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cbeargyu · 19 days ago

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rockstar!beomgyu?…

( maybe make him toxic aswell….)😝😝

REVENGE

summary: you never meant to kiss beomgyu. and you definitely never meant to let it happen again. but when the boy you love breaks your heart and your oldest friend looks at you like he’s been waiting his whole life to ruin you… revenge suddenly feels a lot like salvation.

pairing: rockstar!beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, angst, toxic relationship, cheating, friends to lovers.

warnings: infidelity, rough sex, possessiveness, dirty talk, emotional manipulation, light choking, toxic dynamics, mention of heartbreak and crying, jealousy, one (1) very unhinged rockstar, degradation + praise kink, creampie, bruising, guilt turned into arousal, emotionally destructive behavior.

wc: 4,9k

notes: omg anons have such spicy ideas 🔥 i loved it, i just wanna confess that a certain part of this fic is based on real events 💔 yes, i was someone’s rebound… bye 💀😭

you’re moaning into his neck, breath hot and sticky as your body rocks against beomgyu’s, the faint scent of beer mixing with the sweat clinging to your skin. the air in his apartment is thick—too warm, too heavy with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. his fingers dig into your hips like he’s trying to make you stay. like he’s scared you’ll disappear once it’s over.

you can’t even remember how many times you’ve said this would be the last.

“fuck, y/n,” he groans against your ear, voice rough with need, “you feel so fucking good…”

your eyes flutter shut, and for a second you let yourself drown in the feeling—his body pressed to yours, the heat, the pleasure—but then your mind betrays you, dragging you back.

you are riding him like he’s the only thing that ever made you feel alive. drunk on beer and heartbreak and the taste of revenge.

how did it come to this?

it’s blurry now, but you remember high school. back when beomgyu was just a boy with a cheap guitar and fire in his veins. he was wild even then—raw talent, untamed charm, a little too reckless for his own good. he’d get into fights with other bands after shows, bloodied lip and bruised knuckles like some badge of honor, and you… you’d always be there. cleaning him up, scolding him gently, eyes full of worry he didn’t deserve.

you weren’t like the others. you were soft where he was sharp, warm where he was cold. he’d watch you in the crowd like you were the only thing that mattered. he told you once that loving you felt inevitable, like breathing.

but you got scared.

when he confessed, heart in his throat and all, you told him you wanted to stay friends. you were terrified of what loving him could do to you. to both of you. and he just nodded, forced a smile, said “yeah, friends is good.” because even then, he’d rather have a piece of you than none at all.

time passed. you became an interior designer. he became a fucking rockstar. headlines, award shows, rumors, tattoos. but you stayed in touch—occasional texts, quick calls when your schedules allowed it. you never drifted completely.

and then came donghyun.

you met him in college, started dating two years ago. he was kind, at first. safe. steady. you let yourself believe in that fairytale. until the distance crept in. until his kisses felt more like habit than desire. you kept asking yourself, did i do something wrong? did he stop loving me?

the night it broke, he told you the truth.

"when we started dating... i wasn’t sure it was what i wanted. i told you i was over her, but... i wasn’t. i thought i could be, but—i’m sorry, y/n.”

the words split you open.

you cried so much that night, you couldn’t even see the screen when you typed beomgyu’s name.

“are you busy?” “no. where are you?” “can you come over?” “already on my way.”

twenty minutes later, he was at your door.

hair longer now, messy and beautiful, piercings glinting in the hallway light. he was breathing hard like he ran up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. in his hand: a plastic bag with cheap beer.

you couldn’t stop crying. he dropped the beers on the kitchen counter and pulled you into his arms without a word. just held you while you shook in his chest.

“he said he wasn’t even sure,” you whispered later, curled up on the couch. “he said he was still thinking about her. all that time... i was just a fucking rebound.”

his jaw clenched, eyes darkening. “that bastard never deserved you.”

“i feel so stupid, gyu.”

“don’t,” he said, voice low and serious. “don’t you ever say that. you loved him. you gave everything. that’s not stupid. that’s beautiful.”

“why wasn’t i enough?”

he looked at you for a long time, like he was deciding something.

“y/n,” he said softly, leaning in. “that wasn’t your fault. he’s the one who didn’t know what he had. you... fuck, you’ve always been more than enough.”

the kiss happened slowly.

his hand on your cheek. your breath hitching. his lips brushing yours like a question—like a warning. and then, you kissed him back.

soft. desperate. too long coming.

when you pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. “you need to make him regret it,” he whispered, thumb stroking your skin. “you need to make him feel what it’s like to lose you. you need to feel good again. you deserve that.”

he didn’t ask for anything else that night. didn’t push.

but that was the start of the end.

after that night, you distanced yourself.

you didn’t mean to cut him off completely—hell, you couldn’t. it was beomgyu. but something about that kiss left a shadow in your chest. it was supposed to be just a moment. just comfort. just a stolen breath between sobs. nothing more.

you still texted, still called now and then. his name stayed pinned in your inbox. but you avoided seeing him in person like your life depended on it. like you knew that if you saw his eyes again, if he looked at you the way he did that night, you wouldn’t be able to lie to yourself anymore.

and besides… guilt was eating you alive.

because no matter how “harmless” the kiss was, you were still with donghyun.

donghyun, who promised he loved you. donghyun, who swore you were his future.

donghyun… who you later found texting his ex behind your back. joking with his friends about how maybe he should “catch up with her” again. laughing at the idea of her "missing his mouth." and not in a wholesome way.

when you saw the messages, your chest cracked all over again.

it didn’t matter that you had kissed someone else first. you still felt like your soul was being peeled apart, like you were always the one bleeding more. and maybe you deserved it. maybe not. but either way, you couldn’t breathe when you read those words.

still, you stayed.

and then came his concert.

beomgyu’s new album dropped like thunder—critics raving, fans losing their minds, his name everywhere. and somehow, despite everything, he’d put you on the guest list for the showcase. vip pass. no questions asked.

you told yourself you wouldn’t go.

but you went.

the venue was packed. lights flashing. fans screaming. and when he stepped onto that stage, guitar slung low on his hips, hair damp and wild, voice sliding over the mic like honey and gravel—your throat went dry.

he looked like sin. pure, unfiltered, heartbreak and lust wrapped in leather and ink.

you swallowed hard, trying to force your thoughts back into a box they didn’t want to stay in. because there he was—beomgyu, singing like the world owed him something, like the stage was the only place he could be real.

and god, you hated how much you still felt him.

after the show, the backstage buzzed with people. artists, stylists, industry big shots, security guards keeping the crowd out. your small flower crown sat awkwardly among the giant bouquets and expensive gifts.

when he saw it, he smiled.

“you actually came,” he said, walking toward you. “i didn’t think you would. thought you were still avoiding me.”

you hesitated. “i wasn’t avoiding you.”

he raised an eyebrow. “really?”

your mouth opened, then closed. then opened again.

“…okay. maybe i was.”

he nodded slowly, gaze sharp but unreadable. “why?”

you bit your lip. eyes drifting to the floor. “after that night… i got scared. i’ve never done anything like that before. never kissed someone else while i was still in a relationship. it felt—”

“like revenge?” he said, smirking a little. “because that’s all it was. he hurt you. so you hurt him back.”

you didn’t respond.

because that wasn’t who you were.

or… maybe it was. just for that moment.

you pressed your lips together, looking anywhere but his face.

he stepped closer, voice softer. “how’s that relationship going, anyway?”

you hesitated again. you wanted to lie. to say everything was fine. to keep pretending.

but you didn’t.

you told him what you found. the texts. the jokes. the way it broke you.

he didn’t hold back. “wow,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “i used to at least respect the guy because you picked him. but now? nah. he’s a fucking piece of shit.”

you flinched, but didn’t disagree.

“so why the hell are you still with him?”

“because i love him,” you said quickly. too quickly. too defensively. “i… i love him, gyu. i can’t just let go—”

his face twisted. “he’s making you feel like crap, and you’re still here defending him. what the fuck is wrong with you?”

your brows drew together. “don’t talk to me like that.”

“then stop talking like you're proud of being treated like garbage,” he snapped. “you sound like you’re begging to stay hurt.”

his fingers closed around your wrist—not enough to hurt, but tight enough to ground you. to make your chest seize.

“stop it,” he said through gritted teeth. “i don’t want to hear any more of this shit.”

you blinked, stunned. your mouth fell open, but no words came out.

“if he makes you feel like this,” he said, voice low and furious, “then break the fuck up with him.”

you stared at him, lips parted. heart hammering.

you wanted to scream that he didn’t understand. that it wasn’t so simple. that love was messy, complicated, that you had history—

but then he said it.

“remember that kiss?” his voice dropped, rough like gravel. “how did it feel? did you hate it?”

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. your face burned. because the truth sat heavy on your tongue.

you didn’t hate it. you hadn’t hated a second of it.

and that scared the hell out of you.

because beomgyu was too much. too intense. too real. and worse—deep down, a part of you still regretted turning him down all those years ago. even now.

but you had a boyfriend.

you weren’t supposed to want another man.

even if that man made your heart ache in ways your boyfriend never could.

beomgyu stepped in closer, his presence swallowing the space between you both until your back met the cold wall. the sharp click of your heels echoed faintly on the floor, and for a split second, his eyes flicked downward, lips twitching.

“you look so fuckin’ good in those,” he muttered, almost to himself, his gaze dragging up the length of your body. the slit in your dress revealed just enough of your leg to make his jaw tense, and the swell of your chest, pressed tight in that low neckline, had his breath stuttering for a moment.

then, slowly, his hand reached up—warm, calloused fingertips trailing up the curve of your neck until they cradled your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheek. your breath hitched the second his body pressed into yours, his heat, his scent, everything suffocating.

“you have no fuckin’ idea how many times i’ve thought about you,” he growled, voice low, raspy, like he was barely holding himself back. “since that night… fuck, y/n.”

his nose skimmed along your neck, lips ghosting just beneath your ear, and then—he inhaled.

deep.

like he needed your scent just to breathe, like your skin was the only thing that could keep him alive.

you shivered.

his breath was hot against your throat, and your skin prickled, hypersensitive, the space between your thighs suddenly aching with heat.

“and you?” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. “have you thought about me?”

you didn’t think. couldn’t.

“yes…” it fell from your lips like a confession. like a sin.

and that was all it took.

his mouth crashed into yours, all fire and fury and desperation. it was nothing like the soft kiss you’d shared before—this was punishment, this was craving, this was everything he’d been dying to take from you. his lips moved against yours with raw hunger, tongue parting your lips, tasting you like he was claiming you.

your hands pushed up against his chest, not to resist—but to feel. and god, he felt good. solid, toned, his body firm under your fingertips. you slid your palms over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of him, the tension in his muscles.

his hands gripped your waist tight, sliding up your back, then down again, fingers digging in just enough to make your breath hitch.

he broke the kiss just barely, your foreheads resting together, panting.

“don’t feel guilty,” he said, voice dark, ragged. “he fucked up first. you deserve this. you deserve to feel good, baby.”

your chest rose and fell rapidly, torn between reason and heat, but his mouth was already back on yours—his lips moving, tongue claiming, body pressing harder against yours. you gasped when his knee pushed between your legs, spreading you gently, firmly. his hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it, dragging it up to his hip so your leg wrapped around him.

his mouth moved to your neck, kissing, biting, licking over the spot just below your jaw. “let me give you what he couldn’t. let me make you forget that piece of shit.”

you whimpered. “beomgyu—”

“don’t think,” he murmured against your skin, “just feel.”

he bent slightly, gripping under your thighs, and in one swift motion, lifted you. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the hem of your dress riding up, leaving little to the imagination. he carried you effortlessly to the nearby vanity table, pushing aside cosmetics and water bottles with a sweep of his arm before setting you down on the surface, stepping between your legs.

his fingers found the edge of your dress and slowly pushed it up your thighs, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “look at you,” he whispered, hungry. “god, you’re so fucking beautiful. you don’t even know.”

your head tilted back slightly as his fingers slid under the thin lace of your panties, stroking softly between your folds. you were already wet—aching—and he groaned when he felt it.

“fuck, baby,” he hissed. “he never deserved this.”

your hips jerked forward into his hand, needing more, and he didn’t hesitate. two fingers slid inside you, curling just right, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. your moan escaped before you could stop it, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt.

“that’s it,” he muttered against your collarbone. “let me hear you. let me ruin you.”

your head fell back as he pumped his fingers in and out, his mouth trailing hot kisses over your chest, down the valley of your breasts, tongue dipping just beneath your neckline.

“you want me to stop?” he asked suddenly, voice low, teasing.

“no,” you breathed, desperate. “don’t stop. please—”

he grinned, feral. “then say it.”

“what..?” you gasped.

“say you want your revenge.”

you blinked, body trembling under his touch, your climax building fast in your core.

“say it, baby,” he coaxed, fingers thrusting harder. “say you wanna make him pay.”

your mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut. “i… i want it. i want my revenge—”

“fuck yes you do,” he growled, crashing his mouth against yours again as your orgasm tore through you, sharp and hot and overwhelming. your body shook under him, thighs clenching around his waist as he swallowed every sound, every moan, every broken little whimper.

when you finally stilled, breathless and dazed, he pulled back just enough to look at you, thumb brushing your lips.

“we’re just getting started,” he said, voice wicked. “and i’m gonna make sure you never forget what it feels like to be worshipped.”

you barely had time to catch your breath before beomgyu was tugging your panties down your thighs, slow but deliberate, eyes never leaving yours. they dropped to the floor in a silent surrender, and he pocketed them with a smirk like they were a fucking trophy.

“i’m not gonna fuck you here,” he murmured, breath hot against your lips, “not like this. you deserve better than a quick fuck on a vanity. not when i’ve waited this long.”

before you could answer, he scooped you up again like it was nothing, his arms strong under your thighs as he carried you out of the dressing room, ignoring the voices and laughter muffled behind the door.

“w-where are we going?” you asked, barely able to think straight.

“my place,” he said simply. “somewhere i can hear you scream without interruptions.”

you whimpered, burying your face in his neck, and god, he smelled so good—sweat, leather, cologne and stage adrenaline. he smelled like temptation and danger and everything you knew you shouldn’t want… but did.

the ride in the black suv was silent, electric. your dress was bunched up around your hips, your bare pussy pressed against the rough fabric of his jeans as you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around you. he kissed your neck lazily, like he had all the time in the world, but his cock was rock hard beneath you. he didn’t even try to hide it.

once at his apartment, he kicked the door shut with his boot, not bothering with lights. the glow of the city poured in through the massive windows, casting shadows across the sleek, dark interior. guitars lined the wall. platinum records caught the dim light. this was his kingdom—and tonight, you were the only thing he wanted in it.

he dropped you on the bed, eyes heavy, lips parted.

“take it off,” he said, voice husky, pointing at your dress.

your fingers trembled as you reached for the zipper, but he stepped forward and caught your wrists.

“no,” he whispered, “let me.”

slowly, reverently, he pulled the dress down your body, baring inch after inch of your skin, his lips brushing each new piece of flesh like a prayer. your tits spilled out of your bra, tight and full, and he groaned under his breath like he was in pain.

“fuck, y/n…” his hands cupped them gently, thumbs rubbing over your nipples until they peaked. “you’re a fucking dream.”

he kissed down your stomach, his rings cold on your thighs as he spread them apart, taking his time to appreciate the view.

“this pussy,” he muttered, running a finger along your slit, “doesn’t deserve to be wasted on a piece of shit who doesn’t know how to treat you.”

you moaned softly, but he didn’t give you time to reply—he leaned in, mouth hot and wet against your core, tongue sliding between your folds like he’d been starving for it. he licked you slow, deep, sucking gently on your clit, fingers spreading you open.

your hands tangled in his hair, tugging, hips grinding up against his mouth.

“beomgyu—fuck—” you gasped.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt through you, and your thighs clamped around his head, body trembling. he didn’t stop—he kept going until you were falling apart again, crying out his name, legs shaking uncontrollably.

when he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening, his eyes dark, his jaw set with hunger.

“on your knees,” he commanded, voice rough. “now.”

you obeyed before you even thought about it, dropping to the floor and looking up at him with flushed cheeks, your mascara smudged and lips swollen from kisses.

he unbuckled his belt slowly, eyes locked on yours, pulling his cock free. it was thick, veiny, and already leaking. you swallowed hard, instinctively.

he chuckled darkly. “open your mouth, pretty girl.”

you wrapped your lips around the tip, letting your tongue swirl over the head, tasting him. he hissed, one hand gripping your hair tight as he fed more of his length into your mouth.

“that’s it,” he growled, fucking your mouth slowly, “just like that. fuck, your mouth feels so good—better than i imagined.”

you gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but he didn’t stop, hips rocking steadily, praising you in broken moans.

“gonna fuck you now,” he said, pulling out with a wet pop and dragging you back to your feet. “gonna make you forget every time he made you feel like you weren’t enough.”

he turned you around and bent you over the bed, your chest pressing into the sheets, ass up for him.

he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance, and then—he pushed in.

deep.

you both gasped.

“so fucking tight,” he groaned, leaning over your back, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding up your spine to your throat. “like you were made for me.”

his phone buzzed on the nightstand. he didn’t even look at it—just reached out lazily, tapped the screen and muttered, “i’ll be late. got something to handle.”

you heard him on the line with his manager, voice casual but firm. “start without me. i’ll join after... yeah, don’t wait.”

he hung up and tossed the phone aside, then grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough so your cheek pressed against the mattress.

his pace started slow, dragging out each thrust, making you feel every inch of him. but it didn’t take long for him to snap his hips harder, faster, your body jolting with each stroke.

“does he fuck you like this?” he snarled in your ear, “does he make you scream?”

you shook your head, eyes rolling back. “n-no—only you—”

“that’s right,” he growled. “only me.”

his hand tightened around your throat, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your breath catch.

“this is your revenge, baby,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “so take it.”

his thrusts turned brutal—sharp, punishing, hitting the deepest part of you over and over. your cries filled the room, ragged and desperate, echoing off the walls with no mercy. his grip on your waist tightened like he wanted to mold your body into the shape of his cock, to ruin you for anyone else. to make sure you'd never forget.

“you feel this?” he grunted against your neck, breath hot and heavy. “no one else is gonna fuck you like this. no one else is gonna own you like i do.”

your fingers clutched the sheets, knuckles white, tears stinging the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity. it was too much—his pace, his size, the weight of his body against yours, the filthy things he whispered in your ear.

“i bet you’re still gonna go crawling back to him,” he spat, jealousy burning under every word. “still gonna lie next to that asshole like you’re his.”

you whimpered, shaking your head weakly, but he didn’t buy it.

“nah,” he growled, pulling out suddenly and flipping you over, grabbing your legs and shoving them open. “look at me.”

you blinked up at him, dazed and fucked-out, mascara running down your cheeks.

“you better break up with him,” he snarled, voice low and dangerous, “or i swear to god, y/n, i’ll fuck you in front of him. i’ll bend you over his couch and make you scream my name while he watches.”

your mouth fell open in shock, chest heaving.

“and i won’t stop,” he added, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen entrance, “until he knows he lost. until he knows this pussy—” he thrust into you hard, making you sob out loud, “—was never really his.”

“beomgyu—” you moaned, overwhelmed, body burning from the inside out.

“you think he deserves you?” his hands pinned your wrists above your head, cock slamming into you mercilessly. “he made you cry, he lied to you, he fucking humiliated you—and you still love him? you’re fucking pathetic.”

you cried out, the words cutting deeper than his thrusts, but somehow… it made you wetter.

“you wanna be ruined?” he hissed. “you want someone to actually break you? then let me do it right. let me be the one to destroy you, y/n.”

his mouth found your breast, biting down hard on the curve, then licking over it with his tongue. one of his hands slid down between your bodies, fingers circling your clit.

“i’m gonna make you cum again,” he said darkly. “and when you do, i want you to say it. say who you belong to.”

you tried to resist, tried to hold it in, but your body betrayed you. the coil snapped, the orgasm ripped through you like a wave crashing too hard, too fast, and you screamed—legs shaking, eyes rolling back, tears spilling.

“say it,” he barked, still fucking into you through your climax. “say my fucking name.”

“b-beomgyu—!” you sobbed.

he groaned like he was finally satisfied, pulling you close and burying his face in your neck as he came inside you, cock twitching, filling you up with thick heat.

you lay there under him, destroyed—physically spent, emotionally wrecked, your thoughts tangled in guilt and pleasure and fear.

he didn’t move for a moment. just breathed. heavy. hot. his fingers brushing your jaw as if you were fragile now that he had broken you.

“you’re not going back to him,” he whispered.

not a question.

a fucking order.

you lay beneath him, breathing uneven, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the room. your thighs still trembled from the intensity, from the way he’d made you cum like he hated you and worshipped you at the same time. beomgyu hadn’t said a word in the past minute—his face buried against your neck, body still pressed to yours, cock softening inside you.

for a second, just a second, you wished he’d hold you.

but then his voice broke the silence.

“you’re still thinking about him,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. the accusation hung in the air like smoke. “even after everything i just gave you.”

your heart dropped.

your lips parted, but nothing came out. you didn’t know how to explain it—the ache in your chest that refused to go away. the confusion. the guilt. the goddamn love you still felt for someone who didn’t deserve it.

“gyu…” you whispered.

he pulled back, face twisted into something you couldn’t name. anger? heartbreak? pride?

“don’t,” he cut you off. “don’t make excuses.”

your eyes welled up. “i don’t know what to do.”

“yes, you do,” he said bitterly. “you just don’t want to admit it.”

you turned your face away, ashamed. “i’m scared…”

he leaned down, lips brushing your jaw, your cheek, your temple. “i know,” he breathed. “but if you go back to him… if you choose him over me again… i swear, y/n, i won’t be there the next time he breaks you.”

you looked up at him, tears streaming silently, and in his eyes—you saw it.

not just lust.

not just revenge.

something raw. something real. something that had been growing since you were kids and that neither of you dared name.

“why are you doing this to me?” you whispered, voice cracking.

he exhaled shakily, jaw clenched. “because you’re mine. and i’m fucking done pretending i can watch you belong to someone else.”

your heart clenched so painfully it felt like it might stop. you could say no. you could walk out, gather what little pride you had left, go home and cry again.

but you didn’t move.

you reached for him.

he didn’t need another invitation.

his lips found yours again, slower this time, deeper—like he needed to pour every unsaid feeling into your mouth. his hands cradled your face as he kissed you like it might be the last time. but it wouldn’t be. you both knew that now.

he slid between your thighs again, cock hardening quickly against your entrance, and this time, when he entered you, it wasn’t fast or rough—it was claiming.

your nails scratched down his back, your legs wrapped around him, and all that tension, all that heartbreak, turned into moans and gasps and breathless whimpers.

you knew this wouldn’t end well.

you knew you were falling, spiraling.

but if this was the fall—

you wanted to crash with him.

you lay there tangled in beomgyu’s arms, skin sticky with sweat and sin, lips swollen from too many kisses, body marked with the kind of bruises that didn’t hurt—but reminded you exactly who had been there. your breath was still shaky, but your mind had never been clearer. there was no room for regret now.

the guilt that once sat heavy on your chest had melted into something hotter, darker—an intoxicating thrill that buzzed beneath your skin like a drug.

vengeance.

it tasted like his lips, like his cum dripping down your thigh, like your name moaned against your ear by the man you were never supposed to touch. and as you traced lazy circles on beomgyu’s bare chest, your eyes fluttering shut, all you could think about was how sweet it would be to see the look on donghyun’s face when he finds out what you’ve done.

because maybe revenge wasn’t just a dish best served cold— maybe it was better hot, breathless, and soaked in sweat.

and god, you couldn’t wait for seconds.

416 notes · View notes

gaywineauntsstuff · 3 months ago

Text

Headcanon that when extremely sleep deprived Dick tells Jason wayyy too much traumatizing lore about his life.

Bc he kinda forgets that Jay wasn’t there for it

Since he was hallucinating the bastard (yeah I know in canon it was obviously a hallucination idk)

So Dick will accidentally just lore dump about the most insane shit bc well Jason was there (no he wasn’t)

And when he’s offensively sleep deprived it goes the other direction and he forgets that Jason ever came back.

So he’s just in the corner watching what he believes to be a hallucination of his baby brother except for some reason his mind decided he needed to see what Jay would look like grown up.

Dick on day 7 without sleep watching Jason beat up a gang member: maybe my therapist was right

Jason: the fuck are you-?

Dick: Maybe I DO need to go back on anti-psychotics

————————————————————

Dick alone in his apartment with a bag of shredded cheese and a plain cereal box in one hand ready to have what is probably the Most depressing depression meal: hmmm hmmmm hmmm

Jason who climbed through a window while dick was distracted: Sup

Dick: ah look a wild hallucinajason appears

Jason: what the fuck did you the call me

Dick patting Jason’s cheek: oh they’re somatosensory now too! That’s new! Anyway bye bye baby bird

Jason watching his brother leave the kitchen: ….okay what the fuck?

——————————————

Dick only on 3 days without sleep: this reminds of the time I was about the sign my marriage license!

Jason: two things 1) why does a shootout remind you of being at the courthouse 2) WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU GET MARRIED

Dick: I didn’t get married?

Jason: then what the hell are you talking about

Dick: idk the last time I tried too get married way more guns than necessary were involved and you know when I tired to get married Jay you were there!

Jason “was dead at the time” Todd: what the fuck are you talking about?

Dick: yeah! I mean you really hated her so you told me I’d be a disappointment if I married her and then disappeared. Which like granted I also didn’t wanna marry her but that was harsh

Jason: ….. I? I don’t even know what the appropriate response is? Here

Dick: an apology would be nice?

Jason who is now 50% sure his ghost haunted his brother 25% sure his brother was hallucinating and like 25% sure Bruce used his image as a tool to get dick to do what he wanted: ……. You know what… nah she was a bitch and I’m glad you didn’t marry her

Dick: I mean.. same

—————————————

Dick has a caffeine IV Grayson : this brings me back to the good old days

Jason dodging an alien: ??? When you were Robin ? How?

Dick: no! When Donna died and I didn’t have to worry about saying alive so I could do insane shit like infiltrating an alien spaceship with no protective gear

Jason:??????????????? Dick what the fuck

Dick: OH come on??? You were there! Very quippy 10/10 would be haunted by again

Jason:…. I- yeah you know what I’m not touching this one

#dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #redhood #I will always subtweet Devin Graysons run #it’s so fun #I actually think it could’ve been done well if someone else wrote it lol #ik hallucinajason is only in secrets and masks its fine let me live #dc comics #dc fanon #Bruce would have been concerned but he was busy #self destructing #dick Grayson is the personification of :D but entirely ironically #batfam #batman #comics #Tim was also busy keeping Bruce from self destructing

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gingerteafairy · 2 months ago

Note

more rodrick fics please!!

yesss, i was missing him (i always go back to my default crush)

rodrick heffley x emo!reader

summary: Rodrick never really believed in love at first sight—until he saw you. Just another girl he’d never noticed in college, walking by in a Green Day shirt.

tags n warnings: fluff, a bit suggestive. word count: 1.3k masterlist

“Oh, I…” The words slipped out before he could think, and you stopped, pulling out one of your earbuds.

“What?”

“That band… uh… band. Green Day.” He pointed awkwardly at your shirt, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “You're... American Idiot.”

“Am I?” you teased, the silly wordplay catching him completely off guard.

Rodrick blinked, his brain short-circuiting for a second. “No! I mean… no, you’re not an idiot.” He ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “The band. The album. It’s… really good. It's my favorite. Wake me up when september ends, you know what they say.”

You let out a quiet laugh and tugged at the hem of your shirt, glancing at the design as if only now remembering what you were wearing. “Yeah…”

Rodrick stood there, scrambling for something else to say, but before he could, you were already saying goodbye.

“Bye, Rodrick.”

He blinked, stunned. You knew his name?

“Bye.” He waved, a little slow on the uptake, watching as you disappeared down the hallway. When it finally hit him, he groaned under his breath. “American Idiot? What the hell is wrong with me?”

Rodrick sighed, pressing his forehead against the wall and rubbing his face. He had never really noticed you before. Okay, maybe he’d seen your cool shirts every now and then. But now he realized just how pretty you were. How much of a total idiot he looked like around you. Love at first sight? He didn’t know. But he did know one thing—he needed to run into you again.

And that’s exactly what started happening—with suspicious frequency.

Rodrick suddenly had a newfound interest in your class schedule. The subject? Who cared? The important thing was that you were there. He started bumping into you in the hallways, always keeping an eye on your shirt, waiting for the perfect opening to start a conversation.

After that first encounter, you became an unlocked character in his universe. Now, he saw you everywhere—and for a brief moment, he wondered if you had been invisible to everyone else, just like he was. A part of him kind of hoped you were. Because, let’s be honest—Rodrick Heffley could be pretty possessive over relationships that only existed in his head.

You wore different outfits in the following days, but he couldn’t shake the image of that Green Day shirt, your earbuds in, and that distant, almost dreamy look in your eyes. That was the moment everything changed. The preppy, pink-clad popular girls lost all appeal.

“This is how I’m gonna talk to her.” Rodrick tossed his drumsticks in the air, determined. He was standing at the college entrance, waiting for you, ready to comment on whatever band shirt you had on today. "I'll ask for her favorite songs and make a playlist so we could hear together when i ask her to be Mrs. Heffley."

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “So your new thing is emo girls with dead fish eyes?”

Rodrick pointed a drumstick like a sword. “Do not disrespect her like that.” He spun it between his fingers before tucking it into his pocket. “She’s not emo. She’s simply a woman of deep, complex emotions, expressed through music—”

“Emo.” Ben chuckled, making Rodrick roll his eyes.

The truth was, Rodrick Heffley was tired of pretending to be an untouchable rockstar. Lately, all he really wanted was a girlfriend to walk around with, be stupidly in love with, and eat ice cream with. But no one seemed interested in him—especially not the popular girls. Over time, they all started feeling boring, shallow. Sure, they were good for ice cream and other… needs. But nothing more than that.

“There she is. Wish me luck.”

Rodrick cracked his knuckles, his heart hammering in his chest. You walked through the college gates the same way you always did—beautifully bored.

Linkin Park.

Rodrick grinned. This was it. Now or never.

The smile he gave was almost worthy of a horror movie villain—so wide and sudden that it startled anyone passing by. Realizing his mistake, Rodrick quickly straightened up, trying to soften his expression into something more charming. As you approached, he took a step forward, purposely blocking your path, a forced smile on his lips.

“Hey.” He crossed his arms in an attempt to look suave, but he made sure to keep his drumsticks strategically visible, as if they were an essential part of his charm.

You pulled out your earbuds and let out a quiet laugh. “Hey. How you doin?”

Rodrick smirked smugly. “Name five songs from that band.” He tilted his head, winking at you with a teasing challenge.

It was supposed to be a brilliant moment. But instead of the countless reactions he had rehearsed in his head, you frowned slightly, glancing around, visibly caught off guard.

His brain crashed.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, that was so dumb.” He waved his hands frantically, running a hand through his messy hair. “Shit, just ignore everything I said and pretend I don’t exist while I jump off that window.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. It was just so out of nowhere.” Taking a deep breath, you listed effortlessly, “What I’ve Done, Crawling, New Divide, Papercut, In the End. God, I love Mike Shinoda’s rap parts.”

Rodrick’s eyes lit up. He barely held back from jumping with excitement.

“You know Mike Shinoda?” His voice came out a little too high-pitched, betraying his enthusiasm. “Dude, I am obsessed with those raps. Like, In the End basically shaped my entire personality!”

You laughed, tucking your earbuds into your bag. “He was the father of edgy teenagers—along with gore animes.”

Rodrick placed a hand over his heart, dramatically. “Exactly! Finally, someone who gets it.”

Your gaze shifted to his shirt, your eyes scanning over the band’s name. “And this band… Loded Diper…”

“It’s mine. It’s… my band.” He admitted, scratching his head a little. “The name sounds so dumb now, but I swear it was badass in high school.”

“I think it’s a requirement for rock bands to have weird names.” You joked, surprising him even more. So you had a sense of humor too?

“Yeah, like Metallica.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s basically the same thing as a rap group calling themselves Raptalia.”

“Or U2. Like… what does that have to do with me?” You laughed, and he did too, his chuckles gradually blending into something softer, more real, as they melted into a lazy smile.

Rodrick straightened up, puffing out his chest with pride. “But yeah, Loded Diper. No need to look it up to guess who the drummer is.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “That’s actually really cool, Rodrick.” You watched as he slid his drumsticks into his pocket. “You should invite me to a show.”

Rodrick nearly tripped over himself. “Of course I will. You’re basically my VIP fan. Exclusive backstage access. Full access to the drummer, be my guest.” He tried to sound confident, but his voice cracked slightly at the end.

“Are you flirting with me, Rodrick?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

He blinked, hesitating. “I don’t know… is it working?” He leaned in slightly, his nervousness slipping into his voice.

“Yes.” You shrugged, amused. “Or maybe I just have a thing for drummers.”

Rodrick froze.

"Uh… well… I guess it's kinda… common." He nodded awkwardly, swallowing hard. "Not that I'm undermining you! Actually, it’s really cool."

"Maybe I’ll steal your shirt." You smirked, tossing your hair back as you started walking away. "I look good in black."

Rodrick stood there, stunned, watching you disappear down the hallway. “Oh, dear God. Help me.” He muttered, leaning against the wall for support.

"So, how'd it go with your Avril Lavigne knockoff?" Ben teased, stepping up beside Rodrick, who now looked like he had actual hearts in his eyes.

“Damn whoever invented emo girls.” He whined, dramatically gazing up at the sky.

#rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley #x reader #imagine #reader insert #fanfic #devon bostick x you #devon bostick #diary of a wimpy kid fanfiction #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick

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wheres-mylove · 8 months ago

Text

puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader

Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.5k

A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.

She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.

Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.

“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.

“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.

“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”

“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”

Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”

The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”

“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”

“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”

With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.

She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.

She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.

Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”

Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.

“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”

Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.

The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.

“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”

And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.

“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.

She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.

“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”

She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?

“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.

“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.

The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.

She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.

“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”

Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”

Ah. The young Stark.

“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”

The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.

The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.

“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.

It was the girl’s turn to laugh.

“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.

“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”

“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.”

“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”

Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.

“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”

Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.

“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”

“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”

“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”

(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”

“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”

Smooth, Cregan, smooth.

Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.

“Now, let’s help you with that.”

That old hag was right. He had good arms.

The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.

But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.

Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.

Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was.

Helaena Targaryen.

“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before she even had a chance to say hello.

“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” she shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”

“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”

“I mean,” the girl sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”

He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.

Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”

(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”

“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”

The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”

“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”

(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”

“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”

She knew he wasn’t.

“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”

A strange noise woke her up.

It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.

“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.

Frosty?

She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.

He wanted her to follow him.

“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty kept looking back at her to make sure she was keeping up.

In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.

“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.

“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.

“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.

“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.

“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”

Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”

“You really got that worried?”

“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”

That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.

“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”

“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”

Cregan placed the mug in front of her.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.

Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”

Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.

“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?

“Are you asking me out?”

He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.

“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”

He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”

She liked him so much.

“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?”

“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.

Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.

Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.

Well done, human.

#cregan stark #cregan x reader #modern cregan stark #modern hotd #hotd #hotd fanfic #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan stark imagine

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inseobts · 2 months ago

Note

Law x reader but it's angst and both of them didn't have a happy ending please ☹️. It'll start where the reader obsess over Law for months and he doesn't give a damn about y/n. He'll continue acting cold and harsh towards her. And then overtime Law slowly develops feelings for her but it's too late because y/n decided to leave the crew. The ending goes like ".... as I watch her disappear from the crowd. if only she'd known that, I... loved her." (I swear it sounds better in my head)

or instead of leaving the crew, Penguin was always there for her and y/n slowly falls for him and then Law gets jealous and knows that he doesn't have a chance with y/n anymore. He's guilty for not appreciating y/n all those months.

Idk anymore 😞.

That's all, bye:>

If Only She Knew

law × reader

a/n: omg I love angst so much akswk thanks for the request eheh

words count: 2.2k

tags: angst

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“Captain! I made you some tea.”

The moment the words leave your lips, you already know how this will end.

Trafalgar Law doesn’t even look up from the map sprawled across his desk. His fingers tap against the parchment absentmindedly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Leave it” he mutters, eyes scanning the paper.

You hesitate “But you haven’t eaten anything all day—”

“I said leave it, Y/N.” His tone is sharp, edged with irritation. His golden eyes flicker toward you, cold and dismissive “Stop wasting your time.”

Your breath catches for just a second before you force a small smile “Right… Sorry, Captain.”

You place the cup on his desk anyway before turning to leave, your hands curling into fists. You tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, this time he’ll take a sip.

But as you step out onto the deck, you already know he won’t.

“Still chasing after the captain, huh?”

Shachi’s voice startles you from your thoughts as you lean against the railing, staring at the open sea. He and Penguin stand beside you, both wearing matching smirks, though there’s something sympathetic in their eyes.

“I’m not chasing him” you mumble, kicking at the wooden deck.

Penguin snorts “Right. You just happen to bring him tea every day, patch him up first after every fight, and stare at him when you think no one’s looking.”

Heat rushes to your face “I don’t stare at him.”

Shachi grins “Yeah? Anyway what were you just doing in his office?”

You look away, biting your lip. You don’t need to answer. They already know.

Everyone does.

The entire crew has seen how much effort you put into Law, how you linger in his presence, how you always try to ease his burdens, how you’d do anything just to get a sliver of warmth from him.

And they’ve seen how he never gives you anything in return.

“He’s never going to change, you know,” Penguin says, quieter this time “Law’s… Law. He’s not the kind of guy to let people in.”

“I know.” You exhale, trying to ignore the ache in your chest “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”

Shachi sighs, exchanging a look with Penguin, but neither of them argue. What’s the point?

That night, you find yourself outside Law’s office again, a plate of food in your hands. The lamp inside is still lit, and you can hear the faint scratching of his pen against paper.

You hesitate before knocking “Captain?”

There’s no response.

You take a deep breath before pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. As expected, he’s still at his desk, completely absorbed in whatever he’s writing. His brows are furrowed, dark circles prominent under his eyes.

He looks exhausted.

“You should eat something,” you say softly, stepping inside “You’ve been working all day.”

Law sighs heavily, rubbing his temples “I don’t have time for this.”

“You have time to starve?” You set the plate down beside him, crossing your arms “At least take a break.”

He finally looks at you then, and for a second, you think he might actually listen. But instead, his gaze hardens.

“You don’t need to take care of me, Y/N.”

Your heart sinks.

“I want to...” you whisper.

Law pushes the plate away without another word. And just like that, you’re dismissed.

You don’t sleep that night. Instead, you stare at the ceiling of your cabin, the weight of reality pressing down on you.

No matter what you do, how much you try... he will never see you the way you want him to.

And maybe it’s time to stop hoping he will.

Days pass. Then weeks.

Nothing changes.

Law remains the same... distant, cold, utterly indifferent to your presence. No matter how many times you try to reach him, he never lets you in.

At first, it hurt, but now, it’s exhausting.

“You should stop, I'm saying this for your own good y/n” Bepo says one evening as you sit on the deck, staring at the horizon.

“Stop what?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Bepo sighs, settling beside you “You know what. The captain… he isn’t good at showing how he feels.”

You let out a dry laugh “That’s assuming he feels anything at all.”

“He does,” Bepo insists “He’s just… complicated.”

Complicated. That’s one way to put it.

But after months of being ignored, pushed away, and dismissed, you’re tired of making excuses for him.

“You know what? You're right. Trafalgar Law doesn’t care about me,” you say quietly “and I think it’s time I stop caring about him, too.”

The words taste bitter, but the moment they leave your lips, something inside you shifts.

Maybe this is what acceptance feels like.

Maybe this is freedom.

Law notices it before anyone else.

It’s subtle at first, the way you stop lingering in his office, the way you no longer bring him tea or remind him to rest.

Then, it becomes impossible to ignore.

“You’ve been acting different lately,” Shachi comments one afternoon “Not that I’m complaining, but you’re not hovering around the captain anymore.”

You shrug “Got tired of it.”

Penguin raises a brow “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

It’s a lie, of course.

It wasn’t easy. It still isn’t. But you’ve spent too much time chasing after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

And you refuse to keep running after a lost cause.

Law watches from the upper deck as you laugh with the others, a sight that should be normal, except it isn’t.

Because for the first time in months, you look… light. Unburdened. And you’re not looking for him, you're not looking at him.

Something about that unsettles him, but he shoves the feeling down.

It shouldn’t matter and it doesn’t matter.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

But when he finds himself missing the way you used to call his name, the way you always made sure he ate, the way you cared—

He realizes, too late, that maybe it does matter.

“You seem happier these days” Bepo comments one evening as you sit together.

You hum in response, resting your chin on your knees “More than happier I think I feel lighter...”

It’s not entirely true. A part of you still aches when you think about Law, when you remember all the time and love you wasted on someone who never gave anything back.

But at the very least, you’re not waiting for something that will never come.

And that’s enough.

Or so you tell yourself.

Law watches you from afar, as always, something unfamiliar twisting in his chest.

For months, you were always there, persistent, unwavering. You never gave up on him, no matter how many times he pushed you away.

And yet, now that you’ve stopped trying…

He finds himself wishing you hadn’t. But it’s too late.

“You’re really leaving?”

Bepo’s voice is thick with sadness as he watches you pack your things. His ears droop, his large paws clenching at his sides.

You force a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes “Yeah. I think it’s time.”

The words feel foreign, even as you say them. You’ve been on this ship for so long, pouring your heart into someone who never wanted it. But now, for the first time, you’re choosing yourself.

“You don’t have to go,” Bepo says desperately “The crew loves you. I love you.”

Your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his voice, but you shake your head “I know, Bepo. And I love you guys, too. But… staying here will only hurt me more. I'll never be truly happy here.”

He doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right.

Shachi and Penguin stand in the doorway, silent for once. Their usual teasing is gone, replaced by something heavier.

“You deserve better” Shachi finally says.

You smile, though it trembles at the edges “Yeah. I think so, too.”

The crew gathers at the dock the next morning, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

You exhale, adjusting the strap of your bag “Take care of yourselves, alright?”

Bepo sniffs, pulling you into a crushing hug “Come visit us someday.”

You hesitate before nodding “Yeah… Maybe.”

Everyone is there. Everyone except a certain someone.

You say nothing to Law about your leaving and you made the crew promise they wouldn't tell him neither.

You keep your plans quiet, your thoughts heavier than usual. There’s no need for a grand goodbye, he won’t notice anyway. So, instead, you quietly gather your things, packing only what’s essential, leaving behind the small mementos of a life you’re trying to forget.

The others know. Bepo, Shachi, Penguin—they’ve all seen the way things have shifted, the way you’ve slowly withdrawn over the past few weeks. They know why you’re leaving, even if they wish you didn’t.

You make your rounds, saying goodbye to each one of them.

“Bepo…” you pause as he wraps his arms around you, his voice thick with emotion “Are you sure about this?”

“I have to be,” you say softly, pressing your cheek against his fur “I’ve given up too much of myself already.”

He squeezes you tighter, his breath shaky “You’ll always have a place here with us.”

You pull away, offering him a watery smile “I know. I’ll miss you guys.”

Shachi claps you on the back with his usual grin, but it’s tempered with sadness “You’ll be fine out there, Y/N. You always manage to land on your feet.”

“I’m not sure about that” you reply softly, but you appreciate the sentiment.

Penguin gives you a quiet nod, his usual teasing grin gone “Good luck.”. Actually he's using his at to hide his tears.

It’s not the kind of goodbye you expected when you first joined the crew, but it’s the one you’ve come to accept. They know, and they understand.

But then you turn to face the ship.

Law has been absent for most of the morning, as he usually is, buried in his work. His door is closed, but you know he’s there, just like always. You don’t go near his office.

You make sure to leave your things in a small pile in the corner of the deck, making it look like nothing out of the ordinary. You pick up your bag one last time, glancing back at the crew as they quietly wish you well.

And then you leave without a word.

No one stops you.

Law doesn’t know.

He walks onto the deck just as the crew is finishing their work, wiping his hands on his coat as he steps toward his office. He’s tired, his head still pounding from the hours of paperwork he’s been handling.

But something catches his attention.

A folded piece of paper sits on his desk, placed neatly in the center of it. He blinks at it for a moment, confused. Who left this?

He walks over, picking it up with a frown. His gaze flickers over the familiar handwriting—Y/N’s handwriting.

For a moment, he hesitates. But then, he unfolds the letter, eager to read whatever you’ve written.

He doesn’t expect what’s inside.

Law,

I can’t keep doing this. I’ve tried for months to ignore it, but I’ve come to realize that you’ll never feel the same as me. I’m tired of waiting for something that will never come. I can’t keep living in the hope that one day, you’ll notice me the way I’ve always noticed you. I do accept rejection tho, I just think it's too hard for me to stay and pretend I feel happy like this.

I’m leaving the crew, and I don’t think I’ll be back.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His mind races, unable to comprehend what he’s just read. You… you’re leaving?

He stands frozen for a few seconds, his hands shaking slightly as he grips the letter. Why didn’t you tell me?

He rushes out the door, heading for the deck, his heart pounding in his chest.

He doesn’t see you.

He runs to the edge of the ship, scanning the horizon frantically, his breath catching in his throat.

“Y/N!?”

But there’s no response. No sign of you. Only the distant sound of the waves crashing against the ship, the wind whipping through the air.

“She just left” Bepo says looking like he just stopped crying and then he point over the crowd “Please stop hurting her, Captain”

He grits his teeth, his chest tight with a strange mix of panic and regret.

I’m sorry if I ever seemed too pushy for your liking, I was just trying to help you. I never meant to hurt you or annoy you.

I had a good time with the rest of the crew but my feelings can’t be ignored anymore.

This is something I need to do for myself. Maybe it’s selfish but for once I want to put you second and protect myself.

I loved you.

Goodbye,

Y/N

—

I loved you.

And now you’re gone.

As he watches you slowly disappear in the crowd he whispers so that only himself could hear “… if only she’d known that I loved her.”

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devotedfem · 6 months ago

Text

«Scream»

Synopsis: It's late and you're watching horror movies. But someone's calling you, a weirdo asking you questions about classic horror films. Nothing was wrong until he started to threat you, and when you hang up the phone you realized there's murderers wearing ghostface masks in your house.

Maknae line (poly) x f. Reader

2.7K words.

Genre: Scream au | yander-ish.

Tags: psycopaths maknae line, mind games, psychological terror, murderers (implied but not described), betrayal, the maknae line are a menace here, emotional conflict, delusional maknae line, angry reader, very VERY dubious consent (coercion is not consent so read with caution), happy ending for them not for reader, smut, overstimulation.

A/N: I'm so sorry for disappearing for literally a month, i moved to another country and life has been very stressful lately, so yeah i took a break from writing but here i am again, writing lots of vminkook p0rn. Hope you enjoy!

From the series masterlist; Final girl.

Navigation Masterlist.

You’re eating popcorn, resting on your couch with your feet up on the armchair. You took a gulp of your coke can without breaking your gaze from the tv screen, you startled staining your shirt when the slasher appeared from nowhere, you cursed under your breath taking off your shirt but before you can go to your room to change, your phone vibrated with notifications. You turned them off because the boys always get annoying on the weekends.

You opened the group chat, rolling your eyes when you see the 123 unread messages.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

Jiminie: Guys can u please stfu for a moment, I wanna sleep but u don’t stop talking shit.

You: let’s kicked them out of the group Jiminie, I swear I can’t even watch a movie in peace.

Jjk: u two r so fcking boring.

Tae: right? Like can u two at least read what were talking abt.

You: we’re*

Jiminie: lol

Jjk: Guys this is serious, there’s a sicko killing people wearing a ghostface mask.

You: Ghostface masks are hot.

Tae: ??

Jjk: ???????

Jiminie: ik right

You: Anyway, maybe is just a rookie killer without imagination, like it’s Halloween and there’s a lot of sickos around here. Just closed ur doors and don’t be a pussy.

Tae: I’m literally speechless.

Jiminie: Bye I’m sleeping, stfu.

Jjk: we warned u.

You dropped your phone on the couch, walking to your kitchen to make more popcorn. You missed the plot twist of the movie because of your friend’s annoying group chat.

You were on your bra and pajama pants, not caring about anything in the world. Until your home phone rings in your kitchen making you stop immediately. You frowned tilting your head to the side, watching the old home phone still ringing. It’s being ages since someone called to that number, you didn’t even know that the ancient thing was still working.

“Odd,” you murmured to yourself, answering the phone.

“Hello?”

You heard a heavy breath on the other side of the phone. The person says nothing back, making you frown.

“Who’s this? And why are you calling to this number?” Your patience was running thin ice.

“I’m watching you,” said a man with a low voice.

You rolled your eyes with annoyance.

“Is this a prank? Don’t call to this number again or I’ll fuck you up.”

You were about to hang up the phone but a deep chuckle from the man stopped you. Why does he sound familiar to you?

“Are you watching Friday the 13th?” He taunted. His voice sounded odd, like if he was lowering it purposely.

Your stomach sink with dread, your heart rate speed up when you heard from the tv the slasher killing people.

“What if I do?” You gritted between teeth, keeping an eye on your surroundings. You won’t show fear to that weirdo.

“Let’s play a game, I’ll ask you some questions about horror movies. And if you answer wrong, I’ll kill you.”

Your eyes widened by his words, you were about to hang up and call the police but the other man was quicker than you.

“If you hang up or try to touch your fucking phone I’ll slice your neck,” the threat made you freeze on your place, the wire of the home phone wouldn't let you move far away anyway.

You felt your eyes sting up with tears by fear. You remember Jungkook and Taehyung warning.

Your breath turned shallow and your grip on the home phone started to tremble. You felt cornered and scared.

“What’s the identity of the masked killer of Scream?”

You inhaled deep, this one was easy.

“Uhm, his name was Billy, Sidney’s boyfriend.”

Your eyes roamed your kitchen, watching your surroundings again with dread and fear.

“Good.”

You couldn’t help but frown again because he sounded so familiar to you, but you can’t pinpoint of whom that voice belongs to.

“Last one; what’s the plot twist of Friday the 13th?”

Fucking fucker.

This time your eyes blurred by unshed tears because of how nervous and panicked you felt. You’ve never been good at dealing with strong emotions, even when you try to act tough, in your insides you’re very easy to scare and intimidate.

“I- please i-I don’t know,” you stuttered with quivering lips, you feel like having a panic attack.

“Look behind you, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched sharply, you turned your neck to look behind you, widening your eyes and screaming at the top of your lungs when you saw a man in your kitchen, wearing a ghostface mask and waving his unoccupied hand at you.

And then you run.

And he did it too.

You grabbed your phone from the couch, noticing with horror how the SIM card was missing. But you didn’t have time to linger about that thought.

You listened to his steps chasing you from behind, making you run faster by the increase of adrenaline pumping your veins.

You tried to open the front door of your house, but it didn’t budge. You were home alone, your parents went out in a trip.

You were fucked up.

Without any more options, you climbed the staircases hiding in a bathroom.

You try texting your parents but it was past midnight and your phone didn’t have its sim card, so you can’t call neither text.

That’s why you opened the app where you and your friends have the group chat.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

You: CALL THE POLICE THERE’S SOMEONE IN MY HOUSE AND THEYTOOKMYSIM CARD

Jjk: y/n? what the fuck, that’s not funny.

You: PLEASE IM NOT JOKING AND I CANTK CALLM THEPLICE

Tae: are you being serious right know?

Jiminnie: you guys again?

Jjk: Y/n’s saying there’s someone in her house but she can’t call the police but she can chat with us lol.

You: GUYS PLEASEIMSERIUS PLEASE HES COMING I NEED YOUR HELP CALL THE POLICE!!!!!!!!!!!

Tae: dude writing in capitals won’t make your prank more credible

You screamed into your hand with frustration, pulling your hairs out and weeping with fear, you wanted to smash your head against the tiles by exasperation. They weren’t taking you seriously.

Then you half open the door quietly, watching the murderer roaming the hallway. When he turned his back to you, distracted on his phone, you took yours to snap a picture of him.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

You: *send picture*

You: THIS IS HIM HES INMYHOUSE

Jjk: what the fuck

You: JUNGKOOK IM HAVINGAPANICK ATTACK CALL THE FUCKING POLICE OR ILL KILL YOU MYSELF

Tae: Damn no need to be so harsh y/n, calm down.

You: CALL THE POLICE YOU MORONS

Jiminnie: u guys r so annoying

You: jiminniehelp me please please please im scared imnot lying

Jjk: y/n you’re making me worry, aren’t you fucking with us?

You: NOO!!!!!!!!

Tae: oh well, then we should do something abt it

You: OFC U IDIOT

Jjk: yeah ur right tae, what we should do?

You: CALLTHEPOLICE?????!!!!!!!!

Tae: u think so?

Jjk: mm not so sure

Tae: and u Jiminnie, what do u think?

You: guys whats happening, please im scared

Jiminnie: I think I’ll go and help my y/n.

You frowned with trembling hands, tasting the saltiness of your silent tears. You were about to throw up and insult them again but the bathroom’s door opening made you jump with fear.

“Here you are.”

In any other circumstance you would scream and run for your life, you would grab something from the bathroom to throw it at him and save your life. But none of that happened, you stayed in your spot freeze, maybe because you were having a panic attack, but even then your primal instincts should fuel you to run. But that wasn’t the reason of your frozen state. Not at all. It was the fact that you recognized that voice.

“You… are you…”

Then the murderer took off his ghostface mask, tilting his head to the side and making your heart shatter.

“Yes my y/n?”

Jimin, fucking Park Jimin.

The deep fear was replaced by ugly hurt and anger. You saw red, walking towards him with your fists clenched, you punched him on his shoulder but he didn’t budge.

“How dare you scared me like that! You think is funny?! I hate you so much, I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, with angry tears streaming to your chin.

“You thought I was joking?” he asked with mirth, the dark glint in his eyes turned your stomach with dread.

“Just get out Jimin,” you said tired and hurt.

“Y/n, I’m here to kill you-”

And just by that your fear came back twice as hard, your ears buzzed clogging up Jimin’s next words.

You ignored your throat lump of hurt and betrayal, you felt numb while running away from him, hiding in one of the bottom’s cabinets of your kitchen.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling your knees to your chest. You cried until you felt your eyes swelling.

“Y/n? Baby where are you?”

Your eyes widened at Taehyung’s sweet voice calling for you.

You didn’t think twice before opening the cabinet and throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Taehyung chuckled hugging you back as hard, stroking your hair while you’re crying on his neck.

“There there, nothing bad will happen to you.”

The shinning knife in Taehyung’s other hand knocked some sense into you. The realization of your reality hit you hard making you gasp and break the hug in a flash, you watched him with your jaw set and your eyes showing the deep hurt and betrayal you felt inside.

Taehyung foxy smile widened on his lips, he pouted when you took a step back from him.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he said softly, biting his bottom lip to stop a smirk.

You let him come closer to you just a step, and then you blow his head with a pan making him whimper with pain. You used his moment of confusion to run away past him.

You opened a window to get out of your house, your ears were buzzing by the raw adrenaline pumping your veins like liquid fire.

You were so, so close to reach your car until you’re not. The next thing you know is that you’re falling face down on the floor by a body launching at your back. You groaned with pain, feeling the body pinning you to the ground by its weight.

“Caught you,” Jungkook’s voice taunted against your ear, sounding out of breath.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, making Jungkook cursed under his breath. He covered your mouth quickly, lifting your body to take you inside the house again.

Your eyes were too swollen by the amount of tears you shed tonight, you were tired and hurt by their sick game.

Jungkook sat on your couch with you on his lap, one arm wrapped around your naked waist to pull you against his chest.

“Isn’t she so cute?” asked Jimin sighing dreamily, you felt acid rage running your veins. You felt like being mocked on.

“A little feisty, but pretty.” Taehyung sat beside you on the couch, his forehead dripping a little bit of blood. You smiled wide at his wound.

“Did it hurt?” You pointed to his forehead, he simply nodded with the corner of his lips curling down.

“Good,” you grinned with hatred.

“Now now, no need to be mean to our Taetae.” Jimin squatted before you, stroking your cheek even when you flinched your face away with disgust.

“No need to be fucking weirdos either, if you want to kill me do it already.” And then you literally spat on Jimin’s face, but to your horror and disgust he grinned wide tasting your drool with his tongue.

You wanted to throw up at the nasty sight.

“Sweetheart, we don’t want to hurt you, even less kill you,” chuckled lowly Jungkook behind you, his grip on your waist tightened a little.

“What? But Jimin said-“

“I didn't say anything, silly. You didn't even let me finish before running away,” Jimin sighed standing up, getting out of the living room and leaving you there feeling totally lost.

“Then… why are you guys doing this?” You whispered weakly, feeling way more unease than before.

“You’ll see.” Whispered back Taehyung near your ear, chuckling when you flinched.

And you did see it.

Jimin dragged your parent’s tied bodies to the floor of the living room, making your stomach sink with horror and dread.

“We came here to kill them.” Grinned proudly Jimin, kicking your dad’s side when he tried to wiggle out of his ties.

“Why!? Leave them alone they did nothing wrong!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, so loud that your throat hurt.

Jimin’s face morphed into an enraged scowl. He walked towards you in two large steps, gripping your chin up roughly. His jaw was set and his gaze hard.

“Shut up, before I cut your tongue.” He hissed with fury swimming in his brown eyes.

You whimpered afraid, recoiling into Jungkook’s chest unconsciously. Jimin’s always been scary when he’s pissed off, but never to this point.

Jimin’s face softened immediately at your fearful expression, you saw a hint of regret in his gaze.

“Hey, don’t scare her.” Jungkook snapped soothing you when you cried, he hugged you tightly. But his soft kiss on your temple didn’t comfort you at all, it only made you wailed harder with disgust.

“Puh-please just… leave us alone, what do you want?” You asked with labored breaths, you looked up hopeless at Jimin.

“Hyung,” warned Taehyung darkly. He sounded on edge by your cries.

“We want you.” Said Jimin with a cold voice.

“And we’re pissed at your parents for lying to you about us.” Continued Jungkook with a thick angered voice.

“So, we came here to teach them a lesson.” Grinned widely Taehyung like a sadist.

It was nothing new that your parents didn’t like your friends, they always told you to get away from them. You never listened to your parents because you thought they were saying bullshit, but you damn regretted not listening to them. They were right about these sickos.

“So you just want me.” You deadpan.

“Yep.” You listened behind you.

“Okay fine, do whatever you want with me. But. Let. Them. Go.” You gritted between teeth, pointing at your parents passed out on the floor.

The living room went silent at your words, the hush made you feel unease.

Jimin squatted in front of you again, this time, giving you the meanest and sadistic grin you’ve ever seen before.

“Take her up.” He ordered lowly, piercing his heavy and intimidating gaze on you, then his eyes dropped slowly to stare at your naked torso, gaze darkening and fixated on your chest. You felt your cheeks heating up by embarrassment, you felt self-conscious.

Your throat lump and your stomach turned when Jungkook carried you up to your room. Taehyung coo when he saw your silent tears streaming from your eyes.

Jungkook laid you down on the mattress rather softly, making your heart shatter. They were your best friends. The acid betrayal you felt burning your chest and throat was too painful to bear.

You weren’t surprised when you saw your SIM card on your nightstand.

“Stop looking so miserable, we’re not hurting you.” Jungkook said on the defensive. His scowl only angered you, but another part of you enjoyed to see that your disgust affected him.

“You fucking hurt my parents, chase me in my own house and manipulated me to let you fuck me! I have all the right in the world to feel and look miserable!” You felt your vocal cords ripping by your loud scream.

Jungkook and you stared at each other with labored breaths, you didn’t break your gaze in challenge, until you heard Jimin’s giggles.

“Tied her to the bed,” he said with a smile, making your stomach turn.

You closed your eyes, if they wanted to have their way with you, so it be. But you’ll be just a dull body under them, you choose to dissociate rather than to be present for them.

“None of that, open your eyes.” Taehyung growled gripping harshly your chin.

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand wrapping your neck, making your eyes open in a flash.

And the image above you freeze your entire body.

The three of them were staring down at you with hunger on their eyes, you saw their pretty faces coming closer to yours, smiling like the devils they were.

Ready to wreck you.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 year ago

Text

[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader

Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.

Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending

“Are you married?”

He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.

“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.

He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.

The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.

It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?

He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.

No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.

He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.

I’m sorry.

The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.

Please stay.

The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.

Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.

He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.

Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.

His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.

Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.

I miss you so much.

but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.

That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.

You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.

He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.

The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.

You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.

“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.

“Hey.” He mumbles.

The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.

Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...

He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.

“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.

because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.

It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.

“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”

“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”

“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”

“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”

“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”

“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”

“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”

He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.

Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.

“My pleasure.”

a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

1K notes · View notes

cloakedsparrow · 1 year ago

Text

Clark calls the Batcave.

Jason: Hello?

Clark: Robin? It's Superman.

Jason: Yeah, you were ID'd before I even answered. What's up?

Clark: Uh, I stopped at a store after flying back into town and bumped into someone from work. We walked out together, so I had to pretend my car was stolen, but it's still at my apartment building. I wanted to know if Batman had any ideas for a cover.

Jason: Oh, no worries. I got you.

Clark: What do you mean?

Jason: I'll take care of it.

Clark: Oh...kay. Thank you, Robin.

Jason: No sweat!

Later, Clark discovers his car truly is missing. It's found with the tires, stereo, and catalytic converter removed, the wiring stripped, and the hood ornament knocked off. The police tell him that, sadly, this sort of thing has been happening more and more, even in their fine city.

Clark calls again.

Jason: Hey! Did everything work out with your car story?

Clark: Yes, thank you, Jason.

Jason: Great! Swing by later and I'll give you your cut.

Clark: You mean the missing parts of my car?

Jason: What? No. That shit's serial numbered. The cops would think you were pulling an insurance scam or somethin' if you put it back and anyone noticed. I sold the parts to a chop shop here.

Clark: You sold-?

Jason: Don't worry, my guy ain't a snitch. Your secret's safe!

Clark: ...Thanks.

Jason: No problem. I had to tell him you needed the car disappeared 'cause you were cheating on your old lady so he wouldn't think it was tied to something too bad, though.

Clark: I'll keep that in mind.

Jason: Oh, hey, B's here. You wanna talk to him?

Clark: Yes, please.

Jason: Cool. Talk to you later!

Clark: Bye, Jason.

Bruce: Clark.

Clark: I take it you know what happened?

Bruce: Yes. You learned a valuable lesson, didn't you?

Clark: Next time, I will definitely ask how he intends to take care of it.

Bruce: Good. I don't want my son arrested because he was doing you a favor.

Clark: I had no idea he was going to strip my car and sell the parts to a chop shop!

Bruce: You know how I found him. You knew the risks.

Clark: ...

Bruce: And you're letting him keep your cut.

Clark: Of course.

#ficlet #fanfiction #bat family #jason todd #robin #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc #comics #bruce goes full thug when it comes to his kids #batdat #bruce wayne's adopted children

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reevesdriver · 6 months ago

Text

Daddy Dutton (NSFW)

Request: @babygirl-4986 " Hi, I have a John Dutton request I wanted to do a wife reader where there trying to get pregnant , maybe a little bit of a breeding kink but definitely smut."

Word count: 1360

Character(s): John Dutton

Reader: Female reader

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Breeding kink / Oral Sex (Fem receiving) / Fingering / Older man (Reader is of age) /

Support me: Kofi

John had swore that he wouldn't have anymore children, that was until the pair of you were invited over to your close friend's house for a BBQ party. A beautiful wedding ring on your finger flashing in the sun as you cuddled your friend's baby made him realise what you were missing.

When the baby started to cry you quickly passed her back to her mother who took off to go and feed her leaving you scanning the crowd for John. You caught sight of him, beer in hand, staring at you whilst offering small replies to the man who was stood next to him trying to make idle conversation.

You smiled as you began crossing the garden to your husband. The man next to John saw you coming and took it as his cue to leave giving a goodbye and a nod to you.

"You ok honey?" You ask planting a soft kiss to his lips.

"I'm fine darlin'. You ready to leave?" He asks. You'd been there for a few hours now, drinking and socialising with your friends but you were getting tired.

"Yeah, lemme just say bye to Kirsty and the babe and we'll get going." You reply. John nodded and followed you inside the house as you tried to find your friend. She sat on the couch, baby asleep in her arms and smiled as you quietly crept over.

"We're gonna leave now, give you a little bit of peace." You hugged your friend, being sure not to wake the baby and took a step back.

"I'll see you soon, don't forget what I said." Kirsty says with a smile and says bye to you and John as he follows you out of the house, a questioning gaze present on his face. Opening the door to his truck he ushers you inside before climbing in himself behind the wheel.

The ride home was quiet, your eyes flicked between the road to Johns face as he drove. "What did she say to you?" John asked, finally breaking the silence.

"It's nothing John, just talking about babies."

The car fell into silence again. You were about 30 years younger than John, certainly a lot younger than people had thought when they heard that John Dutton had re-married. Though despite the gap between you and your husband you were a perfect match, hell you wouldn't be married if you didn't think so.

Though one subject had never been brought up throughout the two years you had been together and that was children. You'd been introduced to Johns adult children very early on, you got on with Beth the most though when you were asked about your own children you had nothing to say. You'd never really thought about having children and since John was older now you figured he wouldn't want a little baby around the house so you never really thought about it.

"You alright?" John says pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just day dreaming."

"You're thinking about that baby aren't you?"

You smile and laugh softly. "Yeah, she's cute."

"Our babies would be cute."

"What?" You ask, unsure whether you heard him properly.

"I said our babies would be cute darlin'." He says resting his palm on your bare thigh.

"I thought you didn't want anymore?"

"Never said that."

"I just assumed you didn't, all yours are grown up now, hell Kayce has his own child too. Just figured that was off the table."

John's hand begins to rise, pushing your dress up further. "It was, but darlin' seeing you today with that baby in your arms has awakened something that was buried deep inside of me."

"Oh my." You gasp when you feel his fingers stroke at your clothed pussy.

"Take these off." John says tugging at your underwear and you comply. Sliding your underwear down your thighs you let them drop into the footwell below where they disappear, probably under the seat. "That's better." He says returning his hand between your thighs.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other stroking your cunt John manages to keep his attention on driving and making you cum all whilst muttering compliments to you about how much of a good girl you are.

By the time you pull up to the house your thighs and seat below are slick with your cum, it's a little uncomfortable as your skin sticks to the leather. The truck lurches to a stop as John parks it, he whips the seatbelt off himself and climbs down from the seat. Before he has the chance to round the vehicle and help you out you'd already jumped down from the moistened leather seat and slammed the door behind you.

Taking his hand in your own you practically drag John up the steps of the porch and through the front door. Once inside it was his turn to lead you, picking you up with very little effort he carries you up the stairs, much like he did when you'd gotten married, and to your bedroom.

John places you down onto the edge of the bed and drops to his knees so he can remove your expensive boots all while kissing your exposed skin. You lean back onto your elbows and watch as he kisses your ankle, then your calf, up to your thigh until he reaches your pussy. You raise up an inch or so and pull your dress up and over your head leaving you naked for your husband.

One thing you loved about John, amongst many, is the fact that he loved going down on you. His tongue knew each fold of your pussy and you never had to worry about whether he would find your clit or not as he teased it with the tip of his tongue before lapping and sucking.

"John." You say as a breathy moan escapes between your lips. "I need you."

"You need me?" He smirks removing his face from your pussy.

"Don't tease me John, get undressed and get up here." You say tugging his tucked shirt out of his jeans. Moving backwards up the bed until you are resting on the pillows you watch as John strips his clothes off in front of you.

John moves around the bed and climbs in beside you. Taking matters into your own hands you push him down so he's on his back and straddle his hips. Raising up on your knees you align his cock with your entrance and slide down. His cock fills you perfectly, each ridge of a vein massages your walls until they sit snug against you, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your cervix roughly.

John is helplessly grabbing at your body, hands moving from your waist up to your tits where he takes one in each hand and squeezes before pulling one to his mouth. You use the new position of you bent over slightly to ride his cock, rising up and down his shaft your moans filled the room whilst Johns are muffled into your breast. With laboured breaths you clench around his cock as you cum once more, John moaning at the tightness of your pussy around him.

Little effort is used from your husband to flip you over so your back is pressed into the sheets, cock still sheathed inside you. Johns lips meet yours in a hungry kiss as he pulls back and thrusts into you with ease.

"That's it baby, taking me so well." He says gruffly between kisses.

"Oh John." You moan, manicured nails gripping at his back as he cums deep inside of you. He stills but his cock is still pulsing inside of you. Peppering your lips with kisses you smile in bliss as he rolls onto his side and pulls you against his chest. "Give me an hour and we'll go again, I want you pregnant before the end of the week." He says and pulls the cover over you both.

Just like John wanted, by the end of the week you'd taken a test and jumped into his arms when you saw the positive result.

#mine #mywriting #John dutton #John Dutton x reader #John Dutton x female reader #John dutton smut #John dutton imagine #female reader #yellowstone #Yellowstone smut #Yellowstone imagine #Kevin costner #Kevin costner smut #Kevin costner imagine

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