#they need to do something. they refuse to do nothing again

[jinhyun]

—lost in translation.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: a little angst, fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers, pininggggg, miscommunication (gone right?)

word count: 5.2k

summary: hyunjin needed answers and he needed them now. even if it meant showing up at your place late at night with a few drinks in his system, ready for things to go either terribly wrong or incredibly right.

warnings: miscommunication, mentions of alcohol and drinking

author’s note: hellooo, and thank you so much for being so patient<3 this is part 23 of my social media au “heart out”. part 24 will be written as well, so don’t worry if there were a few things left unsaid in this one lol. as always, i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to leave an ask or a comment telling me your thoughts on it<3

Hyunjin was usually a very chill and spontaneous person. He did things when he felt like it, without really giving it much thought. If he wanted to do something and it felt right, then why would he hold back? He could always deal with the consequences of his own actions later.

When it came to you, however, he was the complete opposite.

Ever since he met you, he had been tiptoeing his way around your heart.

He wanted to do things right when it came to you, and, as a result, his interactions with you throughout the years tended to end up with him overthinking instead of doing.

Starting with him hiding his feelings and keeping his interactions with you to the minimum when he was still a high schooler, to him still hiding his feelings while trying to get closer to you when he entered university, to then still say nothing about them when you started dating Mingyu, up until now, that he finally got another shot at getting close to you, yet he still refused to confess his feelings until you were ready to hear it.

And that was the thing, if it were up to him and acting accordingly to how he felt in the moment, he would’ve confessed a long time ago — probably back in his first year of university, particularly when he found out you and Mingyu were dating and he felt like calling you up and letting it all out. But he wouldn’t, because although it would be a huge weight to get off his shoulders, he wouldn’t want you to deal with the burden of knowing he loved you when you didn’t love him back; not like that, at least.

He wouldn’t confess, because he didn’t want you to feel bad for not being there just yet, if ever.

He didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had because of a whim, and so he decided to deal with his feelings on his own. Until he knew for sure that you were ready to hear a confession from him, he wouldn’t say the words out loud to you.

Of course, that was up until this evening.

After coming to the conclusion that Dahye had followed her word and told you about his feelings for you, and having you distance yourself from him ever since, which could only mean you didn’t feel the same and were preparing to turn him down; and, furthermore, after hearing from Yeji that you wouldn’t mind going out with her twenty three year old coworker once you were ready to date again, there was no room in his head for him to think of the consequences of confessing to you anymore.

If you were turning him down anyway, if you were going out with someone else anyway… if he was losing you anyway, then what did he have to lose by finally letting you know how deeply he felt for you?

Maybe it was the alcohol he’d been consuming with his friends that night, or maybe it was just him simply not giving a fuck anymore — maybe both.

Whatever it was, it was giving him the final push he needed, for he was now standing outside your building, ignoring the freezing breeze of the night —as the black cotton sportswear he was wearing did little to nothing to keep him warm—, while he desperately texted you in hopes of you being awake and letting him come up, so you would finally get to talk and turn him down if that’s what you wanted to do in the end.

If you were turning him down at one point in the next two days, he would rather have you do it now.

He felt like he was going insane; like no matter what the outcome was, whether you turned him down or not, he would collapse if he didn’t get an answer within the next few minutes.

When you wouldn’t answer his texts and there were no signs of you being online, he decided to call you instead. He wasn’t giving up that easily that night, if at all.

It only took one missed call and ten more seconds waiting on the line for you to pick up.

“Hyunie?” Your sleepy yet worried voice was enough to quiet his running thoughts down. “Something happened? Are you alright?”

He stayed silent for a moment, staring up at your window.

“Hyunie?” You repeated. He heard you shift in your bed, and then he saw the light in your room turn on. “Are you there?”

“Can I come up?” He asked quietly.

Silence filled the line for a moment. “What?”

“I texted you… I think you didn’t see it” he explained. “I’m outside your building. Can I please come up? I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you now”.

“Y-Yeah… of course” you failed to hide how taken aback you were. “Help yourself in”.

“Okay…”

Hanging up, his eyes went to the front door to your building, and he suddenly felt the weight of what was about to come on his shoulders. But he was already here, and even if he turned around and went home instead, he knew he would not be able to sleep for the second night in a row as long as he didn’t clear things up with you.

He was already here and you were waiting for him upstairs, so he might as well rushed up to you.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Entering the passcode he knew by heart, he made his way into your place; taking off his shoes and putting on the slippers you kept by the door for your guests, which he knew were pretty much his by now.

As expected, all the lights were out except from the one in your bedroom, where he caught you coming out from.

He would never get tired of seeing you barefaced; and the slightly messy hair you were running your fingers through in a quick attempt to fix, along with the pastel pink silk pyjamas you were wearing, could only make him adore you even more. However, you looked tired, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for waking you up.

“Hey” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the madness inside his head calm down at the mere sight of you.

“Hey…” you softly greeted him back, leaning against your doorframe and resting your head on it. “Did something happen?”

He denied with his head, coming closer to you. “Just couldn’t wait anymore to talk to you, I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, slightly frowning when you got a closer look at him. “Have you been drinking?”

A small, surprised pout formed on his lips. What gave it away? His eyes? Was he reeking of alcohol? Or did you know him so well that a simple look at him was enough for you to tell when something was off?

“Just had a few drinks with the boys, it’s nothing” he brushed it off.

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“No, of course not” he was the one to frown this time. “I’m fine, though”.

You said nothing, but he caught the hesitation in your eyes.

“I’m fine, Y/N” he reassured you one last time. “I didn’t drink that much anyway”.

Just enough for his inhibitions to shut down; not enough not to realise what he was doing.

“Okay…” you decided to believe him.

With a light tilt of your head, you invited him into your room, where the lightning was better — although the dim light coming from the white lamp on your nightstand could only make him feel sleepier.

You sat down on the edge of your unmade bed, as you’d been sleeping up until he called you, and motioned for him to do the same. Once he did, silence was fast to take over.

“Um… I’m not—I wasn’t really prepared to talk about this now,” you messily tried to come up with the right way to approach the issue. “So I don’t know where to begin, if I’m honest…”

He understood what you were feeling perfectly. In all honesty, although he had come all the way over here to get the answer he so badly needed, he, too, didn’t know where to begin.

There was so much to say, so much to ask, so many ways to word his questions, that his mind went blank.

So, he said the first thing he could think of right then.

“Dahye told you, didn’t she?”

You looked distressed at the mention of her, and that was enough for him to get the answer he was dreading. “Sorry?”

“She talked to you?” He rephrased it.

“Mhm…” you nodded, looking down to your lap. “She did”.

“And is that why you’ve been so distant?” Hyunjin asked carefully.

You nodded again, silently. “I’m sorry, I just needed some time to think” your eyes went back up to lock with his. “How’d you know she talked to me?”

“She kinda threatened me with telling you, so…” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh… that’s…”

Crazy. She was crazy.

Hyunjin nodded, not needing to hear any words coming out of your mouth to understand what you wanted to say. “I know. I should learn not to underestimate her”.

“Yeah, I probably should, too…” you smiled weakly. “Good thing I realised something was off and didn’t believe her in the end”.

“Wait, what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

Something was off? You didn’t believe her?

“I didn’t believe her,” you repeated. “I was a bit shaken up at first, and that’s why I took some distance from you. I just needed to think about it with a cold head, but all along I didn’t want to believe it was true, so ultimately I didn’t. It didn’t sound like you at all”.

Was he tripping? Was he really way more drunk than he thought for your words to make no sense to him?

“You didn’t… want to?” Hyunjin’s heart ached, mostly hung up on those words of yours. “Would it be that bad if it was true?”

“Yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if that was the case, Hyunjin”.

I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if Dahye will always be there and I knew you’d go back to her whenever you get tired of me; is what you meant.

It would be bad if it was true that you’re in love with me, because I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you and ever love you back; is what he heard.

Just like that, for the fourth time in his life, once again because of you, his heart broke.

Although he’d come here knowing well enough that getting turned down by you was a very high possibility, actually hearing you so tactlessly say those words to him right then, and getting every chance of ever being with you crushed into pieces just like that, had his heart hurting in a way it had never before.

Feeling physically ill and finding it hard to breathe, he stood up, pacing around your room for a few seconds before he looked for support on the wall by leaning his back on it.

This might’ve been his worst heartbreak yet, for unlike the previous times, he’d let himself be led on. This time, he really thought that there was something going on between the two of you. All the reciprocated flirting and touches… had it all been him? Did you really not realise what you’d been doing to him all along?

“Hyunie…” you whispered, feeling your own heart break at the sight of him and going up to him, unable to give into your own sorrow as he seemed to have just confirmed that what Dahye told you was indeed true.

He closed his eyes as he tilted his head up to keep the tears from coming out of them.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He defeatedly shook his head when you placed your hand on his shoulder, rubbing his hands on his eyes to wipe the oncoming tears before he tried to walk away. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t a good—I can’t, I should leave” he apologised.

“So it’s true then?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for him to stay.

He shook his head no, and for just a moment there you felt relief, before he finally turned around and looked at you with reddened eyes. “Of course it’s true” his bottom lip trembled. “Why wouldn’t it be? Did I really get it all wrong?”

Your eyebrows knitted together, understanding this entire situation less and less by the second. “Get what wrong?”

“This,” he repeatedly pointed his finger from you to him. “Us. Whatever it is that I thought was going on between us”.

“Hyunjin…”

“I knew I was getting my hopes up too fast, but I thought,” he paused for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief over his own delusions. “All this time I thought what kept holding you back was our age gap, but turns out the problem was never my age, but me”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’d be willing to go out with that one other guy who’s also my age, so it was clearly never the problem”.

“What guy?”

“You know what guy”.

“Felix?” You pinpointed, not really knowing any other guys his age. Not like you particularly knew Felix either anyway. “I’m not going out with him”.

“You said you wouldn’t mind him being twenty three, though”.

“Because I don’t care about age, not because I want to date him” you tried to defend yourself. “Weren’t you the one who told me to consider dating younger guys?”

“Exactly, I told you that. Me. I said it so you would at some point consider me, not so you would start looking at other guys my age” he clarified.

“Hyunjin, I’m not—Why does age suddenly matter so much to you?”

“Because if you’re willing to date a guy who’s three years younger than you, then why can’t it be me?!”

You froze.

During all the years you had known him, you had never seen him lose his temper. He was always calm, rational. Had he ever even raised his voice in your presence other than when he got excited about something?

This was a side of him you’d never seen before, and it broke you.

Seeing him look so hopeless and sound so defeated right then, made you feel like holding him and never let go of him.

Things were moving too fast, though, and when you wanted to reach for his face and wipe the tear that had just rolled down one of his cheeks, he beat you to it; harshly wiping his face with his hands, as he refused to look away from you.

“All this time I’ve done nothing but pour my heart out to you. I’m so… so fucking in love with you it hurts me, Y/N. There are times when it physically pains me to love you this much,” he confessed.

Right now, it was one of those times.

“I’ve done everything in my hands for you to stop seeing me like the teenage boy you met back then, for you to stop seeing me just like Yeji’s little brother, and I know you’re not ready for a relationship yet, but I was willing to wait for as long as you needed me to until you were, because I was delusional enough to believe that I could actually make you fall for me” a breathless, humorless laugh abandoned his lips. “And now it turns out you just won’t ever feel the way I feel for you, and this guy shows up out of nowhere and gets everything I’ve tried to get from you right away without even moving a finger, and I just… I don’t know where to go from here”.

Your heart squeezed inside your chest.

Of all the things you were expecting as the outcome of your talk, a confession wasn’t one of them. Not this kind of confession, at least.

You were speechless. Not only did you not know what to say, but even if you did, you were sure your voice would betray you by not coming out when you opened your mouth.

Hyunjin loved you.

It wasn’t just a crush like you thought. It wasn’t him looking for something casual like you feared. No, he loved you. He was serious about you.

Why did you feel so happy yet so afraid about his feelings for you being so strong?

He took a step towards you, and you felt your heartbeat raise when his face was only a couple of inches away from yours and his breathing began to mix with yours.

“I don’t wanna give up on you, Y/N, I don’t. But I just don’t kn—What do I have to do for you to consider me?” He asked, pulling you closer by your waist. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“I’m not going out with him, Hyunjin” you repeated in a whisper, hoping this time he would believe you.

Whether he believed you or not, he leaned in closer, faintly brushing his nose with yours. “What do I have to do for you to give me a chance then?”

“Hyun…”

“I’ll do anything,” he said, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “Just tell me what and I’ll do it”.

You slowly shook your head no, unable to get any kind of word out of your mouth. Was it not obvious enough already that you did feel something for him? Had the way you talked to him and how you acted around him not been enough for him to get that you liked him as something more than just a friend? As way more than just your best friend’s brother?

You couldn’t find the right words to tell him that. The only thing you could do was to stare into his eyes, and then down into his lips, feeling the tension between the two of you grow by the second.

Hyunjin caught up on that immediately, leaning closer, so he could brush his mouth on yours for a second, before he closed the gap that kept them from touching.

Only you beat him to it.

Had you waited one more second, he would’ve been the one to press his lips on yours.

But you did not.

Instead, you were the one to press your mouth on his.

You were the one to kiss him first.

You were kissing him.

And he froze.

His right hand was still cupping your face, his left one remained on your waist, and his eyes had naturally closed the moment he felt the heavenly pressure of your lips on his. But he froze nevertheless.

For the first few seconds, he was too stunned, too overwhelmed —in the best way possible— to even react. And, unfortunately, a few seconds was all the kiss lasted; for he missed your touch right when he was about to kiss you back.

“I’m sorry” you apologised right as you pulled away and covered your mouth with your hands, as if only then coming to your senses. “Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—”

That was as much as you got to say, for in a second he had already removed your hands from your mouth and replaced them with his lips.

You’d be damned if you thought you could get away with letting him get a taste of your lips only to deprive him of you all over again.

You kissed him back right away, going against your poorly attempted apology, and driving him crazy when you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. His hands that had been previously cupping your face were now on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he tried to feel you as close to him as he could.

He kissed you like he needed you, like he’d been deprived of you for decades and was only now allowed to get a taste of you; and yet, he managed to be so gentle that you were left craving more by the second, whilst wanting him to kiss you just like that for a little longer.

After all, you didn’t know he had been dreaming of this moment for nearly seven years now.

Just like you, he, too, started wanting more. Pulling your hips harder against his and getting a small gasp of yours to part your lips, he took the chance to delve his tongue in your mouth — unable to keep the corners of his lips from curving slightly up when he felt your tongue massage his right back.

With your breathings becoming heavier, and without even dreaming of letting go of your lips just yet, Hyunjin made you take a couple of steps back, until your legs reached your bed and you instinctively sat down on it, allowing him to lean over you as he followed your mouth.

“You’re drunk…” you managed to whisper, right after you laid back on the mattress and his mouth sucked on your bottom lip once more.

“I’m fine, I’m fin—I’m perfect” he whispered in between kisses.

He was perfect. Being with you like this, with him hovering over you while your fingers gently dug into his hair and your mouths so deliciously sucked on each other, he could not be anything other than perfect.

Kissing you felt like a dream, and a part of him was afraid that it was one.

“No, Hyunjin…” you mumbled, only a couple of seconds later. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He asked, pulling slightly away from you — not enough for your lips to stop brushing.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now” you confessed what his sister had told him earlier that night and, therefore, what he already knew. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have kissed you”.

“No, don’t be sorry for kissing me. Anything but that, Y/N. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to kiss you all this time” he tenderly ran his thumb up and down on your cheekbone. “I can wait until you’re ready. Starting tomorrow morning I’ll wait all you need me to, but right now just… let me kiss you for a little longer”.

Having him whisper those words when his mouth was faintly touching yours, could only make you feel yourself give in to his plea.

“Hm?” He asked, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “One more and I’ll stop”.

Unable to speak, as it seemed to be the norm that night, you closed your eyes; and that was enough for him to take the hint and replace the thumb on your bottom lip with his mouth, sweetly sucking on it before he softly traced it with his tongue, for you to let him in and meet him midway.

The desperation of your second kiss was no longer there, as he now took his time to engrave in his memory every single second of your mouth sucking on his and your tongue massaging his own. He didn’t know when he would ever get to kiss you again, after all, and he wanted to take in as much as he could of it.

He wanted to take his time now; and kiss you slowly, deeply, lovingly.

When you were both left panting for air, he rested his forehead on yours, cupping your nape with his hand and digging his fingers in your hair before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, as a breathy laugh abandoned his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy” he confessed.

“I should be the one saying that,” you chuckled rather sadly. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me anymore, Hyunjin…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re confusing me so much right now. You say you love me and you make me feel so special, but then you go and…” you sighed, feeling him slowly withdraw his face from your neck as he tried to understand your point. “I wish it was that easy, but I can’t let myself fall for you now that I know what Dahye said is true”.

“I swear you’re making me question how much I actually drank, because that doesn’t make any sense and—You can’t do this to me, Y/N” his piercing eyes fixed on yours, and the way his voice sounded so calm now could only make your body tense up under him. “You can’t just kiss me and then tell me that…” he sighed, attempting to collect his thoughts. “If you don’t feel ready for a relationship I get it, and I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to, baby, that’s never been a problem. But you can’t just tell me that you’ll never love me back and then kiss me only to turn m—”

“When did I ever say I’d never love you back?” You questioned.

“When we were talking earlier?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I asked you if it would be so bad if what Dahye told you was true and you said yes”.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Because I can’t put myself through the hell your messy relationship with her would bring me”.

His eyebrows knitted together. “What messy relationship?”

“You know…” you avoided his eyes, only then being hit with how much the thought of him with someone else actually affected you. “This whole ‘fuck buddies’ thing and you going back to her no matter who you are with”.

“That’s ridiculous” he blurted out, almost offended that such an atrocity had just left your mouth. “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s what Dahye told me” you said.

“That’s what…” the puzzle pieces finally connected in his head. “Is that why you said you wouldn’t be able to fall for me?”

“Yes?” You tilted your head questioningly. “Isn’t that what we were talking about all along?”

He should be mad at Dahye right then. He should want to scream at her for playing with the two of you like this.

Any other time, he would’ve been fuming. Right then, however, with your troubled expression as you didn’t get what was going on, with your pretty lips all swollen from how hard he’d been kissing you up until a minute ago, and having experienced such a wide range of emotions in a matter of minutes, he could only laugh.

Tilting his head back and letting a throaty laugh escape his mouth, he slumped back next to you on your mattress and covered his face with both hands, as he let his laughter take over him.

Nervousness, madness, embarrassment, relief, happiness; it was all mixed up into one loud, painful laughing fit.

He felt like a maniac, feeling you stare at him in worry and obliviousness, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You wondered when he struggled to catch his breath.

“She lied” he explained, finally feeling like his laughter was coming to an end.

“She lied?”

“She lied” he confirmed, removing his hands from his face and wiping a couple of tears off his eyes before he locked them with you. “I don’t like her at all, Y/N. We hardly ever even talk, why would I—” he took in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he felt like he was going crazy. “Can’t believe I cried for nothing”.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, both over his last remark and over how relieved you felt to know it was all a misunderstanding, and that you had been right not to believe her in the first place.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough” you pouted, gently cupping his face when he turned to you.

He shook his head no, letting you know it was okay as he placed his hand on yours. “I didn’t specify either, so I was at fault, too” he smiled softly. “And we probably wouldn’t have ended up kissing if I hadn’t gotten so heated up anyway, so it was totally worth it”.

“You’re an idiot” you laughed once again, smiling when he leaned in and rested his forehead on yours.

“You still kissed me, though” he pointed out, bringing some heat to your cheeks. “Does that mean I actually have a chance now?”

“Was me kissing you not a good enough answer to that?”

“Kisses can mean nothing to some people, so…”

“I’m not one of those people, Hyunie” you let him know.

“Good,” he smiled, pulling you to his chest. “Because kissing you meant everything to me”.

You wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling the fabric of the black sweatshirt he was wearing and taking in his scent you loved so much.

“Shouldn’t we properly talk about what Dahye told us?” You mumbled.

“That, and about where we’re standing now, too” he agreed, sweetly tracing his fingertips up and down your back. “My head hurts now, though. I feel like I’m spiraling, I went through too many emotions in too little time”.

You giggled, looking up at him. “You want to continue this conversation tomorrow? When we’re both a little less overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “I can sleep peacefully now that I know you feel something for me, too”.

You chuckled, making his bottom lip stick out in confusion when you pulled away from him and sat up on your bed. “It’s late, you can sleep here tonight. I’ll take the couch”.

He grabbed your wrist before you could get up. “Stay with me?”

“Hyun…” you hesitated.

“I won’t try anything, I promise” he was fast to say, well aware of where your hesitation was coming from. “Just need to feel you close tonight”.

If he was honest, any other time, he would’ve offered to take the couch and that would’ve been the end of it, but tonight he really needed your closeness. He needed to know you were there, to feel you next to him. And, thankfully for him, you needed just the same.

Silently motioning for him to get under the covers, you let him know you agreed to his request. He smiled widely, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before he did as told — making you laugh wholeheartedly when you got under the sheets as well and he wasted no time to pull you to his chest again and to tuck you in with him.

This entire day had been a mess. Hell, the whole fucking week had been unbearable. But you had been able to talk it out at last. Although messily, you now seemed to be on the same page about everything; from your feelings, to what you were looking for, to where the whole misunderstanding had originated.

This may not have been the conversation the two of you were expecting to have, but it was coming soon enough. Tonight, you could just go to sleep in each other’s arms, knowing what each other’s lips felt and tasted like, and with the certainty that your feelings were reciprocated.

Neither of you would have it any other way.

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

[svtiddiess]

Show 'Em How It's Done

Synopsis: Everyone assumes Mingyu is the submissive one when it comes to bedroom activities, so he proves them wrong.

Pairing: non-idol!Mingyu x afab!reader

Genre: smut, oneshot, established relationship, non-idol au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, semi-public sex, exhibitionism? (they're in a different room but can still be heard), dom!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu and @okiedokrie for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Your eyes light up as you see the cabin you're staying for the weekend come into view. Mingyu, your boyfriend, had planned this trip with his friend group—a much-needed escape to the woods. Thanks to Seungcheol's generous use of his credit card, they managed to rent a spacious and stunning cabin tucked away in nature.

At first, you assumed Mingyu wanted a boys-only weekend, but to your surprise, he was adamant that you join them. Despite your repeated refusals, he insisted this was the perfect chance for you to finally meet and get to know his closest friends. He also claimed that he'd be extremely sad and lonely if he spent an entire two days without you, a reason that made you snort. Eventually, you gave in, and Mingyu’s excitement over your agreement was downright infectious.

After a gruelling four-hour drive, you sigh and stretch, glad to finally move your stiff limbs. Your gaze shifts to Mingyu, who’s focused on reverse parking with one hand resting on the back of your seat. Your cheeks heat up—it’s ridiculous how even after six months together, he still makes your heart flutter over something so simple. But really, who could blame you? It's not your fault your boyfriend is so hot.

"Thanks for driving, my Mingoo," you say with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"You missed," he pouts, tapping his lips with his finger.

Laughing, you lean in for a quick peck, but before you can pull away, Mingyu places a hand on the back of your head and deepens the kiss. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by soft giggles against his lips.

"Did you really think I’d let you off the hook with that weak excuse of a kiss?" He teases, his grin playful.

"You’re such a baby," you huff, rolling your eyes.

"Your baby," he counters smugly.

Still chuckling, you climb out of the car and stretch again as Mingyu unloads your luggage. Your jaw drops as you take in the sight of the large cabin before you. It’s impressive—definitely worth thanking Seungcheol for later.

"Looks like some of them are already here," Mingyu says, nodding toward the other cars parked nearby.

Suddenly, the realisation hits that you’ll be meeting most of his friends for the first time, and nerves start to bubble up. You’ve met Seungcheol and Wonwoo before, but this will be your first encounter with the entire group. Mingyu has been close with them since high school, and despite going their separate ways for college and work, their bond has remained rock-solid.

Sensing your unease, Mingyu sets down the bags and walks over to you. He takes your hand, his touch steady and comforting, and flashes you a reassuring smile.

"Don’t stress, babe. They’re going to love you. I promise," he says softly.

"But what if I embarrass myself? What if the first impression I give them is of me being a total idiot?" you groan, your palms growing clammy.

Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head. "Babe, trust me. You can’t out-dumbass them. They’re the biggest idiots I know," he says with a laugh. "So relax, okay? You’ve got nothing to worry about."

His words, paired with the kiss he plants on your forehead, manage to soothe your nerves a little. You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Mingyu squeezes your hand one last time before returning to the luggage. Taking a deep breath, you follow him inside, determined to make the best of the weekend.

Getting to know Mingyu’s friend group has been…an experience, to say the least. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were idiots but in the best possible way. They’re warm, welcoming, and a little chaotic—a combination that instantly makes you feel at ease. In fact, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin even "initiated" you into their inner circle. You’ve officially become one of the boys.

Right now, the entire group is sprawled across the living room, all varying levels of drunk, playing games. You’re sitting on the floor between Mingyu and Vernon, caught up in a lively game of Truth or Dare. Currently, Jeonghan has dared Joshua to get slapped in the face with kimchi, and to everyone’s delight, Joshua actually went through with it.

You’re doubled over, clutching your stomach in laughter, tears streaming down your face as Joshua wipes kimchi off his cheek with an exasperated expression. Jeonghan, of course, looks beyond pleased with himself.

It’s Soonyoung’s turn next, and judging by the mischievous glint in his eyes and his unsteady giggles, the alcohol is fully in charge now. He spins toward Mingyu with a maniacal grin.

"So, Gyu. Truth or dare?" he asks, practically bouncing in place.

Mingyu, who’s only slightly tipsy, shakes his head with a laugh. "Truth. I’m not risking anything."

"Boo!" Soonyoung pouts dramatically, earning exaggerated groans of disappointment from the rest of the group.

"Buzzkill!" Seokmin calls out from the couch.

"I’d rather not get kimchi-slapped by Jeonghan," Mingyu quips, casting a wary glance at Jeonghan.

"Hey, it’s an enlightening experience," Joshua deadpans, still dabbing his face with a tissue. Jeonghan simply laughs.

Soonyoung suddenly gasps, his eyes wide as if he’s just discovered the secret to the universe. "Oh my God, I got it!" he shouts, his grin downright unhinged. "Gyu, is it true that you’re the submissive one in the bedroom?!"

Your jaw drops. The room instantly explodes with laughter.

"W-What?!" Mingyu stammers, his brows furrowing in shock.

"You heard me!" Soonyoung giggles. "You’re the submissive one, aren’t you?"

Mingyu scoffs, shaking his head. "I’m not."

"Aw, come on, Gyu. Don’t be shy about it," Jeonghan teases, his grin only fueling the chaos. The laughter around you grows louder.

Your face burns as the conversation continues, the guys piling on the teasing with no mercy.

"Guys, seriously, can we not?" Mingyu whines, clearly flustered.

"Not until you admit it!" Seungcheol grins, leaning forward with mock intensity.

"It’s true, right, Y/N? Mingyu’s the submissive one in the bedroom, isn’t he?" Seungkwan chimes in, his laughter contagious.

Your cheeks heat up even more, and you hide your face in your hands, which only makes them laugh harder.

"No need to be shy, Y/N. We all know Gyu’s a massive simp for you—in and out of the bedroom," Joshua says with a wink.

You giggle softly, finally giving in. "Well…he is a huge simp for me."

The room erupts into chaos, everyone howling with laughter.

"She admitted it!" Soonyoung screams, practically rolling on the floor.

"So it’s true! He is submissive!" Jun adds, laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes.

"I knew it!" Chan chimes in, grinning from ear to ear.

Mingyu groans, his face buried in his hands. "Babe~," he whines, looking at you with a pout.

You offer him an apologetic smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. "Sorry," you murmur, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mingyu grumbles and pouts as the rest of the boys continue to roar with laughter.

The game carries on, but you notice your beer is empty. Announcing to the group that you’re heading to the kitchen to grab more, you stand up and make your way into the next room, separated from the living area by a wall.

You open the fridge and grab a bottle, then reach for the kitchen drawer to find a bottle opener—only to discover it’s missing. With a quiet grumble, you crouch down to check the lower drawers, rummaging through them in hopes of finding what you need.

That’s when you feel it—a presence behind you, someone pressing up against your back. You gasp softly and straighten up quickly, attempting to turn around, but the person behind you cages you in, their arms trapping you against the counter.

"So… it’s true, huh? That I’m the submissive one?" Mingyu’s voice is low as he whispers in your ear.

Relief washes over you when you realise it’s just your boyfriend. Letting out a soft laugh, you shake your head. "Gyu, they were just messing with you," you say, amused at how hung up he still is on the topic.

"But you didn’t deny it," he murmurs, his voice tinged with mock offence. "You told them I’m a simp for you."

"That’s because you are a simp for me," you tease, glancing at him over your shoulder.

"I am," he admits, his tone unashamed as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "But I’m definitely not the submissive one."

Before you can respond, Mingyu rolls his hips against you, his movement deliberate. The sudden sensation draws a surprised gasp from your lips.

"Right, babe?" he teases, and you can feel the smug grin spreading across his face as he continues his little game.

You bite your bottom lip, your body warming under his touch as he grinds against you, the growing pressure unmistakable. "Gyu, not here," you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. "They’ll hear us."

"That’s the whole point, sweetheart," he purrs, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Fuck, Gyu," a soft whimper escapes your lips at a particularly hard grind, causing Mingyu to chuckle.

"What if I just bend you over and fuck you right here? You would like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" He chuckles.

"Gyu, I-" A loud moan escapes your lips, and you quickly bite your lip to prevent any more sounds from escaping.

Grabbing your hips, Mingyu starts guiding your hips against his, pushing your ass against his hard cock. You feel your mind start to get fuzzy as you feel how hard he has become.

"Beg for it, sweetheart. Beg for me to ruin you with my cock," he purrs in your ear.

"Gyu, please… I need it," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with heat.

"Need what, babe?" he asks, his tone playful, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. Your soft whine only makes his grin widen.

"Need you to ruin me with your cock," you mumble.

"Good girl," he whispers before placing a kiss on the shell of your ear.

Without warning, he bends you over the kitchen counter; a yelp escapes your lips as your cheeks make contact with the cold marble. A slow, teasing hand runs down your back, leaving goosebumps in its trail; you can't help but let out a small whine of frustration, eliciting a chuckle from Mingyu.

"So impatient," he smirks as he slaps your ass, drawing a gasp from you.

He unbuckles your pants, and you help him shimmy it off of you, shivering as the cold air nips at your bare legs. He hums as he rubs a finger on your panty-clad pussy, making you whimper.

"So wet already?" he teases with a low chuckle, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Gyu, please," you plead, your voice trembling with desperation, unable to endure his relentless teasing any longer.

"Admit it," he growls softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "Admit that you're the submissive one in bed."

"I'm the submissive one in bed," you cry out, your cheeks burning. "Now, please, just fuck me already!"

Laughing at your impatience, Mingyu slaps your pussy, making you mewl as a sharp wave of pain and pleasure wash over you.

"Such a good girl. My good girl," he growls before unbuckling his pants and slipping out his cock.

Moving your panties to the side, he teases you by rubbing his dick against your folds, coating the tip with your juices. Desperate to feel him, you arch your hips back, seeking more, but Mingyu firmly holds you in place, pressing you tightly against the counter with ease. You let out a frustrated whine, wiggling your hips in a futile attempt to gain some control, but Mingyu’s strength easily overpowers you. Helpless under his grip, you surrender, letting him take the lead like the good girl he knows you are.

He spits on his cock, using it as lube, and gives it a few pumps before slowly inserting it into your tight hole. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth goes agape as you finally feel his cock inside you; his cock stretching you out deliciously. Mingyu's big, the biggest you've ever had, so every time he fucks you, it feels like the first.

Grunts escape his lips as he tries to restrain himself from slamming into you; you feel so good wrapped around him. A choked whimper escapes your lips when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. He pulls out halfway before slamming back into you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Without hesitation, Mingyu picks up the pace; each thrust rough and relentless. Broken moans and soft whimpers spill from your lips, your mind too clouded with pleasure to focus on anything but the way he fills you so perfectly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he purrs against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Be loud. Let everyone know how good I’m making you feel."

"G-Gyu," you manage to moan, your voice trembling. "S-so good… feels so good."

"Only I can make you feel this good, isn’t that right, sweetheart?" he growls, his voice rough with possession. One hand moves to grip your neck, holding you firmly in place, while the other steadies your hips.

"Yes! You—only you!" you cry out, your voice shaky as the overwhelming pleasure pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gyu, I'm so close! Please—please, please!" you beg, your words tumbling out in desperate sobs as you plead for release.

The hand holding your hips shifts to circle your clit with precision, and you scream out his name. The knot in your stomach finally unravels, and your vision blurs as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Pleasure ripples through your body, leaving you breathless as you chant his name like a prayer. Mingyu doesn't let up, his movements steady as he thrusts into you, guiding you through the intensity of your release. After a few more thrusts, he cums inside you, filling you up; your fluids mixing together.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, he slides out, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the sensation. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he adjusts your panties back into place. You cringe slightly, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to your skin.

"Keep my cum in you; I'll make sure to fuck it back into you later," he purrs, making you blush.

He helps you stand and gently guides you back into your pants before slipping into his own clothes. Running his fingers through your messy hair, he smooths it down before wiping away any drool and sweat from your face. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. When he pulls back, he nuzzles your nose with his, drawing a soft giggle from you.

"Ready to head back?" he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate.

You nod, grabbing your now lukewarm beer before following him back into the living room.

"Did we miss anything?" Mingyu asks casually as he takes a seat, acting as if he didn't just fuck your brains out a few minutes before.

"N-Nothing, you missed nothing," Soonyoung stammers, awkwardly clearing his throat as he tries to hide his very obvious boner.

Your gaze sweeps across the room, and you realise the rest of them are just as flustered, each one failing miserably to hide their boners. You burst into laughter at their awkward state, and Mingyu joins in, clearly enjoying the moment.

With a smug grin, Mingyu looks around at his friends before cupping your face and pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. The room fills with groans and exaggerated complaints.

"Get a room!" someone yells, earning more laughter from the both of you.

You giggle into the kiss, relishing the playful teasing, while Mingyu smirks against your lips, clearly pleased to have proven their earlier jabs entirely wrong.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

[bombuni]

a super whiny reader with seonghwa that lovessssss someone who whiny. i think he could have like voice kink? if thats makes sense

lose your breath

summary: seonghwa knows every square inch of your body and understands the detailed map of your mind. he just thinks it’s fun to toy with you, his perfect doll. genre/pairing: bf!seonghwa x fem!sub!reader, soft smut. warnings: smut 18+ mdni, mommy!seonghwa, bratty reader, sort of humiliation kink & dacryphilia, hwa is a munch bom note: im sorry this took so long :( but i hope this exceeds your expectations! also fuck drugs u ever been addicted to mommy!hwa that shit will kill u 💔

It’s been 2 days without a single touch.

There’s a look in Seonghwa’s eyes, a telltale twitch in the upper corner of his lips every time he moves towards your lips, leaning over you so gently but so oppressively it’s as if he’s trying to melt into you. As soon as you move an inch towards him, he backs away again, smirking and pretending as if there’s not a tent in his pants with the way your eyes well up and your breaths shake.

He loves this. Hearing how you’re broken down to your senses with just the thought of getting to kiss him. He especially loves hearing your complaints, your shaky and meek voice calling his name timidly. You quietly beg for something, anything, but it takes you another bit to realize the game he’s playing.

It’s a slow morning. Seonghwa has the day off, and you’ve both decided to use it to watch the Star Wars prequels (per his request.) The marathon is just about to start as you both prepare snacks in the kitchen, moving around each other like you’ve been programmed to move in a certain pattern.

“Hmm, do we have popcorn, Hwa?”

He unwittingly smiles at the way you say his name, “There should be a bag in the cabinet above you, pretty.”

You reach for the cabinet, but find that it’s impossible to even touch the handle, “Hwa, I need your help…”

“Ah, you do? Whatever for?” The teasing lilt in his voice tells you he knows exactly what you’re asking for, but he just wants to hear you ask. Maybe even make you beg a little.

You pout at him which only makes him smirk and cross his arms. You’re stuck in a stand off now, with both of you refusing to give in to the others wants. Seonghwa knows that eventually you’ll give in. He likes waiting until you can’t take it anymore. Until it’s bubbled up to the boiling point inside you and there’s nothing left to do but let it spill out.

“Agh, you’re so annoying, Hwa! You won’t even kiss me unless I beg and now you’re making me-“

Ah, there it is. He just enjoys torturing you. A glare of your eyes grants you a chuckle from him.

He raises a brow, smiling devilishly as he cocks his head to the side, “You’re cute when you’re being a whiny baby, ya know?”

“I’m not being whiny, you’re just mean…”

“Cute, cute, cute,” he mumbles mostly to himself. Seonghwa’s hands land on your cheeks as he moves closer to you, squishing them together until you feel like you’re gonna pop.

You grumble, but finally feeling his hands on you (in the most innocent of places) sends you into overdrive. Your knees buckle, catching yourself against Seonghwa’s strong chest. The feeling of him against you, hearts beating and pressed together, his bulge standing at attention, and his sparkling eyes watching you like you’re the only one he needs is…overwhelming.

After he’s staved you off of him for days, he’s so full of ecstasy and a certain buzz only you can give him when you finally, finally beg in the adorably pitiful way he loves so much.

There’s already tears in your eyes, “Mommy…”

Your voice sends chills down his spine, “Sweet, sweet thing, tell me what you need exactly. Use your words.”

“Need to-“ you pause to emphasize your words with a drag of your hips against his, “feel you,”

He chuckles at you to disguise the moan that threatens to slip out, “Really? Already? Couldn’t go any longer without Mommy inside you?”

You blush at his harsh words, “Hwa-“

Seonghwa gives you a certain look, one that tells you you’re in a world of trouble if you continue your bratty, combative attitude. It’s enough to remind you to be good for him.

“Sorry, mommy…”

Your meek voice and the way you shrink into him makes him swoon. A drive to destroy that sweetness and leave you a broken, moaning mess takes over him.

“Hmm. I think you’ve waited long enough. Do you want your reward?”

The prospect of getting anything from him fills you with an overwhelming need to obey his every command. He is your owner, and he’s made that very clear so far with the feelings he manages to evoke in you.

“Please, mommy, just need anything-“

Seonghwa thinks it’s cute how your chest rises and your breath quickens as he pushes you onto the counter. His arms squeeze you as they lift you, burning where your skin meets his, sending that trail of warmth down to your core. He throws you around like a doll and undresses you like it’s nothing to either of you. He gets so careless when he’s like this, only fueled by your pathetic nature and reaping the rewards he’s been waiting for this entire time.

Just his bratty, needy, doll ready to take what he decides to give.

He runs his cold hands down your sides, watching you shiver at his touch. His slender fingers reach under the waistband of your panties, teasingly snapping the elastic against your skin and watching as you twitch at the feeling. You whine impatiently as he teases you like this, massaging your tits while he gently kisses down your jawline as if he had all the time in the world. His soft lips reach down to your collarbone as he pulls the collar of your shirt to ensure every part of your skin feels his lips. He chuckles when he feels the vibrations of your moans against his mouth.

“Ok, enough teasing then,” you exhale as if finally relieved of a great weight on your shoulders before spotting that same perverted smirk, “…But can you beg for mommy again? Just one more time?”

He encourages you with a wet kiss on your pulse point, nuzzling your skin to fog your brain with him, “Hah-it’s- embarrassing, mommy,”

You feel his smile against your neck, “But you know I love it, right, pretty? You just sound so cute when you do,”

Seonghwa finally drags his lips down to where you want him the most. His hot breath fans against your core, taking in the hypnotizing sound of your eager and aching whines, as he finally drags your panties down to be greeted with the sight of your pretty pussy.

He can’t resist himself, pressing a kiss to your clit and chuckling as your body jolts just like he knew it would, “My pretty doll. So behaved for me, so perfect. You always listen to Mommy, don’t you?”

He punctuates his sentence by licking a long stripe along your slit, “Hah-Yes! Yes, Mommy, I’m always good for you-“

Seonghwa talks to you in between licks of your slick, enjoying the taste of you and the sound of your unashamed submission. Finally getting you like this, with you so sex-crazed and clouded by his touch that you don’t even realize how pathetic you sound, is his favorite thing in the world.

His mouth explores the parts inside you he knows overwhelm your senses. His lips swallow you whole, tongue darting all over and inside you to drag out those sounds he loves. His left hand comes up to rub your clit, following what he knows your body likes. It’s like a ritual to him. The blatant way he follows your body’s signals and your whines is just another testament of his love to you.

He feels your body tighten, your hands coming down to his hair to pull and urge him to let you off that cliff. His eyes roll at the harsh tugs you give, your raw desperation to reach that high rubbing off onto him.

Your trembling, breathless voice sounds out, “Mommy, c-can I cum?”

“Yes, baby. Come on, you wanna be good, don’t you? My pretty doll, so behaved, don’t disappoint me now…”

Seonghwa’s words reach towards your insides, pulling at the strings of your soul and releasing that knot he’s built. Your body shakes against his mouth, which still eagerly clings onto you and cleaning up the mess he caused. He caresses you through your aftershocks, adoring the little twitches your body gives as you come down to Earth.

Your watery eyes meet his fervent ones as he wipes his mouth clean, looking all too joyful to stew in your embarrassment at this sight.

Seonghwa decides that just a little more teasing won’t hurt, “You got through the The Phantom Menace. Think you can make it through Attack of the Clones?”

[witherby]

Heyyyyy *leans on expensive car* what are you cooking up for the next mer!reader part?😌

-🌭

Heyyy hotdog 😏 ur about to see it babycakes

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader

Part 8

Masterlist is Here!

It's a very grueling two days of monitoring for you in the med bay. You're kept sedated on a wet gurney so you can be examined for wounds, but there's nothing physically wrong with you. They poke and prod you, take your blood, and run test after test after test to see what could've made you turn so bad so quickly, but those results run clean too.

It's a psychosomatic effect, then. Something is distressing you so much that your body is responding to your mental state. When asked about it, Bruce just rubs his face exhaustedly asks the team to make a new care plan that involves Damian's involvement as much as possible.

When you're deemed healthy enough to return to your tank, they wean you off sedation and carefully deposit you back into the water with a special health monitoring cuff on your wrist.

While you were gone, your castle spire had the top half turned into a removable hideaway in case you got stuck again; it now clicks on and off from the bottom half, a little like a Lego, for your safety.

It takes you a day to fully shake the medicine off, so you spend most of it in a weird daze, but when full alertness returns to you, you pick at the bracelet a while, then tiredly float to the surface to receive breakfast from Jon. And Jon is there like normal, sitting on the lip of the tank with a smile, but he's not the one holding your bucket.

It's Damian.

Damian, who looks at you with wide eyes, like he can't believe you're here and you might vanish if he blinks. Damian, who stands there and stares like you're the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. Damian, who looks just as anxious as you feel. The bucket in his hands is trembling minutely.

It's Damian. He's here. He's here. He's here.

He just stares. You don't know what to do except stare back, locking onto those brilliant, emerald eyes you practically begged to see for weeks. The sudden, unadulterated attention from him makes something twist inside you, and you don't know if it's positive or negative.

Jon clears his throat and quietly calls your name. You glance at him.

"Feeling up for a meal? I've got a couple puzzles, too, if you want them. If you're still woozy from the meds, then that's okay too."

Damian seems to pull himself together and finally offers you the bucket. You hesitate just a moment more, then reach out and take it. The tips of your fingers just barely graze his.

You hold the food to your chest, staring at him. Damian stares back. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he opens his mouth like he's about to speak.

You quickly turn away and drift a few feet from the tank's edge, starting to eat. His stuttered gasp tells you the message was well-received.

Jon sucks in a sympathetic breath through his teeth, reaching out and squeezing Damian's forearm. "Give 'em time," he whispers. "You've been away a while, y'know? I'd probably feel a little abandoned, too."

"It wasn't on purpose," Damian mutters, eyes burning. He fights it down, refusing to cry when there is nothing to cry about. His old position as primary caretaker was reinstated (albeit, Jon is secondary caretaker, now, but he'll take what he can get), he's no longer barred from seeing you, and he's got another chance to fix this companionship. He just needs you to give him the ability to act on this chance.

He needs to earn your trust again. He can do that. He will do that, no matter the cost.

--

You're not up for playtime that day, or the day after. When either one of your caretakers mentions getting into a wetsuit, you react unenthusiastically, so they stay out of the tank to respect your wishes.

Damian is visibly distressed by your refusal to engage with him. He uses your name, he offers you toys and treats, and only tries to call you Princess once before you release a low, threatening warble, and does not try again. If he was so upset by being ignored, then fair is fair. Maybe he shouldn't have done it to you. Prick.

The stinging in your chest at the sight of him doesn't get any better, but it also doesn't get any worse. According to your vitals you're stabilizing, but the beautiful florescence of your tail hasn't quite been restored ever since that fateful incident with Bruce pulling Damian away. The missing patches of scales have regrown by now, but your entire color palette seems overall paler. Less enthused and iridescent. Almost defeated, like you've settled into a life of complacency.

The routine adjusts, and you with it. You quietly accept food at mealtimes and half-heartedly engage with toys. During the tours, you go through the motions of swimming idly around and doing basic loops. You no longer press your body against the glass to stare at and admire all the guests. You no longer steal the buckets to make your caretakers dive in and retrieve them. You no longer chirp or chitter or trill.

It's killing Damian, the guilt threatening to swallow him whole. He's tried everything to get you back to how you used to be — old games, sitting and talking to you, even getting into the water to try and play hide and seek — but you are absolutely not interested. Nothing is working.

And when nothing works, he goes back to the basics. He reenters Bruce's office and takes out your files; he pours through them all, page by page, paragraph by paragraph, to scrape together any fleeting idea of how to bring your incredible spark back.

He's flipping through some documents detailing behavior in wild Mer pods when he finds his answer, and he knows what he needs to do.

Damian asks for an hour to speak to his dad. There's an entire myriad of questions thrown at him, most he can answer and some he can't. There's almost shouting, but Bruce manages to cool them both down again. There's a lot of negotiating, a lot of it, but finally, finally, he gets the green light. He leaves his father's office feeling more confident about you than he has in weeks, and it shows.

The following morning, when you drift to the surface to get breakfast, Jon is there with the bucket, and Damian is there with a rock. It's a small thing, barely the size of your palm, but it's beautifully painted. It's not one of the rocks you've had before, meaning he's not re-gifting you something you gifted him.

It's something he made. For you. He made a gift for you.

"Good morning," Damian says, and your eyes snap to his. "I've brought you this. I want...I wanted to express my..."

He sighs, brow furrowing. You tread the water patiently.

"I am sorry," he finally says. "I'm sorry I allowed my father to separate me from you. I'm sorry I started acting like you didn't exist. I was so angry to see Jon replace me that I feared you would not need me anymore."

Your expression doesn't change. Damian swallows thickly.

"Maybe my phrasing is poor. I don't want you to need me. I simply...I care about you a lot. And I did not think you cared as much, so I took to ignoring you almost entirely. But I thought about you all the time. I wondered if these imbeciles were cleaning your tank properly, or remembered that you don't like red snapper when they feed you, or if anyone was playing with you enough."

Damian inches a little closer to the edge of your tank. He holds the rock out to you. His hands are shaking.

"You don't trust me anymore. That's understandable, and a very logical move on your part. But I want to earn it back. I want to prove to you that I'm here to stay this time."

He leans over the edge a bit, eyes locked onto your own.

"I will do whatever it takes to ensure you don't feel alone again."

You pull your gaze away from his and move closer to examine the rock. The bright, rich colors and intricate patterns painted into it make something ease up in your chest. You feel like you can breathe just a little bit easier.

Your hands emerge from the water, rivulets trailing down your palms and wrists, and gently take the stone from him.

Damian's entire body relaxes, relief making a smile appear on his face.

It promptly vanishes, replaced by indignant sputtering when you spit a bunch of water at him. He coughs and wipes his face, then blinks to find you swimming to the bottom of your tank to find the best place to stick your present. You're moving so much faster, so much more energetically than you were before.

"There you are, Princess," Damian whispers into the water, grinning wide.

"...are they gonna come back up and eat?" Jon asks, still sitting with the bucket. "Cause...we can't re-refridgerate this with the other food. It'll have to get tossed."

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you  to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[hoonieyun]

that's what im here for

pairing: park jongseong x reader genre: fluff!!! warnings: i dont think there is any?? lmk if i miss something though 18+

synopsis: yn is sick and her boyfriend, jay, takes care of her!

wc: 558

hoonieyun notes: im sick asf rn and my boyfriend has been so sweet for taking care of me and i just had to write a drabble about it LOL anyways i hope everyone is well & are in good health!!

your night had been restless. your nose was clogged, congested, you had a migraine, and it didn’t help that you were also overheating and nothing was able to cool you down. you barely slept the night before and right now you wished you could sleep but you’re just staring blankly at the wall of your boyfriend’s bedroom, mouth open so you could breathe and the soft humming sound of the humidifier that was running in the corner of his room was filling the silence of the room. 

you blinked a few times with a sniffle as you heard the bedroom door slightly creak as it opened. “babe? you awake?” jay says, walking over to where you’re laying on his bed and crouching down in front of you. you groaned and nodded as you locked eyes. although you told him plenty of times that he shouldn’t be in such close proximity to you; he refused and continued to do his best to nurse you back to full health. 

“okay, come on you need to take your medicine again.” he informs you and you sluggishly sit up in the bed, groaning at the idea of having to take the bitter medicine. jay hands you the small cup with the vibrant orange liquid and you down it in one go, your face contorting slightly into a displeased expression when the bitter taste goes down your throat. jay offers you a glass of water and lemon and you take it instantly, wanting to wash away the bitter taste. “thank you, babe.” you say and jay helps you settle back comfortably in his bed. 

“you’re so cute.” he says with a soft chuckle and an adoring smile. 

“cute?” you ask and he just nods with the same smile. 

“babe, im open mouth breathing, coughing and sneezing like a 70 year old dad, and i sound like i have a tuba stuck in my throat… and you think im cute?” you say, surprised at his words because in all honesty; you were the furthest from cute. even your own mom wouldn’t call you cute at this state. 

“of course, you’re cute. you’re always cute, ok?” he says, patting your head gently as you pout at him. how did you get so lucky to have such a sweet boyfriend?

you and jay have known each other for upwards of a year but after months of dates he finally asked you to be his girlfriend and although it’s been less than a month since you were official, he’s been nothing but great and an even better boyfriend than he was when you two weren’t official yet. 

“thank you for taking care of me.” you say, grabbing his hand before he walks off to put away your medicine. “of course, baby.” he says, a warm smile on his face. 

“i’m your boyfriend, i’m going to do everything i can to make you feel better and happy. 

i don’t care if you’re sick, i’m going to take care of you.

that’s what i’m here for.” 

his words alone heal your sickness and you can’t help but imagine a life of forever with him. 

“besides, if i get sick then it’s your turn to take care of me!” he says teasingly, a wide cheesy smile as you roll your eyes at him, the two of you laughing it off. 

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

write more aaron warner you're amazing 🫶

took me long enough but omgggg I got this req done!! thank you so much for you compliment and your request!! I hope you enjoy 🤍🤍 and in all seriousness i am really grateful for your patience with these requests, I realise that it’s taken me far too long to get around to doing them!!

title: you’re not him

pairing: aaron warner x reader

synopsis: something’s off with aaron but he won’t tell you what…

warnings:

a/n: thank you so much for reading 🤍🤍

taglist: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @fleuriosa @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @lovethornes @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces @hermesenthusiast

By the time I’d gotten out of the shower, Aaron still wasn’t out of his office. He’d been there for hours, hunched over the same piece of paper. A little worried, I go to check on him, walking in to find him sitting there, so upright it look like a type of victorian punishment, pen down, staring out into the distance. My footsteps echo down the walkway but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Aaron, love,” I murmur gently, my voice a tender, steady hum over the soft silence.

He doesn’t respond and just stares forwards, lost in a hypnosis of his own thoughts. I’ve seen him like this before and I know it’s not a good thing.

“Aaron,” I say again, a little louder and slightly more urgent.

“Hmmm,” he hums in response not even meeting my eye.

The worry in the pit of my stomach only blossoms like a cherry tree in the springtime, with coiling, twisting branches of anxiety, flowering the most delicate petals of panic.

I chew the inside on my cheek, “what’s wrong?” I dare to ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, his voice distant like he wasn’t quite in the room with me.

“Aaron,” I whisper, sliding my hands up his back slowly with the gentlest fingers, only to stop at his shoulders to massage the tension knots out.

“Yes love,” he says to me, avoiding my gaze even though I know he can feel it burning a hole in the back of his skull.

“Talk to me,” I urge him in barely a whisper.

He shakes away my touch and my hands fall slack to my sides, weighted with rejection.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he sighs, standing up, his back to me.

I inhale deeply. I don’t want to get emotional because usually I’m not, but something about this cold, distant manor struck something in my chest.

“Aaron please,” I say, stepping in front of him, placing one hand on his chest. There’s a rawness to my voice that makes my throat ache, “you have to stop shutting me out, I thought we got past this.”

“You should go and rest,” he murmurs finally meeting my eyes, as he puts his hands on my rounded belly.

I understand now why he refused to look at me for so long. His eyes speak words he has no control over. Deep in the green lies all his pain. Whatever is going through his mind isn’t pleasant.

Still, my specification to address the matter is still being turned down. He’s completely avoiding the subject matter, as if the words never left my lips. He used to be like this all the time, closing me off, locking himself away, drowning in his own issues, refusing to even touch the lifeline bobbing on the surface for him to hold onto.

Aaron had always been stubborn, he didn’t want help. He’d rather stay silent and carry his own burden, rather torment himself into an unhealthy state than ask. Good damage, he used to call it. But once, it got too much and he finally let me in and he made a promise. He promised he wouldn’t go back to way he was. Not with me.

I fold my arms and pin my eyes to his, “I won’t rest until you tell me what’s wrong.”

An ultimatum. I need his attention.

“I promise, love, I’m perfectly happy,” he lies, with a forged smile, “I have you and our beautiful, beautiful child that you’re carrying, what more could I want?”

It’s not the lie that hurts, it’s not even how easily he managed it. It’s the fact he feels he has to lie to me, to hide from me.

“I can feel it when you’re not right you know,” I whisper, touching my heart, “in here.”

He looks at me, his emerald eyes burn. For a moment his expression softens, he breathes a little. He’s less chief commander and more the Aaron I know. The kind man, with soft eyes, gentle hands and sweet lips. The man who would burn the world for me or stand by my side as I burnt it. My Aaron. Then something shifts, a bitter frost comes in and sends an icy sheet all over.

“I need to shower,” he says quickly, “get some sleep, love, you look tired.”

I could’ve stayed there and argued. I wanted to, but he turned away too fast predicting my next move. I run my fingertips over my bump and sigh. He’s right, I am tired. I just hate it when he wasn’t okay, in fact I can’t bear it. It’s as if someone iswas torturing me, burning me alive, scraping my skin off a centimetre at a time, plucking my eyeballs out.

I walk to our bedroom slowly, pushing down my annoyance in the helplessness I feel. If he doesn’t talk, I can’t read his mind, I can’t know his problem, I can’t help. I get into bed, slipping under the covers but not laying down quite yet.

I listen for the shower running but don’t hear a sound, only the soft sloshing of bath water. Aaron bathes when he is stressed, so this only confirmed further that something was playing on his mind.

I try to wrack my fogged mind for what it could be. His work in rebuilding our government had been extensive and stressful but he had never caved under that sort of pressure before. He usually thrived under it. This was something else, I am almost sure of it. But what else? Is it something I’ve done? As far as couples go, I’d always thought we’d handled problems well but maybe he did have a problem with me, maybe I’d done something wrong…

I’m suddenly aware of the bathroom door opening, interrupting my train of thought, as its light shines into the bedroom. Aaron walks in and I can tell he’s caught off guard with the fact that I’m awake. Something between alarm and shock splashes through his eyes for a fraction of a second as he approaches. His eyebrows slowly draw inwards, pinching together in concern.

“You’re still awake, love?” he asks me.

I hum in reply.

“Why do you feel guilty?” Aaron says suddenly, going very still.

I sometimes forget he can feel what I feel, “have I done something?” I reply, “is that why you’re acting off?”

His face breaks into a sad sort of smile, “no, not you, never you.”

I rest my head back on the headboard, fighting with droopy eyelids to keep myself awake. I don’t push him any further, as long as it wasn’t my doing, I would wait for him to be ready to tell me.

He slips into the bed beside me and holds my cheek in one hand, his thumb gently brushing just under my eyes. I melt into his touch, the exhaustion getting stronger and stronger by the second.

“Oh love,” he murmurs, his voice so tender it makes my hearts ache.

I smile tiredly letting the weight of my head fall into his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes pinned to me roaming over my every feature as if it were the most mesmerising sight he’d ever seen, “so so beautiful.”

“Hold me,” I mumble into his warm skin, craving his touch, to be in his arms.

“Of course,” he says, enveloping his arms around me and tucking me into his chest, hiding me away from the rest of the world.

I breathe him in, the warmth of his skin on mine, our hearts thumping to the same beat. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, my face buried in his skin. I feel myself grow heavier, less alert as I match my breathing to his.

“Do you want to lay down?” he whispers, probably noticing how my limbs growing heavy.

I hesitate for a moment.

“I won’t let go,” he says, reading my mind, “I promise, I only suggested it because it might make it easier for you to sleep that way.”

I don’t want to sleep, not really. There’s still a part of me that wants to know what’s wrong but my body can only fight the exhaustion for so long. Still, I am committed to stay awake just a little longer.

We lay down together, his arms still around me. I’m cocooned in his body. His hand meet at the bottom of my swollen belly, holding my bump with the utmost care, as if it were the most delicate thing on this universe. His chest is pressed firmly against my back, warm and protective as his legs intertwine themselves with mine. I can feel his slow and steady breathing on the back of my neck, tickling me slightly. The silence between us is heavy and makes my ears ache for sound but I couldn’t think of the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry,” he says, a little strained, in a low voice as if the noise was coming from the back of his throat.

Confusions washes a tidal wave over me, “what are you apologising for?”

I don’t get a response for a long while. I almost think he’s fallen asleep, after his breathing slows. His heart beat a little faster than usual against my back, my only indication that he’s working himself up to admit something. Something that makes him nervous to say out loud. I wait, giving him the time to form the words and the courage to say them.

“I find it hard to talk,” he begins slowly. I can hear each syllable is a struggle for him to say.

“I know,” I murmur, bringing his hands to my lips. I kiss them both gently to silently tell him that I am here to listen when he is ready. He doesn’t have to tell me tonight, or tomorrow night, or even the night after. However long he needed, I would wait for. He understands what I’m saying without me having to even say the words. And still he chooses to whisper seven words into my ear.

“I don’t want to let you down.”

It takes me by surprise. Aaron Warner is not a man to doubt himself, least of all doubt himself and blatantly admit it.

“Aaron what are you talking about?” I ask, rolling over so our noses touch, “you could never let me down.”

“No,” he murmurs shakily, something between pain and fear clouding over his emerald eyes, “listen love, I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Mess what up?” I say softly, my brows pinched with a gentle confusion, “tell me, explain to me.”

“I…” he falters, “…can’t.”

I take my palms to his face and hold him.

“I have seen every part of you,” I tell him, “your worst and your very best, I’m no stranger to the bad parts, so let me help you, let me in, please Aaron.”

Silence hangs in the empty space, never tiring of the wait, never growing impatient.

“I’m scared, love,” he responds finally, his voice so small I barely register it when he speaks, “I’m so so scared.”

“Scared?”

The question slips my lips before my brain has a chance to suppress it. I hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Aaron had never once, in our whole relationship, before and after marriage admitted that sentence aloud. Even when he’d looked the most petrified, physically shaking, a deathly pale, he didn’t say it.

So why now?

“I’m not going to do this right,” he continues, his words sharp and frantic, “I’m not going to be a good enough father, I’m going to ruin this child like my father ruined me, I wasn’t taught how to be a good father, I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m going to mess everything up.”

My heart shatters on the spot. It splits into a million tiny shards that hit the inner walls of my chest like shrapnel.

“Oh Aaron,” I melt, “you don’t need to be taught anything, you’re already the best man I’ve ever met, you’re not ruined at all. And you will be a good father no matter who your father was.”

“What if I become him?” he asks me, his eyes wild with panic, “worse than him?”

I wish in that moment that I’d been the one to kill his father. I would’ve made it the most excruciating experience on this planet. He would’ve been sorry before he went six feet under because no man deserves this torture, especially not Aaron. How dare the monster that called himself a father haunt his soul from the grave. It’s not right. It’s not fair.

“You won’t,” I tell him, “I know it.”

“You can’t be sure of something like that,” he replies, shaking his head, doubting all he is, all he’s accomplished, all his goodness.

I only wish he could see himself the way I see him. Maybe then he might understand.

“But I am,” I say, my voice more raw, more passionate. I know he can feel my emotions, I know he can feel the strong belief I have in him, the love that overpowers my senses. “Look at me Aaron, I know you and you are the furthest thing from the person that man was. You are going to be amazing at this and this baby is going to be so lucky and so so loved.”

He stares at me.

“I’ve never been more in love with you than I am right now,” he murmurs into my lips, kissing me slowly, passionately, longingly.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now,” I reply as he draws soft circles with him thumb on my stomach.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t thank me for telling you the truth,” I reply, “and for the record you deserve every inch of me.”

“Sleep, love,” Aaron tells me gently, holding me tenderly in his arms, with a small smile on his lips, “and I’ll be here when you wake up, always.”

So I stop fighting my tired eyes and finally gave in, letting the night take me as her child, as I fall asleep in Aaron’s arms.

sorry for the lack of fics 😭😭 school has literally taken it out of me this week anywayysss thanks for reading!!

shatter me masterlist

[sammyluvr]

✶ out of my head — spencer reid

cw : gn!bau!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, mental exhaustion, very little dialogue, unedited, 985 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : a motel bathroom + “i can’t get you out of my head.”

the town is small, the case is hard, and the nights aren’t restful. for this week, it’s two to a seedy motel room. spencer’s your roommate this time around, which helps nothing at all. you should be used to how beautiful he looks when he’s sleepy and just woken up in the morning, but it makes your chest tighten to the point where you nearly stop breathing. it’s not as if you haven’t shared a room with him for a case before, but there’s some weird intimacy about sharing this room.

he’s in the bathroom, washing his hands, as he’s been doing often this trip. the first time you walked into the room with him, go-bags heavy after a long flight, he sprouted off some statistic regarding the cleanliness of motel rooms, or rather the lack thereof. you think he was trying to cover up how nervous it made him, and you offered to take his sheets and blanket to the laundromat you passed. the signage had told you that it’s always open late. you certainly wouldn’t mind extra clean sheets either.

he refused, though, saying he’d do it himself if he really needed to, and that you shouldn’t have to do that for him. but you don’t really think about it in terms of should or shouldn’t, more so that it makes you glad to do anything for him at all. you stay quiet though, and let this one slide. as long as he sleeps alright, it’s fine with you. 

sleeping well is a relative term, of course. it’s two in the morning right now, and you’ve just gotten back from the station. hotch sent you all to bed after a break in the case. the night shift detectives will keep working until you all get at least a bit of rest.

you drift over to the bathroom, its warm light casting spencer’s form in soft shadow. he hears your sigh before your quiet footsteps, and turns his neck to look at you. he gives you a soft smile, drying his hands on the small towel. you try not to stare; he has very pretty hands.

“hey,” he murmurs, making no move to leave the bathroom. he can tell by the way you padded over that you don’t actually need the room for anything. that, and you used it and brushed your teeth first thing after getting back. you’ve already donned your sleep clothes, too. you move forward, and he steps back, leaving room for you at the sink. the heels of your hands meet the cool ceramic of the sink as you lean against it, facing him from less than a foot away. the bathroom most definitely is not a generous size.

“hey,” you echo, voice just as soft as his. to him, you sound even more tired than usual. resigned, even. he’s trying to decide if you’ll respond decently to him asking if you’re okay. you speak again before he can decide. “spence?”

“yeah?” he wants to call you honey, but he doesn’t. but the way you say his name is begging for him to respond with equal sweetness and intimacy. or maybe honey is doubly sweet and intimate, but to him, your voice saying his nickname like that is the same as if you called him baby. he’s shy, but he wishes you’d call him that.

you look at him with sad eyes and he wishes that look would go away. i can’t get you out of my head, you want to say. “i’m tired,” is what comes out, anticlimactic and falling flat on the tile floor.

but his eyes fill with sympathy regardless and he gives a little frown on your behalf. even if you were going to say something else, the words that leave your lips are just as true. you are tired, very much so. not just from the case or the lumpy bed, but from everything, you suppose. it’s a bone deep type of exhaustion, and somehow your growing love for him is the only thing you can think about these days. it’s pressing to get out and make itself known, and now it feels heavy and oppressive.

“it’s been a long day,” spencer agrees. he knows how you feel, at least in terms of the exhaustions, and that it’s really not about just today. but he also knows that you know that, and that there’s not much to say. not right now, at least. it’s not the time for that sort of conversation, he can tell.

you swallow, suddenly nervous. you’re asking yourself why the hell you walked into this damn bathroom, put yourself so close to him without the option to actually close the distance. but you sort of just want to hug him. you want to get it off your chest, because you think it’ll make some of the exhaustion go away. though things could certainly get worse.

“i can’t get you out of my head, you know.” this time, the words slip out before you can stop them. you’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, the right way to tell him, but you suppose the meaning is implied and that you’ve gone out and said it, finally. that makes your shoulders drop, and a relieved huff of breath leaves your lips. even if he doesn’t feel the same, at least you’ve said it.

most other days, spencer would’ve kissed you, maybe after clumsily telling you that he can’t get you out of his head either. but today, you’re sagging and tired, so he pulls you into his arms with a certain sort of ease that tells you he doesn’t mind being close to you. he likes it, even. he presses a kiss to the bare skin of your forehead, and that’s your answer. he’ll stay stuck in your head, but it will be far more bearable because he loves you back.

[j-partneringrime]

tr!aimsey is such an interesting character especially their relationship with death, they’re someone who has become so intrinsically linked with death, starting as a morbid fascination with learning more about it which became more and more obsessive until he eventually overstepped trying to directly mess with it. And now it is a more desperate fascination with it and specifically trying to figure out how to reach it for themselves which unlike the normal curiosity that they went too far with, this is the opposite, a much more serious and desperate curiosity which he have basically given up on trying to figure out at this point. Because once death wants something, it gets it, which normally isn’t that big a deal because death normally wants you to die, which is gonna happen eventually, so no big deal. But if you mess with death too much and it decides it doesn’t want you anymore, that isn’t as simple, death actually gets to show its power, so it takes your magic you used to disrupt it to begin with, but that’s not enough for death, so it gives you immortality, or more accurately curses you with never dying since they can still feel the pain and the dying but without any of the relief of death and the pain stays with them even after coming back, with the burns from losing her magic, losing his eye from the enderman/creeper and now the sword slash from ros. They had nothing anymore except their studies and so she put everything into necromancy and learning more about death, and they did good, they got close, so close that death didn’t like it, so then they truly had nothing, not even their magic, they lost everything, even the one thing you always have in life, the certainty of death, was gone.

That could make you become such a deeply lonely person, I mean imagine if you lost everything, had no one, not even death itself wanted you, that would mess you up, but she has had a long time to come to terms with it and grow from it, which also means she’s one of the most intelligent, especially emotionally intelligent, people, which meant that when they did get close to people again, they were a massive help for advice and help for their friends, which is good for their friends but also for aimsey themself, having that connection that they need after so long, having meaningful talks gives a connection you can’t explain, even if those meaningful talks are mostly one way, since aimsey is very secretive about themself and her past and almost refuses to say anything about herself and dismisses any attempt to try to get him to open up, but even with all that, it is still massively helpful for a character who needs connection so much.

Until eventually his friends, especially tr!ros get too strong an idea in her head on what they should do or what she “needs” to do that even though she’s still coming everyday for advice, she doesn’t seem to actually be listening anymore, it didn’t matter how many times they tried to help ros, she just wouldn’t budge from this inherently flawed idea that she is convinced will help her, and everyone else, which isn’t just bad for ros but also for aimsey, who has needed this connection so much and has begun to rely on it, even if it’s annoying that he’s seemingly the only person who actually has common sense or foresight with how much advice she’s having to give out, they’ve gotten used to being able to express their thoughts and opinions on situations and having their friends listen and care so seeing that they’re no longer really listening and are just doing their own ideas anyway would really hurt. Trying to help and make plans to help ros, only to show up the next day and find out she hasn’t actually listened and just took what aimsey said and used their plan instantly without seeing that that wasn’t the actual plan aimsey said to her. So the advice and talks eventually became more desperate trying to get through to ros because this isn’t her, this is her getting tired of what’s happening and needing to fix it so forming an entire idea in her head without seeing that this idea wouldn’t work and already isn’t working because she needs it to work, so it didn’t matter how much aimsey tried to get through to her, it wouldn’t work, until eventually they talk about where this idea in ros’s head is rooted, which is respect, the idea that if she can get them to respect her, they’ll stop, which she is going about doing by making them fear her, even though fear and respect are vastly different things. And aimsey says that to her which leads to the most important question they’ve had, would ros kill aimsey to get everyone to respect and or fear her, and when aimsey asks ros this, their closest friend, the person they trust more than anything, the person they can count on, that they can both count on each other to pull each other back, to save each other from themselves, they ask ros… and ros hesitates, and that’s all they need to know, the fact that ros could hesitate means that in her head there is a part of her that would and that part just seems to be getting bigger and bigger the more she spirals in this idea of respect. And then ros says no, which as much as she says it, isn’t the truth, the truth is she doesn’t know if she would or not, and that’s the worst part, not only would she consider doing it but she won’t admit it, to aimsey or herself, they’re supposed to be helping each other and ros instead of being honest and saying she doesn’t know, lies and says no, of course not, she could never hurt him, which is of course coming from a place of love for aimsey and not wanting to ever think about and especially not say they’d ever hurt her, but to someone as perceptive as aimsey, they can clearly tell ros is conflicted on it and even though know they know ros is a good person, of course she is obviously, that was never in question, but even knowing what a truly kind person ros is, that doesn’t change the pain learning something like that has. So aimsey pulls them up on it and makes ros confront that side of her, for good or bad doesn’t matter, because it needs to happen to help ros, one way or the other, and so they convince her to fight, which or course ros tries to argue about but still tries to make aimsey see her side of it, still not seeing that her side doesn’t really exist, it’s just a desperate attempt to stop the fighting by any means, by any cost, not seeing that no fighting, no threats should ever make them turn on each other, would ever make aimsey turn on ros, especially not to gain some form of respect from the people they already don’t like. Ros is too caught up in protecting her friends that she can’t see her friends don’t need protecting, aimsey doesn’t need protecting.

And you can see how deeply this is affecting aimsey because they’re talk about how they’re glad they chose to be alone, they’re with their best friend and they’re saying how they’re glad to be alone, because right now this isn’t their best friend, or at least not that they can recognise right now, because he has spoke so much about how everyone is killing just to kill and how that is one of, if not the, biggest problems they have with them, so for ros to now believe that she needs to do that to aimsey to “protect” them and gain respect from others, even though she already has aimsey’s and the kingdom’s respect (mostly), is obviously gonna be upsetting for aimsey and a massive loss of trust. And they start fighting, they both swing, and then they both swing again, then aimsey stops and ros swings again and then ros swings one last time and aimsey is dead, but of course, it doesn’t last. Because if one of them was gonna die, they’d rather it be themselves, if that’s because they can’t actually die or because they can’t bring themselves to kill ros, we don’t know (although it’s probably almost definitely both). But either way ros still doesn’t get to live, because she killed aimsey and death doesn’t want that happening, the past times it’s been a mob but this time it’s a player, and they won’t allow that to happen, so it instantly makes one of its already dead kill ros… instantly, because you don’t mess with death or the ones death has already chosen to punish itself. And after the fight, his relationship with death comes back up, with her asking, basically begging, death to let them go and just let them die, but of course, they were denied again, because even after all that with ros, they still can’t have anything, everything they want always so close yet so far, always. And then after they both parted ways after the fight, aimsey when thinking about going to ros, thinks ros won’t want to see them, instead of themself not wanting to see her, after the fight, he doesn’t stew in what ros did and get angry, he just kinda goes crazy (and high and poisoned), both because of what happened with ros and also probably experiencing death again. Because even though, they just fought and definitely lost a lot of trust in each other, they still care about each other and want to protect each other above all else, because the amount of trust they have in each other, one fight, no matter how big, will change that. tr!aimsey is SUCH an interesting and compelling character, and their relationship with death and tr!ros especially is amazing! I can’t wait to see what happens next.

(this is mainly about tr!aimsey so tr!ros comes off a bit bad from their arguments, but I promise I think tr!ros is a genuinely good person, just conflicted right now and she is also an amazing and interesting character)

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Hey is there any way you could do the reader takes on clients in order to protect Finnick? Like she goes behind his back and begs Snow until she can make everything stop for Finnick and then doesn’t tell him but eventually he finds out.

oh i am CONVINCED that finnick girlies THRIVE off of angst

AND ITS MY JOB TO SUPPLY YOU GUYS SOOOOO

My Angel

HEAVY content warnings: trafficking of victors, implied S/A, cheating accusations, angst

part one. | part two. (not necessary to read, but if you would like some background i would definitely suggest reading these first)

Finnick had noticed that something was off about you. For the past few weeks you'd been more skittish and distant.

At night when you both went to bed, he noticed that you no longer wanted to be held in his arms. In the mornings, instead of waking up next to him with a smile, you woke up with your back facing him, hiding a look of dread on your face. You no longer wanted to to go to the market or to the beach with him, only wanting to go alone.

You refused any sort of intimacy. Anytime he would go to hug you, kiss you, anything, you would flinch. Even with the lightest brush of a hand, you would flinch.

Your trips to the Capitol were more frequent and longer now too, but he didn't worry about that too much because he would always see pictures of you out and about, at interviews, photoshoots— the standard for any Victor.

You were both in the living room, you sitting in your arm chair, reading a book while he sat on the couch, fiddling around with a piece of rope. Silence filled the room.

He had offered for you both to go take a walk on the beach to watch the sunset, but you declined saying you were "tired and wanted to just stay inside for the night."

He watched as you read, he watched all your movements and tried to get a read of your emotions. Then he saw something strange.

But before he could get a better look, you stood up and made your way to the kitchen.

Finnick’s eyes followed you across the room, his gut twisting as his gaze laned on the small, barely-there mark on the side of your neck, he knew he hadn’t left a mark, with the way you'd been acting for the past week he'd be lucky if you let him hug you without you flinching. It was dark and a little red. A hickey. The sight of it made his heart clenched painfully in his chest.

Were you seeing someone else? Were you disgusted at what he told you that you felt the need to be with someone else?

Did you not love him anymore?

"Angel?" He called out softly, but you didn’t turn around. His voice cracked slightly as he repeated it again, louder this time, and you froze.

You turned, realizing what he may have seen, but it was too late. He had already seen it.

"Where did that mark come from?" Finnick’s voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper, but it carried the sharpness of someone who’d just realized something they weren’t ready to face. He couldn’t stop himself from stepping toward you, his feet carrying him across the room like an instinct.

You reached for the collar of your sweater to pull it higher, to hide it. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled.

"It's not nothing Angel."

You didn't know what to say, you didn't want to tell him the truth. "I- I hurt myself while I was swimming a few days ago."

He looked at you with a look of skepitcism, "No, don't lie to me."

Silence filled the room once more as you looked away from him. His mind was spiraling as a feeling of dread consumed him.

"Have you been cheating on me?"

Your head immediately shot back up. "W-What?"

Finnick took a deep breath. "Have you been cheating on me?" he says, his voice firm, his heart aching as he said it.

You shook your head, "No- No Finnick I-I'm not cheating on you-"

"Then where did the mark come from?" he says, his voice slightly raised.

You stayed quiet, something inside you was screaming to tell him the truth, but you just couldn't bring yourself to.

"Please angel. Please tell me you haven't been seeing someone else."

"Finnick please- it's not what you think-"

"Then what is it?! You've shut me out! I need you to talk to me! You've been so distant these past few weeks, you don't want to go anywhere with me, you don't want me to hold you anymore, you haven't even said 'I love you' to me in weeks!" he shouts.

His heart was breaking, if there was even the slightest chance that you were cheating, he didn't want to believe it.

"Angel. Baby. Please talk to me." he says in a desperate tone as he walks towards you, holding you in his arms.

You hesitate and take a shaky deep breath in, tears fill your eyes. "I-It's Snow" you whisper.

Finnick instantly feels a wave of fear wash over him. "Angel, what are you talking about?"

You close your eyes, shaking your head, a weak sob escaping as cling onto his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks.

He quickly cups your face in his hand, "Please talk to me angel, please." he says in a soothing tone, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

"I-I made a deal with Snow...that if I take on the extra clients you took on for me...you wouldn't have to deal with them anymore" you say as you burst into tears, holding tightly onto Finnick.

Finnick stood still, tears filled his eyes, his heart felt like it was breaking even more. Suddenly, everything made sense, why you flinched at his touches, why you distanced yourself from him. It all made sense.

He was quick to wrap you fully in his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Angel...why didn't you tell me. I would've been there for you."

You cling onto his shirt and cry, "I-I didn't want to be a burden...this was my deal with Snow.."

His heart just kept breaking. You, a burden? Never.

"My angel...you could never be a burden. Never." he says in a gentle tone as he kisses the top of your forehead.

He holds you close to his chest, letting you cry it all out.

"I-I hate it so much Finny- they hurt me- t-they treat me like I-I'm a toy. They laugh when I cry- they enjoy it."

Finnick’s world shattered at your words, he could your body shaking with sobs. “I know, Angel,” he whispered, his own tears slipping down his face as he kissed your forehead, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you closer “I know."

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t apologize, it's not your fault angel,” Finnick murmured, kissing the top of your head. "Never think it's your fault."

For the first time in weeks, you finally felt like you could breathe again, wrapped in his arms, finally feeling the comfort you longed for. And for the rest of the night you would stay in his arms as he whispered endless comforting words to you.

A/N: MWHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEH (im crying like a bitch rn omg)

[dreamerimpossible]

His reaction when you say someone else's name during sex.

Warnings: +18 content, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence and death, dark content.

Characters: Mikey, Kazutora, Sanzu, Izana, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Kisaki, Hanma

Mikey

You'd have to be crazy. Did you forget that Mikey is the person who protects you from the other gangs doing something against you for being involved with him? Did you forget everything that Mikey has done for you? Well, he doesn't forget. He stops and looks at you with those empty eyes. On a particularly bad day, he tells you not to forget your place and who you're with, because he wouldn't have any problem showing you what it would be like to be a day without him and everything he provides for you. It scares you to see him with that look and that menacing voice. He doesn't look like your boyfriend; he looks like just a predator. After that, he's back to himself. Like nothing ever happened. Suddenly, people needed a reminder of how strong he was. You got it.

Kazutora

He becomes obsessive. He pushes you over and over against the surface, be it the bed, the wall, or the car, whatever. He asks you who that man is and why you're naming him. He screams at you and goes crazy. He gives you hickeys in his rage; you can feel his bites. You explain everything over and over again, but it doesn't seem to relax him at all. He runs around the city like a madman waiting for you to tell him who this man is and where he lives. It gets worse if you don't tell him. In your desperation, you take him to an alley and whisper sweet nothings to him that he refuses to believe at first. You tell him that he will know who the man is, but that you needed to apologize first. You gave him the sloppiest oral of your life, holding back the tears that came out of your eyes as you choked. He forgives you, but seriously, he still expects you to tell him who this man is.

Sanzu

Uh… what the fuck? No one would do that. But if you did, you would only be saved if he was drugged. He wouldn't notice, really; he would be on a terribly high adrenaline and only think about the feeling. Then, in the morning, he would have forgotten everything. However, if you catch him sober and lucid, you're lost. He tells you to explain clearly while he shows you his gun and leaves it on the mattress. It's an implicit threat, but quite functional. He doesn't think you simply want another man; he thinks you're cheating on him; that's why he goes so crazy. He can't stand being cheated on, even less when he never cheated on you. It would be unfair, and he wouldn't tolerate it. When you convince him, he's still angry, but a little less paranoid. He'd look at you closely, put a lot more "security" in you, and become more possessive. If you openly show that you like how much he "protects" you, he'll let his guard down, but not enough.

Izana

He gets dressed and leaves. Not before making a fuss and reproaching you for things you never did. His abandonment issues come to light, and it seems impossible to fix things with him. You don't even speak; you just listen and don't know what to do. Then he walks away and tells you to forget about him and that he doesn't want a bitch like you. Then you realize that the guy was hurt by a fight he had, and you know exactly who did it. He wouldn't look for you; he's proud; he ended the relationship that day. He doesn't like to feel left out or like a second choice. So you approach him and put up with some indifference, but there will come a time when he'll like to see you beg for him, letting you be with him conditionally for a while, just to test your behavior. and he'll miss having you. He lets you be with him conditionally for a while, just to test your behavior. If you do it right, he'll be nice to you again, but he'll always want you to introduce him to your friends and people close to you, even just acquaintances. Although, let's be honest, he was like that before.

Ran Haitani

You can see the confusion and pain in his eyes. He tries to cover it up by joking around a bit, but it hurts him, and it shows. The difference with the others is that he won't go crazy; he'll just wait for you to explain; he can actually be quite mature when he wants to. You explain it to him, and he understands, at least with you. You promise that you will make it up to him, and he will give you the chance. That same night you moan his name many times until he gets tired of hearing you. However, that man will not be spared from his cane. Sorry, not sorry.

Rindou Haitani

Pretty direct. He asks you what the hell is wrong with you and if you are cheating on him with someone else. You rush to tell him no and explain everything. He nods his head and says nothing more; he seems to have his same expression as always. He remains serious for the rest of the day; you try to get closer to him, but no progress seems to reach him. Don't worry; after a few days, he will be fine. He needs time. Afterwards he will prove himself and make you come many times. You make sure he has no doubts.

Kisaki

He gets dressed and leaves. He doesn't say anything to you. He doesn't even change his usual expression. The scary thing about him is that he only acts; he doesn't provoke or threaten. That makes you expect anything from him. He comes back the same way he left, unchanged, but his expression seems darker. You decide not to ask. You try to explain, but he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t feel threatened by it anymore. How could he? There’s no one to confuse you anymore, no one alive, at least.

Hanma

He laughs at you, in disbelief. He might make you a little insecure too, which only made the fight escalate. There are no healthy reconciliations with Hanma; you should know that by now. You’ll get possessive every time he purposely teases you, and he’ll make a fuss every time you get together with a guy. That’s how it is. That seems to be “reconciliation.” There’s a lot of sex too and unhealthy ways to get out frustration. Hanma actually seems to enjoy toxicity.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 57

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,835ish

Summary: Wade, Laura, and Logan take care of you despite you feeling like a burden.

Notes: Next update will not be until Jan. 19th at the earliest. Thanks for understanding. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

After your brief words to Logan, the pain overtook you again and you fell back unconscious. When it was Laura’s turn to take care of you, Logan made sure that the door was shut behind him. He knew that the two of you needed your privacy. Laura’s tears started as she sat next to your bed and took your hand.

“I can’t lose you, mom,” Laura sobbed. “I’ve lost everyone else… I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Always,” you rasped, still groggy but at least waking up. “You're my daughter… can’t stay mad at you for long…”

“Mom! I’ve been so worried… so scared.”

“I know, kiddo… but I’m here.” You gave her hand the best squeeze you could muster.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” your laugh fell flat.

Laura didn’t find it funny one bit, her face falling more. “There’s got to be something that we can do… Something that will make this easier.”

“Cassandra told me that Charles’ seizures affected my mutation… she said that there was something that she could do about it but refused to help… She’s dead now and I can’t go back to the mansion to get Charles’ help.”

“I can’t… I can’t lose you… I can’t stand by and watch your mutation kill you like dad’s did.”

“Laura… Listen to me. No matter what happens, you continue down the path that you are on. Do not become what they made you to be… Promise me.”

She nodded. “I promise, mom.”

“Good… Now… I really need some more pain meds.”

~~~

Logan had locked himself in the bathroom after leaving your room. His mind was swirling with memories of his version of you, of the events of the last day or so, and of the information that your Logan’s adamantium bones had poisoned him. 

Would he be dealt the same fate?

Or would he be cursed to watch you deal with a similar fate?

And would he be strong enough to deal with any of what happened? He wasn’t strong enough the first time when things got hard. He only made things harder. Splashing his face with some water, Logan met his own gaze in the mirror. He could do this. Be this person. Be better than he had been for his you. Be better for Laura and Wade. Logan couldn’t let the people who trusted him down again. He sighed before heading out to the living room.

“Still writing?” Logan grumbled as he saw Wade lounging on the couch with his laptop.

“Nope,” Wade responded, “just trying to beat your ass in saving the day.”

“What?”

“I’m going to find someone who can help cure our Little Flame. The normal people are out of the question since she can’t go near the mansion, so I’m searching for someone else.”

Logan’s log strides took him quickly to sit beside Wade and look at his screen. “What have you found?”

“Nothing and no one. I’m thinking we may need to take a travel through the Multiverse to find a way to help her.”

“We can’t just go from universe to universe without knowing what we’re lookin’ for.”

“We’re looking for a telepath,” Laura stated, heading into the kitchen. 

“How do you know?”

“My mom’s awake. She told me.”

Wade and Logan rushed down the hallway and burst into your room. You winced at how loud they were.

“Buttercup!” Wade exclaimed.

“Wade, Logan,” you greeted.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asked, stepping closer.

“Fine… Laura’s getting me meds and I’m afraid I’m going to need more burn cream than I have.”

“Oh! Nose goes!” Wade announced, placing a finger on his nose. “Ha! Looks like Peanut has to go!”

“What the fuck was that?” Logan wondered, completely confused. “You can’t just put your finger on your nose like a child and—“

“Why don’t both of you go?” You interrupted. “Laura can take care of me just fine. Besides, we all need some food.”

“Yeah! Just me and my Peanut, running errands!” Wade exclaimed, clapping excitedly.

You went to laugh, but it quickly turned into a whine at the pain. You noticed the shift in the men immediately, both ready to jump in and help you. 

“I’m fine,” you told them. “Go. Laura’s got this.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Wade said before skipping down the hall. Logan lingered in the doorway. “Come on, Peanut!”

“Go, Logan. Your boyfriend’s waiting. I’ll be fine.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Logan grumbled, following after Wade.

Laura came into the room with a water bottle and a variety of meds. She came over and sat on the bed. She carefully helped you sit up against a bunch of pillows. 

“I can do the rest,” you said, shakily reaching for the pills. You took them and threw them down your throat before Laura handed you the water bottle. “I hate this… Laura, I’m going to need your help to get to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” 

Laura took the water bottle, setting it aside before carefully helping you to your feet. You leaned heavily on her as she guided you to the bathroom. She helped you inside and you gripped the counter.

“I can handle it from here,” you told her.

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I don’t mind—“

“I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Laura sighed before leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. You took care of business before using the counter to get you up and wash your hands. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You could see the burns that littered the skin that you could see. Slowly, you pulled your shirt up and quietly gasped. Your torso was burnt badly. There was no stopping the tears. 

You absolutely hated this. You hated how your powers were failing you and you didn’t know how to stop it. You hated how your skin was quickly becoming more scarred than ever before and how weak you were becoming. But what you hated most was that you were becoming a burden to Laura and your friends. You couldn’t hold back the sob that erupted from deep inside you. Your body gave out, proving how weak you still were, and you collapsed to the floor.

“Mom?” Laura sounded very concerned from the other side of the door. “Are you okay? Do you need any help?”

“No,” you quickly said, trying to calm yourself. “I’m fine!”

You knew that Laura didn’t believe you, but you were thankful that she didn’t push anymore. You grabbed a nearby towel and wadded it up before placing it against your mouth to try to drown the sobs.

Laura sat against the wall opposite of the bathroom as she listened to your sobs. Her own tears gathered. Leaning her head back against the wall, Laura closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel all the swirling emotions inside of her. She snapped to attention the moment she smelt smoke. Without a word, Laura barged into the bathroom to find you curled up on the floor, towel against your mouth, and small flames forming around your body.

“Mom! Please, you’ve got to calm down,” Laura begged as she knelt beside you. She pulled the towel from your grip before you could set it on fire before she grabbed your hands, ignoring the burning sensation that ran through her own. “Mom, breathe with me. In… Out…”

“I—I—I need… to… cool… down…” You stammered while trying to catch your breath.

“How do I do that?” Laura asked.

“The… tub…”

Laura moved quickly. She turned the cold water on and plugged the tub before helping you into it. Neither of you care that you were still wearing your clothes. Laura held tightly to your hand as the two of you waited for the cold water to help you. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, mom, don’t apologize,” Laura shook her head. 

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me… you shouldn’t have to lose another parent like this…”

“You took care of me and you didn’t even have to. I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~

“So I’m thinking we head to the TVA and see what we can dig up there on a nearby telepath,” Wade planned as he and Logan carried the groceries up the stairs. “I don’t care what universe or time we need to go, we are finding a telepath.”

“Let’s just focus on getting Y/N feelin’ better before we plan another visit to the TVA,” Logan muttered, opening up the door of your apartment. He immediately could sense that something happened. He dropped the grocery bags and raced down the hall, only to find you in the tub with Laura sitting beside it. “What happened?”

“She broke down and over heated,” Laura explained. “She fell asleep and I couldn’t get myself to move her. The water is keeping her cool and helping soothe the burns.”

“I’ll move her to the bed. Grab her a new set of clothes and Wade—“

“I’ve already got the burn cream and bandages!” Wade shouted.

Laura nodded as she gave your hand a squeeze before going to get you a new set of clothes. Logan found a towel and crouched down next to the tub. He laid the towel over his lap then reached down and pulled you out of the tub. A whine slipped through your lips.

Logan quickly shushed you. “I’ve got you, Y/N,” he said softly. “Go back to sleep. We’ll take care of ya.”

He wrapped the towel around you and tried to dry you off the best he could. Laura came back with a new set of clothes for you and Logan gently set you on the ground, leaning against the wall.

“I’ll let you change her,” he said. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll carry her back to bed.”

~~~

When you woke up to full consciousness, you were back in bed, changed, and bandaged up. Your door was open and no one was in your room, though you could hear them down the hall in the living area. Doing a quick check of your body, you still felt achy but it was better than before. You pushed yourself up and moved your legs over your bed. Unsteadily, you got to your feet and carefully headed out into the hall. Once you were there, you used the walls to help you get out to the living area where you found Blind Al sitting on the couch with Laura, the two quietly discussing something and Wade and Logan bickering in the kitchen. You noticed that your kitchen was a mess as the two of them worked to make something.

“What is going on out here?” You finally spoke up. Everyone’s head snapped in your direction.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Logan asked as he rushed over.

Laura was at your side in an instant, her arm around you to hold you up. “You should be resting,” Laura scolded. 

“I’m feeling a bit better,” you insisted. “And I heard all this commotion out here. What is going on?”

“I’m making dinner and baking a cake!” Wade exclaimed, still working away in the kitchen.

“Sure doesn’t smell editable,” Althea retorted. “Smells like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh before wincing. Laura and Logan were immediately on alert.

“Okay, enough,” Logan said. “You’re going back to bed.”

“No,” you shook your head, “My healing factor is kicking in. I can sit on the couch.”

“Mom,” Laura whispered, giving you a pleading look. “Please go lay back down.”

“She doesn’t have a choice,” Logan stated, sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you down the hall.

“Logan!” You squealed, smiling and laughing. 

It lifted everyone’s spirits to hear that sound. You felt at safe—almost home—in Logan’s arms as he carried you back to bed. You smiled up at Logan as he set you down, a brief moment you forgot about everything, including that the man touching you was not your husband. Suddenly, your face fell and you flinched away as your mind caught up with reality. Logan was not your Logan. He was not your husband. Logan noticed the quick shift.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, fighting back the tears. “I’m just tired.”

Logan didn’t believe that you were telling him the whole truth. “Well, Wade and I are almost done with dinner.”

“Okay.” Your eyes were focused on your hands as they messed with the blanket.

He dipped his head to try to catch your eye but you avoided it. “Are you sure there’s nothin’ wrong?”

“Let me know when you’re done with dinner.”

Logan let out a grunt, studying you for a few more seconds before leaving the room. 

~~~

You were back to work a week later, despite Laura and Logan’s wishes. Wade was on your side, telling everyone that his favorite superhero was strong enough to handle anything. You were beginning to feel added pressure of Wade’s belief in you along with everything else you were still feeling. Despite it being summer, you wore long sleeves to constantly cover the scars that now littered your body more than you had ever had before.

Laura, Logan, and Wade could see that things were still weighing heavily on you. Each of them did what they could for you, though you often insisted that you were fine and could handle everything. You were pushing their help away, embarrassed that you need to rely on them so much.

One night, you came home late do to a closing shift. Logan could hear you from where he was waiting up in his apartment. He had made it a habit to listen for you on your late shifts. He quickly went to the door and peeked his head out to see you struggling to open the door due to your hands trembling and new burns on them.

“What happened?” Logan asked, taking quick strides over to you.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, focusing on getting the door open. “I’m fine.”

“Your hands are burnt.”

You pushed the door open, causing it to slam against the wall. You were thankful that Laura was sleeping over at a friends house so that you didn’t have to worry about her see you like this tonight. You marched inside, with Logan close behind. He gently closed the door and took note to take care of the hole that the doorknob had made in the morning.

“Y/N, we need to take care of your hands,” Logan said quietly.

“We don’t need to do anything,” you retorted, focusing on anger out of all your swirling emotions. “I can take care of myself just fine. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“Yes, but you don’t need to. I can—“

“I don’t even know you!” You spun around to face him. Your hands clenched as flames threatened to take over. “You look like my James— my husband, but you’re not him. You have a different life, a different set of memories. You have a different me!” Tears began to sizzling down your heated cheeks. “I don’t even know what fully happened between the two of you but you seem to know my whole life story. I don’t need your pity and I don’t need to be your replacement and you don’t deserve to be mine. We can be friends, that’s fine, but I don’t need you stepping in to take care of me all the time! You’re not my husband!”

“Y/N, I’m—“

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

Logan’s hands came up in surrender as flames engulfed your fists. “Okay, okay, just please take a deep breath. I— I’ll go, just please, stop. Stop the flames. Don’t hurt yourself anymore, please.”

“Then get out!”

Logan hesitated for a moment, but he could see the seriousness and heartbreak in your eyes. You wanted to be alone and him being here right now would only make things worse. With slow steps, he turned and left the apartment, but he couldn’t get himself to move away from the door.

You were right in some of your words. Logan wasn’t your husband, but he wasn’t trying to be. He was just trying to help you like friends do. You also had a point that he definitely knew more of your story than you knew of his. Logan just hated to talk about his past. It brought him to a place he couldn’t handle. But maybe you deserved to know that you weren’t a replacement to him. 

Logan sighed as he heard your sobs through the door. There was no way he was going back to his apartment tonight, even with it just next door. He still didn’t know what happened to you before you got home and you were clearly not in a good place mentally. He leaned against the door and slid down to the ground.  He couldn’t leave you alone. He would wait until either Laura returned or you decided to leave the apartment. 

next chapter >

[godhandler]

Ex-boyfriend Gojo who shows up at your house 5 years later. He looks a bit different now. 

|Souls are laid to rest after the death of the body. As for Gojo Satoru, his soul rests with you. In other words, your terrible ex-boyfriend is having way too much fun haunting you|

|satoru gojo x reader, fluff, lil bitty angst, gojo being gojo, 1400 words, desi-coded reader|

previous series masterlist

Sometimes you wonder if you are a character trapped in a story. Ant in a glacier, you shout and kick but are ultimately powerless, swept along by a narrative you are but a puppet to. It’s nothing new, you’ve felt this way every day for the past almost 30 years; days that keep passing by while you remain where you were.

Your author could have written you a story where you’re a princess and the dashing knight falls in love with you. Or perhaps where you’re a powerful elf magician who conquers the universe. Hell, even a side character in Mob Psycho 100 gets a nicer life than you. 

It only follows that your author is bored and talentless and cruel, because why else would they torment you like this? Why else would the love of your life come back to haunt you?

“... hey, honeycheeks?” Satoru opens an eye. For the past few days since he appeared he’s taken to sleeping (or quietly hovering horizontally) on his side of the bed next to you. “Why are you still up?”

Lately it feels like everything you do is done through you, rather than by you. You have to do something, feel something, assert your freedom of action. Make you feel like a person again. 

You scream for a full 20 seconds before Satoru, aghast, claps a hand (that passes right through you) to your mouth, worried that the neighbours will start banging on the wall, a stray ‘shut the fuck up!’ wafting in through the window. You haven’t slept well since he got here, except, you know, when you passed out. If your current mental state is anything to go, he needs to get you to bed before you lose it completely. 

“No– get off– I have to–are you real, Satoru? Are you? Am I?” 

Satoru’s never been able to hide his thoughts from you, so you can see clear on his face the fear and worry about you. A tinge of pity too. You’re behaving so erratically, so unlike the calm rational lady he remembers you as, one who took all of life’s curveballs in stride. Has he hurt you that much? What does it say about the kind of person Satoru is if his reappearance hurts you more than his disappearance? 

The ghostly form is warm, warm as the sun’s heat on a winter day, and he opens his arms to call you to its warmest core– his heart. You lie back down, pulled into the bedsheets and you shock yourself when you reflexively pull the blankets over both your heads. Like you used to. Like you haven’t forgotten.

Satoru glows too. Gentle light of fireflies and starlight. All humans do, you remember reading in your physics textbook: all heat-emitting bodies emit light energy as well. Satoru is all soul and no body to bar the glow– he lights up your little cave under the blankets. 

“I’m real, my love.” 

Why does it wrap thorns around your insides? Why do the tears burn down your neck, refusing to obey your composure? Why are you losing your grip on everything?

“I’ve always imagined that you’d come back.” Your whispers slip out before you can help it. “You’d stand on the doorstep with a huge bouquet of red roses and chocolate-covered-strawberries. I’ll open the door, and be so shocked! I’d say, “So you think you can just buy me flowers and I’d forgive you?” and you’d get on your knees and beg me to take you back, or at least let you inside the house. Our house. Then I’d say, “Fine, but you have to leave after tea!” And you don’t. You just never leave. Ha ha–” your suddenly realise what you’re saying, though not enough to regret it. “– I know, it’s cliche, don’t tease me… But I knew you, Satoru. I knew it’d never happen; I knew that you were done with me for good.”

And after a full year, Satoru Gojo’s blueflame eyes wet again with the unbearable weight of the past. 

“But if I knew that you’d come back like this–” you bury your head into Satoru’s unruly cloud of hair. His fingers grasp you tight into his embrace, shoulders heave with every sob that wrecks through his body. He can’t look you in the eye. How could he? He’s done so much wrong, so much that cannot be fixed, left so much unfinished. “–I’d have wanted you to stay away.”

“You gave me some of my best memories.” He weeps. Ghost tears fall that do not wet your bosom. “Some of my best days in life. I– I came back– I couldn’t–” 

He chokes and waits for the uncontrollable hiccups to die down, a tic of his whenever he cries too hard. The first time it happened was when you pushed him down a slide he was a bit scared of, and he kept hiccuping and heaving until his distraught nanny took him to his pediatric doctor. He was 2 then. He would’ve been 29 now. 

His voice steadies enough to talk, chest still shaking as he cries. He can’t help it. He’s given up trying to. “I don’t know much, but this much I can figure out. I’m done for, I’ve passed away. I’m sorry, my love, I tried not to, but I died. I’m sorry. It was a fight and I couldn’t win this time. Don’t worry, it’s over now, my students defeated the terrorist, everyone’s safe, you’re safe, love. Everything will go back to how it was–”

“–it won’t,” you cry. “Not without you.”

“There’s no point mourning the dead, I was loved enough in my life. I mean,” he finally has the courage to look at you, allowing a watery smile. There’s tears even in his teeth. “I got to be loved by you. What more can I ask? And that’s what I figured out, I think. Tell me, love, what do you see when you look at me? What am I wearing?”

“Huh? You look just like the day you left. 5 years ago.” 

“Am I jacked like Musclemon?”

You can’t help but laugh. “No, silly, you look exactly like the day you left. Tall lean muscles, sure, but I won’t call you Musclemon. The chocolate bear hoodie you were wearing, grey sweatpants, the blindfold I gave you.” 

The last one was specially hand-made by you. You had to call in a favour from your blacksmithing friends to create a light-weight lead composite shield, which you then tailored foam and padding to create the most opaque blindfold possible. To help him sleep better at night.   

“That’s now how others see me.”

“Others can see you? Who's ‘others’?”

“No, no, not everyone. Just some people I couldn’t say goodbye to. Get closure properly, you know. As far as I can tell, it’s Suguru, Shoko, the children. They all saw me as how they remembered me.” He said. He’s always loved to explain, despite the fact that he’s crying right now. “I don’t know if this happens to everyone or just me, but at the time of death, your soul goes to wherever they find comfort. Mine was split into a few separate pieces, but those parts are done. I talked enough to everyone, bothered them till they told me to go, ha-ha… Suguru’s waiting for me to leave with him.”

“Suguru’s soul?”

“Yes.”

“Leave where? When?”

“I don’t mind, I’ll go wherever he takes me, I trust him. And I’ll go when you tell me to. When you’re done with me.” He whispers. Secrets beyond the grave that he entrusts with you. “But if you keep me with you, if you don’t tell me to leave, I never will. Not this time.”

You must be imagining it, but Satoru seems to get heavier, even though all he is is a ball of cloud. Almost like he was actually lying tangled with you. Must be your imagination. 

Clearly, neither of you are doing very well, or at least well enough to trust your senses. Come tomorrow morning, the barriers will come up again, the awkwardness of proper social conduct seeping through with the sunlight, childish words will go unsaid. 

“I loved you, Satoru. I love you.” It’s the truth, no point in hiding it. It’s destiny beyond himself that his soul came to you. “But more than that I miss you.”

Maybe if you prayed very, very hard, you could convince your author to write you a better story. 

a/n: reader also sees gojo with the engagement band on his finger she just can't get herself to say it out loud

gojo sees himself as nothing eslse but two glowing blue eyes

geto saw gojo as the 17 year old student he left him as. just to clarify, gojo's soul was "split" or in better words, different versions of his souls talked to his loved ones after his death and those versions have found peace and moved on. since geto is the only one dead in that line-up, in a way, he's waited for a year for him to die and join him. geto was prepared to wait as long as he needed to (he hoped that it would be long). reader's version is the only one that's left unresolved. do you think gojo wants to be resolved/freed?

[melosliving]

kelvin Harrison jr x neighbor!reader

neighbor!reader who is so so happy to move in her new apartment, happily going boxes after boxes, even though they’re heavy as hell.

neighbor!kelvin who actually wakes up from his afternoon nap and sees you going to your car every 10 minutes, wondering who you were. But then he thinks about actually helping you since you seemed to be alone.

neighbor!kelvin who opens his door only to find you trying to juggle your keys and the voluminous box you had in your hands. You looked ridiculous girl.

"Do you need help with this ?" he would ask you, leaning against the door. He looked at you trying to enter the key in your front door.

"actually no thanks, let me handle this. I’m a big girl." You would answer, struggle audible in your voice. He would only chuckle but let you and your big girl business alone.

neigbor!kelvin who opens his door again only to come face to face with you, who has a big smile on your face.

"Actually neighbor, I could use the help. Please." You say, pinching your lips together. Raising his eyebrows, kelvin looked at you, finally taking in your appearance. Dressed comfortably like a person that was moving, you wore grey sweats and a matching grey top.

you were really pretty.

"Sure, neighbor." He would say, waiting for you to lead the way to you car.

neighbor!kelvin who is your knight in shining armor, carrying boxes like it was nothing to him. You were so grateful he had accepted to help you even despite refusing.

neighbor!kelvin who can’t help but look around your apartment, taking in how you’ve already decorated it a bit. And it matched your aesthetic.

neighbor!reader who looks at how he carries the boxes, letting warmth creeping in her cheeks as she pays attention to his muscles flexing.

"I still don’t know your name, neighbor." You would say, after carrying the last box of yours in the kitchen. "Oh, it’s kelvin, and you are, pretty neighbor ?" He would ask.

"❁."

neighbor!kelvin who smiles at the sound of your name between your lips, making sure not to forget it. Pretty, just like you.

neighbor!kelvin who has to go after some time but makes you promise to always come to him if you needed something.

neighbor!kelvin who cannot stop thinking about you. From your glistening skin, your faint perfume to your real pretty face. You just couldn’t escape his mind.

"she’s really hot." he would explain to one of his close relatives.

"Not you crushing on your new neighbor."

"fuck that, I think I’m in love, cousin."

neighbor!kelvin who smiles at you each time you would bump into him, wanting to help anytime you would have groceries.

neighbor!kelvin who after some weeks gets closer to you and actually becomes your friend.

"Actually, come over tonight, please." You say, looking at him.

"What ?" He would frown. He knew you were quite spontaneous but this was forward.

"I want to do something nice to thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me." You explain, hands behind your back.

"Ok, so you basically want me in your bed, ❁. You just could have said that." He would joke.

"Boy, you need to redo your braids, and I can braid it for you if you want."

neighbor!kelvin who find you so cute and thoughtful. He then finds himself in your pretty apartment, sitting on your floor and between your legs, letting you brush his hair.

"Your hair is so beautiful, kel" You would mumble, starting to braid his hair. And if at first he was scared it would hurt, your hand was actually so gentle with him.

"Do you have other skills up your sleeve, pretty ?"

"You’ll have to find them." You would answer, smiling softly at him.

neighbor!kelvin who falls asleep on your thigh while you finish braiding his hair, his arm circling your leg. When finishing you would put on his green durag on for him, not before taking a quick picture of his sleepy frown.

neighbor!reader who gently shakes kelvin awake, softly smiling at him as he emerges. he looked troubled as to where he was but when he looked back at you he was relieved.

neighbor!kelvin who thanks you a hundred times but never lift himself up the floor, wanting to remain close to you as possible.

neighbor!reader who stands up to go in the kitchen only to come back with a glass of water for him.

neighbor!kelvin who can’t help himself but follow your sight, observing the way your pyjamas were clinging to your body.

"you can sleep here if you want, you seem really tired." You say, playing with your nails.

neighbor!kelvin who finds himself on your couch, your back to his front and watching tv with you since he swore he wasn’t tired, but really he just wanted to be able to witness your face getting sleepy.

"❁, I know you’re sleeping." He would say after you swore he would be the first to fall asleep.

"M’ not," you would answer, but actually betray yourself when you turned in his arms, putting your face in his neck and making yourself comfortable.

neighbor!kelvin who would hold you in his arms, feeling you falling asleep. It was the most precious sight ever.

neighbor!kelvin who after this swore he would not let you go.

@ melosliving 2025

[imaginefan]

Waiting

Klaus Mikaelson X Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 1479

Requested: @venetiatargaryen011

Request: Klaus daughter fic?

Klaus had long since forgotten about your mother. She had died hundreds of years before he had ever met you and in all fairness had no idea that you existed. Your parents had managed to find the one point in time where the curse was loosened enough for your mother to fall pregnant. Klaus was gone before your mother found out and there was no way to find him or contact him.

You were different from most kids, hearing and seeing what you shouldn’t as well as better agility and strength then those your age. You were smart enough to know that hiding it was better than being hunted to the ends of the earth. Your secret was safe with you and your mother until the hunters came to town apparently just passing through but they asked the right question and were led to you. You packed up and left before they could get to your mother and made her promise to pretend that she never had a child and that was the end of it, you were never able to go home, you don’t know how your mother lived you only hoped that she was lonely.

You travelled, made a name for yourself and eventually attracted the attention of your father though you didn’t know that at the time. The moment that the Mikaelson’s saw your eyes they knew, after all there was only one hybrid in the world. Klaus refused to believe it for a very long time and you never asked him to, instead you left them and continued on your own finally settling in Mystic Falls, where you tried to keep to yourself, taking jobs from other supernaturals to keep yourself fed and housed. To the people of the town it looked like you worked from home and you were happy with that.

Unfortunately for you that could only last so long, your peace ended with knocking at your door. “Can I help you?” You asked, eyes casting over the trio that stood on your doorstep, one human and the other two vampires. “Actually we think that you can.” One of them answered, you waited for him to continue “we need to get rid of someone, someone like us.” “Like you?” You asked, attempting to throw them off the trail. “Told you this wouldn’t work.” The other vampire said in a split second he had grabbed you around the neck and pushed you back until you were pressed against the wall of the hallway. “Damon!” The human scolded as he tightened his grip around your throat. “You think that she could kill Klaus!? Really!? If I can surprise her like this then she has no chance!” Damon argued. “Damon-” The other vampire was cut off by your voice, dangerously level as you looked up at them with a golden gaze. “Remove your hands from me before I remove them from you.” Damon’s eyes widened as he stepped back letting go of you, you didn’t let him get too far before you kicked him in the stomach causing him to slam against your front door. “Now that we’re even, let's try that again, how can I help you?” “Klaus Mikaelson his trying to kill me and my friends.” The human answered. “Friends?” You asked, looking at Damon who was pushing himself up from the floor. “You have poor taste.” “I’m her boyfriend.” Damon answered. “Oh well then you have no taste.” You corrected yourself “you still haven’t told me what that has to do with me.” “Well, we heard that you may be able to fight him and win.” The other vampire answered. “Mm.” You hummed “I’ve never fought him before but I doubt that. I could likely hold my own but beat him, no I don’t think that’s something I can do.” “What? Why not?” The human asked. “Ever thought that maybe I don’t want to kill my father?” You asked. “Y-your…” The human never finished the sentence as she stepped back away from you. “You should know that if he is coming here he will likely seek me out on his own, I won’t help him and I won’t help you, solve your own problems, you're certainly smart enough to.” You turned away from them attempting to end the conversation. You heard shuffling behind you but nothing came of it instead you heard them leave and let out a breath of relief, you had no intention of fighting the only parent that you had left even if he refused to acknowledge you.

You weren’t expecting a visit from your uncle who seemed to have arrived at the town before your father had “you’ve done well for yourself, everyone seems to like you.” He said with a small smile on his face as he looked around the small house. “That’s because to these people, I’m normal, I don’t take work from people too close to home.” You explained. “Then I can assume that you will be of no help to anyone in the coming conflict?” Elijah asked. “Who would you suggest that I help?” You asked. “I don’t mean for you to feel as though I am telling you want to do but you should know that your father is different to-” “Elijah you forget that I never met him, he is as much a stranger as the people asking for my help, I’m not helping anyone.” You answered, your tone final as you looked at him. “Is there anything else?” “Take care of yourself, Niece.” He said as he turned away towards the door. “I will as always.” You muttered, continuing with your day.

Your father was next, when he walked into the house you knew, you could feel the power rolling off of him in waves as you turned to face him “is there something that I can help you with?” You asked. “It’s come to my attention that you may not have been lying.” He said leaning against the door frame, your eyes watch and wait for the next part of his sentence. “Mm, and who brought that to your attention?” You asked. “There was a witch I trusted-” “You trust any of them?” You asked. “There was one I trusted more than most, she told me about the nature of the curse that was placed on me and the times at which it would weaken and what could result from it.” He explained carefully. “Am I supposed to say something?” You asked, he smirked as he looked around the house. “I hear that you are quite dangerous, a force to reckoned with.” You sighed realising the reason that he had brought it up in the first place. “I’m not going to fight for you, or anyone, this is your problem so you fix it.” You waved him off. “You would leave your father in such a dangerous situation alone?” Klaus asked. “I would.” You walked towards your front door as you did “show yourself out, I’ve a job to finish.”

That was the last time that you spoke to Klaus before he left for New Orleans, it was hard not to hear the whispers and rumours of the new Tribrid baby and eventually her death at birth. You were happy at least that this time he didn’t push the child away, it seemed that he had even tried to protect her mother before the birth but in the end the baby still died. It was sad end to the story but it was an end all the same. That was what you thought until Klaus showed up back in Mystic Falls to see you. “What are you doing here?” You asked as you leaned back in your chair “I was supposed to be having a nice breakfast.” “You and I both know that you don’t need breakfast.” Klaus said as he sat down. “Answer my question.” You ignored his previous statement and continued eating the food in front of you. “I wanted to talk to you about fixing what I’ve ruined.” He answered. “Mmm.” You hummed. “I’m sure that you heard about your little sister.” He started. “Sister?” You asked. “Yes. I realised how much I missed of your life, how lonely I must have made you feel, how angry you probably are at me.” He said. “Lonely yes, I don’t even know if I’m angry anymore.” You answered honestly. “Please give me a chance to show you what your family can offer you.” He pleaded leaning forward. “Family?” You asked. “The whole family.” He nodded. “There is so much that you deserve to know, so please even if you don’t stay, come to New Orleans so I can explain it to you.” “3 days.” You finally said. “3 days?” He asked. “3 days to convince me.” You clarified and he nodded. “I hope not to disappoint you.” He said softly.

Requests and general question!

[diekleinesuesse]

Hello there! Are your request open? Because I was wondering if you would be able to write something for A Date With Death? If they are open, then wonderful!

Here is the following request: Sunshine has been having terrible nightmares about the 'bad' endings actually coming true, to the point, they call Grim/Casper for comfort and maybe ask him to come over, just to make sure nothing bad happens?

Thank you for reading, hope you have a nice day/night.

Through the Shadows, You’re My Light

Warnings: a date with death beyond the bet spoilers, use of Grims Real name, mention of blood, indirect mention of dying

The clock read 2:47 AM, the numbers burning like tiny red flames in the darkened room. Sunshine sat upright in their bed, clutching the blanket as though it might anchor them back to reality. Their heart raced, pounding erratically in their chest like it was trying to break free. Another nightmare, vivid and cruel, leaving their throat dry and their body drenched in sweat.

They had tried everything breathing exercises, grounding techniques, even staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on their ceiling for what felt like hours. None of it worked. Their mind refused to let go of the image of Casper cold and distant, the light in his eyes extinguished. Or worse, gone entirely.

The thought of losing him, of seeing those endings come true, clawed at their sanity. Sunshine reached for their phone, their hand trembling as they opened their contact list and scrolled down to his name. “Casper 👻🤍,” it read, though they’d saved a little ghost emoji next to it for fun.

For a moment, they hesitated. It was the middle of the night, and Grim was likely asleep or busy doing whatever mysterious work Death itself did at odd hours. But the fear gnawed at them, sharp and relentless. Taking a deep breath, they pressed the call button.

The phone rang once. Twice. On the third ring, his voice came through, warm and calm despite the late hour.

“Sunshine?” he asked, the faint rasp in his voice betraying that he’d been asleep. “What’s wrong?”

Sunshine hesitated, their throat tightening. “I… I’m sorry to call you so late. I just…” They trailed off, struggling to find the words.

“Sunshine.” His voice softened, a gentle coaxing. “What happened?”

“I had a nightmare,” they admitted, feeling a lump rise in their throat. “It’s stupid, I know, but it felt so real. You were sitting right in front of me covered in blood and suddenly it was like you were you… were gone, or…” Their voice broke, and they bit down hard on their lip to stop the tears from falling.

“Hey,” Grim interrupted, his tone firm but kind. “It’s not stupid. Not to me.”

Sunshine closed their eyes, letting his voice wash over them like a balm.

“Do you want me to come over?” he asked. “I can be there in ten minutes.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” they murmured, though the longing in their voice betrayed them.

“Sunshine,” Grim said again, his voice steady and reassuring. “You are never a bother. Not to me. If you need me, I’m there. Always.”

Their breath hitched at the sincerity in his words, and they nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay,” they whispered. “Please. I just… I need to see you.”

“Ten minutes,” he promised before hanging up.

Sunshine sat in the quiet, their heart still racing but a spark of hope now warming their chest. True to his word, there was a knock at their Window almost exactly ten minutes later.

When they opened it, there he was Casper, his eyes sharp and focused entirely on them. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped them in a firm but gentle hug.

Sunshine melted into him, burying their face in his chest as tears finally spilled over. He held them without hesitation, his hands rubbing soothing circles on their back.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m here, Sunshine. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise.”

They clung to him, the weight of the nightmares easing with every second he held them.

“I was so scared,” they whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. “But listen to me. Those nightmares ? They’re not real. See I’m right here and you can feel me right?”

Sunshine pulled back just enough to look up at him, their eyes searching his. “But what if something happens? What if-”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, his hand coming up to gently cup their cheek. “Nothing’s going to happen. Not to me, not to you. We’ve faced worse together, haven’t we?”

They nodded, a small smile tugging at their lips despite their tears. “Yeah. We have.”

“Then trust me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re stuck with me, Sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sincerity in his gaze left no room for doubt, and Sunshine felt the last of their fear begin to ebb away.

“Will you stay?” they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

“As long as you need me,” he replied without hesitation.

That night, Sunshine slept soundly for the first time in weeks, nestled in the warmth of Casper’s arms. And though the shadows of their nightmares still lingered at the edges of their mind, they knew they’d be okay. Because with their favorite Grim Reaper by their side, the nightmares didn’t stand a chance.

Ahhhhhhhh I hope you like this and thank you so so much for being my first request 💋💋💋💋💋