#did this reply even make sense...should i still be up

[juliettrulyyours]

Human Fangirl Turned Demon Manager

Human Fangirl Turned Demon Manager (Part 3)

Teaser Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

synopsis: you’re a low-level paperwork clerk demon who somehow ended up hired (threatened) by a smug, too-pretty demon named Jinu to become the manager of the demon realm’s first-ever demon boy band. all because he accidentally found your boy band concept sketches.

warning: cursing, teasing (its giving that one boy who annoys you relentlessly bcs he likes your attention)

happy 100 followers i guess?? i was planning to post again next week but then i saw i already hit 1k notes, 50 reblogs, and 100+ followers in under 48 hours so i was like… what the hell, sure

“I swear, if I see those dumbasses, I’m gonna—” You start doing mock punching movements, like you’re fighting someone, imagining it’s those Saja Boys who told you to go wait here and that they’d be back “in a bit.”

In a bit? You’ve been waiting here since last night!

This all started because Jinu decided that all of you should head on early to the human realm, so you could practice the dance and not have any problems later during the performance. So, like the responsible manager you are, you got here a couple hours earlier than the boys’ actual performance time. However, just as everyone got here and was finally supposed to start dancing—

“Wait, where’s Mystery?” you asked, looking around for the mop-looking demon.

“He’s not here? I was sure he was just behind me,” Romance replied as he casually fixed his hair to stay in its perfect, dramatic shape while looking at a mirror.

“Well, we can’t start without him. We’ll go back,” Abby said.

You nodded and stood up, getting ready to go with them, when suddenly Jinu threw his arm out in front of you like a stop sign.

“Stop.” Jinu said, his palm basically in your face. “You. Stay here.”

You stared at him, completely confused. “What? Why?”

“Everyone doesn’t need to come. It’ll be fast,” Jinu explained. “Besides, you’re too heavy when teleporting. I get REALLY exhausted.” He added, dramatically placing a hand on his heart like he can’t breathe properly.

“Excuse me?” you said, slightly offended.

“Well… maybe you’re just having a hard time teleporting because…” you tried to find the words. “Your… butt is so big!”

As soon as that left your mouth, the entire space fell into silence.

Jinu looked at you with one brow raised.

“Manager… are you a butt gal?” Romance asked out of nowhere, his attention now fully on you. The mirror in his hand was completely forgotten.

“You know… it makes sense, because I’ve noticed every time we practice, she’s never in front,” Abby added. “Always looking at our backs.” He nodded sagely, then crossed his arms.

“Manager is totally objectioning us,” Baby chimed in, a slur in his voice as he said totally.

You furrowed your brows at Baby. Did he mean objectifying?

Suddenly, Jinu opened his mouth. “Wow, I mean, I already know you like me, but… I’m not really comfortable with you checking out my body,” he said seriously—though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

You narrowed your eyes, glaring hard at him. Then, without thinking, you lunged forward in his direction.

But before you could even touch him, Jinu snapped his fingers—vanishing instantly into thin air, along with the other boys.

Your punch met nothing but air. And worse—your balance tipped forward and you tripped straight onto the pavement, face-first.

There was a long pause as you lay there, planted on the cold, hard stone floor.

“Stupid, stupid demon boys.”

—

You’re now handing out the Saja Boys posters that that stupid Jinu forgot to distribute between them, even though you specifically told him to when all of you were still in the demon realm.

Honestly, the guy has been so much more annoying ever since that day. 

What’s his problem?

“Hi! Please check out the performance of Saja Boys later here today. I’m their manager and it’s their first performance. We would really appreciate your presence and support!” you tell another passerby, smiling while handing them the poster.

In your head, you’re stabbing Jinu with your pen, while the other guys get cooked in Gwi Ma’s fire.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city is HUNTR/X getting out from the clinic through the back door. Rumi is holding a box of tonics for her voice, while Zoey and Mira are beside her.

“We got the tonics! We got the tonics! Whoo~” Zoey hums like a song, as she holds onto Rumi’s side. Mira is on the other side of Rumi.

Zoey then says, “We can finally get back to the important stuff… like the fans!”

Rumi smiles at her enthusiasm as they all walk through the hidden alleyway.

But then, as they’re walking, they see four shadows from the left side walking towards where they are.

Zoey gasps in shock. “Fans!”

Which causes Rumi and Mira to panic as well.

“We can’t let them see us. Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

All three of them panic. Suddenly hiding behind Rumi—who’s wearing a big hoodie—then they pull Rumi’s hoodie over her and she crouches like a turtle with the box hiding her face.

As they try to walk normally, the four shadows finally turn—and it’s revealed to be the four boys you’ve been cursing for the past few hours for being so late. Mira and Zoey both peek their heads out to look at them. It’s like everything slows down.

“Huh…” they both sigh.

The four boys are revealed to be Baby, Romance, Abby, and Mystery, who are all talking with each other and laughing at whatever dumb joke was just said.

“Woah…” Zoey and Mira exclaim while staring.

Abby then starts stretching, which makes his top ride up. Zoey gasps at the sight of his abs. He stretches more and more until the button of his top flies off. Zoey internally screams, her brain now lagging.

“So… hot…” Mira breathes, suddenly munching popcorn out of nowhere while still staring at them.

Rumi side-eyes them in disgust. “You guys are so gro—”

She trails off as she notices another figure walking behind them.

Trailing a few steps behind is none other than Jinu, who’s looking down before slowly glancing upward. Rumi’s jaw drops as her eyes widen slightly. A strange light flares as Jinu tilts his head slightly, and a random gust of wind blows her hoodie right off her head.

As she continues looking at him, she doesn’t even notice that they’re about to bump shoulders—causing her to suddenly lose her balance as the box flies out of her hands along with the tonics. Jinu slowly turns around in her direction just as she’s falling down in what feels like slow motion.

When she finally hits the ground—along with the scattered tonics—she glances up slightly and notices the stranger extending a hand. She slowly reaches for it, thinking he’s going to help her up.

That is, until his face scrunches in disgust and the hand moves… to brush off his shoulder where she accidentally bumped into him.

Rumi stares in confusion, still looking up at him. But he just keeps brushing off his shoulder like she left dirt on it.

“Ugh. Watch yourself,” he mutters, turning around as the other guys—who had all briefly stopped to look—go right back to their conversation as if nothing happened.

“I just know she’s furious~” Romance hums, glancing sideways at Mystery.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be so mad at you, Mystery,” Baby teases, sticking out his tongue while Mystery now crouches slightly, already pouty at the idea that you’re mad at him.

HUNTR/X hears the banter, but as the boys walk farther away, their voices fade into the distance.

As the Saja Boys finally got out of the alleyway, they all glanced toward where they left you.

You’re fixing the speakers that are going to play the music for their performance any moment now. They walk towards where you are seated. You glance up as you feel eyes on you and see the boys you’ve been mentally murdering since yesterday.

“You!” You get up from where you’re sitting, the speaker now abandoned. You march toward them in anger. Some of the passersby are watching now, probably from how loud your voice was.

“Do you have ANY idea how long I’ve been waiting?!” you say loudly, pointing a finger at all of them.

“Seventeen hours! Seventeen long hours, where I’ve already set up the technicals, gave out the posters, set up a guest appearance for all of you with the most popular variety sho—”

You’re then interrupted by Mystery, who steps in front of the boys so that he’s facing you first—making you halt mid-step.

You look at him before saying, “And you! Where were you? We said we were leaving at—”

He then reaches out and offers something between the two of you, which makes you glance at his hand.

It’s a Soda Pop.

“I… didn’t have any stock,” he mumbles slowly, eyes still on you.

He adds, “And I had to wait for the delivery guy…”

What he said makes you stop and just stare at him as his words simmer in your head.

Oh.

“It’s…” you start, “fine or whatever. Just don’t do that again! We worked so hard for this day and… we need everyone here on time.”

You say it, trying to keep your voice stern.

Holy shit?! Is this your main character moment?! You feel like one of those leads in those dramas.

In your head, you’re spiraling—but in your face, you’re trying not to react.

Mystery just nods, and you try to move away from him because he shouldn’t know he’s got you fangirling.

As you look at the other boys, you notice Abby’s shirt.

“Where did your buttons go?” you ask. Then, before he can say anything, you walk towards him and try to fix his shirt.

“Well… I don’t have any buttons, but I have a bobby pin that could… probably do the same thing,” you say as you start fiddling with his shirt.

Ugh, did he just get more buff?

You’re trying to fix his shirt while he stays completely silent, just letting you. You don’t even realize how close the two of you are.

Jinu, who’s nearby, looks at the scene between you and Abby. He snaps his fingers, and an unexpected poof of pink-ish smoke appears right in front of your face, causing you to cough.

As the smoke disappears, Abby’s shirt is now perfectly fixed—like the buttons were never missing.

“Oh! Nice, Abby!” you say with a thumbs up, momentarily forgetting they even had demon magic.

You then walk away to the other guys, not noticing Abby’s confused expression—but he just shrugs and follows you.

You then gather them all into formation and tell them immediately to get in place. After giving out instructions and reminding them not to act so tense—and definitely not to suddenly start floating out of nowhere—you return to double-checking the speaker, the sunlight angle, and your newly borrowed (stolen) phone where you’re contacting the team for that variety show later.

Yeah, you’re almost done. Just a few more seconds and—

“Manager, I’m scared…”

You hear a voice. You glance towards the direction it came from and see Romance.

“Huh?” you say, confused.

Romance ignores the expression on your face and continues, “I have social anxiety…” He sniffs dramatically, like he’s trying to fake-cry.

“What are you—” you begin. “You really expect me to believe that?”

His hands, which are covering his face, slightly part so he can peek at your unimpressed look. Then he quickly covers his face again. “Yes,” he insists, and starts “shivering” with fake stage fright. You don’t even have a stage!

You just stare at him and roll your eyes. You glance at the rest of the members, then at the time.

You can do this… just give him what he wants.

“What should we do then?” you ask, forcing a smile as you bite back a snarl.

He peeks through his hands again before saying—still hiding his face—

“Wish me luck.”

“No.”

He pulls his hands away and leans in toward you. “Aww, come on! You do wanna see me perform, right?” Romance says, getting just slightly too close for comfort.

You stare at him, before taking a deep breath and exhaling through your nose. It’s fine. Just imagine he’s your ultimate bias and not some pink-haired demon who will most likely eat your non-existent soul.

You then say, a little too excitedly, “Good luck out there, Romance-oppa! Fighting!” You finish it off with your fists raised near your chest.

He just stares at you. 

Okay, yeah… maybe that was kind of cringe, now that you think about it. Before you can say anything to save yourself—

“Of course! This performance of mine will be dedicated to you, my number one fan!” Romance declares. His earlier “social anxiety” completely vanishes as he winks at you and jogs back to the other guys, now finally in position.

Number one fan? You didn’t even say that.

Romance waves at you one last time, and you just give him a nod in return.

You turn to the cue button and start the countdown.

Okay.

Start in three… two… one.

—

“Jinu, don’t forget to announce that you and the boys will be on the variety show Play Games with Us tonight,” you say, holding the earpiece that’s connected to the boys’ in-ears.

You watch them closely, and finally, when they strike their final pose, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Jinu brushing off his shoulder was… new, but honestly? You weren’t mad at it.

He then starts announcing their guest appearance on the variety show, his voice loud and confident over the screaming crowd.

“Saja Boys, love you!”

And as if perfectly timed to the last beat of the song—"My Little Soda Pop!"—they vanish in that signature pink-ish smoke.

You exhale another sigh of relief. They did it! The debut performance was a success! You’re practically giddy now, smiling wide. Maybe you wouldn’t be turned into demon soup after all.

As you start counting the leftover posters you hadn’t managed to hand out to the crowd, a realization hits you.

Those assholes left you again!

—

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[carnatedrugs]

Fix me.

part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

SO! I didn't even think someone would read it tbh. But it makes me happi that someone actually liked it. T o T So here is part 2, im sorry again if there are any mistakes. Hope u enjoy <3

Chapter 2

Entering the windmill, my eyes widened at the details inside. I realized—this wasn’t a windmill anymore. At least, not in the traditional sense.

The interior was dim, lit by soft amber bulbs encased in brass cages, humming faintly with energy. The walls were lined with shelves stacked with glass tubes, copper coils, gears of every size, and mechanical parts I couldn’t even begin to name. Some glowed; others clicked quietly, like they had a heartbeat of their own.

The air smelled of hot metal, oil, and something sweeter—burnt ozone, maybe tobacco. The original wooden beams of the mill were still intact, but now reinforced with iron plates and laced with exposed wiring.

A giant engine—part turbine, part steam generator—stood where the grain mills once operated. Its pistons moved slowly, steadily, releasing bursts of steam through valves that hissed in protest. Dozens of pressure gauges blinked and ticked like anxious eyes.

On the workbench, scattered among oil-stained blueprints and half-finished projects, lay an array of custom-built tools. Somewhere above, a pulley system creaked as it moved something out of sight. The steady sound of gears turning overhead was oddly comforting. This place breathed on its own—chaotic, yet precise. Silent, yet alive.

And in the middle of it all—stood him.

“Do you actually live here?” I asked, eyes still full of awe. He just nodded, placing the engine down and starting to examine it. The silence around him didn’t feel awkward—it was strangely comforting. I was still trying to process everything, and my exhaustion didn’t help.

“Is it... completely fucked?” I asked after a moment. He turned to face me. “Sorry—I mean, is it possible to fix it?” I corrected myself quickly, glancing at the engine again. I could’ve sworn I heard him chuckle. Or maybe I just wanted to imagine he did—to make things less weird.

“It’s not completely fucked,” he said finally, eyes still on the engine. “But I need to examine it properly. It’s a complicated piece.”

“Yeah, that’s why I came all the way here to find the genius everyone keeps talking about,” I added with a small smile, trying to keep the conversation going.

He didn’t reply—just sighed and walked over to a shelf to look for something. Maybe I was annoying him. Maybe I should just leave. I had to figure out how to get back to the village anyway.

“How long will it take to fix?” I asked, slowly following him. “Can’t tell you yet. But for sure, it’ll take a while,” he said calmly, still rummaging.

“I don’t want to pressure you, but I—” “Where are you staying?” he interrupted.

I blinked, thrown off again by his voice. “In the village? Probably?” I answered, uncertain. “And how exactly were you planning to get back there?” he asked, a trace of sarcasm in his tone.

Was he messing with me?

I cleared my throat, and a small laugh escaped me. “Well, I thought of asking the old man who drove me here to come pick me up, but… that idea came to me right after he left.” I smiled awkwardly.

He sighed and finally turned to look at me. “I’ll drop you off. When I’m done with the engine, I’ll send word. You can come pick it up.”

“So… I don’t need to be here?” I asked, uncertain.

He tilted his head—maybe confused. Or judging. It was hard to read him with that skull mask in the way.

“I mean… to keep track of what you’re doing. Make sure everything’s going alright,” I added more seriously.

This time, his chuckle was unmistakable—and it did something strange to my stomach. “There’s no need for that, love,” he said calmly. “Your so-called ‘genius’ doesn’t need supervision.”

Okay, so he likes sarcasm.

By now, I was craving some sort of connection, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy. I felt a little ridiculous. I’d never met anyone like him. Maybe it was my curiosity—or maybe I was already hooked on his voice. Either way, I wasn’t ready to walk away just yet.

“First of all, I didn’t say that,” I replied, stepping closer. “Second, how can I be sure?”

He exhaled slowly. “You’ll just get in the way.” “No, you won’t even notice I’m here.” “So you’re just going to sit around while I work?” “Sounds perfect,” I grinned.

“You know I can just not open the door when you show up.” “I’m just curious. That engine—my dad built it. I want to see how you work with it. No one in my town even understood it, let alone tried to fix it. I guess… I just want to see someone at work like him again.” There was a note of something else in my voice. Sadness. Maybe desperation.

He let out a tired breath walking towards the door and opening it. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice raspy. “Fine. If it means that much to you—stay. Just don’t get in my way.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, stepping outside.

As I stepped outside, I caught a glimpse of him holding the door open just a second longer than needed. Not dramatically, but… aware. A small pause. Like he was still watching me, even when I wasn’t looking directly at him.

We walked side by side toward his car, not speaking. The crunch of gravel under our boots was the only sound for a moment.

I noticed how he moved—measured, solid, grounded. The kind of presence that filled a room without saying a word. He didn’t glance at me, but something about his stillness felt attentive. Like I was already being studied.

The air between us wasn’t warm, exactly—but charged. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or if it unnerved me. Maybe both. I pretended not to feel that little flutter in my chest. Pretended it didn’t matter. That I didn’t suddenly want to know what he looked like without the mask.

I just met him. But something about his quiet intensity made it hard to look away.

We walked toward his car, and I glanced around at the hills. It was peaceful here—so quiet it almost made me want to stay longer.

“Do you always wear the mask?” I asked without thinking.

“You like to chit-chat, don’t you?” he said, opening the car and getting in.

Okay. Maybe that was off-limits.

I got in and looked around. The car was like him—minimal, no distractions.

“Thank you, really,” I said in a quiet voice. “I was desperate. Getting here… felt like my last hope.”

“No need to thank me yet,” he replied, starting the engine.

The ride back to the village was silent—but not uncomfortable. I think he needed the quiet. And honestly, I was at my limit. Exhaustion weighed heavy on me, and even though I tried to stay awake, I couldn’t fight sleep anymore.

I heard the car stop, felt it shift. Then a surprisingly gentle tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes slowly.

“Oh. We’re here,” I murmured, clearing my throat. “Wait—how did you even know where to drop me off?”

“Your stuff was with you. So, I assumed you came straight to me. Not many places to stay around here. I drove to the only one.” He turned away, heading back to the driver’s side.

“Wait!” I reached out instinctively but stopped short. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Simon,” he said simply, sliding into the car.

I smiled softly, watching as he drove away.

A long sigh escaped me as I turned toward the small, cozy hotel.

It felt strange… meeting someone new outside of work, outside of my usual life. Someone completely different. He looked intimidating—no, he was intimidating—but something in our short conversations felt… different.

The thought of seeing him again made my heart skip a beat.

I shook my head and sighed. Maybe my friends were right. Maybe I should’ve gone on dates more. At least then I wouldn’t feel this way after talking to a complete stranger.

“Hope I get to know you better, Simon,” I whispered to myself.

[djpepitaqueenforpresident]

𐦍༘⋆ Mnemonics - B.Barnes

‘The air could not be filled with Winters vocals, but his ears worked better than fine, and instead of hearing someone he could not remember the name of beg in his skull, he listened to you.’

Summary: In which Bucky walks the path of regaining his memories, and he has to figure out wether you are real or just an apparition of hope his own mind conjured up to help him push through the hard ways of Winter.

Warnings: Ptsd, blood, violence, guns, swearing, murder, sad Bucky

A/N: guys is this story even understandable. like do we get the switch from flashback and present? does the timeline and storyline even make sense?. i do not know my own brain sometimes.

English is not my first language!:)

III

‘Helen, Helen, come home;

There was a Helen before there was a war,

but who remembers her?’

“Why do you always eat like The Last Supper,” Sam said from across from them, cheeks still stuffed from his pancakes. “Your food ain’t going nowhere, man.”

“Maybe not right now, no,” Bucky sassed back, shoving another piece of bacon in his mouth. “Wasn’t always that lucky, birdbrain. If you can recall.”

“Oh, we’re still milking that?”

“Yeah, we’re still milking that.”

“Well, you’re starting to drool, so slow down, terminator,”

“Shut up, bird-“

“How is it i’m the youngest here, yet, the most mature?” Steve interrupted from Bucky’s left, accompanied by a sigh and an eyeroll.

“Technically, I’m the youngest, and you two are the grandpa’s, but whatever.”

Technically speaking, Sam was right, but Bucky would rather choke on his one egg he still had left than admit that.

Attempting to change the subject, Steve spoke up again, “Did Amadeus recover any of those missing files, yet.”

“He’s still working on it. He only found the same documents on the drive that we already have on paper,” Bucky responded, discarding Sam’s smug look with a last glare. “Said it was like the person didn’t even really try. Just deleted them manually and then fried the whole thing with a billion watts.”

“So, our person isn’t really that technically advanced,” Sam joined in, “Like Stevey here.”

“Or,” Steve give him a mock smile, before replying in an unamused tone. “They’re lazy and careless. Like you.”

The bell above the glass door chimed, two times in a row, followed by a bellowing greeting to the bald owner who had taken a seat on one of the barstools behind the counter. A permanent residence for the man it seemed, for every time Bucky came here - which was a lot, considering it was a part of his daily routine to sit and write in the farthest back boot - his behind was glued to that same chair. Bucky pondered if his chubby hand had molded into an everlasting deformity from constantly having a cup of coffee in his grip.

“Natasha’s going to the second base tonight, somewhere in the Alps,” Sam continued, pulling Bucky his frown away from the owner.

“I want to visit the Alpine mountains, see the snow from in between the earth,”

“She’s taking Barton with him, despite his many protests. Nat’s not too worried, though, and suspects they should be back by the day after tomorrow.”

The waitress stood awkwardly in front of their table, balancing their now empty plates while she patiently waited for Steve to down his last bit of tea, since he didn’t want her to walk twice all for one cup.

“Shit, am I glad we got the one here,” Sam laughed, watching the brunette girl strut away. “Don’t wanna freeze my toes over there. Knowing HYDRA, they build their stupid evil lair in the coldest top of the mountains.”

“At least it’s not in the sun,” Bucky grumbled.

“What?”

“Well, that’s- y’know. Bad things are less rude when they happen in the winter, ‘cause…” he shrugged, not finishing his sentence.

He didn’t know what he wanted to say, anyways.

They weren’t his words.

“Lay off the coffee, man,” Sam chuckled, his tone teasing but a slight star of concern blinked in his dark pupils. “You’re yapping things again. More than usual.”

He shook his head and let out a huff instead, leaning back in his seat but avoiding eye contact.

Bucky didn’t even dare look to his left. His blond best friend had puppy dog eyes that could better be categorized as a death stare, because Bucky felt his heart stop anytime he caught that worried gaze.

“Hey, you okay?”

And there it was. Bleeding though his voice, there was that penetrating, inescapable attention of his childhood best friend.

“Hmm, yeah, I’m fine.” Bucky knew Steven wouldn’t be satisfied with any answer that was less than the truth, but how does one explain shadows at the edges of your vision, without actually knowing if they are your shadows? “Just having some trouble sleeping again.”

If these glimpses, these apparitions were real, they surely weren’t Bucky’s.

There was still a lot to unpack from Winter’s life, and Bucky didn’t even know if he wanted to open that bag. With all the erasing and reprogramming that the terrorist organization did, there were still new details making themselves known about dreams he thought he had already processed.

And, who is to say everything he comes across in his in brain is true?

Who is to say he is true?

Someone is living in his mind, and it isn’t him.

Despite the growing whispers his mind was giving him, he still didn’t know who you actually were. A silhouette, dancing around in his skull. He couldn’t even see your face, was only allowed a tempting blur, just out of his reach.

Either, his mind is actually at its end, or you are just another wiped piece of him, erased to better Winter, keep his focus on only the important stuff.

HYDRA had no use for distracted weapons.

Then again, it appeared the Winter Soldiers weren’t the only weapons HYDRA was putting their money on.

And if you really were one - a mutant - it would have increased the chances of Bucky meeting you. Working with you even, perhaps. He trained the five most dangerous super soldiers to possibly walk the earth, what were a few mutants?

Although, ‘a few’, was maybe the wrong wording, since he only hears you.

If you were real, that is.

Sitting crosslegged in a green field under the sun wasn’t exactly something his former handlers let him do.

A dream, then?

Bucky wasn’t sure Winter could dream.

“So, you still haven’t found anyone that could hold a possibility of being your mystery person?”

“No.”

“But, there are files missing, so there still is a chance they are very real.”

“I guess.”

“Perhaps, you question their realness, not because you doubt your own mind, but because you think you don’t deserve that glimpse of peace in between all the horror that you endured.”

He looked up again and sighed, shifting on the grey couch under her observing eye. Bucky hated being observed.

Of course, Dr. Reynor had a point. A point Bucky wished with all his heart to miss.

“From the things you have told me, James, this isn’t some delusion you are experiencing,” Reynor continued, ignoring his overdramatic eye roll. “Your brain is - no matter how much you don’t believe it - still very much intact.”

“Then why can’t I remember them?”

She looked at him for a few seconds, like she always did when she was reading him. It was childish of him to put up such attitude, he knew. Especially when, - despite all his denials - the conversations with his psychologist have actually helped him. It just so happened Bucky didn’t like talking.

“They’ll come. Give it time.”

Now more then ever did Bucky wish he didn’t have an age repellent serum coursing through his veins. Unfortunately, time is all he is.

“Why don’t you tell me about last night? You said you were dreaming again.”

He shrugged, looking out the window and keeping quiet. Raynor’s office was too high up to gaze down at the road, so all Bucky had were clouds. An occasional bird, maybe, but they didn’t bother staying long enough for him to know them.

She didn’t push, just waited. It made him uncomfortable, and pushed the bug up his lungs that forced him to fill the silence.

“‘T was, uh…” he started, not sure how to explain the curves of the ever growing river that swirled through his sleeping consciousness. “It was a different one. A dream. Not nightmare.”

She crossed her legs, left over right. The bottoms of her black colored heels were faded from long use. He thought he could see a faint outline of a dragon in the worn out sole, but then she shifted a bit, and he lost it.

“I don’t know exactly were it was, but it was outside.” Maybe if he could see better, remember more, he might be able to make out the city, or at least the country. “It was warm. They were talking.”

“Can you make out the date? Was it before or after HYDRA?”

“Not before,” he shook his head. “But not after, either.”

She made a face, waiting for him to give some clarification.

He couldn’t give her any.

His arm was starting to give that ache again. Her eyes followed his movements when he brought his right hand up to rub his shoulder.

“It was just a dream,” he shook his head again, convincing himself of his own words. A memory would be tainted with red.

“How are you sure?”

“Because it was peaceful.”

Amadeus Cho was a genius.

So much so, that he barged into Bucky Barnes’ assigned working room in the tower to throw a unthinkable thick map onto his desk, without regard for privacy. Bucky had already learned from Peter that teenagers just didn’t really have a tendency to knock.

“I got it!” he announced, an impossible gleam of pride in his dark brown eyes. “It was a fucking drag, but I got it!”

Bucky picked up the stack of papers (so heavy that it immediately flopped down on the one side he wasn’t holding), starting to feel a sense of urgency at Cho’s encouraging smile.

“Explain,” was all he muttered at the young genius, leafing very carefully through the map, like it held the secrets of the world.

For Bucky, it did.

“These are the exact documents they deleted,” Cho started, coming to stand behind Bucky to take a peek over his shoulder. “I checked with the box you guys took from the base, and these aren’t in there, either.”

“They took the papers ones, too? Why only these,” he was muttering to himself, eyes skimming over the words printed out.

Weapon fourteen. Alkali payments. Tests. Missions. Success.

He closed it again and focused his blues on the child wonder.

“Leave.”

At first, Bucky had wondered where Stark had gotten the courage to hire a literal child, wanting to ‘broaden this generation’s perspective on science with the privilege of working alongside a legend aka the Tony Stark’, but like seeks like Bucky guessed.

“Hey, I uncovered these for you,” the boy protested. “I wanna see where I threw away two whole nights for.”

“If you don’t leave, you're going to lose a whole lot more sleep.”

Amadeus didn’t know exactly what the super soldier was threatening with, but he did know it was wise to listen. And so he back paddles with his hands up in surrender. “Alright, fine, I’ll leave. Don’t need to thank me, or anything.”

He shuffled out the door, mumbling things Bucky couldn’t hear, but was certain was about him in a not so kind way.

“Thank you.” But the door was already closed again.

A. Cornelius.

Strucker.

Hot. Bare feet and dirty clothes. Crumbs between your teeth like ticks, sucking you dry, not letting you go, never alone. Hot, always so hot.

Light goes on, light goes off.

Thumping next to you, an elephant pacing. Shutting your eyes but you can still see.

On, off.

Your veins are dancing, blood is singing.

On, off.

From one room to the next, from Autumn to Spring to Summer.

Winter is there all year long.

The shining hurts your eyes but the red star moves. Loud, messy, deathly. He never shuts up.

On, off.

God rings the universe and a plate with food comes. Just for you.

Again you change rooms. There is a metallic sting in the air as you glide past the iron woods. Never in your life had you seen a red mop before, or was it black? Peculiar.

The sun hurts worse in these walls. You see the red star more often now.

They keep sweetening you up. Brave thing, good girl, success. Meine kleine Blitzschlag.

You tell it to keep quiet, but it never listens. It’s never silent, they are always scraping across your skin.

When the light goes off, so does your headache. It only settles as a dull graze. When the red star comes marching back in, is when its at its worst.

You screamed it at him once, but he only looked at you like a crow. Sharp eyes, head cocked. Hollow.

The lights went off with a bang, a meteorite falling for your extinction. There was no more dancing, no more grazing. Finally, silence.

He had screamed back. But it was on the ground, now. Suddenly, the star looked less menacing.

Hunched above it was a shadow, a silhouette of a man. The moaning continued, but the star was quiet now, no more than a piece of the sky, like everything else. It was nothing without the dark that it orbits around.

You had seen it as a good thing, a peaceful act. “But it is silent. All I ever want is for it to be silent.”

You sobbed when their anger struck you, punishing the dog for going after the rat.

Next day? week? and the star was back on its host again. Loud and messy and deathly.

[zignifier]

Wrt LRB sometimes I'm so baffled by what people bother to ask me because my charitable assumption will be an image in my mind of the results of a search query using keywords in that question and what failures may have occurred in the transfer of information and I'll start talking like "What did you search for this? When I used [keywords] the results seemed pretty self-explanatory." Or like idk. Baseline I'll assume they've read some Bullshit that comes up when u search something. There are multiple things in this world if you use the most self-evident english search queries for you will just get misinformation. So maybe then I'll start talking as to counter those points instead and they're sooo lost and I'm like ??? and they're like I didn't bother to look it up I didn't search for any texts on this subject. And I'm like. How the fuck can you expect me to have a conversation about this then? We have to like. Have a baseline of implicit assumptions of understanding to talk about this how do you not CARE about that???

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[eraserbread]

there's something in the air around you... your husband, nanami, notices it immediately ✧

→ pregnant!reader, panty-sniffer nanami, fingering, mentions of oral, suggestive content

perhaps it's a new perfume, but you never switched from the one he picked out. you've used the same detergent since you were a teenager and match body wash with him.

there hasn't been a change in your lifestyle at all. kento swears he's not crazy...

then, he thinks he might actually be because he's standing in front of the washer with your black silk panties pressed to his nose. you just took them off this morning, so your smell is fresh—mouthwatering—yet different—a good difference.

"ken, i've been dreaming about milk bread from that bakery in-" you're stepping into the room, arms crossed around your traditional robe. you took off your clothes to shower, and now he's nose-deep. "...what are you doing?"

"oh." he replies haphazardly, pretending like he didn't just get caught sniffing your panties. he tosses them in with the rest of the clothes. "yes, dear. milk bread sounds lovely. you know, they do sandwiches too-

"why were you... wait, you're sniffing my panties? are you okay?"

"oh," he repeats, looking down to the contained mess of dark clothes in the drum. "I know... it's odd... i was just wondering why your pheromones have been dipping recently." he turns to you, shutting the washer and leaning against the waist-height appliance. "have you been taking any new medications? no, right? i would know?"

you swallow silence, knowing exactly what he was sensing... and silly you, you know your husband is mystic and observational. you should really tell him about that positive pregnancy test you have hiding in the wardrobe.

now is not that time. you shake your head. "no..."

so, he nods you over. "come here, now. i've been stewing over the matter for a few days."

kento sits you on top of the purring washing machine after he turns it on, giving you a passing kiss as you settle. You still get so flustered with him, and it's heightened right now—you just caught him with a noseful of your most private garments, taking it in like it was flora.

"well, firstly i thought it might've been a new bodywash... but we share."

"mhm." you nod, lips pressing together as he pushes your legs open. under the robe you're completely naked, but the shadow keeps you decent. "'s not the bodywash."

"yes. then, i figured... well, it's more likely to be an internal change. i can smell it waft when you walk by."

"are you saying i stink?"

his eyes get dark. he's staring right into your soul. "no."

you're purring - a steady engine coming to life within you that matches the tremors of the wash cycle. between your thighs, he reaches for your familiar cunt, knowing right where to reach, where he should bypass, and the entirety of your shape. instead of teasing your clit, getting you ready for further stimulation, he slides his thick middle finger inside of you, buried to the hilt.

you take a breath, he cocks an eyebrow. "me smelling you like that... it didn't make you uncomfortable, did it?"

you're shaking your head immediately, reaching a hand to plant on his big, homey shoulder. he's hunching pretty far to get as close as possible, nose trailing over yours when he whispers.

"i don't... i don't even know what that means—mhmf." you squeeze your eyes shut, body twisting as he slips his pointer finger ring-deep inside of you. the shiny metal shocks your soul, twisting at your entrance as his digits stretch you sensually.

then, he chuckles. actually—real, rare. "good. i love you. all of you." he twists his fingers and pulls them out, drinking up your flustered gasps as he brings the glistening pair to his nose, taking a long sniff.

you're reacting like a fish out of water, opening and closing your lips as you try to make sense of it all. before two thoughts can connect, he's dragging those damp fingers to his lips, staring at you hotly as he takes them in his mouth.

he settles on a deep, throaty. "mmm..." cheeks hollowing around them like your taste is his favorite meal. "you're sweeter, too."

[parkersbliss]

you lock the 141 outside your house (I know my rights tiktok)

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x american!female reader 

synopsis: you lock them out of your (their?) house, claiming you "know your rights." based on a tiktok trend with soldiers.

warnings: none just fluff and humor :)))

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour and I think it's the funniest thing EVER thanks

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Ghost: 

You watch as your boyfriend gets out of his truck in the driveway. He grabs his bag from the passenger seat and makes his way to the front door, a smile twitching under his mask at the sight of you waiting for him. 

Just as he steps to the porch, you close the door and lock it. “I know my third amendment rights!”

Ghost stops at the door, dropping his bag. Rights? What were you talking about? “Your what?” 

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner,” You reply, reading off your phone. 

Ghost sighs. Third amendment? Of course, the one American he dates is the one that has them all memorized. You could probably recite them in your sleep. Patriotism, or whatever. Which makes zero sense. You were living with him in Manchester. If all went well and you got married, he was making sure he changed your status to British. 

“You fucking Americans.” He grabs the key from his bag, going to unlock the door only to find you locking it. “Are you serious?”

You show your phone at him through the glass, the third amendment displayed on a Google search. He stares back at you from his mask, unamused. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. 

You giggle from behind the door and give him a few more minutes before going to unlock it. You knew Simon’s limits. You only needed a few seconds of fun anyway, but by the time you unlock it, he’s gone. 

“Simon?” You call out, poking your head out the door and checking around the house. His truck was still there, so he didn’t turn back around. You don’t see any movements or even hear anything. Was he picked up by aliens? 

A thud sounds from behind you, and you yelp, shutting the door and turning around. 

Simon stands in front of you, arms crossed and his duffel bag on the floor.

“What the hell?” You said, looking him up and down. 

“I should be asking you that,” He retorts. “You should really lock your windows, love.” 

“Are you… did you climb through one?” 

“You locked me out.” 

“I went to unlock it!” 

“Third amendment rights, my arse.” He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. “We’re in England.” 

You shrug, tracing up his arm. “Thought it was funny.” 

Simon just sighs. “Americans.” 

Gaz: 

“Oh, hell no!” You exclaim as Gaz approaches the door. “I know my third amendment rights.” The lock clicks. 

“No fucking way,” Gaz said, strolling up to the glass storm door. 

“No soldiers in this home.” 

He stares at you, his hands on his hips and that signature scowl on his face. There was no way he was coming home to this bullshit right now. “Open the door.” 

“No quartering soldiers without my permission,” You replied. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. Your home? He was pretty sure his name was on the mortgage, even if you were living in it 90% of the time. “I own the fucking property! I live here. You’re the guest.” 

You shrug, grinning. “Not anymore.” 

He runs a hand down his face. Sometimes just sometimes he regrets finding your stubbornness so damn attractive.  “I’m going to crash out, actually.” 

“Crash outside? Yeah.”

“Let me in!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it. 

“No!” You shout back, holding onto it and preventing him from entering without your permission. 

Gaz leans against the glass. “Remind me why I chose to date an American?” 

You smile at him. “Because we’re funny, and we have better Chinese food.” 

He glares at you, trying to unlock the door again. He groans when there’s no avail. “Babe!” 

You say nothing, finding his annoyance quite amusing and a change of pace for once. 

And then he actually crashes out, grabbing the handle and pulling, twisting, pounding at it. He yells a string of curse words and then starts banging on the doorframe. He gives up, frowning, and leans his forehead on the glass. “Please?” 

You unlock it. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

He storms inside, throwing you over his shoulder. “You are so in for it.” 

“I like where this is going,” You giggle as he throws you on the couch. 

He raises a brow, hands coming to your waist. “Yeah?” He starts tickling you. You yelp, laughing under him and trying to push away. 

Gaz doesn’t relent and continues tickling you even after you’ve pleaded with him to stop. “You lock me out of my fucking claim it’s your right,” He mutters. “Consider this my very reasonable punishment.” 

Soap: 

“I know my rights!” You shout, watching Soap approach the door. 

He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. He had no idea what you said. The poor guy could barely hear from all the bombs going on around him, and you shout through a door? Good plan.  “What are you on about?” He asked. 

“There will be no soldiers in my home!” You close the glass door and lock it. 

He approaches the front door, staring at you through the glass. His expression is clueless, brows furrowed. “You mean our home?” He knocks on the glass. “Can I come in?” 

“Nope!” 

He frowns. “Why?” 

“Third amendment.” 

“Amendment?” He scoffs. What the hell are you talking about? Is this what he gets for dating an American? You start proclaiming your rights? What’s next, the pledge of allegiance? “Are you taking the piss? Does this look like the land of the free?” 

You giggle at him, his accent thickening with his frustration. “I’m still an American!” 

“Trust me, I know! Can I please come inside?” 

“No soldiers allowed.” You tape up a piece of paper displaying those words. 

Soap continues frowning at you and realizes he isn’t going to be let in anytime soon. It’s a good thing he knew how to easily change that. Americans and their rights. More like Americans and their feelings. He sits down on the porch steps, facing away from you, rests his chin in his hand, and sighs loudly. 

You don’t budge. 

He sighs again, kicking his boots on the porch, turning back at you with sad eyes. Still nothing. He concludes there was one last option to get you to let him in. He grabs his phone, and you watch with furrowed brows as he types something in. Suddenly, music is blasting from his phone as he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. Not just any music, but the sad hamster violin music. 

“Oh my god.” You unlock the door, opening it up to him. “You’re such a baby.” 

He practically skips inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Your baby.”

Price: 

Your husband stands on the porch, rolling his eyes at you.

“I know my rights!” You shout at him through the window. 

“Do you, now?” He asked, playing along with your prank or whatever this was. If it brought you this much amusement to lock him out, he might as well indulge in it. That was the kind of man he was. Until he started freezing of course, then he would demand you let him in. 

You nod your head. “As an American, amendment 3 of the Bill of Rights says that I don’t have to house you if I don’t want to.” 

Price hums. At least they taught you something in American schools. “Does that extend when you’re in another country?” 

“It does to me.” 

He huffs, grabbing something from his pocket and displaying it to you. “You know I have a house key, yes?”

“I’ll just lock it again.” 

He tilts his head at you. You were really trying to sell whatever rights you thought you had. “Really?” 

“I’m taking this very seriously.” 

Price strokes his beard. “I can see that.” An idea pops into his head, and he steps away from the glass and in front of the door. You didn’t want to let him in? That’s fine. You wanted to lock the door? No problem. He’s got methods of entering from being in the military, after all. “Guess I’ll just have to kick down the door.” He raises his foot, fully intent on doing it. You were going to repaint the door anyway, might as well get a new one. 

You swing open the door. “Are you crazy?” 

He strolls past you. “Did I lock you outside our home? Besides, crazy would’ve been bombing the house.” 

Your lips parted, unsure if he was joking. You assume he is, but his expression says otherwise. “Are you being serious?” 

He laughs at your face, grabbing your hand. “Only if you start proclaiming your rights again.”

You put your hands up. “What rights? Suddenly, I’m feeling like this soldier can stay as long as he likes.” 

Price presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thought so.” 

[manariee]

TEENAGE DIRTBAG

﹙混蛋﹚───── is riki really that irritated by you or perhaps is it your boyfriend ?

니시무라 리키 & fem!reader wc: 4693 cw: toxic relationships, rude riki, cheating (not reader), mention of inuries, mentions of smoking, light skinship, kissing

𝓜 anas notes: finally !! some of these were in my drafts for so long until i got a request from @woniefication MWAH THANK YOU

It was another day in Mr. Choi's history class, and you could already tell it was going to be a long one. The room was filled with the usual chatter of your classmates - the popular kids laughing obnoxiously at the back, the nerds trying to keep to themselves, and you, somewhere in the middle, just trying to get through another class.

You barely registered Mr. Choi’s lecture, too caught up in the swirling mess of your own thoughts. You were used to it now, the constant tension between you and your boyfriend, Jae. He was always in and out of your life, making empty promises that he never kept. He was the classic jerk - popular, arrogant. He had a way of making you feel like you were just another girl in his collection. You knew you should've ended it a long time ago, but his persistence, maybe even something else, however toxic it was - had worn you down.

But today, you weren’t thinking about Jae. Your thoughts were, as usual, drifting to the one person who was always present — Riki.

He was a few rows ahead of you, lounging in his seat in his usual cocky way. His black leather jacket was draped over the back of his chair, and his headphones rested around his neck. Riki was everything Jake wasn't - mysterious, musing, and undeniably attractive in a way that made you want to get closer, even though he was the last person you'd ever admit you were drawn to.

As Mr. Choi continued on, you noticed Riki glance toward you. His eyes lingered just a second longer than they should have, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something in his gaze. But then, as always, he quickly looked away. It was like he had this quiet fascination with you, but he was too proud to show it.

And that’s what pissed you off about him. He was just like Jae in the sense that he never gave a care about anyone, always too cool for school, playing the part of the ''bad boy.''

"Y/N," Mr. Choi's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back into the moment. "Care to tell the class the answer?"

You blinked, suddenly aware that everyone’s eyes were on you.

You hadn’t heard a word of the lesson.

Riki chuckled quietly from the front, the sound low and almost mocking. "I guess she's not paying attention. Typical."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as best as you could. "Sorry, Mr. Choi. Can you repeat the question?"

He sighed, clearly annoyed. "I said, what year did the Civil War end?"

"1865," you replied, without missing a beat.

"Correct," Mr. Choi muttered, before turning back to his lecture.

As class continued, Riki's eyes were on you again, just out of your line of vision. You hated how his attention made your heart race, even though you’d never admit it out loud. Riki was trouble. The kind of trouble you didn’t need in your life. You already had enough with Jae

But that didn't stop you from noticing him every chance you got. You couldn’t help but wonder - if he’d ever stop pretending to be so mean, what would he be like? Was he really the jerk everyone said he was, or was it just a act?

The bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grabbed your things and hurried out of the classroom, avoiding eye contact with Riki as best as you could.

The bell rang, signaling the end of another class. You shuffled through your papers, gathering your stuff, hoping for a peaceful exit. The tension from the gaze of Riki from yesterday still lingered, but you figured it was just another day. Another day of dealing with the mind games that seemed to follow you everywhere.

You were on your way out of class when you heard the sound of shoes shuffling on the floor behind you.

Of course, you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. But you kept walking, pretending you didn’t notice him following you down the hallway.

"Where’s your boyfriend?" Riki’s voice cut through the silence, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did he finally get tired of you?"

You kept your eyes straight ahead, the words stinging more than they should. He had a way of pushing buttons that made you want to snap, but you kept your cool.

"He’s busy," you muttered, not bothering to explain further.

Riki snorted. "Yeah, I bet he’s busy with some other girl. He’s a real prize, huh?" His voice was laced with mockery, but there was something almost... too pointed about it.

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "What do you care?" you shot back, glancing at him.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something — was it amusement? Frustration? It was hard to tell. He leaned against the locker, crossing his arms. "Just curious," he said, shrugging. "Wouldn’t want you to get too attached to a loser like him. He’s not even worth the breath you waste on him."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?"

Riki raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "What’s the matter, huh? Can’t handle a little truth?" His words were like a jab to your chest. The way he looked at you, like you were some kind of puzzle he was trying to solve, made your stomach twist with confusion.

You felt a wave of frustration hit you. "You don’t know anything about me," you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

"Do I not?" Riki’s voice dropped to a low, almost dangerous tone. He was standing right in front of you now. His eyes glinted with something unreadable. "I know enough."

Before you could respond, Riki pushed himself off the locker and turned, as if the conversation was over. "You’re just another girl caught up in a bad relationship. No different from all the others."

"Yeah, well, maybe I’ll get tired of it," you muttered under your breath. "Maybe I’ll just walk away."

Riki’s smirk deepened as he glanced back over his shoulder. "Wouldn’t surprise me. You don’t seem the type to stick around when things get real."

You gritted your teeth, fists clenched. He was right about one thing — you were done with Jae, and maybe... maybe you were done with Riki’s games too.

"You think you know me?" you said, your voice cold. "You don’t. So keep your opinion to yourself."

Riki only glanced with a intense gaze, before walking off, leaving you there, heart racing with frustration.

But even as you were mad, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe — just maybe — he wasn’t wrong.

The circle of friends was loud — someone passed around a bag of chips, someone else was retelling a story that probably wasn’t as funny as everyone made it. Laughter echoed through the group, but your smile was forced. You sat close to Jae, his arm casually slung over your shoulder like it was some kind of ownership tag.

You tried not to roll your eyes at his touch, but it felt heavier than usual. He leaned in, whispered something into your ear — probably a bad joke or some half-assed compliment — and laughed like he was so charming.

Across the group, you caught Riki watching.

He sat slouched in a chair, legs stretched out, rings glinting under the string lights. His expression was unreadable — the perfect mask of disinterest — but his eyes told another story.

You could feel the way they trailed over Jake’s arm around your shoulders, the way they narrowed ever so slightly when Jake brushed a thumb along your collarbone. Riki wasn’t saying a word, but he didn’t have to.

His stare said everything.

You tried not to look at him too long, but it was magnetic. You glanced back, just for a second, and met his eyes.

Big mistake.

His gaze locked onto yours, sharp. His jaw clenched, his tongue poked the inside of his cheek in that cocky, irritated way he always did when he was holding something back. A smirk ghosted across his face — bitter, amused.

Jae didn’t notice a thing. He just leaned closer, voice louder now, trying to dominate the conversation. '' You cold, babe?'' he asked, loud enough for the others to hear. '' You’re kinda tense.''

You laughed lightly, brushing him off. '' I’m fine.''

But Riki was still watching.

His fingers drummed against his knee, his eyes not moving once from the two of you. Then he spoke — finally.

'' You're pretty good at pretending'' he said, low and smooth, like a threat carefully prepared.

Everyone paused. The conversation hiccupped. A few heads turned. Someone chuckled awkwardly, thinking he was just being edgy. But you knew better.

Your eyes snapped to him.

''What’s that supposed to mean?'' you asked, tone sharper than you meant it to be.

He just raised a brow and tilted his head. '' Nothing. Just an observation. Didn’t mean to ruin the moment.''

Jae scoffed. ''You good, bro? Sounding a little bitter.''

Riki grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ''Nah, just bored.''

And with that, he leaned back and looked away — but not before shooting you one last glance. The kind that made your stomach twist. The kind that said: You know I’m right.

You looked down at Jae's hand still on you and suddenly, it felt even heavier.

The metro was packed, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, heat and noise filling every inch of space — except the one between you and Riki.

He stood inches from you, one hand gripping the rail above your head, eyes locked on yours like the chaos around you didn’t exist. No smirk this time. No teasing.

Just that look.

Heavy. Quiet. Intense.

Your breath caught as the train jolted, bringing you even closer. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just kept watching like he was trying to read your thoughts — or bury his own.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

Neither of you said a word.

Didn’t need to. His eyes were loud enough.

And when the train screeched into the next stop, he still didn’t look away — not until the doors opened, and you both pretended nothing happened.

But it did.

God, it did.

The school rooftop was your only escape.

Hardly anyone ever came here, afterall, it was a old forgotten place. You’d started sneaking up there between classes just to breathe.

The rooftop was your escape - until today.

You pushed open the heavy door and froze.

Riki was already there, leaned against the low concrete wall, cigarette dangling from his fingers, smoke curling lazily in the breeze. His eyes flicked up at the sound of the door creaking, and for once, he didn’t have that stupid smirk on his pretty face.

''Seriously?'' you muttered. ''You’ve got the whole damn school to haunt. Why here?''

He shrugged, taking a slow drag. ''Didn’t realize you had it reserved.''

You walked to the far side, trying to ignore his stare — the way it always dug under your skin. But today, you snapped.

''You've got some nerve, you know that?'' you said sharply, turning on him. ''You follow me around like some smug parasite, making those cryptic comments, for what? To make me miserable?

He blinked slowly. ''If I’m making your life worse, you’re doing a pretty damn good job of sticking around for it.''

Your fists clenched. ''You’re unbelievable.''

He scoffed, flicking the cigarette. ''Why? Because I don’t lie to you? Because I don’t play sweet like your golden boy boyfriend?''

You stepped toward him, fury bubbling up from your chest. ''Don’t talk about Jae.''

''I’ll talk about whoever the hell I want,” Riki shot back. “Especially the guy who treats you like garbage and gets away with it because you’re too scared to leave.''

That hit hard. Too hard.

''You don’t know anything about me,'' you hissed, your voice shaking.

''I know enough,'' he said, stepping forward. ''I know you act like none of this bothers you. I know you date losers because it’s easier than admitting you don’t know what you want. And I know you look at me like you hate me — but you haven’t stopped looking away, have you?''

Your breath caught.

''You’re such an self absorbed asshole','' you whispered. ''You say all this crap like you know me, like you’re better than him. But you’re not. You’re just meaner. Colder. At least he pretends to care.''

That did something. His jaw tightened.

He stepped even closer, now barely inches away, his voice low and sharp. ''You think I don’t care?'' he spat. ''You think this is easy for me? Watching you run back to him every time he screws up? Watching you let him walk all over you when-''

''When what, Riki?'' you challenged, heart pounding. ''What, you’d treat me better? Between all your insults and dirty looks, where exactly was the part where I was supposed to feel wanted?''

Silence.

The wind whipped around you, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Then he muttered, almost too quietly, ''I never wanted to want you.''

Silence. Your heart dropped. This wasn't a joke?

''I push you away,'' he said quietly, ''because if I didn’t, I’d be too close.''

You swallowed, hard. For a second, neither of you spoke. And then—

''Don’t,'' you said, voice barely above a whisper. ''Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.''

Riki stepped back like the moment had burned him, but he didn’t take it back.

He looked at you like he did.

And for once, didn’t hide it.

Your phone buzzed twice, then again. The third time, you finally checked it.

Jae. Another girl. His hands all over her, lips tangled, right there in the corner of some dim party room.

Reactions flooded in - shock, laughing emojis, ''omg''s, and ''yo wtf''s - but you just stared at the screen, thumb frozen over your phone. Your stomach twisted, but not out of surprise.

You were used to this part. The disappointment. The quiet, dull ache that never really left.

No message from him. No explanation. Not that you were expecting one. You’d been waiting - waiting for him to end it, to at least have the decency to say it to your face. But maybe this was it.

You sighed, slow and tired, and threw your phone across the room.

Grabbing your jacket, you pulled it over your shoulders. It hung heavy. Your legs were bare under your skirt, and the cold air bit at your skin the second you stepped outside. You didn’t care. The numbness was louder than the wind.

The sky was dark, thick with clouds. A silence hung in the empty streets, broken only by the crunch of gravel under your shoes.

Then you heard it — a low, familiar rumble cutting through the stillness. A motorcycle.

You paused, looking up just as it came closer, headlights flashing briefly in your direction. The bike slowed, coming to a stop a few feet away. The rider pulled off his helmet, and there he was.

Riki.

Hair messy from the helmet, brows pulled together in something dangerously close to concern.

His eyes scanned you — the jacket thrown hastily over your outfit, the bare legs, the way you weren’t even pretending to be okay.

''You shouldn’t be out here like this,'' he said, voice low but cutting through the quiet.

You didn’t respond right away. Just tucked your arms tighter around yourself, eyes fixed on some point over his shoulder.

''Guess Jae finally did me a favor,'' you muttered.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t need to. Whatever had happened, he’d clearly already heard.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stood there, one hand still on the bike, the other flexing by his side like he didn’t know what to do with it.

Then, softer, ''You want a ride?''

You looked at him.

The part of you that would usually roll your eyes or spit something defensive was quiet now. You were too tired to fight. Too cold to pretend.

So you nodded.

And for the first time that night, you felt a little less alone.

Jae hadn’t even read your text.

We’re over. Sent at 11:42 p.m. last night

And yet there he was again the next day, strutting down the corridor as if you had done something wrong, gaze intense, jaw tight and fists clenched.

You’d been laughing at something one of your friends said, just a passing joke — harmless, light. But Jae didn’t see that. Or didn’t want to.

''What the hell is this?'' he snapped, voice sharp and too loud, drawing a few glances from nearby students.

You turned slowly, spine straightening. ''What are you talking about?''

''You’re out here, all over other guys, are you cheating on me?'' he accused.

You wanted to laugh, bitter and sad. But you didn’t.

''Cheating?'' you repeated, raising an eyebrow. ''Jae, you cheated on me. I saw the picture. The picture that got sent around.''

His face went pale for a moment before turning bright red with rage.

''That’s not the same thing,'' he hissed, fists clenching. ''You think I care about some stupid—''

''You care about it now, don’t you?'' you shot back, voice rising. ''You don’t even know how to break up with someone, so you just-'

Your words were cut short as he shoved your arm aside, stepping into your space, furious. His hand was raised, the tension in the air thick and crackling with something dark.

Before you could even react, someone moved fast from the side. Riki.

He appeared in a swift motion, stepping between you and Jae with a sharpness that cut through the tension.

He stood there, tall and confident, his posture straight, his eyes dark but calm, locking with Jae’s. ''You better lower your hand,''

Jae blinked, caught off guard, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to step in. ''What are you doing, Riki?'' he snarled.

Riki didn’t flinch. ''What the hell do you think you’re doing?'' he replied, voice low but heavy with something dangerous. ''Because this? This is crossing a line.''

You thought it was over.

Jae had stormed off after Riki stepped in, and you’d figured that’d be the end of it.

But oh boy were you wrong.

A few days later, you found yourself sitting in the school nurse's office, frowning down at Riki’s face.

''Seriously, Riki?'' you said, irritation rising as you grabbed a cotton ball and dabbed it into disinfectant. ''You couldn’t just walk away, could you?''

He winced when you dabbed the cotton over the cut lip. "I'm fine," he growled, trying to be cool like it was nothing, but you caught the way his jaw tightened, the minute tension on his shoulders giving him away.

''No, you’re not fine,'' you shot back, carefully applying bandages. ''You got yourself hurt because you couldn’t let him walk away with it. What were you trying to prove?''

Riki just smiled weakly, but it never quite made it to his eyes. "Maybe I was proving something to you.".

''You’re lucky I’m not slapping you,'' you grumbled, trying to hold back the anger that kept creeping in. ''You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you just walk away from Jae?''

He didn’t answer at first, his eyes locked on your hands as you worked. Then, quietly, he said, ''Because you’re worth it.''

You stood there, frozen, the words cutting you harder than they had any right to. You glared at him, but he didn't look at you. Instead, his eyes were fixed over your shoulder, face expressionless.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper now. "Why do you say things like that if you don't mean them?''

"I never said I didn't mean them," he replied, his eyes locking on you then, his eyes darkening from earlier. There was something there, something unspoken between the two of you.

You didn’t know what to say. The moment hung thick in the air, the tension palpable.

''Alright, you’re done,'' you muttered, pulling away. You grabbed a bandage and wrapped it around his arm, trying to keep your hands steady. ''Don’t get yourself into more trouble.''

Riki just nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was a slight curve to his lips that almost looked like a smile. ''You always say that, but I think you’re the one who’s gonna get into trouble if you keep hanging around me.''

You didn’t answer. Instead, you finished bandaging him up and turned to leave, but then you stopped and glanced over your shoulder.

''You still owe me an explanation,'' you said, voice quieter now.

He raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. ''Maybe. But some things are better left unsaid.''

With that, he stood up, and for the first time in days, you weren’t sure where either of you stood.

The silence between you was thick, but it didn’t feel as awkward as it should. Maybe it never had.

It was late.

Most of the school was dark, except for the faint buzz of lights in the empty classroom — the one you found him in.

Riki sat on the windowsill, notebook balanced on his knee. His hood was down for once, hair messy, head tilted like he didn’t hear you come in.

You hesitated at the doorway.

“You break in?” you asked softly, lips twitching.

He didn’t look up. “Didn’t need to. Left the window open last time.”

You stepped inside, slow and quiet, watching the way his pencil moved across the page — steady, focused, way more careful than anyone would guess. “What are you even writing?”

Riki finally looked over, gaze catching yours, lingering a second too long. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed the room until you were beside him, peeking at the notebook. “Let me see.”

He shifted it just slightly away from your view. “Nope.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Afraid I’ll see all the little hearts with my name in them?”

That actually got a small laugh out of him. “You wish.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable in a way it hadn’t always been. You leaned against the window next to him, arms crossed, your shoulder brushing his. Neither of you moved.

After a minute, you said, quieter, “You know... prom’s coming.”

Riki glanced at you. “So I’ve heard.”

“You thinking of going?”

He paused, then shrugged. “Only if there’s a reason to.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering with something you didn’t want to name yet. “What if there was?”

He looked at you again, eyes darker now — focused. “Are you trying to ask me something, or just over the edge?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “...Maybe both.”

He smiled — just barely — and looked away, back out the window like he needed a second to cool off whatever just passed between you.

You didn’t say anything else. Neither did he. You just stayed there, shoulder to shoulder, both pretending you weren’t waiting for the other to make a move.

And you didn’t know it then, but that was the moment you’d end up thinking about when you finally gave him those tickets.

The moment when almost was already everything.

Prom was coming up.

Every hallway was plastered with glittery posters and cheesy hashtags. People were buzzing with dates and dresses and afterparty plans. You’d told yourself you didn’t care — that it was overrated, dramatic, not your thing.

But then there was Riki.

And the fact that despite all the tension, all the biting comments and late-night moments that felt way too close, he hadn’t asked anyone. He hadn’t even mentioned it.

So when you saw him leaning against his usual spot by the back stairwell, headphones around his neck, hood half-up like he was trying not to exist — you decided.

You walked up, heart thudding stupidly hard, something clutched behind your back.

He looked up at you with that lazy gaze, one brow quirking. “What?”

You cleared your throat. “I, um… I got something.”

Riki blinked, a little amused already. “For me?”

You pulled your hand around and held it out — two folded pieces of paper. “Concert tickets.”

He looked down at them, then back at you, waiting.

“They’re for a night before prom,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I figured, it'd be weird to not have dates, so we could use these as an opportunity to get closer and not be so awkward togehter at prom - because like mabye we could go as a pair?”

Something flickered in his expression — surprise, interest, maybe even something softer.

You hurried to add, “I mean, unless you were planning to not go. Or already have a date. Or—”

“Are you asking me out?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing with a half-smile.

You faltered. “I—what? No. I mean yes. Kinda. Not like that, just—”

He stepped closer, just a bit, enough that you could see the amusement tugging at his lips. “You could’ve just said you wanted to go with me. You didn’t have to bribe me with front-row tickets.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m trying to be nice here, you absolute jerk.”

Riki laughed — a real one, low and warm. Then he took the tickets from your hand, carefully, like they were something rare.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

You blinked. “Just like that?”

He shrugged. “You’ve been making moves on me for weeks. I was wondering how long it’d take you to admit it.”

Your jaw dropped. “I have not—”

“You literally patched me up in the nurse’s office like a rom-com lead,” he teased, tucking the tickets into his back pocket. “It was very touching.”

You shoved his shoulder, cheeks burning. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “No, you don’t.”

And as he turned to walk beside you, hands in his pockets, you kind of hated that he was right.

It happened weeks after prom.

You were both sitting on the bench after yet another date. Heart lighter than it'd had been in weeks. The streetlamps cast a soft glow on Riki’s face as he leaned back on his palms, gaze tilted up toward the sky.

It was quiet. Calm. The kind of peace that usually didn’t last long with him.

Then he spoke.

“So,” he said, almost too casually. “Are you gonna keep pretending this isn’t a thing? Or are you finally gonna let me call you my girl?”

You turned to look at him, heartbeat stumbling in that annoying way it did whenever he got serious. “You’re asking me out?”

“I’m saying,” he drawled, “officially, that I want this. You. No games, no half-truths. Just us. If you want it, too.”

You stared at him, trying not to smile too hard, trying not to let him see how much that meant — how much he meant.

“Okay,” you said softly. “On one condition.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Condition?”

You nodded. “You stop smoking.”

That actually made him pause.

Then he laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “You know,” he said, “that day on the rooftop? The cigarette?” He glanced over at you, smirking a little. “It was fake.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Dead serious. I wasn’t even smoking. It wasn’t lit. I just... thought it looked cool.” He shrugged, clearly a little embarrassed now. “I was trying to seem badass. Impress you or something.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

He held up a hand. “Swear on my life. It was literally just for show. Didn’t even inhale. I nearly choked.”

You burst out laughing, the image too perfect — Riki, fake-smoking to get your attention, acting like he didn’t care when he clearly did.

“Alright,” you said, still smiling. “Then yeah. I’ll be your girl.”

He leaned in, face close, grin tugging at his lips. “Finally pretty.”

And when he kissed you — soft, careful, like he was making a promise — you believed him.

Because

Riki had proved he wasn't like Jae or any other guy.

He was willing to change. To let go of that stupid image.

For you, his Y/N.

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @fleurhoons

[all4yoi]

𝒥ust a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ︎︎⚹︎ cw: angst, no fluff (yet), reader is mostly viewed as a loser and nerd, lowercase intended, kinda went overboard with hoon's, reader gets called a bitch once, not proofread!

synopsis﹕after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.

part two !

★ LEE HEESEUNG (wc 0.3k)

you and lee heeseung has been dating for a total of five months, and throughout those months you can confidently say that you were the happiest. he was the perfect boyfriend, his family loved you and so did yours.

today, heeseung promised he would take you on a date after his basketball practice despite your protests on how he should be resting instead. you wouldn't have agreed if it weren't for the fact that he had shot you with his pleading big doe eyes that never fails to make you agree on whatever he asks for. 

so here you were, making your way towards the gymnasium with your bag hanging on your left shoulder. the lack of dribbling and smacking basketball noise from behind the closed doors told you that their practice was done.

entering quietly out of habit, you were about to approach your boyfriend when you overheard his teammates talking to him.

"don't tell me you're still with her?" asked one of boys, an amused smile on his face. heeseung only raised a brow.

"what? you won the bet, you can dump her now. you're ruining our image you know? plus she's a total nerd and loser, you're much better with someone like yunhee." and with only just a few words, you felt your world crashing down.

right, who would date someone like you? you always found it weird, that heeseung just approached you one day in your biology class with the cheekiest smile on his face. the fact that he wouldn't leave you alone until you've agreed to go on a date with him. it all made sense now, why the popular basketball captain suddenly gained interest on the school's "biggest nerd."

"speaking of.." another guy spoke, nodding towards you with a cheeky smile. heeseung turned around only to be met with your glassy eyes.

you didn't move, wanting to hear him defend you. wanting to tell his teammates that you weren't a bet and he actually liked you throughout the months you two have been dating.

his silence said everything and with that you turned away and ran out of the gym.

"shit." he muttered, running after you.

★ PARK JONGSEONG (wc 0.3k)

"i'll pick you up later, okay?" your boyfriend of almost a year said softly through the phone. you've been dating jay since the first week of your first year in uni, others found your relationship weird. maybe because back in high school, jay never and refused to even spare you a glance. he was an asshole who looked at you as if you were the epitome of disgusting.

but the past is in the past now, right?

"okay baby, see you." you reply and put your phone down on your table, knowing that he's usually the one who ends the call.

you go back to the papers scattered on your table. the silence in your room was disturbed by sudden noises in your phone, turning to look, you see that jay hasn't ended the call.

picking your phone up with a smile, you were about to call out for him but a voice stopped you.

"i can't believe you've gone this far dude." you recognized the slightly muffled voice, it was a friend of jongseong's.

"what do you mean?" your boyfriend grumbled. the audio was muffled, you figured he was moving and the phone was in his pocket.

"you're still dating her!" the voice exclaimed, as if amused. "seriously, i didn't think you'd take that bet seriously. fine you win, i'll clean your car for a month. but you've gotta cut it out, you're starting to disgust me." the boy laughed.

before you could hear what your boyfriend would say, you ended the call. your hand was trembling and tears were falling from your eyes unconsciously.

were all those months just a joke to him? were your feelings really worth a free car wash for just a month? were you that unworthy?

jay was an asshole back in high school, you thought he changed. turns out he didn't, you felt like a fool for falling for his antics.

★ SIM JAEYUN (wc 0.3k)

if someone would be asked who you were, they'd all say the same thing. a loner, pathetic loser, and a nobody with a pretty face.

because what was a pretty face if you had no friends and a social life?

you almost believed you would die alone, you were too socially awkward to make friends. so when sim jaeyun, the transferee, approached you with a warm smile and a hand outstretched for a shake, you were beyond shocked.

your relationship went from being block mates, friends, then next thing you knew you two were dating. at first you were reluctant to enter a relationship, scared that it would ruin your friendship, but he insisted you both tried. that was three months ago.

you didn't have any friends, but atleast you had jake.

jake who smiles at you as if you had carved the stars in your hands. jake who would never forget to bring your coffee every morning. he was everything you ever needed. he was it for you, you only hoped he felt the same towards you.

walking through the hallway of the school, you stopped infront of your locker only to be met with a sticky note on it.

HOW LONG CAN JAKE LAST WITH LOSER L/N?

A WEEK : 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - III

FIVE MONTHS : 卌 - I

A YEAR : II

Furrowing your brows, you stare at the note as your breathing grew heavy. It was obvious that the paper was old, it had folds and it was only stuck on your locker with a washi tape.

"what are you doing l/n? go on, cast your vote." a mocking voice said from beside you followed by a bunch of laughter. "personally, i thought he'd last a day. i guess i'll vote for five months then." then the hand went and tallied on the five months category.

"what's going on here?" upon hearing your boyfriend's voice, you fled away immediately, not wanting to face him. everytime something good happens in your life, it's always ripped away from you. jake was just like them, you were just a toy for their own entertainment.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (wc 0.5k)

"i'm sorry baby, i really am busy with practice tomorrow." your boyfriend, sunghoon, says in genuine sorry. it was the fifth time you have asked him to meet your parents, who also by the way was so desperate to meet the boy you've been dating for seven months now.

every time you ask him, he's always busy. either with practice, a project, a family matter, or whatever excuse he can come up with. but you always brush it off, knowing he means well and he really is busy as he's an athlete student.

"i'll meet them next week, okay? i promise." that's also the same thing he says everytime too, and once again, you only nod in response.

you and sunghoon met in a physics class. he was clutching his head with a frown on his face as he desperately tried to understand what the professor was going on about.

you remember clearly the way he approached you in the library, a physics book on his left hand as his right scratched his nape. "can.. i noticed- uh, can you help me with this topic?"

that was where your relationship started. you tutored him and helped him improve his grade. when he got an A on the finals, he kissed you on the lips in glee. he was taken aback by his own actions but nevertheless asked you out after.

"i love you," he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. "let me get something from my room." you hum in response as he takes his arm that was previously wrapped around you before going up to his room.

you can't help but notice the way his phone was blowing up from beside you.

you weren't the type to snoop around other people's phones, especially your boyfriend. it just felt wrong, you trusted him fully. but the way it kept ringing with text notifications, you just couldn't help it.

looking back to the stairs, you note he isn't back and there was still rummaging noises from his room.

taking his phone, you enter his passcode and read the messages from one of his group chats.

JONGSU

lol don't tell me she asked again.. em ba rrah sing

DAEHYUN

hahah when is she gonna take a hint?? 💀

JOON

you gonna blame her? hoon's been at it for months lmao

DAEHYUN

i actually can't believe he went that far, wasn't it only supposed to be for a month? 🗿

JONGSU

a week actually, but ig that bitch y/n was so easy. yk hoon likes to get his ego fed 💀💀

putting the phone down, you exhaled in disbelief. you took your bag from the floor and threw it over your shoulder and went to the door of his apartment to put your shoes back on.

"baby?" sunghoon emerged from the stairs, looking at you curiously. "you're going already?" he asked, extending an arm towards you but you slapped it away. the tears on your eyes shocking him.

"hey, hey what's wrong?" he tried again but his hand was yet again slapped away.

"i don't want to see you ever again." was the last words you uttered to him (shakily) before leaving his apartment.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw implication, enemies to lovers, kinda bitchy reader,

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about the poor college boy who’s struggling to get used to dorm life and his loud neighbor who isn’t making matters any better.

He has never been shy about telling someone off. People should have the common decency not to blast their infernal music so loud that the entire dorm shakes. And you, whoever you may be, are no exception—he thinks while pounding on your door with his fist. Fuck knows if you can even hear him over your speakers.

But lo and behold and despite all odds, you open up.

“Excuse me, can you turn it down?” His words might be polite, but his voice is anything but—glaring down at you… who quickly turned out to be a girl… 

Yeah, definitely not the idiot ass-hat with the shitty body odor he was expecting. But a pretty girl in a short tank top without a bra and booty shorts so tight and short he would think you’d bought them ten years ago.

“It’s eight?” You raise your brow at him, face otherwise dull.

Okay, so you weren't what he was expecting. And sure, it might make his throat a little tight, among other things. But still, he not going to let it change anything. 

“Yeah, I’m tryna study.” 

That was a lie. He was actually about to go to bed. But he wasn’t about to tell you that. Judging by the way you were looking at him, he’d say you’d just laugh and slam the door in his face. Maybe even turn the volume up to spite him.

Not that telling you he was studying was any better.

“There’s something called a library for that sorta thing,” you drawl.

He’s right—you’re the sardonic type. There’s usually no use fighting with people like you, but still, he must stand his ground and insist, “Yeah, well, I prefer my room.”

You reply in kind, smiling now with a short excuse for a laugh, “Oh, what do you know, me too.”

You’re a little hard to read. That felt like sarcasm, but it wasn’t all that easy to tell. He’s mostly certain you couldn't care less, but at the same time, you’d humored him this long. So, maybe…

“You’ll turn it down then?”

As expected. You just laugh and shut the door in his face.

He stands there for a moment. You must be blowing your eardrums sitting in there. He thinks about knocking again, maybe dropping some of the politeness this time and demanding you turn it down.

But he ends up going back to his room. He decides then to wait another hour, thinking you might come to your senses despite your poor attitude. But at zero point, do you turn your music down by even a single lousy notch. 

Lying in his room, he’s hoping someone else might come by and tell you off. That maybe then you’d listen.

But a couple more minutes later, he realizes he can’t wait for that to happen and decides to test his luck again. Abruptly springing from his bed, he marches over to your room. Doing as he did last time, nearly kicking your door in with his banging.

“Oh my god, dude, what is your problem!?” you bark once seeing him.

And his eye nearly twitches in turn. “My problem? Really? You’re one to talk!”

You gape at him, both glaring at the other. 

“It’s eight-thirty. What? Is it your bedtime or something?”

“No. But I would appreciate it if I could hear myself think in my own room!”

“Oh? Well, maybe you should call your mommy and cry about it!”

Again, all you do is slam the door in his face. However, this time, you skip the laugh and settle for a simple yet efficient grimace that lets him know you’ll not be answering the door again.

Several days pass. He caved and invested in a pair of noise-canceling headphones. But still, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he wanted. But suppose that wasn’t all your fault. To be honest, he’d probably be struggling either way, with or without your music. It’s not easy living in a new place. 

It’s lonely, too.

But that can’t be helped. At least not for him. He’s not too good at trying to make friends. And yet, there’s someone at the door. 

Three firm knuckle knocks let him know. But who it might be is anyone’s guess. Still, he begrudgingly answers.

“Oh… so this is you, huh…” 

It’s you—the hot but nasty girl next door, wearing that same pair of shorts he’s been thinking about every day without wanting to. 

You don’t seem too pleased to see him either, even when you’d been the one to knock. 

“Ugh…” You look around, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly before gritting your teeth and finally mustering up enough gall to actually spit out what you’d come there for. “You wouldn’t happen to have a screwdriver or something?”

This time, it’s him who raises his eyebrow. “Or something?” he repeats. “What would that be exactly?”

You scoff then, about to leave, grumbling out, “Never mind–” but he interjects before you’re fully turned around.

“Wait there.” 

It’s to both of your surprise when he disappears into his room.

He isn’t gone long before he’s back with a screwdriver. 

“Here.”

You don’t say anything, just rudely rush to grab it without even looking at him, but when you pull it to yourself, you’re pulled back, stuck to the same spot. He holds onto the other end, looking you right in your shocked eyes.

“You know, it’s customary to say thank you when someone does something for you.”

You look flushed—a little chagrined, maybe—but ultimately, you can’t really argue with it, mumbling out a bitter “Thanks.”

He smiles then, chuckles even. Not nicely. Smugly. 

Admittedly, it’s not his best moment, but who can blame him? You haven’t exactly been so nice yourself. Right now, he can tell you almost feel like rejecting his offer altogether, but that refusing at this point would be too petty so you just have to grin and bear it. 

It’s actually kind of cute.

“Bring it back once you’re done,” he says, then lets go of you, and off you go, nearly stomping away.

He goes back to studying, shaking his head at you. You can’t have many friends either with that attitude. Suppose you have that in common.

Sometime later there’s a frustrated scream coming from the other room. Then, the sound of a door handle roughly getting yanked, someone storming down the short distance of the corridor before throwing his door open unannounced.

“Your useless screwdriver isn’t doing its stupid job!” you yell in a whine, almost throwing the tool at him where he sits by his desk. It lands in his bed next to him instead.

You look utterly disheveled at this point. Dewy-faced and frustrated, hair a total mess and even hotter still. It’s really unfair. How come a bitchy brat like you looks like that, even when you’re a wreck? It shouldn't be allowed.

“I highly doubt it’s the screwdriver's fault. You positive it’s the useless one?”

This time, you just growl without words before turning on your heel, about to stomp out the same way you’d arrived—but again, he finds himself stopping you for whatever reason he still can’t understand.

“Wait.” He gets up from his chair and picks up the screwdriver you’d chucked. “Le’mme have a look.”

You shake your head with a scoff, “No way. I’m not letting you in my room.”

“You didn’t seem so reserved when you came barging into mine.” Ignoring you, he walks straight past you.

“Wait–” you protest, but he doesn't bother. 

He just opens your door and reveals the breakdown you’d had just earlier. Having but one word to ascribe to the scene.

“Wow.”

Suppose you were both in your own right struggling with acclimating to dorm life…

“It’s not my fault I’m not a carpenter or whatever. The instructions said it was simple,” you excuse the mess of planks and screws and bits all belonging to your unassembled wardrobe among all the clothes that are meant to be in it. “They lied.”

He scratches his neck, feeling a little bad for you despite everything. This would take anyone over an hour—probably even more, to be honest. Even if you managed on your own, you’d have a hard time pushing it into place. Not that it’s any of his business. But hey… if he played his cards right, maybe he could get something out of this in the end.

“Alright. I’ll make you a deal,” he says then, folding his arms upon his chest while looking down at you. “I’ll set this up for you.” He leans down, that same smug smile from before plastered on his face as he comes with his condition, “If you promise to lower your music after eight.”

Honestly, with your looks, you could probably knock on just about anyone else's door and ask for their help instead. They probably wouldn’t ask anything in return. But hey, can’t blame a guy for trying.

And to his surprise, you actually seem to think about it. Maybe you’re one of those girls without a clue. You even do this cute thing where you chew your lip in thought, a furrow between your brows. 

You look up at him when you’re finished. “Ten.”

You’re bargaining with him now? He was expecting you to say something like fat chance. But no, you’re really that desperate.

He thinks about agreeing but then doesn’t. No, it might be a little scummy of him, but since he’s gotten this far, he might as well keep the act up and stand his ground. 

“Eight,” he insists.

And you’re face scrunches as you fold, going down to “Nine.”

But no, following the same logic that had worked for him up until now, he still doesn’t budge. “Eight.”

You purse your lips, and he thinks he’s blown it, that you’re just about ready to bark at him to get the fuck out. But you don’t. Instead, you become even cuter. Giving in with a sigh, “Okay, fine.”

He honestly can’t believe it. Though his face shows no shock, he’s dumbfounded on the inside. He can’t believe that worked. Here’s this chick who all but told him to go fuck himself just a few days ago, now all but begging him for his help. Or no, begging is a strong word, but still.

He has to go back into his room and fetch the rest of his toolbox. Turned out you did need an or-something—a drill. No wonder you weren’t managing. But after a little over an hour of tinkering while you lay on your bed reading a magazine—and at some point asking you if it was okay if he removed his shirt before he died of heatstroke, then bothering you for a drink—it was finally finished.

“Alright, all done.” He announced, and after sliding it into place for you, he clapped his hands together and said, “Ta-dah.”

He then takes a look at his wristwatch, wanting to see how long he’d spent, but comes away with another fun discovery.

“My my, would you look at the time?” he grins again, showing it to you. “Just passed eight.”

It makes him snicker. And not expecting a thank you after that comment, he just gathers his tools and slings his shirt over his shoulder, ready to excuse himself. 

“Let me know if you need a cup of sugar, neighbor.” 

He’s just about to open the door when you speak up.

“Thanks, but I'm good on sugar, actually.” 

Your voice is a little different this time—not annoyed, though not chagrined like earlier either—no, something new. Something that makes him turn around again. 

You’ve rolled off the bed, now standing just a short distance away, hips tilted, standing slanted with your arms crossed loosely, wearing those same tight little short shorts he’s never seen you without but could definitely picture on the floor.

Yeah, in his wildest dreams, or so he thought…

“I might need some help breaking in my bed, though, if you’re interested.” 

You step closer, sizing him up where he stands, and then you smile, offering him a small coy laugh. “That is, of course, if it’s not already passed your bedtime.”

He swallows thickly—nearly drops the toolbox to the floor but manages to keep his cool, though just barely.

“No, I think I can help you with that.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Touya, Natsuo ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Megumi, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Kuro, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Karasu ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi, Genya ♡ WB – Sakura, Kaji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[alleiwentcrazy]

“Wait,” Steve propped himself on his elbow, getting into a half-lying, half-sitting up position, “you’d do that for me?”

“Yeah man,” Eddie replied. He shimmied a little bit closer to the middle of the mattress and snuggled to his pillow. His eyebrows furrowed as he yawned. “I mean, I kind of did that already, didn’t I?”

Steve just kept on looking at him, stunned. It felt so strange to be cared for; to be remembered, known. He’d never had been, not like that—with Robin, sure, but that was different. He’d never felt like that with Nancy. With anyone. He hadn’t had to try and make out someone’s silhouette in the darkness, just to read their face and decide whether they were just selfless and nice or doing something for him. Truly for him, for the sake of doing it for him. It had never been an issue, because there had never been anyone about whom he’d had to wonder things like that. It had always been an exchange of sorts in this context.

But not with Eddie.

Steve’s head started to spin.

“Honestly I can’t wait for you to see it. You know she’s not really my type, but even I can see how fucking cool this car is. It felt a little like tuning my guitar or—”

Steve didn’t even register it when he reached for Eddie’s face, his consciousness wasn’t in the room when he lowered himself down and sank even closer to the boy who’d put his heart in a wrench. He just kissed him, and when he did – momentarily, it was a complete bliss. As long as his lips were gently pressed to Eddie’s, no matter how hard his heart was beating, it felt like he would be okay after all. Nothing else was important; he was kissing Eddie. He felt warm and cared for; he was kissing Eddie. 

Eddie.

Steve felt a finger hook at the rim of his shirt, he felt himself being pulled closer.

The panic came approximately three seconds later.

Their lips parted with the softest tsk, but Steve heard it several times louder. His senses were screaming at him, all alarms set off; the smell of Eddie’s shampoo lingered around his face, the sensation of chapped lips lingered against his, his fingers were tingling where they came in contact with Eddie’s slightest stubble.

It was curious how much Eddie reminded him of a cat at that moment. He was rigid, but ready to spring into action whenever, and his eyes were ridiculously big, almost fluorescent in the dim moonlight that was seeping through the trailer’s curtains. The longer Steve looked into those eyes, the more he felt like he might have fucked up. Bad.

“Should I—I should, I mean I…” He trailed off, getting a little further away from Eddie with every word. “I should, yeah, probably. Go.”

He practically jumped out of the bed, and it pained him how cold it was without Eddie close to him. He’d gotten so used to sleeping here, just sleeping, whenever Wayne was out and no uncomfortable questions would be asked, so that they both could feel a little less alone.

“I’ll take the van, we’ll exchange cars later today, alright?” Steve looked for his change of clothes in the darkness. They were, as usual, neatly stacked in his designated space at Eddie’s desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I mean, I did, but I’m, uh. I’m…” He trailed off, his cheeks getting embarrassingly hot and pink, he supposed, even though he couldn’t see himself in the mirror.

It felt wrong to say he was sorry. He was, obviously, he just kissed Eddie out of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. His lips were still warm. He wanted to purse them tightly to keep the memory of Eddie’s lips on his firmly in place.

“We should do it again.”

Steve froze.

“What?”

He turned back towards the bed. It was much easier to make out Eddie’s form now. He was sitting up, chewing his thumbnail, his eyes barely flickering to Steve. His hair stood out against the white-ish wall and Eddie’s gray T-shirt. The waves were quite disheveled, but still cascaded beautifully over his shoulders.

Damn, Steven.

“We should do it again. If you’re not sure, we should do it again.”

Not sure about what? Steve did not dare ask. Eddie looked so nervous, maybe even more nervous than Steve felt. Both of their breaths were coming short now, as if they’d just run a marathon.

Apprehensively, Steve sat back down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath him and he swayed a bit forward.

“We should kiss. Again?” That really was what it was, right?

Eddie nodded his head quickly. Steve’s breath hitched when the smell of Eddie’s shampoo reached his nose once again.

There were very few thoughts in Steve’s head. There was just Eddie, right in front of him, chewing his nail, nodding away. Wanting to kiss him, again, having been kissed once already. Steve was confused and more than a little queasy, but his willpower wasn’t quite strong enough to get him questioning things.

“Okay,” he mumbled. Eddie finally looked at him, lowered his hand to his lap and nodded.

Some sort of nervous sound rumbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Okay. It was okay. He leaned in—and Eddie leaned in at the same time. Warm breath tickled Steve’s lips, and he stopped just before meeting Eddie half-way.

“Are you su—”

Eddie was kissing him before the sentence got out of his mouth in its entirety. Really kissing him, not just pressing their lips together, kissing him, still incredibly stiff and distanced, but kissing him. Oh, with something more than just curiosity, Steve could tell. He let out one heavy breath through his nose and felt Eddie relax right away with him. Their lips were in perfect harmony; Steve’s chest tightened. His stomach felt heavy and full and squirmy and for some reason Steve had never felt better than in this moment, even though his eyes stung and he could barely breathe.

His hands acted on their own accord, one settling on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on his cheek, keeping him close, closer, closer still.

Their lips parted. Steve felt the loss immediately.

“I’m gonna…” Eddie whispered huskily, untangling his legs from the cover and shifting his position. It was funny how one of his knees kind of hovered over Steve’s lap in silent question – it was even funnier how long it took Steve to process that.

“Yeah, feel free, please.”

What the fuck, Steven.

Eddie straddled his lap and leaned right back for another kiss, pressing their chests together. Their hearts kept thump thump thumping loudly against their chests, and Steve was kind of actively losing his mind over that. Eddie, in his gray T-shirt and stupid plaid shorts, was straddling his lap, kissing him, making him believe that he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Was it even real? Could Steve touch him? Would it really be alright? He laid his hand on Eddie’s thigh, feeling hair and goosebumps underneath his fingers. Another conclusion from that night: Eddie was hot. Steve kissed him harder, and he reciprocated, grabbing Steve’s neck.

Steve had no idea for how long they had been kissing, until Eddie swayed dangerously close to the edge of the bed and Steve’s neck started to hurt. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was it.

For now, hopefully.

“It’s getting late,” he mumbled against Eddie’s lips, “and you’ve got to be at the shop at 8 sharp tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said and stole one more peck. “You wanna sleep?”

Fuck me if I can, Steve thought, but nodded yes.

“But let’s talk tomorrow? Okay?”

Eddie’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. His lips seemed sleek and shiny, shinier than his eyes, even.

“We must,” he replied. They both nodded. For some reason Steve’s heart started beating even faster now.

Eddie scrambled from his lap, cleared his throat and rearranged the covers, getting back into his favourite position. Steve followed suit. The gap between them seemed enormous and immediately got filled with anxious energy.

Steve reached between them hesitantly. For a few seconds his hand just lay there, empty and suddenly very cold. Eddie’s open palm touched his. He let out a big breath.

They would figure it out. For sure. Tomorrow.

[sloaneispunk]

“love is a losing game”

frontman! (hwang in-ho) x you

what if frontman had joined the first games with gi-hun? in-ho seeked thrill and decided to become a player in the first games, meeting you. when it was time to play ‘marbles’, he was caught between a dilemma of letting you or his cover go

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

‘this game will be played in pairs. please find a partner and shake hands to indicate your pairings’

in-ho was the first to look at you. “y/n, play with me.”

you looked at him stunned, “you want me? what if it’s a game that needs strength?”

“you’re the strongest person i know here, so it’s a yes?” he smiled, waiting for you to shake his hand.

then, you looked to gi-hun who was watching the two of you expectantly as his face dropped. when he saw the worry on your face he shook his head. “no, you two go ahead, i’ll find someone else to play with.”

you gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back at in-ho, taking his hand.

when the timer came to an end, everyone moved towards the next room.

“ah! y’all bastards, play with me please! you need me!” player 212 pleaded as the guards started to approach her. she was the only player that hadn’t found a partner.

her screams and pleads pierced your ears as you looked back at her being dragged away by the guards.

“don’t look.” in-ho said, using his hand to gently turn your head away from the sight.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

you and in-ho followed the guard to your assigned places. it was the porch of a small wooden house, just like yours when you were younger. despite the fake set up, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia, taking in your surroundings. small trees encircled the house, its leaves seeming as real as ever.

“i wonder what game they’re going to make us play.” you wondered aloud as you sat on the porch steps.

‘the game is marbles. each player will be given ten marbles, you are to play any game of your choice. the winner will be determined by having all twenty marbles’

your eyes shot to in-ho. “that means…”

“there can only be one winner.” he finished, looking back solemnly.

your distress was rising quickly as the tension between the two of you thickened.

you rushed to the guard, “can we switch partners, please? i can’t play with him!”

“y/n-”

“please.” you sobbed, but the guard remained unfazed.

“hey, it’s okay. we have time, let’s just sit down and talk.” he gave you a smile, taking your hand leading you back to the porch steps.

“in-ho-”

“so what movies do you like?” he cut you off, that stupid smile still bright on his face.

after a brief moment of silence, you answered. “i-i guess i like the marvel movies.”

“yeah? do you have a favourite superhero?”

“black widow.” you let out a suppressed laugh. “as a kid i looked up to her, she was strong.”

“she’s pretty badass, isn’t she?”

you chuckled. “yeah, she is.”

even though it was obvious that in-ho was simply trying to uplift the mood it felt like it was working. if you were going to die here, it might as well be with in-ho.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

time passed and now you only had five minutes left on the clock, anxiety bubbled in your stomach.

“what do you want to do when you get out of here?” you asked in-ho, your head now rested on his shoulder.

he pulled you closer, making sure you were nice and comfortable before he replied. “i guess, pay off my debts and start a new life… maybe a nice apartment with a dog.”

“i like that.” you agreed.

“what about you?” he asked, looking down, placing a kiss on your head as he did so.

“find my family. we’ll all live together again, i’ll buy a big house and we can all be happy.”

“that sounds nice.” he whispered.

“we should play a game.” you sighed, lifting your head. you pulled your legs together, crossing them as you turned to face him, marbles in hand.

“we can play rock paper scissors, winner takes all.” he suggested.

“i really don’t want to play against you.” you said barely above a whisper, looking down.

he smiled, lifting your head up with his finger. “it’ll be okay. on my count okay?”

you nodded hesitantly.

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

you threw scissors.

in-ho threw rock.

but he knew better, quickly changing it to paper right before your eyes.

without a word said, he gave you his ten marbles.

“no! in-ho, you can’t do that!” you shouted, tears flooding to your eyes.

“ah, i knew i should’ve threw rock.” he laughed to himself, acting oblivious.

you got up, kneeling down before him as you grabbed his collar.

“let’s play again, that wasn’t fair!”

“no, the rules were that. i guess i lost.”

you started to weep at his feet. in-ho had been there for you ever since the first game of red light, green light, taking you under his wing.

he would spend the nights keeping watch over you as you slept, pairing with you in every game so he could win for the both of you. he even kept the ridiculous goons away from you when you were being threatened by them, and now you were going to lose the only person you trusted in the game.

he was your best friend and your lover, he couldn’t possibly be stripped away from you just like that.

“y/n, please don’t cry, you’re going to make me cry.” he tried to laugh it off, but he felt his eyes stinging.

he gently scooped you up from the ground, making you face him as he pulled you close, your head on his chest as he shushed, rocking you back and forth.

“you’re okay.” he cooed, “you’re a strong girl, you’re going to make it out, right?”

you shook your head ‘no’.

“yeah, you will. you’ll leave the game with the money, find your family and live a happy life.”

“not without you.” you cried. “i can’t do this without you, in-ho, please. i need you.”

his heart broke into a million pieces. this whole character of his was a facade but it suddenly felt all so real for a moment.

in-ho realised that he too couldn’t live without you, but as frontman, he didn’t have a choice. for now, he could only give you the comfort and company you needed.

“look at me, y/n.” he said softly as you lifted your head once more.

“you’re the most beautiful, compassionate and the toughest girl i’ve ever met. you’ve got what it takes to get out of here… my strong girl is still right inside here.” he pointed to your heart, making you sniffle. “i’ve had the best moments of my life playing these games with you.”

“me too.” you admitted.

he cupped your face, pulling you in for a first and last kiss.

it was full of emotion, relief, joy but also grief. when you pulled away, he nodded, asking you to leave as the timer reached your last ten seconds.

without a choice, you slowly walked out into the corridor, leaving in-ho behind. you couldn’t bear to look at him again, tears still streaming down your face as you were escorted to the exit.

then, there was a loud bang. a gunshot.

‘player 002 eliminated.’

it felt like a part of you had died along with him.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

when he had made sure that you made it through the exit, in-ho glared at the guard.

“dickhead, do you know how close that was to my feet?” he scolded, pushing past him as he walked towards the backdoor.

yes, he felt awful about the whole faking his death thing. but what choice did he have? he knew that he couldn’t let you die on his behalf, he was going to get out of the game either way.

but a part of him was filled with overwhelming sadness, because this meant that meeting you would just be a memory now. there was no way he could face you again.

he sat alone in the dark back in his control room, whiskey in hand as he tried to drown the pain.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

when you met up again with gi-hun, you ran up to hug him but your tears wouldn’t stop flowing. you sobbed the entire time, it didn’t a genius to immediately know what had happened.

he stayed with you the whole night. even when you jerked awake from nightmares, gi-hun made sure to calm you down, ensuring that you got enough rest.

during meal time when you could only stare at your food, he ensured that he kept the food, just in case you ever got hungry in the middle of the night.

little did you know, in-ho kept watch too from behind the screen.

there was a sense of comfort as he watched gi-hun treat you as if you were his very own daughter. he knew that you were in safe hands… for now.

but he knew that sang-woo had turned completely cold-hearted. he was going to be a threat to your safety.

in-ho picked up the walkie talkie on his table, “keep player 455 safe, whatever it takes.”

but how was he going to keep sang-woo away from you?

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

a little angst couldn’t hurt anyone.

[vivimura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ when you visit your boyfriend to spend time with him, he downright ignores you and continues gaming leading to a grumpy play fight which soon escalates into something not so playful.

GENRE ~ fluff, suggestive.

WORD COUNT ~ 1.485k

ᯓ★ i had fun writing this ngl.

when you giddily turned the doorknob to riki's bedroom in his dorm apartment, your face rotted into one of disbelief. the room was dark, except for the large, obnoxiously bright tv screen near one wall of the room, with riki sitting across to it on a small black leather couch, a warm lamp lit on his side. he had a pair of gaming headphones snug on his head, one which had a mic to convey his less than clean exclamations of frustration at his teammates. there was a controller in his dexterous hands, his tongue darting out ever so often and teeth sunk into his plump bottom lip in focus. he didn't seem to have noticed you were even there, and to make things worse, he wore just a thin black tee and basketball shorts. it was a simple outfit, yet effective in driving you crazy in all the right ways.

you sighed and rolled your eyes. damn it. if you didn't know any better, he had probably spent all day glued to his couch, and it was probably going to remain that way unless you did something. you rid yourself of your puffer jacket, clearing your throat as you neatly folded it in an attempt to get him to at least acknowledge your arrival. but of course, your attempts were in vain. 

you knew for a fact that he wasn't utterly unaware of your entrance, given how the corner of his lips tugged up into the tiniest ghost of a smirk. he was playing a game you were familiar with. he sensed you walking closer to where the couch was, but paid it no mind, the yelling and screaming of his other online gaming teammates ringing out through the air along with his own voice. it was only once you were standing between the couch and tv, arms on your hips, that he craned his neck up to look at you, a smug expression forming on his face. you narrowed your eyes into a glare, tapping your foot on the ground, waiting for him to take his darned headphones.  he chuckled lowly, continuing to game by peaking over your shoulder for a few more seconds out of thorough enjoyment of watching you stew and grow impatient. but, he knew he should set a limit to his teasing. he took off his headphones and leaned forward to set them, along with his controller down on the coffee table in front of him. "something wrong?" he teased, his tone all too playful for your liking. “oh, don’t give me that. and quit smiling.” you almost immediately responded, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s cold as balls outside, but i still came to see you. you didn’t even look my way!” you scolded, but it came off more as whining to your boyfriend. 

he held his hands up in mock surrender, a small smirk still tugged at his lips at your pouty expression. he had to admit, you were pretty cute when you were mad. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry." he chuckled again, patting the empty space next to him on the couch. "come, sit. i'll make it up to you, yeah?"

you felt your irritation slowly but surely subside, but kept your expression indifferent. with a petulant ‘hmph!’, you looked at the spot riki patted at, and then at riki. you dodged the edge of the coffee table by the couch, deciding to climb up onto riki’s lap, straddling his thighs instead.

he could only shake his head fondly, his soft and deep laughter ringing in your ears. he was more than happy to indulge you. he leaned back against the cushions of the couch, gaze never leaving yours as one hand found a place at the small of your back.

“pay attention to me.” you whined, rather demanded, nudging your scrunched nose with riki’s. he chuckled to himself and hummed playfully, landing a gentle pinch on your hip and watching your reaction with sheer amusement. your demand earned a huff from him before he replied, "you're literally sitting in my lap right now, baby. how much more attention do you want?" “i don't know, i don’t care..”, you continued, wrapping your arms around his torso in a firm grip and burying your face into your neck. as much as you tried to act bratty and annoyed, you couldn't deny how flustered amused smirks made you feel.

he wrapped his arms around your waist in response, keeping you firmly against him, your small form pressed up against his much larger frame. your neediness was only driving his smirk to widen. "needy baby." he teased, one hand finding your hair and gently running his fingers through it. a frown of irritation formed yet again at his little tease. you further dug your face into the crook of his neck, your mind working overtime on how to reply. when you couldn’t, you decided to land a bite on his neck as ‘punishment’. he let out a slight huff in surprise at the feeling of your teeth against his skin, his grip around your waist tightening somewhat as he did. "little brat." he muttered under his breath, lightly tugging on a few strands of your hair as a 'punishment' of his own. “oww..” you pouted, dramatically massaging the spot on my scalp. you pulled your face out of the crook of his neck, announcing your irritation with a frowny face. apart from irritation, there was a certain flare of competitiveness in your eyes. oh, it was so on. the pads of your fingers and palm made contact with riki’s chest as you landed a slap on it in return.

"hey-" he cut himself off with a scoff when you slapped his chest, the expression on his face growing into a smirk once more. he knew all too well about your playful tendencies, and his competitive nature was beginning to be triggered now. without a word, he suddenly hooked one arm leg under your thighs, the other near your waist and lifted you up. with a few long strides, he carried you to his bed before you could even process what was happening, unceremoniously dropping you onto his bed. your eyes widened, and before you could even try shouting at him or wriggling out of his hold, you landed on the black duvet covering his twin bed with a bounce. dumbfounded, you exclaimed, “did you just body slam me, riki?!” he chuckled as he crawled onto the bed between your legs, hovering over you on all fours. his smirk grew as he watched you pout up at him, clearly not too happy about the way you had landed on the bed. "i guess you could say that. did you like it?" he asked in a teasing tone, one of his hands going to tease under your shirt. “i- wha-” butterflies. god, butterflies had likely colonised your stomach over his stupid smirks and how he could easily manhandle you into doing essentially anything. but, you knew better than to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you were. you concealed your feelings with a grumpy pout and maybe just a little genuine embarrassment of your own lack of strength. “you can’t just do that!” he chuckled yet again, his hand still exploring your exposed skin under your shirt, slowly making its way up to your ribs, right under the lacy edge of your bra as he continued to look down at you. your bratty behavior amused him, and he was always fond of how easy it was for him to tease you. "i just did, baby. it's fucking adorable how easy it was to." he cooed, his hot breath fanning against your neck, his nose nuzzled into its subtly fragranced skin. if you were standing right now, you were certain your knees would've given out. there was something so attractive about riki's confidence, not to mention his little cuss, that it turned you on in ways almost embarrassing. you shakily exhaled and frowned in slight offense, realizing you were a gone case if you stayed there any longer. stuck under some of the weight of his larger, muscular frame, you began squirming and wriggling in hopes to coax yourself out of his grip. he simply scoffed and grinned at your efforts to escape from under him and used the hand not snuck up your shirt to pin both your wrists over your head. he now pressed his lips against the side of your neck, planting a few gentle kisses before speaking again. "stop squirming." he whispered next to your ear before nipping at the lobe. you felt your face heat up, a tingle between your legs now undeniable. you bit the insides of your cheeks and let out a silent shaky exhale. you continued squirming under him, now using a tactic of pity to get away from the situation. “let me go, you’re heavy...” he lifted his head from your neck to flash you a wolfish grin, using his knees to spread your legs apart. the next thing you knew was his very evident erection pressed right by your thigh, and his hot, deep whisper right by your lips, “nah.” part 2

[et6rnalsun]

YOU GON’ MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE FOR A WHILE (WOULD YOU FUCK ME?)

is your best friend really your best friend or is it just a way to cover the sexual tension that drowns out your lost common sense? good question.

95% of the time matt wanted to give in to that burning temptation, the other 5% he just did it carelessly.

that five percent had manifested itself on a saturday night filled with boredom and complete dullness, nothing interesting or stimulating enough to completely turn the day around — except for chris animatedly yapping about his umpteenth failed talking stage of the month downstairs. you were lying on matt’s bed while he absentmindedly fixed his hair in the mirror, getting ready to go out after hours of begging him to do so.

on one hand, he was also desperately trying not to look in your direction. christ, you should realize on your own that you were in a position far too provocative for any human with an ounce of hormones. you were lying on your stomach, shirt slightly hiked up to reveal your soft skin, back arched enough to highlight your curves that he drooled over daily. he had to get a grip.

“please, go and try not to wear emo clothes,” you subtly teased, your cheek snugly pressed against the palm of your hand as you turned your body more to watch him get ready. he just rolled his eyes at that, the sassiness of it enough to make you chuckle. “i’m not emo. black jus’ suits me” he turned to meet your gaze just as he was putting on his chain, his head bowed slightly. “plus i thought you liked it?”

you scoffed, but a smirk still tugged at the corners of your mouth. “i do” you shrugged, your eyes trailing down his frame and the way the chain dangled down his neck — making him shiver at the mere gesture. as you watched and talked to him, you noticed his obvious struggle in putting the thing on, probably not being able to latch it. so you stood up, adjusting your shirt that was out of place after laying down in that way, before approaching him.

“you could ask for help” you positioned yourself behind him, raising yourself slightly on tiptoe to latch the chain.

he chuckled lightly at the fact that you immediately sensed his need, and turned to look at you. he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “alright, thanks,” he trailed, licking his lips. “you read my mind or somethin’?” you felt small under his gaze, and you crossed your arms instinctively, “it was simply a pitiful scene. anyone would’ve understood”

but his hands automatically rested on your arms seconds after your gesture, slowly unwrapping and bringing them up to move around his neck—his rings touching your skin made your stomach knot even tighter.

how the fuck were you supposed to react? you hugged each other often, yes, but this was too intimate to not miss a heartbeat or two. “are you tryin’ to suffocate yourself with my hands?” you tried to joke about it, easing the strange tension that was building between you.

matt was only fueling the tension, though. the fact that his hands had subsequently moved down your waist wasn’t helping; your bodies now close enough to touch, breaths mingling with each other. “you can try,” he replied, breathing a little too heavy as he took in your scent.

you rolled your eyes, trying not to meet his gaze. “looks like you want simple affection to me”

“maybe” but no, he didn’t. his touch felt too urgent to be something as simple as some friendly affection. you felt his hands squeezing your hips a little too tightly, fingertips digging into your skin little by little, desperate to feel you closer. and the heat of his body was strong enough to reveal his true state of mind. “it’s not weird for me to want it”

your arms wrapped around his neck more properly for a hug, letting your fingers sink lazily into his messy hair. “you’re right” you murmured lowly, letting him melt into you. you tried to ignore how his lips then trailed along your jaw to reach your neck, skin exposed by the position of your head, their softness sending little shivers down your spine. he had started leaving wet kisses, actions a little bolder after feeling how you tightened your grip on his locks, enough to make him let out a quiet hum against your throat. the sound made you head spin, your body responding to his touch before your mind could catch up.

"you feel so good," matt sighed, voice husky as his lips grazed your pulse. your own breathing was uneven now, your fingers threading through his hair as you let your head tilt further, offering him more—silent permission. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. “is this okay?"

“not really, no” your back was now leaning against the wall of his room, and you felt too much of a prisoner in those actions that seemed simply wrong for someone who had been your bestfriend for so long.

he raised an eyebrow, pulling away from your neck with a small and wet pop—the sound of his mouth letting go of the patch of skin he’d sucked and bit to leave a mark. “no?” he was skeptical, not believing your words. “bet you’re so wet as you say this”

you pressed your legs together. “i’m not gettin’ wet for this little” you challenged subtly, trying to keep your breathy tone hidden. you were pretty sure that your panties were now stained from the desire he had made you feel in just a few minutes, and you could clearly feel it dripping in a sinful, haunting way.

he placed a hand on your leg, slowly running his fingers up to where your shorts ended, moving closer to your inner thigh. “i think i should touch to see if you’re lyin’ or not”

you beat him into the game, placing your hand over the bulge of his pants, the corners of your lips turning up in a smirk as you slowly tightened your grip. “well, you’re so hard” you hummed, watching as his face changed with his lip bitten so hard by his teeth you were sure you’d see blood soon. “so you can’t really talk about me bein’ wet”

“no shit” he breathed out, placing a hand over yours to move it slightly, groaning softly at the sensation. you followed the way he guided your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly as it strained against the fabric of his jeans, begging to come out. he then rested his forehead against your shoulder, moaning against it, moving his hips to feel more.

“you’re not goin’ to cum on me, are you?” you teased.

matt rolled his eyes, both in pleasure and annoyance. “you think i’m that pathetic?”

before you could nod at his words and answer positively to the question, chris's shrill voice reached your ears from downstairs; “move your ass! i’m hungry and i’m not gon wait for you to finish fuckin’”

you pulled away with a giggle, taking advantage of his almost weak state to push him aside and free yourself from the wall he had created with his body that blocked your way. “you heard him” you shrugged as if you were innocent — as if you weren’t leaving him with a dripping boner, a white stain ruining the front of his pants. by the time he turned to react to everything that happened in a matter of seconds, you already disappeared down the stairs.

“fuckfuckfuck” he cursed under his breath, looking down at the mess you made. he was only going to die only after he made you pay for it, he was sure of it.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Platonic Yandere Batfamily x

Child Girlscout Reader!!

'In world where you can be anything be kind......'

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 This is part 4!!

'Your beautiful, where did you get your looks from?'

'Thank you! I look just like my mommy.....'

Your cute smile and round eyes had Bruce matching your reaction.

What you said was very true though you did look exactly like your mother.

Well, a smaller version atleast.

You tilt your head up to look at him still holding the purring cat in your arms peacefully.

'Who do you look like?' You ask.

It was a simple ,innocent, question really. One that you probably didn't put much thought in to ask.

Truthfully, it hurt bruce more then you'd expect. He knew that if you had known it would've hurt him you wouldn't have asked.

So ,obviously, doesn't blame you.

Instead he keeps composer and replies with a soft smile.

'I suppose I get my looks from my father.'

Truthfully he didn't really know. After his parents death he tried forgetting what they looked like. It was easier that way.

But he'd have nightmares and their memories never did fade their faces just kind of blurred.

He stopped staring at their pictures and painting in the manor along time ago. He didn't even know if Alfred had ever taken them down. Or if their still hung up in their old room.

'My mama says I have my daddy's smile!'

Your voice drags bruce out of his tournamented thoughts and he's quick to compose himself.

He had seen you smile alot. It was almost like you smiled more then you didn't. But he never really thought you had gotten it from your father. Although your smile doesn't really replicate your mother's.

'Is that so?' Bruce replies with an almost forced smile. Bruce loved the idea of you looking like your mother.

He loved the image that he could paint in his head with it. You could pass as his daughter because you had more traits of your mother then you did of your biological dad.

So bruce could always lie and say you were biologically his. That lie didn't really make much sense to him anyway. Because to him you were already his.

You nod softly looking down at the black cat in your small arms.

Glancing back up Dick's quick to grab your attention.

'There's someone we'd like you to meet..." He says grasping your shoulders gently and leading you to the astonishing living room.

You however don't catch jason nudging bruce towards your mother as she looks out a window admiring the sky.

'Don't mess this one up.' Jason mutters in his ear before following you and Dick to the living room.

Sat on the unnecessary big couch is Cassandra Cain.

Softly letting the cat down on the floor you tug on dicks shirt motioning for him to come closer.

Dick almost smiles at your adorable antics as he hears your next words you whisper in his ears. 'Who is she?'

'Our sister.' Dick declares and jason leans against the wall watching the whole interaction from a distance.

'Oh....' Is all you mutter and for a moment the two oldest Wayne's think your disappointed in that fact until you speak agian.

'She looks really cool.'

'She is.' Tim states like it's a known fact. Dicks flinches at his brother unannounced presence having not heard him step into the room.

'Why don't you go speak to her?' Tim nudges you forward but your quick to run behind them instead.

Peaking your head out like a kitten that doesn't know if she should trust a human.

Cass giggles at your innocent behavior. The boys however look quite bewildered at the thought of you being scared of the only girl in the family.

You tilt your head from behind them watching as Cass giggles at your actions. Maybe she wasn't so scary....?

This time you actually move towards her without being nudged and she offers a soft smile silently begging you to come closer.

She pats the cushion beside her and you hesitatently take a seat.

Cass sends the boys a quick glance silently telling them to leave so she could have some time with you.

Their quick to do as she wishes despite their longing to stay.

'Your very pretty....' You mumble ,eyes cast down, small hands playing with the fabric of the lavish couch.

Cass doesn't speak but hums in delight at your kind words.

The boys had told her you were as sweet as candy ,but she hadn't believed anything but bitterness was reserved in gotham.

Until now.

She pondered for a moment not knowing what to say or do but your timid voice breaks the silence.

'You seem so..... cool.'

Cool? Is that what you thought of her? Is that why you had hesitated to meet her? Because you believed she was cool?

The young vigilantly had never been described as 'cool'. Cold? Yes. Quiet? Definitely.

But cool? Never.

It was a term that was often us as for her brothers not her. Yet, just by the sight of her you had deemed her....cool.

Maybe you were sweet. Like candy that'd rot your teeth ,but she'd gladly let her teeth rot just to have you. And that was made very clear to her in just these small minutes with you.

She didn't utter a word to you and somehow you didn't need her to.

You opened up to her on your own pace ,and she found it quite memorizing how quickly you considered her a friend.

Your smaller hands played with her larger calloused ones like you would with a toy.

But not harsh. No, you were soft. Gentle, as your fingers traced the lines in her palms like she was something to cherished.

'Can I be your friend?' Your quite voice sounds more like a prayer then a question.

It takes Cass atleast three awkward seconds before she's swiftly shaking her head yes. She'd never been asked to be a friend.

Truthfully, she never really cared for it either. But right now she does.

You smile, your naive eyes squinting at the ends. You giggle joyfully as if she'd just handed you a bag of candy.

'I'll be the best friend! I pinky promise!' You bable happily like a person who just won the lottery.

Cass's pinky wraps around your extended one ,carefully sealing the deal. It's safe to say she sees why everyone cherish's your happiness like a gem.

Because in a city full of monster's it seemed you truly were the only angel left.

And she'd gladly keep you safe even if you can't see it ,yet.

While you were being coddled and adored by your new found best friend your mother simply looked out the big windows of the manor.

Bruce's mind raced with ideas of how to approach her without seeming like a creep.

After all she did accuse him of trying to kidnap her daughter and she isn't half wrong.

He couldn't mess this up. He wouldn't ,but your mother was so diffrent then the women he's been with.

She wasn't spoiled or tainted. She wasn't a thief or a killer. She was a nurse.

A simple women with so much heart and love. But it seemed like that was only reserved for you.

That was it! He'd reach her through you!

'She seems happy...' Bruce says and he watches as she slightly flinches at his voice but she hides it well.

Your mother turns looking at you as you play and talk with Cass on the couch. Her eyes softening at the sight.

She hums her voice low and calm. Like the sight of you calmed her. It did.

'She's always happy," You mother comments taking a sip from her cup that's filled with some fancy juice.

'But she does look happier.' She continues calm her heart filled with a feeling of bliss at the view of you so happy.

Bruce smiles a rare sight even for his kids. He nods enjoying the sight of you being so compatible with his kids.

'She loves everyone.' Your mom mumbles her eyes still trained on you having an absolute wonderful time with Cassandra.

'Did she get that from you?' Bruce asks finally coming up with a decent question to strike a conversation.

Your mother smiles and ,agian, its because of the thought of you. She shakes her head her mind replaying the memories of you welcoming any stranger like it was your family.

'No, she inherited that from her father....'

'I see....' Bruce nods hands tight at the thought of you inheriting something that from another man.

'He used to be so.....diffrent back then.' Your mother says now turning her attention back on Bruce.

It was pretty clear what she meant by that but Bruce carries on not wanting the conversation to end.

'Diffrent how?' He voices softly, but your mother still feels distressed at the question.

She still answer's though.

'Happy, like her....'

She doesn't have to gesture to you for Bruce to know who she's talking about.

'What changed?' Bruce ask generally wanting to know. He'd first came to her to get to know you.

Yet, the more he talks with her and each picture she paints with her words ,Bruce finds himself digging bigger whole in his heart.

Big enough to make space for her in it.

'I ask myself that all the time..... One day he just...changed. changed into a man I had to let go.'

Her voice is quiet but it's stable ,something that she came to terms with long ago.

Bruce hums realizing that though she may always love the man she once knew that is not the man he is now.

And maybe he can be that man for her?

She smiles one that looks forced ,almost. Like it's something that's funny but it's not.

'In all of Gotham there's only one person that hopes he wakes up.'

'You?'

'No, I think he hurts more people alive then he would dead,' she pauses then points to you.

'He's that little girls world... She looks at him like he hung the stars.' She sighs almost defeated look I her gaze.

Bruce doesn't like the sound of that at all.

Bruce hums not really having the words to put his thoughts in the air nicely.

'She seems to love you alot too.' He finally says trying to soften the mood.

'She does.... But girls do tend to love their fathers more sometimes....even if their dads are the devil.' Your mother turns looking out the window agian.

But Bruce doesn't miss how she quickly wipes her eyes as a tear escapes. How awful is this man to make her cry?

'I stayed with him four more years before I finally left him.' She admits like something that she's ashamed about.

'What was the final straw?' Bruce doesn't even know if it's his place to ask but his mouth speaks before his mind has time to stop itself.

'When he got to her.' She sighs finally looking to where you are agian. It was pretty clear she prioritized your wellbeing over hers even if she didn't voice it.

It was known.

It strikes Bruce deep not knowing what she meant when it she said he gotten to you.

He had no idea what that man could have done to hurt you but even if he just poked you with his fingers Bruce was livid.

'You must love her alot.' He says trying to diminish his anger and focus on the hurt women infront of him.

'I love her more than anything.' She clarifies like she doesnt want Bruce to mistake it ,but he doubts anyone could.

'She's everything to me.'

'Your a good mother.' He says softly but his words are true. Anyone with two eyes can see just how good of a mother you are.

'She's a good kid. With her...it's easy.' She shrugs.

That may be true but even Bruce knows having a good kid doesn't just automatically make you a good mom like she is.

'You don't give yourself enough credit.' Bruce says and he doesn't miss how she doesn't meet his eyes anymore trying to hide her tears like their scars.

'There's still some things I'm not prepared for.' She says her eyes still on the dark clouds that fills the sky.

'Well a parent can never be prepared for everything-' he wants to add that he's batman and he's still not prepared for half the thing his kid's do but he doesn't.

Because he knows he can't. Even if he wishes he could.

Now if there was one person who'd love your bubbly personality more then Dick it would be Duke.

Because who likes living in a house full of angsty vilganty's? Not many and especially not the happy boy named Duke Thomas!

Cass had taken her eyes off of you for no longer then five seconds before looking back to where you were once seated to see that you were gone?!

Standing up quickly she hastily begins to look around for you!

From the living room to dining room to even the bathrooms that you'd have to walk all the way to the other side of the manor to get to!

She eventually had to get the others to help. Even though she truly didn't want to....

'What do you mean you lost her!' Dick all but shouts before Tim tries to calm him down.

'Don't yell! If her mom thinks we lost her she'll never trust us agian!'

'Do you idiots hear that or am I hallucinating?' Damian asks pointing to the ceiling. Who's room was above the living room? Oh right dukes....

And what was that sound? Blasting music and giggles? Yeah they know exactly where you are.....

Opening the young heros door they see you happily sitting on Dukes lap giggling as he describes what the lyrics of the sounds mean.

Leaving out some parts....to keep your innocent intact of course!

After watching enough and hearing your giggles through the door they finally decode to open it.

Duke immediately turns off the loud music his face blank almost confused to why they look so worried.

'Whats up?'

'Whats up? Whats up! We've been looking for her for five minutes only to find out your having a party.' Dick voices voice cracking from how shocked he is.

'Not to mention your teaching her demonic music ,Thomas.' Damian adds crossing his arms and shaking his head in disapproval.

'Yeah you'd know something about devil music huh ,demon?' Jason quips with a chuckle just to get under the small boys skin.

'First off don't fight infront of her,' Duke says pointing at damian and jason already sensing a fight about to start.

'Second, it's called being cultured. Gotta teach 'em young.' Duke shrug glancing back at your pouting face now unhappy that the music stopped.

'She likes it.' Duke comments smiling at you which brings your smile back.

'I do!' You smile innocently.

'She doesn't even know what the lyrics mean.' Tim utters gesturing at you.

'That's why I'm teaching her.' Duke answers like it's the most common thing in the universe.

Cass quickly goes over to grab your hand sighing as she leads you back to where she had you before one of her brothers ruined her peaceful moments.

'Hey you can't just take her all the time we want to play with her too!' Tim whines dramatically pouting.

Cass complete ignores his request as she continues leading you down the stairs cases.

'Where is my baby?'

'Huh?'

Your mother's eyes quickly dart around the spacious living room and kitchen not being able to see you.

'My baby, where is she?!' She panics not seeing you anywhere?

Bruce could tell the women was definitely about to have a heart attack just from you not being in her sight.

What bruce didn't notice was your mother already thinking of ways to kill this man if she didn't find you within five minutes.

'She's probably with my kids...she's fine.'

'Your kids? The ones that are all practically grown men?!' She says already moving to yell in the man's face.

She couldn't believe how stupid she was! How could she let her baby be alone with strangers!

You being the absolutely ridiculously cute Saint you are saw your mother's distresses state ,and new she was looking for you as you walked down the stairs case.

'I'm here mama! I'm here!' You shout letting go of Cassandra's hand to sprint full speed towards your worried mother.

'Oh my baby...I thought I lost you.' She sighs finally feeling like she can breathe agian as she cups your soft cheeks.

'Nuh uh ,mama, I'm right here!' You giggle as she smiles down at you.

Bruce on the other hand finally realizes that he was about to get murdered by your mother if Cass hadn't brought you back downstairs.

Alfred smiles seeing your mother being so affectionate with you remembering all the times Martha had been like that with Bruce in the past.

It had been along time since a mother's love filled the manors air and Alfred was happy to see how it was finally coming back.

'Dinners ready.' Alfred announces calmly as he gestures to the dining room.

Your mother's sighs at your pouting face because you already know what she's about to say.

'Don't give me that look...we've stayed long enough.'

'Your leaving?' Damian speaks up interrupting your mother's conversation with you.

'It's late we should really get going...' Your mother defends putting a hand on your shoulder ready to lead you out the big manor.

'Wed really like it if you stayed....please?' Dick protest and it was kinda hard to say no to a grown man that was pouting desperately.

Not to mention the other wayne children faces matched their older brother's.

Your mother sighs looking back at you an dshe knows she's lost when she hears your quiet plea.

'Please, mama?'

'Fine...we leave after dinner not a second later.'

All smiles in the manor reach their eyes as they hear her words.

'Well then let's go eat.' The old butler states as you walk over to him grabbing his hand with a smile as he leads you to the beautiful dining room..

Your mother sighs knowing she gave into your cuteness once agian.

'What am I gonna do with you..?' She mutters, watching as you happily skip to the dining room with Alfred, as he matches your skips with long strides.

She rubbed her face, her mind repeatedly saying 'it's just a simple dinner. Get in get out.'

The table was unusually quiet and your mother could tell straight away that this wasn't exactly normal for them as they all fiddled with their hands or their fingers.

Despite their best attempts at seeming normal all eyes did end up falling on you.

You happily spoke and ate not noticing the soft eyes all staring at you lovingly. Your mother did though ,and she was already mentally burying bodies.

You spoke softly your eyes on damian as he told you various facts about animals you didn't know.

And you threw in your two cents when you thought of something you had learned from Wild Krats.

Alfred saw your mother's focused eyes noticing she had caught on to everyone's adoring gaze and she didn't seem to happy about it.

'So you're a nurse correct?' Alfred calm spoken words break everyone put of their deep gaze including you.

'Yep my mommies the best nurse!'

Your mother smiles softly appreciating your kind-hearted words knowing you meant them.

'Yes, I am a nurse.' Your mother clarifies nodding at Alfred.

Alfred smiles at both your mother's profession and your mother-daughter relationship.

'Do you enjoy it?' Jason's ruff voice ask his fork digging into his food as he speaks.

Everyone wanted to ask that was clear by how they all perked up at the question.

The truth was they all new a thing or two about patching themselves up but nothing compared to what a nurse would know.

And they knew nurse helped people. They did too but sometimes they hurt more people then they helped sometimes. A nurse didn't.

A nurse just helped.

You mother takes a moment to think before answering the question.

'I love my job it... it does good.' She shrugs taking a sip of her drink before continuing.

'But it takes alot of time... takes me away from things that I love.' Your mother sighs setting down her cup.

Alfred smiles a rare sight that the Wayne's hardly ever see other then special occasions.

'Being a nurse or really anything in medical attention is a special profession.'

Your mother nods at Alfred kind words enjoying them greatly and appreciating them.

Though your mother barely knew the old man that kept these walls clean. She understood why you talked so highly of him.

The calm silence of dinner was abruptly interrupting by a ringing sound ,but it wasn't a phone.

No, it was your small pinky hello kitty watch that your mother paid about three dollars for.

It was your most prized possession.

As the small watch rang all eyes were on you as you quickly turned it off and ran to your mother's chair in a hurry.

'Mama your phone! Your phone!' You all but scream in a haste as your mother pulls out her phone almost embarrassed at how persistent you are to get her phone.

'Thanks mama!'

Your little legs run as fast as you can to the living room desperately wanting space.

All eyes now turn to your mother silently asking why you had wanted her phone so desperately.

Your mother sighs giving an awkward smile before answering everyone's silent question.

'Her dad calls her every day at this time. That's why she has an alarm set on her phone.'

Soft 'ohs' and hums of understanding reach her ears.

The table goes quiet almost like everyone's in silent agreement to try and hear what your talking about through the walls.

After about three minutes of concentrated silence your mother's voice breaks the silence.

'So I hear your a cop?' She ask her gaze pointed at dick.

He nods an almost shy smile on his face.

'Definitely an honorable profession.' She says her smile warm and dock can't help but smile too.

'What about you?' Your mother's hands tap the table softly but her gaze is on Jason now.

He hated that question. Because he didn't really have a way to respond to it. What was he supposed to say? He lived off of criminals money? No, that wouldn't do.

So he shrugs 'still trying to figure that out.'

Your mother hums soft smile never leaving her lips as she speaks and jason likes that. She isn't judging or looking at him like he's doing something wrong. She looks....understanding.

'You'll figure it out...'

And with how soft her words seemed they sounded...so true.

Maybe he could figure it.

'Ah, and I hear your quiet the genius.' She continues her arms on the table nothing but kind hearted tone in her voice as she looks at Tim.

Now Tim didn't know if you told her that or if she googled him but either way he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to be praised.

'I wouldn't say that I'm a genius...' He shrug trying not to be to cocky.

'I doubt anyone would.' Damian adds with a soft smirk. And while Tim looks annoyed and embarrassed Dick and Jason can't help but snicker..

Bruce however gives them a stern glare which doesn't help much but looking at your. Mother she doesn't look to happy about it so they immediately stop.

Your mother hums her voice carefully and light as she speaks to the youngest wayne.

'You must be Damian.'

'I am.' His voice comes out quiet almost shaky as if her slight glare has him shaken. Now that makes his older brother's want to laugh even more.

'My daughter described you as if you were an angel.' Her voice is tender but there's something behind it.

Like she's disappointed with what she's seeing and that makes Damian feel disappointed in himself.

His heads hung low as she speaks agian. But that disappointment is gone when your mother says her next words.

'You certainly look it. Your absolutely adorable. You must've gotten your looks from your mother.'

She jokes a soft laugh leaves her lips and the other join obviously not goings to miss the chance to diss Bruce.

Bruce laughs himself finding your mother's confidence admirable.

Your mother complements Dukes brightness and Cass for her confidently fiece demeanor.

Slowly the small talk becomes less forced and more familiar.

Like this is how it's supposed to be.

Bruce relivishes in the normalcy and so do the children all while your mother keeps a smile on everyone face.

The once big empty table now feels smaller not with space but with comfort. Like these no gaps missing. Well there is one but you shortly make your way back to the table.

You almost unnoticed by how loud everyone is talking. Cass's the first to see you, your eyes cast down not meeting her gaze. She frowns but decides not to say anything.

You don't sit back on your seat and you don't say anything either.

You just stand there and everyone allows you to thinking maybe you just want to stand.

That is till your mother speaks up noticing how oddly quiet your being.

"You okay, baby?"

You sniffle your eyes still to the ground. Your mother's smile drops and a frown quickly replaces it.

Then everyone sees it. A tear drop. One then two. Then they don't stop.

Your mother's quick to try and comfort you opening her arms to allow you to come to her. But you don't.

No, to her surprise you run right past her.

Her head whips so fast she could've gotten whiplash. Just to see you run straight into Bruce's arms.

Bruce? Bruce!

Everyone's surprised gut Bruce quickly composes himself and sets you in his lap as you cry your little heart out on his chest.

He looks at your mother clearly not knowing what to do. But your mother offers no help. Just as confused as he is but for a totally different reason obviously.

Why would you run to him instead of her?

He awkwardly pats your back and your mother soft voice speaks up.

"What's happened baby...?"

"He doesn't love me mama....."

Your voice is so small and so broken. It hurts everyone how your sobs continue and grow louder.

Your mother sighs your sad small voice breaking her heart. She leans back in her seat.

Everyone's jaw clenched how dare someone break your heart? And this young? Oh, they were gonna pay.

Your mother knows your dad was probably just drunk he probably didn't even mean to call, like he should've.

He probably said something he didn't mean but that doesn't mean anything to your broken heart right now.

Your sad sobs echos throughout the manor cruelly. A reminder of how distressed you truly are.

And despite the other kids efforts; twenty minutes later they still can't bring your glowing smile back.

You cling to bruce like a lifeline, your cries muffled by his expensive shirt that he doesn't mind you ruining with your tears ,and snotty sniffles.

Eventually the kids do give up and just watch as your cries slowly fade. Some watch with curiosity with why you picked Bruce others with jealousy.

Your mother on the other hand watches with neither. She knows exactly why you ran to Bruce and no one else. She understands why you ran to Bruce instead of her.

You wanted something that neither her or the wayne children could give you.

A father's comfort.

Sigh, maybe this would be a bit more difficult then just a simple ,innocent, dinner.

With the dreadful amount of crying you did one would've thought you would've wanted to go home.

But not you!

Somehow you had gotten your mother to stay for a movie. In the manors luxurious house movie theater.

Claiming it would be rude to leave damian on his birthday without watching a movie like you two always did on eachothers birthday.

Normally she would've said no. But she couldn't not when you had just finished crying and she knew that this was your way of trying to forget your father's hurtful words.

So with a sigh she said yes.

Your mother left the movie theater claiming she needed something to drink. Bruce took this opportunity to make the final move everyone was planing.

Securing a date.

What Bruce obviously doesn't know is that you don't try and make moves on a women who's little girl heart just broke.

'What. Did. You. Just. Say.'

Your mother's voice is colder then any blade he's ever been stabbed with and the menacing batman flinches.

He swallows then continues.

'I-I was just wondering if perhaps if you wanted to we could-'

SMACK!

Well, that didn't go to exactly to plan.

And that's pretty cleat with how Bruce's cheek is reddening from the impact of your mother hand.

You mother's glare looks meaner then Clark's when he's angry. Now Bruce knows he really messed up.

But....is it wrong to say he...might enjoy it?

That thought quickly disappears faster then it came with how fast your mother begins cussing him out.

'How fucking dare you! My baby looks up to you! And you just want to get in my fucking pants?!' She takes a pause a short and dramatic cruel pause before she continues.

Hands on her hips and her right palm slightly red from how hard she hit Bruce's face ,but by the look on her face she clearly doesn't regret it.

'I'm not one of your whores you can get a quick fuck out of. And my baby ain't no orphan who needs saving.'

She turns around like the wind itself better fear her fury.

'Fuck you! And your mother-fucking bitch mentality!'

She thinks he got to you just to get to her? Well that's not how it is at all! But Bruce can't say that he wants her just to get you or that'll definitely sound wrong.

So he stands there and watches with a red cheek as your mother pulls you out the manor leaving you no time to whine and complain before your out the door.

The rain is oaking your clothes but you still make a point to wave to everyone watching you through the window.

Your mother's old car drives off like she Dominic Toreto himself and when the cat finally come out their view Jason says the words everyone's been dying to ask.

'What the fuck did you do?'

Bruce sighs hands in his hips copying your mother earlier stance ,but instead of anger fueling his heart it's desire and love.

'Alfred get me the best lawyers in gotham.'

Alfred sighs a knowing look of defeated acceptance in his gaze.

'The adoption one or matrimonial one?'

Obviously Bruce's plan was going to need a bit more.....force.

'Both.'

Thanks for reading!!

Likes ,comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Note: I do not encourage violence readers mother is just very protective of her baby.

Second note: I don't know why I picked that song in particular it just reminded me of reader and her dad relationship.

Taglist: @rovcarmen @yua-who @nervousalpacalady @jsprien213 @blue-flower-lady @ghost-0rch1d @vanilliona @vanessa-boo @cat-lover-over-9000 @itsmossy @nightstarblue @imhere2dosomething @hearts4mica @minny-ka @alishii @tsxukikami @its-simply-just-krys @maskedvoyance @theworldscalamity @kazuuhali @eyeless-kun @bbmgirll @jjoppees @justafank @ive-made-so-many-mistakes @iamapotatoe @asillysimp @whiteoakoak @leogf @sanchann @nisarelle @ratterpatter @venomsvl @sh4rk-k1d @reeyy0-2 @kneelforloki @sirlovel @moon0goddess @cruzerforce4256 @ironsaladwitch @gaychaoticraccoon @dubidumzy @ssak-i

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fention Chapter 4, Part 2

pls no editing or con crit. I am still sick and this is not edited. i keep choking on air. or my tongue. not fun either way... ANYWAYS!

Dick watched Wally pace back and forth, talking to himself. After Danny had fainted, the static interference had gotten worse, but at least Wally was still there. Dick couldn’t talk his eyes off his boyfriend.

Wally was still there.

Dick brushed his hands through Danny’s hair. They were on the couch, Danny asleep across Dick’s lap. A couch that had been shoved in a corner early on in the sciencing to try and make Danny take breaks. It seems they didn’t do a good enough job.

“Wally,” Dick tried. When he didn’t get through he tried again, louder. “Walls!”

“Yeah Da—Dick! Dick, holy shit,” Wally said and dashed to kneel in front of the couch. “I keep forgetting that — hear me and see — I can hear you! Dick, babe, god I missed you so damn much!”

“Yeah,” Dick said, almost choking on the lump of joy in his throat. “Yeah, I missed so much too. We’ll find a way to get you back out of there. I promise you that we will. Well, I mean, the other’s will mostly unless you need a daring, acrobatic rescue.”

“Hey,” Wally said, voice so soft it was hard to hear over the static. “Never — to a — cue from you. You’re my knight in —. Always.”

“Always,” Dick agreed. He let his head fall back against the couch. “Fuck I need to take this domino off before I fill it up with tears.”

“Even though—” Wally motioned to Danny.

“Yeah. It will be easier if we stop caring about hiding. Besides, daddy Bat looked Danny up, he really was a teen hero. If anyone can understand it, he can,” Dick pointed out. “Raven gave him the okay too. He does just want to help.”

“Wants to — much!” Wally ranted and threw his hands up into the air.

“Yeah, he does doesn’t he? He’ll fit right in with that,” Dick replied. At Wally’s glare he just laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. We’re all horrible. If we weren’t, you wouldn’t be stuck in the Speed Force.”

Wally’s face immediately fell at that. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you were doing what you do, being a hero. I’m just glad that we have a real shot at getting you back,” Dick said with a little shake of his head. “The others will tattle on me and how much I’ve not been okay, I’m sure.”

“You’ve got to — of yourself, Dick,” Wally said. “I need you to be — when I get back.”

“I will,” Dick promised. “I have been been trying to, it’s just been hard. And I’ll make sure to look after this idiot too. Though I’ll need your help, you seem to be able to sense how he is in a way that we can’t.”

“— been watching him for months. Also, Speed Froce,” Wally said. “He — help. He’s… a good person.”

“And someone you’re fond of, right? No, hey, don’t look ashamed. Sure, it’s been a while since either of us did anything with anyone else, but it’s not like we ever closed the our relationship up.”

Wally still glanced away. Rubbing nervously at his arm. It would be cute if it wasn’t a little heartbreaking. They’d had an open relationship because of Dick. Wally had dated a few other people and joined in the occasional threesome, but nothing like Dick’s clubbing hay days. This was maybe something they should have talked about once Dick had started to settle down more.

“Just — only person I could see and hear. I — and I guess that —” Wally tried to explain.

“Walls, I’ve been dating you for how long? I know what you look like when you’re crushing,” Dick said. “And it’s okay.”

Wally cleared his throat and tried to pretend like he wasn’t blushing. “— blame me? He’s — black hair and blue eyes and is compassionate and smart! — my type, like you should know!”

Dick just laughed. A warm, deep laugh like he hadn’t been able to do while Wally was gone. God it was so good to have him back, even if it wasn’t all the way yet. “Okay, well, Danny sees absolutely out of it, so how about I call the others down so that they can see you? They might stab me if I keep you all to myself.”

“Yes!” Wally agreed so eagerly that Dick had his phone out in and instant to message the other Titans, weird glitchy picture of Wally grinning wildly included.