#what it immediately brought to mind for me

[xxchumanixx]

Beach Adventures

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary: Pedro takes the opportunity to fuck you at the beach.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni!, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), fingering, multiple orgasms (two), filthy talk, implied age gap (because, let's face it, we're all much younger than him), established relationship, porn without a plot

Word Count: 5.289

Authors Note: What. Did. I. Do. I don't know. But this video of Pedro? It sent me down a spiral I wasn't ready to be pushed down. This was living in my head rent-free since then, and i think it's time it does something for its stay! I hope you'll enjoy this. Never did anything for Pedro before, so this is kinda new. Also, it's been a while since I did smut, so, please, cut me some slack.

Enjoy!

You should have known he'd take that challenge - and succeed it.

Making you horny at the beach on your vacation? Yes.

Making you come on his fingers at the beach? Yes.

Fucking you at the public beach? Triple that yes.

Pedro sat in the reclined chair under the parasol at the beach, busy reading the book he had brought along for the Christmas holidays. You were sitting in a chair right beside his, bathing in the sun. He'd be lying if he said you weren't distracting him in your tiny swim suit.

You stretched a bit, the sun making you sleepy. "How's your book?" you asked, eyes still closed.

He chuckled softly at your comment, seeing as your eyes were still closed. Clearly you hadn't been paying attention to the world around you for a short moment. "It's alright. Very well written, but a little boring for my taste." he admitted, closing it for a brief moment just to admire the view of you in your swim suit. "How's... sun bathing going?"

You hummed. "Good." you said. "Though I'm sorry for the book. I know how excited you were about it."

He shook his head, waving it off almost immediately. He set the book to the side, turning his chair just a tiny bit to see you even better. "It's alright, babe. Can't like everything right?"  

You hummed once more. "That's true."

His hand moved up onto your leg, running up and down your thigh absentmindedly. It was a very subtle move, but clearly, he was in need of some entertainment.

"Are you getting sun burnt yet? You've been laying there for a while - I'd hate for you to turn red later.” he mused.

You snorted under your breath. "I have some very good sunscreen." you told him. "Don't worry. I can still turn onto my front if you're scared, though."

He chuckled. Despite the fact he was enjoying the view of you lying there, he'd much rather see you on your stomach anyway. Less... distracting. "Oh yes, that would be much better. Don't wanna miss any spot while applying more sunscreen you know, gotta make sure everything is covered in SPF."

You hummed, turning onto your stomach. "You're absolutely right." you mumbled.

The sun felt so nice. It was a nice distraction from everything. Holidays meant no work, no events or galas to attend to. No dressing up, no socializing. Just Pedro, a couple friends, and you.

His eyes scanned you up and down, admiring your naked back and how the thin straps of your swim suit kept you from being completely exposed. Pedro didn't mind, he could easily pull those tiny strings...

He leaned forward, a small smirk forming on his face. His hand moved up and down your naked back, touching the smooth skin.  

You sighed, relaxing into the chair.  

He chuckled softly at your reaction, enjoying the fact he could get a reaction out of you just by touching your skin. He moved his fingers to the straps of your swim suit, pulling it a little.  

"Would you mind if I took the straps off? So I could apply the sunscreen everywhere?" he wanted to know. 

You repressed a snort. Right, for the sunscreen. "No, go ahead."  

He smirked as you agreed. He was going to have a lot of fun here. His fingers moved around your body, pulling the straps off of it, exposing you almost completely. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of it in the process. 

He grabbed the lotion, squirting a bunch of it into his hand, before slowly spreading it across your soft skin, covering you in sunscreen from the top of your neck all the way down your back.  

"Pedro?" you mumbled his name. "Are we gonna go to that little bar we saw yesterday, later? It looked really nice."  

He raised an eyebrow absentmindedly, his hands continuing to move across your body. He was just getting to your lower back now, massaging the sunscreen into your skin, not realizing you were talking at first until he heard you say his name once more.  

"Hm?" He hummed, snapping out of the trance he had been in for the past few minutes. "Bar? Yeah, we can do that. I could use a few drinks and some music."  

"Everything okay?" you asked, though you already knew what was going through his head. Being an actor meant for him being very busy and on the run most of the time, which left little time for... other activities.  

Chuckling, Pedro leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lower back, not caring about the sunscreen he’d just applied there. He couldn't help it, you just looked so good, completely exposed for him to see and touch...  

"I'm perfect, baby. Just got a little... distracted. That's all." He moved up onto his knees a bit, his hands slipping a bit further down your body. "We should go somewhere a little more... private, though."

You snorted softly. "Why?" you asked. "The sun's feeling so nice."  

He chuckled, continuing to spread the sunscreen across your body, until he was on your legs. Once on the tops of your legs, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to one thigh and then the other.  

"You know exactly why, baby.” he mumbled into your skin. “You don't need your thighs exposed to the world, not when I can take my time with you in private..."  

"Didn't you do that this morning already?" you mused. The morning had indeed been... busy, causing you and Pedro to miss breakfast. 

He hummed. Yes, they did do some... things earlier that day, but that felt like ages ago, and not nearly enough to satisfy him completely.  

"I don't need a reason to enjoy your body again.” he gave back. “Or an excuse, for that matter. You should know that by now, mi amor."  

"Oh, I do." you sighed. "Why do you think I brought this swimsuit?"

Snickering, he ran his hands up and down every soft curve of your body. “You mean this little thing?" He tugged on the fabric of your top, enjoying how little it covered. "I do love it. Almost too much, darling...”

You chuckled quietly at his words. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his eyes traveling the length of your body once more. "It looks so... good.” he mumbled dreamily. “Really reveals your curves. I love it." His hands ran up and down your legs now, taking his time to caress your smooth skin. His touch on your thighs almost lingered just a bit longer than necessary.

"I'm glad." you mumbled. "Picked it just for you, mi amor."

He hummed happily as you called him that, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs and then up to the tiny fabric strip of your swimsuit in the middle. He tugged on it a little as if testing your limits.

"You're trying to kill me here, aren't you?" he asked.

You grinned softly. "Only a bit."

He chuckled, continuing to tease you with his touch. His hand reached over, picking up the lotion again, before squeezing some onto your thighs, spreading it across your soft skin.

"You're gonna end up going to that bar with a little... problem, if you keep this up.“ Pedro murmured.

You huffed. "What problem?"

Chuckling again, he continued to spread the lotion, moving further and further up your legs, until his knuckles were brushing against your bikini bottoms.

"Oh, I think you're smart enough to figure that one out, mi vida. Unless, of course, you want me to explain myself?"

"Please do." you breathed out, though knowing exactly what he meant. "Wouldn't wanna risk a misunderstanding."

He smirked, his hand moving just a little higher up and around your body. Then, very subtly, he moved his finger against the front of your bikini bottoms, pressing it right against the sensitive area there, not doing much, just touching.

"I think you know exactly what's about to happen if you push me a little further, darling."

You swallowed, heat rising up your spine. "You sure?" you asked, keeping your voice steady. "‘Cause I'm not."

He chuckled. You were testing him, challenging him. It excited him, though, knowing you wanted to see how far he'd go. He didn't mind showing you one bit.

"You're a naughty little tease." he breathed out, slowly applying pressure to your sweet clit with his finger, rubbing it gently and teasingly through the fabric, just to see your reaction.

You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your hips from moving. "Am I?" you asked. "And here I thought that part was yours, old man."

He smirked at you calling him old, knowing fully well by now that was only for the purpose of riling him up. He loved it.

"Old man? That ain't very nice, darling." He mused, rubbing over your clit a little rougher. He was trying to find your limits, testing your patience.

"Ain't it?" you breathed out, the slightest bit of strain to your voice. "Just stating facts. You're older than me, I was told to show respect to my elders."

He snickered. "Elders aren't the same as old men, mi amor.“ he said. „I don't think you're showing much respect here. Not with the way you're teasing me, at least.“

"Not doing it on purpose." you tried to defend yourself, though it was a clear lie. "Maybe a little."

He smirked, continuing to rub your clit. Slowly, but surely, rubbing a little faster every time he moved his finger. He loved teasing you too, just to see when you'd give in.

"A little? You're doing it on purpose entirely, mi vida. You love to tease me, and you enjoy every second doing it." he gave back, brows furrowing slightly.

You bit your cheek, a strangled breath leaving your lips. "Just tryna test your durability." you said. "Fifteen years aren't nothing, baby."

Pedro chuckled, continuing is ministrations on your clit before moving his fingers across the edge of your bikini bottoms, teasing you with the idea of slipping them underneath them. He knew you couldn't last much longer, but you knew he was just as weak as you were.

"Hmm, you mean you doubt my durability, darling? Is that what you're trying to say here?" His voice was low, his words barely above a whisper.

You bit your lip. "I'm just tryna look out for you, Josè." you said. "Can't have you getting bored with me."

He chuckled and bit his lip, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "Oh, I could never get bored with you. Not after seeing you like this, mi amor. So beautiful, so... desirable." Moving his fingers back to your clit, he added a little more pressure, just enough to send a jolt through your body. "And that's why you won't ever have me get bored in the first place.“ he added.

"Hngh- that's good to know." you pressed out, inhaling shakily. "You're being mean, Pedro."

He chuckled, his touch getting more intense the longer he continued. He loved to tease you like this, loved the way you reacted to his touch. He knew he was close to breaking you. All he had to do was push you just a little bit further.

"Oh, I'm being mean, am I?“ he mused. „Well, maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to tease an old man like me, darling."

You scoffed. "That's not fair."

He smiled, leaning closer to your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. "Not fair?“ he echoed, his hot breath fanning against your skin. „It's not fair that you tease me, knowing what it does to me. And it's not fair that you keep testing me, just to see where I break, when we both know damn well that you aren't lasting much longer either.“

You bit your cheek. "We're at the beach." you breathed out.

He smiled, whispering against your skin, his hand running the risk of pushing your bikini bottoms to the side once more, but not quite getting there yet. He loved the reactions he was getting out of you so far, he loved the way you breathed faster, the way you squirmed. He loved it.

"No one's nearby.“ he mumbled. „They're all more towards the entrance of the beach, mi vida. We've got the corner all to ourselves..."

You huffed quietly. "Still wanna go to that private place?"

Pedro pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hand moving across the crotch of your bikini bottoms. He was testing your limits.

"A private place would be nice, yes." he whispered to you. "Or we could stay right here, see how far you'll let me go...“

You swallowed, heat rising farther up your body. "That was the purpose of the question, Pedro.“ you gave back, doing your best not to squeeze your thighs together.

Pedro’s fingers found your clit again, slowly beginning to move them in circles once more. He whispered into your ear, his voice low, rough.

„I just want you to admit it, mi vida... Are you desperate for me, darling? Do you need me as much as I need you right now?"

"Always, Pedro." you breathed out. "You know that."

He chuckled, gently kissing your neck again. That admission from you was more than enough for him. He knew you needed him just as bad as he needed you. Without warning, his fingers moved the fabric of your bottoms to the side, his fingertips brushing against your bare, sensitive folds.

"How much do you want me, mi vida?” he whispered. “You need my touch? Need it so bad you're letting me do this right here in public?"

You swallowed thickly, the wetness pooling between your legs intensifying. "Yes, Pedro." you breathed out. "So much."

He hummed happily at your words, pleased with your response. He pushed a single finger inside of you, though not moving it yet.

"You'll need to stay quiet for me, mi amor.“ he murmured. „We wouldn't want anyone to see us, after all. Could you do that, darling?"

You bit your lip, leaning your forehead against the backrest as you let out a strangled breath. "Sure."

Pedro chuckled, moving his finger slowly in and out of you, eliciting a broken moan to spill from your lips. His movement was steady, but he didn't want to rush things just yet. You had time.

"Are you sure you can stay quiet?“ he wondered out loud. „Because you're not being all too quiet right now, mi amor. Just imagine what the others would think if they saw you right now... You're not as good at holding in your sweet little noises as you think you are."

You breathed shakily. "Yes, Pedro." you mumbled as your spine seemed to liquefy to lava. "I can.”

He smiled, chuckling softly in your ear. He knew you couldn't, he knew you would break eventually. But damn if it wasn't fun to tease you like this. He pressed a kiss to your neck.

"We shall see, mi amor. We shall see..."

His finger kept moving, steadily getting faster and rougher as he went along. Continuing to listen to you for now, he paid attention to any noise, any whimpers, or even the smallest of moans you let out.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. White hot pleasure nipped at your nerve endings, want and desire swirling through you.

Pedro knew what he had to do. He moved his finger faster, pressing his lips to your neck, moving up and down the sensitive skin there.

„That’s it, mi vida. Just focus on your breathing.“ he whispered to you, his movements not stopping anytime soon. „Good, good. Just breathe…“ 

You squirmed, feeling lightheaded already. „Pedro.“ you breathed out. „You’re not helping.“ 

„I know.“ he whispered, his lips pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear. He was enjoying getting this reaction out of you, enjoying this game of his. 

„But I want to see how bad you need Me. How bad you’re craving my touch.” He pressed a kiss to your neck again. „You’re holding out longer than I expected you to, mi amor. Maybe you deserve a little more?“ 

„Please, Pedro.“ you breathed out. For someone so innocent looking he clearly wasn’t. 

He chuckled softly to your begging, amused by your submission to him. He hadn’t expected you to break that quickly. But now that he had you so desperate, begging him… Who was he to deny you, mi amor? 

„You’re doing so good, mi vida. So good for me.“ he whispered to you, moving his finger inside of you faster for a second, before pulling it out and moving it up. He found your sweet nub again, rubbing against it before he started moving his fingertips in figure eights, adding pressure as he went. 

You drew in a sharp breath, hips bucking almost automatically into his hand as more heat crept up your spine. You whimpered, desperately trying to keep quiet. Maybe it hadn’t been your best idea to do this out here. 

He grinned against your neck, enjoying the reaction he got out of you. You were so perfect, so responsive to his touch. To him. He loved it, loved the way you bucked your hips into his hand, trying to get more, the way you whimpered so quietly, trying to keep it in. 

„Shhh, mi amor. Remember you need to stay quiet. You don’t want the people nearby knowing what we’re doing.” he reminded you. As if he had to. “Do you?“ 

You huffed. Or the press. That’d be a headliner, though. Pedro Pascal fucking his younger girlfriend at the public beach. „I know...“ you groaned. Your hips already ached, the coil inside of you winding tighter and tighter. 

„Don’t let out too much more noise, mi amor.” Pedro said, his tone almost a whine as his strong facade crumbled. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer if you keep whining and whimpering like that." 

You whined on purpose, biting your lip, hard. Fuck! you thought. He was driving you right towards the edge of sweet bliss. 

Pedro heard the whine, knowing that meant he was pushing you closer to the edge. He couldn’t hold back anymore, he was too excited and needed you just as bad as you needed him. He gently bit down on your exposed neck, hard enough to leave a mark, causing you to hiss. 

„Hush, mi amor.” he whispered, tongue brushing over the mark. “We’re still in public. Hold back the cute little noises you’re making and I promise, I give you whatever you want later.” 

„Please, Pedro.“ you whimpered, squirming underneath him. „Need you now.“ 

He chuckled in your ear, enjoying your begging. He was getting close to losing control, losing any sense of decency. But he wanted to get you off before he took care of himself, wanting to see you finish first. Hearing you whimper had him losing his composure, so desperate to do it right then and there. 

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, leaving you trembling as you teetered on the edge, gasping for air. „Pedro,“ you breathed out. „I- I’m-” 

He smiled as he heard the desperate way you were begging for him, knowing you were close, and he didn’t dare stop now. 

„Shhh, mi vida. I know… I know you’re close, mi amor.“ he whispered soothingly, wanting to send you over the edge. „Don’t hold it back, mi amor. I‘ve got you. Let go.“ 

You squirmed, drawing in a shaky breath before you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your mouth with your hand as you came, violently clenching around nothing. Your body trembled, hips bucking wildly. 

He could still hear the sweet little whimpers leaving your throat as you came for him. Just hearing you like that almost sent him over the edge on its own, his own breathing heavy in your ear as he helped bring you back down from the high. 

„That’s it, mi amor. Good, good. You did so good for me, mi amor.” 

You gasped for air, trying to steady yourself. Fuck. 

He pulled his hand away, letting you catch your breath for a bit., moving his hands back up to your thighs. He wasn’t done with you yet. „You did such a good job holding back your sweet litle moans, mi amor.“ he whispered to you, leaning down and pressing small kisses to your neck. „Now I think you deserve a little more.” 

You swallowed, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck you into oblivion already. „Please...“ 

He pressed more kisses to your neck, his hands moving back to the edge of your bikini bottoms, tugging at them. „Please what, mi amor?“ he teased. “You need to tell me, darling. Use your words.” 

„Please fuck me, Pedro.“ you breathed out, not caring how desperate you sounded. You’d go crazy if he wouldn’t be inside of you soon. 

„There you go, mi amor.“ he mumbled, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin, fingers slowly pulling your bikini bottoms to the side once more, exposing you further to him. He loved the sight. He’d never get tired of it.  

„That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.“ he mumbled, leaning down a bit, pressing a kiss to the top of your spine before moving his hands and cupping your ass, squeezing slightly. 

Another sight he’d never grow tired of. He groaned quietly as you wiggled underneath him impatiently, your ass swaying with every movement. Yet he was just as impatient. Pulling his swimming trunks down enough to free his throbbing cock, he gave it a few pumps. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t already been leaking into his trunks as he’d taken care of you. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” he mumbled, using his precum to lubricate himself. 

„I’ll be quiet.“ you gave back. „I promise.” 

„Good girl.“ he mumbled, positioning himself, before slowly and gently beginning to rub his aching length against your glistening folds, letting the friction build up for a few moments. 

You suppressed a moan, inhaling shakily. He was riling you up and you loved and hated it. 

He smiled, moving his hips just a bit faster. 

„You’re being very quiet, mi amor.” he mused. “Are you actually serious about keeping your promise?“ 

„Yes.“ you breathed out, eyes fluttering. „Yes, mi amor.“ 

Humming happily, he moved his hips again, a subtle hint that he was going to push in, if you were ready. You pushed your ass further up, as good as it was possible in your position. 

„I’m going to hold you to that promise, darling.“ he whispered, his hand gripping onto your hip a bit tighter. 

With one final movement, he finally pushed inside, stretching you oh so deliciously. He moved his fingers back onto your hip to steady you, whilst he sank further and further into your warmth, hissing as your velvety walls clenched and fluttered around him in response. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with a gasp as he split you open. Fuck, so big. You would never get used to his girth, no matter how often he’d fuck you. 

He listened to your reaction, enjoying the way you gasped with a small grin. He always loved to hear you like this, cherishing the moment he’d sink into you. He rarely did it fast, too greedy for the way you reacted, nearly sucking him in. 

„Pussy’s so good to me.” he mumbled, his breath hot against your neck.  He wanted this to last for a while, but he didn’t know how long he could hold out.  

You shivered at his words, clenching around him. He hissed in return, huffing a breathy chuckle. He knew you did it on purpose, and damn if he didn’t love it. 

Slowly, he started moving his hips, trying to be gentle and not rock the chair – or worse, topple it over. It wouldn’t have been the first time, yet he didn’t need it to happen right here where everyone could see. 

He moved slow, wanting to enjoy this, every gasp, every whimper that left your lips. „You're so good for me, mi vida.” he breathed out, hips rutting into you a bit faster. “Pussy’s been made for my cock, huh?”

You clenched around him, sighing his name. “Only for you, baby.”  

A soft moan left his mouth as he felt you clench around him once more. „So sweet and eager for me.” 

He thrust a little harder, faster, effectively fucking the thoughts of other people possibly seeing you out of your head. Leaning closer, his chest brushed your back as he angled his hips to push deeper. 

You moaned quietly, his name leaving your parted lips. „More, please, Pedro.” you whimpered. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck, grinning against your skin as he heard you moan his name again. As you asked for more, he moved a little faster, his hand slipping farther down your body. 

„That’s it, mi amor… Moan my name for me.“ he whispered, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. He could tell he was getting close already, but he wanted to be absolutely certain you were getting what you needed first. Not that he had any doubts that you were enjoying every second of this, considering your whimpers and sounds, but he wanted to make sure. 

„Let me know when you’re close, mi amor. Want you to finish before me.“ he breathed into your ear, teeth tugging on it lightly. 

You clenched around him once more at his words. Always so considerate. „I will“ you breathed out in a whimper. „Want you to come inside of me. Want your cum dripping outta me, Pedro.” 

He moaned hearing your words. Hearing you telling him exactly what you wanted was just so damn exciting, so hot… it pushed him right towards the edge. 

„Anything you want, mi amor.” he promised. “Will give you anything you want, mi vida. Anything you need.“ 

His movements were getting rougher now, not bothering to hold back from you anymore. He didn’t need to. He could trust you, he knew you wouldn’t give them away to anyone. He just knew. And that allowed him to forget about everything else, just focus on you and this moment right there. 

„Do you need more, mi amor? Are you getting close, mi vida?“ he wanted to know. 

You whimpered in return. „More, please?“ you asked. „Your fingers, please, Pedro. Can feel you twitching already.” 

He growled against your skin, wrapping his arm around your chest, holding you firmly, so he could use his other hand for you. „That’s it. That’s my good, sweet girl. Asking for what you want, being so desperate for me. I like that, mi amor. I’Il give you what you need.“ he mumbled directly Into your ear, the words sending chills through your body as you listened to them. 

„Move your lower half up for me a little, so I can take care of you, mi amor.“ 

You did as you were told, lifting your hips a little. 

Pedro hummed happily feeling you move, giving him a better angle. He was pretty certain that nobody from the beach would be able to see anything from here, and he didn’t care either. All he cared about right now was you and that you needed him. His hand slid down your body, feeling down your stomach for a moment, until it was able to move the fabric of your bottoms aside once more. His fingertips found your sweet clit, rubbing over it in small, quick movements, wanting to please you. Sure, he could have taken his time, could have made you come on his cock alone, but he didn’t know how much time you had until someone would question what was going on under your parasol. He wanted to make sure you felt good, and make sure you’d reach your peek. 

You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gasped, hoping no one would hear you. 

„Shhh, mi amor, you’re being so good.” he praised you. “Being so quiet. Such a good girl for me. But I know you’re close.“ He moved his hips a little rougher, moving them in a steady, quick pace now, matching his fingers. He was getting close, and he was starting to get desperate, but he never forgot about your needs. 

Moving his fingertips in quick, small circles, he knew it would almost certainly send you over the edge. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last, but he didn’t care. It was all about you, about making you feel good.  

The pleasure was mind numbing, the way he fucked you always so good. It didn't take long for you to teeter on the edge.

You stiffened slightly in his hold, hiding your face in the backrest of the chair as the coil tightened, and you fell apart, desperately trying to muffle any sounds.  

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he heard you finally let go, falling apart for him. It was an amazing sight when he was able to make you finish, and he loved it. Just then though, he was unable to hold back. You clenching around him, your noises you tried to keep quiet… He finally gave in, coming inside of you, gasping into your ear as he breathed your name over and over again.   

You whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Perfect, just perfect. 

He pressed kisses to your neck, trying to catch his breath, still holding you against his chest. He needed you close, he just needed to feel you against him, needed to be close to you right in that moment. You grounded him like no one else did.

„I love the way you sound when you come for me, darling.” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s so sweet and perfect. The sounds you make... I love them. I love every part of you…” 

You smiled, still trying to calm your breathing „I love you, Pedro.“ you breathed out, exhausted.  

He chuckled softly into your neck, holding you close against his chest and kissing your neck a couple times. „I love you too, mi vida. So much. You’re perfect.“ 

He slowly pulled out, pulling your bottoms back into place. As much as he would have loved to just stay there with you, he knew they eventually had to move. He had no intention of leaving you anytime soon though. He was happy here on the beach. 

You whimpered involuntarily when he pulled out, sighing deeply as you sank further into the chair. „You’re too good to me, Pedro.“ you mumbled. „Leaving me full of your cum.“ 

He chuckled into your neck, loving how you spoke to him. He was already addicted enough to you, but hearing you using such filthy words... He pressed another kiss to your neck, his own breathing still a little heavy. „I’II always take care of you, mi amor. And I love taking care of you, especially in this way… I can’t deny you what you need, especially when I’m getting something out of it too.“ 

You huffed a chuckle. „Sounds just fair.“ 

He smiled, holding you in his arms, just enjoying the moment before anything else. „It does sound fair, doesn’t it?“ he mumbled. „There is one disadvantage to this, though.“  

You frowned, turning your head so your cheek rested against the backrest. „What is it?“  

He moved his head a little bit, leaning it against yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. „I'm not going to be able to let you wander around this beach again wearing just this without thinking of what I’m going to do to you in this seat again.“ 

[lokidjarin-7567]

I Hate It Here

Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Hi all! If anyone else is like me, I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Squid Game since watching season two, and wrote this piece on my fav this season! I still have a poll up on my page for what other characters I should write about (accidentally set it to a week rather than a day oops), so if you have any other requests, drop a vote there, and specific suggestions in my comments or asks if you have any. This also happens to be the longest fluff piece I've ever written, so I hope its ok! Will add another chapter if people like. Enjoy <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.

After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?

You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.

Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.

You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.

His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.

And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…

You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.

“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.

“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.

“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.

“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.

“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”

“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.

“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.

“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.

He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.

“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.

“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.

“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.

“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.

“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.

Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.

They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.

“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.

“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.

“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.

“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.” Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.

“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”

The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.

The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.

It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.

Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…

Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.

“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.

Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.

It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…

Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.

“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.

“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.

“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.

By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.

Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.

“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.

While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.

“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.

“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.

“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.

“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”

“You don’t name someone after their hair!”

“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.

"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."

“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”

“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.

“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.

“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.

“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”

“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.

“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.

“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.

“That would be perfect.”

It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.

“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”

Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.

It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.

“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.

“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.

"Goodnight, kind angel."

[nativegirltapes]

one of your favorite things about being with drew was that you got him in a way no one else did. to the outside world; your friends, his friends, his fans, he was the sweetest guy ever. and yeah that was true, but they didn’t see how nasty he really could be.

warnings: oral (m receiving), first time writing this i think so bare with me. i wasn’t sure how to end it because i feel like it was unrealistic to make him cum so quick idk ? lol

they didn’t get to see that little smirk and nod of approval drew would give you just before you’d unbuckle his jeans as he laid back on the couch.

“miss me that much?” drew giggled as he watched your pretty manicured nails tamper with his belt. the pretty manicured nails he paid for. it been a week since you and drew had seen each other, and now that you two were alone you didn’t want to keep your hands off him.

“yeah did you even miss me?” you shot back, pulling drew’s jeans down to his knees. “didn’t exactly see you in any rush to come eat me out.”

“you’re next baby, don’t worry.” drew brought one of his hands to your head, petting your soft hair, even tucking a few strands behind your ear.

you palmed at drew’s hard cock through his underwear, his eyes flickering back and forth from your face to the growing bulge in bottoms. you looked so pretty, and so cock hungry. “just gonna look at it or what?” drew teased.

“don’t get sassy.” you wrapped your hand around his still cloth covered dick, slowly rubbing up and down. you didn’t realize how much you missed the way drew got all tense and eager. it was fucking hot.

you gave his clothed dick a few more strokes before freeing it from his boxers, his dick immediately sprung up and hit his toned stomach. his length never failed to amaze you. you giggled to yourself before placing your pretty hands along his shaft, drew twitched at your sudden movements. “fuck baby,” he chuckled.

you gave his tip a few kisses before sucking on it, wet noises filled the room. god, you looked perfect. groans fell from drew’s mouth as you shoved his whole cock down your pretty little throat. drew swore he could’ve came right then and there, but he had to hold out. it’d been awhile since you gave drew head, you weren’t a fan of it, but tonight drew looked so good you simply couldn’t help yourself. “fuck,” he mumbled.

drew held a handful of your hair as your head bobbed up and down in his lap, the tears falling down your cheeks had his mind going crazy, and your face was covered in a familiar wet gloss. “so fucking good baby,”

[squidwriting]

#1: Welcome To The Team

⇥ Synopsis After a terrible accident, you had lost your memory. After years of struggling with your identity, a lucky coincidence brought everything back - only to find your life in shambles, and your husband missing.

⇥ Pairing Hwang In-ho x fem!reader

⇥ Warnings Spoilers for Season 1 & 2, angst, violence, graphic descriptions of injuries & death

⇥ A/N: Changed In-ho's backstory (obviously lul) so no spoilers there. :3 Hope you enjoy! 💕

⇥ Masterlist | [#2]

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Come again..?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Jun-ho's story was as grotesque as it was unbelievable. There was no proof, no way to know if he was actually telling the truth. On the other hand, Jun-ho has never lied to you. He had been there ever since you woke up from your coma.

"What is it your not telling me?" you asked quietly, searching his face with your eyes. You had known him ever since he was a little boy. You knew when he was lying - or hiding something.

"Hyung didn't just participate in the games. He...," Jun-ho swallowed thickly, averting his gaze, "...became a part of it. He's the leader now."

The conversation replayed in your mind as you watched Player 456 talk with the man in question: Player 001, Hwang In-ho - your husband of almost 20 years.

Jun-ho had obviously opposed your idea of joining the games. But you were too stubborn to listen to him, too stubborn for your own good. That's what In-ho always said anyway. Maybe he was right. Still, you lost almost ten years of your life to amnesia. If there was even the slightest chance for a way back to how things were... you would take it.

Ryuk Su-Yun. That was the name you chose for the registration. The name you had chosen after you left the hospital to start over, away from everything and everyone you knew - well, except for Jun-ho. You attempted to cut ties with him several times, too ashamed to let him in, when you absolutely refused to see your husband. But Jun-ho was persistent - even more so than you were.

You pushed the rice around in the tin lazily, thinking about your current situation. Thanks to Player 456, you survived the first game without a scratch. It would probably be wise to stick close to him going forward. Then again, that meant you had to face In-ho sooner or later.

A loud commotion ripped you out of your train of thoughts. Looking up, you found In-ho confronting two players who were ganging up on a third one. In a matter of seconds, the two bullies were silenced and groaning in pain, rolling on the floor dramatically. You bit your lip, trying not to chuckle. In-ho had always been a savage when dealing with bullies. The room erupted in applause, with him being the center of attention. You looked up slowly and found him staring directly at you. His face was like a mask, showing no emotion, betraying no thought of his. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to smile at him quickly, before immediately turning your attention back to your lunch.

Sleep did not come easy to you that night. In-ho had not approached you after the incident - and you thought about what to do when you two would eventually come face to face.

Funnily enough, you never thought about that possibility when you chased down the recruiter to enter this hell. Judging by Jun-ho's report, In-ho was working behind the scenes, observing these so-called "games". Why was he a participant? Did he recognize your name after all? Or was it because of Player 456 who claimed to be there for the second time?

In-ho... You sighed quietly and turned onto your side. It was strange to suddenly remember your life with him before you lost your memory. That day you regained it was like a fever dream, all the emotions and images from years ago flooding your mind - as if they were never gone in the first place. It was scary, knowing that you lost nearly 10 years of your life. How would your life be now, had not been run over by a truck? Certainly, you would not find yourself in a room with 400 other people literally gambling for your life. "Shit," you whispered angrily, rolling onto your back again, your eyes glued to the ceiling. What had you gotten yourself into? 

The light was almost blinding when the beginning of a new day was announced. Music sounded from the speakers, a melody far too happy and cheerful for a grim place like this. You climbed down from the bed carefully, stretching your limbs a bit. 

"You are... a strange one," a voice behind you said. "Pardon me?" You turned around, tilting your head slightly. The woman grinned, her eyes widening slightly. "Your aura is different from everybody else's. You're not here for the money, are you?" 

Before you could answer, another voice sounded through the speakers, telling all players that the second game was about to begin. As quickly as the woman appeared, she was gone again, leaving you behind confused and slightly startled. 

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, making out a few already familiar faces - including Gi-hun and In-ho. You bit your lip, contemplating your next move. It would be unwise to approach him directly. If Jun-ho's report was accurate, In-ho was nothing like the man you used to know anymore. What if he felt threatened by your presence? What if he snapped? 

Using a fake name was only a small part of your act. You had to be the woman whose name you were carrying. It was easy when you were still without memories. Now, it was more than complicated. What if you messed up? In-ho was smart, a former high ranking member of the Police. It would be easy for him to debunk your charade if he wanted to. Damn it, why did he have to pose as one of the players anyway? It complicated things to an impossible extent. 

"Hey 371! Come on, let's get going," you heard as you were pushed down the stairs gently. Looking behind you, you saw Player 388 smiling brightly at you. "Right," you nodded, letting him lead you down and outside to follow the guards to the next room. 

"A playground?" you whispered as you took in the scenery around you. "It's as nostalgic as it is morbid." 

Your mumbles remained unheard between the voices of the other ones - and Player 100 who apparently only possessed the ability to scream. The recipient of his ranting was Player 456 again. "That poor guy," you chuckled dryly, shaking your head a bit. 

"Players, welcome to the second game. We will begin shortly." Everytime you heard that voice through the speakers, your insides clenched painfully, for it never brought any joy or good news. "This game will be played in teams. Please take the next ten minutes to divide into groups of five."

You cursed quietly. Teams? There was no such thing in this place. Nobody really knew each other, nobody could be trusted; even more so since you still did not know which game you would play this time. How would you ever find good, reliable team mates? What if your team mates let you down and you would all die? What if-

"Hello again," the familiar voice from before spoke to you once more. 388. 

"Hi," you answered with a small smile. "Looking for a team to join?" 

"Uh, no, actually," he stuttered, rubbing his hands nervously, "we have a team, but we need one more member. If you're interested," he lowered his voice slightly, "we have two Marines and the guy who already won the games," he grinned. 

"And...? Who else?" 

"Oh," he answered quickly, "the guy who beat up those other two yesterday."

In-ho. 

Two marines, a former winner, and a former Policeman. That was probably the best team you could find in this place. Without hesitation, you took 388's outstretched hand and followed him to your new team.

The three men looked at you as 388 approached with you in tow. "This is... 371," 388 said proudly, "a... uhm..." "Taekwondo Instructor," you continued the introduction for him.

"Remind me not to mess with you then," the voice that was still terribly familiar to you said. You would recognize his voice anytime. Chuckling lightly, you bit your lip and willed yourself to look up at him again. He outstretched his hand to you slowly as he spoke up once more.

"Welcome to the team, 371." 

[stxrslutrestored]

party girl ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

starring; rafe cameron . sweetie!reader

synopsis; when you somehow end up in the hands of rafe cameron at a party, you find yourself trying all sorts of things that you’d never imagine yourself doing

content; use of cocaine, intox, slight coercion, dry humping, exhibitionism, taking of virginity (depending on how u view virginity), topper and kelce’s existence 

note; trying a new layout to match my new theme

“uhm… I think I’m just gonna go find my friends.” you try to excuse yourself from the conversation you’d find yourself caught up in with rafe cameron, you’d heard from many that he would be very bad news for you. 

he chuckles, “oh, nah,” he shakes his head, smirking down at you, “you don’t even know where your friends are. a girl like you shouldnt be walkin’ around all alone at a party like this, why don’t you come sit with me and my crowd huh?” 

you hesitate for a moment, the more rational side of your head thinking you definitely shouldn’t follow and alleged drug addicted psycho and possible murderer to his second location. the less rational side is thinking that you don’t want to be wondering around for ages looking for your friends, as it would be easier to just go with rafe and hope for the best. 

you eventually nod shyly, “okay, i guess..” you look down as rafe smiles and starts to lead you through the party, you follow him all the way downstairs to a corner where there are multiple chairs and couches placed around a coffee table that is scattered with cups, plastic baggies, pills and powder. 

rafe leads you to one of the couches, sitting down in what was presumably his spot before he went on the detour on which he acquired you. there isn’t any more space on the couch so you make to perch on the arm next to rafe, he smiles up at you. 

one of his friends – you recognise him as kelce – speaks up, “what’chu doin’ here sweetheart?” his voice is loud and yet barely audible over the buzz of the party around you. “didn’t think you were the type for this scene.” 

you shake your head timidly, doing your best to speak up and answer him, “rafe brought me,” you tell him, “i lost my friends.” kelce smirks, so does rafe’s other friend topper and you watch all three of the boys exchange looks you can’t tell the intention of.

you feel quite out of place as the men around you are all completely comfortable. they are loud and rowdy, all of them drinking or doing lines or both. you are drinking a pink fruity cocktail that you didn’t actually want for the alcohol and only asked for because it was cute and you could. 

you feel scared to chime into the conversations, so you end up not speaking until you’re finally spoken to. rafe turns up to you, that same wicked smirk plastered across his lips, “you ever done a line sweetheart?” he asks, voice carrying a suggestive tone. 

you immediately shake your head, “of course not. that stuff is so bad for you… i couldn’t ever destroy my body like that.” you say confidently, but then immediately realise your mistake of criticising the use of drugs, in a room full of people who do drugs, everyone is looking at you now. you smile uncomfortably, “but i don’t mind that you guys do it.. that’s.. just fine.” 

rafe chuckles, patting your shoulder, “no you’re right. shits terrible for the body,” he affirms your point, “feels too good to stop though.” he finishes, before leaning down to snort another line off the table. 

topper looks up to you, “maybe you should try some,” he suggests, “would make you understand us, not be so quick to judge.” he smiles smugly up at you. 

“i’m not sure,” you rush out, “i don’t know if my tolerance will be good enough for coke.” you try to make an excuse. rafe sits up, looking right up to you, his hand comes up to wrap around your shoulder, making it hard for you to not slip off the arm of the couch and land in his lap. 

rafe speaks, “nah it’s not that bad.” he assures, “toppers right. why don’t you try it, to expand your horizons.” 

you shake your head, “I couldn’t possibly—“ but rafe cuts you off, clearly set on his motive now. 

“just a little bit,” he smiles, holding a line on his thumb, right there for you to accept. you feel like you can’t say no. 

“I don’t know how to do it,” you inform him and he chuckles, patting his leg. with everyone watching there’s really not much you can do, so you scoot over to sit on his lap, looking around the room self consciously. 

rafe chuckles, lining his hands up under your nose, “when I say, you just sniff, okay?” he says and you nod timidly. a few seconds pass and then rafe speaks, “go.” you immediately sniff, scrunching your face up as you feel the powder go up your nose. you feel the urge to sneeze but you just about manage to hold it back.

rafe smiles, rubbing your back as the others around the table cheer just a little. it’s already starting to hit you, the high, its weird, like everything is a bit distorted, sounds muffled, faces blurred, you feel good. 

soon you’re the highest in the room, despite probably being the one on the least substance. you’re now completely comfortable in rafe’s lap, leaning against his chest and almost constantly giggling at something in passing. 

something else is happening too, you’re starting to shed, that means you are beginning to want to get more comfortable, first taking your hair down and then removing your coat, now you want to take off the tights under your dress. with no social awareness due to the fact that well, youre up in the clouds, you stand from rafe’s lap and begin to pull them down as if undressing yourself. 

“woah there,” topper laughs, “bit forward don’t you think.” he jokes, looking to kelce as they both laugh at your behaviour. rafe smiles up at you, a different look in his eyes. 

“getting hot there?” he asks and you nod, assuming he’s referring to temperature. “need somethin’ to calm you down a little bit? i think you do.” 

you frown, “like what?” 

rafe smiles and leans back on the couch, spreading his legs and patting his leg, “come here and get yourself off.” he says, it’s blunt and forward and surprising. but in your drug addled mind, it just doesn’t take you aback.

almost without hesitation you start to approach, the only thing that makes you stop and think is topper and kelce in the back, laughing and saying something about ‘oh shit she’s really about to do it,’ and ‘didn’t think his plan would really work.’ 

you only look back for a second though, you decide fuck it! you climb into rafe’s lap, straddling him. you lean into his chest and without second thought you start to grind against his crotch. the material of his pants is rough against your pussy that is only covered by your thin little panties.

but you allow yourself to forget that, and soon you’re losing yourself in the feeling of deep, pleasurable stimulation. your head is thrown back and you’re moaning out loud, uncaring of the looks you get from all over the room. 

its minutes of total bliss for you until you finally reach an orgasm, you nearly scream in pleasure. you’re so high and happy that you don’t even register the fact that this is the first ever orgasm you’ve experienced. 

when you’re done with your moment of bliss you flop into rafe’s chest, completely spent and ready to crash from your high. the last thing you hear before basically passing out is something from toppers mouth, “guess she really is a party girl.” 

[gothicfied]

(Squid game s2) Can you write a comfort fic about an insecure reader has past trauma and has endured Highschool bullying. When she joins the games and is in the group (Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Jun-hee & others) but once they meet Jun-hee she gets pushed aside and has to join another group in the second game. Feel free to change or add anything, the pairing could be Daeho x reader but it’s up to you <33

Never alone again - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader

Summary: After seeing you almost die, Dae-ho swore he wouldn't leave your side ever again.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

A/N: hii! tysm for the request and I hope I did it justice.

You believed Gi-hun from the start. You believed he was right, no sane person would just say stuff like that, right? That they kill each player who gets eliminated? He seemed too damn serious for it to be a lie. And lo and behold, he was right. People. Shot dead. Right in front of you. Red-Light-Green-Light was a traumatic experience. You wanted to quit, you wanted to go home, go home and hug your parents and just be grateful to still be alive.

It was like the universe had turned against you. How wasn't everyone scared out of their minds like you? Was money really all that mattered to them? A heated discussion broke out during the first voting, angry voices yelling at each other, accusing Gi-hun of lying. You took all the courage you had left in you to try and stand up for him, at least make it known that you sided with him. Past experiences, especially your school time, usually made it hard for you to speak up, but that shouldn't really be an issue right now — You could end up dead, that's what worried you. After the voting, that didn't go your way at all, Gi-hun showed gratitude for your courage to say something and suggested you'd stick with him from now on.

Added to your group were In-ho, the last player who actually voted 'O', Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who were both former marines. While eating the lunch provided to you by the guards, those two immediately bonded over their former occupation, which you found endearing. Even though you were currently still to shy to join in on their conversations, you were content with just having a group you could stick to — Because you were sure you absolutely wouldn't survive in here alone.

"And, what's your name?" Dae-ho asked, as hd took a seat on the stairs next to you, happily eating his food. When you told him he gasped, almost chocking in the process. "That's my sisters name!" he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. You just replied with a little "Oh? No way." and then he began rambling about his life, about his four sisters, about how his father sent him to be a marine and so on. He closed his monologue saying "Anyway, that's a really pretty name." and then proceeded to ask you for your leftover food. He made you laugh, which was nice considering you all were stuck in this hellhole.

In Dae-ho's opinion, you two had a lot in common, even if you didn't at all. He suggested you slept in the bed right under his which was.. well, free now after the first game. At night, you couldn't help but overthink your interactions with not only him, but the other three guys, too. They were so nice and welcoming. All of them had a special attribute that will probably be useful in the coming few days.. and you? You had the feeling that you brought nothing to the table.

The next day, a vast majority of the players went into the second game with the impression that this will be Dalgona, like Gi-hun predicted. Apparently not. The female voice over the speakers ordered the players to form groups of five. "Ah, how perfect," In-ho smiled, "guess we'll be a group then." You looked between the men, nodding in agreement and just when you were about to say something-

"Excuse me, are you maybe searching for one more person-?"

"Oh, no I'm sorry, we're actually already five peo-"

"I'm pregnant."

The girl cut Jung-bae off, resting her hands on her pregnant belly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and no one really seemed to know what to do next. Oh, you felt bad for her. She must've been very desperate if she entered the games while being pregnant. You five were just looking at each other confused, until you took a deep breath: "It's okay, I'll find another group. She needs to be with people she can absolutely win with." You looked at the girl and she looked back, slowly giving you a grateful smile. "No it's okay I'll go-" Dae-ho tried to say, but you waved him off, shaking your head.

"Well.. No, you can't just.."

"Dae-ho," In-ho said in a low tone, putting a hand on his shoulder, "she's pregnant." he said, like Dae-ho needed a reminder of what was right in front of him. You weren't that important to the team anyways, and that girl needed your help. So, it was decided, and in the end you did find a team of three players who voted 'X', like you, and one who didn't. You felt fairly safe with these people and even if you didn't, you didn't have much of a choice.

The game was a six-legged pentathlon with five mini games you had to split between each team member to complete. Watching the first few teams go was an absolute adrenaline rush, given the small amount of time of five minutes, the first few players were shot on sight pretty early on. This made you nervous to the point where you could throw up. Your original group was sitting a few meters away from youd current one and you did lock eyes with Dae-ho quite a bit, him giving you reassuring glances or a thumbs up. You mustered up a smile, trying yo calm your thoughts down.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this-

Oh but you could. Your team, which came before Gi-hun's, barely made it over the finish line with three seconds to spare, making the crowd of waiting players roar and cheer and yell "Good job!". The most time you lost was at Gonggi, thankfully not your mini game. Being able to beat yours on the first try filled you with the confidence you needed, which was probably the only thing that kept you up on your feet. Speaking of which, the shackles, that bound your left leg together with the player next to you, were taken off of them and you were free to go. Well, back into the dorm area.

Anxiously, you sat on your bed and waited, for your team. Players streamed in, one after the other, just not the ones you were so desperate to see. You were biting your fingernails, your thoughts being flooded with the fear of them all just dying, being left alone to survive this shit.

Suddenly, you heard a voice call out for you. It was Dae-ho (who else?) who basically sprinted to you. Before you could even stand up to reciprocate his hug, he pulled you up into his arms, squeezing the air out if his lungs. "Do you know how scared I was?" he sounded really out of breath. You didn't reply, just hugged him back the best you could and watched Jung-bae laugh to himself, watching the two of you. "I'm so glad you're alive! I'll never let you do that again, okay? Next time, I'll be the one to find another group.. not you okay?" His word vomit just wouldn't stop.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time."

"Obviously there won't be, I won't ever let you leave again."

[dreamersworldduh]

The Boy Who Broke Chains

• CONNER KENT x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Conner Kent, known as Superboy, is a powerful figure, capable of great destruction and widely feared. He is respected for his immense strength and serious demeanor, making him a strong ally. However, to you, he is much more than that. He is Project Kr, a clone of Superman from Cadmus who once helped you escape from captivity. You remember his fierce determination and how he fought for his own identity while freeing you. To the world, he's Superboy, but to you, he's the boy who brought hope and light.

WARNING! 18+MDNI! Swearing.

WORDS! 16.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Conner Kent is that guy, no one can tell me otherwise. The boy is fiooooneeeee, okay! This was a long one to write and it definitely trampled other fics I have planned, but I had get it out for the readers. Anyway, enjoy your reading! 😉 ✨

Acquiring the ability to control cosmic energy was never something you envisioned for your life, but desperate times can drive even the most ordinary person into extraordinary circumstances. For years, your family had been struggling under the suffocating weight of financial instability. Bills piled up like mountains, debts threatened to swallow your home, and your part-time job at the corner store barely scraped together enough to keep the lights on. Watching your parents age prematurely under the strain of endless stress made you feel helpless, as though you were merely a spectator to your family's slow unraveling.

But one evening, as you flipped through the faded pages of a secondhand newspaper, something caught your eye. It was a small, inconspicuous ad nestled between real estate listings and job postings. The bold letters read: "Volunteers Needed: Lucrative Opportunity. Life-Changing Rewards." Beneath it, the fine print offered no real details, just a phone number and one name: LexCorp.

You'd heard of LexCorp before—who hadn't? Depending on who you asked, it was either a beacon of technological progress or a shadowy conglomerate with too many secrets. Whispers about their projects varied from revolutionary to downright sinister. But desperation doesn't allow for hesitation. The promise of financial salvation was too tempting, so you dialed the number that same night.

A calm, professional voice on the other end of the line invited you for a preliminary interview. The process moved faster than you expected. Within days, you found yourself in a gleaming, sterile office building that loomed over the city like a monolith. You answered questions about your health, your resilience, and—strangely—your willingness to take risks. The interviewer never clarified what kind of risks, but when they slid the contract across the table, your focus locked on the reward: a sum so generous it could pay off all your family's debts and still leave enough for a comfortable life.

The contract was a labyrinth of legal jargon and densely packed paragraphs, punctuated by bold phrases like "irreversible effects," "assumption of risk," and "non-disclosure agreement." But the promise of freedom for your family outweighed any doubt, so you scrawled your signature across the dotted lines without looking back.

It wasn't until later that the grim reality set in. The "project" wasn't just experimental—it was dangerous. LexCorp had unearthed a crystalline artifact, a strange cube humming with energy not of this Earth. According to the scientists, it contained pure cosmic energy—an unstable force capable of reshaping matter, bending space, and altering the fabric of reality itself. They theorized that, in the right hands, it could create beings with abilities to rival even Superman.

You weren't alone in the program. A handful of other volunteers joined you, all desperate for their own reasons. The testing began almost immediately, a grueling process that pushed your body and mind to the brink. You were exposed to blinding flashes of the cube's energy, its chaotic currents coursing through containment fields barely strong enough to hold it. Each session felt like standing in the heart of a storm, your nerves stretched taut as the energy seared through your veins.

It didn't take long for the casualties to mount. One by one, the other volunteers fell. Some collapsed under the strain of the experiments, their bodies unable to adapt to the energy's raw intensity. Others met even darker fates as containment breaches unleashed bursts of uncontrollable power. The scientists treated each loss as a data point, scribbling notes on clipboards while their expressions remained disturbingly detached.

And then there was you. Somehow, inexplicably, you endured. Where others withered, you thrived. Your body didn't just survive the energy—it absorbed it, adapted to it, and transformed. You began to exhibit abilities that defied explanation: manipulating matter with a thought, generating bursts of pure energy, and sensing disturbances in the world around you as if you were tethered to something far greater than yourself.

At first, the scientists were ecstatic. You were their success story, their living proof that the experiment could work. But as your abilities grew, so did your unease. This power didn't feel natural—it felt like something alien, a force that didn't belong within a human shell. The memories of the other volunteers haunted you, their faces a constant reminder of the cost of your transformation.

The financial burden that had weighed so heavily on your family was gone, replaced by an entirely new weight—the realization that you were no longer just a person. You were a weapon, a product of ambition and desperation. Your life was no longer your own.

What began as a desperate attempt to help your family had turned you into something else entirely: a walking, breathing experiment. And while your body thrived on cosmic energy, your soul bore the scars of what you'd become.

The madness didn't end with your newfound powers. If anything, it spiraled into a nightmare beyond your darkest imaginings. LexCorp saw you not as a person, but as a priceless asset—an investment they intended to exploit to its fullest. To ensure you would remain under their absolute control, they delivered a cruel, calculated lie to your family: you had died in a tragic, catastrophic accident. There was no body, no closure, just grief. As far as your parents knew, you were gone—a victim of this cold, merciless world.

But you weren't dead. Far from it. LexCorp secretly transferred you to Cadmus, an infamous facility buried deep in classified government records, renowned for its cutting-edge but ethically dubious experiments in genetic manipulation and superhuman biology. The compound itself was a fortress, hidden in an unmarked location, surrounded by layers of security designed to ensure nothing—and no one—got out.

Your new "home" was a specialized containment cell, meticulously engineered to nullify your powers. The walls shimmered faintly with a metallic sheen, imbued with compounds and technology designed to absorb the cosmic energy flowing through your body. No matter how much strength you summoned, the cell rendered you powerless. It wasn't just a prison—it was a tomb for your autonomy.

The routines of captivity weren't physically harsh, but they were psychologically devastating. Each day was a dull monotony, a predictable loop that wore on your mind like sandpaper against stone. You were provided meals on a rigid schedule—nutrient-rich but devoid of flavor—and your quarters, while minimally comfortable, felt suffocating in their sterile, inhuman design. Time blurred into an endless expanse of sameness.

Occasionally, you had moments of interaction that broke the monotony. Conversations with the G-Gnomes, small, psychic creatures employed by Cadmus to probe your thoughts and monitor your mental state, offered a strange sort of companionship, though their eerie, insectoid features unnerved you. Then there was Kraig, a peculiar hybrid being who seemed almost amused by your predicament. He spoke in riddles, dropping cryptic hints about Cadmus's inner workings and the shadowy figures pulling the strings.

They also allowed you to practice your powers, but only under strict supervision. The training arena was a sterile, white void, filled with sensors that monitored your every move. You were tested to your limits—summoning bursts of energy, manipulating objects, even warping matter in controlled settings. But you weren't doing it for your benefit. Every session was another data point for Cadmus, another step in their quest to unlock and weaponize the full extent of your abilities.

The guards at Cadmus ensured compliance at all costs. They weren't your average enforcers. These were genetic hybrids, beings with enhanced strength, speed, and resilience, some of them augmented by alien DNA. Their presence was a constant reminder of the futility of resistance. Every hallway you walked, every glance from their cold, calculating eyes, made it clear that rebellion was not an option. Even if you managed to overpower them—which seemed impossible—the labyrinthine facility offered no clues about its location. No windows, no distinguishing features, nothing that hinted at where you might be in the world. For all you knew, you could have been on another planet.

The isolation began to chip away at your resolve. Days bled into weeks, the walls of your cell pressing closer with each passing moment. You began to lose track of time, your mind slipping into darker places. Dreams of escape faded, replaced by the oppressive reality of your imprisonment. And then, something unexpected happened.

On what seemed like an ordinary day, during one of your escorted walks to the training area, you encountered him. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. Standing before you was a figure straight out of legend: Superman. The same chiseled jawline, the iconic red cape, the unmistakable "S" shield on his chest. Your heart froze in your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to save you?

But Kraig, your enigmatic acquaintance, quickly corrected your assumption. This wasn't Superman. It was Project Kr—an imperfect clone crafted in Cadmus's relentless quest to control the power of Kryptonian DNA. Up close, you could see the cracks in the illusion: his slightly rougher features, the faint aura of instability in his demeanor. He was no savior, but another prisoner, bound by the same invisible chains that held you.

Meeting Project Kr changed everything. He wasn't just a clone; he was a person, struggling with his own identity, his own chains, his own quiet rebellion. In him, you saw a kindred spirit—a reflection of your own suffering and longing for freedom. For the first time, hope flickered in the darkness.

Finding someone to talk to was a relief, even if Project Kr wasn't exactly the warmest conversationalist. At first, your exchanges were brief—fleeting moments punctuated by short questions or observations. He wasn't particularly chatty, and his reserved nature made it difficult to know whether he even wanted to engage. Still, you persisted. Slowly, those terse exchanges began to grow into longer interactions. It might have started with a simple question—something about the sterile facility you both called a prison—but it gradually blossomed into hesitant conversations that carried the weight of mutual understanding.

Project Kr was captivated by your stories of the outside world. His eyes would narrow in quiet fascination as you described the mundane details of life beyond Cadmus. The way sunlight broke through trees in the morning, the scent of fresh rain on concrete, the chatter of strangers in a crowded marketplace—things you'd once taken for granted now felt like treasures as you recounted them. His questions were sharp and deliberate, as though each answer unraveled a world he had only dreamed of but never truly believed existed. You painted him pictures of blue skies and bustling cities, of quiet parks and chaotic streets. And every word seemed to stick, as if he was storing these glimpses of freedom deep within himself.

In return, you tried to nudge the conversation toward anything that might help you escape. You asked careful questions about the facility's layout, its security measures, and anything else that might give you a clue. But Project Kr's responses were vague, fragmented, and often unhelpful. It didn't take long to notice something was off about him. Sometimes, mid-conversation, his expression would cloud over, and he'd grow quiet, almost distant, as though listening to something you couldn't hear.

It was then you realized the truth: Kraig. The strange psychic hybrid who had been a begrudging presence in your life was manipulating Project Kr's mind. Subtly, perhaps even unconsciously, Kraig was twisting his thoughts and controlling his actions. The realization sent a chill down your spine. One day, in a rare moment of privacy, you managed to warn Project Kr. You kept your tone neutral and your words vague to avoid tipping off Kraig, but you urged him to be cautious, to question the voices in his mind. Project Kr didn't acknowledge your warning directly, but his thoughtful silence made you hope he'd understood.

Your chance at freedom came sooner than expected—and from a source you never could have predicted. One day, alarms erupted through the sterile corridors of Cadmus. The red lights painted the walls in flashes, and the normally unflappable guards scrambled like panicked ants. You had no idea what was happening. Then the sounds of muffled combat echoed through the facility, followed by explosions and shouts.

The chaos found its way to your cell when the door hissed open, and three figures appeared: Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. Their presence was so unexpected that you thought it might be a trick or some elaborate test. But there they were, battered but determined, with Project Kr at their side. They wasted no time in freeing you. There was no room for questions or hesitation—only urgency. They needed to move, and you weren't about to argue.

The escape was a whirlwind of chaos. The five of you fought your way through the labyrinthine facility, dodging guards and tearing through security systems. The young heroes moved with reckless determination, their banter sharp despite the life-or-death stakes. You quickly found your place among them, using your powers to blast through obstacles and defend the group as the facility descended into absolute pandemonium.

Along the way, you liberated others—victims of Cadmus's cruel experiments. Some were like you, beings infused with strange powers, while others were creatures whose very existence seemed impossible. Together, you all made your way toward freedom, leaving destruction in your wake. Guards fell, alarms blared, and containment units shattered as the facility unraveled.

When you finally broke free, the night air hit your skin like a long-forgotten memory. You barely had a moment to savor the victory, though, before the Justice League arrived. The towering heroes descended like gods from the sky, their presence commanding. But instead of celebration, you were met with sharp disapproval. Batman's cold glare, Wonder Woman's disappointment, and Superman's shock all weighed heavy on the young heroes.

The League was unimpressed with the recklessness of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. But it was the sight of Project Kr that truly sent ripples through the group. Superman froze, staring at his clone with a mixture of disbelief, discomfort, and unspoken questions. The tension in the air was palpable as the League tried to make sense of what had happened and what Cadmus had been hiding.

You stood awkwardly amidst the chaos, unsure of where you belonged in this strange new reality. All you wanted was to go home, to finally see your family again and leave this nightmare behind. But it quickly became clear that wasn't going to happen—not yet. Batman's sharp, calculating gaze lingered on you, assessing your powers, your potential. You felt like a puzzle piece he was already trying to fit into a grander scheme.

It wasn't freedom you had walked into—it was the beginning of something much larger. The escape had torn open a new chapter in your life, one where you were no longer just a prisoner but a player in a game far beyond your understanding. And as the Justice League deliberated your fate, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the start of something far more complicated, far more dangerous, than you'd ever imagined.

Returning home should have been the end of your nightmare, but instead, it marked the beginning of a more complicated and harrowing chapter in your life. Batman, true to his word, arranged for your return to your family, but not without strings attached. Standing in the shadows of your old neighborhood, he issued a warning: he would be watching, checking in periodically to ensure you didn't lose control—or endanger anyone. His voice was steady, almost detached, but his presence left little room for argument. Exhausted, you didn't press for details. All you wanted was to go home.

The reunion with your parents was both heartwarming and devastating. When they opened the door, their faces were a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, and overwhelming joy. The tears came quickly, followed by bone-crushing hugs, as they struggled to reconcile the son they thought they'd lost with the one standing before them now. But as relief gave way to reality, their joy turned to anger.

They didn't hold back, their voices rising as they scolded you for your recklessness. Volunteering for an experiment with LexCorp—of all places? What were you thinking? Didn't you know how dangerous they were? The words hit you like blows, but you understood the source of their anger. It was fear disguised as frustration, born from the agony they'd endured while believing you were dead. And though their scolding stung, it was underscored by a simple truth: they were just grateful to have you home.

For a brief time, it felt like life might return to normal. You tried to fall back into old routines, helping out around the house, making small talk at dinner, and even considering the possibility of returning to school. But nothing about you was normal anymore. The cosmic energy flowing through your veins wasn't something you could hide forever.

At first, the signs were subtle—a glowing fingertip here, a static hum in the air when you were nervous—but it quickly escalated. Your emotions became dangerous triggers. A flash of frustration could send a burst of energy surging from your hands, while excitement might cause objects to levitate or shatter. Despite your best efforts to suppress it, your powers were volatile and unpredictable. You knew you were losing control, and worse, your family was beginning to notice.

Then there was LexCorp. They weren't content to let you slip through their fingers. Just weeks after your return, strange cars began appearing near your house, their darkened windows reflecting nothing but menace. Agents loitered on the edges of your property, their suits sharp and their gazes sharper. They didn't bother hiding their intentions, occasionally knocking on the door with thinly veiled threats, demanding to know where you were. Their intimidation tactics grew bolder by the day, turning your home into a pressure cooker of fear and tension.

The breaking point came during an argument with your father. He had been on edge since your return, and his concern for your future boiled over when you mentioned wanting to go back to school. He insisted it wasn't safe—not for you, and not for anyone around you. But you were desperate for a shred of normalcy, and the argument escalated until it was loud enough to rattle the windows.

And then it happened. In a flash of frustration, you lost control. A surge of cosmic energy erupted from you, sending your father flying across the room. He hit the wall hard, slumping to the floor in stunned silence. Thankfully, he wasn't seriously hurt, but the look on his face—the mixture of fear and disbelief—broke something inside you. He wasn't looking at his son anymore. He was looking at a stranger, someone dangerous, someone he couldn't protect.

You knew then that you couldn't stay. As much as you loved your family, as much as they loved you, you were a threat to their safety. And LexCorp's shadow looming over them only made things worse. You couldn't protect them here—not from yourself, and not from the enemies you'd made.

Desperate and unsure of what else to do, you made a decision that felt surreal: you called Batman. The fact that you even had the means to summon the Dark Knight was a strange reminder of how far your life had strayed from normalcy. When he answered, his voice was as calm and precise as ever. After you explained the situation, he listened quietly before offering a solution.

Batman extended an invitation—or perhaps a directive. He offered you a place at The Cave, a secret base for young heroes and sidekicks under the mentorship of the Justice League. It wasn't just a sanctuary; it was a training ground. There, you could learn to control your powers, defend yourself, and face the enemies who would inevitably come for you. It wasn't a retreat—it was an enlistment into a dangerous new world.

The Cave was unlike anything you'd imagined. Hidden beneath layers of earth and stone, it buzzed with cutting-edge technology and the faint hum of activity. This wasn't just a hideout—it was a hub for covert operations. The young heroes who called it home were unlike anyone you'd ever met. Aqualad, Robin, Kid Flash, and others moved through the space with confidence, their actions precise and their camaraderie sharp-edged. They weren't just kids—they were warriors in training, bearing the weight of their mentors' legacies.

You felt out of place among them, like an outsider in a world where everyone else already knew their role. They were fast, skilled, and experienced, while you were still struggling to keep your powers in check. But this was your new home, your new reality. It wasn't what you wanted—far from it—but maybe it was what you needed. Here, under Batman's watchful eye and surrounded by others who understood the burden of extraordinary abilities, you had a chance to find stability.

This was no ordinary life, but then again, you were no ordinary person anymore. You weren't just a kid trying to fix your family's problems. You were something more—a fledgling hero, a potential force for good. And as you stood in the Cave, surrounded by the hum of advanced technology and the determined faces of your new teammates, you realized this wasn't the end of your story. It was only the beginning.

Among the chaos, one thing brought you a measure of comfort: seeing Project Kr, now going by the name Conner. The sight of his familiar face, stoic as ever, made the adjustment a little easier. For Conner, the surprise was mutual. He hadn't expected to see you again, and though his expression didn't betray much, you could tell he was glad to have someone he recognized.

For you, it felt like a lifeline. You had barely interacted with the team members who had freed you—Kid Flash, Robin, and Aqualad—and they were already deep into their missions and camaraderie. While they were friendly enough, their bond made you feel like the odd one out. But Conner was different. He wasn't a polished hero or an experienced team player; he was just trying to figure things out, much like you. That small connection eased some of the tension.

Not long after settling in, you were introduced to two more members of the team: Artemis and M'gann. Artemis, with her sharp wit and cool confidence, made an immediate impression. She wasn't one to sugarcoat her words, and her tough exterior initially made her seem intimidating. But there was something about her—an edge of vulnerability beneath the bravado—that suggested she understood what it meant to fight for your place in a world that doubted you.

Then there was M'gann, or Miss Martian, who was the complete opposite. Her warmth and enthusiasm were like a burst of sunlight in the dim, serious atmosphere of the Cave. She greeted you with a beaming smile and an openness that immediately put you at ease. Her curiosity about you was genuine, and she made an effort to include you in conversations and activities, even when you felt like retreating into the background.

It didn't take long for you to realize how different each member of the team was. Robin was quick-witted and a little cocky but clearly brilliant; Kid Flash was an endless source of energy and humor; Aqualad carried himself with a calm, commanding presence that made him seem like the glue holding the group together. Conner, however, was still figuring out where he fit, much like you.

Through all of this, Conner remained a steady presence. While he wasn't one for long conversations, his quiet support was reassuring. Occasionally, the two of you would exchange a few words about Cadmus, your powers, or just the strange twists your lives had taken. Those moments of familiarity in an otherwise unfamiliar world kept you grounded.

Artemis and M'gann quickly became part of your routine as well. Artemis was the one who pushed you during training, challenging you to step up and prove yourself. M'gann, on the other hand, helped you feel like part of the team, her kindness and patience making the transition easier. Slowly but surely, you began to feel like you belonged—not just as someone seeking refuge, but as a true member of something bigger.

In your free time, you and Conner began spending more and more time together, falling into an easy, natural rhythm that neither of you had expected. At first, it was just casual conversations, catching up on everything that had happened since Cadmus. You talked about the weeks you'd been apart—how he'd adjusted to life at The Cave, how you'd wrestled with your powers and the lingering guilt of your escape. Those chats were brief but meaningful, moments of quiet connection amid the constant chaos of life as young heroes. But before long, they became something you both craved—moments of solace that grounded you in ways nothing else could.

It was impossible not to notice how much Conner had changed. He was still the strong, silent type, but there was a new layer to him now, a quiet confidence that made him seem more centered. Gone was the unsteady, uncertain figure you'd met in the depths of Cadmus. In his place was someone learning to take control of his life, to find his place in the world. That growth only deepened your respect for him, and soon, your conversations began to shift. What started as small talk about training sessions or team dynamics turned into late-night discussions about your fears, your hopes, and the strange, winding paths that had led you both to this point.

It felt effortless, natural, like you could say anything to Conner without fear of judgment. He listened in a way few others did—quietly, intently, as if every word you spoke carried weight. And when he opened up in return, you could feel the trust he was placing in you, each admission a window into the person he was becoming. The bond between you deepened with every conversation, and it didn't take long for you to realize that what you felt for Conner wasn't just friendship. It was something much more profound, something that scared and exhilarated you all at once.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. How could you, when every glance he gave you seemed to linger a little longer than it should, when every brush of his hand against yours sent a shiver down your spine? Those piercing ocean-blue eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you breathless and flustered in ways you hadn't experienced before. And then there was his physique—broad shoulders, a chiseled frame, and strength that felt almost mythical. You'd caught glimpses of him without a shirt during training, and those moments had a habit of staying with you, replaying in your mind at the most inconvenient times.

But it wasn't just his looks. It was everything about him—the way he could calm your nerves with a simple look, the way he listened to you ramble about the smallest details of your day, the way his presence made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt since before Cadmus. Even his infamous temper, which should have been a warning sign, only drew you closer. You'd seen the fire in him, but you'd also seen the way he softened around you, the way your words could bring him back from the edge when no one else could.

And then there were the little things: waking up in the morning with thoughts of Conner already swirling in your mind, the sound of his voice echoing in your head long after he'd spoken, the way his rare but radiant smile could make your heart race. It wasn't just a crush—it was something deeper, something undeniable. You were falling for him, hard, and every moment you spent with him only solidified that truth.

Unbeknownst to you, Conner was wrestling with similar feelings. At first, he didn't understand what he was experiencing. Emotions were still a foreign concept to him, something he was learning to navigate, but the more time he spent with you, the clearer it became. The way his heart leapt when you smiled, the way your laughter could cut through the anger he so often struggled to contain, the way his pulse quickened every time you touched his arm—it all pointed to one undeniable fact: you weren't just a friend. You were someone who made him feel alive.

He began gravitating toward you without even realizing it. Whether it was during training sessions, missions, or quiet moments in The Cave, he found excuses to be near you. He volunteered to partner with you whenever possible and couldn't help but let his protective instincts take over whenever you were in danger, even though he knew you could handle yourself. It wasn't just habit—it was something deeper, something he couldn't deny no matter how hard he tried.

The rest of the team noticed almost immediately. The chemistry between the two of you was impossible to ignore, and it quickly became the subject of playful teasing. Kid Flash, ever the joker, took every opportunity to comment on the "will-they-won't-they drama," making exaggerated bets on how long it would take for one of you to confess. Robin smirked knowingly but kept his thoughts to himself, while Artemis alternated between amusement and light encouragement, often giving you both subtle nudges to just admit your feelings already.

But not everyone was thrilled. M'gann, who had her own complicated feelings for Conner, watched the growing connection with thinly veiled jealousy. She tried to hide it, putting on a brave face and pretending everything was fine, but her envy was apparent. It cast a shadow over the group dynamic, one that you and Conner both felt but didn't know how to address.

Despite the teasing, the jealousy, and the unspoken tension, nothing could stop what was building between you and Conner. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every late-night conversation brought you closer to the inevitable. The feelings between you were too strong to ignore, and sooner or later, one of you would have to take the leap. Because this wasn't just a fleeting crush—it was something unstoppable, something that had already started to change both of you in ways you couldn't begin to explain.

The weight of your emotions kept both of you tethered in uncertainty. That is, until one quiet evening when the truth could no longer be contained.

It had been a long, grueling day at The Cave. Training sessions had pushed everyone to their limits, and the tension among the team was palpable. You needed a break from the relentless chaos, and as if reading your mind, Conner had suggested a walk along the beach near the cliffs. Without hesitation, you agreed. Wolf, his ever-loyal companion, bounded ahead, his paws leaving faint imprints in the sand as he explored the shoreline. Occasionally, he would stop and glance back, his amber eyes checking to make sure you were both keeping up.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange, pink, and gold. The ocean mirrored the colors, its surface shimmering like liquid light as waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. A gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the sea, tugging lightly at your clothes and hair. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft crunch of sand beneath your feet and the distant calls of seabirds.

It was a moment of rare peace, one that felt almost too perfect to be real. For once, there were no missions looming, no training drills to face, no external pressures demanding your attention—just the two of you and the endless horizon.

Conner was the first to break the silence. His voice, quiet and contemplative, barely rose above the sound of the waves. "You know," he began, his gaze fixed on the distant ocean, "a lot has changed since I left Cadmus." There was a hesitance in his tone, as if he were still trying to piece his thoughts together. "Back then, everything was simple. Not in a good way, just... empty. I followed orders. Did what I was told. I didn't think about anything beyond that."

You glanced at him but stayed silent, sensing that this was something he needed to say in his own time. His jaw tightened briefly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his expression flickering with uncertainty. "Since then, I've learned a lot—about myself, about the world, about what it means to... choose who you want to be." He hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "And about what I want."

The confession caught you off guard, your chest tightening as his words sank in. Conner glanced at you, his ocean-blue eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Sometimes, it's overwhelming," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "I feel like I'm always trying to catch up, to figure out who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to do. But when I'm with you..." He stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

The wind ruffled his dark hair, and the fading sunlight bathed him in a golden glow that made his chiseled features look almost unreal. For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft but intense, as if searching for the right words.

"When I'm with you," he continued, his voice steady now, "everything feels... clear. Like none of the confusion or doubt matters. Like I can just be."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. The air around you felt charged, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you. Before you could respond, Conner took a small step closer, the sand shifting beneath his boots.

"I don't know how else to say this, so I'm just going to say it," he said, his voice firmer now, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "I love you."

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. He stood there, raw and unguarded, every wall he'd ever built stripped away in this one, vulnerable moment. "I didn't realize it at first," he continued, his voice quieter now, as if the confession itself had drained some of his resolve. "But I do. I love you. And it's not just some fleeting feeling—it's real. It's... everything."

The world seemed to stop. The waves, the wind, even Wolf's distant barking faded into the background. All you could see, all you could hear, was Conner standing before you, his words hanging in the air like the last rays of sunlight on the horizon. He looked at you with a mixture of hope and fear, his hands hanging uncertainly at his sides, as though he didn't quite know what to do with them.

"I love you," he repeated, softer this time, as if reaffirming it to himself. "And I don't care if it's messy or complicated. I just... I had to tell you."

It was then that you realized your hands were trembling, your emotions a whirlwind of shock, joy, and disbelief. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer weight of hearing those words spoken aloud. For the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion etched into his features.

"Conner..." you began, your voice catching in your throat. His name felt like a lifeline, grounding you in this moment that felt too big, too important, to fully comprehend. You stepped closer, your trembling hands finding their way to his. The warmth of his touch steadied you, his calloused fingers gently enclosing yours as if to anchor you both.

Looking into his eyes, you saw everything you needed to say reflected back at you—the trust, the connection, the undeniable truth of what you both felt. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in twilight, you realized that this wasn't just a moment of confession. It was the beginning of something new, something real, and something worth holding onto.

"I love you too," you whispered, and the smile that broke across Conner's face was brighter than the fading light of the setting sun.

The confession lingered between you like a fragile thread, heavy with emotion yet pulsing with potential. For a long moment, neither of you moved, the weight of Conner's words and the silent tension locking you both in place. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, as though trying to read your thoughts, his vulnerability exposed in a way you had never seen before. Then, as if something inside him shifted, Conner took a step closer—close enough for the warmth of his body to cut through the cool ocean breeze.

He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The intensity in his gaze said everything. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every opportunity to step back, to stop what was about to happen. But you didn't. Your feet stayed rooted in the sand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest as the world around you seemed to fall away. The rhythmic crash of the waves, the distant cries of seagulls, even the faint sound of Wolf panting nearby—all of it faded into nothing. There was only Conner, and the way he made the air between you feel electric.

And then his lips met yours.

The kiss was everything you hadn't realized you were waiting for. It was slow at first, tentative, like the beginning of a story you both wanted to savor. But it didn't stay that way for long. As the initial hesitation melted away, the kiss deepened, growing in intensity. There was a passion behind it, a rawness that spoke of everything the two of you had been holding back for so long. His lips were soft yet firm, his movements deliberate but hungry, as though he were pouring every unsaid word, every pent-up emotion, into this one perfect moment.

His hands, rough and calloused from endless training, moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the fervor of the kiss, and it sent a shiver through you. It was as though he were afraid to let you go, afraid you might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough. You leaned into his touch, your own hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him as if to anchor yourself in the surging tide of emotions threatening to sweep you away.

The kiss deepened further, and Conner pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. The feel of him—the strength, the warmth, the sheer presence—was overwhelming. His body pressed against yours, solid and steady, making you feel both consumed and protected all at once. You could feel the faint, steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, a grounding reminder that this moment was real, that he was real.

Your own hands slid up to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. Each movement, each touch, felt charged, electric. It wasn't just passion; it was love—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to contain. The connection between you seemed to hum with a life of its own, as if the universe had been holding its breath for this exact moment.

Conner tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further as his hands tightened around your waist, holding you close but still gentle, still careful. His touch sent warmth radiating through you, a heat that spread from where his hands rested to the very tips of your fingers. You felt as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it all, yet you didn't want it to end.

And then, reluctantly, the two of you broke apart, gasping softly as you both remembered the need to breathe. Conner didn't move far. His forehead came to rest gently against yours, his breath warm and uneven as he tried to steady himself. His eyes remained closed for a moment, a soft smile curving his lips—a smile so rare, so full of affection, it made your chest ache.

When his eyes finally opened, they were filled with a tenderness that made your knees weak. He didn't speak right away, and neither did you. Words felt unnecessary in the face of everything that had just passed between you. Instead, he lifted a hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, as if to confirm to himself that you were still there, still real.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he finally admitted, his voice low and almost shy, a sharp contrast to the confident strength he usually carried. The vulnerability in his tone only made your heart swell further.

"So have I," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft crash of the waves. The words carried a weight of truth that made him smile again, his rare, breathtaking smile that seemed to light up the darkening horizon.

For a while, neither of you moved, content to stay locked in this moment. His arms remained around you, holding you close as the ocean breeze swirled around you both. Wolf's distant bark brought a faint laugh from Conner, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he finally pulled back, though his hands never left your waist.

Standing there, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, you felt as though the world had shifted. The tension that had lingered between you for weeks, the unspoken feelings that had hung in the air, were gone. In their place was something real, something steady.

And in that moment, as you gazed into Conner's eyes and saw nothing but affection and certainty reflected back at you, you knew one thing for sure: this was only the beginning.

From that day on, everything changed. The kiss on the beach didn't just mark the start of your relationship—it was the foundation for something transformative, something neither of you had fully realized you were missing until that moment. You and Conner became inseparable, building a bond that was as powerful as it was tender. Over the next five years, your lives intertwined as you grew together, navigating the complexities of both hero life and the challenges of adulthood.

The beginning of your relationship was an adjustment period, filled with both excitement and learning curves. Conner wasn't the most expressive person when it came to words, but his actions spoke volumes. He showed his love in the quiet, meaningful ways that only he could. Whether it was standing protectively closer to you during tense missions, slipping you a cup of coffee just the way you liked it after a grueling training session, or silently sitting by your side during long, quiet evenings, his devotion was clear.

Conner wasn't one for grand romantic gestures, but the little things made up for it. He remembered details about you that no one else did—your favorite music, the way you liked to unwind after a stressful day, the exact spot on your shoulder that was always sore after combat training. His love wasn't loud or flashy, but it was steady and undeniable.

Of course, it wasn't perfect. Adjusting to each other's quirks and differences wasn't always easy. Conner's occasional temper and your own stubborn streak led to clashes, sometimes over the smallest things—who forgot to clean up after training, or which of you deserved the last slice of pizza after a long mission. Other arguments ran deeper, rooted in the immense pressure both of you faced as heroes. Sometimes Conner would shut down emotionally, retreating into himself when he felt overwhelmed. Other times, you'd push yourself too hard, refusing to admit when you needed help. But no matter how heated or difficult things became, the two of you always found a way to reconcile, your love proving stronger than any disagreement.

Not everyone was thrilled about your relationship—M'gann, in particular. It was no secret that she had feelings for Conner, and the announcement of your relationship hit her hard. Though she wasn't openly hostile, the tension was undeniable. At first, her actions were subtle: lingering a little too long in conversations with Conner, finding excuses to partner with him during missions, or offering advice that felt far more personal than professional. Her glances toward you were sharp, her words clipped and frosty whenever you were around.

You tried not to let it bother you, but there were moments of doubt. M'gann was stunningly beautiful, effortlessly charismatic, and had a connection with Conner from the early days of his life outside Cadmus. Part of you couldn't help but wonder if she could offer him something you couldn't. But Conner's loyalty never wavered. He made it clear where his heart lay, whether by politely but firmly shutting down M'gann's attempts or simply moving closer to you during team gatherings, taking your hand in his and grounding you in the reassurance of his presence.

Over time, M'gann began to accept the reality of your relationship. Her attempts to win Conner over became less frequent, and while the tension between you two never completely disappeared, it faded into the background. Eventually, her focus shifted toward her own growth, and though your relationship with her would never be warm, it settled into a quiet indifference. She became a minor distraction compared to the love and connection you shared with Conner.

As the months passed, you and Conner faced countless challenges together, each one shaping the bond between you. Life as young heroes wasn't easy—the missions were grueling, the stakes high, and the sacrifices often painful. But through it all, you were each other's constant. You celebrated victories together, no matter how small, and offered comfort during moments of doubt and loss. Conner's quiet strength became your anchor, while your unwavering support helped him find his footing in a world that often felt too complicated and overwhelming.

When life outside the team came calling, you tackled those challenges together too. From figuring out how to balance hero duties with the mundane struggles of daily life to simply learning what it meant to grow into yourselves, you became each other's greatest ally. On the days when it felt like the weight of the world was too much, Conner would pull you into his arms, his steady heartbeat reminding you that you weren't alone. And on the nights when his own doubts crept in, you were there to remind him of his worth, of the incredible man he had become.

Then five years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. You went from two unsure teenagers navigating the chaos of the team to adults who had found not just strength in one another, but a deep and abiding love that had weathered every storm. There were still challenges, of course—every relationship has them—but the foundation you'd built together was unshakable.

The connection that began in the sterile halls of Cadmus had blossomed into something extraordinary. Conner wasn't just your boyfriend—he was your partner in every sense of the word. He was the person who stood by your side in battle, the one who held you close when the nightmares came, the one who believed in you even on the days when you struggled to believe in yourself.

And you weren't just his boyfriend—you were his rock, his constant in a world that had once seemed so alien and confusing. You gave him a sense of purpose, of belonging, that he'd never known before. Together, you had built a life filled with love, trust, and the unshakable certainty that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them as long as you had each other.

What began as a quiet connection had grown into a love that was steady, powerful, and enduring. Conner was your home, and you were his. And as you looked toward the future, you knew that whatever storms came your way, you would weather them together. Always.

You two had grown into your roles as senior members of the now-expanded Team, a transformation that felt both surreal and inevitable. What had started as a small, tight-knit group of young heroes had evolved into a sprawling organization with dozens of recruits, each bringing their own unique powers, personalities, and challenges. It was a far cry from the days when you and Conner were the rookies, scrambling to keep up with the veterans. Now, you stood among the most experienced, entrusted with leading the next generation of heroes and steering them through the chaos of their missions.

Stepping into leadership roles hadn't been easy at first. The weight of responsibility was daunting, especially when you remembered your own early missteps. But with time, you both found your footing, developing your own distinct styles as leaders. Conner's leadership was natural, almost effortless. His steady presence and unshakable sense of duty made him a rock for his squadron. He commanded respect without demanding it, his quiet authority inspiring trust and loyalty. Conner was the kind of leader who always showed up—whether it was to guide his team through a perilous mission or to quietly offer a word of encouragement to a struggling recruit.

Your leadership style was different but no less effective. Where Conner's strength lay in his consistency and calm, you excelled at connecting with your squad on a deeper level. You had a gift for understanding people, seeing their potential even when they couldn't. Your approach combined empathy with just the right amount of tough love, pushing your team to grow while making sure they always felt supported. You understood the importance of believing in someone, of showing them they could succeed even when the odds felt impossible. Your recruits respected you not just as a leader, but as someone who truly cared about their success.

Despite the demands of leadership, the dynamic between you and Conner remained as strong as ever. Though your duties often pulled you in different directions, you always found time to collaborate. Whether it was during strategy meetings, debriefing after missions, or those quiet moments when you both needed to vent about the latest recruit who thought they could "go solo," you leaned on each other. You balanced each other perfectly—Conner's pragmatic approach grounded you, while your empathetic perspective often helped him see angles he might have overlooked. Together, you made a formidable team, both in and out of the field.

The new normal was a far cry from the uncertain days of your early years with the Team. Back then, you'd felt like you were constantly running to catch up, to prove yourself. Now, you and Conner had become the ones others turned to for guidance. It was a strange realization at first, but also deeply rewarding. You weren't just fighting battles anymore—you were shaping the future, mentoring the next generation of heroes who would one day carry the mantle.

That didn't mean it was easy. The new recruits were a mixed bag, as new recruits always are. Some were eager but reckless, driven by the need to prove themselves in ways that often landed them in trouble. Others were more cautious, unsure of their abilities and hesitant to take risks. And then there were those who chafed under authority, testing the limits of your patience. Each recruit brought their own challenges, and managing them required different approaches.

Conner handled the rebellious ones with his usual no-nonsense attitude. He didn't tolerate excuses or slacking, but he was also fair, quick to recognize hard work and improvement. His squad knew where they stood with him, and while his methods were sometimes intimidating, they were undeniably effective. You, on the other hand, excelled at breaking through the walls recruits often put up, finding ways to reach even the most difficult personalities. You had a knack for making them feel seen and valued, which often helped smooth over the rough edges.

You and Conner frequently swapped strategies, often during late-night conversations in the Cave or on rare quiet evenings at home. These moments were a reminder of how well you worked together, your different styles complementing rather than clashing. You didn't always agree—Conner's straightforward, discipline-focused approach sometimes clashed with your more empathetic methods—but your shared goal of keeping the team safe and prepared always brought you back to the same page.

Conner had just wrapped up one of the most grueling missions he'd faced in weeks, tracking Clayface through the rancid, labyrinthine sewers beneath Gotham City. The mission had been long, messy, and exhausting. With Nightwing leading the operation, the team had managed to corner and neutralize Clayface, but not without a few close calls—and plenty of exposure to Gotham's less-than-pleasant underbelly. By the time they returned to the Cave, the stench of sewage clung stubbornly to Conner, his clothes ruined and his mood sour.

After a quick debrief in the command center, Conner wasted no time heading to the showers. The hot water was a welcome relief, scalding away the grime and the memory of slogging through filth. He scrubbed at his skin with almost aggressive determination, muttering under his breath about how the smell refused to go away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he emerged clean and refreshed, droplets of water still clinging to his short hair and glistening on his skin.

He made his way to your shared room in the Cave, his fatigue weighing heavy on him. The door creaked open, and as he stepped inside, the sight before him made every ounce of stress from the day begin to fade. You were lounging on the bed, wearing one of his black T-shirts, the oversized fabric swallowing your frame and hanging down to your thighs. It was comically large on you, but that only made it more endearing. You sat cross-legged, utterly engrossed in the book resting in your lap, your brow furrowed slightly as you turned the page.

At the sound of the door opening, you looked up, your expression softening instantly into a warm, affectionate smile. "Hey," you said, your voice light and soothing, as though you'd been waiting for him all day.

A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of Conner's lips. "Hey," he replied, his voice still low and gravelly from exhaustion. Without a moment's hesitation, he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He didn't bother with words, didn't ask for permission—he simply made his way to you, resting his head on your stomach as he settled himself between your legs. His damp hair pressed against the fabric of the T-shirt you wore, the coolness of it a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin beneath. His strong arms slid around your waist, pulling you close as though anchoring himself to you.

You didn't need to ask what he needed. Over the years, you'd come to understand Conner's unspoken language. He wasn't one to articulate his emotions easily, but his actions said more than words ever could. The way his body relaxed against yours, the way his breath slowed, and the way his grip on your waist tightened slightly—it all told you exactly what he was seeking: comfort, grounding, and the peace that only you could provide.

Your hand moved instinctively to his hair, your fingers threading gently through the damp strands. You stroked with slow, deliberate motions, your touch light but firm, knowing how much he loved this simple gesture. Conner let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, the tension visibly melting from his body. His arms flexed briefly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, as though to ensure you wouldn't slip away.

"Tough mission?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued their soothing rhythm.

Conner hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he let himself relax fully against you. "Clayface. Sewers. You can probably imagine the rest," he muttered, his tone laced with weariness.

You chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating gently against his cheek where it rested on your stomach. "Yikes," you teased. "Bet that smelled like roses."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his dry humor peeking through despite his exhaustion. "Yeah, real refreshing," he murmured, his voice softer now. "Definitely one for the books."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came so naturally after years of being together. The sounds of the Cave—distant footsteps, the hum of machinery—faded into the background. You set your book aside, your attention fully on Conner now, your hand never ceasing its slow, comforting movements through his hair. His breathing grew steadier, his shoulders losing the last remnants of their tension as he melted into you completely.

The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you like a warm cocoon. Conner's grip on you was secure but gentle, his presence grounding you just as much as you grounded him. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him, his face peaceful and relaxed in a way that made your heart ache with love. These were the moments you cherished most—the quiet, unspoken ones where words weren't necessary, where just being together was enough to make the world feel right.

As the minutes stretched on, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering against his skin. Conner responded with a barely audible hum of contentment, his arms tightening briefly around your waist before relaxing again.

"You want a massage?" you asked softly, your fingers threading gently through Conner's damp hair. His head rested heavily on your stomach, his body fully relaxed against yours, and the rhythmic motion of your hand seemed to ease away the tension he carried after his grueling mission. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing steady, and for a moment, it seemed like he might drift off completely.

He didn't reply right away, as if weighing the question or simply savoring the comfort of the moment. Then, slowly, a familiar smirk crept onto his lips—the kind that sent a shiver of anticipation through you every time you saw it. His ocean-blue eyes fluttered open, the corners crinkling with mischief as he tilted his head slightly to look up at you.

"Nah," he murmured, his voice low and edged with a playful undertone that made your heart skip a beat. "But I do have another idea."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, though your pulse quickened at the teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what idea might that be, Mr. Kent?" you teased, your fingers momentarily pausing in his hair as you waited for his response.

Conner shifted lazily, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at you. His smirk widened as his gaze swept over you, taking in the sight of you curled up on the bed, still wearing his oversized black T-shirt that fell just above your thighs. The amusement in his expression was almost predatory, his eyes darkening slightly as they met yours.

He didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against your thigh in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through you. His fingertips lingered, tracing idle patterns on your skin, the touch both teasing and intimate.

"Well," he drawled at last, his voice dipping into that deep, gravelly tone that always made your stomach flutter. "I was thinking..." He trailed off, leaning in closer, his face just inches from yours now. The smirk softened into something more tender but no less dangerous as his hand slid up your leg, his palm coming to rest firmly on your hip. "Maybe we could do something a little... more fun."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation. "More fun?" you echoed, your hands instinctively moving to his shoulders, your fingertips grazing the solid warmth of his muscles beneath his shirt. "And what exactly do you have in mind, Conner?"

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He leaned in even closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Why don't I show you?" he murmured, the suggestion laced with affection as much as mischief.

Before you could respond, he moved with effortless strength, his arms tightening around you as he shifted your positions in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp as he flipped you onto your back, pinning you gently beneath him. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and the warmth of his body enveloped you as he braced himself above you.

His smirk was back, but there was a tenderness in his gaze now, a softness that made your breath catch. His hand remained on your hip, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of the shirt you wore—his shirt. "You've been taking care of me all night," he said softly, his voice quieter now, laced with gratitude and something deeper. "I think it's my turn to take care of you."

Your heart raced as his lips found yours, the kiss starting slow, almost reverent. His mouth moved against yours with a tenderness that sent warmth blooming through your chest, but it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. The passion that simmered beneath his calm exterior broke through, his lips pressing against yours more firmly, his hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back to pull you even closer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, still slightly damp from his shower, as you kissed him back with equal fervor. Every movement, every touch felt electric, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Conner's weight above you was grounding, his warmth seeping into you, his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon.

He broke the kiss just long enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came uneven. His eyes, now darker with emotion, held a mixture of love and desire that made your heart swell. "You're all I need," he whispered, the words so soft you almost didn't hear them over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat.

You smiled, your hands sliding down to his shoulders as you pulled him back down for another kiss. "Then don't let me go," you murmured against his lips, your voice just as quiet but filled with all the affection you felt.

Conner didn't reply with words—he didn't need to. The way his arms wrapped around you, the way his lips moved against yours, the way he held you as though you were the most precious thing in the world—it all spoke louder than anything he could have said. And in that moment, with the warmth of him pressed against you and the world fading into the background, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

His rough, calloused fingers slid beneath the hem of the oversized black shirt you wore—his shirt, which hung on your frame like a dress. The fabric bunched slightly as his hands traveled upward, the contrast of his warm touch against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

His movements were unhurried, almost teasing, as though he wanted to savor every moment. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity in his ocean-blue gaze making your breath hitch. When his fingers found the waistband of your underwear, he paused, his lips quirking into a playful smile as though silently asking for permission. The anticipation was electric, crackling in the air between you.

You nodded, barely able to contain the heat rising in your body. That was all the confirmation Conner needed. Slowly, he slid your underwear down, his fingers grazing your hips and thighs as he removed the final barrier between you. The sensation was maddeningly soft, yet charged with an undeniable intimacy that left you feeling completely exposed—and utterly desired.

As your underwear slipped away, Conner's hand trailed back up, his touch firm yet gentle as his fingers brushed against your dick. His palm enveloped you, his grip warm and steady, and the simple act sent a surge of pleasure coursing through you. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of you, learning the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw before murmuring in a low, husky tone, "You're perfect, you know that?"

The words made your pulse race, your heart pounding in your chest. Conner's gaze softened, though the intensity never wavered, and his hand moved with practiced care, each touch sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. There was something deeply intimate about the moment—more than just the physical connection, it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

The shirt you wore—his shirt—slipped further up as he moved, exposing more of you to him. His free hand slid around your waist, holding you in place, anchoring you to him as his movements became more deliberate. The warmth of his touch, the weight of his body pressing against yours, and the sheer love in his gaze all combined to create a moment that felt nothing short of breathtaking.

"Conner..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you felt yourself surrender completely to him. He smiled at the sound of your voice, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that was as passionate as it was tender.

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, sliding up and down your dick in a rhythm that was maddeningly precise, designed to make you unravel beneath his touch. The heat of his palm, the strength of his grip—firm but never rough—had your body responding instinctively, arching slightly into his hand as your breath hitched.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his deep voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that made your entire body tremble.

"You're so hard for me," he murmured, his words laced with a teasing edge that sent a flush of heat straight to your cheeks. His tone was rough, raw with desire, but there was also a playful affection in the way he spoke, like he loved seeing how easily you came undone in his hands.

"Look at you," he continued, his voice like velvet, each word dripping with intent. His grip tightened slightly as he stroked you, the added pressure drawing a quiet moan from your lips. "You're so perfect like this—so needy. You like when I touch you, don't you?"

Your heart raced, your breaths coming faster as his words hit you like a spark to kindling. Conner's hand never faltered, moving in a steady rhythm that left you teetering on the edge of control. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear before continuing, his voice filled with a delicious mixture of command and tenderness.

"Every inch of you belongs to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

His free hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him, as though he couldn't stand even a fraction of space between you. The heat of his body pressed against yours was overwhelming, and the way his words filled your ear—dirty, possessive, and utterly irresistible—made it impossible to focus on anything else.

"You're mine," he growled softly, the roughness in his voice sending another shiver down your spine. "And I'll make you feel so good you won't be able to think about anyone but me."

Every touch, every word, every deliberate stroke of his hand was a symphony of pleasure, building higher and higher until you felt like you might explode from the sheer intensity of it. Conner's lips brushed against your neck now, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he whispered one final promise, his hand moving just a little faster, driving you closer to the brink.

"Let go for me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of command and reassurance. "I want to feel you completely lose control—just for me."

And with that, the overwhelming combination of his touch, his words, and his presence pushed you over the edge, your body surrendering completely to the man who held you like you were his entire world.

The tension in your body built to an almost unbearable peak, every nerve alight as Conner's skilled hand continued its deliberate rhythm. His grip, his pace, the heat of his touch—it was all too much and not enough at the same time. Your breath quickened, a series of soft gasps and quiet moans escaping your lips as you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

Conner must have sensed it, because his lips found their way back to your ear, his voice a low, sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "That's it," he whispered, his tone both commanding and tender. "Don't hold back. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing. The tension coiled deep inside you snapped all at once, and you cried out softly, your body arching instinctively into his hand as you reached your climax. A rush of heat surged through you, and you felt yourself release, your hot seed spilling over his hand in a wave of pure, unrelenting ecstasy.

Conner didn't stop, his hand slowing just enough to draw out every last pulse of pleasure, his touch grounding you even as your mind reeled. His other arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer as your body trembled against his.

"That's it," he murmured again, his lips brushing against your neck now, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin. "You're so beautiful when you let go like that."

You couldn't form words, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you tried to steady yourself. Conner's touch became gentler, soothing now, his thumb brushing lightly along your hip as his free hand reached for a nearby cloth to clean you up. His movements were tender, his eyes filled with a quiet affection that made your chest ache.

As he finished, Conner leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours. The corners of his lips turned upward in a small, knowing smile, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

You nodded, still catching your breath, and managed a faint smile in return. "More than okay," you murmured, your voice laced with both exhaustion and contentment.

Conner chuckled, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. "Good," he said simply, his tone filled with quiet pride. "Because I'm not done spoiling you yet."

Suddenly, Conner had you straddling his waist, your thighs resting firmly on either side of his hips as his hands roamed over your body with an intensity that made your pulse race. His calloused palms gripped your ass firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a lingering warmth against your skin. The strength of his touch sent a shiver through you, a perfect mix of control and affection that made you feel completely consumed by him.

He shifted beneath you slightly, his muscles flexing under your weight as he adjusted your position to pull you even closer. His lips curled into a teasing smirk as his hands tightened on your backside, the possessiveness in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without warning, he raised one hand and brought it down with a sharp, deliberate smack against your ass.

The sudden sting was quickly followed by a rush of heat that spread through your body, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasped softly, the mixture of surprise and pleasure making your body instinctively arch toward him. Conner's smirk grew wider, his ocean-blue eyes darkening with desire as he watched your reaction closely.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a teasing edge that sent a thrill through you. Before you could respond, his hand came down again, another firm smack that made your skin tingle and your heart race. The way his strong hand lingered afterward, kneading the spot he had just struck, sent shivers down your spine.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as his other hand slid up your back, holding you steady. "You drive me crazy," he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with raw affection and desire. His breath was hot, his kisses deliberate as he nipped lightly at your neck before trailing his tongue along the sensitive area.

His hand on your ass delivered another firm smack, the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "I could do this all night," he muttered, his tone both playful and commanding as his lips moved back to claim yours in a kiss that was as consuming as it was passionate. His grip on you remained firm, his hands alternating between soothing caresses and sharp, tantalizing slaps that kept your body tingling with anticipation.

Every movement, every touch, every deliberate action reminded you just how deeply Conner desired you, his actions a perfect blend of strength, passion, and unwavering affection.

Your body pressed firmly against Conner's, your fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as his lips claimed yours with a fiery intensity. The kiss was deep and unrelenting, filled with passion that made the rest of the world fade into insignificance. Conner's hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you impossibly closer, as if the space between you was unacceptable.

A low moan escaped your lips, muffled against his, as the heat between you built to an overwhelming crescendo. You felt his lips curve into a small, satisfied smile against your mouth, his body reacting to every sound you made. Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, you tilted your head slightly to whisper in his ear, letting out another soft moan, the sound raw and unfiltered. His sharp intake of breath and the way his grip tightened on you told you exactly how much it affected him.

Just as Conner's lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving a path of slow, deliberate kisses, a loud knock echoed through the room, startling you both. The sound cut through the intimate atmosphere like a knife, and you felt Conner stiffen beneath you, his grip on your waist momentarily freezing.

A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he turned his head toward the door, his expression shifting into one of pure annoyance. Without letting go of you or breaking the connection between your bodies, he raised his voice, his tone sharp and commanding.

"Go away," Conner barked, the edge in his voice leaving no room for argument.

You couldn't help but smile at the irritation lacing his words, finding his reaction both protective and endearing. His attention shifted back to you almost instantly, his hands moving back to your hips as he resumed where he left off, his lips brushing against your neck now.

"They better not knock again," he muttered against your skin, his voice low and full of barely restrained frustration. The way his breath warmed your neck sent shivers down your spine, and the momentary interruption quickly melted away as Conner's focus returned entirely to you.

The knock may have broken the rhythm for a moment, but the intensity between you two reignited almost immediately, pulling you both back into the heat of the moment as if nothing had happened.

Conner's body was taut beneath you, every muscle coiled with tension as the heat between you both continued to build. His breaths came heavier, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, and you could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against you. His arousal was evident, firm and insistent, a clear sign of just how much he wanted you.

The way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, left no room for doubt. Conner's smirk turned devilish as he shifted slightly beneath you, making you acutely aware of the growing pressure. "You're killing me," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire, his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with a gaze that felt like it could set you on fire.

As you shifted in his lap, the friction only made the tension between you more palpable. His arousal strained against the fabric of his pajamas, firm and ready to break free from its confines. The way his body reacted to every subtle movement of yours sent shivers of anticipation through you, and the intensity in his expression made it clear he wasn't planning on holding back much longer.

His hands slid up your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing as his lips found their way to your neck once again. "You've got me ready to lose control," he whispered against your skin, his tone filled with equal parts affection and raw, unfiltered want. The promise in his voice was enough to make your heart race as you felt the full extent of his desire, firm and eager to join the moment.

Conner removed his hands from your body briefly, his gaze locked onto yours as he reached for the waistband of his pajamas. The tension in the air was almost palpable, each second feeling like an eternity as he slowly pushed both his pajamas and underwear down in one fluid motion. The fabric slid over his hips, revealing the taut, sculpted muscles of his lower body, every inch of his physique a testament to his raw strength.

And then, there it was—his dick sprang free, standing proudly, thick and fully erect. At nine inches, it was impossible to ignore, commanding attention with its sheer size and firmness. The sight alone sent a rush of heat through your body, making your breath catch in your throat. The way he exuded confidence, his body radiating a natural, effortless dominance, only added to the allure.

Conner's smirk widened slightly as he noticed your reaction, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and desire. He stepped closer, the tension in his movements now replaced with a sense of ease and purpose. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer as his body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin intoxicating.

"You've got me all worked up," he murmured, his deep voice low and teasing as his fingers brushed lightly against your sides. The weight of his dick against you was undeniable, a reminder of the intensity simmering between you two.

The moment was electric, the anticipation thick in the air and before you knew it, Conner's hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch grounding and steady as he positioned himself beneath you. The heat of his body pressed against yours, and his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Every movement he made was deliberate, filled with purpose, as if he wanted to savor every moment leading up to this.

His dick, thick and pulsing with anticipation, rested heavily against you. You could feel its heat, its weight, as he shifted slightly, aligning himself with your entrance. The sheer size of him made you gasp softly, your body trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. Conner's hands slid back up to your sides, his thumbs brushing soothing circles into your skin as he leaned in closer.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and full of reassurance. His lips found the curve of your jaw, pressing gentle kisses there as he adjusted his position. His dick pressed lightly against your ass now, the sensation sending a spark of heat through your body. The deliberate way he moved, slow and measured, showed how much care he was taking—not just to avoid rushing, but to ensure you were ready for him.

His gaze flicked back to yours, his blue eyes softened with affection but still darkened with desire. "Tell me if it's too much," he said softly, his hands tightening slightly on your hips as he aligned himself perfectly with your hole. The pressure was subtle at first, a promise of what was to come, but it was enough to make your breath hitch and your heart race.

Every touch, every movement felt charged with emotion as Conner held you steady, his body and his presence radiating both strength and tenderness. This was more than just physical—it was intimate, personal, a moment that seemed to transcend words as he prepared to join with you completely.

Your hands gripped Conner's strong shoulders for balance as you slowly began to move, your body adjusting to the fullness of him. The first motion was tentative, deliberate, as you raised yourself just slightly before sliding back down, taking him deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him stretching and filling you in a way that made your breath hitch and your heart race.

Conner's hands remained firm on your hips as he guided your movements with subtle pressure, his touch a blend of control and encouragement. His ocean-blue eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze filled with both awe and desire as he watched you take him, inch by inch. The way his chest rose and fell with deep, uneven breaths told you he was holding back, letting you set the pace.

As you moved again, the motion became smoother, more confident. Slowly, you began to find a rhythm, rising up and sliding back down, feeling every ridge and curve of him as you did. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through your body, building steadily with each motion. Conner's low groan rumbled through the air, his fingers digging into your hips just enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"You feel so good," Conner murmured, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion. His head tilted back slightly, exposing the strong line of his jaw, but his eyes never left you. His hands began to move with you, guiding your rhythm as you continued to ride him, the intensity between you growing with every passing moment.

The connection between you was electric, every touch, every motion building a tension that seemed to radiate through the room. Conner's quiet groans and whispered encouragements spurred you on, his voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace as you continued to move together in perfect harmony.

Soon Conner's fingers pressed into your skin just enough to ground you. You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, his need to guide you taking over as his hands began to set a rhythm, slowly increasing your pace.

"Let me take care of you," Conner murmured, his voice low and husky, filled with both affection and desire. His eyes met yours, their ocean-blue depths darkened with passion, and the look he gave you made your breath catch. His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he moved you, raising your body just enough before lowering you back down onto him, the deliberate motion making you take him deeper.

The change in pace was subtle at first, his guidance smooth and controlled, but you could feel his need building with each motion. His powerful hands worked in perfect synchronization with your body, lifting and guiding you to move faster, the rhythm between you becoming more intense. The sensation of him filling you completely, again and again, was almost overwhelming, pleasure radiating through you with every movement.

"You feel so damn good," Conner groaned, his voice roughened by the sheer intensity of the moment. His hands slid slightly up your waist, his thumbs brushing against your ribs as he continued to guide you, his strength making the faster pace feel effortless. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by his soft groans and your quiet moans, the connection between you electric and all-consuming.

As he urged you to go faster, his own hips began to rise slightly to meet your movements, the added force sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His head tilted back slightly, his lips parting as he let out a deep, guttural moan that made your heart race. His hands never faltered, holding you steady and ensuring every movement brought you both closer to the edge.

"Just like that," Conner whispered, his voice dripping with both encouragement and need. The rhythm between you built steadily, the intensity growing with every second as his hands guided you faster, harder, deeper. The room seemed to blur around you, leaving only the feeling of him beneath you, his touch on your skin, and the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you both.

Before you could fully register the shift, Conner's strong hands moved with purpose, gripping your hips as he adjusted his angle. In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, gently pushing you onto your back while still buried deep inside you. The sheer strength and control of his movements sent a shiver through your body, the sudden change in position amplifying the intensity of your connection.

Your back pressed against the mattress as Conner hovered over you, his broad shoulders and sculpted frame casting a shadow over you. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he repositioned himself, adjusting his angle with precision. His piercing blue eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze stealing your breath.

"Hold on to me," he murmured, his voice low and filled with both command and affection. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and without thinking, your hands found their way to his back, your fingers digging into his firm muscles.

Conner's hips began to move again, the deliberate thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, each motion hitting places that left you gasping. His pace was steady at first, a mix of controlled power and tenderness, as if he wanted to savor every moment of being this close to you. His gaze never wavered, watching your every reaction as if committing them to memory.

"Damn," he groaned, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid along your thighs, pulling you closer to him. His thrusts grew faster, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency as he surrendered to the intensity building between you. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by the deep, guttural groans that escaped his lips and the breathless moans spilling from yours.

His head dipped lower, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses to your heated skin. The combination of his movements and the sensation of his warm breath against your neck left you completely overwhelmed, your body arching beneath him in response. His hands slid up to your waist, holding you steady as his rhythm became more forceful, his need for you evident in every deliberate thrust.

Each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The room felt electric, every nerve in your body alight as he drove deeper into you, his hips moving with an unrelenting pace. Your breath hitched, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders for stability, but nothing could ground you against the overwhelming sensations.

"Conner..." you moaned, his name spilling from your lips without thought, raw and filled with the intensity of everything he was making you feel. Your voice trembled, the sound echoing in the heated air between you. The way his name left your lips seemed to spark something in him, his movements becoming even more deliberate, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

Hearing you call his name made Conner groan deeply, his breath warm and heavy as he leaned closer, his body pressing against yours. His blue eyes darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. "Say it again," he growled softly, his voice low and filled with a mix of command and need.

"Conner," you gasped again, louder this time, the sound unfiltered as the heat between you built to an almost unbearable peak. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer, his thrusts coming faster now, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your body arched beneath him, completely at his mercy as his name tumbled from your lips over and over, a desperate chant that only seemed to spur him on.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice thick and ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His pace quickened even more, his hips moving with a raw, unrelenting passion that left you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sounds of his groans, the slap of skin against skin, and your own voice calling his name filled the room, a symphony of unrestrained desire as he drove you both closer to the edge. Conner's strength, his control, and the sheer depth of his connection to you left you completely undone, your moans of his name the only thing you could manage as he pushed you to heights you'd never imagined.

The pleasure built inside you, overwhelming and unstoppable, as Conner's relentless pace drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your breath hitching sharply as you felt the rising heat coil deep within you, ready to burst. Each thrust sent another jolt of pleasure through you, the intensity mounting until you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a sharp cry of his name, you surrendered completely, your body arching against him as you released. A stream of your hot seed spilled out, the sensation crashing over you like a tidal wave. The release was overwhelming, leaving your mind blank and your body trembling in his grasp. Your nails dug into Conner's shoulders, your moans spilling freely from your lips as the waves of pleasure rippled through you, one after another.

Conner groaned deeply, his breath ragged as he held you steady, his strong hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. His eyes flickered down to take in the sight of you completely undone beneath him, your chest heaving, your cheeks flushed, and your release marking the moment with undeniable evidence of the connection you shared.

"You're so damn handsome," he murmured, his voice low and full of awe as his pace slowed slightly, letting you ride out the final tremors of your climax. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he continued to move within you, savoring the closeness and the heat radiating between your bodies.

The moment felt infinite, your body still trembling from the force of your release as Conner's steady presence anchored you. His lips brushed against your cheek, his hands gently caressing your sides as he whispered, "We're not done yet." The promise in his voice sent another shiver through you, and despite the blissful exhaustion settling in, you couldn't help but crave more.

Suddenly, Conner's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he buried himself deeper inside you. His thrusts became faster, harder, and more relentless, the sheer power behind them taking your breath away. It was as though he'd reached a breaking point, his self-control unraveling as he chased his own release with an intensity that left you completely at his mercy.

"God, you feel so good," Conner growled, his voice rough and strained, each word punctuated by the force of his movements. His head dipped down, his lips finding the crook of your neck as he kissed and nipped at your skin, his breath hot and uneven against you. The sounds he made—deep, guttural groans that seemed to come from deep within his chest—only added to the electricity crackling between you.

Your body rocked with every thrust, the sheer power of his movements sending waves of pleasure coursing through you all over again. His pace was unrelenting, his hips snapping forward as he lost himself completely in the moment, his need for you driving him into overdrive. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of your bodies moving together, accompanied by his moans and your breathless gasps, the air thick with heat and passion.

Conner's grip on you became almost desperate as his pace quickened even more, his thrusts deep and hard, pushing both of you to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled beneath your hands as he reached his limit. His breath came in ragged gasps, his groans growing louder and more primal with each thrust.

"Can't hold it anymore," Conner growled, his voice rough and raw as he thrust into you one final time, burying himself as deeply as he could. His body tensed, and with a low, guttural moan, he released, a hot surge of his seed spilling inside you. The heat of it sent a shiver through your body, the sensation overwhelming as you felt every pulse of his release.

Conner stayed buried inside you, his body trembling slightly as he let out a long, shuddering breath. His arms slid around you, pulling you close as he rested his forehead against yours, his ocean-blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a quiet reverence as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His hands moved to caress your sides, his touch soothing as you both basked in the afterglow, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and utterly content in each other's arms.

After a moment of stillness, Conner let out a deep, contented sigh and slowly pulled out of you, his movements gentle and careful. The absence of him left a mix of relief and longing, but his warm presence remained as he immediately shifted closer, wrapping his strong arms around you. The weight of his body against yours and the soothing rhythm of his breathing anchored you in the moment, bringing a quiet sense of comfort and safety.

He pulled the blanket over the both of you, tucking it snugly around your shoulders as you nestled into his chest. His fingers traced idle patterns along your back, a tender gesture that made your body relax further into his embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, combined with the warmth of his skin, lulled you into a state of pure tranquility. Your eyes grew heavier, the exhaustion from the intensity of the moment pulling you closer to sleep.

Just as your breaths started to slow, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock at the door. The sound startled you awake, and you felt Conner stiffen beside you, his body instantly alert. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, and without a word, he reached for the blanket, pulling it up to cover you completely before sliding out of bed.

"Stay here," he murmured softly, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. He grabbed his boxers from the floor, slipping them on with practiced ease before making his way to the door. His movements were fluid but purposeful, his broad shoulders and muscular frame silhouetted in the dim light as he approached.

Conner placed a hand on the doorknob, pausing for a brief moment to glance back at you. His expression softened when he saw you peeking out from beneath the covers, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the door.

Conner cracked the door open just enough to see who was on the other side, his body positioned to block the view of the room. When he saw M'gann standing there, her expression bright and hopeful, he let out a quiet sigh, his irritation easing into polite patience.

"Conner," M'gann said, her tone light and cheerful as she leaned slightly into the doorway. "We're all about to sit down for dinner. I thought maybe you'd want to join us?"

Conner glanced back toward the bed for a brief moment, his protective instincts kicking in as he ensured you were still tucked away and comfortable. Then, turning back to M'gann, he gave her a polite but firm smile. "Thanks, M'gann, but I'm going to pass tonight," he said, his voice calm and even. "I've already got plans."

M'gann's expression faltered slightly, the smile on her face tightening for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. "Oh... okay," she said, trying to keep her tone casual. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, maybe," Conner replied, his tone kind but noncommittal as he gently closed the door. He stood there for a moment, letting out a small sigh before turning back toward you, his expression softening the instant his gaze landed on you.

Sliding back under the covers, Conner wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close against his chest. "Sorry about that," he muttered, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Now, where were we?"

You smiled sleepily, your head resting against his chest as you let the warmth of his embrace pull you back into the peaceful haze of sleep. "Right here," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Conner chuckled lightly, his grip on you tightening just enough to remind you that you were safe and loved. "Exactly," he said, his tone filled with quiet affection. "Just us. Always." And with that, the world faded away again, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms as you drifted back into sleep.

[leonastarry]

{ 2 } Fall in love at first sight. ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x fem!baker!reader

☆ The wind blew gently like a joke, as Jinwoo waited with a slightly discouraged heart in front of the long line of people, waiting for the moss green door to open. It was a bit chilly. This kind of weather made people just want to stay home and lie under a warm blanket, not doing anything. But here he was, waiting for the minute hand of the clock to move to eight and then the owner would flip the CLOSED sign on the glass wall to OPEN, and then, the moss green door would open to let the scent of hot baked goods, even more alluring than the scent of Dior perfume, waft out, making the hungry stomachs under the Seoul sky growl in unison.

☆ He originally didn’t plan on going out today, even though he could withstand the cold thanks to his strong S-rank body, he still didn’t want to go out. But early this morning, his sister Jinah nagged and demanded that he go buy some pastries from a newly opened bakery called Dream. As the best brother in the world, he had no choice but to do as his beloved sister said.

☆ 'A chocolate cake with cream and blueberry jam with strawberries on top.' Jinwoo thought back to the reminder of the cake his sister wanted and sighed. It was still not opening time, he felt a little impatient, he just wanted to buy it quickly and go home. 'Open up, this damn cake shop.'

☆ And, as if to challenge, or tease, the minute hand still slowly moved little by little. The three minutes to reach the threshold seemed as long as a century had passed. Then, at the moment the shopkeeper, who was filled with the smell of cake filling, opened the narrow door, a stream of hungry people immediately rushed into the bakery.

☆ When Jinwoo saw you - the owner of Dream, he knew he is falling in love.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

☆ Since then, whenever he could, he would stop by your bakery and buy some kind of cake. He did so just so he could meet and talk to his lovely bakery owner. And gradually, the two of you became close.

☆ At first, you thought Jinwoo was a model, you meant everything that went into that beautiful figure. Why hadn't the fashion or perfume brands found him yet? That was what you kept wondering, even though he ate more than a model's portion, and that was why he was normal. Or, maybe not normal, not really. Those who were interested in hunters would have recognized Jinwoo immediately, but you were different. You spent most of your time baking. You only happened to watch the news while cleaning up to close the door, and Jinwoo's handsome face was featured in an interview. So when you found out he was an S-rank hunter, you were impressed.

☆ You wonder what makes a notorious and busy hunter like him come to your bakery every day. And when you ask him, he just replies that he really likes the cakes you make. But gradually, you start to guess why. In fact, it’s pretty obvious. But gradually, you start to guess why. In fact, it’s pretty obvious. You notice that every time you look at him, you see him staring at you with a gentle smile, eyes full of admiration. Or you notice that he always cares about you and always finds an opportunity to touch you. All of these things make it impossible for you not to think he likes you.

☆ But if you say you don't have feelings for him, you'd be lying. The way he treats you is different from how he treats others, it makes you feel special. The way he always smiles at you softly and is always so thoughtful makes you feel warm. And that beautiful face and body, how can you resist his charm?

☆ With all that in mind, you decide to confess to him.

  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

☆ As usual, Jinwoo came to your bakery at 4pm. You brought out a cake box tied with a gray ribbon – the color of Jinwoo’s eyes. Jinwoo opened the box, and was surprised to see a cake that looked like a work of art. The cake was decorated with a heart made of powdered sugar, and in the middle of the heart was a small message: “Will you share the sweet days with me from now on?”

☆ Jinwoo looked up, his eyes sparkling with emotion. You stood before him, your hands still covered in flour, your face red with embarrassment. “I’m not good at talking…” You stuttered, “but I want to say I love you and I want to make you-”

☆ Before you could finish your sentence, he immediately hugged you and kissed you passionately on the lips. You were surprised but quickly closed your eyes and melted into the kiss. The two of you kissed for a while before Jinwoo pulled away, his lips still very close to yours. He looked into your eyes, you can see the happiness in his grey orbs.

"I love you too, [name]."

  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I wrote half of it and then I ran out of ideas :V.

So the ending seems a bit deadpan ._.

[iichfilwypj]

loml | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson and mortal! reader (both are 27 yo!!) ღ warnings: angst, very very sad, mentions of blood and injuries (past) ღ wc: 1.429

The park was ideal to visit at that time; the sun would set, bathing the sky in a stunning orange glow, and most of the little ones had gone home, leaving a serene quietness in the park. The dogs were already resting in the shade of the trees, and the air felt much softer.

Indeed, at that time, the park felt enveloped in calm, making it the perfect place to enjoy her small haven. She could settle into her regular bench, beyond the reach of noise and people, and concentrate on her work as the peaceful atmosphere intertwined with her thoughts.

While she listened to music and focused on the paper, a faint little voice emerged around her, barely noticeable at first. She thought she might be delirious, too weary to trust her senses completely; but then, a gentle touch came, as if a tiny hand had softly landed on her leg.

Her sight fell immediately, and there, in front of her, was a little girl.

The vision brought an instant smile to her face; the little girl was the sort of child you might believe to be an angel in disguise if you looked closely. 

Her hair was blonde and curly, with a nearly platinum shine. Her cheeks were delicately flushed, as if she had just been running in the park, and her large, radiant eyes stared at her with an innocent intensity, so big they seemed to take over her entire face.

Green.

Her eyes were green.

They reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t remember who.

Just as she was about to speak, to ask the little girl where her parents were or what she was doing there, the child surprised her by sitting down beside her, her curious eyes scanning the papers.

“Are you reading? My mom loves reading a lot” 

The words hovered in the air, and for a moment, she simply looked at her. as if her words carried a quiet wisdom, a familiarity she couldn’t ignore, an echo in her mind that she couldn’t quite place.

Even though she tried to, something changed when a third voice joined the conversation. In that instant, something in her chest tightened, and it was as if the very air had changed in texture.

She recalled exactly who those green eyes belonged to.

Percy Jackson.

He was running toward her, a look of relief on his face as he fixed his gaze on the little girl. He was wearing a hand-knitted blue scarf, a hat in the same color, and a dark jacket.

His hair was as dark and messy as when she used to run her fingers through it, his hands still fiddling with his fingers—though at one point, those fingers had been hers—, and from a distance, she could scent the ocean that always seemed to follow him.

And his eyes.

His eyes were still just as green as before.

Her mind was paralyzed, and her body felt strangely both cold and hot. She clenched her hands, sure that if the pencil had been between her fingers, it would have bent, but it was already lying on the floor.

“Sweetie, hi,” Percy walked up to her without even glancing in her direction, his eyes fixed on the little one. He gently took the child's face in his hands, sighing and pressing a kiss on her cold forehead. “You slipped away in a second, didn’t you?”

“Dad, she likes reading! Just like mommy” 

And as the child pointed at her, she wished she could vanish. Run off, without saying a word, without providing any explanations.

He had done it once, so why couldn’t she?

“Really, wow—”

And just then, she knew he had recognized her. 

She could tell by the way his eyebrows bent, by how his eyes opened slightly, by the way his cheeks went pale. By the way his lips curled into a pout.

“Hi, Percy,” she said, voice low and quiet.

“You remember me?” 

Of course she would remember. The memories hit her all at once, like lost bullets, like something that had been trapped for so long it broke free with all the power it could find.

She felt as if someone had stepped into her heart, uncovering in seconds what she had desperately tried to keep sealed under lock.

And that lock she believed to be shut found its key; the same key that had locked it years ago.

“Hi, I—I don’t know what to say.” He was speechless, what do you say to someone after 10 years?

The situation had stolen his words. His lips trembled with words kept for years, with explanations hidden away, with thighs he had felt. The truth, why that had been his only choice at the time, and how much he regretted it now.

“Who’s this sweet girl?” She decided to ask, leaving her stuff besides her and standing up briskly. The small child answered timidly, her cheeks warmed by the adult’s caresses, yet she broke into a wide smile. 

“She’s my daughter, uhm—Why don’t you go find mommy? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

And as the child walked off, the silence became unbearable.

“I married Annabeth,” Percy said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

He didn’t dare look at her, his gaze locked on his shoes, as if the weight of his confession was too much to face.

“Congratulations?” She replied, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her tone was sharp, but the faint quiver in her voice betrayed her. She took a step back, shaking her head as if trying to process what he’d just said. “Percy, I should—” 

“I’m sorry, for everything.” He interrupted, finally looking up at her. His eyes shimmered with a guilt that made her stomach churn, that made her want to vomit.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” She snapped. “That’s supposed to fix it, right? All the tears, the therapy, the fear I felt without you?” 

Her breath was ragged, the anger and hurt bleeding into every syllable. 

“Do you know what it felt to wake up alone? To wake up terrified, expecting to see the love of your life beside you after almost dying, and find nothing but a letter? You said you’d never leave!”

The words hit him harder than any punch.

But it wasn’t fair. 

She wasn’t the only one who remembered. 

He remembered it all too well.

Carrying the girl to his room, her blood soaking his blue sheets. 

Gripping her hand tightly, repeating over and over that everything would be okay, when he wasn’t sure it would; when all he could do was pray for a miracle.

Her desperate screams, begging for everything to stop.

Her life slipping through his fingers, pulling his own life along with it.

She wasn’t meant for that world, for the God's sick kingdom. How could he let her get hurt again? 

“You almost died!” he said.

“No, I died the day you left!” she shouted, the weight of her anger pushing her forward. “I just needed you!”

Percy stood silent, the weight of guilt now completely suffocating him, as it hit him like a wave sweeping away any defense he might have had and leaving him exposed before the woman he had once loved and lost.

“Percy, I honestly didn’t want to see you again,” She grabbed her bag and turned toward Percy, tears in her eyes. “But this might be the last time I look at your face. I don’t know what’s happened in your life these years, I hope you’re okay. I can only wish that you’re happy, that letting go of me was worth it.”

She paused, a lump forming in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

Percy’s heart beat erratically, each beat feeling like a hammer. He opened his mouth again, but his voice was caught, the silence between them more deafening than any words could be. 

“I forgive you, truly. Because when you left me, you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known, and that will be enough for me to rest in peace.” Her voice was quieter now, almost to a whisper. She took just one step closer, almost felling his body heat.

But all she wanted to do now was get away form it.

“Do you remember how we used to talk about getting married? Picking out names for our future children? Daydreaming about houses on family trips, like two naive sixteen-year-olds who thought growing up was all that mattered? Maybe we could’ve had it all.”

He winced, his expression contorting while those memories consumed him.

“But because of you, we’ll never know. Maybe in another life, but not in this one.”

Percy’s eyes filled with unshed tears, his throat tight, but he still didn’t speak. He stood there, watching her as she slowly turned away, feeling the space between them grow, the years of loss and pain stretching wide.

Watching the love of his life walk away. 

But then something seemed to stop her. She paused for a second, glancing back over her shoulder at Percy, her face softening as she hesitated.

“What’s your daughter's name?” She could feel Percy frozen, his breath catching. 

And when she heard her own name leave his lips, she had no trouble accepting what was lost, what once was and would never be again. 

She looked one last time at the loss of her life.

maybe i am overreacting but i wrote this with a pout on my face!! this is based on all to well and loml!

[thanosscross]

My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader part 2

Summary: After months of not seeing your best friend, you finally reconnect, only to find out what he truly thinks about himself and the two of you, resulting in a brokenheart, and a new relationship

Warnings: none really, Seung Hyun having a slight panic attack

As you wrapped up filming for squid games, you were very quickly thrown back into the tour lifestyle, Bouncing from country to country, you couldn't shake the sadness of missing your friend though. As you got ready for your next music video shoot you took a nervous breath, you had sent an invite to Seung Hyun to come shoot on your video with you, using the excuse that you work well together acting, but he never replied. So you nervously waited, having a back-up actor if needed, but you specifically wrote this song about Seung Hyun, so it only felt right to get the chemistry behind the song right.

As you stepped on set you took one last glance around, all you could see was the empty warehouse set filled with props and crew, but Seung Hyun was nowhere to be seen, sighing sadly you checked your phone one last time, seeing nothing almost brought tears to your eyes, had he not meant what he said? Yea it had been a few months, but he did promise you..right?

As you started to film some of your solo scenes, you manager rushed over with a smile "Y/n! Y/n! Turn that frown around, baby! Your guy called, he's on his way, just stuck in traffic!" He cheered, you face immediately lit up, smiling excitedly and jumping up and down "Really!? Really!? He said he'd do it?" You gasped grabbing his arms "Yes! Yes! He did!" He smiled, he knew your situation, he had to hear about Choi Seung Hyun constantly, he tried to warn you it might not be the best for your image, but you quickly snapped at him going off about needing to get over things, your manager knew you since you were young, barely 17 whenever he signed you on, now you were nearing your thirties, your twenty eighth birthday approaching quickly, so seeing you this excited over a boy was something entirely different.

Unknown to you, Seung Hyun had ditched his taxi long ago, he was close enough to be able to make it running, traffic was picking up anyways. As he ran up onto your set he saw you standing off to the side, waiting while looking around occasionally "Seung Hyun!" You shouted seeing him, throwing your jacket down to sprint to him, as soon as you were close enough, Seung Hyun immediately lifted you into the air spinning you around in a hug, squeezing you tightly "Hey! Hey! Careful! Don't hurt her!" Your manager shouted in a panic "Don't worry about him, he just doesn't want anything messed up for my show" You giggled looking down to your friend, your heart racing feeling yourself being that close to him again. "So are you really gonna do the video with me?" You asked excited, Seung Hyun nervously smiled "Ya know..I don't know...I want to..but I don't want to ruin your image and stuff..." He mumbled, you frowned, you knew he was still ashamed of what happened and how badly everybody reacted, it hit him hard and it was always worried about how it'd effect the people around him "Seung Hyun! I don't care about that! You are my best friend! I want you to be the part so who cares!" You argued cupping his cheeks, Seung Hyun couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks feeling your hands being so intimate than you had ever been with him.

"I guess..If you're sure.." He mumbled "I'm so sure! If anybody has anything to say I'll give them a piece of my mind!" You huffed grabbing his hand marching towards set, he gave your manager a look raising his eyebrows, your manager just nodded mouthing the words 'every time'. Filming was something neither of you expected, as your manager and director worked together to get everything right, going through the lyrics it started to make you realize things a lot more clear. You loved Sueng Hyun, more than best friends. Seung Hyun felt panicky, having to be so intimate with you was getting him flustered and it was all going on camera, for you to see later and see.

After you filmed a scene of Seung Hyun following you through an empty street in town, he took a moment to stop and breath, lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves, but there you were, looking at him with that adorable puppy look. "Are you okay?.." You asked softly, going to rest your hand on his arm but he just shrugged away, he couldn't help it, your touch was making him feel hot, like it was burning him, and he was now becoming very conscious of his t-shirt and all of the hate he used to get before he closed it all out. "I-Im sorry I-I just-" You stopped him from speaking, noticing his shaky hands and the tears falling from his eyes as he slowly slid down the brick wall trying to keep his breathing calm, but the panic attack was already settling in. You immediately kneeled next to him, slowly taking the cigarette from his hand, not wanting to see him accidentally burn himself, as you tried to sit next to him he tried to lift you up to your feet "T-T-that ground i-is disgusting" He whimpered, your heart broke a little bit, he was more worried about you sitting down he didn't realize he was sitting down himself "It is..so why don't..we go over there..and sit on that bench?" You asked, taking his hand in yours, still holding his cigarette in the other, guiding him slowly to the bench as he tried to calm himself down, feeling like an idiot for getting like this around you, but like the sweetheart you were, you still took care of him, not even knowing the reason why he was freaking out.

"Seung Hyun..." You called sweetly, cupping his cheek with your free hand "Honey..take a deep breath for me, what's going on?" You asked, Seung Hyun followed your instructions, not realizing he was holding your wrist gently, caressing his thumb over it. "If I ask something...Will you be honest, Y/n?" He asked shakily, his leg bouncing as he looked around, taking the hint you took the cigarette placing it to his lips gently "I don't want you to drop it..but of course" You whispered, you weren't concerned that you were acting more like a wife or girlfriend than friend currently, you were more concerned with making sure Seung Hyun was okay. "Is this..about us?..is that why you wanted me to be here so badly?" He asked, inhaling before exhaling, lifting your head up gently as he blew the smoke to the side so he wasn't getting it in your face. "When I'm with you..things feel different..like..stronger with you..I'm happier, sadder, angrier, everything when it comes to you" You explained sheepishly, going to pull your hand away from his cheek, but he stopped you, instead moving your hand to his lap to interlace your fingers as you spoke, the same thing he did anytime you'd get teary eyed opening up to him during your guys's filming for squid games "I-I didn't understand it..until I saw you again, and I felt like I never wanted you to leave like that again" You whispered looking away from him "I-It was hard..really hard..and barely being able to speak to each other, made it harder.." You whimpered, biting your lip to keep yourself from crying.

"Are you sure we're not just..close friends?" He asked, not wanting you to jump into something you didn't want, you didn't take it as that, you took it as he only saw you as that, close friends. "Y-Yea you're..you're right" You sniffled, taking a deep breath putting on your best show face to hide the plain hurt on your face "Ready to finish up?" You asked, Seung Hyun frowned, knowing he upset you, he just silently followed behind.

Whenever you finished up filming, you rushed towards your small makeup trailer, just needing a moment, Seung Hyun was stuck off to the side, frustrated with himself "Seung Hyun, yes?" Your manager asked approaching him "U-uh yes yes that's me" He confirmed, your manager sighed "Listen, I don't mean to make things..awkward..between you two, but in the ten years I've known that girl, she's never talked about another man or woman like she has you, Mr. Choi, she's one of your biggest fighters, even before she got back from that tv show filming. Meeting you gave her the drive and motivation to work and write again, she's produced an entire album! In a month! So whatever happened earlier between you two..You better not ruin my girl, she's special, not another one like her, until you make a comeback" He explained before nodding over to the trailer "Fix it. Not my broken mess, not my problem to fix" He demanded, Seung felt offended by that, this man seemed to care about you, and yet here he was calling you a broken mess? "Y/n is far from a broken mess, she's single handedly the most independent strong hard headed woman I've ever met, not to mention the most thoughtful selfless and beautiful! Any guy would be lucky to manage her! Or even have her in their life!" He shouted, your manager just kept an eyebrow cocked at him as he shouted, never noticing you slowly making your way out of the trailer "So why don't you tell her that!? Instead of messing with her head for months!?" Your manager shouted back "Because I'm not good enough for her! And because of who I am I never will be!" He shouted back, trying to control himself and not storm off, every bit of anger washing away whenever he was met with your terrified gaze, even when filming while screaming in your face, you never looked scared of him, but in this moment, you looked truly terrified.

Tears brimmed your eyes, hearing what both men said was like a knife stabbing you to the heart, you stormed past, not wanting to see either of them in the moment, heading back to your tour bus. Your chest hurt, it felt heavy but like it was hot at the same time, as soon as you got the bunks of your bus you let yourself cry for the first time since Seung Hyun first left, never noticing the bus door shutting and closing.

"Jagi" Seung Hyun whispered sadly, kneeling next to you as he tried to get him to look at you "Honey, You are not a hot mess" He whispered, you just glared at him "How could you say that about yourself? I opened up about my worst mistake..and you still think you're not good enough?" You whimpered "Y-You're crying because of what..I said about myself?" He asked confused, tilting his head as you shoved him slightly "Yes! I care about you! And it makes me sad hearing you think that" You argued shoving him again "I love you, you asshole! And you're too blind to see you're perfect!" You added on before realizing what you were saying, Seung Hyun's face changed as you spoke, you just glared at him, trying your best to cry anymore but his words just echoed in your head forcing you to lose your battle 'because of who I am I will never be good enough'.

"Jagi, please don't cry" Seung Hyun begged, cupping your cheeks, desperately wanting to see your smile like before, he tried his best to keep his mind from spiraling "I just...I care about you a lot, and it hurts so bad hearing you talk about yourself like that, Seung Hyun, you are good enough for anything you want to be good enough at, because of who you are" You corrected his statement from earlier, now it was his turn to get teary eyed, trying to ignore and hide it he just hugged you tightly "I love you" He whispered as he rested his head against yours, if it weren't for the hairdo they had you do for the last scene you would've never felt his tears "As a friend?.." You asked pulling away to look at him, using your thumbs to wipe his eyes and cheeks gently "I don't..I don't know..but I want to" He whispered, cupping your cheeks before kissing you softly, you happily kissing him back, running your hands through his hair as he gently bit your bottom lip before pulling away "So..does this mean.." You whispered, looking up to him hopefully "Maybe so..I don't know" He smirked, quoting part of the chorus of your song, you giggled blushing hiding your face in his chest.

--

Part three my lovelies?

[venomous-ragno]

A soulmate AU fic with Ghost/Soap/GN!Reader where their first word is tattooed on you. Also "What kinda name is Ghost and Soap? Sounds like a Men's 11 in 1 body wash together" or something along the lines (Don't feel pressured to write this! If you don't like the premise you can just ignore this ❤❤❤)

Hello dear! I now how old this request is, and I'm sure you've either forgotten about it or given up on it.

I'm sorry it took me so long, but I had a day ofd today and checked up on this blog; your soulmate request simply sparked smth and I had to write it. Soulmate au's are one of my favourites!

Tbf, I haven't written in a long while, so I'm a bit insecure about this one despite spending all day on it. Hope y'all like this one still :)

It was ridiculous. It was surreal. It was a body wash advertisement, come to life. And somehow, despite everything, it felt perfectly, undeniably right.

Back then it had sounded like a magic trick, something that belonged in a fairy tale. You'd spent hours trying to figure out who Ghost was. Maybe that one weird kid from school? Or a character in a book you hadn’t gotten to yet? You had no idea.

There had been a point in time where you would've killed to know this "Ghost". A character made up of theories, hopes and your boundless imagination - all of it so alien you lay awake at night, caught between fiction and reality. Warmth spread from that name. Oh, how it'd keep your mind running as your fingers brushed over those letters. Careful, like a porcelain vase, too precious to even touch.

It'd have you giggle and sigh at the type of person behind these rough, uneven edges. How long would it take for them to show themself to you? Perhaps you were naive to believe it'd be soon.

The years passed, and the mystery of Ghost remained.

The second word, "Soap," arrived when you had already given up on ever finding this Ghost, nestled just above your ankle. This time, you were about to board a flight to Mexico, announcements blasting left and right, people hurrying all over the place. You noticed it almost immediately. It was a different font and unlike the first name, rather cartoonish. You stared at it, a weird mix of excitement and utter bafflement swirling in your gut. The flight attendant called out your flight number, but your thoughts drowned it out; Ghost and Soap? You thought, what kinda names are those? Sounds like a Men’s 11 in 1 body wash together!

Your friends had found it hilarious, of course. They’d joked about meeting Mr. Ghastly-Clean and Mr. Sudsy-Lad, and promised to buy you a "Ghost and Soap" bath bomb for your birthday. You’d laughed along, but a strange feeling had started to settle in you, a yearning that you couldn't quite explain. That book you'd brought along to your eleven hour long flight lay long forgotten at the bottom of your carry-on.

You were no mere teen anymore. Now you were a journalist and war photographer, intent on finding your oen truth. The chaotic energy of a battlefield somehow soothed the constant itch of the two names etched on your skin. You'd met lots of people, exchanged thousands of words, but none had felt like they belonged with Ghost and Soap. For all your eloquence, nothing could put those feelings into words. Again those voices of loved ones telling you to let go, to search harder, to do this and that. What did they knew though? What did they expect to happen, miracles?

One particularly hectic night, you were in need of one such miracle. Your ever so feverent pursuit of the truth brought quite a bit of danger along; nothing you couldn't handle, picked up a few tricks on your travels here and there. Yet this... Was much too big for any of this. There was no article to be written and no photo to be taken when sirens wailed like banshees and grey smoke drove tears into your eyes.

The city was a symphony once. A vibrant, chaotic melody of honking cars, chattering crowds, and the rhythmic clang of street vendors. Now, it was a dissonant cacophony of explosions, the sharp crack of gunfire, and the terrified cries of the few souls still daring to breathe. You? You found yourself swallowed whole by this chaos, a lone note desperately trying to find its escape in the maelstrom.

A child cried, another salve of shots silenced the sound.

Silence was eerie. Silence was deadly.

Mouth dry and nose covered, you fought against the fear that tried to take over; the adrenaline, the stomping beats of your own heart. Too heavy and too sudden was the attack. The soldier that was assigned as your bodyguard just yesterday... You'd swallowed hard when he made you promise to save yourself.

Every little sound had you stop and check corners. A wheezing breeze? Scratching along cement? Some stray cats meow nearly caused you a heart attack.

Just gotta keep moving forward, you reminded yourself, just gotta-

Breathless coughs, two. Some low murmurs. Swearing if you'd heard right. One of the guerilla fighters?

As if moving in slow motion you peaked aroung the corner. Eyes checking every centimeter of a half lit allyway-

Your eyes met his.

Heaven and hell would laugh at you for dying like this. Covered in dirt and blood, lost in a war zone of your own fault. If only you'd listened to your mother telling you to stop being so goddamn curious.

He flinched slightly, then coughed, his voice raspy but with a hint of a playful lilt. “Well, hello there.”

That doesn't sound like someone trying to kill you.

"I see you. Why don't ye come out? Am wounded anyway, won't be able to kill ye even if I wanted to."

Your brain protested. This could be a tactic. Lure you out of hiding and into the light, makes it easier to kill you.

But you moved still.

"Come on closer, will ye?"

Eyes stayed fixated on yours like a trance.

His jaw tightened when you finally knelt beside him. Only now did you notice the blood seeping through his black shirt, streaming down a toned biceps like small rivers.

"You don't look like a guerilla fighter."

He chuckled. "Ye don't look like one to me either. Can't hurt be careful though." The blade in his hand reflected the moonlight.

You froze, your eyes snapping to his. His lips quirked into a small smile, but it faded slightly as he noticed your expression.

"Everything okay?" He asked, his voice a low murmur.

"Soap. You're Soap. The Soap."

Soap's eyes widened... As if he recognised you.

The cold metal pressed to the back of your skull, a chilling whisper against the warmth of your skin. The soldier’s breath, ragged and harsh, fanned the hairs at your nape. You could feel the tremor in his hand, the desperate tension that vibrated through him, yet beneath it all, a resolve as solid as the steel he wielded.

"Step away from my partner."

The words, simple enough, landed with the force of a physical blow. They weren't a plea, or a desperate yell. They were a command, delivered with an authority that sent a shiver down your spine. You had never heard this voice before, but instantly, it felt so right. Like the missing piece you hadn't even known you were searching for.

The chaos of the savaged city faded into the background. All that existed was the look in their eyes, the names on your skin, and that strange, overwhelming feeling of finally coming home. Even if your soulmates smelled of sweat and gunpowder rather than roses and honey.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Dazai x Reader

How does it feel to be mine?

You’re trapped by the one and only Dazai Osamu.

Betrayal stung worse than the cold metal of the chains binding your wrists. After years of working beside him, trusting him, caring for him, this was your reward: locked in a damp, dimly lit cell like some disposable tool.

“There she is, boss.”

Boss? The word twisted in your mind like a knife. What had he been doing all this time, working behind Fukuzawa’s back? You had always known Dazai was dangerous, a man of contradictions, but you never thought he’d go this far.

Dazai stepped forward, his usual smirk plastered across his face, but his eyes betrayed something deeper. Something darker.

“How does it feel, Y/N?”

“About what?” you snapped, hating the tremor in your voice.

“Now, now, watch your attitude,” he said, crouching down to your level. His face was too close, his presence suffocating. Your instincts screamed to fight, but the chains made escape impossible.

“I only treat you like this because you’re still valuable,” he said, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. “You know, they paid a high price.”

“Who?”

“Secret~” he chimed, that infuriating playfulness slipping into his tone.

You glared at him, swallowing your fear. If only your ability wasn’t suppressed. If only you weren’t at his mercy.

Dazai tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze. His touch was light, almost gentle, but it sent a chill down your spine.

“You don’t seem like the type to sell people off when they’re ‘useless,’” you said, your voice dripping with mockery.

His smirk faltered.

“You’ve never seen the real me,” he replied coldly.

Dazai waved a hand, dismissing the guards. The heavy door slammed shut, leaving just the two of you in the suffocating silence. He sank to the ground beside you, uncomfortably close.

“Now it’s just us.” he murmured, his tone dropping to something low and intimate.

Then he pulled out a small vial of amber liquid, swirling it lazily in his hand.

“Do you know what this is?”

You stared at it warily.

“No? Hmm… You’ll like it, though.”

Before you could respond, he uncorked the vial and tilted it to your lips. You turned your head away, but he caught your jaw in his hand, forcing you to drink. The liquid burned as it slid down your throat, but almost immediately, a warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading through your limbs.

Your breathing quickened as heat pooled in your stomach, and your thoughts grew hazy.

“What did you…?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac,” he said matter-of-factly, setting the empty vial aside. “I thought it might make this easier for you. Or at least, harder to hate me.”

You stared at him, stunned, as the warmth intensified, making your body betray you.

“Why are you doing this?” you managed, your voice trembling.

Dazai leaned back, his gaze softening in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Why?” He chuckled bitterly. “Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to let you go.”

Your breath hitched.

“I didn’t kidnap you to sell you, or to hurt you,” he continued. “I brought you here because… you’re the only one who makes this godforsaken life worth living.”

“Then why all this?” you snapped, your voice breaking. “The chains, the guards, the drugs?”

“Because you wouldn’t stay willingly,” he said simply, his expression darkening. “You’d leave. Just like everyone else.”

His words hung in the air like a confession, raw and devastating.

“I was going to keep you here,” he admitted softly. “Somewhere safe. Somewhere only I could reach you.”

Your heart ached, but it wasn’t from the heat in your veins, it was from the weight of his words. He wasn’t just cruel. He was broken.

“You can’t just… trap someone because you’re afraid of losing them,” you said, your voice cracking.

Dazai smiled, but it was hollow. “I know. I’m a terrible person. But I don’t care. If it means I get to keep you, I’ll be as terrible as I need to be.”

Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head. “You can’t fix yourself by breaking me.”

For the first time, his smile faltered completely.

Dazai stood abruptly, his back to you. “Maybe you’re right,” he murmured. “But I don’t know how to stop”, “I’ll give you one chance to leave,” he said, his voice low. “The door’s unlocked. Walk away, and I won’t stop you.”

Your legs trembled as you stumbled to your feet, the effects of the drug making you weak. You hesitated, the weight of his words pulling at you, but you forced yourself forward, crossing the threshold.

“Goodbye, Dazai,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if he could hear you.

The door closed behind you, and for a moment, the air felt lighter. You took a shaky breath, the realization of freedom settling in.

But then, something sharp pierced the back of your neck.

Your vision blurred as you crumpled to the ground, your body unresponsive.

Dazai crouched beside you, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, “Did you really think I’d let you go?”

Tears filled your eyes as your body refused to respond, paralyzed by whatever he’d injected into you. The faint warmth of the aphrodisiac lingered, making everything feel surreal. Your vision swam, but you could see Dazai’s face hovering above yours. His expression was calm, but the madness in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I gave you a chance,” he murmured, almost regretfully. “I really did. But you just had to walk away, didn’t you?”

He sighed, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I wasn’t lying, you know. I wanted to give you freedom. I wanted to prove to myself that I could let you go. But I can’t.”

“Dazai… please…” you managed to whisper, your voice weak and trembling.

“Shhh,” he hushed you, his tone soft, almost tender. “You don’t understand yet, but you will. I’m doing this for us.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you as if you were something fragile.

“I’ve lost too much already,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “Too many people, too many pieces of myself. I won’t lose you too.”

You wanted to scream, to fight, but your body refused to obey. He carried you back into the room, the heavy door closing with an ominous thud behind him.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said as he laid you down gently on a bed you hadn’t noticed before. The chains were gone, but you knew they weren’t necessary now, not when your own body had betrayed you.

Dazai sat beside you, his gaze unwavering as he studied your face.

“I was going to let you stay locked away, safe and hidden from the world,” he said quietly. “But now I realize I need more than that. I need you to want to stay.”

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky. “You’re... insane....” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his smile faint. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? And yet, you stayed by my side all those years.”

You flinched as he leaned closer, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “You’ll come to understand. I’ll make sure of it.”

A faint sting in your arm made you realize he’d injected you with something else. Panic surged through you as the haze in your mind deepened.

“Dazai… stop…”

“It’s just something to help you sleep,” he said soothingly. “You need rest, Y/N. When you wake up, everything will feel clearer. You’ll see things my way.”

Your eyelids grew heavy, your vision darkening as his voice became distant.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

And as consciousness slipped away, the last thing you felt was the weight of his presence, inescapable and all-consuming.

When you woke, you didn’t know how much time had passed. The room was different now—softer lighting, warmer tones. The chains were gone, replaced by the illusion of freedom.

But the door was locked.

And Dazai was sitting in the corner, watching you with a smile that sent chills down your spine.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

---------

I wrote this before replying to a request for a Fyodor's fic and saved in draft so... I guess 2 posts in a row would be great~

[lurkingshan]

2024 Recap: ✨A Summary✨

Post your most popular and/or favourite edit/gifset/analysis for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)

@troubled-mind and @my-rose-tinted-glasses brought this back, so here is mine! I can't believe some of this stuff happened this year, it feels like it's been 84 years.

January:

most popular - Deep character analysis of Phaya from The Sign

favorites - The birth of Japanese QL Corner, Breakdown of the Last Twilight finale (siiiigh), love for I Became the Main Role in a BL Drama and Gyeongseong Creature, and this list of some of my fav non-BL jdramas

I was a busy little bee in January! Not surprising, as I tend to hermit at home in the deep winter and do nothing but watch dramas and post too much. JQL Corner became my big project of the year, and I can't believe there wasn't a single week that I didn't have Japanese QL to talk about. I Became the Main and Gyeongseong were both surprise delights that ended up among my favs of the year. I’m still holding my LT grudge, in case anyone had any doubt.

February:

most popular - Praise for Dead Friend Forever's mystery arc

favorites - Appreciation for Love for Love's Sake's ending, every single LITBC book club post that I either wrote or read, my final review of Cooking Crush

The original run for the LITBC book club that @bengiyo and I led! What a great time reading a fantastic book, chatting with besties, and making new friends. I also stand by that praise for DFF's mystery arc--that was the strongest part of the show; the things I took issue with were elsewhere in the story. I have just been thinking I need to rewatch LFLS and this post reminds me why (I remember when it first ended me and @wen-kexing-apologist were like, we're going to watch it again immediately! And then realized we were in no way emotionally prepared for that LMAO). Cooking Crush remains a fav and I may or may not be rewatching right now.

March:

most popular and favorite- An actual love letter to TsukuTabe, my beloved

other favorites - Analysis of Unknown ep 6 aka The Turning Point and big love for Cherry Magic Thailand after the finale

Wow, three of my very favorite shows of the year all happening at once. What a blessed month this was. Also, this is not a specific post, but this is the month when I read Da Ge and then spent weeks with people coming into my DMs to get their own copy of the translation, which was a top fandom experience for me because I met a bunch of new people, some of whom stuck around to talk about Unknown, and it made me feel like an illicit dealer which was very fun.

April:

most popular - The boopening

favorites- A breakdown of the pseudo-incest trope and this list of my favorite friends to lovers dramas

The boopening was a once in a lifetime whimsical tumblr event, and I am so glad I was able to participate fully. I also really like these other two because I feel strongly that all tropes have their place and can be enjoyed when executed well and I love talking about that.

May:

most popular - Love for Oyei and Cher from Wandee Goodday

favorites - Trans Allegory in Cupid's Last Wish, co-authored with @wen-kexing-apologist and @so-much-yet-to-learn and this cdrama rec list.

I spent much of May watching and posting about shows I did not end up liking much in the end, but that is also the month I finally watched CLW with my friends and enjoyed it more than expected, in part because WKA had us watch it through the lens of trans allegory, which totally worked.

June:

most popular - Class disparity themes in Love Sea

favorites - 10 Things I Love About Triage, celebrating Thai marriage equality with @my-rose-tinted-glasses, praise for Marahuyo Project

What a fun Pride month with the start of Love Sea, Knock Knock Boys, Marahuyo Project, The Trainee, and me finally watching Triage.

July:

most popular - Teaching the youths about face fucking and power dynamics in Love Sea

favorites - 10 Things I Love About Oppan and The Miracle of Teddy Bear Saved the Gays with @twig-tea

More great shows. I'm so glad me and Twig ignored the rumors and watched Teddy Bear because it's one of my favorite Thai dramas of all time.

August:

most popular - Cheering on the defeat of noble idiocy in Love Sea

favorites - Praise for Knock Knock Boys and this spicy JBL rec list and this other quality JBL rec list and calling out weird fandom attitudes about JBL

Another good month, and the busiest by far for QL Corner. There were so many JQLs airing this summer! What a time to be alive.

September:

most popular - Documenting Wang's behavior in The On1y One

favorites - 10 Things I Love About Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding, clocking Doku Koi as a fav early, this high school bl rec list and this BL romance rec list

I'm filled with so much bitterness reading that Wang/Tian post. I'll be taking this grudge to the grave!

October:

most popular - Moar boops

favorites - Analyzing Dohoe in Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo and celebrating the first two episodes of Love in the Big City and the creation of the LITBC Drama Book Club Round Up

Two moody Korean shows with complicated gay leads dropped in my birthday month, the book club band was back together, and I got to do Halloween themed boops. I WAS THRIVING IN OCTOBER.

November:

most popular - On fandom as a life saving force

favorites - This list of some of my trash favs for @happypotato48 and getting my feelings out on Young and Gyuho and Hirukawa and Minase and final thoughts on the LITBC drama

I was having a lot of feelings in November.

December:

most popular - Democracy in Squid Game 2

favourite - QL superlatives and grievances, this round up of my fav dramas of the year and being so very normal about Hirukawa

This write up really helped me appreciate that I had good stuff to watch and write about every month this year. There were some disappointments, but also a lot of shows I really loved and it was fun to remember some of the things I wrote. Also, i got to make so many fun rec lists! If you were tagged here, or if you just see this and want to join in, consider yourself invited to do your own!

You can go here to find your top 10 posts of each month.

[satansdarlin]

Marigold Margins

oneshot

Tim drake x Fem!reader, Established relationship, period comfort

notes: made this cause I was having terrible period cramps

word count: 4.4 K

rating: G

Warnings: None :)

The penthouse was unusually quiet when Tim returned home well past midnight. The board meeting had dragged endlessly, but your morning message calling in sick had lingered in his thoughts all day. A simple "Can't make it in" followed by a string of crying emojis had been unlike your usual professional demeanor.

The bedroom was dark save for the faint city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. A mountain of blankets on the bed shifted slightly at his entrance, and he noticed the usually neat space was scattered with tell-tale signs of your day: empty tea mugs, a half-eaten pack of crackers, and what appeared to be a hot water bottle peeking out from the blanket pile.

"Baby?" Tim's voice was barely above a whisper. A muffled groan emerged from the blanket fortress. "Oh, sweetheart." His hand traced the outline of your form beneath the layers.

"I want to cease existing," came your pitiful declaration from somewhere within the cocoon. "Everything hurts. My back feels like someone's trying to fold me in half backwards."

"Not on my watch," he murmured, amusement threading through his concern. "Have you taken anything today?"

"Ibuprofen. Twice. Barely touched it." You shifted, and he caught a glimpse of your pale face in the dim light. "The cramps woke me up at three AM. Couldn't even stand straight enough to make it to the office."

Tim's expression softened. He knew how much you hated missing work, how seriously you took your position. For you to call in, it must have been truly unbearable.

"Why didn't you call me earlier?" He was already shrugging off his suit jacket, mind cycling through ways to help.

"You had the board meeting. The expansion plans." Your voice was muffled again as you burrowed deeper into the blankets. "I didn't want to... distract..."

"Hey," his tone grew firm, "your wellbeing is never a distraction."

He located the heated blanket, plugging it in and carefully arranging it over your curled form. The medicine cabinet in the bathroom yielded extra strength painkillers, and he filled a glass of water.

"Here," he offered both to you. "Small sips."

You emerged just enough to take the medicine, and he noticed the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way you winced at even the small movement.

"I'm going to run you a bath - the really hot kind you like. And then I'm calling Indi."

"Why Indi?" you mumbled, already curling back into your nest.

"Because last time this happened, she brought that special tea blend that actually helped. And because she'll kill me if I don't let her know you're suffering."

A weak laugh escaped you. "You're too good to me."

"Just good enough," he corrected softly, pressing his lips to what he hoped was your forehead through the blankets. "Try to rest. I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, he started filling the oversized tub, adding the lavender bath salts you kept for especially rough days. His phone was already out, typing a message to Indi:

To: Indi

Message: Monthly visitor hit hard. She's in rough shape. Any chance you still have that tea blend?

The response was immediate:

From: Indi

Message: I’ll be there first thing in the morning with supplies. Tell her to hang in there. Making her favorite soup too.

Tim smiled slightly, grateful not for the first time for your support system. He returned to the bedroom, finding you had migrated slightly toward the edge of the bed.

"Bath's almost ready. Think you can make it?"

"If you help me?" Your voice was small, vulnerable in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be at work.

"Always," he promised, already moving to assist you. "Indi's on her way with reinforcements."

"Mm, you love me."

"Yes," he said simply, helping you stand. "I do."

.

.

.

In the morning, the sun had just barely crested over the horizon and you were bundled up in Tim's oversized Gotham University hoodie and a pair of well-worn sweatpants. The familiar scent of his laundry detergent mixed with the persistent aroma of Indi's infamous liver soup - a "family recipe" she swore by during these times. You were curled into the corner of the plush sectional, looking absolutely miserable as your sister wielded a spoon like a weapon.

"Come on," Indi coaxed, the soup spoon hovering dangerously close to your face. Dick was perched on the arm of the couch beside her, poorly concealing his amusement at the scene. "It's good for you!"

Tim, settled in the armchair nearby, let out a poorly suppressed snicker at your expression of absolute betrayal.

"If it's so amazing, why don't you all-" your indignant protest was cut short as Indi, ever the opportunist, shoved the spoon into your open mouth. Her triumphant "Ha!" echoed through the penthouse.

"You need the iron," she insisted, already preparing another spoonful. "Your color's terrible."

"It tastes like sadness and betrayal," you whined, pulling Tim's hoodie up to cover half your face. "Why can't I just take iron supplements like a normal person?"

"Because," Indi started, her voice taking on that familiar lecturing tone, "this is Grandma's recipe. It helped me, it helped Scarlet, and it's going to help you."

Dick leaned forward, his expression sympathetic but clearly entertained. "You know she's not going to give up, right? I've seen this exact scene play out with Babs."

"Traitor," you muttered, but accepted another spoonful with minimal resistance. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm on the side of not having my girlfriend worry herself sick about her baby sister," Dick countered smoothly.

Tim watched the exchange with soft eyes, noting how even in your misery, there was something comforting about the familiar family dynamic. Your phone buzzed - probably Scarlet checking in for the hundredth time today.

"How about this," Tim offered, "three more spoonfuls and we can watch that terrible reality show you pretend not to love."

Your eyes narrowed at him over the hoodie. "Five episodes?"

"Three."

"Four, and you don't complain about the drama."

"Deal," he conceded, earning an approving nod from Indi.

"See?" Indi beamed, "Compromise! Now open up for the airplane..."

"I will literally fire all of you," you threatened weakly, but opened your mouth anyway.

Dick's laugh was warm. "Pretty sure you can't fire me. Indi and I don't even work with you and Tim is literally your boss,"

"I'll find a way," you mumbled around another spoonful of soup, but there was no heat in it. Just the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared enough to force-feed you liver soup and negotiate reality TV treaties.

Tim's hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing gently. Another spoonful down, two to go, and then maybe - just maybe - you'd admit that the soup was helping. But not out loud. Never out loud. You had a reputation to maintain, after all.

"Last bite," Indi announced triumphantly, wielding the spoon like a victory flag. "And then my work here is done."

You swallowed dramatically, collapsing back against the couch cushions. "If I die, tell Scarlet it was Indi's soup that did it."

"Drama queen," Dick teased, but he was already reaching for the remote. "Which trashy show are we subjecting ourselves to tonight?"

"Real Housewives of Gotham," you and Indi said in unison, causing Tim to groan softly.

"You promised not to complain," you reminded him, shifting to rest your head against his shoulder as he moved to join you on the couch. The heating pad was still warm against your abdomen, and his presence was steadying.

"I'm not complaining," Tim defended, adjusting the blanket around you. "I'm just... expressing concern about your taste in television."

Indi bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up the soup aftermath and preparing what sounded like tea. Dick had somehow produced a bag of chocolate-covered almonds from somewhere - your favorite guilty pleasure snack that you were pretty sure Tim had started keeping stocked just for these occasions.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: Soup status? Did they get it into you? Don't make me come over there.

To: Scarlet

Message: Mission accomplished. Your evil minions succeeded.

From: Scarlet

Message: Good girl. Rest up. Love you.

"Scarlet checking in?" Tim asked softly, his fingers absently running through your hair.

"Mmhmm. Making sure the torture was successful." You nestled closer, the combination of warmth, full stomach, and pain medication making you drowsy.

"Here," Indi returned with mugs of her special tea blend. "This should help with the cramping."

"If it tastes anything like the soup..." you started to protest, but Indi's stern look silenced you.

"It's peppermint and ginger. Maybe a few other things. Family secret." She settled back next to Dick, who immediately draped his arm around her shoulders.

The show started playing, its familiar dramatic intro music filling the penthouse. Tim's hand hadn't stopped its gentle motion through your hair, and you could feel yourself starting to drift despite the theatrical arguing on screen.

"You can sleep," Tim murmured, just for you. "We won't tell the Housewives."

"'m not sleeping," you protested weakly. "Just resting my eyes."

Dick's soft chuckle suggested he didn't believe you either, but you were too comfortable to argue. The pain had dulled to a manageable ache, and the familiar voices of your favorite guilty pleasure show mixed with the quiet conversation between Indi and Dick.

"Thank you," you whispered to Tim, not sure if he heard it.

But his gentle kiss to your temple suggested he had.

The last thing you registered before drifting off was Indi's voice: "Dick, don't you dare tell Bruce about the soup recipe. Some things need to stay in the family."

.

.

.

Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the gentle hum of familiar voices. The penthouse - usually your and Tim's quiet sanctuary - had transformed into what could only be described as organized chaos. Tim was still asleep beside you, his breathing deep and even, one arm protectively draped over your middle where the heating pad had slipped.

The scene unfolding before you was like something from a Renaissance painting of domestic life. In the kitchen, Alfred and Indi were deep in conversation, recipe cards spread between them like battle plans. Alfred's eyes twinkled as your sister demonstrated what looked suspiciously like the proper way to dice vegetables.

"Master Timothy always did prefer the carrots julienned," Alfred was saying, his fond smile evident in his tone.

Near the window, Jason and Dick's hushed argument with Damian had something to do with proper gaming console setups - their gestures becoming increasingly elaborate while trying to maintain their whispered volume.

"Pennyworth's setup is clearly superior," Damian insisted, arms crossed.

"Yeah, if you're living in 1995," Jason countered.

Stephanie and Cass had claimed the bar stools, systematically working their way through what appeared to be Alfred's special triple chocolate brownies. They shared knowing looks each time they successfully nabbed another piece without drawing attention.

Your baby sister Petal had commandeered a corner of the room, her easel set up to capture the whole scene. Her tongue poked out slightly in concentration - a habit she'd had since childhood - as she mixed colors on her palette. The morning light caught her dark hair, making the purple streaks she'd recently added shimmer.

Bruce and your mom had claimed the comfortable armchairs by the window, sharing what looked like coffee and quiet laughter. Your mom's eyes crinkled at the corners the way they always did when she was truly relaxed, and Bruce's usual stern demeanor had softened considerably.

"I swear," your mom was saying, "teenagers are the same whether they're vigilantes or not."

"Tell me about it," Bruce replied with a knowing smile.

Near the dining room, Barbara was patiently explaining something about the smart home system to Duke, who looked both impressed and slightly overwhelmed.

"So you're saying Tim basically built his own AI?" Duke whispered.

"More or less," Babs confirmed. "Though don't let him hear you call it that. He's very specific about the terminology."

You couldn't help the warm feeling spreading through your chest at the sight of both your families so naturally intertwined. Pressing a soft kiss to Tim's neck, you felt him stir slightly.

"The cavalry arrived while we were asleep," you hummed against his skin, watching his eyes flutter open.

"Mm," he mumbled, taking in the scene. "Alfred's here. That explains why it smells edible."

"I heard that, Master Timothy," Alfred called from the kitchen, not even turning around.

You stifled a laugh against Tim's shoulder as he had the grace to look slightly sheepish. Your phone buzzed - another text from Scarlet:

From: Scarlet

Message: Stuck at the shop but Harkin insists on sending you his latest masterpiece. [Picture attached: a somewhat abstract crayon drawing of what might be you, surrounded by what appears to be every color in the crayon box]

To: Scarlet

Message: It's beautiful. Tell my favorite nephew he's definitely getting extra cookies next visit.

"How are you feeling?" Tim asked softly, his hand finding yours under the blanket.

Before you could answer, your mom's voice carried across the room: "Don't let her tell you she's fine, Timothy. She always says she's fine."

"Mom!" you protested, but there was no heat in it.

"She's right, you know," Tim murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You always say you're fine."

The smell of fresh bread suddenly wafted through the penthouse, making your stomach growl traitorously. Alfred and Indi shared a knowing look.

"Perfect timing," Alfred declared. "Master Timothy, if you would assist in setting the table? I believe we'll need the extended leaves for this gathering."

Your attempt to help was immediately shut down by no less than three people.

"Don't you dare," Indi warned, wielding a wooden spoon threateningly.

"Sit," Tim commanded gently, untangling himself from you.

"TT. Drake's companion should rest," Damian added, surprising everyone. When they stared, he shrugged. "Pennyworth says so."

Your mom approached with a fresh mug of tea, settling beside you on the couch. "How's my baby really feeling?"

"Better," you admitted, accepting the tea. "The soup helped. Don't tell Indi."

"Your secret's safe with me." She smoothed your hair back, just like she used to when you were little. "Though I think everyone knows by now. Family recipe and all."

The word 'family' caught you, making you look around the room again. Bruce was now helping Tim with the table, their movements synchronized from years of practice. Jason had somehow been roped into helping Alfred plate food, though he kept stealing bites when he thought no one was looking. Petal had convinced Cass to pose for a quick sketch, while Stephanie offered increasingly ridiculous pose suggestions.

"Speaking of family," your mom's voice was careful, measured. "Bruce and I were talking..."

"Mom," you warned, knowing that tone.

"Just hear me out. The penthouse is lovely, but that Manor has so much space. And Alfred mentioned something about the guest house being renovated..."

You nearly choked on your tea. "Are you and Bruce trying to get us to move to the Manor?"

"It would be practical," Bruce chimed in, apparently having bat-hearing when it came to Manor-related conversations. "Shorter commute for both of you."

"And closer to family," your mom added.

"We're literally having this conversation while everyone's here in our penthouse," you pointed out.

"The Manor has a better security system," Tim contributed, earning him a betrayed look.

"Et tu, Timothy?"

He raised his hands in surrender, but you could see the consideration in his eyes. Before you could protest further, Alfred announced that lunch was ready.

The spread was impressive - fresh bread, three different soups (including a conspicuous absence of liver), and what looked like enough food to feed a small army. Which, given the current occupancy of your penthouse, seemed appropriate.

"I can't believe you're all conspiring about real estate while I'm vulnerable," you grumbled, but allowed Tim to help you to the table.

"Master Timothy," Alfred said as he placed a bowl of your favorite soup in front of you, "perhaps we should also mention the plans for the greenhouse?"

Your eyes lit up despite yourself. Tim shot Alfred a look that clearly said 'traitor.'

"Greenhouse?" you asked, interest piqued.

"I was going to mention it when you were feeling better," Tim admitted. "Bruce suggested we might want to restore the east greenhouse. It's got good light for your herbs..."

"And it's right next to the guest house," Bruce added innocently.

"You're all impossible," you declared, but you were smiling.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: They're trying to get you to move to the Manor aren't they? Mom just texted me. I vote yes. Better security.

To: Scarlet

Message: Traitor

The family meal continued around you, conversations overlapping, laughter filling the space. Tim's hand found yours under the table, squeezing gently.

"We don't have to decide anything now," he murmured.

"I know." You leaned against him slightly. "But maybe... maybe we could look at the greenhouse?"

His smile was worth the chorus of triumphant looks from both your families. 

You were watching Jason pass by your seat when something caught your eye - a familiar glint of metal on his key ring. Beside his motorcycle key and what you recognized as his Manor key hung a delicate rose pendant... and a very familiar brass key that you'd seen countless times at Scarlet's flower shop.

"When did you get a key to Scarlet's shop?" The question left your mouth before you could stop it, casual but pointed.

Jason froze mid-step, his expression flickering for just a split second - but long enough for you to catch it. Years of training with the Bats couldn't quite hide the deer-in-headlights look that crossed his face.

The pieces suddenly clicked into place.

"YOU'RE THE MYSTERY GUY!" The synchronized shout from you, Indi, and Petal made several people jump. Dick actually choked on his water.

"The one who's been leaving the poetry books?" Indi gasped.

"And the vintage botanical prints?" Petal added, her paintbrush forgotten mid-stroke.

"The reason she's been humming love songs while arranging flowers?" You finished, watching Jason's composure crack further with each accusation.

Tim's eyebrows had shot up so high they were practically in his hairline. "Jason, you've been dating Scarlet?"

"I... we..." Jason ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of nervousness. "It's not... we were going to tell everyone..."

"When?" Bruce asked, looking both amused and intrigued.

"Eventually," Jason muttered.

Your phone was already in your hand:

To: Scarlet

Message: JASON TODD?!?! THE POETRY BOOKS WERE FROM JASON?!

The response was almost immediate:

From: Scarlet

Message: ...I can explain?

Message: Actually no I can't. Surprise? 😅

Message: DO NOT TERRORIZE HIM I SWEAR TO GOD

"How long?" you demanded, turning back to Jason who was now looking increasingly like he wanted to jump out the nearest window.

"Six months," he admitted finally.

"SIX MONTHS?!" The collective exclamation made him wince.

"Does this mean Jason is going to be our brother-in-law?" Petal asked innocently, making Jason choke on air.

Your mother gave Indi a pointed look. She was glaring daggers through Jason's back with a protective older sister aura that made her seem like the biggest threat in the room – which, considering the present company of vigilantes, was quite an achievement.

"Indigo..." Your mom spoke in a warning tone. Indi tore her gaze away from Jason's backside.

"You can't blame me for being cautious," Indi mumbled, fingers tapping an agitated rhythm against her thigh. "Last guy she was with knocked her up and left."

"Maybe that's why Scarlet didn't tell us," you murmured under your breath. The moment the words left your mouth, you saw Indi's expression shift from anger to understanding, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Your mother placed a gentle hand on her eldest daughter's shoulder and guided her toward the kitchen for a private discussion. Left in the aftermath, you looked up at Jason and offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Indi is just... protective. She doesn't show it often, but you didn't just come into one of her sisters' lives – you're in her nephew's life too." You explained, watching Jason's expression carefully. "And well, Scarlet didn't let us hunt down her ex." You lowered your voice to add, "Not that it stopped me."

Tim quirked a brow at you, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. "I may have gotten him blacklisted in most of Gotham's elite circles?"

Tim let out an amused chuckle, not at all surprised you'd basically doxxed the guy. His arm tightened around you slightly – proud, not disapproving.

"Well, if I see the guy on the street it's on sight," Jason grumbled, his jaw set in a way that suggested he meant every word. The declaration made you and Petal both smile.

"That's enough for a seal of approval from me," you declared, then turned to your youngest sister. "What about you, Rose?"

Petal nodded with all the gravity of a supreme court justice delivering a verdict. "Agreed, sister." She leaned over toward Damian, whispering something that made him roll his eyes but nod nonetheless.

The sight made your chest swell with pride. If you hadn't gotten that job under Tim a few years back, none of this would have happened. Your families would have never merged into this beautiful chaos. Damian and Petal would never have become best friends (though Damian insisted Rose was "delusional" even while being first in line at her art galleries). Dick and Indi might never have found each other – and now they were planning her upcoming tour together, Dick already committed to joining her on the road.

Your eyes drifted to Bruce and your mom, who had been suspiciously meeting for lunch lately. They thought they were being subtle, dodging questions with practiced ease, but you and your sisters had your theories. The way they gravitated toward each other, sharing private smiles over coffee cups, hadn't gone unnoticed.

And now Jason and Scarlet. Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: Is the coast clear yet? Did Indi go full protective mode?

Message: Also please tell me you didn't mention the poetry he writes me 

To: Scarlet

Message: HE WRITES YOU POETRY?! 

Message: This keeps getting better 😈

You watched as Jason's phone buzzed, and his eyes widened slightly – no doubt getting a warning message from Scarlet about the poetry revelation.

Eventually, Indi returned, her expression softer but no less intense. She pulled Jason aside for what appeared to be both an apology and a series of creative threats about what would happen if he hurt her sister or nephew. From your angle, you could see Jason's expression shift from wary to respectful – recognizing and appreciating the fierce protection of family.

Your phone buzzed one final time:

From: Scarlet

Message: For what it's worth... he makes us really happy. Both of us.

Message: And Harkin adores him. Says he's cooler than Spider-Man now

Message: Just... don't let Indi scare him off? Please?

"How's Kori, Babs?" You looked over at Barbara who smiled warmly at the mention of her girlfriend. The way her whole face lit up never failed to make you happy – especially after everything they'd been through to get where they are now.

"She's doing good," Barbara's eyes sparkled with affection. "Actually, she's presenting at the National Astronomy Conference next week. She's been practicing her speech for days – keeps worrying her English isn't 'sufficiently academic.'" The air quotes made you chuckle.

"As if anyone could question her credentials," Dick chimed in from where he sat with Indi. "She literally navigates by starlight."

"Tell her I still want those space cookies she promised," Jason called out, then immediately looked like he regretted drawing attention to himself as Indi's protective gaze snapped back to him.

"Space... cookies?" your mom asked, looking both intrigued and slightly concerned.

"They're these amazing cookies Kori makes using a Tamaranean recipe," Tim explained. "They literally sparkle and somehow taste like stardust – if stardust was delicious."

"And completely safe for human consumption," Barbara added quickly, seeing your mom's expression. "Alfred helped her adapt the recipe."

"Indeed," Alfred confirmed from the kitchen. "Though I must say, some of the substitutions were quite... creative. Earth cinnamon is apparently a reasonable alternative to pulverized meteor dust."

"Scarlet's been trying to convince her to let us sell them at the shop," Jason mentioned, then immediately looked like he wished he could take the words back as everyone's attention returned to the revelation of his relationship.

"You've been hanging out at the shop?" Petal's eyes narrowed. "Is that why there've been fresh flowers in the Manor greenhouse?"

Jason's slight blush was all the confirmation needed.

"Kori's been teaching Jason the language of flowers," Barbara supplied helpfully, earning a betrayed look from Jason. "What? Kori told me. She thinks it's romantic."

"The fearsome Red Hood, learning Victorian flower meanings," Dick grinned. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut it, Grayson," Jason growled, but there was no real heat in it. "At least I don't write songs about Indi's eyes in the middle of patrol."

Now it was Dick's turn to blush as Indi turned to him with delighted surprise. "You write songs about my eyes?"

"I... that was supposed to be private, Jay," Dick muttered, but he was smiling as Indi pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet  

Message: JASON KNOWS FLOWER LANGUAGES NOW?! 

Message: Is that why my latest bouquets have been so specific??

Message: Tell him if the red carnations meant what I think they meant, then yes 🥰

To: Scarlet  

Message: You two are disgustingly cute. I'm telling Indi.

From: Scarlet  

Message: DON'T YOU DARE

Message: ...but also maybe tell her he's learning it properly? She always said a guy should know what he's saying with flowers...

"Scarlet says yes, by the way," you told Jason quietly, watching his face soften in a way you'd never seen before. "To whatever the red carnations meant."

The smile that spread across his face was enough to make even Indi's protective stance relax slightly.

"What did they mean?" Petal asked innocently.

"None of your business, Rosebud," Jason replied, but his voice was gentle.

"'My heart aches for you,'" your mom supplied casually, not looking up from her phone. When everyone stared at her, she shrugged. "What? I dated a florist in college. Some things stick with you."

You looked up at your expanding, complicated, beautiful family. Tim caught your eye and smiled, somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" he murmured, just for you.

"Yeah," you agreed, watching as Alfred began distributing fresh cups of tea, as Bruce helped your mom with something on her phone, as Damian and Petal bent their heads together over her sketchbook, as Dick pulled Indi into a comforting embrace, as Jason typed what was probably a very apologetic message to Scarlet. "Pretty amazing.”

.

.

.

Taglist:

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[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe IV

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

Joe had just returned home from Los Angeles, his mind still buzzing from the whirlwind events surrounding WWE’s Raw on Netflix premiere. He had spent most of the weekend on the road, surrounded by bright lights, cameras, and the familiar faces of the wrestling world. But now, back in his own home, everything felt off. It was too quiet. The kind of silence that felt unnatural. As if something was missing. Something… or someone.

The house was cold—an icy chill in the air that made Joe shiver as he stepped over the threshold. He dropped his bag by the door and looked around, squinting in the dim light. The place felt empty. He should have been used to this by now. Keyshia and the kids often did their own thing when he was away. But tonight, it felt different. Too empty. Too still.

"Kids? Keyshia?" he called out, his voice echoing down the hallway.

Nothing. No footsteps. No distant sound of laughter or TV noise. It was like the house had been abandoned. He tried again, a little louder this time. "Keyshia?"

His pulse quickened, the first flicker of panic creeping in. He walked deeper into the house, his shoes clicking against the hardwood floors. The living room was quiet, the kitchen untouched. The refrigerator door was ajar, but nothing else seemed to have moved. He knew from experience that Keyshia liked to keep everything in its place, and this absence—this unnerving silence—felt like a sharp contrast to the usual chaos of their home.

He stood in the middle of the room, his chest tight. Where were they? He glanced at the clock. It was almost 10 p.m. The kids should have been home, settling into their routines for the night. He should’ve at least heard something. Maybe they went out for a while? But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew something was off. He had just left for the weekend, and everything had been fine. So why the sudden disappearance?

His stomach sank as a wave of worry hit him. Did she leave me? The thought flashed through his mind like a jagged shard of glass. He shoved it away immediately, unwilling to even entertain the idea. But the more he thought about it, the more the question lingered. Had she finally had enough of his mistakes? Had she taken the kids and walked out on him? The guilt began to gnaw at him. It wasn’t hard to imagine why.

He couldn’t shake the image of the woman he’d brought back to his penthouse in Miami. It had been a mistake, a moment of weakness, but that was no excuse. Joe knew the truth—he had betrayed Keyshia’s trust. It wasn’t just about the fling, it was about the years of taking her for granted, of assuming that no matter what, she would always be there. The thought of losing her, of losing his family, twisted something deep within him.

This is my fault. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve lost her.

The panic intensified as he walked through the house. He checked every room, every closet, even the garage. Nothing. No bags packed, no signs of a departure. His mind reeled, trying to figure out what had happened. Why was she gone? Had they argued? He hadn’t even spoken to her much over the weekend, caught up in the chaos of the premiere. They had texted, but it had been brief. He thought everything was fine.

But now, standing in the empty house, he realized how wrong he had been.

Desperation surged through him, and he fumbled for his phone. His fingers were shaky as he dialed Keyshia’s sister, LaKenya. LaKenya was three years older than Keyshia, and if anyone could give him some answers, it would be her. Joe had always thought that LaKenya knew her sister better than anyone else—sometimes even better than he did.

The phone rang three times before LaKenya’s voice picked up.

"What do you want?" she asked, her tone clipped.

Joe’s heart raced as he exhaled sharply. "The house is empty. Do you know where Keyshia and the kids are?"

For a long moment, there was silence on the other end. Then, LaKenya’s voice came through, dripping with sarcasm. "I hope that slut was worth it."

Joe’s stomach dropped. What the hell?

Before he could respond, the line went dead. She had hung up on him.

Joe stared at his phone in disbelief. Anger mixed with confusion and hurt. He didn’t understand. Why was she acting like this? He felt the sting of her words deep in his chest, the guilt becoming even harder to bear. I’ve messed up... But this?

As he stood there, holding his phone, he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Back at LaKenya’s house, the reality of the situation set in. Keyshia was sitting on the couch next to her sister, watching the drama unfold. She couldn’t help but smirk as Joe’s frantic voice filled the airwaves, his desperation practically leaping through the phone.

"That was so mean," Keyshia said, glancing sideways at her older sister.

LaKenya chuckled, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You gotta make them sweat a little. Let him feel the heat."

Keyshia rolled her eyes, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel a bit entertained by the scene she had just orchestrated. She hadn’t exactly been communicative with Joe over the weekend, letting him stew in his own anxiety. She had planned the whole thing with LaKenya as a way of taking control, making him feel the weight of his actions. But even as she enjoyed the moment, there was a part of her that started to feel the sting of guilt.

He really is freaking out, she thought, her heart softening just a little. Maybe I should’ve told him where we were.

LaKenya, still amused, leaned back in her chair. "He deserves it. He hasn’t been paying attention to you, and now he gets a taste of what it feels like."

Keyshia sighed, folding her arms over her chest. "I don’t know. What if he reports me and the kids as missing? What if he thinks I really left him?"

LaKenya shrugged, unconcerned. "Then he’s a bigger fool than I thought. He should’ve kept his act together."

Keyshia nodded slowly, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She couldn’t just let Joe twist in the wind forever. As much as she wanted him to feel the consequences of his actions, she wasn’t cruel. "I’ll call him in an hour and let him know where we are," she said, finally relenting.

LaKenya raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk curling on her lips. "Yeah, let him sweat a little longer. He’s got to learn."

Meanwhile, back at Joe’s house, the sinking feeling in his chest hadn’t abated. He had tried calling Keyshia again, but this time, her phone went straight to voicemail. Frustration boiled over as he paced the living room, dialing another number. His cousins—Joshua, Jon, and Jon’s wife, Trinity—were on the other end of the line now, and he needed answers.

"LaKenya was no help," Joe muttered, rubbing his temples as he slumped into a chair. He could feel the spiral beginning, the downward pull of panic and regret. His chest was tight, his mind a mess of questions. "I don’t know where she is. It’s like they disappeared. I don’t get it."

Joshua’s voice came through, steady and calm. "Relax, Uce. Maybe she’s with one of her relatives or friends. It’s not the end of the world."

Jon, always the optimistic one, added, "Yeah, man. She’s probably just spending time with family. You know how it is. Don’t jump to conclusions."

Trinity, however, didn’t have the same reassuring tone. She could hear the desperation in Joe’s voice, and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew the truth. If Keyshia left him, then he has to face it. She sighed quietly before speaking, her voice softer. "Joe, if she left you, you have to accept it. Don’t make this harder on yourself."

Joe stood up, pacing once more, his mind racing. "I know, but still… she should have said something. She should’ve at least called me."

Joshua tried again, trying to bring some peace to the situation. "She’s probably just busy, man. You’re overthinking this."

But Joe wasn’t so sure anymore. He was spiraling, unable to stop the flood of guilt and fear that washed over him. If Keyshia had left, it was because of him. And the thought of losing her—of losing his family—was more than he could bear.

When Keyshia and the kids finally arrived back at the house later the next day, the moment they stepped through the front door, she was immediately struck by the overwhelming scent of roses.

She blinked, taking in the sight in front of her. The entire living room and dining area were transformed into a sea of deep red roses—leading her eyes to the carefully arranged vases standing on almost every available surface. There were tall glass vases on the coffee table, the dining table, and even the console table near the hallway.

Keyshia's breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t even considered that Joe might be trying to do something to win her back. She had been so wrapped up in her own frustrations, so convinced that he had given up on their relationship that the lavish gesture almost knocked the wind out of her.

"Joe?" she called out, her voice trembling slightly, unsure of what she was walking into.

No sooner had she said his name than he appeared from the hallway, his face a mixture of relief and anxiety, his eyes searching hers like a man who had been holding his breath for far too long.

Before she could react, Joe rushed toward her. Without a word, he grabbed her in a tight, desperate embrace, his arms wrapping around her like a vise. His chest pressed against hers, his breath ragged in her ear. Keyshia froze for a moment, her body stiff against his, before the weight of the situation hit her. His arms felt like a lifeline.

"I’m so sorry," Joe whispered, his voice hoarse as he buried his face in her shoulder. "I’m so sorry for everything, baby. Please... I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you."

Keyshia’s breath hitched, the overwhelming sense of emotion from the gesture, from his words, leaving her momentarily speechless. She had expected anger or perhaps more of the cold silence she’d felt over the weekend. But this—this raw, desperate apology—caught her off guard. The last few months had been filled with so much uncertainty, so much doubt. She had thought she was prepared to face whatever came next. But now, with him holding her like this, she wasn’t sure what to feel anymore.

The kids stood quietly by the door, sensing the tension in the room but unsure of how to react.

Joe didn’t let go. He held her tightly, almost as if he feared she might slip through his fingers again. His hands, shaking slightly, brushed against the back of her neck, pulling her even closer. He buried his face deeper into her hair, inhaling the scent of her, as though trying to ground himself in the reality of the moment.

Keyshia felt the warmth of his embrace, the weight of his body pressed against hers, and for a split second, she almost allowed herself to soften, to believe that he truly understood the depth of his actions. But then, the reality of everything that had happened between them—the lies, the betrayal, the hurt—came crashing back into her mind.

"Joe, what is all this?" she asked quietly, her voice soft but heavy with uncertainty.

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his hands still resting gently on her shoulders. His eyes were wide with emotion, raw and vulnerable. "I know I’ve messed up. I know I’ve hurt you. And I know words won’t fix this. But I’m trying, Keyshia. I’m trying to show you how sorry I am. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose my family."

Keyshia swallowed, the lump in her throat growing as she took in the scene around her—the roses, the vases, the soft glow of the light from the lamps, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere. This was his apology, a lavish one at that. She could see that he had put in a lot of thought, a lot of effort. But in the back of her mind, a part of her knew that these gestures, no matter how beautiful, could never erase the hurt she had felt.

"Joe..." she began, but her words faltered as she struggled to make sense of it all. She pulled away slightly, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. "I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what you expect from me."

Joe’s face dropped slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I just want you to know I’m sorry, Keyshia. I know I can’t take back what I’ve done, but I want to do better. I want to show you that I can be the man you need, the man you deserve. Please, just give me a chance to prove it."

Keyshia closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. She could feel the sincerity in his words, the genuine regret in his voice. But that didn’t change the fact that he had hurt her. That didn’t change the feeling of betrayal that had settled deep within her heart.

"I don’t know, Joe," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I want to believe you. I really do. But how can I, after everything? After what you did?"

Joe’s eyes filled with desperation. "I messed up. I know I did. But I swear, Keyshia, I will never do anything to hurt you again. Please, don’t walk away from me. Not like this."

Keyshia stood there, caught between the desire to stay and the fear of what staying might mean. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that this apology, these flowers, the empty promises of change could somehow bring them back to the way they were before everything had gone wrong. But deep down, she knew that it would take more than a grand gesture to heal the wounds he had inflicted on her heart.

She glanced over at the kids, who were quietly watching the exchange with wide eyes. They had been through enough turmoil in the past few months. She couldn’t make a decision that would only confuse them more. But at the same time, she couldn’t pretend that everything was okay just because Joe had surrounded her with roses.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Joe stood there, his eyes searching hers, hoping for some sign that she would forgive him, that she would stay. But Keyshia wasn’t ready to make that decision yet. Not now, not like this.

"I need time, Joe," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I can’t just forget everything and pretend like it’s all okay. You hurt me. And you hurt the kids. It’s going to take more than roses to fix that."

Joe’s face softened with understanding, though the disappointment was clear. "I get it. I just... I’m so sorry. Please know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just… don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us."

Keyshia nodded slowly, her heart torn between what was and what could be. "I’m not giving up on you, Joe. But I need you to show me, not just tell me. I need to see the change. I need to feel like I can trust you again."

Joe’s face lit up with hope, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. He stepped forward, pulling her into another embrace, this time gentler than before, but still full of the same desperate need. "I’ll prove it to you. I swear I will. I’ll do whatever it takes."

Keyshia hesitated for a moment, then returned his embrace, her arms wrapping around him, though with a certain reserve. She didn’t know what the future held for them. But for the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they could find their way back. But it wouldn’t be easy. It couldn’t be.

For now, they would take it one step at a time.

[destinyisastar]

Like Him

Summary: As a skilled exorcist you eliminate sinners left and right on extermination day. However, you always feared that you were becoming the person you hate most, and you were correct. What happens when you protect that person and go against Adam?

Alastor x Exorcist Daughter Reader (PLATONIC)

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Sinners are attacking. Some with weapons, others with just their bare teeth. How….how…. exciting!

NO.

NO.

NO.

NO.

Don’t feel excited.

Why are you feeling excited?

You can’t feel excited….you can’t…

“Y/N!! GET OVER HERE!!” You hear one of your fellow exorcists call out.

Grinning from ear to ear you pull out your angelic shotgun. One shot from this will immediately eliminate those unfortunate sinners.  

Headshot after headshot after headshot.

Sinners fall…. fall… fall….

Just for extra measure you stab the fallen sinners in their heads with your angelic spear. Adam had gifted you the gun after he and Lute brought you to their headquarters. He thought that you could use their latest invention to kill hell’s sinners, in Adam’s words you were “a tough bitch” who looked like a little killing could ease the stress off of you.

You fly through the air finally setting your sights on a group of sinners rushing to two exorcists that lay on the ground, trying to fight back with their broken spears. Your wings flap rapidly as you race towards your comrades, immediately decapitating the sinners around them. Their heads fall to the ground with loud thuds.

“THANKS Y/N!” The exorcists yell out to as you fly past them heading to rest of the sinners on the ground.

Cannibals. There are cannibals sinking their teeth into your comrades. Sinners shooting in no right direction. All of this is happening… just to destroy the exorcist…. It’s wrong, you know its wrong to kill sinners but… it…. just gets your blood pumping.

 Adam’s plan was to attack a hotel that was created by the Princess of Hell rather than focus on the other sinners in the seven rings. You didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying (he was rather annoying) you had others matters to focus on.

Your eyes begin to wander as you slaughter the sinners before you. Who are you looking for? One person, well, one sinner…. why? That man should mean nothing to you. Then why are you looking for him?

One of the cannibals jumps on your back, but just as its about to sink its teeth your neck, you spread your large wings and raise your spear, stabbing it in its eye. The cannibal screeches and falls to the ground. Another sinner begins to shoot at you, you take note of his pink and white appearance and as you charge towards him you suddenly stop and look towards the roof the hotel.

Black tentacles begin to attack Adam, slamming him to the ground, little creatures jump onto him. You mind is telling you to move, to help……not to help Adam but to assist the sinner that’s attacking him.

Should you do it?

As your thinking about what to do, sinners spring onto you. Spreading your wings you make them fly off of you allowing you to fly into the air. You set your sights on Adam and… and a red sinner. Yes, that’s what that sinner is….no he….he looks familiar.

Adam raises his weapon.

Should you protect the sinner?

Adam swings, the sinner closes his eyes and winces.

“What the fuck!!” Adam yells out.

You stand in between Adam and the sinner, using your spear to stop his attack.

“Are you fucking me right now?!!! Y/N MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!!”

The sinner behind you tilts his head up slightly, “Y/n….?”

You grit your teeth together and with your strength you push Adam away, he slams into the lights of the hotel. With a huff you grab your shotgun from your belt and start shooting the bleeding Adam.

“YOU STUPID BITCH!!” Adam flies towards you as you continue to fire shots, just as he’s about to attack you a tentacle emerges from the ground sending him through the air. You turn your head to see the sinner grinning.

Ah, that’s it… you remember now….

You stare into the eyes of your father, a sinner… a sinner you are protecting….someone you swore you never would become, yet here you are…

Hearing Adam’s battle cry you spread your wings and fly into the air with your spear in your hand.

Both of your weapons collide with each other.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!!!” Adam yells.

You don’t say a word and continue your attack.

Adam manages to gain the upper hand and rips off your helmet. He raises his weapon and gouges out your left eye, throwing you down to the hotel’s rooftop.

The rooftop cracks as you land screaming, you try to force yourself to get up while holding on to your bleeding eye socket. The golden blood drips through your hands as you try to reach for your gun.

“I DON’T THINK SO BITCH!” Adam grabs your wings, pulling them tighter and tighter away from you until finally they are ripped away from you.

You scream and cry out tossing and turning yourself side to side.

Adam lifts you by your hair and slams your head back down, knocking you out.

“Why do all of my best girls fucking betray me? HUH?!”

Adam turns around to see the sinner getting up, “Oh, OH! I FUCKING GET IT NOW!” Adam cackles, “IS THAT YOUR FUCKING POPS?!! THIS IS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!!”

 Adam drags you towards the sinner, throwing you towards him.

“I gotta say old man. Your daughter is a real killer. It’s a shame that you both won’t ever get to say your hello’s.” Adam taunts the sinner. “Radio is fucking dead!

Alastor grabs your bloody and beaten body and holds you close to his chest. He glares at the first man.

“I have to disagree with you there…. radio’s not dead, but it is ending this broadcast….”

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Slowly you crack your eye open to a black ceiling, with a groan you begin to sit up but you fall back down to the soft cushion.

“Awake now, are you?”

You turn your head to the side to see your father sitting in a chair across from you. As you try to turn yourself away from him, Alastor stands up and walks towards you.

“Easy now, you might hurt yourself.” You can feel him grinning at you.

You huff and force yourself to get up. Your body feels incredibly weak, you try to stand but you just fall to the floor.

Alastor tries to pick you up, but you slap his hands away.

Alastor scrunches his face, “Darling it’s just me….”

“I don’t want your fucking help, I can do it myself...” You grab on to the nearby table and hoist yourself up.

Trembling as you stand you feel as if your body is lighter, in the corner of your eye you spot a mirror and slowly make your way to it.

There are bandages covering your left eye, more on your stomach. You turn around so your back faces this mirror, your eye widens. No longer are there wings on your back. Your legs start to shake, your breathing becoming labored. You walk towards one of the chairs in the room and take a seat, rubbing your temples.

Alastor stands in front of you, with his hands behind his back with a grin.

You look up at him, “Are you going to kill me?”

“Heavens no!” He says as he tries to pat your head but you immediately flinch away from him. “You are my little girl!”

You take a glance out the window, Alastor follows your gaze, “If you’re wondering where your little friends are… they left you here, isn’t that fun.” He taunts.

You glare at him.

“Oh, what’s with the attitude? I thought I taught you better than disrespect your father?” He tilts his head with a sly grin.

“What are you planning to do with me?”

“Straight to point huh? Don’t you want to spend quality time with your father?”

“Just tell me what you want!” You grab your hair tightly.

Alastor huffs, “Well, if you really want to know…” He uses his shadows to teleport take a seat next to you, clearly to just to show off his power, “The Princess would like to speak with you-”

“About what.”

Alastor stares at you, “Well I’d tell you if you’d let me finish.”

You roll your eyes.

“The Princess saw you fighting Adam, and would like to know why you decided to betray him, why you chose to betray heaven and help the lonesome sinners down here… I would also like to know why you decided to help….me,” He looks down for a moment but then stands up clapping his hands together, “Even though I didn’t need your help! I was handling myself just fine before you came along ha-ha!”

“Yeah, right… one more second without me and you would have been dead...” You mutter.

Alastor’s grin tightens, “Well, we should get going! Can’t have you late on your first day ha-ha!”

“What?”

“Well! You, yes you, my daughter! Are now going to be assisting the hotel with its endeavors of redeeming sinners!”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“I’ve killed many of her people…why would she want me helping her?” You say crossing your arms.

Alastor walks around you, “As ridiculous as it sounds her whole hotel is about change. Imagine redemption for sinners! I could almost shed a tear!” He wipes a fake tear off his face, “You just happen to be her definition of change!”

You take a glance at him, then face the ground, “Okay…okay I’ll go.”

“Hmm suddenly more tolerable now, are you?” Alastor grins.

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” You stand up and follow your father to the door, “Wait.”

“What is it now?” Alastor turns sharply towards you.

“Does the Princess know I’m… you know… related to you?” You whisper the latter.

“Does she know that you are my daughter? No.” He grins.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, “That’s good.”

Alastor scrunches up his face slightly, “Good?”

“Well, yes…I don’t think it would be a good idea if others knew I was related to you.”

“If you want it that way then I suppose I can do with that.” Alastor bends down to your level slightly. “Though I would like them to know how I have such a….. killer daughter. Someone powerful enough to go head to head with the first man himself! Oh! You truly are my blood daughter!” He grins as he tries to pat your head.

“Fuck off!” You smack his hand away, “I’m nothing like you!” You walk pass him and go into the hallway.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that…”

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“Hi! I’m Charlie! You may recognize me since your old boss tried to kill me and everyone here!” Charlie grabs your hands, “BUT! Everyone is capable of change and I’m so glad you decided to help us!”

You tilt your head slightly, “I decided?”

“Why yes of course you decided!” Alastor teleports next you, “Don’t you remember?” His grin tightens.

“Ah, yes I do remember now…”

Alastor then teleports to the top of the stairs, watching over you carefully, Charlie said she wanted to speak to you one on one. Vaggie of course was there as well but she was standing off to the side.

“I’m so excited that you’re here! Even if it’s under these circumstances, I would really appreciate your help! I know it’s going to be hard getting used to everything here and some people might hate you….. I wanted to ask why did you betray Adam?”

You look away from the Princess and spotted Vaggie crossing her arms by the bar, she looks at you with sympathy.

“I…” You face the Princess, “I just…. something was pushing me to fight back…. I started to think about the first time Adam and Lute first told me to join the exorcist. I remembered talking to my therapist…”

“Therapist?” Charlie tilts her head.

“Oh, well,” You look over to Vaggie but she just shakes her head, “When you arrive to heaven they get you settled and they send you to a therapist to… well, talk.”

“That actually sounds really nice! Vaggie! Why didn’t you tell me about this?! This could work for the hotel!!” She waves over her girlfriend.

“I thought that the exercises were already like therapy, sorry babe.” Vaggie puts her hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“My therapist told me not to trust Adam but he kept assisting…. eventually he pulled me away from it all together, promising me another way to get rid of all my stress, all of my thoughts…. it worked, for a while at least.” You clench your hands into fist on your lap, “Adam told me, all of us really, that we were protecting heaven…. you…you have to understand I never wanted to become someone that kills…. I never wanted to be…. like him…”

Charlie moves closer towards you, “Like who? Like Adam?”

“No,” You hold one of your hands to your chest, you feel like you’re shaking, “ like my father,” You lower your voice, looking up towards the balcony on the stairs, seeing Alastor grinning down at you, “like him…”

“Oh shit.” Charlie and Vaggie look at each other.

“I’m… I’m sorry Princess!” You face towards Charlie once more, “I’ll do whatever I can to help you… I know no amount of help can erase the pain and suffering I caused…. I hope one day you all can forgive me… I want to be better… I want to change… but I have a request…”

“What would that be?” Vaggie asked.

“I’d prefer if no one else knew that he is my father… I… I never wanted to be like him, I don’t want to be like him…. I spent my whole life trying to forget him…. but in the end I turned out just like him, a cold blooded killer….”

“It doesn’t have to be like that!” Charlie beams.

“Huh?”

“Did you forget where you are?” Vaggie asks.

“This hotel is all about redemption! You just took the first step! Admiting that you want to change, we’ll be there to help you along the way!” Charlie stands up pumping her fist in the air.

“I guess I did….” You shrug your shoulders.

“You’ll get used to the place, trust me…” Vaggie nudges you.

You smile for the right reason for the first time in what seems like forever… but still…. You turn you head to see your father grinning wildly…. you’ll have to overcome your fear someday…. Maybe this hotel is the right place for you.

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This will probably become a little short series. I wanted there to be more angst, but my daughter readers usually go through that a lot so I wanted her to be a bit more happy (even if it's only for a little while >:)

If the story sounds a little bit similar you can say I got the idea from @theamberfist ->(Like Father, Like Child) You should totally check them out, their stories are so so so good!

BTW I also got this idea while listening to Tyler the Creator (Like Him)

I hope you all enjoyed!

Also, for that anon that sent me a request about using a certain musical it will happen! You have shown me a whole new world!

Wordcount: 2422

destinyisastar 2025