#how dare I forget to blog these | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hongcherry · 10 months ago

Text

on my mind || l.c (m)

The handsome stranger at the pool gives you an experience you won't forget.

💦 Pairing: idol!Chan (Dino) x stranger!Reader (f) 💦 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); smut (!!!), fluff, some angst; idol au, strangers to lovers au 💦 Warnings: Pet names (baby, pretty girl, beautiful), public/pool sex (bc of those pictures), unprotected sex (be safe!), no prep (be safe again!), bigDick!Chan, breast play, lowkey sad ending 💦 Word Count: 3.4k 💦 Author’s Note: Oh Lee Chan... How dare you do this to me 😩 (and ty @okiedokrie for beta'ing!!! 🥰)

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

“You know you’ve been staring for the past thirty minutes, right?”

Your gaze snaps up from your book. The handsome stranger stares down at you, water droplets dripping from his hair and down his sculpted body. You force your eyes to stay on his, but all you want to do is follow the water south.

You had hoped to be more discreet earlier, but supposedly you failed.

“S-Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew,” you lie.

The man’s lips tilt in a knowing smirk. His expression fans the heat in your belly.

“Am I?” he questions.

“No,” you reply and avert your focus on your book again. “Sorry.”

You expect him to leave, but he still blocks the sun from your view. When you realize he’s not moving, you look up again.

He beams a charming smile.

“What brings you here?” he asks.

You rest your book on your lap, keeping a finger between the pages as a bookmark.

“Paid for the pool, might as well use it,” you chuckle.

He laughs and glances back at the water. “You’re not really using it, though.”

You bite your lip. You were going to, but seeing the stranger and his friends play in it, made you want to watch rather than join. However, his friends had just left and now it was only you two.

“I used it earlier,” you lie again.

He cocks his head to the side. “Do you always lie to strangers?”

“What?” Your eyes widen; your heart races.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks, abruptly switching topics. His pretty smile falters as if realizing his friendliness has taken a turn.

You sit up and shake your head. “No! You’re not. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says and looks away for the first time. He glides a hand over his hair. The muscles in his arms bulge at the motion, and you force your thoughts to stay PG.

“I should head inside. It was nice meeting you,” he says, barely making eye contact.

You place your book down and rise to your feet. You tentatively reach out and brush your fingertips against his forearm to stop him from leaving.

He turns to you fully again.

“I’m Yn,” you introduce, hoping that will make him stay.

He gives you a tiny smile, answering sheepishly. “Chan.”

Is he shy now? You almost giggle at his change in attitude.

“What brings you here?” you reuse his question.

“Work,” he replies.

You glance around at the upscale hotel. “Must be a nice job.”

“It is,” he says.

Sensing he still feels nervous, you glance at the pool. “Join me for a swim?”

His brown eyes grow. For a second you think he’ll decline, but he nods and walks to the stairs. He takes the steps carefully and when he’s at the bottom, he holds out a hand.

You don’t need his guidance, but you accept his offer—if only to feel his strong hand around yours.

You let out a small gasp at the cold water. He chuckles as he watches you tense up.

He steps toward you and runs his hands over your arms carefully, not wanting to overstep a boundary. However, he must feel how you feel. There’s something between you two that makes you want to skip a few imaginary steps from strangers to friendship to maybe something more.

Your lips pull in a smile as he warms you.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

He nods then slowly steps away. He looks around; his sight snags on a volleyball floating at the other end.

“Want to play?” he asks, gesturing to the ball.

“Okay,” you reply. Hopefully doing so will alleviate some of the timidness.

Chan swims to retrieve it. As he does so, you sink into the water to get used to the temperature. You take the moment to admire Chan’s back muscles. They ripple with every movement he makes, and you wonder how they’d feel under your hands.

When he turns and catches you staring, he smiles. You glance away, embarrassed at having been caught.

“I kinda liked having your eyes on me,” he says playfully when he nears.

You tuck your chin down and fidget under the water.

He chuckles and taps a finger under your chin to get your attention.

“Ready to play?” he questions.

Eager to change the topic, you nod and stand.

Chan’s gaze follows the water rolling down your body. You’re glad to see he feels the same way for you.

You reach out to grab the ball and Chan snaps his eyes up, only now realizing he was staring. It’s his turn to look embarrassed.

Granting him the same courtesy, you let the moment go.

“First to ten wins?” you ask.

Chan swallows the lump in his throat and nods.

You take a few steps back before you toss the ball in the air. With your hands clasped, you hit it with your forearms, sending it in his direction.

Chan mimics your pose and bumps it back to you; however, it falls short and you miss it.

“First point goes to me,” Chan smiles. He pushes the water to make the ball float to you.

“Isn’t it your turn?” you wonder and grab the ball.

He shrugs as if to say it doesn’t matter. You nod and toss it in the air before you hit it.

You and Chan play until it’s four to two.

Chan eyes the ball in the air and then hits it with his hand.

You move to the side and hit the ball, though, it goes more up than out.

Chan rushes to it. He reaches out to volley it back but slips on the pool’s tiles. You don’t have enough time to react as his body collides with yours and slams you both under the water.

He scrambles to stand and lifts you by your sides to surface you.

You inhale a breath as soon as you can.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaims, holding you tight in case you might fall back under.

A mixture of laughter and gasping comes from you. It’s probably not a pretty sound, but Chan smiles anyway. The worry etched on his face slowly fades.

“Does this mean I won?” you ask between giggles.

Chan laughs and nods. His wet hair sticks to his forehead and his torso shines under the sunlight. He’s beaming that handsome smile, the one that reads happiness and confidence. You really like his smile.

“Only because I’m disqualified for body slamming you,” he replies.

You shrug as if it doesn't matter. “It was fun.”

Chan raises his brows. “Being body-slammed?”

Another shrug. “It didn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad,” Chan says.

“So, what do I win?” you ask playfully.

It’s not until Chan squeezes your waist that you remember he’s still holding onto you. However, you don’t pull away. His touch feels nice.

“What do you want?” he questions in return.

You take the tiniest step forward.

“Something unforgettable.”

Chan’s eyes flicker to your lips.

“I can do that,” he whispers confidently. Then not even a second later, his lips are on yours.

Your mouths move in a heated kiss, tongues already sliding against each other. You’re quick to meet the other halfway to connect your bodies. Your soft breasts push against his hard chest.

Chan’s hands glide up and down your sides, thumbs brushing the side of your breasts. Meanwhile, your arms wrap around his neck, a hand caressing the back of his head to keep him close to you.

Needing to feel him more, you grab one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts.

Chan moans into the kiss and automatically squeezes them. He slips his hand beneath your swim top to feel you directly.

You pull from the kiss with a gasp and a moan.

Chan takes the opportunity to slide your top up, gathering it under your arms. He marvels at your exposed chest and cups your breasts in his strong hands. He pushes them up, rolling the flesh in his palms before pinching your nipples.

You mewl at the pleasurable pain, which causes Chan to smirk. He alternates between massaging your breasts and twisting your nipples between his fingers. You can feel how much he wants you against your body. It makes you eager to feel him inside you.

You grab his hands and gently pull them off. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. After giving him a reassuring smile, you lean forward to peck his lips.

Your kisses trail south, along his jawline, down the column of his neck, and in between the valley of his pecks. You take a detour to flick your tongue against one of his nipples, eliciting a small moan from Chan.

Your tongue plays with it before moving to the other and repeating your actions before continuing downward.

Chan watches attentively as you trace his defined muscles with your tongue. You ignore the slight chlorine taste as you lick his abs, tongue dipping in the divots of his body. You’d be ashamed of yourself if you weren’t so aroused.

Though, Chan doesn’t seem bothered at all as he stares down with darkened eyes and an open mouth. You kiss just above his swim trunks, a grin taking over your mouth.

“Shit, come here, pretty girl,” he mutters and pulls you up.

The disappointment of almost sucking his cock evaporates as soon as he kisses you roughly. He leads you both to the shallower part of the pool.

When he comes up for air, he takes a quick glance around. The area is empty.

He reaches out to grab a flat inflatable lounger that floats by.

“Get on,” he instructs softly and holds it in place.

You carefully ascend the floatie. Thankfully, the trees in the area block the sun from your eyes when you lay.

“Move down more,” he says, still holding it tight so it doesn’t flip from under you. “Wrap your legs around me.”

You scoot lower until your ass is toward the bottom of the lounger, legs around Chan’s waist to keep steady. You suck in a breath when his hard cock brushes your clothed center.

“You ever done this before?” you wonder, taking in your position. The height of the water makes the floatie align perfectly with his pelvis.

He chuckles. “Nope, so if this goes horribly wrong, I apologize in advance.”

You laugh. “I forgive you in advance.”

Chan grins and moves one hand to circle your clit while the other gropes your breasts. Your body jerks at his touch. The fast motions against your clit combined with the rough squeezes of your breasts heighten your arousal.

“I need to feel you, Chan,” you whimper.

“You are feeling me,” he teases, hands moving a little rougher to indicate what he’s referring to.

You whine pathetically as you buck your hips. “Inside me.”

Chan’s movements slow down.

“Okay, let me,” he begins to say as he trails a hand lower to your core.

You shake your head, grabbing his hand. You know he means to prep you, but you’re too eager.

“Just want your cock,” you beg. “Please.”

A smirk forms on his lips. He slowly takes his hands off your body, and you pull him closer with your legs, thinking he’s about to leave you.

“Easy there, beautiful,” he says and rubs your thighs comfortingly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once his words register, you nod sheepishly and ease your grip around him. Smiling, he tugs his swim trunks down enough to free his cock. Your pussy gets wetter at the sight of him.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” he asks and pulls your swim bottoms to the side. His focus flickers between your eyes and your dripping core.

“Okay,” you answer, eager for him to fill you.

Chan carefully inches closer and then gathers some of your arousal with his tip. You hold your breath in anticipation.

When Chan’s tip finally slips inside, your mouth falls open with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sliding in gradually. You’re so tight around him.

“Open up for me, baby,” he coos and starts to rub your clit again. “Let me fill this pussy all the way.”

Your hands clutch the sides of the inflatable lounger. His girth stretches you in a way you haven’t experienced before. You focus on the circular motions against your clit, easing your body and letting Chan enter you easier.

“There you go, pretty girl,” he praises, pushing in the last of his cock.

“So big,” you mumble. You shift slightly and moan at the sensation. Chan’s circles on your bud falter.

“And you’re taking me so well,” he says with a smile.

He stays sheathed inside you for a minute. Your hips buck every so often from him stimulating your clit. Each movement makes you whine or moan from feeling Chan’s cock rub against your walls.

“Can I move?” he questions; there’s no pressure in his voice.

You nod.

Chan rearranges his hands to hook under your thighs. His palms the top of your thighs to ease any nerves you may have. Though, you’re not nervous at all. You may have just met Chan, but you know he’ll never hurt you. He’s been attentive to your needs and your comfort since he first spoke to you.

Slowly, Chan glides out halfway. The drag of his cock feels heavenly.

Then, he pushes back in.

He does this motion slowly, making sure you get used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls.

“Faster, C-Chan,” you say. Every glide feds the fire in your belly. Whatever pain or discomfort you were feeling has disappeared. In its place is a lust that needs to be quenched.

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod. “Fuck me.”

Chan curses under his breath. His grip on your thighs tightens and his pace gradually picks up.

Before you know it, he’s pounding inside. He uses your legs as leverage, eyes hooded with hunger. Occasionally, his gaze moves up to watch your tits bounce with each slam of his body. The water laps around you both; some of it sloshes over the sides of the pool. The sounds of the water splashing and his skin hitting yours make everything feel sexier. You’re sure this looks like a scene from a porno, but that fact just turns you on more.

“Try to be quieter,” Chan says after a string of loud moans comes from you.

His suggestion barely registers in your mind. “I’ll tr—oh fuck.”

Chan chuckles and slows down. He trails a hand up your body to caress your face. His thumb glides along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting it snap back in place.

When he goes to do it again, you open your mouth wider and suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, sight locked on your puckered lips.

Chan moves his other hand to grip your hip. He begins to transition from powerful thrusts to sensual glides. He rolls his hips expertly against yours. Although they’re not fast motions, the slow slides in and out have your eyes rolling back. You hadn’t expected him to know how to move like this, but it’s obvious he’s skilled. You briefly wonder where the skill stems from. Has he had lots of practice having sex, or did he move his body in other ways a lot? His smooth motions remind you of a talented dancer.

“You feel so good,” he rasps and pulls his thumb from your mouth. He wipes your salvia along your lips, making them shine.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, increasing his speed.

You nod, a choked cry escaping you when Chan connects his thumb to your clit again. He rubs it harshly while rocking into your cunt.

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, but it’s difficult when Chan’s fucking you so well.

Your legs tighten around Chan as the fire grows. It builds and builds until it’s too much to bear. Your walls flutter around his cock and before you can warn Chan, you’re cumming hard.

Chan continues to circle your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He only removes his hand when you squirm from his bruising touch.

“Think you can hold out a little longer, pretty girl?” he asks.

In a haze, you nod.

Chan unwraps your legs, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you ever so slightly. The new angle lets him go a little deeper.

You clutch the floatie and hope you don’t pop the damn thing.

Chan’s hips snap into you fast and hard, driving you absolutely wild. More moans spill from his mouth as he nears his climax. You think he sounds so pretty, but you don’t stay on the thought for long. It’s hard to focus.

“Oh fuck,” he groans and pulls out quickly. He pumps his cock, abs clenching with furrowed brows.

Soon, your tummy is covered in white. Chan’s head rolls back as he releases his load over your body. You and Chan stay still, panting and coming down from your highs together.

Chan takes in a long inhale and finally looks down. His eyes scan the mess he made on you and your fucked-out expression.

He laughs softly. He tucks himself back in his swim trunks then reaches out to fix both pieces of your swimsuit. Afterwards, his hands swipe at the cum, gently cleaning off your body.

Chan leans down to wrap his arms around you. He carefully lifts you off the floatie and onto the pool floor. He keeps his arms in place as he stares with a big smile.

“How’s that for unforgettable?” he asks.

You lean into him, hands massaging his shoulders and neck. You feel dazed and overjoyed.

“I fear you may haunt my dreams,” you reply teasingly.

“Haunt?” He chuckles. “Wouldn’t I be blessing them instead?”

You laugh, shrugging. “Depends on if I can see you again.”

Chan’s smile suddenly turns into a sad one.

“I don’t know,” he replies.

“I can’t get your number?” you ask, heart filling with lead and weighing it down. You just met the man but the thought of never seeing him again cracks your heart.

He rubs his lips together in thought. Though before he replies, the sound of an opening door interrupts the conversation.

Two men peek their heads out. From your position, Chan’s back faces them.

“There you are,” one of them says. His smile is as bright as the sun.

Chan twists in your arms to see who it is. He must recognize the men. The aforementioned people drift their gaze to you. You can tell they want to tease Chan, but they don’t. They’re probably saving it for later.

“Do we have a schedule?” Chan asks.

“No,” the other with glasses says. “We just thought you were coming back with us, but no one’s seen you.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Chan replies.

“Don’t stay out too long,” the first says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Chan says.

The men give you both a knowing smile, then leave the area.

Chan exhales a deep breath and slips from your hold. He takes your hand, leading you out of the water.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” you ask, trying to hide your disappointment. You do a poor job.

Chan sighs and grabs the towel you had. He wraps it around your body and rubs your hands that hold onto the material.

“Maybe I’ll see you before I go?” he says, but you’re unsure if it’s a wish or a question.

“Maybe,” you say.

Chan cycles through his thoughts before speaking.

“I had a nice time, Yn. I won’t forget you.”

Your heart churns as if you’re going through a breakup. Your eyes quickly dance across his face, attempting to memorize every detail. You get the sense he’s doing the same.

“Me too” is all you say. You also had a nice time, and you definitely won’t forget this man. Not only because of the mind-blowing sex but also because he seems like a person you’d want in your life.

Chan leans in and kisses you. Unlike before, this one is slower. He takes his time moving his lips and gliding his tongue. There’s passion behind his movements that makes you crave to be more than strangers. This man oozes love, and you wish you could receive it wholeheartedly.

Maybe things wouldn’t have worked out, but something in your gut says even if you were to be loved by him for only a little while, it would’ve been worth it.

Chan would’ve shown you how it would feel to be truly adored.

A/N: rip the contaminated pool 🥲

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

1K notes · View notes

stvolanis · 10 months ago

Text

the taste of metal traced his tongue that danced between your thighs. The graze of his sharpened teeth pricking at the flesh of your skin. The fanning of his breath sending a chill down your spine as he drew closer to your core, where you needed him most. A desperate craving to feel any part of him, in fear you might never again. His fangs that sank into your thighs, marking you for anyone else who dared get close enough to see.

“No one will ever have you like I do.” He whispered, his voice eerily calm considering the vile things he was doing to you. Your panties pushed to the side, a wet tongue pressed to your clit, making you jolt from the sudden pressure. Your hand found his hair, gripping it rather harshly. Any mortal would have wept, but Armand was no mortal. No silly boy playing around with a lack of experience. No, he was a man who had been alive 514 exhausting years, the least he could do is learn how to properly please a woman.

It was a game he played. He always won. You liked to tell yourself it’s because you let him, but you knew better. Like prey being hunted, every time you grasped your freedom, Armand would find you. Claw you back in, and leave you little room to escape. A game of cat and mouse, that usually ended with you in the same coffin as him. You couldn’t think straight, not with his voice filling your head even as he ate you out like blood was nothing compared to your juices.

“Foolish girl. Ungrateful for the dark gift given to you. Eating mice and goats, rather than humans. Have you any idea how hard of a task it was to not drain you dry when I turned you?” His voice echoed in your head like an unwanted siren. “Get out. Out of my head, maitre.” You shook your head back and forth at the overwhelming pleasure as his fingers prodded your entrance. “I made you. Don’t forget that. So silence, so I can do as I please with you, fledgling.”

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @luxuriouslokistan-3 @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @peterpan-neverfails-blog @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @theoraeken

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

989 notes · View notes

gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Not Now (PT. 1)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Mild Arguing, Awkward Tension(?)]

(Sorry, forgive and forget isn't an option anymore. Sort of proofread and lightly edited. If you thought the 2nd chapter was long, you're in for a little treat. A little more focus on Dick this time with some sprinkles of the others, and a bit of Tim in the beginning. Meeting some of the reader's friends now. The 2nd part is longer... and sort of where the 'real' stuff happens, but this part of the chapter is still important imo. Take your time reading this, and remember to take breaks!)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain, @d4mi3nn , @mindscape123, @143637-hrrm, @lilyalone, @ceramic-raven , @bruhfan-3 , @i-thirsty-boi , @yandere-enthusiast , @1mawh0re , @vanessa-boo , @agent-nobody-knows , @myeagleexpert , @waitingforanarchicaddiction , @mottysith , @simpingfor-wakasa , @imjustheretogetalif , @toast-on-dandelioms , @instantmiraclekryptonite , @luvr0cksadie , @littlefeather345 , @generosityheart , @emmbny , @sereinitysmind , @love-zami , @angstylittleb1tch , @kiiyoooo , @andrasia , @aenishas , @gyarukitti , @ash1 , @samohxt2-0 , @books-are-everything , @kurai-hono-blog , @veryrascalbiscuitbagel , @lavender-moony

@vikkus-main, @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha, @iloveanimeandkpop7, @spacecerealbowl,

If you aren't tagged then I'm sorry! I may have missed you, or tumblr was being weird and it wouldn't work :']

Chapter 3 of this post. Chapter 2. Part 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

The night was young when everything went to chaos.

The streets were empty for a change, with no one daring to step outside. With those who once roamed them making an effort to quickly step inside, and wait out the rest of the night. Deciding to be more careful, and not tempt fate one too many times for once.

There was something different about tonight, that much everyone knew, but what exactly was going on was anyone's guess. Something was in the air that made it thicker, and harder to breathe. The atmosphere felt different, and weighed down on the city's residents. No civilian or thug was safe from the sudden change and the effects it had on Gotham. Not to mention that the vigilantes — the people who dared to protect Gotham during its darkest hours — seemed more focused than usual.

Not in the way where they were more focused on targeting crime in Gotham, and getting rid of her more corrupted and infectious roots, but in some… other way. Like they were focusing on one particular thing, and ignoring everything else in the process.

What that thing is, no one knew, but most were wary and cautious enough to not get in the way. Unwilling to find out what would happen if they got caught in the crossfire of whatever was happening.

However, this is still Gotham. Where some saw danger, others saw opportunity. So they tried to start something, thinking they could sneak right past the heroes of the city, and fly under their radar more easily compared to previous nights because of how focused they seemed to be on something else.

Yet, just as the fire began to lit, it was snuffed out.

A heavy stomp stopped the flames from even daring to light, killing it before it could even think to rise. The stomp itself coming down much more swiftly and heavier than before, digging the thugs it hit into the ground. They, the vigilantes who dared to protect Gotham and their citizens night after night, were harsher that way. More brutal than the city had ever seen them before, and that was quick to kill off some sparks that were trying to light. They were quicker, faster, and hit a whole lot harder. As if just wanting to get things over with, and quickly move on.

It was almost like they were rushing, and whoever thought that wouldn't be entirely wrong.

They just wanted to put all of their time and energy into finding you, but still had half a mind to take care of the crime in Gotham. Since, they'd have to deal with it anyway if they wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. Not to mention the off chance that some thugs could be messing with you, and so they'd get to swoop in and save you if they ever ran into such an altercation. Though, they didn't want to run around and just hope for that chance, so they also chose certain places and people to interrogate and search for. Taking out any and all thugs as well as minor criminals along the way.

As if anyone in their way was doomed from the day they were born, and dared to step foot in Gotham. As if they were cursed the very moment they dared to live in this damned city at all.

Nevertheless, some went after your teachers while others went to search through places you had been to for one reason or another. Whether it was for a performance or otherwise, it didn't matter. The fact that you had been there before was the only detail they cared about.

Finding you, and any information about you came first. Everything else was secondary.

That's why Tim was more focused on trying to find more… personal information about you. From your email, to where you lived, and who your friends are — he wanted to know everything. Even if he already had your phone number, you weren't responding or picking up whatsoever. Which wasn't exactly helping him calm down.

If only he could track your phone somehow-

["You have any new information yet?"]

Jason suddenly spoke up, making Tim scoff and narrow his eyes at the computer screen he was looking at, as if it was Jason's face.

How annoying.

"You've asked that question several times in the last fifteen minutes."

["And? Do you have any new information, or what?”]

Tim could only roll his eyes, having been scrolling through so many social media posts and pages, that he had lost count of exactly how many he had gone through or looked at. All he knew was that the total amount was quickly approaching triple digits.

Anything mentioning you caught his interest, and eventually he had found your public account — which, as expected, just held dates for your performances and when a new album or song of yours would be coming out. There were also a few previews of songs you would be playing at the time, had written, or both, and as much as Tim would like to listen to them all, he couldn't. Not right now anyway. He had to focus, for you.

… Though he'd keep it in mind for later.

"Besides more places where Y/n has performed, and when? No. Who could've guessed."

Jason scoffs, which almost made Tim smile a little but he quickly wiped it off his face, focusing again.

["Guys, let's not fight, alright? Just focus on finding Y/n."]

Dick suddenly spoke as well, the sounds of a fight slowly dying down could faintly be heard in the background.

["I'm not trying to start a fight, but y'know what would help with finding Y/n? Some fucking new information."]

["Language!" Dick sighs before continuing, "Look, just calm down-"]

["I am calm."]

["-and focus. We'll find them."]

Jason clicks his tongue, clearly getting upset.

Tim couldn't say much, seeing as he's already a bit upset himself, but that wasn't really saying much either. All of them were getting progressively frustrated and annoyed, but it was the source of those feelings that were different for each and every one of them. You were a big part of it, of course, but their anger wasn't directed towards you — not for Tim, anyway. Never.

Rather, it's the factors that surrounded you, and maybe their hate and guilt towards themselves, and what they've missed in your life — is what really drove them to try as hard as they are now. They all want to see you, but they have their own separate reasons despite how similar they may seem.

["How the hell can you be so sure? They could be getting killed, or being tortured right now. We need to find them as soon as possible- and you'll never guess what we need for that to happen."]

Tim could practically hear the eye roll in Jason's voice.

["We're all trying to find Y/n as fast as we can! Have a little faith, they can fight-"]

["You don't actually believe that, right?"]

["..."]

Dick's silence spoke volumes, but some of them understood it better than others, because they feel the same way. Fighting in tournaments and in controlled environments is different than fighting out in the streets, and in Gotham no less. No amount of trophies or medals could change their minds on that. Nothing could.

["See? Even you don't believe it."]

[Dick sighs, "Look, let's just keep looking while Babs and Tim grab more information, alright? We have to be patient."]

["That's reeeal rich coming from the guy who rushed out of the fucking Manor, the very second he heard Alfred didn't know where Y/n was. Weren't you the first one to start looking for them in the city?"]

["Y/n isn't going to be dead in the next few minutes, Jason-"]

["You don't fucking know that."]

Again, a brief silence passes as Dick just sighs again.

["Grayson does have a point, Todd."]

Damian spoke up, causing Tim to roll his eyes almost instinctively. Just remembering that he was technically working with the youngest Wayne, made his mood worsen. Though he just pushed his annoyance to the side, and continued his search.

If it were up to him, he wouldn't be working with half of the family, but that's the thing — he didn't have a choice. None of them really did. Finding you was just that important to them. You, in general, had become that important to them, and in just a few mere hours no less. Even if it left a few of them biting their tongues, and hiding their clear distaste for having to work with certain people. Still, they tried to work together to the best of their ability.

Tim just took a breath, still listening in on the conversation as he scrolls through even more websites and pages. A collection of photos and announcements leading him down a rabbit hole of posts, and finding some accounts that Tim was beginning to think belonged to your friends with how often they commented, the things they'd say, and how you'd respond. Even if the majority of those comments were on older posts, it was still something. So, he dug deeper.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that your personal account was private. Since, he found one of the accounts he thought belonged to one of your friend's, and they mentioned an account Tim couldn't access. Of course, he hacked it and got in, but there still wasn't anything of use from what he could see. The occasional pictures were nice, even if they didn't show your face too often, but they didn't give him any information he could use to locate you. Hell, even the account itself didn't have a set location listed, and nor did your email. With the only thing he could gather from posts you privated being that you were still in Gotham, at the very least.

However it did seem like you not only didn't post too often, but were careful about what you posted even on your private account. Not to mention who you posted about as well, and how you worded things. As if you knew someone would be looking through your posts someday, and try to find you. As if you knew Tim would be looking through your page, and try to find you by the little bits of information he thought you'd accidentally leave behind. However, all he found was mostly inconclusive with his current objective. The most he could gather was that you either lived in an apartment, were staying with a friend, or settling at various hotels and such just to have a roof over your head. Though not much else.

Sighing, he kept looking.

Just where are you?

["Oh yeah? How so, demon spawn?"]

["Jason-!"]

["L/n knows how to fight, they can surely take care of themself for a few minutes." Damian states. Cutting off Dick, and ignoring the name Jason used to refer to him.]

["Oh, so you believe that?" Jason scoffs.]

["I haven't been given a reason to think otherwise."]

["Right. Okay. So let's say that Y/n isn't dead for a second here. Do you know how many enemies they could potentially have? Or just how many people want them dead? They're known as a Wayne kid, and a musician too, apparently. Anyone could be after their head, or want to squeeze some money out of them for all we know. How are they supposed to fight against threats like that?"]

["And you think they aren't prepared for that? With how much time has passed, I doubt they'd still remain ignorant to such risks. Especially with the career they've chosen as well." Damian scoffs, as if frustrated and offended on your behalf, "No wonder L/n left."]

["Damian!" Dick exclaims, the youngest Robin's words clearly uncalled for.]

["What? You don't truly believe they just ‘ran away’. Do you, Grayson? Even Father doesn't believe such nonsense."]

Tim could only remain silent, but he had suspected as much as well. He didn't particularly enjoy agreeing with Damian, but for a change, it seemed that they were on the same page.

After all, the more Tim looked, and the deeper his research went, the possibility of you having left, instead of ran away, was turning into a clear certainty. Not to mention that various details he noticed in different posts, seemed to indicate that you had no intentions of coming back home, further proving that thought to be true.

It wasn't really even through posts you made either, but instead posts your friends had made. Various pictures and videos shared on their accounts showing the pieces of your life that the family had missed out on. Showing Tim what he had missed out on.

From parties and celebrations that were held for your accomplishments and your friend's, to events you attended with them instead of someone from your family. To smaller things such as various study sessions that were held, sleepovers and all the fun activities you did with your friends, to sneaky photos taken of you practicing, and how nervous you used to be behind stage — only to later show how confident and comfortable you had grown in more recent pictures.

He saw your life and nearly every part of it he had missed through someone else's eyes. Through the camera lens that captured how much fun you had, or just how happy you were during the time the photo was taken, or how calm you looked as you set up your instrument and prepared to play it, and how focused you became when you did. Videos that showed you getting into the zone, and displaying your amazing skill and talent that Tim never saw up until now. That the rest of the family never knew about until recently, just because they couldn't put a few seconds to the side to even try and give your music a listen. Just because they never made time for you, and now they were finally paying the price for it. Finally realizing what they had truly lost, and why the occasional, soft melodies that would play at night had stopped entirely.

They had pushed you away, and you left. That was the true reality of the situation.

Yet the others didn't seem to believe it, or maybe refused to. Seeing as no one dared to say anything else for a few moments.

["... Bruce?" Dick hesitantly spoke up, he clearly didn't want to think about it. Let alone consider it.]

A heavy sigh could be heard before Bruce said anything.

["It's a possibility." His cold, calculated voice pierced through the air. It was less clear, but he didn't seem too fond of the idea either.]

["'Possibility'? Father, you can't be serious-" Damian tries to speak up, only to get cut off.]

["Exactly! Yeah! It's only a possibility, and we won't know for sure unless we find them." Stephanie pitches in, clearly trying to stay a little positive despite the situation.]

["Right…" Dick took a breath, "Well, what do you think, Tim?"]

"..."

Tim's silence said everything, and besides, he was much too focused on a particular thing he managed to find to really be paying attention anyway.

["... Tim?"]

["To think that Drake would be the only other sensible person here. Unbelievable."]

["Look- we don't know for sure, okay? But anyway, how did the interrogation go? Find out anything?"]

The rest of the conversation fell into the background. Tim would roll his eyes, but again, something else had caught his attention, seeing as he found a rather peculiar post.

On one of your friends' accounts, there was a post that showed you and two other people. All of you were wearing formal clothes, and stepping out of a theater that Tim recognized. The person taking the selfie had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, and he noted that they were the owner of the account. The other person was hugging your arm, and did bunny ears behind your head. All of you were smiling, and you looked so… happy..

Tim shook his head, and just focused on the individual hugging your arm. He didn't recognize them, not completely anyway, but noticed how their account was tagged in the post, and how it was an account he hadn't looked into yet. So, he went to their page and scrolled through their various posts. A particular detail already catching his interest as he scrolled down.

This person seemed to spend a lot of time with you…

Not that your other friends didn't, but this person seemed to have more posts with you in them, compared to the other accounts Tim has looked through thus far. There were many photos of you both hanging out, with some other personal posts sprinkled in here and there — but Tim isn't here for that. He's looking for you, so of course he ignored posts that didn't involve you.

Most of the photos showed you both hanging out and doing various activities together. With Tim's heart squeezing the more he saw, and further began to realize just how much of your life he had missed. Though he pushed it all to the side, just as he has been doing this entire time.

He could feel terrible about all the nights you spent away from home, and how no one noticed, later. He could feel guilty about all the time he's wasted not being with you when given the chance after he found you.

Only then, once you were safe again, once you were home, would he allow himself to feel the full weight of all he hadn't done. Though only when you were home, would he let himself fully see and realize just how little of an impact he had on your life. How he may as well have just been nothing but a figment of your imagination with how often he was present, along with everyone else.

Though, for that, he had to find you first, and he will, so he kept looking.

Eventually, he did stumble across a curious post. One that not only confirmed his suspicions, but also gave the most important piece of information Tim could've found right now.

It was another photo taken without your knowledge, seeing as your back was facing the camera, and a bit of your friend's face could be shown. You were moving some boxes into a building, and your friend seemed to be covering their mouth with their other hand — as if they had been laughing and were trying to cover it up. The caption of the post said how you lost a bet, and now had to move in most of the boxes yourself, but how they'd help you if they saw you genuinely struggling. Only to put in parentheses how viewers of the post shouldn't tell you that.

However, what caught his interest was the text on the image itself, and what parts of the building were shown.

['First day of moving in!!! Already making my bestie hate me by having them do all of the work♡ They're the best! Look at them go ♡♡'] The text in the photo read, with the building itself having a number, among various other details to suggest that it was an apartment building.

Tim felt his heart leap to his throat. No way, had he really…? No. No, he couldn't get his hopes up, but he searched for the building by using the other photos your friend had taken that eventually got him a street name and number. It didn't even take him a minute to find the exact building that perfectly mirrored the one in your friend's photo.

He tried to not work himself up too much, as he didn't waste any time finding the building's security system, and hacking into it. He didn't want to get his hopes up, only to end up disappointed. He didn't want to think about certain things or make up assumptions, only for them to turn up untrue. Yet, his heart rate increased as his hands began to shake despite his efforts.

No way, he thought. No way.

Getting into the system was a breeze, but Tim could hardly focus on that as he immediately looked through the building's security footage. He matched the dates of both the post and footage, and found you bringing in boxes, just as the photo had shown.

He watched you go into the elevator and took note of what floor you went up to, and eventually what apartment you walked into as well once you got there. Tim even observed as you took a second to yourself, sighing before going back down, and doing the process all over again — and even how you had to use the stairs at one point. Seeing as your friend had the bright idea to 'race' you, and see who could get most of the remaining boxes to the apartment in the least amount of time. It was a close tie, and your friend had won, but that's besides the point.

Tim went through other footage just to make sure he had the right information, and knew for certain that you lived in this particular apartment with your friend. For all he knew, you could've just offered to help them move in that day, so he had to be sure. He had to be certain. He couldn't afford to be wrong this time around.

Yet with all the footage he was able to review, and all the dates getting closer and closer to the current day, he was able to confirm it. He saw you walk in and out of that exact apartment on that exact floor, and leave and enter that exact building multiple times. With the amount of time that's passed, it made sense — even if Tim couldn't figure out where you had stayed between the few weeks you had presumably left the Manor and when you moved in with your friend, but that hardly mattered now. What did matter is that he found out where you live, and now had your address.

He almost couldn't believe it, staring at the document where he has been listing all of the information he's gathered from this search.

Having just finished writing down your address, it all felt so unreal.

He's done it. He's finally done it.

"Holy shit." Tim cursed under his breath, disbelief clear in his voice.

["Language, Tim."]

Bruce's voice suddenly sounded, causing Tim to jump before he quickly tried to settle down.

"Right, sorry." He apologized, placing a hand over his racing heart. God, that scared him more than it should've.

["Did you find anything?"]

Someone tsked at the question – while Tim just looked at his screen, still processing all that's happened, and suddenly feeling unsure.

Should he just keep this to himself, so that he could go after you? The others didn't know where you live… they didn't have to know yet. This was a golden opportunity — should he really be giving this up?

["With how long it's been? And all he's been able to find out? We'll be lucky if he even knows if Y/n is dating or not."]

["Jason, c'mon.." Dick tried to pitch in, dragging on.]

["What? I'm just saying-"]

"I know where Y/n lives." He found himself blurting out, Jason's words irritating him more than they would've. More than they should've.

["... Really? Where are they, Tim?" Dick didn't waste a moment to ask.]

["Yeah, just spill already so we can go get them."]

["Send me their location."]

["Send me the info too!"]

Tim could only sigh, rubbing his temple as he tried to collect his thoughts. Of course he just had to run his mouth before thinking things over. Of course he had to let that little comment get to him. Of course he just had to allow it to get to him so much that it made him give up the most important piece of information he had found out tonight.

Of course. Just great.

["Guys, I don't think it's a good idea for all of you to just go and see Y/n."]

Barbara finally spoke up, voice calm and collected.

["Why? I mean, I get that seeing the whole family all at once might be a little overwhelming… but I don't see why a few of us can't go." Dick questioned.]

["Because it's been months since they've last seen any of us? There's a reason why they haven't gone back to the Manor, and still haven't picked up your or Tim's calls."]

["... You're not saying-"]

["I'm just suggesting that maybe only one of you should go to kind of… test out the waters. We can't be sure of anything, and the best way to see how we should go about things is to know how Y/n feels about us first."]

["But we need to bring them home, they're not safe out here." Jason pointed out, already not liking the idea.]

["I know, but we can't just show up and expect them to comply because we're family. For all we know, they might-"]

["Okay! Um, I think we get it now." Stephanie interrupted, the idea already bothering her.]

["Fine, then I'll go." Jason proposed, sounding like he was just finishing up taking out a few thugs, if the faint noises in the background were anything to go by.]

"And why's that? I already have the location, so I'll go." Tim pointed out, already gathering his stuff, preparing to leave as quickly as he could.

["Because if they try anything, I'll be able to stop them. What're you going to do with your scrawny, lanky arms?"]

"They won't fight me, Jason." Tim sighed, as if that was obvious, "and besides, I thought you didn't think they could fight anyway?"

["I don't, but anyone could take you down without even trying."]

["Jay! Ugh," Dick groans, "Look, I'll go, okay?"]

["Oh yeah? And why should you go instead of me?"]

["Because at least I won't scare them off, and if anything happens then I can handle it too."]

["I'm going." Bruce stepped in, speaking as if the decision was already made.]

["If Father is going, then so am I." Damian chipped in.]

["The last person Y/n needs to see right now is definitely you, demon spawn." Jason scoffed.]

["You'll just scare them before you even get a word in, Bruce!" Dick tried to reason.]

["Hey, um, what if I go instead? At least I won't intimidate them or push them to come with us too hard." Stephanie suggested.]

Tim sighed, "Look, I can go and reason with them. Again, I already have the location so it makes sense-"

["No." Bruce said flatly.]

"But why!?"

["Father already said that he and I are going to see L/n," Damian stated, as if it was obvious, with a small scoff. Adding on, "Todd may also have a point."]

"So?! I already have the information, and I already said that Y/n won't fight me!"

["We can't say for sure what they will and won't do," Dick said, trying to deescalate the situation, "like Babs said, it's been a while. We don't know how they'll react or how they feel about us."]

["Is this you just trying to seem reasonable, so you can go see them first?" Jason asked, unconvinced.]

["What?! Of course not-!"]

["You're not really convincing anyone here, Dick…" Stephanie pointed out.]

The back and forth went on for a while. None of them could come to an agreement, as they all want to see you. They all want to be the first to actually meet you, and to experience what they all have found out about you first hand. Even if certain individuals were more guilty of that than others, the point still remained.

They just want to see you so much, could you really blame any of them?

Barbara sighed at the chaos, the arguments and defenses just getting more and more ridiculous. Eventually, just boiling down to certain people trying to prove that they want to see you more compared to others, and therefore should be the first to see you.

They all miss you, or desperately want to see the idea of you that they had created in their heads, but that wasn't a valid reason for why they should go and see you either. Especially considering how important this meeting would be. Since it would change and determine a lot of things, depending on how well or awful it went.

"Guys, look, just- whoever's the closest to the location should go." Barbara suggested with another sigh, which thankfully caused the constant arguing to stop for now.

["Fine, alright then." Tim agreed, albeit reluctantly.]

Barbara could only be a little thankful for the cooperation, but slowly grew confused at the silence that followed.

"Tim?" She asked, only to get another sigh as a response.

["It's Dick."]

["What? Really?!" Dick exclaimed, clearly happy at this turn of events.]

["Yes." Tim confirmed with a small groan, the frown evident in his voice.]

"Well, that settles it. Dick, you're going. Tim, send him the address. The right address, okay? We don't need more arguments or complications on this." Barbara says, "Don't push them too hard. The last thing we need is for their opinion of us to get worse, Dick."

["I know, I know. It'll be fine! I've got this!" Dick still sounded a little too happy, before suddenly going quiet.]

Barbara could only hope for the best at this rate.

["Did he seriously just turn off his comm link, and leave?" Jason asked as his voice rose, clearly upset.]

["Seems like it. Can't say I'm surprised since he sounded reallly happy to be able to see Y/n." Stephanie confirmed, sighing softly.]

["This is going to go poorly." Damian grimaced with another scoff.]

["Yeah, well, we can only hope he doesn't mess up too badly."]

["Let's try to think a little realistically, Tim." Jason said.]

Barbara just let out a huff as she looked at the screens in front of her. A little hope never killed anyone, but really, she didn't have a good feeling about this.

Maybe Dick really wasn't the best choice.

—

You were still calmly sitting in your apartment, messing around with the instrument in your hands. Since you've been switching between the ones you have every now and again, trying to find a particular melody you were looking for, but hadn't found just yet. You didn't have easy access to as many instruments as you did a few months ago, but you learned to work with what you had. Having taken home the very first instrument you bought yourself, and a few more of your favorites that could fit in the apartment that you managed to get your hands on for a decent price.

Sure, you did have other places you could go to that allowed you to play the other instruments you didn't have, but you liked to play at home if you could help it. There was just something about being in a comfortable space while composing a song or melody, that just felt nice. You truly felt at home, a feeling you didn't realize you missed until you left the manor and finally had a space that you could truly call your own. A feeling you didn't want to let go of, if you could help it.

Your life was still busy but it was beginning to slow down. You dedicated more time to things you actually enjoyed, but also made an effort to take care of yourself and hold onto good habits you had developed over the years. Though you were still trying to let go of some bad ones, you were making progress.

You felt… happy here. At peace, even.

You were surrounded by people that saw you and even recognized you, and were beginning to see that you had a family of your very own all along.

Unlike the family you were adopted into, your friends showed their care and support — and if anything, made sure you wouldn't forget it. With you showing the same care and support back, and your efforts being recognized instead of pushed to the side. Being reciprocated instead of leaving you with nothing, and making you feel more alone and unwanted than words could describe.

Sure, it wasn't perfect, and you've had your fair share of arguments and times where you needed space, but that was okay. You didn't need perfection, and you didn't need constant happiness. You just needed love and care, and that's what you found. Among other things you didn't ask for or necessarily need, but appreciated deeply regardless.

You felt like you had finally found what you've been searching for, and nothing could make you happier.

Yet, somewhere in your heart, you knew it couldn't last forever, and as if hearing your worries, an abrupt knock echoed throughout the apartment.

You paused what you were doing, humming curiously to yourself as you turned to look at the front door from your position on the couch. Who could that be at this hour? It certainly wasn't your roommate, seeing as they were sound asleep in their room, and you could still hear their snores despite being in the living room. So who else could it be?

Maybe it was Ms. Harry again, seeing as she had a bit of an odd tendency to knock on the wrong door sometimes. After all, she was old, and her memory was slowly getting worse, but she was always quick to fix her mistakes. So you just shrugged and turned away, convinced that it was another one of those nights where she just so happened to mistakenly knock on your door. So you let it be, knowing that she'd correct herself on her own and move along.

However, another set of knocks sounded.

They were a little louder this time, as if the person on the other side of the door really did want to be noticed. Which made you pause and look back at the door, taking a brief glance at the clock.

It was getting late, and not many people were out and about during this time of night. Not the people on your floor, anyway. Though, you still tried to think of anyone who could be at the door right now.

Besides your roommate, not many of your friends lived particularly close. With the amount of them that would not only be up at this time of night, but would also personally come to bother you without sending a text or anything, being even smaller. The more you think about it, the shorter the list of potential people got, and you don't know if that should make you more confused or worried. Maybe a bit of both, but you weren't sure.

More knocks sounded. Again, they were louder compared to the last set, if only by a little.

Well, whoever was at your door was being rather persistent, so you decided to at least check it out.

Reluctantly, you set the instrument you had been fiddling with for the past hour to the side. Sighing softly as you got up from your spot on the couch, and quietly approached the door.

Moving about as silently as you could was an odd habit you couldn't shake, and while your friends have joked and commented about it, you suppose it was just another remnant of your life in the manor. A life you were still trying to gradually leave behind.

Regardless, you made your way to the door, and yet here — right at the foot of it, an odd feeling began to blossom in your chest. You couldn't make sense of it, but as you reached for the knob, you found yourself stopping. It didn't feel like a good idea to open the door, and though you couldn't figure out why, you just took a small breath and pushed the feeling to the side.

Clearly, you were having a weird night, but just to humor yourself, you decided to 'comply' with whatever this feeling was, and check who was at the door by looking through the peephole instead.

It was only then did you understand.

You took a few silent steps back, putting your hand over your mouth as you kept your eyes on the door. Tingles of unease slowly crawling down your spine, and your heart began to beat against your chest harshly. You don't know if what you saw was real, but you didn't want to check again. Once felt like enough, especially since your legs felt like they were sinking into the floor.

How… how did they know where you live?

You took a breath, trying to calm your nerves as you took a few more steps away from the door. You have no idea what's going on, but all you know was that you don't want Dick knowing where you live. He might know the floor and building, but you refuse to give him the exact room if you could help it. So, you quickly moved to your room and got ready, a quick plan forming in your head.

Changing was easy, and so was gathering the stuff you thought you'd need for this. Not exactly too worried about the shoes you put on or anything like that, as your heart leapt from your chest to your throat when more knocks came, basically pounding against the door.

Fuck. He was getting impatient.

Picking up the pace, you made any last minute adjustments you could to your appearance, before quickly deciding that you looked good enough to be outside. Rushing to a window, you didn't waste any time opening it, grabbing onto a pipe that was exposed on the side of the building, closing the window, and sliding down the pipe until you reached the ground. Thanking your past self for having done that enough times to be used to it.

Knowing for a fact that you heard more knocks on your way down, you hurriedly rushed back into the apartment building and basically ran to the elevator. Thanking the gods that it had opened when you first called it, you rushed inside and hit the button for your floor. Hurriedly tapping on the button that closed the elevator doors as they slowly shut, as if that would make them move faster somehow.

As the elevator rose, you prayed that it wouldn't stop and that it'd go straight up to your floor, not knowing if you could afford to risk losing time like that. Especially when the thought of a certain vigilante breaking down your door because you didn't answer it, popped into your head.

Your hands were sweaty, your heart was racing, and you could hardly stand still as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor. Staring at the counter above the elevator buttons as if that'd make the numbers go up faster, and occasionally glancing at the doors as if they'd open at any moment. Questions and possibilities rushed through your head, but you hardly had any time to think about any of them as a small ding sounded, and the doors finally opened. Ignoring how the small sound made you jump a bit, you tried not to look too nervous as you stared at the hallway in front of you.

Oh god, you were really doing this.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you stepped out of the elevator and took a breath. Trying to calm down your heart a bit as you gathered your composure, and acted as normally as you could manage. Walking forward, you rounded the corner, and there he was in all of his tainted glory.

"Di- I- I mean, Nightwing?" You call out, trying to grab the vigilante's attention before he did anything rash — and you seem to have caught him at just the right moment. As he seemed just about ready to bust open the lock to your door, and break into your apartment. Which, he thankfully pulls away as he whips around to look at you, clearly surprised.

You were almost too grateful to have caught him just in time.

"What are you doing here?" You took a few steps forward, but nothing more. Not wanting your efforts to go to waste right away, even if you knew it was only a matter of time when it came to these guys.

"Oh! Y/n- hi! I didn't, um, I didn't see you there." Dick greets with a smile, acting oddly nervous, which makes you raise a brow. "How long have you been, uh, standing there?" He asks, probably trying to see if you saw how he was about to break into your apartment. You both know you did, but you could play dumb for now.

"Um, I just got back so… not long, I guess? Why?" You tilt your head to the side, taking note of how Dick seemed to visibly relax.

Was he always so… tense?

"No reason! I was just wondering, but, uh," He glances to the side before looking back at you, and taking in your appearance. He took in every little detail he could, and wow… you really were different from what he was expecting, but in the best way possible.

Your voice was different than he remembered, and everything about you was just so… fitting, even if he's never seen it before. Even if he didn't remember having seen the style of clothes you wore on you before, or seeing the accessories you had on your person either. You really look like you've grown up now and have become an adult, with your own sense of style and fashion. Having all these little ways to show how you've grown, and become more comfortable with yourself.

Dick couldn't help but love it as much as it hurt him.

"It's good to see you." He couldn't help but blurt out, smiling softly. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

You only fiddled with your sleeves, averting your eyes for a moment as you purse your lips into a thin line. The way he looks at you made you feel uncomfortable to say the least, and his whole demeanor was nothing you have seen from him before. Not directed towards you, anyway, and you couldn’t help but struggle trying to remember the last time he smiled at you in person. All you could remember was seeing his back turned towards you as he walked away, a flash of a pathetic smile showing on his face briefly before he continued walking forward. Never looking back...

Maybe you've just grown too familiar seeing his smile in photographs and painted pictures, instead of in person.

Yet, how he looks you over now — and seems to take in every detail he manages to find — isn't exactly making this the most comfortable situation to be in. You feel exposed, and rub your arm before stopping yourself. You couldn't afford to show signs of weakness or vulnerability. Not with him. Not while he was in the suit.

Taking in a short breath, you gave a small nod. Managing to look back at Dick, and push down your nerves. The last thing you want was for him to notice how you truly feel, and point it out, or feel some kind of obligation to do something about it. The last thing you need was for him to stick around for longer than he has to.

"Yeah, um, anyway- that didn't really answer my question…?" You hesitantly point out, unsure if you should've mentioned anything at all, but feeling the need to do so. Even if you rather not be in this position, you prefer this over him breaking down your door.

"Did something happen? I- I don't know how much help I can give since… y'know- I'm not a crime-fighting vigilante in latex, but I can see what I can do?" You try to joke a little, mostly for yourself and to further ease your nerves as a few small chuckles escape you. Yet it doesn't help as much as you would've liked.

Did they always scare you this much?

"Oh, no! No, no, no- nothing happened! I just wanted to, um, come see you, is all!" Dick admits, and even if that may have been enough reasoning for him, it wasn't for you. It just doesn't make sense, and maybe that was the years of being put off to the side — or almost outright ignored — talking, but you couldn't imagine him just randomly popping out of nowhere, just because he wants to see you. There has to be a reason, even if you don't know what that reason would be.

"By going to my friend's apartment…? That doesn't really make a lot of sense.. um, Nightwing."

"Oh. Uh, you don't live here?" It was so weird seeing someone like Dick be so openly nervous. Was he always like this? You couldn't really tell, but if there was something going on he wasn't hiding it very well. It was almost like he was trying to not mess up or something, but you don't know why.

"No… but I do visit often? I mean, that is why I'm here and everything-" A few nervous chuckles escape you as you scratch the back of your neck, once again averting your gaze. "If you want, we could talk over a cup of coffee? I know a good place nearby, and even if I'm sure you can't exactly dine-in or anything, I could just take it to-go or something." You hesitantly offer, getting the feeling that Dick wouldn't leave easily, and still thinking that if there really is something going on — you could give him a chance to talk about it, at the very least.

"Sure! Yeah! But, uh. Is that really a good idea? It could be dangerous, and I think it's for the best if we stay inside or go to your place instead." Dick suggests, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

"My place?"

"Yeah, I mean I would offer mine but Bludhaven isn't exactly close, y'know?" He snickers. Yet it only made you pause. The smallest bits of a bad feeling beginning to form in your stomach.

"I- I don't think that's a good idea…"

"But it's better than hanging around outside or something, right? This is Gotham, after all." You didn't like how Dick says that. Saying it like you didn't already know. Like you were ignorant of how bad the city you live in was, despite having experienced it first hand on multiple occasions.

"I know, but there has to be some other place we can talk, then just my place."

"Well, there is the-"

"No." You immediately shot it down, already feeling like you knew what he was going to say, "Not there. Let's- let me just grab the coffee first, and we can figure it out from there, alright?" You didn't want to deal with more than you have to, and you weren't going to go back. Not now. Not ever, if you could help it.

"Oh, sure! I'll just tag along," Dick said simply, almost as if it was obvious, as he smiles, approaching you casually.

"I-" You pause before just sucking in a breath and giving a small nod, a weak smile displaying itself on your face, "-yeah, sure. That- that works." Even if you don't want Dick to follow you, it is better than having him just stand at your door, anyway. Though you still aren't exactly comfortable with the idea, you didn't have many options.

"Great! I'll meet you outside!" Dick grins before leaving through the window at the end of the hall.

Now by yourself for a while, you exhaled deeply, not even realizing how long you've been holding your breath.

You aren't sure if you could do this, but you don't feel like you have much of a choice anymore as you just try to steady and calm down your racing heart.

Making your way back to the elevator, you try to not think too much about what's going on as you step back inside, and push the correct button, waiting for it to descend.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest, and despite how you try to ignore it – you could feel that something was wrong. Though you just chalked it up to how you aren't used to Dick talking with you, or smiling towards you – or really anything at all when it came to him. You tried to, anyway, but you were slowly beginning to doubt it.

There was something in his smile, and the way that he spoke that just felt strange to you. Even if you haven't had many conversations or interactions with him, you could still catch how different he seemed tonight. Though you weren't entirely sure. After all, you didn't know much about his personality or usual antics, just as he didn't know much about you as a whole.

On any other occasion you'd try to let it go, but doing so didn't feel right this time. It feels stupid, and almost as if you'd put yourself in more danger by trying to, so for now you'd just keep it in mind. Even if nothing came of it, at least you were being cautious, right?

You aren't sure, not entirely anyway. Since it was always hard to tell what is and isn't a good decision with Dick and the others, but you don't have much time to dwell on it as the elevator doors open once again.

All you could do was just hope that this would end as quickly as it started. For both your and Dick's sake, but mostly for your own.

Nevertheless, you step out of the elevator and make your way out of the building. There, you saw Dick leaning against a lamppost, before looking at you. The smile he gave only made the pit in your stomach grow bigger, but you tried to return the gesture the best you could.

Neither smile reached either of your eyes.

"So, you know where it is?"

"Yeah- it isn't too far from here. Just a few blocks away, it's not that far of a walk."

"Great! You don't mind leading, then?"

"No, um. I can lead."

"Perfect, let's get going then." Dick says, his smile growing a little bigger as he makes his way over, and stops beside you, waiting for you to lead the way.

You just gave a nod, taking a nervous step forward as you both began to walk. You knew the directions by heart at this point, and so you just let your own feet guide you along the streets of Gotham. With Dick following right along, humming under his breath.

An awkward silence fell over both of you.

You try to not think about it too much, knowing that the detail would only further bother you, and make you feel more nervous than you already are. So you drew your attention elsewhere, and focused on the city itself instead.

Not many people were walking about, which immediately struck you as odd since Gotham was always so lively despite how dangerous it is. Even if more people were out during the day, there were still lots of people who were out at night for one reason or another. Granted, most of them are dangerous, everyone knows that, but some just simply went about their business. The city was dangerous, but that didn't stop people from going about their lives. Even if it did make it easier for thugs and the like to hide within the crowds.

Still, the change was noticeable. Gotham wasn't exactly known to be quiet, let alone this inactive. It felt strange, and when you glance over to Dick, you couldn't help but feel a little surprised that he didn't seem all that bothered by the change. If anything, you were almost getting the impression that he hadn't noticed it at all.

So, you just keep looking ahead, and focusing on other things. Deciding to not comment on anything if Dick wasn't.

Yet you still couldn’t shake it.

The absence of sirens in the air and occasional gunshots didn't sit right with you, and even the amount of people driving by wasn't as much as it'd usually be. The city didn't feel busy, let alone as alive as it would've been on any other night, and it's bothering you. It's like some sort of silent evacuation is going on, or a lock down of some kind that not everyone was informed of. There were more whispers than there were shouts, and a kind of awkward peace, instead of striking violence and chaos.

You couldn't believe it, was this Gotham's first real quiet night?

CRACK.

Perhaps you spoke too soon.

A sickening crack sounded from somewhere within the city, the noise so loud and sudden that it immediately caught your attention, as you looked in the direction of where you heard it come from. You could've sworn you heard a scream that followed right after, only for it to swiftly get cut off.

It was only then did you really take a look around, and notice how the people you passed by looked equally tense and nervous. An unsaid, but shared feeling of tension and anxiety hung in the air, and now that you noticed it — you couldn't ignore it.

What didn't help was when you saw someone in an alleyway cocking their gun, only for them to swiftly get roped into the darkness, causing them to drop their weapon in the process. A sickening pop sounded, and then deafening silence followed. The only evidence that anyone had ever stood in that particular spot, was the gun the thug had dropped.

Through the shadows of the alleyway, and faint light from the moon, you could almost make out a figure in the darkness. Yet just as they turned to look at you, your eyes darted away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Are… are you sure there isn't anything going on? It seems oddly… quiet, tonight." You point out hesitantly, small tingles dancing down your spine, and they were far from pleasant.

"Hm? Oh, well, I guess you could say something is happening, but the others are taking care of it." Dick reassures as he waves his hand dismissively. "Though that's why I think it'd be better if we talked inside. The last thing I want is for someone to eavesdrop on our conversation, and for you to get caught in the crossfire of everything." Yet you couldn't help but feel like it was a little too late for that.

Being associated with Dick, and the others — let alone being someone that they'd actually turn to for assistance or anything — already made someone prone to being caught in any crossfire that dealt with their vigilante work. Even if the person didn't get caught in between things by some miracle, it would be hard to ignore the newly painted target on their back. Being known for having a connection to Batman, and anyone he had taken under his wing one way or another, had its problems, and you already had to deal with your own fair share of trouble just for being known as another kid who got adopted by Bruce Wayne.

You wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly had to deal with more trouble just from this conversation alone, since word traveled around fast in Gotham, but you didn't want to think about that right now. You'd just deal with that when the time came, if it ever did.

Still, you didn't fully believe Dick. Your feelings of the situation becoming more messy, and unclear as you try to piece things together. You couldn't tell if what was going on was something to worry about, or stress over. Since Dick was acting so dismissively about it, and yet the effect it's having on Gotham was unmistakable. Is it big enough to cause the city to go quiet, but not dangerous enough to worry about? Or is it something else entirely?

You took a breath. Maybe it's best if you just think about it later. You already have enough on your plate as it is, and the biggest thing you have to worry about right now is Dick. All you have to do is find out what he wants, and handle things from there. That's it. That's all you have to do.

So, you nod hesitantly. Still not looking at Dick as you said, "Right. Okay. That… that makes sense, I guess," but your voice betrays you despite your best efforts as it wavered slightly. Still, you make sure to add, "but I still don't think it's the best to talk at my place."

Dick only gave a nod, saying, "Alright," and nothing else.

Your body refused to relax after that.

You still couldn’t shake the odd feeling you were getting from Dick, even if you couldn't exactly pinpoint what's wrong or where this feeling is coming from. The distant sounds of snaps, cracks, pops, and cut off shouts and screams in the distance didn't help much with that either. Especially when they weren't far, and sounded like they were only a few blocks away from you, with the distance slowly growing shorter each and every time a new sound echoed across Gotham. Especially when you realized that the snaps and cracks were the sounds of bones breaking, and the pops were joints getting dislocated. Which caused various memories to pop into your head that you tried to shove away.

Small beads of sweat began to roll down your neck. Your hands feel clammy, and you try to steady your breathing once you realize it was wavering again. You try to fix any outward reaction you notice you were displaying before Dick could catch on, fiddling with your sleeves as you try to reassure yourself.

You're going to be okay.

CRACK!

You're going to be fine.

SNAP!

You're going to make it through this.

POP!

You could tough it out.

"AAAHHH-!" CRUNCH.

This would all be over soon.

So, you try to ignore how the pit in your stomach continues to grow with each second that passes. How each sound causes you to tense, and sometimes jump the smallest bit, but you try to ignore that too.

You glance over to Dick once again, only to catch him immediately turning to face forward. The detail made you pause and furrow your brows, had he been looking at you?

You shove the thought to the side and face forward again as well. A weight of some kind begins to form in your chest, yet you still try to push on and keep walking.

Seconds turn into minutes, and it's only now that you fully realized how long this short walk felt. The sidewalks stretched on, and the streets never seemed to end. The traffic lights felt like distant glimpses of life and civilization that one would catch in fog, with the small amount of cars on the road not helping with that feeling. Dark clouds begin to form overhead, and cover the inky black sky. With the full moon looking down at you. Its sight pinned on you, staring in silence.

Maybe that's why you were so relieved when the diner finally came into view, and you found yourself holding back a sigh of relief. You had to stop yourself from running over, and rushing inside so that you didn't have to walk beside Dick anymore. Further reminding yourself of how awkward this whole experience has been for you thus far. Which didn't help with how you are feeling at all.

"How do you like your coffee?" You decide to ask, seeing as the diner was only a few steps away at this point.

"What?" Dick asks, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance he was in. With your question bringing him back to reality.

"Um, how do you like your coffee? Since, y'know. That's what we're here for?" You repeat, giving Dick a confused glance.

A look of realization flashed across Dick's face as a small 'ohh' left him. "Right, yeah. Uh," he stumbles at first before saying his preference, with you just nodding along.

"Okay, I'll just go inside and order so… you can just wait out here?" You said, unsure as you glance at the diner, only to look back at Dick.

"Yeah, I can do that." He agrees with a simple nod and small thumbs up. Making you nod as well as you took a breath.

"Right, okay. I'll just, um, head inside then." You exhale sharply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "It shouldn't take too long." You stop once you're in front of the door to the diner. Folding your hands into fists, squeezing your fingers and digging your nails into your palms, before releasing, letting your fingers relax, before repeating the process a few more times.

"Got it." Dick nods again, and you return the gesture as you open the door and step inside. Once again holding yourself back from letting out a sigh of relief, as you made your way over to the counter. A weight of some kind being lifted from your shoulders the moment the smell of food, and freshly brewed coffee hits you.

It's only when you reach the counter and see your friend did you finally sigh deeply, and heavily. You rest your arms against the counter and let your head hang low, a feeling of exhaust and fatigue slowly eating away at you. Not being in the immediate vicinity of Dick definitely made you feel exceptionally better, especially now that there’s a wall between you and him.

"Y'know, lots of people have been comin' in and sighing just like that, tonight." The waitress points out as she makes her way over to you. Her comment causing you to lift your head, and look at her. She gave you a little smile, amused by your antics, but you could see the little worry that hid behind her eyes.

"Really?" You ask, allowing yourself to relax a little, now that you were in the presence of a friend. You didn't see Jessica outside of the diner much, but that was never a problem since you've been a regular for a while now. You had met when you first began coming to the diner late at night for coffee since you couldn't sleep, coming around just when the place was about to close. It was only after a few more nights passed that you both began to talk, and really connect. You like to consider her one of your closest friends because of all she's done for you, and not just because she knows how to make your coffee just the way you like it.

"Yeah, it's kinda weird but there's seems to be somethin' going on tonight. So I guess it makes sense." Jessica says with a shrug, "Anyway, you want the usual, I'm assuming?"

You perk up at that, "Wait, you think something's going on too?" You couldn't help but ask, though made sure to also say, "Oh, and that'd be great. But I'll… um, take it to go this time, and I'll have another coffee for my…" you glance over your shoulder and look at Dick. He had his back turned to the window, and looked to be talking to someone with what you assumed to be his comm link.

You turn back to Jessica, a crooked smile on your face, "My acquaintance…?"

"I can't think of anyone who doesn't. Everyone can tell that something ain't right about tonight. Hell, even Jim looked bothered when he came in. I swore he was shakin' like a leaf, and looked like something was out to get him too." Jessica replies, writing down your order on her notepad mindlessly, already knowing it by heart.

"Jim? Like the commissioner?"

"Nope, I'm talkin' about the guy who came in from Metropolis."

"Oh." You said, before slowly nodding as you thought about it, "I guess that makes sense. Though, I didn't think that guy had a single nervous bone in his body, to be honest."

"Well, y'know what they say; Gotham changes people. It can even make people like him, who're barely present with the rest of us, get a little shaken up every now and again." Jessica hums, looking at what she has written down for a moment.

"Right… yeah."

Jessica sighs softly, looking at you with unsaid care and concern before speaking up again, "Anyway, does your…" she drags out the 'r' as she glances behind you, before looking back at you. Waving her pen in the air as she gestures towards the window, "'acquaintance' want anything else?"

"No, um. Just the coffee will do." You rub the back of your neck, making sure to mention how Dick said he likes his coffee. Jessica only gave a nod as she wrote it down.

"Alright, but I gotta ask. Is that guy bothering you?" Jessica asks as she starts to brew the coffee, shooting you a certain look, "I can get William to have a chat with 'im if he's causing you trouble. He won't like it, but he'll do it, y'know."

The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, and try to adjust the smile on your face to look less obvious. As much as you don't want to be in this situation, you at least want to hear Dick out. If there's even the smallest chance that he really does need something from you — you want to help. You don't want to be the reason why whatever is going on is prolonged any further, or if a solution they have is delayed.

Despite everything they've done to you, and the little they've given you throughout all of your life, you want to do this one last thing for them. That's all.

You could afford to do this one last time, you thought as much anyway.

"I'm fine, he- he isn't bothering me… I promise." You try to reassure your friend, mustering the most convincing smile you could as you watch her work. She clearly knew what she was doing, since it looked as if it came so naturally to her, and you wouldn't be surprised if it did, with all she's told you in the past.

"Well, alright. But if he does anything you can always shoot me a text or give me a call. I can't do much myself, but I know people."

You huff at her words, an easy smile making its way up your face as your shoulders relaxed, "I know. Thanks, Jess."

"Don't mention it. After all, I've gotta look out for the person who gives the best tips." She snickers, a smile of her own beginning to show itself. You can't help but laugh lightly as you just shake your head, and look away.

The soft tune of old melodies plays in the background, filling the space of the diner and washing away any awkwardness that may have been present otherwise. Some jazz begins to play, and you couldn’t help but tap your foot along with the rhythm, the voice of the singer taking all of your worries, and whisking them away.

The other customers are quiet for the most part, but seem at ease for the time being. The outside world almost seemed so far away despite being just past the windows, but there was some peace to be had with that. The street lights gave off a homey feeling with their soft orange hues spilling into the diner, the quiet from the outside only making this place feel more safe, in a strange way.

"So it's just for the money, huh? And here I thought you genuinely cared about me." You chuckle, fiddling with your fingers mindlessly.

"Of course I do. But I'd like to see you work in customer service and living off of tips," Jessica chuckles as well, "Maybe then you'd see how that's just me appreciating you more, hon'."

You just shake your head, "Right, whatever you say."

"I'm being serious, Y/n. Even the boss appreciates you, and your wonderful donations." Jessica snickers, beginning to pour the coffee into two cups.

"You make it sound like he runs a charity, and I'm a big donor."

"Of course he does! Except, y'know. It isn't your typical charity, and we gotta work our asses off to ‘give back to the people’. With your money making up about… hm, seventy-five percent of my paycheck?"

"Jess!"

"No, no. You're right, it's more like eighty-three. Maybe even eighty-five at a push." She laughs, giggling at the expression you make as you huff, before laughing a bit yourself.

You both continue to joke lightly, laughs and giggles being shared as Jessica makes your order, and you patiently wait. A light, soft sort of smile resting on your face, and you almost forget what had made you so tense in the first place. Which was one of the reasons you love this diner so much — it felt like a home away from home, even if it was only a few blocks away from your apartment. Jessica just added onto that comfortable vibe you got from this place, and your mind always felt so quiet when you're here.

It almost made everything feel like it'd be okay, and that as long as you remain inside, nothing bad could happen to you.

Unfortunately, it was only that. A feeling, and nothing more. Your current situation only made that detail all the more apparent.

"Welp, here you go. They're both hot and ready, so be careful, okay?" She smiles down at you before snickering, "Though you don't gotta tell the guy that if you don't want to."

You're confused for a moment, not entirely sure who Jessica was talking about until it suddenly hit you. Right, Dick.

You laugh along, but it wasn't as genuine as it was before, and died down much quicker. As if scared that he'd hear both of you from past the window now. The thought alone made you suddenly hyper-aware of his presence outside. "Right, yeah.."

Grabbing the two cups, you slide them towards yourself and stare down at them for a moment, finding yourself hesitating again. You don't know why you were taking so many pauses, but this whole thing just didn't feel right to you. Though you couldn't exactly pinpoint why, you knew the reason was different than why you were so awkward around Dick, and reluctant to talk to him.

"... Are you sure that guy isn't bothering you?" Jessica asks again, leaning against the counter as she places a hand over one of yours. You couldn't meet her eyes, knowing that if you did it'd just make things harder for yourself. So you look off to the side, unsure.

"Yeah!… He's just.. yeah." Was all you could really say. You don't want to say anything that would make Jessica worry more, but most importantly, you don't want to make it harder for yourself to leave. You got this far, would it really be alright if you leave now? If you took back the words you said, and just went back home? Probably not.

You hear Jessica sigh, causing your heart to feel heavier in your chest. "Look, I get it if you don't want me to get someone to handle him, but if you don't want to stick around, and don't want him to see- I can let you out the back." She offers, giving your hand a small squeeze. Trying to reassure you, and give you something to work with.

You perk up at her offer, looking back up at her in slight surprise, "Really?" You ask. The sense of hope and relief that washed over you didn't make you feel any better, and only furthered the conflict going on in your mind.

"Yeah. Especially if it'll get you away from that weirdo." She chuckles with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You think about it for a moment, just looking at Jessica as countless thoughts rush through your head. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why are you making this so hard for yourself? The choice is so simple, so easy, and yet you just couldn't take it, but why?

You look back at Dick, and make eye contact.

You both stand there, staring at each other for a while, and the music playing in the diner suddenly didn't feel so comforting anymore. Your shoulders lost their weightlessness, and gravity seemed eager to try and pull you down to the floor.

Dick is the first to look away, presumably resuming his conversation with whoever he's been talking to this entire time, but you didn't. You don't.

Turmoil and conflict is clear in your eyes. You could see it through your faint reflection in the glass of the window that separates you and Dick. Which, from that alone, you begin to feel worse.

Even if you did leave, would that change anything? Would you be able to actually leave Dick? Or would he catch on? They already know where you live, and even if you managed to fool Dick momentarily, you doubt that he believes your little lie now if he is talking to the others. Yet if you went back to him, what would happen? Where would you both end up going?

You look back down at the two coffees, and sigh. Either way, you’re faced with uncertainty. If you left now, there's no telling if you'd actually be able to get away. Yet if you went back to Dick, you couldn't even imagine what would happen next. It felt like you were stuck in a lose-lose situation; having to pick between two different types of poison, and deal with whatever consequences that came with the kind you chose.

Holding the cups a little tighter, you think it over for another moment before shaking your head. Taking in a breath, and letting yourself calm down a bit.

"I think I'll be okay, but thanks for the offer, Jess." You gave her a little, appreciative smile, "I'll just message or call you if anything happens, like you said." Jessica didn't seem entirely sure of your decision, but nods anyway.

"Well, if you're sure, then alright. But the moment shit goes south, you know who to call."

You nod, and give her a small ‘thank you’ as you paid and left. Taking the drinks with you as you did so, the warmth of the diner slowly leaving you, and now being replaced with the cold breeze of the night.

"Sorry that took so long, I would've told you otherwise if I had known." You apologize as you turn to Dick, flinching at his close proximity. Since, you didn't realize just how close he had been standing to the door until now.

"It's no big deal! Besides, it didn't take that long." Dick said, dismissing your apology as he kept up that smile of his. You only nod, handing him his coffee, which he gladly took.

"If you say so.." You glance off to the side again, remaining quiet for a moment before looking back at Dick, "You were talking to the others, I assume?" You decide to ask, not exactly sure if you should've said anything, but you didn't see the harm in doing so at the moment.

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I uh, I was." Dick confirms with a small, awkward nod.

"Is… everything okay?"

"Yep! Things are going well. Great, even!"

"Oh. Alright then."

Another beat of silence passed over both of you.

You clutch the cup in your hands, its heat pinching and nibbling at your skin through the sleeve. You took a glance inside the diner, and noticed that while Jessica is doing her job, she's still shooting looks and glances your way past the window. She furrows her brows as you both made eye contact, and you could tell what she was going to do just from that alone.

You shake your head, and play it off as if you were just pushing a thought away once you look back at Dick, shoulders rising and almost locking into place as you try to stop your smile from dropping. Holding it at just the right height, and making sure it didn't look too crooked.

"So, um. How about we walk and talk? Just so that we're doing something instead of just standing around- y'know?" You suggest, a wry chuckle escaping you as your eyes wander off again.

"Sure, yeah! We can do that," Dick nods along, and you give a curt nod in return.

"Great!" You begin to walk off, only to be stopped by Dick as he grabs your sleeve, causing you to flinch a little bit. Whipping your head around to look back at him, your heart stopping for a moment as something flashed in your eyes, before it quickly disappeared.

For a split second, you look at Dick as if he was about to kill you, or something similar to that. Like he was going to hurt you in some unimaginable way by just trying to grab your attention.

Though Dick just pushed that little detail to the side, he couldn't help but keep it in mind. He didn't want to think about what it could mean, but couldn't forget it either. Since no matter how quick it was, or how short it lasted, just seeing that expression on your face and directed towards him — it hurt worse than any injury he could possibly receive in any shape or form.

He didn't want to believe what seemed to be the undeniable truth.

So, instead, he tucked it away in the back of his mind. Still managing some kind of smile as he looks at you, hiding behind a face of confusion.

"Isn't your place back that way?" Dick asks, gesturing behind him with a tilt of his head. He notices how you swallowed — taking note of how nervous and on edge you seem to be. He's known since he first saw you, but he didn't think anything of it. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want it to mean anything.

So he ignores it. Pushing it away until he can't see it anymore, despite it being so clear and right in front of his face.

He prays to every god he knows, and hopes to every heaven he's aware of — blind and ignorant to the fact that they have long since shut him out. The light and grace they'd give, forever out of his reach.

His little wishes couldn't help him now. Not when they never helped you.

"I-" You couldn't help but sigh, shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, before speaking again, "I already said that I don't think that it's a good idea to talk there, Dick. And I don't think it's smart to have this conversation here either- so let's just walk as we try to figure this out. Please?" Your weak smile begins to strain as you take a step back, grabbing Dick's hand and tugging him toward you. You hope he'll listen, if only this one time.

Dick looks to the side, unsure as he weighs his options before looking back at you, and suddenly he's hit with all the convincing he needed.

You look at him pleadingly, almost silently begging for him to comply and just come along with you. The moon, albeit partially covered thanks to the dark clouds passing overhead, lit up your eyes in such a way that further emphasized the emotions you were feeling, but left unsaid. How the internal conflict and struggle you were experiencing, made the color in your irises shine that much brighter, and how such a little thing took Dick's breath away.

Suddenly, for a moment, he realizes how soft your hand was in his, despite the fabric of his glove in between them. Even if it is just for that split second, he can't help but… love it. Love you. So how can he say no? How could he say no when he's slowly beginning to see all of these little things about you in a different way? When his guilt was slowly shifting to something else? Something worth trying for?

How can he deny such a little request from his little sibling? Especially when you look at him like that? He can't. So he didn't. Unable to stop the soft but partially happy smile that grew on his face.

You found it uncanny and misplaced, but he found it fitting and refreshing in a way. A way he hadn't felt before — not in a while, anyway.

"Sure, alright. Let's get going then!" Dick replies after a second of silence had passed, holding onto your hand and walking beside you when you began to move again.

You didn't say anything this time, just nodding as you focused on walking away from the diner.

Yet, Dick couldn't help but look back at the establishment. Curious as to why you wanted to move on from it so quickly, and wanted to see if he could catch anything in particular that might've caused it. Not that Dick was complaining by any means, but he couldn't help his own curiosity.

It was then that Dick and the waitress from inside the diner made eye contact. Causing Dick to narrow his eyes, and the waitress doing the same back with a certain look in her eyes.

He didn't like it, and even if the impression he's getting was far off the mark, he didn't care enough to change it.

Yet, when you and Dick pass the diner, your phone suddenly vibrates.

Oblivious to how Dick's gaze lingered on the diner for a little while longer — or how he was even looking back at all — you fish your phone out of your pocket once you shake Dick’s hand off mindlessly, not thinking too much about the action as you check your notifications.

There, you saw that Jessica had left you a message.

['Be careful with that one. I'd watch your back if I were you, hon.']

You were confused to say the least, but before you could think to respond, Dick turned back to you and suddenly spoke. Smile ever present, eyes trained on you.

"So, where are we going?"

"Oh- um, I'm not entirely sure." You admit, pocketing your phone quickly without much thought. Hoping Dick didn't see what the text said, but you didn't count on it. Not much slipped past him or the others in any given situation, not unless it was something dealing with you. Though, with his attention on you now? You couldn't be too sure of what he would and wouldn't notice. Not anymore.

After all, just knowing that he could see you now, and is actually talking with you, along with the fact that you've been in his space for over a minute was… a new experience. You didn't think you'd get this far — you never have before, and so this was all new territory for you. All you knew, and could gather from how things were going thus far, was that slipping away wouldn't be as easy as it was before. Not with his eyes trained on you like they were now.

"Well, that's fine but we still shouldn't stay out for long. It isn't safe." Dick pointed out again, causing you to sigh and nod your head.

"I know, but I still-" you cut yourself off, and took a quick breath before continuing, "it doesn't feel right going back to my place. Besides, not many people are out tonight… and as weird as that is- at least not many people will be around to eavesdrop on our conversation, if we did talk out here." You said, shrugging your shoulders, and taking a slow but small sip of your coffee. It burned your tongue, but at least it gave you something else to think about.

"That doesn't exactly make Gotham any less dangerous, and besides- those who are walking around, and are still out and about, could be from a worse crowd. You should know that, Y/n." Again, you didn't appreciate how he spoke to you like that. Talking as if you were ignorant to that possibility, or just generally unaware that Gotham was a bad place filled with even worse people.

"I do, I'm just saying-" you try to defend yourself, looking at Dick before immediately looking away. You don't like how he looked at you, and how much taller it made him appear, "Gotham isn't just filled with criminals, and besides… most people look like they're rushing to get home anyway." You comment, noticing how a group of people — presumably friends or roommates, maybe even 'coworkers' to a certain degree — rushed inside what appeared to be an apartment building. Along with how a family quickly got inside of their house, ushering their kids inside before hurriedly closing the door behind them.

"It's like some kind of apocalypse is going on…" You mutter, narrowing your eyes at the sight, before just focusing your attention back on the sidewalk ahead of you. You didn't recall getting a memo of any kind, or an alert if something like that was really going on. Though, your best bet to figuring anything out was unfortunately through Dick, by the looks of things.

Dick rubs the back of his neck, a strange feeling of nervousness, and something close to embarrassment, radiating off of him as he chuckled. The strange detail caught your attention, causing you to look at him and notice that his smile had become uneven, before he fixed it when he noticed you were looking.

You couldn't help but raise a brow, silently questioning Dick with your eyes, a small hint of suspicion growing behind your gaze.

Dick just shrugs, fixing himself the very next moment, which only causes you to narrow your eyes. Were they actually causing some kind of apocalypse? Surely not… right?

"Then that's just all the more reason why we should head inside too." Dick said, giving your hand a soft squeeze. Forcing you to acknowledge that you were holding hands once again – but when did he grab it? You don’t remember feeling him hold it again until now… but that wasn’t important, not now anyway, "I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Y/n. I'm just worried."

You grew quiet at that, a mix of emotions beginning to swirl around in your chest before you just shove it to the side. You couldn't tell if he was joking or trying to be genuine….

Though, your heart and mind seemed to agree that he wasn't being serious, and maybe that's why you didn't like how he looked at you.

Taking your hand back once again, you shook your head dismissively, "You're a vigilante, right? One of Gotham's finest, and looking over Bludhaven at that- if anything happens I'm sure you can handle it." Huffing, you add, "Even then, I can handle myself."

Dick's eyes linger on you for a little longer. The hand that had been holding yours twitched, and he kept it there for a second before letting it drop to his side, his smile beginning to die down before he sighed. "Still, I think it'd be better if we tried to avoid something like that all together."

"I think it'd also be better if we could avoid something like that happening at my place."

"It won't, not with me around."

"So now you're confident that nothing will happen?" You laugh lightly, more air escaping you above all else, and disbelief clear in your eyes and tone. "You can't be sure. Someone could follow us there and find out where I live."

You snicker again, not fully believing that you were actually having to tell Dick all of this, "I mean, it might not matter much to you but-"

"It does matter to me. I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone else to come after you." He took another breath, and you bite your tongue. Reframing from mentioning how it was a little too late to be saying that now. "Look, I understand if you don't want to go back to where you're staying, but if that's the case then we can just got to the-"

"No." You speak up before he could even finish. Already knowing what he was going to say, and the mere thought of going back to that place made you feel uneasy. Causing you to clutch your cup with both of your hands, barely registering its heat.

"I didn't even get to say where…" Dick sighs again, just pushing the detail to the side for the moment, "Can you at least tell me why? I don't see why we shouldn't."

"It just-" You didn't want to say it outloud. Not out here. Not with him around, and listening to every word that fell out of your mouth. "I just don't think that's smart either. Again, someone could follow us back there and find out about… you know."

"Well, then someone else could just take you back-"

"Wouldn't that seem suspicious if someone saw, though?"

"Now you're worried about being seen?"

"Like you weren't before-"

"Y/n, please. We can't just stand around here and talk about stuff all night. Either way, we have to go somewhere." Dick tries to reason, adding on, "Look, if you don't want to go to your place or the 'other' place, how about we just-"

"No."

"I didn't even get to finish!"

"I know what you were about to say, and just-" You took a breath of your own, sweat rolling down the back of your neck as your hands began to shake a little bit. Your nerves were getting to you. You could feel it with how your chest became heavier, and how it was getting progressively harder to continue walking — as if your feet were slowly sinking into the cement below you.

"I don't think it'd be the best to go there either." You mutter, looking off to the side.

"Why? I can sort of understand the 'other' place-" he didn't, but in his attempt to get through to you, he said otherwise, "but why not there? Again, we can't just wander around all night and talk out in the open like this, Y/n. You should know better than that." Dick states, furrowing his brows as his gaze remains pinned on you, never once looking away.

You wish he would. By the Gods did you wish he would look away just once. Yet such a blessing had yet to be given, if it would ever come.

With every second that passed, your doubt only grew.

"I just don't see why we can't go to any other places? Somewhere that isn't personal, or technically considered to be personal since it could reveal your identity and such- and I don't think I have to give reasons why someone knowing where I live, or used to live, would be bad too- but… yeah. Just-" You gather your thoughts, looking down at your cup of coffee for a brief moment, "Just somewhere that isn't necessarily connected to either of us, or could reveal potentially personal or sensitive information on one or both of us? Like the park, or some random rooftop…? You guys still have talks up there, right?" You manage to slide in a little joke, but the laugh you gave is more awkward and nervous than anything, so you just clear your throat and continue.

"Or- or just an abandoned building or something? If you still really want us to be inside? Since Gotham has some of those… maybe too many of them- but that's besides the point." You try to suggest, hesitant to even say anything but managing somehow regardless.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Dick – so you missed how his brows creased, and his smile was just barely holding up. His hand twitches again, but he tries to stay mindful of the coffee he's still holding.

"Are you serious?" His tone made you press your lips into a thin line. Your nails begin to dig into the sleeve of your cup. "I get that you're paranoid, but are you serious right now? Y/n, c'mon." An odd warmth began to bloom in your chest at Dick's words. It was far from pleasant, and lit like a match, with the flame itself bursting to life. It started much larger than you were used to, and controlling it was more difficult than you expected.

"I'm just saying…"

"Saying… what? That we either stay out in the open where anything can happen, or a clearly dangerous place where we're most likely going to get jumped? 'Cause if that's what you're saying, then I don't even know what to say, Y/n." Dick really can't believe you right now. Just how long have you been living in Gotham, exactly? Who were you even living with? He couldn't understand what you were thinking suggesting such a thing.

He had a feeling you may have been unaware of the true dangers of Gotham, since he and the others had kept you away from such things – from what he could tell. Not to mention that you didn't have any intention of becoming a vigilante yourself, from what he remembered, but for you to turn out like this? He had no idea you were so oblivious, and if he had before, he never would've let you out of that apartment building. He never should've to begin with, clearly.

"No! Of course that's not what I'm saying!" You couldn't help but yelp in surprise, finally looking at Dick as you held your coffee closer to your chest. You felt offended that he honestly thought you'd think something so stupid, but you didn't know what was worse. How he didn't seem convinced, or how he looked as if he believed himself more than you.

"Then…?" Dick drags on, gesturing for you to give an explanation. Almost daring you to say something that proved him wrong, or went against his point.

You huff harshly, the warmth in your chest beginning to turn hot as you went on to say, "I'm just saying why can't we go anywhere else, that isn't technically connected to you or me in some way?"

"... And your solution to that is to go to a public area, stay out in the open but on the rooftops, or go to one of the abandoned places around Gotham where something bad will definitely happen?" Dick rose a brow, with you restraining yourself from rolling your eyes. Instead, you manage a sigh – smile long gone from your face.

"Those were just examples, Nightwing." You hold back a scoff, clutching your cup a little tighter, "We don't actually have to go to any of those places, or do those things. I was just trying to suggest ideas, not say; 'Hey, we should go to that one place by the bay that's been abandoned for around five years and have our talk there. Since surely nothing will happen, and a gang totally doesn't hang around that area.' Or something like that."

"That's oddly specific," Dick gave you a questionable look before shaking his head, "but still. Those places and areas aren't safe. At least the places I suggested are, and if something happens, then there's security measures in place for that."

"How do you know if my place is secure or not?"

"Are you trying to say that it isn't?"

"No- but it's not like I have a super complicated system or hypersensitive security like- y'know. The other places. So what would make my place so safe?"

Dick sighs, "Fine. Alright, maybe your place isn't our safest bet right now. Even if I feel like I can definitely handle protecting a single apartment." You didn't even bother to say anything, just rolling your eyes and shaking your head instead.

"I don't want anything to happen to my place, Nightwing."

"You really don't think I can't defend one room?"

"I don't live alone, D- Nightwing. I don't just have myself or my things to worry about." You couldn't help but say, scoffing under your breath. However, Dick could only blink, a little confused.

"You… have a roommate?"

"Yeah? Who do you think I was referring to when I said I was visiting a friend?"

"Oh! I thought that was a complete lie. I guess that makes sense, but why would you need a roommate anyway? Does your job not make enough money or-"

"Does that really matter right now?" You gave Dick a pointed look, hoping that he would take the hint and drop the subject, "We're trying to find out what the fuck to do, not delve into my personal life."

"Alright, fine- no need to get all worked up." Dick put his free hand up to show that he wasn't trying to start anything, and was trying to keep this peaceful and civil, "But why don't we just go to one of the other two areas? They're secure, and I'm sure your friend won't get hurt if something ends up happening while we're there."

You open your mouth to say something, only to shut it and look away. You clutch your cup a little tighter.

How could you tell Dick that you just don't want to be in the manor again, and that you didn't want to go back — without actually having to tell him? How do you tell Dick that you don't feel comfortable being in a space where you knew the rest of them would be, and that you'd rather have to just deal with him than anyone else? That you had a bad feeling about going to any of those places with him, and you don't trust him or the others at all?

You'd rather avoid going to the manor if you could help it, and you had more than enough reasons for feeling that way. Though, would Dick understand? Would he accept your reasons, and see why you wanted to go somewhere else? Maybe not, and even if he did understand, there was no guarantee that he would value your personal comfort over your 'safety'. There was no guarantee that he still wouldn't try and get you to agree with him.

You also wanted to avoid going to the clock tower. Seeing as just dealing with Dick was… difficult, to say the least, and if you could barely handle one — you couldn't imagine what it'd be like to handle another. Since there was bound to at least be someone else at the tower, just waiting for you to arrive.

The thought alone made you feel uneasy.

-------------------

[Chapter 3, part 2]

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere dick grayson #not series

3K notes · View notes

fragilefates · 2 months ago

Text

"Y...You can't be serious, right? Honestly, without books, your precious little phone wouldn't even exist. Without the knowledge they impart, a lot of things this modern world has right now wouldn't exist..."

@fragilefates

"Books?! Bah! I'll take looking at a screen than looking at a boring piece of paper."

#1: How dare I forget to follow this multi on the main blog over here--!!#2: Micah: //gASPING IN SMOL BOOK LOVER!!#multis-sermonibus #;;mercury: micah

7 notes · View notes

myslutwritings · 10 months ago

Note

Hey! I've been reading your blog and I'm really interested in your writing. I would like to ask if you could do the upper moons with a reader with a background like Mitsuri's? As if after rejection the reader became super ashamed of their appearance and their body. Take as much time as you need to write this, I just wanted to send my idea before I forget it <3

-🎀

hey, love! of course i’ll do your request. goodness, this request was in my inbox for a few months so my apologies for responding so late!! (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥)

➤ Uppermoons with a partner who has Mitsuri’s backstory

[ not proof read btw ]

➤ summary: reader is insecure

➤ characters included: muzan, kokushibo, douma & akaza!

➤ WARNING: semi-nsfw + violence.

MUZAN KIBUTSUJI

first off.. how dare you-

yeah, okay, he’s GONNA take major offense to say at the very least..

likeeee hellooooo???

i mean, you’re MUZAN’S partner. you somehow pulled the king of demons? like look at you!! (unspoken rizz🤫..)

we all know this man has a crazed obsession with being the perfect being so obviously he is going to view his significant other as the embodiment of perfection itself.

Muzan chose you over anyone else. He views the rest of the human population as insignificant atoms. Because of his determination for perfection he’s going to pick/fall in love with a person who he deems perfect.

let’s be honest, due to him taking offense to finding out you’re insecure over some different face/hair/body features you have that he doesn’t mind/finds them beautiful he’s going to be not very happy!

when i say, “not very happy” that’s just me sugar coating his flaring anger.

However, he’ll try to reassure you in his own way that you’re beautiful the way you are and that you’re perfect in the most passive aggressive way possible.

Listen, he’s not the best at intimacy but he tries for you.

AND OH BOY!! when he finds out if anyone made you feel insecure he would order nakime to locate them so he could kill them. 🤭

As for your exes in the past.. they’re already taken care of! he murdered them awhile ago and didn’t even bother eating them because he was that repulsed by their existence.

Bro didn’t even view them as worth eating.

Btw he didn’t even tell you that he murdered your exes along with the men/women who made you feel insecure about your face/body.. he just causally told you as if it would make you feel better.

“Muzan, what happened to my exes? i saw a missing poster while i was running errands today..”

“There is no need to worry about them anymore, my dear.”

KOKUSHIBO

He’s very saddened over the fact you’re insanely insecure and it devastates him knowing how many people hurt you.

Why is he only hearing this now? he wished you told him sooner.

Like the demon king, he isn’t the most skilled when it comes to intimacy. I mean, he had a wife in the past but he deadass left her and went to go get the milk. 💀

He would never leave you though!

so he’s not going to be the ‘lovey dovey’ reassuring type of boyfriend who coddles you the way you want him to.

He may or may not have forgotten how relationships worked and he’s lowkey awkward!

He’ll reassure you in his own way and of course his demon instincts are provoking him to kill those maggots in the past who dared made you cry.

If you don’t want him to kill your exes he won’t but if you do then congratulations! you have a whole bunch of dead exes!

He’s jealous because he wanted to be with you before any of those people. He figured that if he found you first and asked you out before any of those horrible human beings you wouldn’t be so insecure. :(

Once you communicate more with Koku he’ll begin to understand and attempt to be more intimate and reassuring! He just isn’t used to it.

Kokushibo is honestly excellent at communicating and he’s understanding in his own way.

He won’t understand why you’re so insecure though? You point out your features/habits you’re insecure about that you view as ‘flaws’

He does not view them as flaws in the slightest! That’s just who you are and like muzan he’ll be offended at first you have so much hatred for yourself. 😞

But don’t worry! he won’t get mad like how Muzan did.

If anything you two will just talk it out. He may never will understand why you’re so insecure but he’ll compliment you and reassure you every time he sees you! He’ll do his very best to check up on you whenever he’s able to.

DOUMA

Douma is honestly going to think it’s stupid.

no, you are NOT stupid. he thinks the reason you’re insecure is silly! because why would you be hurt over what someone so insignificant thinks of you?

Douma also thinks it’s stupid because he views you as the most beautiful flower to ever walk this planet!

Yes, douma will find it silly. He may not fully comprehend why it hurts you so much but he’ll reassure you regardless because he loves you!

Douma is canonically great at advice. But usually with his followers he puts on a façade.

But with you it’s very different. Yes, he’ll give you advice but because he loves you and you know him and know what he really is he’ll give you the advice and not sugarcoat it for you.

Downright admits it’s dumb how you feel that way.

Immediately feels bad afterwards though when you break down into tears-

He’s used to seeing miserable people cry. He doesn’t care about their tears.

but when it’s you crying he isn’t a fan, trust me.

This is the part where he’ll reassure you and lend you advice. Instead of being rude, he’ll be genuine with you!

Douma just doesn’t understand. When you point out why you’re insecure he brushes it off because he finds your ‘flaws’ so adorable!

It’s one of the things he loves most about you. Your so-called ‘flaws’ are unique to him.

He gets offended like Muzan because why would you hate those adorable features about yourself?!? 😡😡

Let’s be fr.. Douma will never understand because he doesn’t find you ugly and has zero issues with your habits that you claim to hate about yourself.

But if you need comfort, he’ll of course comfort you and reassure you all you want! After all, he’s known to have a voice that soothes people instantly so he’s incredibly good at helping you. that’s what he does, right?

Anyway, Douma will go out of his way to make you feel less insecure even though he finds it utterly stupid that you are. The little shit still loves you unconditionally and will be genuine with you. He isn’t fake with you like how he is with his followers who suffer from insecurities.

Btw he ate the people who made you feel shitty about your appearance.

AKAZA

he is appalled..

LIKE WHAT???

YOU? INSECURE?

YOU OF ALL MORTALS?!?

High-key freaking out at first because now he feels like he did something wrong

I headcanon him as an overthinker when it comes to those he loves.

You elaborate your darkest feelings to him and he listens like the good boyfriend he is!

This sweet baby is the nicest and most understanding about it though!

Unlike Douma he won’t think it’s stupid. Your feelings are valid!

Akaza detests how insecure you are though. He’ll do anything in his power so you don’t feel that way anymore though!

You reassure him that he’s doing his job right as a demonic boyfriend before revealing that someone else made you feel this way.

Okay, okay.. so it’s not him but some other asshole.

He’ll be really bummed out if he can’t kill them:(

Assumes that’ll make you feel better if he gets rid of that garbage walking the earth.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to kill them for you? I hate how they made you feel insecure about yourself..”

Like, no, akaza it’s fine!!

But if you’re a person who seeks out revenge and WANTS the people who rejected you/made you feel bad about your looks dead this man has zero issue making your desires come true. 💅

After you confess to him about your past rejections and bullying in the past over noticeable features you have he’ll worship you even more that day. He’s the type to bring you flowers and remind you that you’re gorgeous/handsome whenever he gets the chance.

This behavior also comes out in the bedroom but that’s a different story for another day. 😩

468 notes · View notes

freddleafton12345-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Movie Shadow Hc's! Fluff and nsfw! Reader can be mobian or human!

- I think Shadow is super gentle and understanding of you

- will never cross boundaries until you give consent

- he helps you if you struggle with work if you're in college! He's pretty smart!

- he might let you try putting on his rocket shoes, but he demands a rope is around your torso so he can hold onto you XD (you flew over the house once and he was like "k that's enough")

- dates are pretty romantic or classy, anything you want, he delivers. He's a huge fan of movie theater dates or dinner dates

- Shadow gives gifts or does stuff for you, it's his love language

- he's usually the little spoon when you're cuddling in bed together

- he will protect you, always. He even holds you if something scares you 😭

- Shadow, at 1st, is skeptical of any ear scritches or head pets. He isn't a pet after all! But eventually he comes to enjoy them a lot, but ONLY you get such a right

- sometimes when he's thinking about his past, and he zones out, you play the song he and Maria used to dance to. It always makes him smile and dance around with you

- yes, you can ride his motorcycle, but you can NEVER let go of his waist. He'd never forgive himself if you fell off and got hurt!

- eventually, he decides to teach you how to ride his motorcycle. It's a long and slow process, but eventually you get your own that's ALMOST as cool as his, and you guys are notorious for speeding through traffic XD

- at some point, you decided to get red highlights in your hair and dress in dark clothes to match him. He was sort of flustered by your new look (in a good way, though Sonic called him out and they had a small rough house ToT)

Nsfw

- top, on rare occasions you can ride him

- he will use his super form if you really want him to go fast, but you have to know it'll hurt afterwards (it's so worth it imo tho)

- he bites your neck, shoulders, anywhere he can get to

- he's got a lot of stamina, he could do like 13 rounds before he's done

- he isn't super vocal, he just grunts/groans, or asks "is this okay?" "Does this feel good?"

- he doesn't have many kinks but he's willing to degrade or praise you if you want!

- the 1st time you guys had sex he was sort of nervous, although he didn't show it. When he's working his mouth against you he's thinking ("why did she/he/they get quiet? Did I forget where the clit/tip is?") But then you cum and he's like ("phew, nevermind.")

- he isn't aware of many kinks humans have. He's open to learning if it'll please you, but anything involving chains or ropes is a BIG no for him

- he would totally fuck you infront of people so they know you belong to him. You're his mate, and his alone

- he's into French kissing, pinning you to flat surfaces, and rubbing your hips as you guys make out. If you're a human, then you're definitely taller than him. So he's gonna hover via rocket shoes to pin you XD (don't you dare call him out or you're not gonna walk the rest of your life-)

@shadow-fans-blog sorry this is short I'm clearing out many drafts. I'll probably update this occasionally though))

#sonic 3 shadow the hedgehog #sonic 3 movie #sonic 3 #shadow the hedgehog x reader

222 notes · View notes

hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 1 year ago

Text

WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL

Propaganda...

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

64.media.tumblr.com

GIF by molinaesque

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

youtube

Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

LOOK

GIF by my-little-random-world

HOW

GIF by my-little-random-world

GIF by mametupa

YEARNS

GIF by my-little-random-world

GIF by molinaesque

The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.

Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.

I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.

Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.

I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH

If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.

Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!

Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?

Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?

A warm smile? Or something more broody?

Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?

Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!

II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.

Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵

And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.

And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥

This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.

Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

GIF by sunsetboulevards

Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

GIF by jaeausten

The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

GIF by didanagy

Fencing? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

GIF by didana

Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

youtube

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

youtube

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

youtube

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

youtube

GIF by my-little-random-world

Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #the final #take two (SORRY)#captain wentworth #mr darcy #persuasion 1995 #pride and prejudice 1995 #ciaran hinds #colin firth #persuasion #pride and prejudice #jane austen #frederick wentworth #fitzwilliam darcy #Youtube

894 notes · View notes

bunicate · 1 year ago

Text

rambling abt diluc’s relationship with his sister from the maid, adelinde’s pov ♡ im pretti sure dis was an ask I received on my old blog too ! !

adelinde didn’t have much expected of her besides her daily cleanings and the occasional rotation of taking out the trash, but recently she’s been burdened with the task of looking after you.

you’re a troublesome girl to tend to.

she would never say it out loud or let her feelings show, but master diluc had you spoiled rotten. you were the only one allowed to disturb him in his study and demand the most menial things for the sake of his attention.

you're often half-naked and oversleeping when you weren't bothering him.

she frequently dresses you, and brushes your hair so you could look presentable in front of your brother, and you would insist on only the shortest dresses and skirts. or flat out refuse to have your blouse buttoned all the way. she wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn, but your bosom was nearly visible at all times.

she doesn’t acknowledge her master's subtle glances towards the swell of your chest, or his hand that rests too closely to your bottom.

you both were closer than most siblings. that she knows, the other maids all witnessed it but wouldn’t speak of it lest their master would catch them.

it was an enjoyable job, and it would be a shame to lose it because diluc caught their loose lips flapping away.

adelinde was quick to regard the interactions as siblings who simply cherished each other.

although you’re a handful, you’re also sweet and thoughtful, and she could see why diluc treated you as such. she often helps you clean up your messes from making strawberry tarts, and other little gifts that you give diluc. by the end of the day, you’d be exhausted, and each time she’d lay a blanket over your slumbering body when you waited up late for diluc.

she’d watch you until she’s interrupted by her master's arrival.

“thank you, adelinde. you may go for the night. i’ll take care of her from here,” he’d say.

like routine, she’d bow.

“well then. goodnight master diluc.”

she would watch him slowly collect your body within his grasp, gentle enough not to disturb you from slumber.

he’d pull back the hair that obstructs your face and adelinde could never forget the look of utter tenderness that seeped into his visage.

a certain kind of love unbinds the furrow of his brow and eases the tension in his broad shoulders. his figure would then disappear into your room, and that would be the last she saw of you both for the night.

the next day when adelinde knocks on your door to come in, and you’re already awake.

your pajamas are revealing as always. a skimpy underwear and a strapless cotton top. your hair covers it, but she makes out the bruise on your neck, and she ignores it.

she tries not to appear uncomfortable when you walk downstairs in the same attire and diluc don't even seem phased. he just puts you on the kitchen counter, feeding you blueberries for breakfast.

touches and the palatable air isn’t enough to jump to conclusions, but she supposes she no longer had a choice anymore when she mistakenly walks into the living room and witnesses such a sweltering kiss.

her master trails his hands on the cheeks of your butt, groping the flesh while he buried his tongue in your mouth.

adelinde is stunned at the sight. her master was kissing his little sister.

a sensation she’s unfamiliar with runs down her body. his tongue is so much larger than yours, wrapping around your smaller one, swallowing your breathy cries. his hands cup your face, and it’s then she realizes how large those gloved fingers really are.

carefully, she watches them trail downwards, slipping into his pants to pull out his thickening and leaky member.

adelinde , felt fear and a tinge of arousal.

he was going to insert his cock between your folds. your pretty silken folds, that sweltered with lust. his dick was hard and angry, and your body looked too perfect — too delicate to be touched.

adelinde licked her lips as diluc entered inside of you. your back arches and your tits jiggle from the comedown of his hips. he fucks into you at a rapid pace, and the sound of wetness on his cock destabilizes the maid's ability to react appropriately.

the moistness is audible between the slaps of skin and the loud cries.

the sheets darken with sweat and cum. your skin is bitten and then kissed, and your moans reverberate in the same room.

the air is hot and sticky and adelinde feels a knot in her belly. she quickly darts out into the corridor and begins to dread the following day. anxiety pricks at her skin at the fear of facing you both once more.

she knows that she’ll have to clean you up in the morning and face the dark truth about her master and his younger sister.

#𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 ⪩⪨ .𖥔 ݁ ˖#lulu ❤︎#:] adelinde mite like reader jus a teeeenzy bit #jus a tiny bit #diluc x reader smut #diluc x reader #genshin smut #tw:incest

1K notes · View notes

luvleyshif4 · 7 months ago

Text

ECHO HEARTS

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: In the middle of Tannyhill’s chaos, Rafe Cameron pulls you away with a confession that stirs up everything you’ve been trying to forget. Your past with him is messy, late night talks, broken promises, and feelings you could never quite shake. But this time, he’s asking for something more, something that could change both your lives forever.

Warnings: Minor mention of toxic relationship, Unresolved past trauma, A tad bit of angst with a happy ending, Hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1.9k words

Authors note: Hey guys! This is my first time posting on my blog and I’m excited (and a bit nervous) to share it with you. It’s been on my mind for a while, and I’m glad it’s finally out. Hope you enjoy it!!

Tannyhill was a place you’d been to only a handful of times, always under the guise of a party or some other excuse to keep the Pogues and Kooks mingling, if only temporarily. But tonight was different. You hadn’t come for the music, the drinks, or even the atmosphere. You were here for one reason only—Rafe Cameron.

You hated that he had this hold on you. It wasn’t just the way he carried himself, all sharp edges and stormy glances, or the way he commanded a room without even trying. It was the way he saw through you, past the walls you’d spent years building. It was that look in his eyes, always like he could unravel every secret you’d locked away, piece by piece.

Your history with Rafe wasn’t something you talked about. It was messy, undefined, the kind of thing you couldn’t neatly explain to anyone, not even yourself. You weren’t together, not in the traditional sense, but there was something between you. Something that kept pulling you back no matter how much you told yourself to stay away.

The first time you really spoke to Rafe was during one of those aimless summer nights when you’d ended up on the beach long after everyone else had left. You’d been walking barefoot along the shore, letting the waves lap at your ankles, when you saw him sitting by a dying bonfire. His usual bravado was nowhere to be found. He looked… lost.

You’d hesitated for a moment, unsure whether you should approach. Rafe was always surrounded by people, his charisma impossible to ignore. But tonight, he was alone. And you couldn’t ignore the quiet sorrow that seemed to weigh him down.

“You okay?” you’d asked, cautiously approaching.

He’d glanced up at you, his eyes glassy but sharp, as if weighing your words. “Do I look okay?”

Normally, you would’ve walked away. But something about the way he said it, like he was daring you to care, made you sit down beside him instead. The night had felt heavy, and his presence, oddly, made it feel less suffocating.

You both sat there for a while in silence, just listening to the sound of the waves crashing. Finally, Rafe spoke again, his voice quieter now. “Sometimes, I think it’s easier to just disappear, you know? Just… walk away from everything and everyone.”

It was strange, hearing him admit something like that. Rafe Cameron, the Kook prince, who never showed weakness, suddenly seemed like a person who couldn’t carry the weight of his own life anymore.

“You don’t mean that,” you’d replied gently.

“I don’t know,” he’d said, his fingers flicking idly through the sand. “I guess I just get tired of pretending. Tired of trying to live up to my dad’s impossible standards, always having to be someone I’m not. Always having to be perfect.”

You’d never expected him to share something so raw, so unguarded. By the time the sun rose, you realized you weren’t just looking at Rafe Cameron, the Kook prince with a bad reputation. You were looking at someone who was just as broken as you were. And, maybe, for the first time, you saw him as something more than a puzzle you couldn’t quite solve.

From then on, things between you were… complicated.

The party at Tannyhill was a predictable mess of bodies and noise, but you hadn’t come here to celebrate. You’d come because Rafe had sent you a cryptic text earlier that day

“Need to see you. Tonight. Don’t make me beg.”

You should’ve ignored it. You’d told yourself you were done with him the last time he’d shown up at your door, drunk and spiraling, apologizing in the only way he knew how, with promises he couldn’t keep. But deep down, you knew you weren’t done. Not yet.

You scanned the crowd, eyes moving over the familiar faces of both Pogues and Kooks, but you didn’t see him. Your heart started to race a little faster. Where was he?

That was when you felt his gaze on you. You looked up and found him standing just at the edge of the crowd, a drink in hand, his gaze fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He caught your eye before you could decide whether or not to approach, and his lips curved into that trademark smirk of his. It was a smirk that always seemed to make your heart race, despite every single warning you’d told yourself.

“Took you long enough,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the sudden flutter of nerves in your chest. “You didn’t say it was urgent.”

He stepped closer, the crowd parting like water around him. “Maybe it is. Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, a reaction you hated. “What do you want, Rafe?”

The smirk faded, and for a moment, something softer took its place. “Come with me,” he said, his voice now a low command.

Before you could protest, he reached out, his hand wrapping around yours. His touch was firm but desperate, pulling you through the crowd without a word. You had no choice but to follow him, your heart pounding in your chest, the world around you growing distant.

You both moved through the house, the noise and music still ringing in your ears, but it didn’t matter. His grip on your hand was steady, unyielding. It was like he was afraid if he let go, you might slip away.

Finally, you reached the back door, stepping out into the cool night air. The path leading away from the house was dark, only the faintest trace of moonlight guiding you toward the boathouse. Your breath quickened, unsure what this was about but knowing it was a decision you couldn’t take back.

“What’s going on?” you asked once you were inside, the door shutting behind you. The boathouse was dim, lit only by the glow of the water outside, its quiet isolation adding to the tension in the air.

Rafe was pacing the small space, his movements quick and agitated. He looked like he was trying to find the words, but he couldn’t quite get there. Finally, he stopped, his back to you for a moment, before turning around with that seriousness in his eyes that you rarely saw.

“I’m leaving,” he said abruptly, his voice sharp, but it didn’t match the vulnerability in his eyes.

You blinked, taken aback by the suddenness of his words. “What do you mean, leaving?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” he replied, his voice tight, each word measured. “I can’t do this anymore. The parties, the expectations, my dad… all of it. I’m done.”

Your chest tightened, a knot forming in your stomach. You wanted to ask him why now, why after everything, but you already knew the answer. He’d been drowning for so long, and you were just one of the lifelines he hadn’t quite let go of.

“And where are you planning to go?” you asked quietly, bracing yourself.

He shrugged, though the gesture seemed more defeated than anything. “Anywhere but here.”

You should’ve been angry. You should’ve told him that he was being selfish, that he couldn’t just throw everything away like it meant nothing. But instead, you understood. You understood better than you cared to admit.

“I’m guessing you didn’t just drag me out here to say goodbye,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe turned toward you then, his jaw clenched tightly. “No, I didn’t want to leave without seeing you. Without… asking you to come with me.”

The weight of his words hit you like a freight train. Your heart seemed to skip a beat, and you could feel the air shift between you, the gravity of his request hanging thick in the space.

“Rafe…” your voice faltered, unsure how to process what he was asking.

“I know it’s crazy,” he rushed to say, stepping closer, the desperation evident in his eyes. “I know you probably think I’m out of my mind, but I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.”

You stood there, frozen, torn between the part of you that wanted to say yes and the part that feared it.

“What happens when things get hard?” you asked, your voice shaking with the weight of your doubt. “What happens when you get scared, or angry, or when you start pushing me away again? Because you will, Rafe. I know you will….”

His eyes softened, his features pulling tight with frustration. His eyes start to sting with tears that dared to brim. He ran a hand through his hair again, like he was trying to find some answer he didn’t have. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be better, for you. Because you’re the only person who makes me want to try.”

Those words, sincere and raw, hit you harder than you expected. It was everything you wanted to hear, but also everything you were afraid to trust.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, the words barely above a whisper. Your heart ached as the reality of it all set in.

Rafe closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His touch was soft, almost tentative. “Yes, you can,” he said, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that almost stole your breath. “You can, if you let me show you.”

You stood there for a moment, lost in his gaze, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread. It felt like everything was pushing you toward him, his touch, his words, the unspoken promise in his eyes. But the fear, the doubt, and the uncertainty of it all still lingered. Could you trust him? Could you risk it all again?

Rafe seemed to sense your hesitation. He stepped back, his hands slowly falling to his sides, giving you space, but his eyes never left you. “I get it,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I’m not asking you to make any decisions right now. But… if you want to take that step with me, I’ll be here. No more games. No more lies.”

The sincerity in his voice was so raw, it almost broke something inside of you. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the weight of the past, the mistakes, the lies, it all threatened to crush you under its burden.

“I don’t know if I can just… forget everything,” you said, your voice trembling, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “You hurt me, Rafe. So many times.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if the words had physically struck him. When he opened them again, there was a sadness in his gaze that matched your own. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it if you’ll let me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Every part of you was telling you to walk away, to protect yourself, but something inside of you, something you couldn’t ignore, wanted to give him a chance.

“I’m not perfect,” Rafe continued, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not asking you to fix me. I just want to be with you. To give this a real shot. Together.”

Your thoughts were a whirlwind, but you couldn’t shake the pull you felt toward him. It had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface, and maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking that leap.

“Rafe…” you whispered, your voice faltering as you took a step closer to him. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I get hurt again?”

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your face once more, this time with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “If it doesn’t work, then I’ll let you go. But I swear, I won’t hurt you again. Not if I can help it.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes. “But if you screw this up, Rafe—”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice firm. “Not this time.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and tender. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise.

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d keep it.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe Cameron imagines #rafe cameron angst #Rafe Cameron fluff #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction

266 notes · View notes

cigarettesuga · 8 days ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ CHARITABLE CAUSES Ꮺ myg

request: Hi!! Im just discovered your blog and your writing is genuinely moving it's so beautiful 🥹 with that being said I would love to request a yoongi x reader fic maybe idol yoongi with actress reader. Maybe they're at a charity event or something and they meet and it's basically love I dunno. Potentially Smutty 👀👀👀

Anyway continue your absolutely beautiful writing pookie <3

pairing: idol!yoongi x actress!fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, slow burn, social event tension, emotional isolation, suggestive/flirty atmosphere

warnings: mature themes, strong sexual tension, making out in semi-public setting, suggestive language, swearing, mutual thirst with a side of pining, power plays in eye contact form

word count: 5.6 k

summary: yoongi doesn’t want to be at the charity gala — not when he is the only one doing the promotions, not when all he’s expected to do is smile and survive conversations that mean nothing. but then she walks in: the actress with sharp eyes, a reputation for blunt honesty, and a look that makes him forget how to breathe. what starts as a few shared glances turns into something neither of them can deny — tension thick enough to choke on, every moment charged, quiet, dangerous. and when she dares him to follow her, he doesn't hesitate.

lu's note: hi!! instead of making this one-shot smutty, i decided to make it charged with sexual tension between these two (it definitely has potential for a part two with smut if you guys are interested 👀). alsooo my requests are open atm if you want to send something in!! i think that was all i had to say lmao, thanks for reading

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀masterlist⠀ | ⠀taglist⠀ | ⠀more to read

Yoongi didn’t want to be here.

He was already itching under the collar of his suit, his tie too tight no matter how many times he subtly tugged at it. He shifted his weight, hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored slacks as his manager chatted with some executive he didn’t recognize — or care to. The lights were too soft, the music too polished, and everyone around him wore the same polite smile that screamed networking opportunity rather than actual interest.

He’d done the red carpet, posed for photos with the sponsors, nodded through two glassy interviews, and now he was trying to disappear into a dark corner of the ballroom with a half-glass of something amber and sharp. It wasn’t bad. Just... not enough.

This was what his life looked like now — solo appearances, solo press runs, solo dinners. The other members had gone off to fulfill their service, and though they kept in touch, the silence in the dorms had started to feel louder than any crowd.

He could hear Jin’s voice in his head: just show face, say thank you, and get the hell out before someone asks for karaoke.

Yoongi almost smiled.

And then —

She walked in.

He noticed her before the crowd did. Or maybe they did too, but didn’t quite react the same way.

She wasn’t flashy, not in the usual way actresses made entrances. She wasn’t dripping in jewels or batting her lashes at the cameras. But there was a quiet kind of magnetism to her, like the kind of song that doesn’t hit you until the third listen — and then it won’t leave you alone.

Her dress hugged her body just enough to command attention, but it was the way she moved — unhurried, confident — that made Yoongi straighten subtly, gaze tracking her as she crossed the room like she’d rehearsed it in heels and hardwood a thousand times.

She didn’t look at him.

He told himself he was only watching because she looked vaguely familiar. An actress. He’d probably seen her in something, but he couldn’t place it. And still — he watched.

His manager leaned in. “That’s the girl presenting the grant award later. She’s the face of that new indie film with the Venice buzz. She’s kind of everywhere right now.”

Yoongi just hummed, eyes still on her. She laughed at something someone said — a real laugh, the kind that crinkled her nose and tipped her head back slightly. She had no idea he was staring.

But god, she was pretty.

And Yoongi, who had been perfectly content with fading into the wallpaper tonight, suddenly didn’t feel like hiding anymore.

The first time her eyes met his, it was an accident. Probably.

She was in conversation with someone — a producer or a director by the looks of it — her hand delicately holding the stem of a wine glass, one shoulder tilted back in that practiced red carpet way, when her gaze skimmed the room and snagged on his.

Yoongi felt it like a pinprick. Just a flick of her eyes, a pass-through. Except... she didn’t keep moving.

She held it.

Not long. A second, maybe two. Enough for him to feel the soft, subtle shift in the air around him — the moment going still. She didn’t smile, didn’t look away immediately, and Yoongi? He didn’t either.

Her eyes glinted — there was no better word for it — something playful or curious or maybe even amused. Like she knew exactly who he was and wasn’t all that impressed. Like she’d been watching him first.

And then, as if remembering herself, she blinked and turned her attention back to her glass, laughing at something the man beside her said. Not a hair out of place.

But Yoongi stood there, unmoving, with a ghost of heat still crawling up the back of his neck.

He told himself not to look again.

He looked again.

She didn’t glance his way this time — not that he caught — but she shifted in her stance, exposing more of her neck, brushing her fingers along her collarbone. Deliberate or not, it made his mouth go dry.

Yoongi exhaled slowly, bringing his drink to his lips like it might hide the way his jaw had subtly tightened. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. Or maybe he was, once — when the seven of them would work a room with a mix of chaos and charm — but this? This slow burn stare across a sea of designer suits and string quartets? This wasn’t his usual arena.

And yet...

He couldn’t bring himself to look away for too long.

She caught him watching again twenty minutes later.

This time, she did smile. Brief. Coy. Not even directed at him, not technically — but her lips curled just as her eyes passed over his, like a secret shared under breathless silence.

He swore she was enjoying it.

And still — neither of them moved. Not toward each other. Not yet.

He wondered if she was waiting for him to crack first.

He wondered how long he could stand this game.

The third time he glanced in her direction, it hit him.

Not all at once — more like a slow bleed. A flicker of her profile, the curve of her smirk as she nodded through a compliment, the way her hands moved when she talked — expressive, graceful, like someone used to taking up space on camera — and something in his brain clicked.

He’d seen her before.

Not just here. Not just tonight.

A clip.

Yoongi blinked, tilted his head just slightly, trying to chase it down.

It wasn’t anything dramatic — no scene-stealing performance, no scandal. Just a moment from some variety show that’d passed through his feed a year or two back. She was in a sleek black dress, hair shorter than it was now, legs crossed confidently as a flustered host asked her the million-won question: what’s your ideal type?

She didn’t name anyone. Played coy, the way they all did when management told them to avoid specifics.

But the way she said, “i like quiet people. mysterious. the kind who don’t need to be the loudest in the room to pull attention,” had lit the internet on fire for a hot second.

Fans clipped the moment to death, pairing it with every idol imaginable. But the top comments had mostly been the same:

“girl just described min yoongi and dipped.”

He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Just another clip. Another game. And he didn’t watch those kinds of shows unless someone forced him to.

But now? Standing here, watching her command the room with none of the desperation he was so used to seeing at these things, it landed different. It lingered.

She hadn’t approached him.

Neither had he.

And maybe that made it worse.

Because now he knew she knew who he was. Or at least… he suspected. And there was something in her eyes that told him she’d seen the clip too — or heard about it. Something about the way she’d looked at him. Measured. Steady. A slow blink, not surprised — prepared.

He didn’t know much else about her.

Her name, yeah. He’d seen it on posters for a coming-of-age high school drama, the kind stylized in soft lighting and pink overlays. He remembered the interviews after — her deadpan delivery as she confessed she only took the role because her agent guilt-tripped her into it, how she hated how they styled her hair, how she cringed at her own delivery of the “i like you, oppa” line.

He’d chuckled at that interview. She’d been honest. Blunt. Something about that had stuck with him, too.

And now, here she was. Real. Tall. Quietly devastating. And watching him like she knew something he didn’t.

Yoongi finished his drink.

Maybe it was time to stop playing polite.

Or maybe it was time to let her come to him.

Either way, something was happening — slow and certain — and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

Yoongi slipped away without much thought, half-finished drink abandoned on some linen-covered table, the chatter of the ballroom dissolving behind him like steam off hot glass. His manager didn’t notice — or pretended not to — which he appreciated. One less question to shrug off.

He followed the curve of the corridor, deeper into the venue, where the light dimmed and the press of bodies thinned out. A hall lined with mirrors and floral arrangements led to the back terrace — not quite hidden, but quiet enough to breathe.

He stepped outside.

It was colder than he expected, the Seoul night curling cool fingers into the stiff collar of his shirt. He exhaled hard, hands bracing on the stone railing, the silence settling like a weight in his chest — heavy, but better than all that polite conversation.

This wasn’t his thing.

Never had been.

The constant smiling. The small talk with people who only knew him in keywords. The way the music never really drowned out the static in his head.

It was like being trapped in a room where the walls were made of glass — everyone looking in, and no one ever seeing past the reflection.

He ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching at the base of his neck where sweat had started to cling. He needed ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. Just to be alone.

And then—

He heard it. The soft, unhurried click of heels.

He didn’t turn. Not right away. But he stilled.

The sound grew closer — not close enough to be bold, but deliberate. Slow. Intentional. When he finally looked, she was there.

Not right beside him. Not even within touching distance.

A few paces away, arms loosely crossed, the wind tugging playfully at the fabric of her dress. She stood there like she’d been looking for him — or maybe not. Maybe this was her spot, too.

Her gaze met his. Not shy. Not smug either.

Just... level.

Like they were picking up a conversation they hadn’t started yet.

Neither of them spoke.

She stepped a little closer, not closing the space entirely, just enough to share the moment without asking for anything. Her perfume reached him before her voice did — soft jasmine, something warm beneath it. He didn’t recognize it, but somehow it made his stomach tighten.

Finally, she said, “it’s loud in there.”

Yoongi’s lips curled at the edge.

That was the understatement of the year.

“you don’t seem the type to hate the spotlight,” he murmured, low.

“i don’t,” she replied, coolly. “but sometimes it feels like it’s hating me.”

That surprised a small breath of laughter out of him. Quiet. Real.

She tilted her head. “you always this elusive, or is it just tonight?”

Yoongi finally turned to face her fully, elbow still braced on the railing.

“depends,” he said. “you always this direct?”

She smirked. “depends.”

That hung there between them — easy, almost lazy — and yet the air was taut, like a string drawn back and waiting to snap.

They didn’t move.

They didn’t need to.

Something had shifted. Just enough.

Yoongi wasn’t tired anymore.

The conversation slipped in the same way she had — smooth, unannounced, strangely welcome.

They talked about nothing at first.

Weather. The view. The brand of wine being passed around inside — neither of them liked it, which felt like a strange kind of agreement. She mentioned the ridiculous sponsor gift bags, and Yoongi snorted when she admitted she’d already lost hers somewhere between the coat check and the champagne tower.

He found himself answering her without thinking. Letting his shoulders drop. Saying more than he usually would.

It wasn’t the way she spoke — though she was eloquent, wry, and more clever than most. It was the way she listened. How she let silence hang without rushing to fill it. How her eyes tracked his like she wanted to hear what he thought — not because of who he was, but because of how he said it.

And somewhere along the way, the lines between idle banter and flirtation started to blur.

When he said something dry and slightly cynical about award shows, she grinned and said, “careful, people might mistake you for charming.”

He raised a brow. “you mistaking me for charming?”

She hummed, tilting her head like she was weighing it. “maybe.”

Later, when he told her he didn’t remember the last time he willingly stayed at one of these things longer than he had to, she leaned a little closer and said, “guess I should feel special then.”

And maybe it was the moonlight catching on her skin. Or maybe it was the faint flush of wine on her cheeks. But Yoongi found himself looking at her differently — not just as the girl from the clip or the actress with the sharp tongue, but as someone he wanted to keep talking to.

Someone who surprised him.

Because this wasn’t him.

He wasn’t the type to flirt casually. To linger on someone’s lips when they weren’t speaking. To trace a fingertip over the condensation on the railing just because she had done the same a moment earlier. He didn’t do this.

And yet, here he was.

“I should go back in,” she said eventually, her voice soft, almost reluctant.

Yoongi nodded, suddenly a little too aware of how long they’d been standing out here.

She didn’t move right away. Her eyes held his for a beat longer — unreadable, steady — then she stepped back.

No fanfare. No goodbye.

Just: “don’t disappear completely.”

Then she turned and walked back through the glass doors, her silhouette catching the light for one last flicker before slipping out of sight.

Yoongi stayed where he was, heart beating a little harder than it should’ve been.

He didn’t disappear.

But he didn’t follow either.

Not yet.

Yoongi reentered the ballroom ten minutes later.

He wasn’t even sure what he expected — maybe the same static atmosphere he’d left behind. But things had shifted. Or he had.

She wasn’t looking at him when he stepped back in. She was standing near a circular table, deep in conversation with someone he vaguely recognized from a recent Netflix project. She was laughing, but her posture was loose now, less stiff than earlier. Like the edge had worn down.

He moved toward a small group clustered near the far end — an artist he'd collaborated with once, an old producer, someone from a fashion house — and for the first time all evening, Yoongi stayed in the conversation.

Not fully. Not with his whole attention.

But enough to nod, add in a comment here and there, even offer a small smile.

Because every few minutes, he’d catch her watching him.

Not obviously. Not in a way anyone else would notice.

But her eyes would drift — over a glass rim, past someone’s shoulder — and settle on him. For a second. Two. Long enough for him to feel it.

And when she caught him looking back, she didn’t look away like before.

She held it.

Once, when they crossed paths between clusters of mingling guests, her fingers brushed against his — just barely — like a ripple in silk. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t an accident.

Another time, she leaned in while passing behind him and whispered, “i swear, if one more man over fifty tells me he loved me in that high school drama, i’m gonna fake a fainting spell.”

Her breath skimmed his ear. He had to bite back a laugh.

“do it,” he murmured, without turning his head. “i’ll catch you.”

That made her pause. Just slightly. Enough to send a spark up both their spines.

Later, she found herself standing beside him again. Close enough to smell the warm cedar of his cologne. Not close enough to touch — but the kind of closeness that crackles.

“you’re smiling more,” she said, casually.

“you’re imagining things,” he replied.

She tilted her head. “sure i am.”

And then she did something he didn’t expect.

She leaned in again — not to whisper something snarky, not to tease — just to look at him fully. To see him.

“you look like someone who’s finally letting themselves enjoy the night,” she said, softer this time.

Yoongi didn’t respond right away.

But something shifted behind his eyes. Something open. Bare.

“maybe i am.”

The lights dimmed slightly as the final round of speeches began — polite applause, practiced smiles, a rotation of figures taking the stage one by one. Yoongi had tucked himself toward the side of the room again, half-listening, swirling the remnants of his drink, mostly watching her.

She hadn’t looked at him in a while.

Not directly.

But he felt her everywhere — in the way his pulse tripped every time she laughed, in the ghost of her perfume still lingering near his collar, in the phantom brush of her hand across his an hour ago that he hadn’t stopped thinking about since.

He didn’t expect much when her name was called.

Just the usual — a poised thank you, something light about the cause, maybe a rehearsed joke about the indie film industry. But then she stepped up to the mic in a fitted satin gown that caught the stage lights like molten silver, and Yoongi forgot to breathe.

She was magnetic.

Poised, sure. But loose in her skin. Her smile curved with intention. Her voice rang out, rich and playful, dancing between sincerity and charm so naturally that the whole room leaned in.

She opened with a quip about actor egos. The crowd laughed.

She thanked the organizers, cracked a joke about one of the directors being too handsome to trust with funding decisions, made a subtle nod to the importance of art in lonely times. Yoongi caught her saying something like “art is how we look at each other without saying it out loud.”

That one hit a little too close.

And still — still — she looked at him.

Not every second. But enough.

Between lines. Between pauses. Her eyes would wander the room, always land on him like they’d just remembered where they wanted to be. Like he was the safe place in a room full of pretty strangers.

She wasn’t hiding it anymore.

Not the lingering glance. Not the barely-there smirk when she said something cheeky. Not the way her fingers curled just slightly around the microphone when her gaze dropped to his mouth for half a second too long.

Yoongi leaned back in his seat, elbow resting on the table, and let her look.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t flinch.

But his eyes burned right back.

If anyone was watching closely, they’d see it — the kind of tension that wasn’t meant to be public but had no choice anymore. Like the room had melted away and there were only two people left, pretending to keep their distance while undressing each other with their eyes.

She wrapped her speech with a coy, “thank you for letting me steal your attention, even if just for a little while.”

The applause was thunderous.

But Yoongi didn’t clap.

He was too busy watching her step down, composure intact, but her eyes flicking to him one last time — and that was the moment he knew.

This wasn’t just harmless flirting anymore.

This was a spark waiting to be set on fire.

She excused herself somewhere between the end of a speech and the announcement of dessert, murmured something to the person beside her and slipped from the circle with the same effortless grace she’d had all night. Yoongi didn’t watch her go — not directly. But he saw the way her fingers ghosted along the curve of her clutch, the way her heels tapped against the marble, the way she passed by his side without a word and let her hand — barely — brush the bend of his elbow.

It wasn’t an accident.

Not after the look she gave him — not bold, not obvious — but expectant. Daring. As if to say, you coming, or are we pretending we’re done?

She didn’t look back once.

Yoongi waited two full minutes. Long enough to not make it obvious. Long enough to convince himself he wasn’t being impulsive. And then he stood up, excused himself with a nod, and slipped into the hallway like a shadow.

The corridors were quieter now — muted laughter and the clatter of glassware bleeding faintly from the ballroom behind him. He walked slowly at first, fingers adjusting his jacket sleeve, eyes scanning for her.

He caught a glimpse of her at the end of the corridor — a swish of silver, a turn of her head just before she disappeared right around the corner. Definitely not toward the bathrooms.

Yoongi’s mouth curved slightly, the weight in his chest heavier now — not stress, not exhaustion, but curiosity. Want.

He followed.

She led him through one turn, then another. Past the staff doors, past a roped-off staircase, deeper into the quiet hum of the hotel’s back corridors. They didn’t speak. Didn’t call each other’s names. There was no need. Every step she took was permission.

By the time she stopped, they were somewhere off the map. A tucked-away lounge maybe, or a service hallway that hadn’t seen a crowd in hours. Soft golden light spilled from a wall sconce, bathing her skin in something too tender for a woman who’d spent the whole evening mastering poise. Here, alone, her edges softened. Her back remained to him for a moment longer than necessary, like she was catching her breath.

She turned around just as he reached her.

Neither of them spoke.

They stood there, only feet apart but thick with everything that hadn’t been said. She watched him like she’d been waiting for this — not impatient, just ready.

Yoongi’s gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then back up to her eyes.

And then he exhaled — a dry laugh, quiet and a little self-conscious — and said, “you sure do know how to make a simple guy feel like the main character.”

Her lips curled, slow and knowing, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t a smile meant for a camera or a room full of people.

It was for him.

She took a step closer, the heels silent now against the carpet, and tilted her head just enough for the light to catch in her eyes.

“there’s nothing simple about you,” she said, voice low.

And Yoongi believed her.

Because right now, with the quiet pressing in around them, with her looking at him like he was the answer to a question she hadn’t known how to ask — he didn’t feel tired. Or distant. Or guarded.

He felt seen.

And if he leaned in now, just slightly — if her hand brushed his chest in return — they both knew exactly what would happen next.

Yoongi didn’t move at first.

He just stood there, still held in her gaze, like some invisible string had been pulled tight between them. But then she took another step. A quiet one. Not enough to close the distance, but enough to change it — the kind of step that said, your turn.

And he answered without a word.

One step.

Then another.

Her eyes never left his. Neither of them smiled, not really, but there was something dangerously close curled at the corner of her mouth — playful, knowing, like she was already writing the next five seconds in her head and daring him to catch up.

“you always this good at slipping away from crowds?” she murmured, voice softer now, just for him.

“you make it easier,” he replied, a little rougher, each word grazing the space between them like a touch.

Another step.

Close enough now that the soft scent of her perfume found him again — jasmine and warm skin and something deeper beneath it that made his breath catch low in his throat.

“i wasn’t sure you’d follow,” she said, eyes flicking briefly to his lips, then back to his eyes like she wanted him to notice.

“you touched me,” he said simply, like that explained everything. and it kind of did.

Her laugh was breathy now, barely a sound. “bold of me.”

“stupid, really,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly — teasing, sharp.

“i’m an actress,” she whispered, voice like silk sliding over stone. “i do stupid things for tension.”

And fuck, that pulled a real grin from him — crooked and short-lived, but there.

Their steps slowed. They were barely a breath apart now.

Yoongi leaned in just slightly, his head tilted like he was listening for something she hadn’t said yet.

“you flirting?” he asked, low.

“what gave it away?” she breathed.

“the way you looked at me like you already had a scene in mind.”

Her breath hitched, just a little, the space between them crackling.

“and what do you think happens in that scene, yoongi?”

His hand brushed the wall beside her — not touching, just close. His voice dipped.

“depends on how long we keep pretending we’re not already in it.”

She didn’t answer him right away.

Her gaze flicked between his eyes and his mouth, lashes low, lips parted just barely — like she was already tasting what would come next. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t awkward, wasn’t hesitant. It pulsed. It breathed. The kind of silence that thrums with every unsaid thing they’d been building toward since the first glance across the ballroom.

And then, she reached for him.

Not dramatically — no sharp grab or desperate lunge. Just her fingers curling softly into the lapel of his blazer, tugging him forward with a quiet surety that made his pulse jackknife in his throat. Her other hand came up to ghost over the line of his jaw, her touch featherlight, like she needed to confirm he was real. Yoongi didn’t resist. He leaned in, his breath brushing hers now, every part of him humming with how close she was.

“You gonna keep talking,” she whispered, voice low and velvet-wrapped, “or are you finally gonna shut up and kiss me?”

Yoongi didn’t smile, but something shifted in his expression — a flicker of surrender, of heat curling behind his eyes like a storm finally breaking. She’d won. But it wasn’t a victory. It was a truce, a mutual unraveling. And when he moved, it was like a thread snapping loose from both of them.

He kissed her like they were already in the middle of something — no hesitation, no testing the waters. Just lips colliding like a secret finally exhaled. Her mouth was soft but insistent, tasting like wine and want, and Yoongi lost track of his breath instantly. She tilted her head to deepen it, fingers twisting tighter in his jacket as her body arched toward his, like they’d been waiting to fit together like this all night.

He groaned — quiet, buried — and his hand finally found her waist, pulling her in flush. No one was around to see. No cameras, no curious glances. Just them, hidden behind a dozen turns and a door left slightly ajar, lost in a kiss that had been begging to happen since she first caught him staring.

Her lips broke from his just enough to breathe, but they didn’t pull apart.

“so,” she murmured, breath skimming his lips, “still think you’re just a simple guy?”

Yoongi chuckled, low and rough and completely undone. His thumb brushed along the small of her back, anchoring her there.

“no,” he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth like he couldn’t help it, “not when you look at me like that.”

She didn’t give him time to say anything more after that — didn’t need to. Her mouth was already claiming his in a way that left nothing open to interpretation. This wasn’t a kiss built on curiosity anymore. It was hunger. Permission. Weeks, maybe months, of imagining what it would be like to let go with someone who could match them.

Yoongi melted into it, no — gave into it, let her guide him backwards with one hand curled tightly in his jacket and the other sliding into his hair like she’d been aching to touch it all night. His spine met the wall with a dull thud, but he didn’t care. Her body followed, pressing flush against his, and he made a sound into her mouth that was far too low, far too honest for someone usually so composed.

He wasn’t composed now.

Her lips were hot and eager, tongue teasing at his in a way that had his hands roaming on instinct. One gripped her waist, pulling her closer, while the other flattened against the back of her neck, fingers spread wide like he needed to anchor himself to her or risk falling through the floor. She kissed him deeper — not gentler, not sweeter — just more. Like she wanted to know how far he’d let this go before breaking.

Spoiler: not far. He was already halfway there.

When her teeth tugged on his bottom lip, Yoongi swore under his breath — a low, bitten-off curse — and surged forward, spinning her gently but firmly so she was the one pressed against the wall now. His mouth didn’t leave hers. If anything, it got rougher — not careless, just real. All tongue and heat and breath caught between gritted teeth. She moaned softly, and the sound went straight to his gut, coiling low and tight.

Their bodies moved together like they’d done this before in a dream they’d both forgotten. Her fingers were in his hair, tugging just enough to make his jaw clench. His hands were sliding down her back, settling at the curve of her ass with a grip that was possessive in a way neither of them were ready to name out loud. She gasped when he ground against her — fully, deliberately — and her head tipped back just enough for him to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

"fuck," she breathed, barely more than a sound.

He smiled against her throat. "yeah," he murmured, voice rough and uneven. "that makes two of us."

Her hand slid under the lapel of his jacket, nails dragging lightly along the crisp shirt beneath, and he could feel her trembling — not from nerves, but restraint. It was mutual. They were both right on the edge, poised in that dangerous place where want turns into need, and everything rational starts to fade beneath the weight of it.

She pulled him back in with a hand on his tie, lips crashing into his again — messier now, swollen, open, desperate. Their breaths tangled, their hips pressed, and time stopped existing. All Yoongi could feel was her. All she could think about was him.

And god, if someone didn’t walk down this hallway soon...

They were going to do something they wouldn’t be able to walk away from.

Yoongi’s hand had just slipped beneath the open side of her dress — palm skating the bare skin of her waist, hungry for more — when his phone vibrated sharply in his pocket. The sound was muffled, but the moment they both stilled, it may as well have been a siren.

He didn’t move at first. His forehead rested against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips kiss-swollen and parted, panting into each other’s silence.

“don’t,” she whispered, fingers fisting gently in the fabric of his shirt. “just let it ring.”

He almost listened.

God, he wanted to.

But reality creeped in like a cold breeze — a reminder of where they were, what this was, who he was. The text buzzed again. Reluctantly, Yoongi eased back a few inches and dug into his pocket, checking the screen with a muttered curse under his breath.

[manager] yoongi-ssi, they’re asking for you. where did you go?

He didn’t respond. Just stared at the message like it had yanked him out of something he wasn’t ready to leave behind.

“I have to go back,” he said, the words landing heavy. Apologetic.

She didn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, her hand smoothed over the lapel of his blazer, brushing down the fabric until it slipped into the inside pocket. When her fingers withdrew, there was a small folded piece of paper tucked neatly where only he would find it later. Her eyes never left his.

And then she was kissing him again.

Hard. Decisive. Like she was stamping her name into his memory before letting him go. Her mouth moved against his like she’d never doubted they’d meet again — tongue slipping past his lips with one last claim, hands curling in the collar of his jacket to hold him there, to brand him.

When she pulled away, it wasn’t clean. Her mouth lingered, brushing over his one last time, slower now, like she was memorizing the shape of it.

Then she leaned in, her lips grazing the shell of his ear, her nose brushing along his jaw in a featherlight stroke that made him shudder.

“to be continued?” she whispered.

It wasn’t a question.

Not really.

She stepped back before he could answer — before he could do anything. Her eyes glittered with something wicked and unfinished, her mouth swollen, hair slightly mussed, and she still looked like she owned the room even from a dark hallway no one was supposed to see.

By the time Yoongi made it back inside, cheeks still flushed, heart still pounding, the weight of her number pressed against his chest like a loaded gun... he knew exactly how this story was going to continue.

And he couldn’t wait to turn the page.

quietly always, cigarettesuga.

#꒰꒰⠀⠀⠀cigarettesuga ⠀⠀◟⠀𖹭⠀◝⠀⠀⠀ᯇ⠀⠀⠀writes.#꒰     美術。 ꒱ㅤㅤ⛶ㅤㅤ﹫ 静けさㅤ 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚊.#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts reactions #bts #bts writing #bts army #bts yoongi #bts myg #myg #myg fluff #bts suga

129 notes · View notes