danganranpadiva

[danganranpadiva]

RUN AWAY PT. 2

A/N: I couldn't wait. I'm doing this instead of my homework :)

Warnings: reader has a little abandonment issue, simon speaks in tongues iykwim

god I dunno guys

simon just makes me feel things

gulp.

Part One

. . .

You miss Simon. 

You understand well that he's the main provider right now, as you only have a part time job. You just began online schooling for psychology, and you didn't necessarily have the time to be working much. However, being home without him is excruciating. You find yourself often just wanting to hear his voice. It's so quiet in the house when he's gone. Not that he talks a whole lot anyway-- his presence speaks volumes. You think about giving him a call a lot, even if it's only a few minutes. But you don't want to annoy him while he's working his ass off to take care of you and your dreams.

Huffing, you roll over in bed and glare at the ceiling. You should be doing your homework. Instead, you're moping and pitying yourself. It's not like he isn't going to be home in a few hours. 

Except, something deep inside you whimpers every time he leaves. The thought always crosses your mind; he's not going to come back. It's an utterly ridiculous thought, you know that too. That doesn't change the fact that it's there, itching just beneath the skin and something you can't turn off. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you groan loudly in utter frustration, and insecurity, and unjust anger towards him. You wish he could just read your mind so you don't feel so insecure of your own thoughts. You want to rant to him, tell him how much you hate that he's gone. How much you miss him. Need him.

A molten stickiness in your chest makes you sick. Sick of yourself and sick of how you act. You don't know when you began to feel so unsure of your and Simon's connection, but you're second guessing everything you think and it stresses you out.

"This is so stupid," you whisper bitterly, Awiping at your cheeks in self-induced frustration. 

Flipping onto your side, you decide sleeping is better than procrastinating and wishing he was here when he isn't.

-------

Simon grunts quietly as he pushes open the door to their apartment, kicking the door closed with his dirty boots. Cursing softly, he hurriedly kicks off the offending footwear and scolds himself mentally for tracking dirt into the house. You'd have his head with those tiny hands of yours. He needs a shower, but he decides to go check on you first. You're usually sitting at the small desk in the living area, yet your computer was closed and the lights were off. His heavy footfalls travel through the silent house as he crosses the hall to your bedroom easily. There, he sees you cuddled into the sheets, a less than pleasant expression on your pretty face despite being asleep.

He frowns himself, already irate at the fact something had you so upset. He doesn't wake you, not wanting to interrupt your rest even though he was itching to know what happened. Instead, he turns and walks to their bathroom across the hall to shower. 

He doesn't take too long, steam pillowing out of the bathroom as the cool air rushes in. He doesn't bother putting a shirt on, opting for his low, black sweats. After finishing his nightly routine, he turns off the bathroom light and makes his way into the bedroom. His exhaustion is damn near drowning him at this point, and he's dragging himself into the comfort of the mattress. 

The bounce of the mattress quickly rouses you from your sleep. Simon is on his side facing away from you, just like he usually is. He isn't a big cuddle-bug, often getting too hot during the night to be able to get a good sleep. 

However, tonight his distance got to you. All of the negative feelings flooded back into your mind and the tears chased right after them. He doesn't love you anymore. He doesn't even want to touch you. He never wants to touch you. He's going to leave one day and never come back. He'll find someone who's less dependent. Someone worth working hard for.

You hadn't noticed your own heavy breathing and choked sobs, but Simon immediately flipped over. His face was worried, the frown lines between his eyebrows more prominent than ever. His arms are around you in an instant, a large hand on the back of your head and the other keeping you tight against him.

"Trouble, breathe, alrigh'?" He grumbles gently against your forehead. The blunt of his nails scraped from the crown of your head down to the nape of your neck soothingly, trying all he can to get those pretty eyes on him.

You curl into him, working yourself into a panic as you try to grasp onto reality. Reality is-- he's here. He isn't going anywhere. In no world would he ever abandon me. Not like so many people have. You drag your wet eyes up to his dirt brown ones and he can see everything he needs to know through them.

"Talk to me, lovie." He murmurs, the hand in your hair gliding to your jaw, thumb gently stroking at the apple of your cheek. 

It's difficult for you to say what you're thinking, especially when you're so embarrassed for the foul way you've been thinking. You don't want to anger him, or make him feel smothered. You don't want to burden him. Yet, a small voice needs to know.

"You won't leave me right?" You whisper weakly, so unsure of yourself and everything, but you need to be sure of this one thing. 

Simon doesn't say anything. His expression changes and his eyebrows lower, shadowing his already dark eyes in a way that tightens the muscles in your throat.

"Leave you?" He repeats lowly, eyes narrowing at you. You swallow and look up at him nervously, yet you nod nonetheless. He exhales slowly through his nose, looking almost as if he is contemplating something intensely. His demeanor flips, and you think he's mad at you until he gently rolls you on your back and climbs on top of you. "Why would I do tha'?" The question is almost rhetorical as he cranes his neck down to kiss at your throat.

You breath catches in your throat, eyes fluttering shut instinctively at the pleasant sensation. He is making it harder for you to think, and not only that, he is making you forget what you are even upset over. "Sometimes, I think you don't want me anymore." I breathe out, the words causing tears to sting in your eyes at the thought alone.

Simon doesn't say anything, just nips at your skin harshly and drags his teeth down your jugular. A small moan slips from your lips, and your legs are widening around his waist in reaction. His tongue pokes out, lightly dragging between your collar bone and leaving a wet trail in its wake. As he reaches the collar of your (his) shirt, he sits back on his heels and looks down at you. "Do I need to prove myself to you?" He questions, crossing his muscular arms across his bare chest. The veins pulsed from the movement, making your focus increasingly harder to maintain.

You didn't know how to answer, mind spit firing contradicting thoughts that made it hard to comprehend what you should say. Simon didn't need an answer anyway, having already made up his mind that you were going to come apart on his tongue tonight.

"'S alrigh', love. 'M gonna make it all better." He gives you a lazy smile, leaning down to place a small kiss on your lips before he pushes his hands beneath your shirt. His callused palms felt so good on your smooth skin, the sensation causing goosebumps to prickle over the expanse of your abdomen. They palm your breasts, kneading them gently before pushing your shirt up to your chin and latching onto one of the pebbled buds promptly.

You gasp softly, hands finding his hair as his free hand tweaks and rolls your other nipple gently. Your thighs tightened around his hips, pent up arousal pooling between your thighs in response to his touches.

He flicks his tongue over the bud before popping off and giving your other breast the same attention. He kisses down your sternum, biting and leaving little love bites on his way down your abdomen. Your chest was falling faster in anticipation, thong sticking to your core almost uncomfortably as you become increasingly more aroused.

Finally, he reaches the band of your panties and looks up at you from his position between your thighs. His hands smooth up the fat of them until they find your hips, squeezing the fat of them and staring at you through warm chocolate eyes. "Here's what we're goin' to do," he begins in a deep rumble, the pure authority in his tone making you want to hide. "I'm goin' to fuck you with my tongue, and you're goin' to tell me how much daddy loves you. Got that, sweetheart?" He questions, his thumbs gently caressing at your hips.

That seemed to be the last straw for my insecurities, as all doubts and negative thoughts flew out the window. Nodding your head obediently, you breathe out. "Yes, sir."

----

OKAY OKAY OKAY. I know you're mad that this isn't a real smut, but I didn't have the energy to make mind-blowing smut right now :')

I also wanted to get this out as fast as I could, so this is what I came up with.

Let me know what you think!

xoxo,

ella-nicole <33

[danganranpadiva]

COD MASTERLIST

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

run away

[danganranpadiva]

run away

A/N: As majority votes, we're writing about my baby boy ghosty poo!<3

Anyway, this is an AU where Simon and you are friends that don't know the benefits just yet. This probably isn't proofread, so I apologize in advance.

Warnings: Simon's just a bit handsy.

p.s.: I apologize sincerely, I meant to finish this last night, but I fell asleep with the damn app open sigh. I hope you LIKE IT!

Simon has always been closed off.

He never spoke during school and he definitely wasn't even remotely approachable. However, when you met him, you couldn't help but feel so strongly for him. You wanted to know him as if he were an extension of yourself. He was a mystery, and you loved riddles.

That's how you became his favorite nuisance. You'd randomly strike conversation with him, asking him pointless questions just to see how he'd respond. He'd hardly respond, only to tell you to shut up before you ask him another question.

A year passes, and by that time he had softened to you. He was fond of you, regardless of how he felt when you first spoke to him. Eventually, you knew all there was to know about him. At least, that's what you thought until he finally told you his living situation.

Hearing what his father and brother have inflicted on him his entire life, it made you physically ill. He told you that there was no use in being upset, that it was his life and not to stress your little head about it. However, you couldn't just let that go.

For months, you'd schemed, plotted, and planned for a way to get him out of that shitty place. Finally you came to a conclusion.

You would run away with him.

--

'Tap! Tap! Tap!'

Simon sat up on his mattress, his head spinning and blood pulsing in his ears. He was still fully clothed, not bothering to change since he was in such a pissy mood. Something was tapping on his window, and frankly, he didn't have the patience to listen to it all damn night.

With an angry grumble, he rips his curtains open, prepared to release his pent up rage on whatever it was. However, that irritation fades into nothing as his dark eyes fall onto your face outside his window.

"Trouble?" He mumbles, taking your hand and gently helping you into his tiny room. He was beyond perplexed-- you knew better than to just show up at his house. Simon glances over his shoulder wearily at his locked door, not wanting his dad to come back. He never wanted his father or brother to see you. He knew the disgusting things they'd do just to hurt him.

You smile brightly at him, but that falls the moment your eyes land on the darkened bruise just beneath his right eye. "Si, are you alright? What happened to you?" Your hands worried over him, gently cupping his cheek as you examine the discoloration.

His large, calloused hands cover both of yours and pull them away from his face with a gentle expression, unusual to his rough features. "Just a scratch, lovie. What're ya doin' here?" His face was stern, and it made you shrink a bit.

You planned for so long, you didn't even think about what you'd do if he refused.

"Well," you swallow thickly, your voice unsure and a little nervous. His unwavering stare is relentless, small droplets of sweat gathering on your neck. "I have a surprise?" Kind of. God, you hope he says yes.

Simon raises a dark eyebrow and crosses his arms. "And wha's tha'?" He is whispering, but you could practically see the drooling sarcasm in his tone. That only made you more nervous. Was this a bad idea? No. The thought of him staying here made your stomach turn.

"Run away with me."

There's a thick silence that pursues your blunt statement. Both of you just stare at one another, almost as if you hadn't said anything at all.

"You're a loon." He dismisses, turning to plop back down on his bed. You follow instinctively, standing at the side of his bed with your arms crossed and a pout on your face.

"Just listen!" You whisper-shout. The dark haired man just shoves his face into the pillow, groaning lowly. "Simon," You hiss, pinching his butt. He doesn't jump, he just turns his head over his shoulder and shoots you a harsh glare.

"'M listenin'," he mumbles tiredly.

"Good, because I have been planning this for months." You huff. It only took as long as it did because you needed to save enough money, but it was well worth it. You climb in beside him, laying on your back. You nearly fall off the side of the skimpy twin mattress, but one of his thick arms wrap around your middle tightly and tugs you into his side. His stomach and cheek press against the mattress as he looks at you, his eyes are dark and exhausted but he's intrigued. You, his little nuisance, want to run away with him. Nothing but trouble, really, but he couldn't help but grow fond of your antics. It warms his heart, the same heart he thought was frozen over eternally.

"Talk, trouble," Simon rumbles, eyes instinctively looking over at his door once more, ears listening for any sounds of footsteps. Half of him just wanted to go with her now and have her explain later, but just the thought of getting caught, his father seeing her, it made him want to throw up. He tightens his arm around her, turning his body so he was laying on his side. He needs to make sure she has an actual plan.

Ecstatic that he was letting you plead your case, you turn to your side, tossing one of your legs over his hip like you always did. His hand cups the underside of your knee and tugs you closer, then keeps you pressed against him with firm grip on your ass. Grinning happily, you begin the small tangent in an urgent whisper. "I have been planning this for about... six months." You admit in a hush tone.

Simon stays silent, his hand brushing up the curve of your lower back, pushing beneath your shirt absentmindedly. He hums and you take that as a sign to continue. "I booked us a hotel for a week. After that, I can pull out a loan for us to get a small apartment. You're gonna have to work too, though."

Both Simon and you were in your last week of high school. You never thought that this is where you'd be, but you couldn't help but feel happy. You still had your favorite grump, and he wouldn't be without his trouble. Although the lines between friendship and something more were definitely blurry, you didn't want it any differently.

Simon's eyes widen a fraction before they soften completely. Huffing, he presses his lips to the top of your head. He feels his heart clench. "Why would ya' do tha' for me?" He murmurs, fully wrapping both of his arms around you, his warmth blanketing you in comfort.

You can't see his face, which worries you since his tone wasn't very easy to read. You wrap your arms around him as well, pushing your face into his shirt and breathing in his scent. "That's a dumb question," you mumble back, peeking up to look at him. "You're my best friend, dummy."

Deciding that he was convinced enough for you, you sit up in his bed and stretch. "Come on, pack your things. I parked the buggy around the block." You whisper quietly as you stand and face him. Your eyes trail over him as he sits up and swings his long legs over the side of the bed. He pins you with eyes you've seen before, a cold heat in those dirt colored depths. A shaky breath shudders through you as his large hands grab at your hips and force you to step between his legs. "We should get going, Si," you whisper, but in spite of those words you find your hands trailing up his forearms slowly, raking your nails against his skin. He doesn't say a word, just continues to look up at you with an emotion you can't describe. It went deeper than any definition could begin to explain.

Simon sighs through his nose. His hand tugs your shirt up, lips pressing soft kisses to the warm skin of your belly. Smiling slightly, you run your fingers through his dark locks, tugging at his roots. You let out a soft sound of surprise as he nips at your skin, most likely in response to your rough handling of his hair. He gently swipes his tongue over the small bite, soothing it apologetically. He stands slowly, his hands never leaving your body.

"Alrigh' love," he murmurs and squeezes your sides before stepping past you to pack some things. He didn't have a lot in general, so he just shoves whatever he can into his small bag. With one last look at his bedroom door, he takes your hand and leads you to the window. He lets you out first, making sure no one saw you before he quietly escapes as well.

You lead him through the shadowy streets of Manchester, guiding him where you parked your shitty pick up. You didn't even bother trying to get in the driver seat, knowing that when in a vehicle he always prefers to drive. You also knew that it's a control thing, so you just let him.

Exhaling lowly, you feel your heart fill with relief. Your plan worked. Smiling widely at Simon, you squeal in happiness. "I can't believe this," you say breathlessly. Simon just looks at you with those deep brown eyes and you know immediately that he's grateful for you. He doesn't need to say it, because you already know.

Simon looks at you for a moment longer before leaning over the center console, his burly hand cupping the back of your neck before he presses his mouth to the corner of your lips. "Thank you," he rumbles against your lips quietly before pulling away and starting the ignition.

You sit stunned, cheeks blissfully pink. Fumbling to put your seatbelt on, you peep out a 'you're welcome' before he pulls away and into the night. The lines were definitely blurred.

----

Part Two out now!

[danganranpadiva]

What to Write?

If there is anyone out there who has an opinion on who I should write for, please fill out this poll :).

I am leaving this poll up for a couple hours, because I want to get this out tonight. If you have any special requests, please feel free to message me!

Read the story here

xoxo,

ella-nicole <33

[danganranpadiva]

Small Announcement

Hi guys! I know I haven't been on the ball with updates and things, but I just wanted to say that I'm trying :')

I just started my first week of college and there definitely is plenty to get used to. I'm in the process of making a schedule of specific dates and times that I will dedicate to my writing and blog.

However, I will try my hardest to get an update out by this weekend, so hopefully people won't be too upset at me :'')

If there is a specific person you'd like me to write for, please shoot me a message and I'll see what I can do for you.

xoxo

ella-nicole 💕

[danganranpadiva]

my man my man my man

simon riley who becomes even more smitten with his wife whenever she's angry at him. he doesn't know why, but seeing her scold him for something as simple as forgetting to put the toilet seat down or forgetting to grab a tub of ice cream just makes him grin. it makes him want to gently remind her who's in charge (at least in the bedroom; he knows how much power she has over him. he's weak to her).

all he has to do is cup her face and coo, "i'm sorry lovie, i'll do better." and suddenly she's not very mad anymore. if that doesn't work, he just pushes her against the nearest surface and eats her out until she's a babbling mess (he tried doing that in public one time; she waited until they got in the car to complain about that too).

her attitude rarely gets to him though. if anything, it just turns him on. although if she gets too mouthy, he'll just let her yap without saying anything, just staring down at her. that's when she knows she's in actual trouble.

after she mellows out and simon finishes having his fill of her, she'll get very shy and grumble at him for that dirty trick she falls for every time. "did i not do enough of a good job love? need another round?" she shuts up after that, turning her heated face away from simon's smug grin, the bastard.

[danganranpadiva]

just let me live 😭

the sandwich price to minimum wage ratio is getting so fucked up

[danganranpadiva]

NARUTO MASTERLIST

NARUTO UZUMAKI:

MINATO NAMIKAZE: bells in santa fe

SASUKE UCHIHA:

KAKASHI HATAKE

SHISUI UCHIHA:

ITACHI UCHIHA:

[danganranpadiva]

BELLS IN SANTA FE | Naruto AU

m. namikaze x s. haruno

warnings: gore, blood, strong language, war themes

Naruto was the hope – the sun that kept me going. He kept the fire in my veins and the sanity behind my eyes. I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt like this. No, Naruto had the world at his back, and like the wind, he kept us moving in uncharted waters. He was the reason we made it this far into the war, and sometimes I wonder whether that is a good or a bad thing. When I look at my friends’ faces, I feel grateful to have been given the opportunity to do so for another day longer. Yet, when the attacks were relentless and my chakra reserves were depleted, I couldn’t help but wish for a quick and easy way out. 

Naruto was right to say I hadn’t changed much. I was so stuck on being as good as them, dedicating my life to being worthy of being their teammate. I played the part well, too. Pretending to be headstrong so as not to be a burden. Burying my heart beneath the dirt so that I couldn’t fall pray to the weakness, the disease that was love. However, I always reverted back to that little girl who cried her sorrows away, although those sorrows felt silly now. Everything from our lives before seemed miniscule to the present. Even when Naruto and Hinata announced their pregnancy – it was hard to really be happy for them. Especially when that put one of our last sensory ninjas off the field for months, rendering us prone to attacks. But as his best friend, I congratulated him and promised that I would keep Hinata safe, just as I promised that I would deliver their child.

And after 8 long months, I thought everything was going smoothly. Hinata was stable and due in a few weeks, and I was in the middle of her check up when thundering footsteps approached my tent. My anxiety rose – urgency wasn’t good. I told myself that all the time. My eyes trained on the entrance and in came my other teammate. Uchiha Sasuke.

I could never forget the look on his face that day. I didn’t like to think about it, but when it did plague my thoughts, I imagined that’s the face he wore when his family was massacred. His eyes lost; wide and inky as they searched for a release for the barrier of tears hidden in them. And maybe it was the way his hands shook as he pulled the curtain back to enter that brought tears into my eyes. Maybe it was the way his breathing was quick and shallow – uncomposed and unusual to his stoic, nonchalant behavior. Or maybe, it was the whisper of my name on his lips. Sounding so distraught and dead that I couldn’t help but allow the tears to trickle down the curves of my cheeks.

“Sakura,” his voice was so raw, deep and scratchy as he called out to me. Hinata looked up, her eyes curious. His eyes darted over to her, then to her very pregnant belly. The pain in his eyes intensified if that were even possible.

My hands freeze their scanning over the woman’s body and I don’t even ask why he’s here, because I already know.

“Who?” My voice resonates out. I knew I spoke, but something about the apprehension in my voice led me to believe that it wasn’t me, but a clone. No one should be able to feel this empty while they were alive.

It was hard to watch the tears fall one by one down Sasuke’s cheeks before he finally choked out a name.

“Naruto.”

For a moment, I thought I heard wrong. That maybe I just zoned out and imagined his mouth moving. So I question him again, my heart thundering so loudly in my ears that I was worried I would miss his answer. But I didn’t. I heard him perfectly.

I shake my head, laughing humorlessly as I glare into the eyes of my dark haired teammate. “You’ve never been one for jokes, Sasuke.” I bite out, glancing over to Hinata who’s eyes were wide and full of unshead tears almost as if she, too, was waiting for Sasuke to laugh out loud. The tent went silent after I spoke, a silence so thick it got harder to breathe. Finally, Hinata let out a loud wail and wobbled off the bed, her grace gone as she rushed past me. I couldn’t find it in myself to prevent her from running out of the tent.

Sasuke and I stared at each other for a while before I numbly brushed past him, not able to spare him a second thought as I followed the sobs until I reached the source. A crowd around something – someone. I approached them, slow and unsteady when I walked through the parted crowd. I saw Hinata hunched over someone in the middle, her body quaking from her sobs as she held the person close. I continued to approach, my eyes trained on the body. My emotions were even and I felt nothing. Because this wasn’t my best friend. No, my best friend shouldn’t have been back until later. I felt nothing.

And then I saw that mess of unruly blonde hair. Then, his tanned, whisker clad cheeks. And then the top of his orange jumpsuit I hated so much. It was only then that I noticed the other half of my best friend was missing. I noticed the sickly sight of his blood, and the way his organs spilled over the dirty ground. That’s when I finally felt something.

A thunderous storm rolled over my heart, and I felt as if I was trapped in someone else’s body. Surely, this wasn’t right. This was a hoax – a genjustu. Yet, as the smell of acidic, bloody gore wafted into my nose, I knew then and there that this was real. This was life. My life. Our life. And I also knew then and there that without our beacon of light, this life we were forced to live in would come to a close very soon.

I didn’t really notice that Hinata stood before me, her eyes blazing and bloodshot from the fat tears that rained from those milky orbs. Her mouth was moving, speaking. However, I couldn’t hear anything but the static of my own despair. The heartwrenching white noise that plagued my mind into a sickness that could never be cured. She was desperate, and only then did I become aware of her aggressive shaking of my shoulders.

“Save him, Sakura!” Her throaty cry rattled my bones. I look past her to the resting face of my teammate and another chip of my heart falls out of place. There was nothing left for me to save. They mutilated my best friend. Humiliated him. Stripped him of all his honor – his dreams. 

Brushing past her, I approach him. My mind struggles to find the medic in myself, but when I finally get a grasp of her, I tug her out. That’s when I notice that the seal on his stomach wasn’t the Five Trigram seal like usual – it was different. Altered. I place my hand on his stomach, closing my eyes tight and forcing myself not to puke at how it caves in as I lightly put pressure on it. I plunge my chakra into the seal, activating it. His body… glitches for a millisecond before returning to normal. 

I stand up and look around at the crowd of shinobi, my eyebrows furrowing as I cut through the silence. “Where is Lord Fourth?” I bellow out, my voice harsh and cold, unable to get the sight of my best friend’s face from my mind. The area quiets, not taking in account a sniffle or two. Then, the low voice of my Uchiha teammate registers in my ears.

“He’s on the battle front. I’ll take you to him,” Sasuke mutters, his eyes somehow darker than the usual onyx they are. I can’t force myself to look at him and just shake my head.

“Just give me the coordinates; I’ll manage on my own.” I declare firmly, my voice still as hollow as my chest is. I glance at Hinata and then to her belly. I approached her and looked into her eyes, allowing my chakra to seep into her brain. I whisper soothingly to my sister-in-law, watching as her tired and distraught eyes slacken. “You’re sleepy, too sleepy to stand.” As the genjutsu controls her, her body slumps into my arms and I catch her easily, hoisting her in my hold. 

“Take her back to the tent. She will be out for a while.” I order, passing the Hyuga woman to my Uchiha teammate’s arms. I didn’t wait for another response before I flickered away, searching for the Fourth’s chakra signature.

...TBC

----

don't hate on me, im an avid sakura supporter :')

fun fact, this was meant to be a shisaku fic, but WTV.

xoxo,

ella nicole 💓

[danganranpadiva]

EVERYTHING ELSE | detective/bodyguard au

D. GRAYSON x f! reader

warnings: mature language, slight angst, slight make-out sesh

"I just don't understand you, Dick," I breathe out, my voice low but full of frustration. We were facing each other, but he wasn't looking at me. His attention was focused on the tiny screen in his hands, displaying footage of every corner in this hotel.

Which he spent all damn night hooking up.

"It's not your job to understand, baby." His words were a distracted rumble in his chest, and that only fuels my frustration towards him. Once again, blowing me off. Does he not take me seriously? Or was this nonchalant bullshit a part of his job description?

"I wasn't aware that this was just a job for you," I spit out, hands balled into fists at my sides. Finally, his deep blue eyes reach mine. I see a flicker of shock pass on his face moments after his eyes scanned my expression, followed quickly by a gentle look.

The corners of his lips curve up, the white of his teeth peeking through the pink of his lips as he attaches the screen to his belt.

My shoulders are still tense, and my glare is still sharp as he closes the distance between us in two long strides.

"It's my duty to make sure you're safe," He breathes out my name in a soothing manner, his hands finding themselves gently cupping my upper arms. The warmth of them sent a pleasant tingle down my spine. I understood what he was trying to say, but there was an itch in the back of my mind that forced the next sentence from my lips.

"Is that what I am? A duty?" I question softly, the bite in my voice whimpering down to a small whine. He was looking down at me, that sweet, gentle smile still carved on his lips. His gaze made me soften, my shoulders sagging as the tension was replaced with defeat and a hint of insecurity.

He didn't say anything for a moment, eyes wandering across my face like he was just discovering me. Mapping my features delicately, and I wonder for a moment if he is memorizing me.

"A duty, a friend," He pauses, one hand grazing higher on my skin until the palm of his hand was cupping my jaw. "A love." His thumb brushes my lower lip and my stomach flutters at the gesture, entranced by the tenderness behind it.

His neck cranes down, head tilting slightly to slot perfectly against mine, nose brushing the the apple of my cheek. His free hand flattens on my lower back, pulling me flush against his front. We were centimeters away, nearly touching, but not. I chase his lips subconsciously, eyes dilated and pointed on the pink pillows below his nose. He doesn't satisfy me yet, his thumb tugging my lower lip down once more as his low-lidded eyes stare intently into my own.

"My position as your protector is one I chose to fulfill, sweetheart." When he speaks, the warmth of his breath fans out on my cheek. My hands latch onto the bagginess of his t-shirt, trying to keep my wobbly knees from collapsing.

By this time, I can't even remember why he was talking and not shoving his tongue down my throat.

"And if you think I do this with everyone I have to protect-- you're wrong. Giving you my heart was the last thing I expected," he tilts my head up, our lips brushing every time he speaks. "But, in there, you will always be my woman first, and my everything else second."

I can't tell if he was finished or not, but that was probably because I yanked his head down and kissed him like my life depended on it. I feel him laugh into the kiss, his large hands sneaking down and cupping my backside greedily. Our lips slotted against each other sloppily, his tongue dragging against the roof of my mouth and the sensation draws a moan from my lungs. He swallows the sound eagerly, using his thumb to pull my chin down, opening my mouth more and tilting his head to delve deeper.

I feel arousal pool into my lower belly.

He pulls away from me, despite my whine of disapproval, and grins wide. My eyes flutter open, dazed as he looks down at me with that stupid, charming smile.

"I wonder what I said that made you get all hot and bothered? I'm gonna have to say it more often." He chuckles. I roll my eyes, wiping my lip gloss off of his lips.

"Dick."

"Are you trying to get my attention or insult me?"

"Both."

----

word count: 769

Cute little something!

xoxo,

ella nicole 💓

[danganranpadiva]

OUTLANDER | (teaser)

J. FRASER X BLACK! F! READER

“The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.” - Ida B. Wells

London, 1939

Curious, how strange it was to be treated like a nineteen-year-old stain.

I wonder often, is it the brown in my skin that offends them? Or the scientific fact that I am one of them? Half of me wishes I didn't care which it was, but it hangs heavily on my shoulders.

My father is a kind man. He really loved my mother, enough to give up his status in society to marry her. To raise me. His mixed daughter.

My mother passed away when I was three. I didn't realize then, I just thought she went to the market, or maybe she was planning a party for me. However, she never returned.

I can't quite picture her face anymore, no matter how hard I try to conjure it. It upset me the moment I realized that I had forgotten, but I can still remember her scent. Sweet chamomile and vanilla. I wear that fragrance everyday.

We didn't have a funeral. I know now that it was because her body was never recovered-- and we simply couldn't afford it. However, I can clearly remember my father's face as the detectives told him they were dropping the case.

It was much the same as watching a stone crumble from the lack of water. Dry, stiff, and utterly shattered.

Something in my father died that day too.

Inverness, 1943

Soft hums fill the air as a cold wind whistles through the trees and grass.

A wave of nausea sweeps up my throat, filling my lungs and suffocating me as I choke it back down. The hums become deafening, vibrating the marrow in my skull. A cold sweat spreads across my skin and my eyes widen and dart around, subconsciously searching for a place to escape.

My mind couldn't understand it, but the pure energy of this place was profound. It was something ancient. As devastating as it was beautiful.

The world spins, and I reach out to steady myself on the stone. Electrifying currents sweep through me, prickling at my nerves and paralyzing my body. My stomach curls around itself as everything becomes silent. I imagine this is what it would be like to have your lungs vacuum sealed, screaming but no sound escaping. Eventually, the light fades from my eyes, leaving nothing but a memory fleeing in the wind.

Just before my consciousness fully escapes me, my father's gruff voice echoes in the depths of my mind.

"Get to the stones, search for your mother."

----

Just a cute teaser for my little outlander story <3 Let me know if you want a three chapter update on monday!

xoxo,

ella nicole 💓

[danganranpadiva]

DC MASTERLIST

DICK GRAYSON: everything else

CLARK KENT:

DAMIAN WAYNE:

JASON TODD:

BRUCE WAYNE:

[danganranpadiva]

MASTERLIST

RULES:

You must be 18+ to request adult content. Unmarked bios will be ignored and restricted.

I mainly write x f!reader, but I am comfortable writing for lgbtq+ readers.

I will not write anything non-consensual or any abuse. If I feel there needs to be a trigger warning, that will be at the top of every chapter.

UNIVERSES I WRITE FOR:

DC

NARUTO

OUTLANDER

CALL OF DUTY

DANGANRONPA (THH & GD)

DEMON SLAYER

coming soon!

You can message me here to request <33

[danganranpadiva]

wow.

That Southern Hospitality

Pairing: Clark Kent X Reader

Words: 8056 (wow this got out of hand)

Warnings: Awkward encounters. Flannel. Forearms. Smut. Dirty talk. Some kinks that might not apply to you including but not limited to hickies, size difference, age gap, flannel shirts, and finally, cum play (if that’s what it’s called). I’m on my period and I’m horny so leave me alone. 

A/N: Listen I’m not sure what happened here. I was minding my own business one minute and the next thing I know, I’m writing this hella long fic because men in plaid shirts are the death of me (Adam Driver in Blackkklansman) but Clark Kent in a plaid shirt/flannel can rip me to pieces and I’d ask him if he could do it again. I know I have other stories to get to and finish, but I got the inspiration and motivation to write this and I decided it was better than not writing any fics at all. Enjoy this hell that is Henry Cavill inspired. This will be up on AO3 with gifs :) Let me know if my smut is still any good.

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