, could barely breathe. The thought of her—of that smile, that look—was consuming him, turning him inside out. He wanted to tear apart his own heart, rip out every unworthy thought, every unprofessional desire, and bury them somewhere deep inside where no one could see.

But all he could do was stand there, rooted to the floor, feeling like a fool. A pathetic fool.

And then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passed. Her footsteps were long gone, and Nanami was left standing alone in the hallway, staring at nothing.

He pressed a hand to his face, willing himself to breathe.

She smiled at me, he repeated in his head, a mantra now.

She smiled at me.

And as the reality of it hit him again, a bitter laugh escaped his lips.

*-*

Nanami’s apartment was quiet.

A small oasis of order amid the chaos of his mind, where every book was aligned perfectly on the shelves, every object placed with precision. He liked it that way—predictable, steady.

But tonight, the silence felt heavy. It pressed against him as he loosened his tie, the faint hum of the television filling the void. He wasn’t much for entertainment, but it was a Saturday, and after a week that had felt like a year, he allowed himself the indulgence of background noise.

He settled into his couch, flipping through channels with a practiced indifference until something caught his eye—a familiar face.

Her face.

Nanami froze, the remote slipping from his fingers as the image on the screen crystallized. It was you, seated in a pristine studio, her expression composed, poised. The anchor—a man with an overly polished smile—was gesturing animatedly as he introduced her, his tone dripping with false enthusiasm.

Nanami leaned forward instinctively, his hands clasped together, his chest tightening as the interview began.

“Ms. L/N, first of all, congratulations on your win. Truly remarkable work in the courtroom this past week.”

Y/N smiled, a small, practiced gesture. “Thank you. It was a team effort, as always.”

Nanami huffed quietly to himself. Team effort? She was too gracious. That case had been hers from the start—her strategy, her brilliance.

“But,” the anchor continued, leaning in slightly, “it’s not just the legal world that’s buzzing. People are curious about how you manage to balance such a demanding career with your personal life. It can’t be easy, can it?”

Nanami stiffened. He recognized the tone, the shift in body language, the glint in the anchor’s eye. The man wasn’t interested in her career. He was circling the personal, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Y/N, however, remained unflinching.

“I believe balance is something we all strive for, regardless of our profession. I’m fortunate to work with talented colleagues who make that balance achievable.”

Good answer, Nanami thought, nodding slightly.

But the anchor wasn’t done. “Of course, with the recent news about your personal life—rumors of a divorce, if I may be frank—many are wondering how that’s been affecting you. Has it been a distraction from your work?”

There it was. The shift from veiled curiosity to outright prying, the question so thinly disguised it might as well have been written in neon.

Nanami’s jaw tightened. He didn’t know what was worse: the audacity of the question or the ease with which the man delivered it, like her life was public property.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her smile unwavering but cool now, a subtle shift that only someone paying close attention would notice. Nanami, of course, noticed.

“I find it’s best to keep personal matters private,” she said smoothly, her tone neutral, diplomatic. “What I focus on is my work, and ensuring my clients receive the best possible representation.”

The anchor pressed on, undeterred. “Certainly, but doesn’t it become difficult to separate the two? Your personal life and your professional image are so intertwined.”

He’s a vulture, Nanami thought bitterly, his hand tightening into a fist on his knee. A miserable little vulture.

Y/N didn’t flinch. “I appreciate the question, but I think it’s important to remember that everyone, regardless of profession, deserves boundaries. My work speaks for itself, and I’d prefer to keep the focus there.”

The anchor hesitated, clearly unsatisfied with her non-answer. He shifted in his seat, his smile faltering slightly before he recovered. “Fair enough, Ms. L/N. Fair enough.”

Nanami exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as the interview moved back to safer topics—her strategy, her future cases, the intricacies of the legal system. But he wasn’t listening anymore, not really.

All he could think about was the way she had handled herself. How she had parried every intrusive question with a grace that bordered on surgical precision.

She knew they’d ask, he realized. She knew, and she was ready for it.

It wasn’t fair. She was brilliant, successful, untouchable—and yet, the world still found ways to pick at her, to pry open the cracks in her armor and dissect what they found.

Her husband, he thought bitterly, the word itself leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He’s the reason they ask. The reason they treat her like a spectacle.

Nanami slumped back against the couch, running a hand down his face. He hated how much it bothered him, how much he cared. It wasn’t his place—it wasn’t. She was her own person, capable of handling herself in ways he could only admire from afar.

But the thought of her sitting there, enduring questions about a marriage that he suspected was crumbling under its own weight, made his chest ache.

He doesn’t deserve her, Nanami thought again, the words louder now, sharper. He never did.

And yet, despite it all, she had smiled. She had smiled at that anchor, at the cameras, at the world. She had smiled even though they had no right to dig into her life.

And then, she had smiled at him.

The memory of that moment earlier in the day returned with a vengeance, unbidden and unwelcome. Her gaze, the way it lingered just a second too long. Her smile, soft but knowing.

Nanami groaned, dragging a hand through his hair as if he could scrub the thought from his mind.

Get a grip, he told himself sternly. She’s handling it. She’s stronger than anyone you’ve ever met.

But somewhere, buried beneath the layers of admiration and restraint, there was a part of him—a small, dangerous part—that wanted to step in, to shield her from the world’s scrutiny.

And maybe, just maybe, to be the one who deserved her smile.

*-*

The night was humming, a soft murmur of chatter and clinking glasses reverberating through the grand hall. Nanami Kento had always prided himself on his ability to blend into any setting—his poise, his sharp suits, his even sharper mind, all made him a natural at events like these. The annual gala, a gathering of Japan’s finest lawyers and legal professionals, was no exception. His firm’s presence was important, the connections invaluable. Yet tonight, his mind was elsewhere, orbiting around thoughts he couldn't quite shake.

He had caught glimpses of her again, as always—Y/N L/N.

Every time they passed each other in the courthouse hallways or at various client meetings, it felt like a collision of two separate worlds. Her poised presence was something he couldn’t quite escape, not that he ever wanted to. But tonight, she wasn’t in sight.

Instead, he found himself standing by the bar, engaging in the usual small talk with colleagues. Yu Haibara, a financial adviser who had a reputation for knowing just about every rich and powerful person in the city, was chatting animatedly beside him. Yu was a good guy, a friend, someone Nanami had worked with on various cases involving finance and mergers.

Yu's face lit up as he leaned closer to Nanami, his voice lowering to an almost conspiratorial whisper.

“Did you hear?” he asked, his eyes practically sparkling with the anticipation of a juicy tidbit.

Nanami raised an eyebrow, already bracing himself for something that would inevitably be too good to be true. “What?” He didn’t hide the slight edge of curiosity in his voice.

Yu’s grin widened. “Y/N L/N, man. She’s apparently going to leave her husband.”

The words landed like a punch to Nanami’s gut. He swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his composure as Yu continued.

“You know I have friends in some pretty expensive estates—those high-end, discreet places where the real movers and shakers go. And apparently, she’s been looking. Alone. Looking for a place for herself.” Yu’s grin was practically smug now, as if he had delivered the news of the century.

The air around Nanami felt suddenly heavier. He should have been thinking about the importance of the gala, about his position in the firm, about making connections with other power players. But all he could think about was her.

She’s looking for a place? His mind swirled with the thought. She’s alone?

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone light. “Are you sure about that? I mean, there’s no way to know for sure, right?”

Yu gave him a knowing look, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I know people who know people, Kento. And the word is definitely out there. Could be the start of something big, if you ask me.” He shrugged, clearly enjoying the effect his words were having.

Nanami’s thoughts were swirling. He tried to push back the rush of feelings—hope, confusion, a sense of desire so intense it felt like it could burn him alive. He wanted to ask more, but that would be too obvious, wouldn’t it? Too much.

He didn’t want to seem desperate.

He was about to respond when another voice slid into the conversation, cutting through the haze in his mind.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but did I hear that right?”

Nanami turned to see a woman standing beside them—another lawyer, someone he vaguely recognized from past events. She was tall, sharp, with a professional air that could only come from someone who worked in high-profile circles.

“You said Y/N L/N might be leaving her husband?” the woman said, her tone a bit too interested for comfort. “Well, if you want the real story, I can tell you.”

Yu chuckled lightly, not missing a beat. “Go ahead, Ayumi. You’ve got the inside track on this stuff.”

Ayumi’s smile was as smooth as polished stone.

“Well, I work with divorce lawyers,” she began, eyes twinkling with something far too knowing. “And I can’t exactly tell you anything concrete, of course. Client confidentiality and all that. But I will say this—when you work in the high-end legal world, you hear things. You know who’s looking for a lawyer. You know who’s getting advice on how to move forward with a separation.”

Nanami’s heart dropped. He didn’t want to hear it—he really didn’t want to hear it—but the words came tumbling out anyway. Ayumi, her voice slow and deliberate, continued.

“Y/N L/N has been meeting with lawyers. Multiple times. Not just any divorce lawyer, mind you—high-end ones. The best. It’s been going on for weeks now. And as much as she tries to keep it under wraps, the word gets out.”

Yu was practically leaning forward now, his eyes alight with the thrill of the gossip.

“Sounds like something’s brewing. It’s a mess, isn’t it? If she really is planning to split—”

Ayumi cut him off with a small chuckle. “It’s not really a mess, Yu. It’s a process. But let me tell you this—it’s not just about the marriage. No, no. She’s done with him. The rumors about his… insecurity about her success? That’s all true. The guy has his pride, but it’s not enough to keep a woman like her.”

Nanami’s blood ran cold. His grip tightened on his glass. He knew it was wrong to feel a sense of satisfaction at hearing that, but part of him couldn’t help it. A small, dangerous part of him that wished for this—wished for it to be true.

Ayumi continued, oblivious to the storm of emotions building inside him. “She’s had enough. She’s probably going to pull the trigger soon. Everyone in those circles knows it’s just a matter of time. He couldn’t keep up with her. Hell, he couldn’t even be happy for her when she was making millions. You’d think a man would be proud of his wife, right?” She clicked her tongue in mock disbelief. “But no. She’s ready to move on.”

Move on.

The words hit Nanami like a blow to the chest. His heart raced, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm.

She’s leaving him.

It was absurd. He wasn’t happy about it, not really. He didn’t want to see her hurt, didn’t want her to feel like she was shackled to someone who couldn’t match her. But at the same time—God—the thought that she was getting out, breaking free of whatever miserable shell she was stuck in, made his pulse quicken.

She’s leaving him for someone else?

Nanami blinked, trying to hold onto the thread of his thoughts. But the words that had been spoken continued to replay in his mind, over and over again.

She’s leaving him.

Ayumi leaned back, satisfied with her contribution to the conversation, and Nanami felt himself slipping. His thoughts were too loud, too jumbled, and yet... he couldn’t ignore it.

Yu’s voice cut through the haze again. “Well, whatever happens, I’ll be watching. You never know who might end up being in the picture when all this plays out, huh?”

Nanami’s eyes darted to Yu, and for a moment, his own thoughts seemed to clear. He gave a small, controlled smile.

“I suppose we’ll see,” Nanami replied, his voice calm, but his mind was already miles away, envisioning what might come next. What could come next. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but the idea of her—finally free, and maybe finally looking at him—was almost too much to bear.

He could only hope that when the time came, he’d be ready.

*-*

The shift in her was unmistakable.

Nanami noticed it almost immediately, though he doubted anyone else could have pieced it together so quickly. You had always been a force of nature—sharp, composed, commanding—but now? Now she was something entirely different.

In the courtroom, she was relentless. Every word was honed to perfection, her arguments devastatingly precise. Opposing counsel couldn’t keep up, fumbling under the weight of her pointed remarks and icy glares. Witnesses stumbled, judges leaned in with rapt attention, and even juries seemed to shrink under her gaze.

She was terrifying.

She was magnificent.

And Nanami, against every instinct of self-preservation he had ever cultivated, thought it was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

*-*

In the weeks since Yu had told him about the rumors, Nanami had been hyperaware of her every move. He told himself it was out of professional interest, an admiration for her unparalleled skill. But deep down, he knew better.

She’s angry.

It was evident in the way she tore into her opponents, in the way her voice cut through courtroom debates like a blade. Whatever turmoil she was experiencing—whatever bitterness her life outside of work had brewed—she was channeling it into her cases.

And God help anyone standing in her way.

Nanami watched her from a distance, always careful not to stare too long, not to let anyone else catch on to the way his eyes lingered. But inside, he was a storm of contradictions. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her she didn’t have to bear the weight of her anger alone.

And yet…

She doesn’t need me.

That truth hit him like a punch to the chest every time he saw her. She didn’t need anyone. She was untouchable, unshakeable, a pillar of strength that made his own admiration feel insignificant in comparison.

But admiration was a poor mask for what he really felt.

It’s love, he admitted to himself in quieter moments. You love her. You’ve loved her since the first time you saw her.

And it was true. He couldn’t deny it anymore, not when every glance, every word, every thought of her sent his heart racing and his carefully curated composure crumbling at the edges.

The next gala came almost a month after Yu’s revelation, and Nanami had no intention of dwelling on it. It was another event he couldn’t avoid, another night of polite smiles and shallow conversations. He stood with Yu again, exchanging pleasantries with other attendees, his thoughts drifting as they often did.

Then he saw her.

She was across the room, a vision in sleek black, her hair swept back elegantly, her posture regal. The crowd around her seemed to blur as his focus narrowed, the ambient noise fading into a dull hum.

Her presence was magnetic, as always, but there was something different about her tonight. Something he couldn’t quite place until—

Oh.

His eyes fell to her left hand, where her wedding ring had always sat—a symbol of the one choice he could never bring himself to question aloud.

Except now, it wasn’t there.

No ring.

No. Fucking. Ring.

Nanami’s mind went blank, a thousand emotions rushing in to fill the void. Relief, joy, disbelief, hope. His heart was a thunderstorm, a wild cacophony that drowned out everything else.

She left him.

He wanted to laugh, to scream, to do something ridiculous and celebratory. His mind painted wild images—him dancing on the tables, popping champagne, tossing confetti in the air like a lunatic.

But instead, he did what he always did. He stayed still, composed, unreadable.

Externally, at least.

She turned slightly, her gaze sweeping the room until it landed on him. Her lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and she raised her glass in greeting.

Nanami’s breath caught, his pulse thundering in his ears. The gesture was so simple, so innocuous, but the weight of it hit him like a freight train.

She noticed me.

He raised his own glass in return, the movement steady, deliberate. He couldn’t let her see the chaos inside him—the way his chest felt too tight, the way his stomach churned with nerves and something dangerously close to joy.

Her smile lingered for a moment longer before she turned back to her conversation, leaving him rooted in place, the glass still in his hand.

Internally, he was spiraling.

She left him. She’s free. She’s free, and she’s here, and she smiled at you.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ground himself, to keep from spiraling any further. He wasn’t a fool—he knew this didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean she was interested in him, didn’t mean she saw him as anything more than a colleague, a peer.

But it meant something.

She was free from that man, that sad excuse for a husband who had never deserved her in the first place. Nanami’s mind conjured an image of the guy—pathetic, insecure, looking like some poor sea creature dragged up from the Mariana Trench and gasping for air.

Good riddance.

Nanami exhaled slowly, setting his glass down on a nearby table. He needed to get a grip, to calm the storm of emotions threatening to undo him.

But as much as he tried to push it down, the truth remained:

He loved her. He loved her, and now she was free.

And though he would never presume to think he had a chance—never cross the line of his own respect for her independence—a small, dangerous part of him dared to hope.

For now, though, he would let her enjoy her freedom, let her stand tall in the room without the weight of a man who couldn’t keep up.

And he would wait. As long as it took, he would wait.

*-*

Your apartment is the kind of place you never thought you’d have.

It’s sleek and modern, perched high enough to keep the chaos of the city below you at bay but not so high that it feels disconnected. The kitchen gleams with marble countertops you picked out yourself, the living room glows with the soft, ambient lighting you’ve always wanted, and the whole place smells faintly of lavender and the kind of peace you’ve been craving for years.

It’s yours.

Fully, completely, undeniably yours.

The cats seem to agree. Snowball, your eldest and the clingier of the two, is perched on the counter, watching you with the intense focus of a creature who believes the world revolves around them. Shadow, your sleek black cat, is curled up in the corner of the room, pretending to sleep but flicking his tail whenever you get too far away.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you mutter, scooping food into their bowls. Snowball immediately hops down, tail curling around your leg in what you’ve come to interpret as cat-speak for ‘finally, peasant.’

You sigh as they dig in, their tiny crunches the only sound in your apartment. The silence is nice. Comforting, even. You love your quiet nights now—no passive-aggressive sighs from across the room, no snide comments about how you spend your time, no one sulking over the success that should’ve been a shared triumph.

Still, the peace doesn’t come without a price.

Your mind drifts as you chop vegetables for dinner. The knife moves rhythmically, slicing through crisp bell peppers and juicy tomatoes as the soft hum of your thoughts turns sharper, angrier.

He’s dragging this out on purpose.

You know it’s true.

Every demand, every unnecessary delay, every petty little stunt—it’s all designed to make your life just a little bit harder. To remind you that even now, even after you’ve chosen to walk away, he still has the power to inconvenience you.

What a waste of time.

It’s not like you didn’t see it coming. He’s always been the type to dig his heels in when things didn’t go his way. But somehow, the sheer pettiness of it still manages to catch you off guard.

You toss the vegetables into a hot pan, the sizzle snapping you back to reality. The smell of garlic and olive oil fills the kitchen, warm and familiar, and for a fleeting moment, your mind shifts—unbidden—to Nanami.

It’s stupid. You don’t even know why he comes to mind. Maybe it’s the way he always seems so calm, so steady, like nothing in the world could shake him. Or maybe it’s the way he watches you—quietly, respectfully, like you’re something to be admired and not just tolerated.

The thought makes your stomach twist, not unpleasantly, but you shake it off. You’re not here to daydream about a man who’s nothing more than a passing presence in your life. You’re here to make dinner, feed your cats, and maybe watch an episode of whatever trashy drama Netflix is pushing on you this week.

Besides, you think bitterly, stirring the vegetables with a little more force than necessary, you’ve already made enough bad decisions when it comes to men.

Your ex. Your fucking ex.

The thought of him sours your mood instantly. You were twenty when you got married—twenty and stupid, brimming with the kind of youthful optimism that made you believe love could fix anything.

He was your high school sweetheart, the first boy you ever loved, and that had seemed like enough at the time. Never mind that you were halfway through law school and already growing into a version of yourself he didn’t seem to like. Never mind that every argument ended with you apologizing, even when he was clearly in the wrong. Never mind that, deep down, you’d always known he didn’t really get you.

You wanted it to work. You wanted it so badly.

But wanting something doesn’t make it real.

The vegetables are done, the pasta boiling gently on the stove. You pour yourself a glass of wine, taking a long sip as your thoughts continue to spiral.

Why the hell did I stay so long?

It’s a question you’ve asked yourself a thousand times, and the answer never satisfies you. Maybe it was guilt—after all, he hadn’t cheated or hit you or done anything that screamed ‘leave me now.’ Maybe it was fear—fear of what people would think, of what it would mean to be alone after so many years of being part of a pair.

Or maybe you were just stubborn.

You snort softly, swirling the wine in your glass. You can’t sue him for leeching off you, you remind yourself, though the thought is tempting. The man hadn’t worked a full-time job in years, content to play the role of supportive husband while you carried the financial weight of both of you.

You wanted to believe it wasn’t out of malice. That maybe he felt emasculated by your success, that maybe he didn’t know how to handle being outshone by the woman he married.

But then you remember the way he used to talk to you—the cutting remarks, the little digs at your ambition, the way he made you feel like you were too much for wanting what you deserved.

Fuck him.

The cats have finished eating, now lounging lazily on the couch as you plate your dinner. It’s nothing fancy—just pasta and vegetables with a sprinkle of parmesan—but it feels good to cook for yourself. To take care of yourself, on your own terms, in your own space.

You sit down at the table, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through your windows. It’s quiet again, the kind of quiet that feels like freedom.

And as you take your first bite, you can’t help but think:

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

*-*

Nanami sat at his desk, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting a warm light over the scattered papers, but he wasn’t looking at them. He hadn’t been looking at them for hours. His mind was somewhere else, somewhere much more dangerous, and his thoughts—his relentless, overwhelming thoughts—had begun to blur the lines between fantasy and reality.

The worst part? He knew it. He knew it in the very marrow of his bones.

I’m insane, he thought for the thousandth time, rubbing his temples in an effort to ward off the growing headache. I’m obsessed with her.

It wasn’t just the way she moved or spoke or carried herself. It wasn’t just her beauty, which had always been undeniable—radiant, sharp, intelligent. God, she was breathtaking, but it was more than that. So much more.

It was everything.

How could I be this obsessed with a woman I’ve known for years?

His fingers drummed impatiently against the edge of his desk, his body restless. Every moment with her, whether it was a casual exchange of pleasantries in the hallway or a fierce legal battle in the courtroom, left a mark on him. Why does she do this to me? His mind refused to quiet, constantly racing, dredging up scenarios, dreams, things he would never say aloud.

It was so much worse than attraction.

It was infatuation.

I want her. I want everything.

The thought hit him like a jolt of electricity, and his pulse surged. He gripped the edge of his desk, leaning forward, his chest tightening as his mind filled with images—vivid, impossible, but undeniable.

Her. Her in my life. In my home. In my space.

He could see it so clearly, so vividly.

She was there, standing in his kitchen, her back to him as she expertly chopped vegetables, her gaze sharp and focused, yet there was something soft about her in this moment—something domestic, something intimate. He would watch her from the doorway, waiting for her to notice him, for her to smile in that way she had. The way she did when no one was around to see.

She would look at me and I’d know.

He’d step into the kitchen, his hand brushing against hers as she reached for a pan, the smallest touch that would send an undeniable jolt through him. And she would let it happen. She would let him in. She’d let him take her hand, maybe even kiss her palm as they stood in that kitchen, surrounded by warmth, by domesticity.

What’s wrong with me?

He closed his eyes, trying to shake off the images that wouldn’t leave him, the fantasies that were growing increasingly real in his mind.

He wanted to see her work. Not in the abstract way that they worked together occasionally—no, he wanted to see it. He wanted to be a part of it, to watch her in her element, her intelligence shining through in every decision, every word, every strategy. He wanted to be the one who stood by her side in those moments, the one she turned to when the weight of a case grew too heavy.

He wanted to be her partner.

Not just in the professional sense—no, it went far beyond that.

I want her in every sense of the word, he thought. His breath quickened, his chest tightening further. I want to wake up with her beside me. I want to see her face first thing in the morning, when her hair is still messy, and the world hasn’t had the chance to ruin her yet. I want to make her coffee, cook for her, laugh with her, love her.

And, God, yes, he wanted her physically too. But not just for the raw, frantic desire that twisted his gut every time their eyes met. He needed more. He needed to feel her skin against his, to hear her laugh in the dark, to feel her at peace—something he never saw in her, but something he was determined to help her find.

But it was so much more than that. So much more than lust.

This isn’t just sex, he thought with a kind of despair. I’m not like this. I’m… I’m a professional. I’ve been doing this for years. But every time I see her, I forget myself. I lose myself. I don’t want to just fuck her—I want to build a life with her.

The thought was terrifying. It shook him to his core. He had never, not once, allowed himself to feel something so irrational, so out of control. But she made him feel—in ways that were dangerous.

He wanted to be the one who kept her grounded, the one who saw the pieces of her no one else saw. The quiet, hidden parts of her that were too hard, too sharp for anyone else to understand.

But she’s not mine.

The harsh reality slapped him in the face again.

She wasn’t his.

Not now, not ever.

She had her own life, her own path to walk, and as much as it crushed him, he respected that.

But damn it, it didn’t make it any easier.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly, his body feeling like it was about to crack under the pressure of his own thoughts.

I’m a professional. I need to focus. I’m losing my mind.

But even as he told himself this, as he tried to push the gnawing ache in his chest aside, he knew. He knew that none of this was going to go away. The yearning. The need. The obsession.

It was growing, expanding, until it swallowed everything else.

He couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.

And if it meant he was slowly losing his mind, then maybe, just maybe, it was a price he was willing to pay.

God help me.

A/N: ehehehheheheheeh nanamiiii, also, i have a draft for aizawa!! i'm so happy i've started writing for him, i hope this is okay btw, im unsure if i like this story.

Masterlist.

:)

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; shadow milk cookie

requested by ; anonymous (04/09/24)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; shadow milk cookie

outline ; “Ahem… Shadow Milk Cookie Yandere HC’s?? *slides you a 20* (I’m 20 yrs old btw)”

warning(s) ; yandere!shadow milk cookie, potentially ooc!shadow milk cookie at points, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, stalking, kidnapping, physical abuse, psychological abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, heavily implied murder, just a really toxic and abusive dynamic overall (duh lol)

on the surface it’s quite difficult to tell the difference between shadow milk cookie’s behaviour as a lover normally and how he acts as a yandere… at least as long as you do as you’re told and don’t try and disobey him — and that’s pretty much entirely down to the fact that he’s the beast of deceit; lying and acting come as easily to him as breathing so he’s very good at either hiding the darker sides of himself from you, or at convincing you that the red flags and abusive behaviours that you do notice are either fabrications of your mind or completely deserved because of some slight you committed against him

he’s also very intentional about how he gets you under his thumb, treating the whole thing like an elaborate play where he ensures that everyone plays their part — he’ll stalk you religiously for weeks, make sure you never see him but that you know you’re being followed so that your mental stability declines, go out of his way to manipulate your relationships with your loved ones so they break down (or that they’re not around to care about you anymore) and you’re left completely isolated, and then, once he’s certain that you’re suitably vulnerable for his needs he’ll simply swoop in and take you back to his realm where nobody will be able to find you

(and where he can get rid of anyone who does without having to leave you alone for too long)

he tests you a lot, dangling the promise of freedom in front of your face just long enough for you to regain some semblance of hope only to snatch it away and punish you for daring to even think about betraying your husband — and his punishments are always incredibly disproportionate to whatever infraction you committed against him (e.g. your eyes lighting up a bit too much at the mention of something/someone from your old life for his tastes is met with a period of isolation so gruelling you’ll end up hallucinating and begging for his company, while an actual attempt to escape — even if wholly unsuccessful — is followed by a staged fight with the monsters dwelling in his domain that leaves you so broken and battered that you’ll be wholly reliant on him to be able to move for the next few weeks)

he claims that he hates these punishments just as much as you do, but the sadistic glee in his eyes when he’s enacting them and the smug grin on his face when you finally relent say otherwise

shadow milk cookie is extremely possessive — hence his very thorough method of isolating you from your larger social circle before he took you — and, as such, anytime he gets the slightest inkling that you might have at some point had feelings for someone else (be that a fleeting consideration that a stranger was attractive or an actual fully fledged past relationship) then he makes quick work of dragging them back to his domain and letting them know that you’re taken

he never elaborates on what that means, but based on all of the screams you hear when he brings someone new ‘home’ you decide that you’re better off just living in ignorance

he likes to talk to you, loves the sound of your voice more than his own, and could happily spend days at a time just chatting with you (or, as it happens for most of the earlier months of your ‘relationship’, at you) — but for as vocal as he is, sometimes he’ll just sit/float in the same room as you and just stare at you with that damned smile on his face

just following your every movement with visible hearts in his eyes — letting out the occasional dreamy sigh or humming along to a tune you couldn’t even hope to guess as he observes you like you’re some sort of exotic pet — and if he wasn’t literally holding you captive, if he were literally anyone else, you might have even gone so far as to call him cute for it

his ultimate goal is to break you and make you love him, and he makes good use of his magic and his talent for lying to do that — he convinces you that everyone you knew actually despises you and that nobody has even tried to search for you after you disappeared, he conjurs up illusions of your loved ones insulting and belittling and mocking you that infect your dreams and begin to twist your memories to match his assertions as more time passes in his realm, he oscillates between ignoring and isolating you and showering you with affection and attention to make you crave his presence and company more than you loathe him for kidnapping you, and he gets into your head enough to wholeheartedly convince you that every punishment he inflicts is for your own good

he’s manipulative as fuck and cruel as all hell, but eventually it starts to work and you begin to develop a sort of stockholm syndrome for your captor

it may take months or years or even decades if you’re especially stubborn, but you’re still only human and he’s willing to wait however long he needs to in order to see you break

after all, shadow milk cookie spent eons trapped in that damned tree waiting for his freedom so he can wait even longer for the love of his life

how disgustingly obsessive

how terribly romantic of him

[maypiles]

🥐🫖Coffee Grounds Reading ☕🥞

Darlings, pull up a chair, pour yourself something delicious, and brace yourselves. Today, we’re diving into a reading that took me by surprise—and that never happens.

❗This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what does not. Please do not force the reading. Be careful of scammers, I'll never reach out to you to ask you for money or personal readings❗

My First Coffee Grounds Reading: Spirit Had Something to Say

Now, let me preface this by saying: coffee grounds? Not my thing. Never done it before. Didn’t even consider it. But Spirit? Oh, they had other plans. They yanked me in like a puppet on a string. Imagine me, staring at this cup, thinking, ‘Why am I even doing this?’ And then, bam—downloads. Floods of them. It’s like Spirit couldn’t wait to talk to me. They didn’t just knock; they kicked the door down. Was this a gift I’ve been sitting on all this time? Perhaps. We’ll let the collective decide. So, this isn’t just any reading. This is a wake-up call. For me, for you, for whoever needs to hear it. Spirit doesn’t mess around, and apparently, neither do I. Let’s dive in, shall we?

The Empty Cycle: Judgment Day Is Here

Picture this: an empty circle in the grounds, glaring at me like an omen. And Spirit? They’re in my ear, murmuring ‘Judgment.’ Not the small stuff, darlings. This is major. This is cycles closing, chapters slamming shut, doors locking for good. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? That gnawing sense that something old, something stagnant, is finally over. This isn’t just change—it’s transformation, rebirth, a clean slate. Spirit was clear: this is fated. Your wake-up call has arrived. Are you ready to answer?

The Butterfly: Transformation Is Inevitable

As I sat there, watching the patterns swirl, a butterfly emerged, delicate and undeniable. Transformation, my loves. Metamorphosis. A new version of yourself taking shape. Spirit’s whispering: let go of what you were and embrace what you’re becoming. And oh, isn’t it poetic? Right when you think it’s over, the butterfly reminds you—it’s only just begun.

Two of Cups: A Connection That Defies Logic

Next, two figures appeared, facing each other. Intimate. Magnetic. Spirit screamed ‘Two of Cups!’ This isn’t just attraction—it’s soul recognition. Two people who see each other in a way no one else can. And let’s talk about them, shall we? She’s the Queen of Cups energy, all depth and allure. A Scorpio, no less. He? A Scorpio rising. The click is instant, inevitable. They’re drawn together like magnets, feeding off each other’s intensity, their water energies swirling into something neither can resist. It’s electric, intoxicating, and oh-so-scandalous, because some, not all, is being shady.

The Workplace Rendezvous: Three of Pentacles Energy

Here’s where it gets spicy: Spirit showed me their meeting point. It’s tied to work—his workplace, specifically. Maybe she works nearby. Maybe they met online but it’s somehow connected to his professional world. And there’s this detail: a shoe. Clear as day. A shoe shop, perhaps? She might work there, or maybe the symbolism runs deeper—stepping into new territory, walking a path they can’t turn back from, crossing a line that you shouldn't if you're committed to another. Either way, it’s rooted in their everyday lives, a seemingly mundane connection that turns extraordinary. Why am I hearing forbidden fruit while seeing the lovers card flash in my mind's eye?

The Migratory Birds: Moving On, Moving Forward

Then came the birds. Migratory, tiny, fluttering through the grounds like whispers of change. Spirit said, ‘Movement.’ Emotional? Literal? Both? Someone here is leaving something behind—baggage, a partner, an old life. Maybe they’re physically relocating, or maybe they’re finally letting go of what’s been holding them back. Either way, it’s a departure, a step into the unknown. And Spirit dropped a song into my mind—‘I’m Watching the Moon.’ You know it? ‘Moving on.’ The lyrics echo their journey: watching, letting go, starting over.

The Leak: Secrets, Scandals, and Consequences

Now, let’s address the brim of the cup, because this is where Spirit got dramatic. ‘This is going to leak,’ Spirit said. And not just any secret—a forbidden secret. There’s evidence, traces left behind. And here’s the kicker: it’s tied to intimacy. I saw sexting, nudes, private exchanges that aren’t staying private for long in the future. Something slips. Someone sees what they shouldn’t. It’s messy, darlings, and it leaves marks that can’t be erased. Play with fire, and you’ll get burned.

The Playboy Rabbit and Bugs Bunny: Symbols of Desire

Ah, the rabbit. The playboy kind—this one’s more primal, more instinctual. Also another rabbit appeared: Bugs Bunny, grinning like he knows a secret. Spirit painted a vivid picture: intimacy, raw and unfiltered. Him, behind her, holding her hair. Her, on her belly, surrendering completely. Spirit said ‘that's someone's favorite s∆x position’ And then—Sailor Moon? Spirit flashed her image, and I don’t know why, but it feels significant. Maybe it’s about fantasy, fulfillment, the way this connection feels almost otherworldly. And then came the seahorse—fulfillment, completion, a sense of being whole in each other’s presence.

The Timeline: Three Strikes, Three Months

Spirit kept emphasizing ‘three.’ Three strikes, three months. It’s a countdown, a ticking clock leading to something big. Maybe the leak. Maybe the emotional move. Maybe the culmination of their connection. Whatever it is, it’s happening soon. Spirit wants you to know: mark your calendars. This isn’t far off, darlings—it’s breathing down your neck.

The Pick-Me Queen and the Validation King™

Let’s talk about her, shall we? The Queen of Cups, the Scorpio enchantress. Spirit says she’s a pick-me girl, and oh, he’s eating it up. Why? Because she validates him, feeds his ego, makes him feel like he’s the only man in the world. And him? Scorpio rising. He’s obsessed. Consumed. Their dynamic is a perfect storm of need and adoration, and neither of them can resist the pull. (A detail Spirit kept insisting on is that she's born in 2002 TF?)

🥐🫖My Final Thoughts🫖🥐

So, darlings, there you have it. My first-ever coffee grounds reading, and what a revelation it was. I don’t know if this is a gift I’ve been hiding or just Spirit playing tricks on me, but one thing’s certain: I’m hooked. If this resonates, take it, run with it. If not, well, enjoy the drama—it’s better than Netflix, isn’t it? And remember: I don’t predict the future—I reveal it. Spirit’s the storyteller, I’m just the scribe. Until next time, my loves. Ta-ta!

Vote wisely, my loves, and don’t hold back—I never do.

P.S: Pictures and dividers belong to their respective owners.

[sillygoose067]

A Masked Promise

Ch.25

Dick Grayson(Nightwing) x Reader

The tower was quiet in the early hours, a rare peace settling over the space. Dick leaned against the kitchen counter, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. The warmth seeped into his palms, but it did little to ease the knot of tension in his chest. His mind was on you, still fast asleep in his room, wrapped in layers of blankets that he had tucked around you before leaving.

You had looked so fragile in the morning light, your face pale, framed by hair that stuck slightly to your damp cheek. The bruises on your ribs were darkening, and your knees—scraped raw—made his stomach twist every time he thought about how you’d stumbled through last night’s chaos.

He’d woken up first, his body still restless even after the few hours of sleep he managed. He had stayed beside you for as long as he could bear, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest, reassuring himself you were really there, really alive.

The image of finding you after the explosion haunted him. The sight of you, crumpled and shaking, your voice barely above a whisper as you told him what had happened, was burned into his mind.

Now, standing in the dim light of the common room, he sighed heavily and took a sip of coffee. His grip on the mug tightened as his thoughts circled back to the fear in your eyes when he’d reached you. He had failed to protect you, and that realization cut deeper than anything he’d faced in battle.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced up as Kory walked in, her eyes immediately narrowing at the sight of him. Gar followed close behind, his usual lighthearted demeanor tempered by concern, and Rachel trailed last, her arms crossed as she scanned his face.

“Morning,” Kory greeted, her voice cautious. 

Dick shrugged, setting his mug down. 

Gar leaned against the counter, his gaze flicking over Dick. “You okay? You look… tense.”

“I’m fine,” he replied quickly, his tone clipped.

Rachel tilted her head, her expression sharp. “We’re not asking about you,” she said softly. “We’re asking about her.”

The room fell silent. Dick’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She’s resting,” he finally said. “She’s hurt, but she’ll be okay.”

Gar’s brow furrowed, his usual playful energy replaced with genuine concern. “What happened? Rachel said there was an explosion, but she didn’t have details.”

Dick exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “She was mugged before the explosion. I didn’t find out until after, but—” His voice cracked slightly, and he forced himself to steady it. “She got caught in the blast. When I found her, she was shaken, hurt. Scratched-up knees, bruised ribs…” He trailed off, his throat tightening.

Rachel’s face softened, her usual guarded expression giving way to empathy. “She must have been terrified,” she said gently.

“She was,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I wasn’t there. I didn’t protect her.”

Kory placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding. “You can’t be everywhere, Dick. What matters is you found her. She’s alive because of you.”

He shook his head, the guilt clawing at him. “She shouldn’t have had to go through that in the first place.”

Gar hesitated before speaking, his voice unusually serious. “Does she know? About us? About… what we do?”

“She knows enough,” Dick said, his tone firm. 

Rachel’s eyes flicked toward the hallway that led to Dick’s room. “Is she… awake? Can we meet her?”

“No,” he said quickly, his protectiveness flaring. “She’s exhausted. She needs rest. Last night was… too much.”

Kory nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Fair enough. But when she’s ready, we’d like to meet her. If she’s important to you, she’s important to us.”

Dick looked away, his jaw tightening. “She doesn’t need this—any of it. She doesn’t need people asking questions or worrying about her.”

“She doesn’t have to be part of the team to have our support,” Rachel said quietly. “We just want to make sure she’s okay.”

The sincerity in her voice made his shoulders sag slightly. He nodded, his eyes distant. “Thanks.”

Kory gave him a small smile, her tone lightening. “And you should take care of yourself, too. You can’t help her if you burn yourself out.”

He nodded again, though the weight of his guilt still lingered. As the team began to settle into their morning routines, he returned to the sink and rinsed his mug, his mind already racing with plans to ensure nothing like this ever happened again.

…

Dick stood by the sink, his fingers wrapped tightly around the edges of the counter. The water ran cold, the rush of it almost too sharp, but it didn’t break through the fog of thoughts that had settled in his mind. His eyes were fixed on the way the light from the morning sun caught the edges of the dishes, his mind not truly registering anything, even as his body mechanically went through the motions.

It was too quiet in the tower. Too still. Every inch of the space felt like it was pressing down on him, reminding him of the chaos from the night before. His mind kept returning to the fact that you—you, someone he cared about deeply, had been hurt.

And it was because of him.

Dick had pulled you into his world. He’d let you get too close, let you see all the mess, the danger. The explosion—everything that had happened—was the result of him being tangled in the darkness he tried to keep hidden. You shouldn’t have had to deal with any of it. You shouldn’t have been caught in the middle, bruised and shaken, paying the price for being involved with him.

He wasn’t angry at the world, at the situation. He was angry at himself. And the longer he stood there, with the cold water running over his fingers, the worse it became. The weight of it suffocating him, a steady pressure he couldn’t escape. You didn’t deserve this. He should have kept you out of it. He should have protected you. But somehow, every time he thought he’d managed to shield you from the danger, he only ended up pulling you deeper into it.

The thought that you might be hurt again—because of him—sent a ripple of panic through his chest, one he couldn’t shake.

He turned off the sink with a slow, deliberate movement, but it didn’t help the ache in his heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked after the explosion. How small, how fragile, you had seemed, even as you tried to reassure him. He had promised to keep you safe. But promises felt empty now, hollow, echoing in his mind like a distant, failed dream.

There was a soft rustling from his quarters. The sound of fabric shifting. Dick’s breath caught as he made his way to the room, his eyes immediately falling on you.

You were awake. Your face was still pale, your eyes heavy with exhaustion, but you were looking at him, confusion and concern written across your features.

“Gray?” Your voice was soft, raw with sleep, but there was a warmth to it that reached him through the haze of his thoughts.

He quickly wiped his hands on his pants and turned to face you, his body stiffening as he forced a smile. “Hey, you’re up.”

You blinked, your eyes searching his face. It only took a moment before you noticed the way his shoulders were slumped, the tension in his jaw, the furrow between his brows that never seemed to go away.

He hadn’t even realized how deeply he’d been brooding until you looked at him like that. He could see it in your eyes, the concern—because, somehow, you always noticed when something was wrong, even when he tried to hide it. Even now, as you slowly propped yourself up on the bed, the covers falling to your waist, you could tell that something wasn’t right.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything. You reached out, your hand gently brushing the edge of his arm, warm and comforting. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice low but full of sincerity. “Why do you look like that?”

Dick’s chest tightened at the question. The mask he tried so desperately to keep on cracked, just a little. He exhaled sharply, eyes trained on the floor. “I should have kept you safe. If you hadn’t been with me, you wouldn’t have been caught up in all of this. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

You frowned, reaching up to touch his cheek. The contact was tender, but it shook him, a jolt through his already fragile composure. “Gray… I’m okay.” Your words were gentle but firm, like a lifeline.

But he shook his head, unable to meet your eyes. “No, you’re not okay. You’ve got bruises on your ribs. Scratches on your knees. And that’s my fault.” His voice cracked just a little, his chest tightening with the weight of his self-loathing. “You shouldn’t have been anywhere near that explosion. I never should’ve let you get involved.”

You could feel the heat of his guilt radiating off him, the way his whole body was stiff with regret, and it made your heart ache for him. He had carried the weight of it all through the night, and now, seeing the guilt etched into his features, it broke something inside you.

Slowly, you sat up more, feeling a wince from the ache in your own ribs, but it was nothing compared to the pain you could see on his face. You reached out and gently cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Listen to me,” you said softly but firmly. “None of this is your fault. I didn’t get hurt because I’m with you, I got hurt because I just… I got unlucky.”

His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t have even been in that situation.”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t because of you, Gray. Please understand that. I don’t want you to feel like this is on you, because it’s not. If I hadn’t been with you, maybe I wouldn’t have been caught up in the explosion, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have gotten hurt eventually. It was just the wrong place, the wrong time.”

You paused, your hands still resting on his face, trying to convey everything you felt through the gentle pressure of your touch. “You found me. I’m fine now. I promise.”

Dick’s eyes searched yours, the anguish in them softening just a little as he absorbed your words. Slowly, he nodded, but the worry didn’t leave his features. You could see that the weight of it still sat heavy on him, pressing down with relentless force.

“I hate seeing you like this,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “I don’t want you blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but he stopped himself. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, a shuddering breath escaping him as he finally leaned into your touch.

“I just… I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. You mean too much to me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, a rawness in it that made your heart ache.

You didn’t have any more words to say. You simply pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him tightly, pressing your cheek to the top of his head. His heart was pounding, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly start to melt as he let himself lean into you.

“It’s okay, Gray,” you murmured, the words spilling from you as you held him close. “You don’t have to protect me from everything. I’m here now. I’m with you.”

———————————————————————————-

TAGLIST:

@mybones537 @thereeallink @ziziriaa-blog

[sergeantgoggles]

🥺 may I request CrossTech burnt umber?

I'm so sorry this took me so long, friend! I hope I did this justice!

Takes place in a Tech Lives AU post season 3.

Burnt Umber (How long until they say ‘I love you’ for the first time?)

.

Crosshair’s legs were pulled up to his chest, and he hugged them tightly as he watched the waves crash onto the shore. Pabu was pretty, that was something that he could admit freely. What he enjoyed specifically was the sun on his skin, bathing him in warmth after spending so long in the cold rain, or cold space, or cold snow, or worse, the cold of the prison he had been kept in. He allowed that warmth to consume him, let it heat him to his bones, and he basked in every glorious moment of sunlight he could get.

Something else he enjoyed, though it was harder for him to verbalize, was seeing his family at peace. They all had their scars, their nightmares. Even Omega had been known to bolt upright with a scream in the dead of night from time to time, something that they had never wanted for her, but still a side effect of the trauma she’d endured since leaving Kamino. They were always there for her, though, all of them, and that was worth something, especially when he could watch her run around the island with Batcher in tow, and usually one of the others not far behind them.

A small smile turned up his lips as he watched her splash on the shore, Wrecker keeping watch over her idly as he spoke with some of the locals. At the same time, arms circled his shoulders, and he found himself easily leaning into the touch.

“I could have been anyone,” Tech teased as he followed Crosshair’s line of sight over his shoulder. “Your paranoia seems to be decreasing.”

Crosshair scoffed but made no motion to push Tech away. “You ruined it.”

“Ruined what, exactly?” Tech pondered. “I was simply pointing out that you are not as skittish as you were when you first returned from the Empire.”

“That,” Crosshair drawled. “I’m sunbathing. Don’t bring up cold memories.”

Tech hummed. “I see. In that case, might I add something that might warm you up further?”

“Perhaps,” Crosshair mused, “what did you have in mind?”

His head was tipped back and Tech’s lips slotted with his own, an easy, familiar thing that puts his bones at ease. Kissing Tech was as natural as breathing. Their relationship, while wholly unexplainable, was simply something that made sense to him. He had questioned it in the beginning, afraid of what it meant on a deeper level, but allowing Tech in, exploring this side of their relationship together, was the best decision he’d ever made.

They parted, and Crosshair chased his lips for another before Tech could refuse.

“It has been 1,826.25 days since we shared our first kiss,” Tech informed him, and if he was a little breathless, well, Crosshair tried not to look smug about it.

“You were keeping count?” He chuckled. Of course, Tech had.

Tech nodded, and then, in a flash of nervousness that Crosshair almost missed, chewed on his bottom lip. It was odd, because Tech wasn’t the nervous type. He was an ‘act now, apologize later’ kind of person, and it was one of the traits that Crosshair found endearing, if not entirely annoying, about him.

“Tech?” he pressed, hoping to get something more from him. Crosshair didn’t like pushing him. Tech was the type that needed space to sort out his thoughts but kissing him shouldn’t have given him this much pause.

After a moment, Tech slid out from behind and moved to sit next to him, legs dangling over the outlook wall, and Crosshair instinctively steadied him. He might not have been there when Tech fell on Eriadu, but he would die to keep it from happening again. Only once Crosshair ensured that he was steady did he let his gaze refocus to the eyes now scarred from where his goggles had cracked. He could still get lost in them, how they were the same color as his, but warmer, because Tech was warm, kind, smart, beautiful in every sense. Tech was everything he wasn’t.

Even now, five years since their first kiss, Crosshair was so enamored with him.

“I love you,” Tech breathed out in a rush, “and now this is day one of telling you that I do for the rest of our lives. I know you are not fond of overly emot—”

“I love you, too,” Crosshair replied with a smile that he’d never given anyone else, “and I hate overly emotional sentiments, but I look forward to saying it back everyday for the rest of our lives.”

Tech’s blush was as magnificent as watching the sun descend into the ocean. His glow was as bright as the sun itself, and the warmth that radiated from the sheepish grin that spread on his lips was something that Crosshair could spend forever in.

“You know you could have said this years ago, right?” Crosshair nudged him with his shoulder, earning him a chuckle as they leaned into one another.

“You could have said it first,” Tech countered, lacing their fingers together. In the sands below, Hunter had joined Omega on the beach and twirled her as they danced in the light of sunset. Wrecker laughed, exclaiming he was next to be twirled, and Crosshair was suddenly very glad that he and Tech were far away enough to have this moment together. Peace blossomed in his chest, and he turned to press a kiss to Tech’s head.

“Yeah, I could have,” he admitted, “but this was perfect.”

[justajsworkshop]

what would happen if you really took everything you’ve learned about the law and yourself to heart? not to your mind, but to your heart? what would shift if you implemented allowing your heart to lead instead of your head?

[ghostoffuturespast]

Honestly, getting real tired carrying and supporting other folks around here when most of them aren't returning the favor...

[transzilla]

Ik I shit on city people quite a bit but the trans ppl are marginally better adjusted xnsjfjzjz trying to approach other gay people in a homophobic area as like a passoid trade working trans man is like a cruel and unusual punishment