#and it filled me with so much anger because

[solarrue]

hii! i love ur writting <3

i wanna request genshin men (preferably with kazuha, tighnari, scaramouche/wanderer, xiao and others) and how they would treat a big wound the reader got while fighting or because something else, doesn't rlly matter. thank you!

Uhm, so I’m back after literally a year—whoops😅 I guess I just lost motivation to write, but NOW I’M BACK!! 🌸🌸

Genshin Men—Treating Your Wound

Characters: kazuha, tighnari, scaramouche/wanderer, xiao, neuvillette and il dottore x gn!reader

Warning(s): blood, wounds, cut by a sword etc. you get the gist :)

Kazuha

Kazuha was instantly worried the moment he saw you stumble while he was teaching you how to use a sword for self-defense. The fall resulted in a minor cut from the blade, enough to cause blood to drip steadily.

“You’re always so careless,” Kazuha said softly, as he carefully cleaned and wrapped the wound with bandages. Though his words were scolding, his tone remained gentle. “I really should keep a closer eye on you,” he added with a small smile. As he finished, he set everything aside and chuckled, his eyes meeting yours. “Looks like I’ll have to stay by your side forever, just to keep you safe,” he teased lightly.

Despite the situation, Kazuha’s calm demeanor reassured you. It was just another example of the tranquility he always seemed to carry with him.

Tighnari

After practically begging you to collect some herbs for his research, you caved and decided to help him out. You returned from your trip to the forest with a worrying wound on your knee, explaining that it was just because you fell over. Tighnari’s eyes filled with guilt as he immediately started looking for things to patch you up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have gone there all by yourself,” Tighnari said in a warm tone, carefully cleaning your wound. Even after you reassured him that it was okay, he remained concerned. “I should have gone with you,” he muttered, applying a herbal ointment and wrapping your knee in a bandage. “Next time, we’ll go together.”

As he finished, he looked up at you with a mixture of relief and lingering concern. “Please, be more careful. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”

Scaramouche/Wanderer

Scaramouche was never one to show much concern, his tough exterior often making it hard to decipher his true feelings. However, when he saw you stumble back home with a deep gash across your arm, his eyes widened with a mix of anger and worry.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, though his hands moved with surprising gentleness as he began to tend to your wound. His touch was meticulous, ensuring that the bandage was snug but not too tight.

“You can’t just run off like that and expect not to get hurt,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze as he focused on the task at hand. Despite his harsh words, the care he took in cleaning and dressing your wound spoke volumes. As he finished up, his tone softened slightly. “Next time, try not to be so reckless. I… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Xiao

Xiao was always distant, keeping his emotions at bay to protect himself and those around him. But when he found you slumped against a tree, a nasty cut on your leg from a recent battle, his usually stoic demeanor cracked.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” he asked, frustration evident in his voice as he knelt beside you. He immediately picked you up in his arms, teleporting you both back home to take care of your wound. “You need to be more careful,” he scolded, though there was a trace of worry in his tone. “I can’t always be there to protect you.”

Despite his harsh words, the way he stayed close until he was sure your wound was fully bandaged revealed the depth of his concern. “Don’t be so reckless next time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t bear to lose you.”

Neuvillette

Neuvillette always exuded an aura of wisdom and composure. When he saw you stumble into his domain with a grievous wound across your side, his serene expression shifted to one of grave concern.

“How did this happen?” he asked, his voice calm yet tinged with worry. Without waiting for an answer, he moved swiftly to your side, carefully cleaning and bandaging your wound with practiced precision. “You must be more cautious,” he admonished softly, his touch both firm and gentle. “I cannot always be there to protect you, but know that when you are in need, I will always come to your aid.”

When he finished, he sat back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Please, take better care of yourself,” he said, his voice softening. “For my heart cannot bear the thought of you in pain.”

Il Dottore

Il Dottore, the enigmatic and calculating Harbinger, was not known for being gentle or comforting. When you stumbled into his lab with a deep wound across your arm, his eyes lit up with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

“How intriguing,” he remarked, his tone cold yet fascinated as he quickly gathered his medical supplies. “You always manage to find trouble, don’t you?”

Without another word, he began to clean your wound with clinical precision, his touch efficient but not particularly gentle. Despite his detached demeanor, he ensured that the wound was thoroughly disinfected and expertly stitched up.“You must be more careful,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth but laced with a hint of genuine concern. “I have far too many experiments to conduct to waste time patching you up repeatedly.”

As he finished, he stepped back, his gaze appraising. “Consider this a lesson in prudence,” he added, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I won’t always be here to fix your mistakes.”

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 29. karma's a bitch

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. naoya's anger issues continue. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. mentions of physical violence. family drama.

word count: 3.2k

notes: my sixty-hour work weeks have been taking a huge toll on me, so i apologize for this incredibly slow update. the good news is that i cannot take this corporate america bullshit anymore and will resign in the next two months. thank you for being patient! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Naoya had never felt this humiliated in his entire life.

When people said karma was a bitch, he never thought that it would actually make its way back to him. While he was not the most righteous person in the world, he was the Zenin CEO, for god’s sake! He was the leader to a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, the heir of a centuries-old bloodline. 

Yet, here he was, charging back to his apartment like an irate animal.

He startled the lobby doormen upon his loud entry, and once he returned to his penthouse, he had to will every muscle in his body not to tear apart his abode in a rampage.

In his head, his encounter with Toji looped like a broken record, fueling his chagrin.

When Naoya sought to confront his cousin for the first time in months, he thought he had been prepared. He did not expect to end up digging himself into a deep hole surpassing the world's layers due to a judgment error—a slight miscalculation. 

Correction: this miscalculation was anything but 'slight' because he wildly underestimated what felt like everything. Now, he bore the consequences of his mistakes after inadvertently turning himself into a laughingstock. Because his ego was his hamartia, he had become a mere jester in a story where he was meant to be the sole hero, and thus his ill feelings burned hotter than the surface of the Sun.

As much as he hated to admit this, Naoya had been shortsighted. He should have known better. Just weeks ago, he saw a vision filled with saccharine promises of a happy, comfortable life as the most powerful man in Japan imbued with power and wealth. He had been confident—a hundred percent certain—that absolutely nothing could go wrong in the trajectory he worked hard to create. But, what the actual fuck just happened at the therapist's office?!

He did not expect his mistress to make a complete fool out of him. Her very existence was an anathema to him, and he hoped to never be in contact with that woman ever again. In hindsight, Naoya should have taken the hint a while ago. He had previously forgiven his cousin's ex-wife, dismissing her blissful but intentional ignorance. Mari had never been too keen on actual intellectual and corporate matters, for she took far more interest in the money and comfort that came with starting from the bottom and sleeping her way to the top. Despite that, Naoya trusted that she at least had half the mind to not publicly discuss their affair, only for him to be proven wrong in front of none other than...Toji Fushiguro.

"Fuck!" Naoya screamed into the void of his empty living room. His reality was a nightmare as he thought about his despised cousin again—the assured gleam in his viridescent eyes, the smug smirk that tugged across his lips. The imagery soured his mood beyond measure. "I'm going to fucking—"

He did not finish his sentence.

Instead, he kicked a nearby lamp in an angry bout, toppling the fixture over and sending tiny shards cascading across the floor accompanied by the dull thud of the shade. Whatever. His housekeeper tomorrow morning would come in and clean that. 

What he instead focused on was how he had never been this infuriated, this belittled, this undignified.

The entire apartment echoed with Naoya's loud huff.

'About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.' These words from Toji affected him more than he would have liked.

What did he mean?

That bastard is bluffing, the blonde had to tell himself, yet even he could not believe in his own consolation.

He needed to do something about this. 

No, no, Naoya wasn’t scared.

He couldn’t possibly be, right?!

Yet, after he could feel his ears begin to cool and breathing start to re-regulate, he stared at the emptiness in his halls as he came to the realization that had no better choice but to talk to you.

You didn't want to be here.

The moment you read Naoya Zenin's text to meet up for a 'quick chat' at the café near his office, you already knew that the upcoming conversation was going to be anything but 'quick.' The last thing you wished to do was to be in the same vicinity as that very man again.

After spending the last few days at your family residence, you had been showered with warm attention from aunts, uncles, cousins, and even house attendants who—despite naturally wondering the reason behind your stay—welcomed your visit with open arms. To your relatives' many inquiries, you forged a pretense that all was well even if all was not. (Besides, all did seem well in your family estate, away from the incessant pandemonium that was the Tokyo city center.)

While you knew that this peaceful break was not meant to last forever, you did not anticipate returning to the capital just to sit with the Zenin CEO alone.

Naoya had specifically chosen a corner table in the Hong Kong-inspired establishment, distanced from potential eavesdroppers. He seemed to have been waiting for a while by the time you arrived, his right leg crossed over his left knee as he twiddled with his thumbs impatiently. Sprawled on the table were a freshly brewed pot of jasmine tea and a platter of warm custard pastries.

He remained quiet as you took the seat across from him, observing with a crease on his forehead and a knit to his brows.

Anyone could tell that the blonde was not the least bit happy.

"Giving me dirty looks is not going to get this conversation anywhere," you pointed out while helping yourself to a tart.

From your comment, the inverted slope on Naoya's lips twisted into a deeper frown. 

He did not understand where your annoyance came from. 

Fine, he never treated you nicely either, but he did not expect you to snap at him when the discussion had hardly begun. You offered him no greetings, and Naoya also took great offense at how you chose not to look at him as you talked.

Truth be told, your neglect reminded him of all the other upsetting things that he was dying to bring up, and your unpleasant attitude whittled away the little restraint he had left.

“You didn’t try to ask where I’ve been. Not one text or call. Guess it would not have mattered to you if I disappeared, huh?" he lashed out through gritted teeth. He hated being forgotten, hated being looked over, and hated how easy it was for him to prove you to be a neglectful and apathetic wife.

Which was why there was no better option than to cut him off.

“You ordered me to leave you alone, Naoya.” Only slightly did you turn your head to glance at him. Stirring sugar into your tea, you kept your attention otherwise on the nearby window and watched businesspeople scurrying about on the streets on their lunch breaks. "You can live without my attention since I'm not the only woman you have around. What happened to your lady friend? Hasn't she been entertaining you long before our marriage? I am sure she would love your company, so why not pay her an impromptu visit?”

From a slanting angle, you could tell that the transformation from your normally calm demeanor dismayed him. Naoya, not you, was typically the one to make snide comebacks, but he could not deny your latest comments. Evidently, he wanted you to go back to your submissive and passive self, but that was precisely what you no longer could be for him.

His silence prompted you to reach into your purse and retrieve a thick manila envelope, and you presented the package on the table.

Naoya's gaze snapped to the parcel. 

He was curious, but cautiously so. He had invited you here, expecting to control the narrative, to dictate the terms. As a result, your unexpected move threw him off balance. 

"What...?"

“Take a look and find out for yourself.”

A puzzled Naoya demonstrated no hesitation.

He snatched the folder, tearing the top open and greedily grabbing the curated pieces inside. He stared for a long time at the first item: a photo. But he recognized the image of him and his mistress, boarding a private jet for their most recent trip to Mexico. Then, he flipped through the stack rapidly, barely registering each item before he turned to the next. Some were printed-out pictures and others were cutouts from news articles, but all featured him and his paramour. The confusion on Naoya's visage slowly morphed into aggravation, and when he finished his inspection, he forcefully threw the items back onto the table.

In the end, Naoya sat back and went still, not even blinking, thinking, or doing anything but pressing his tongue along his inner cheek. "How did you get these?"

No apologies. No remorse.

Hell, based on his response, the man could not even bother to deny your accusations, a telling sign of how little he could care for his relationship with you. Obviously, you must be a joke to him.

In one firm motion, you placed down your teacup.

"You're missing the point.”

While one's eyes may be the windows to the soul, Naoya's offered nothing in his current state. His pupils looked at—no, examined you in intense dark pools despite the iridescent glow from the lights above.

"Toji gave you these, didn't he?" Naoya continued with a disdainful laugh, himself insistent on getting answers to his own questions. "You can't find this shit on the internet anymore since I've had them all taken down. But Toji's fast. He has eyes everywhere, I know he does. Look at him. Months later, and he's still hung up on reclaiming a position he should've never had the right to in the first place!"

Thankfully, you didn’t flinch from his loud voice. What you did do was become more indifferent as if you were placing a wall to separate yourself from him, mentally bracing for his emotional maelstrom.

"You are missing the point," you said once more. This time, you shook your head in disappointment, and your tone was far more frustrated than the last. "Aren't you shameless?”

"Me? Shameless?!” His brows pinched closer from fury. "Take a look at yourself, woman! What did you do to get all this dirt from Toji and his henchmen, hm? Ha! Know what? I bet it’s because you're so willing to spread yourself for them,” he rambled with a nasty sneer plastered on his expression. At his comments, your jaw fell open before snapping shut as the meaning behind his words sank in. The way this man disregarded how he had an affair (that began many months ago!) only to redirect the spotlight onto you was repulsing, implying that the sole reason the therapists talked to you was that you had slept around. “A whore like you love taking all them all, don’t you? Well? Well? Am I right? Goddamn, you’re such a—”

The harsh scraping from your chair as you stood was what finally interrupted him. Unable to tolerate his vilification, you counteracted his anger with the venom in your rancorous glare. 

"How dare you talk about me like that!”

In the meantime, prying eyes started to turn in your direction from the commotion: teenage girls, sharing nervous glances across their table; a lone businessman, stopping mid-sip from his cappuccino; even the barista, pausing mid-grind such that her arm froze inches from the hopper.

"That man...doesn't he seem familiar?" a distant voice asked.

"Is he a celebrity or something?"

"No, wait. He's the person on the cover of last month's Fortune magazine. Naoya Zenin!" another replied.

"Isn't that lady his wife?"

While the onlookers' curious glances turned into full-on stares, their regard steeled your resolve rather than bothered you. Instead, you wanted the crowd to take in the spectacle. Corrupt tricks and dirty money had long painted the Zenin heir as 'the most perfect man in Japan,' and the public deserved to understand the fraudulence and cruelty that underlaid his facade.

"For months, I trusted you. I respected you. I put aside the harrowing loneliness weighing on my heart all because I tried to understand you. You told me that finding the time or energy for our marriage was not easy because board meetings kept you late in the office or business meetings required you to spend several nights abroad. Fine! So, I had been patient. But," and your voice overflowed from anger as you pointed a shaking finger at the pictures on the table, "Taking another woman to Michelin restaurants for dinners? Spending nights with her at Ritz-Carltons and Four Seasons? Going on entire vacations with her across the Pacific? All while you had a wife at home? Are you out of your fucking mind ?!" 

The man's nose flared with deep-seated rage, his eyes mirroring the same bitterness in yours. "At the end of the day," he began sternly, "we're still married."

Ridiculous.

“On paper, ” you had to clarify. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be cheating on me with your older cousin's ex-wife."

Immediately, louder murmurs rippled through the crowd. Naoya turned stiff, uncomfortable with the attention. So much for selecting a quiet corner in the café. He wasn’t stupid enough to sense that he had to be careful. Saying one wrong phrase would condemn him to a public meltdown. 

However, you were already steps ahead of him when you loudly declared: “I’m filing for a divorce.” 

That caught him off guard.

Your announcement even drew audible astonishment from bystanders as they stopped their meals, turning to each other and drawing out their phones.

In literal milliseconds, the vexation once riddling Naoya's demeanor shifted into denial.

“No. We’re not going to talk about a fucking divorce right now. We’re going to fix what we have, and you’re going to come back to me. We’re...We're married for a reason, and we’re going to keep with it!”

"That's a bullshit reason,” you had to snap. “Listen to yourself. Do you hear how selfish you sound!?" At this point, nothing could hide your bafflement. "Naoya, you were the one who said that if I wanted to leave this marriage badly, then I should leave. Ask Mai and Maki! They heard the entire conversation. Didn't you also say that you didn't give a fuck anymore?"

The man attempted to salvage some semblance of control. "I was just joking!"

"No, you were not." Picking up a photo of Naoya and Mari together, you pressed the picture to his face. “How much more can I take? How many days would I still have to go through alone in the penthouse, all because you would be spending your sweet time with the woman that you love?”

Unloading all this emotional baggage, not only for Naoya Zenin but also for the café spectators to hear, took courage. Previously, you would have let the burden gnaw at your soul. You would have rather wallowed in suffering rather than even think about speaking up.

But the past was the past, and you had grown immensely since then. Currently, you were stronger, more confident. You knew that, in Toji's words, you deserved better. Life was too beautiful to waste on a man who did not love or respect you and, with that in mind, you relaxed your clenched fists with an exhausted and fatigued sigh. 

You broke me first, you said through a deserted gaze. 

Naoya Zenin was the reason why you had become the way you were: a cold, seemingly heartless wife who cared none for her husband. The misery that he placed on your shoulders finally reached its limit, and while you could forgive, forgetting the memories in your scarred heart would be a task over months, years, and even a lifetime. 

“Listen,” you began, tone terse, “this divorce will set you free. Mari is the person whom you need—”

“The hell. No!” the man interrupted in a violent outburst, taking your breath away as he slammed the table and hissed. “I don't give a damn about her right now! We’re…We’re over!" he snarled with incredible anger such that he almost appeared to growl. "I don’t need her, I need you! That...That whore doesn't give a flying fuck about my shit! All she cares about is...is...Fuck this. All she wants is the money. Why else do you think she married and then later divorced Toji? She doesn't want to hear about all the shit in my family because she had not been brought up to deal with all the fuckin' drama in my household. She can't understand because, unlike you, she wasn't born with a silver spoon shoved down her goddamn throat!"

Quietly, you absorbed his words, stunned.

So this was how their relationship had been.

You had not expected him to reveal all these entrenched feelings willingly, but his concoction between reckless rage and sheer desperation had allowed him to spill the ugly side of this extramarital affair. Naoya could not afford to lose you, and not just because this marriage solidified the respect of those around him. While Mari offered him an outlet for physical indulgence, only you could offer the cornerstone to Naoya's mental and social fortitude.

“So you ‘need’ me now, but what happens when you find another reason to hate me again? What will you do if you don’t think I can fulfill the role you want me to have as your partner? Or if you wake up one day and suddenly want your cousin’s ex-wife again? Or if you meet another woman? Am I supposed to stand there again, and watch this all happen?" 

No answer.

The fact that he couldn't respond hurt.

"My decision is final. Looking back, I despised every single second married to you. In fact, I feel sorry for myself. The fact that I blindly put up with your manipulation, betrayal, and blame for all these months.” With your belongings collected, you prepared to leave. “You would be stupid to think you're the only one with options, you know.”

Only when you turned around did Naoya react, scrambling to his feet.

“What the fuck are you—”

In any other situation, he would have grabbed you, lunged at you, did everything in his power to stop you from going. Yet, given all the witnesses, all he could do was call you back like a helpless child, trying his best to not escalate the scene (although, at this point, even passerbys outside have stopped by the window to spectate).

"Hey!" Naoya called after you. “Hey! I’m still talking with you!”

Pathetic, really, to see him desperately beg for you to stay in his life.

There was a certain satisfaction in finally having the control at your fingertips. The feeling was empowering—electrifying, even—and you became so focused on the gratification that you barely registered Naoya's last question.

“Where are you going?”

At this point, you already stood by the exit.

“That’s not something that my soon-to-be ex-husband would need to know,” and you hardly gave him another glance as the door closed behind you. “Thank you for showing me everything I hope to never find in another man again."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Part of why this update took so long was because I wanted to have an encounter between Naoya and Y/N to showcase Y/N’s development, from someone who thoughtlessly defended her husband to someone who could stand up for herself (all while alone!). I envisioned this interaction many times, and I thought about different ways to approach the scene, the delivery, the dialogue, the choreography, etc. It took me a while to go for what I currently have. Thank you for reading!

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[roxiezsxx]

Intoxicating

Joost x reader Cw: toxic? established relationship, smut During Albino era!! 1,606 Words | 9,191 Characters

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dusty streets of their small town. Joost sat on the sofa of their wooden house, his fingers drumming an erratic rhythm on the armrest. In the next room over, the faint sounds of dishes being stacked clashed with the tense silence that hung in the air like a suffocating blanket.

Reader emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, her face set in a tight, weary expression. She glanced at Joost but said nothing, the unspoken words between them thicker than the humid evening air.

"You gonna sit there all night?" Joost's voice broke the silence, rough and edged with irritation.

"Maybe I will," Reader shot back, tossing the towel onto the counter. "At least out here, I can breathe."

Joost's jaw clenched. "Don't start with me, Reader. Not tonight."

"Why not tonight?" Reader's voice rose, sharp and brittle. "What makes tonight any different from the others? You're always looking for a fight. It's all you ever want to fucking do." She snapped, her eyes narrowing at Joost.

Joost stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. "Maybe because you never stop pushing! Every little thing turns into a war with you."

Reader's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm pushing? You're the one who made out with a girl for a music video—then got mad when I didn't like it!"

Joost's shoulders sagged slightly, the fight draining out of him. "Just shut up. You're such a bitch sometimes." He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes as his hands crossed over his chest, a scoff escaping his lips.

"Bitch," Reader repeated, her voice losing its edge but gaining in raw fury. "I'm a bitch? I think the fuck not! All you do in your songs is talk about how you bag women, but you can't even get me in bed with you lately. Don't fucking chat to me." Reader spat, slamming her fist on the counter.

Joost's eyes narrowed, anger flashing in his gaze. "Maybe you're just a stuck-up skank who can't be bothered looking sexually pleasing lately."

Reader let out a scream of frustration. "Why the fuck would I want to fuck you when all you do is go fucking clubbing?"

"I'm going for a smoke. I fucking can't be assed with you." He spat, storming out of the house, taking his lighter and cigarettes out with him.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Reader standing in the kitchen, her hands trembling with rage and despair. She stared at the closed door, the remnants of their latest argument echoing in her ears. As the night deepened, she wondered how much longer they could keep tearing each other apart before nothing was left.

Joost leaned against the porch railing, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. The first drag did little to calm his nerves. He glanced back at the house, where Reader’s silhouette was barely visible through the window.

The gulf between them seemed insurmountable, filled with sharp words and broken promises. The toxic cycle they were trapped in showed no signs of ending, each fight more brutal than the last. Joost exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night.

Something had to change, but neither of them knew how to take the first step. He flicked the cigarette butt into the dirt, grinding it under his heel as if he could crush their problems as easily. He knew it wasn't that simple.

Joost took a deep breath, letting the night air cool his heated thoughts. He had loved Reader once, truly and deeply, and somewhere under the layers of anger and hurt, he believed that love still existed. But it had been so long since they'd seen eye to eye, since they'd even tried to understand each other.

Inside, Reader sank into a chair, her mind racing with memories of better days. Days when Joost's touch was gentle, when his words were kind. She missed those days, but she wasn't sure if they could ever get back to them. Joost began to walk back into the house, sitting where he had before the argument broke out.

Both sat in their separate silences, the night stretching long before them.

Joost voice was the first to break the silence, "We cant keep doing this, Reader." He spoke, looking away from her, his arm resting on the arm rest of the sofa.

"No shit." Reader spoke, brows furrowing as she tried to move away from Joost, his hand gripped her thigh- telling her to stay, which she did.

His face looked over at her, looking down at her

"I'll apologize if you do." He spoke, raising a brow

"Piss off, I have nothing to apologize for!" Reader spat, pulling away from him but joost's grip only tightened.

"Fuck- whatever then. I'm not apologizing, whore." He replied snarkly. His eyes narrowed down at Reader.

"Who the fuck are you calling a whore!" Reader snapped, getting ontop of him- hovering over Joost's lap.

A smirked etched upon Joost's lips, his eyes going from her angered expression all the way down to were they were oh so close to connecting too. Joost's hands found their way on Reader's hips.

Reader groaned, trying to get up. Nothing but a yelp came from their mouth as Joost tightened his grip on her hips, slamming her down on his lap.

"Joost, what the fuck!" Reader spat, brows furrowing as she stare down at Joost whom had a pathetic look on his face, it was a half assed smirk at best. "Fucking pervert"

"Mm, you love this fucking pervert though, dont you sugar tits." Joost grinned, his eyes looking Reader's body up and down a smirk etched upon his lips.

"Shut up.." Reader trailed off as Joost's head found its way into the crook of her neck, kissing it so slowly

"Gonna fuck you so good baby.." Joost groaned, kissing and sucking at her neck, biting it occasionally aswell, a grin could be felt on your neck as he licked it teasingly before going back to sucking it.

"Better be." Reader groaned, her arms wrapping around Joost's neck, her fingers finding their way into his hair.

Joost then pulled away, his lip' crashing onto reader's the kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated yet passionate and sexual at the same time.

Their kiss grew more intense, desperation mingling with the raw passion. Joost’s hands roamed up and down Reader’s back, pulling her closer as if trying to bridge the emotional gap that had been widening between them. The heat of the moment overtook the simmering anger that had dominated their interactions for so long.

Reader's fingers tangled in Joost's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. She could feel the pent-up frustration and longing in every touch, every movement. It was as if they were both trying to erase the hurt and disappointment of the past months through sheer physical closeness.

Joost’s hands slid under Reader’s shirt, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She arched into him, her body responding to his in a way that words had failed to do. Their breaths mingled, hot and heavy, filling the space between them with an electric tension.

"God, I’ve missed this," Joost murmured against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. "Missed you."

Reader paused for a moment, looking into Joost’s eyes. She saw the vulnerability there, the remnants of the man she had fallen in love with. It made her heart ache, but it also gave her a glimmer of hope.

"Then show me," she whispered back, her voice soft but laced with determination. "Show me you still care."

Joost responded with a fervor that took her breath away, his kisses growing more demanding. He stood up, lifting Reader with him, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. They stumbled towards the bedroom, their need for each other overpowering everything else.

Inside the dimly lit room, Joost laid Reader gently on the bed, hovering over her for a moment as if savoring the sight of her. He leaned down, capturing her lips once more, his hands exploring her body with a renewed sense of urgency and reverence.

Clothes were discarded hastily, their need for each other outpacing any sense of decorum. When they were finally skin to skin, Joost paused, looking down at Reader with a mixture of awe and tenderness.

Joost slid his cock slowly into Reader's pussy, a gutteral moan escaping his lips, Reader arched her back her moan loud and whiny, the sound sounds the two were making were filthy and disgusting.

"Fuck Joost.." Reader Moaned, her eyes glistening over as Joost thrusted in and out of her.

"fucking hell, Mijn leifje, so fucking tight Hm..?"

Joost groaned, his hips slapping against hers at an animalistic speed it was dirty and sickening but to the two, it felt angelic

"Like getting dumb on my cock, hm? fucking love it dont you." Joost spat, one of his hands gripping one of Readers cheeks, leaning down and kissing them with such feverent hunger. His other hand toyed at her clit- pinching it and played with it.

Reader whined at the feeling of Joost touching her in such ways, needy please of release strung out of her, her lips colliding with his as her nails clawed at his back from the pleasure

"M' close Joost.." Reader groaned, pulling away from the kiss, her eyes glazed over from pleasure.

"Course, you are. Come on then, Cum on my cock- make it look all pretty Ja?" Joost spoke, his voice low as he spoke into Reader's ear, his thrusts never faltering.

[ebodebo]

summary: jason todd "red hood" is on the hunt for the director and his accomplice, blueprint, gotham's most notourious art theives.

pairing: jason todd "red hood" x art thief "blueprint!" reader

a/n: HELLO let me start by saying that ik the director is already a thing, so i'm not claiming to have come up with the name! i just thought it fit well with this character. also, jason might be a little ooc, BUT it's okay bc he's still eating. ALSO i'm pretty new to the fandom, so plz go easy on me if i missed some details, or if it's not completely accurate. i tried my best. with that said, i hope you all enjoy!

word count: 2.5k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

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Chasing The Mask

A heavy dew settles over the city, along with a light fall of freezing rain. It would almost be calming if you didn't know it was Gotham. One of the most crime-ridden cities in the world. Full of crooks and villains alike. 

Among the haze of rain and sleet, a vigilante sits perched on the top of one of the city's most renowned museums, The Metropolitan. The Red Hood, so he calls himself. While most nights he goes out into the night by himself, to his dismay, tonight he is accompanied by his heroine brother, Nightwing.

The Metropolitan is filled with some of the most exquisite pieces of art made by some highly famed artists, from Van Gogh to Basquiet. It is home to a most priceless collection, indeed. 

Of course, with such valuable pieces, the museum has been the target of numerous theft attempts, and tonight is no exception. 

"You didn't have to come," Red Hood snarkily says as he leans against the red brick encasing the rooftop exit door. 

"Just trynna' help out." The honesty in his voice makes Red Hood roll his eyes. He doesn't necessarily hate Nightwing but he thinks he's too smug for his own good. An entitled, know-it-all. But they are brothers, after all. So, there is a sense of undeniable care there. 

"I've got it taken care of." Red Hood counters, crossing his arms. His tone is almost defensive. Does Nightwing believe he can't catch a simple art thief? Like he's some kind of amateur?

"Is that right?" Nightwing questions, crossing his arms, too.

"Yes." Defensive, again. 

"Because, last time I checked, The Director and Blueprint are still running around Gotham." Nightwing accused. 

"Way to state the obvious, Dick." Red Hood enunciated his name. Dick was used to Hood using his name as a homonym, often. 

"I'm waiting." Hood finally answered his question after the insult. Nightwing let out a light laugh. "For what exactly?" He pushes, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the brick wall Hood was leaning on. 

"An opportunity," Hood stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Jesus Christ, Jason." Nightwing pulled his hand up to wipe across his face, which was covered by a simple black domino mask. 

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come, Dick." Hood sighed deeply. "Talk too much." He finished, uncrossing his arms.

"Sorry, I have-" Nightwing started, but Hood quickly interrupted.

"Wait, shut up," Hood stated, putting his pointer finger in the air.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Nightwing exhales, anger simmering off his body. 

"Dick, I'm serious," Hood says, turning his head to look around the roof. "You hear that?" He questions.

"Hear wha-?"

"Boys." Hood and Nightwing quickly turn to see Blueprint emerging behind the bricked rooftop door they were leaning on. 

"Blueprint," they simultaneously say. "What are you two doing here?" you ask, tilting your head. Nightwing is quick to respond. "We could ask you the same thing."

"A woman never reveals her secrets." You chirp, pointing your finger at both of them. You walk closer to them, smiling. "It's actually good to see you both." 

"Wish we could say the same." Hood finally speaks. His words are gruff and gray. You rapidly turn your head towards him. It felt weird seeing him like this. Not even thirty minutes ago, you were lying in the sanctity of his warm, cozy bed in a post-orgasmic haze. It wasn't like you and him were dating, but you had met his family and shared a specific intimacy that wasn't common to either of you. 

It was a complicated situation. You knew he was Red Hood, but he had no idea you were Blueprint. You liked him, sure, but this was strictly business. There were no feelings involved. 

"Blue?" Hood questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

You shake your head, absolving you of your thoughts. "Would love to stay and chat, boys, but I have some paintings to tend to." Thanks to The Director, you swivel on your heel to head toward the rooftop exit door that's been propped open. 

"That won't be happening today," Nightwing spoke, pulling out his slick-black Escrima Sticks. 

You let out a smug laugh. "And I suppose you two are going to stop me?" You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head. 

"That's the plan," Hood said, pulling out his weaponry, which was tucked nicely in his jacket. 

You gave a nice, wide smile before pressing the button on the small metal capsule of a lead-lined smoke grenade that had been concealed in your hand, throwing it in front of them, unleashing a cloud of smoke that covered your being as you made your getaway.

"Bye-bye, batboys." You yelled to them as you sprinted to the ajar exit door and entered the museum's stairwell.

"Fuck." Hood says through coughs as the smoke forces its way deep into his lungs. Even with smoke filling his lungs, he's still quick to spring into action, following you inside the museum, with Nightwing following hot on his trail, coughing as well.

You flew down the steps. Skipping three, even four, steps at of time. When you turned around after you got inside, they weren't even behind you, still coughing and heaving on the smoke. It was a damn shame Jason was so tall because once you scaled the second staircase, you turned to see Jason beginning the second one. Your eyes widened under your mask at how swift he was. You turned and continued sprinting as fast as your legs could go.

You could faintly hear Hood and Nightwing yell at you to stop, but you pursued down the flights downstairs, reaching the last set of stairs. 

You scrambled up as Hood came unexpectedly close and almost grabbed your arm, but you managed to escape his grasp, holding the handle of the main door and slipping inside, slamming it in his face. You breathed a sigh of relief as your legs carried you over to where The Director AKA your dad was standing, holding an authentic Da Vinci portrait. 

"Nice job, Blue." Your dad remarked, referring to the diversion you created with the bats so he could slyly take the precious art without them interfering. Though slamming the door did make an excellent barrier, you had forgotten to arm the system back, so Hood and Nightwing forcefully pushed the door open. 

"You didn't arm the door system back?" Your dad hissed, looking down at you.

"I-shit." You cursed, turning to see Hood and Nightwing standing only a few feet from where you and your dad stood. 

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Nightwing cockily questions, stretching his arms down with his sticks in each hand. 

The Director let out a deep, guttural laugh, causing you to spin your head to face him. "Don't you see? I already have," he declared, showing the painting in his hand.

"We could still take you out." Hood points out, his eyes on The Director, as his hand slides to reach for a gadget on his signature utility belt. Though, he couldn't feel anything. Did he seriously forget to bring it?

"How are you going to do that, Hood?" The Director challenged. "Don't have that shiny belt on, do you?" He questioned, gesturing to his waist.

Hood glanced at Nightwing. "You forgot your belt?" Nightwing questioned, disbelief coating his voice.

"I could have sworn-" Hood says before shaking the rest of the sentence off. "Whatever. I don't need it." He assures, assuming a fighting position.

It was honestly true. Hood was an incredible fighter. Watching him fight was astonishing. He could move his body in ways you didn't even know were humanly possible. But, you did not want to fight him. You just wanted to appease your father by helping obtain the painting, so you could all get the hell out of there.

"Get them." Your father demanded, looking down at you. You hesitated, looking up at your father. "Did you hear me? Get them." His words came out harsher than the first, showing his agitation. 

"Come on, Blue, we won't go that hard on you." Hood snarkily remarked, and you reached for his belt wrapped around your waist. You felt a weird sense of guilt as you covertly pulled out a Batarang.

"You just gonna stand there or-" Hood starts but is interrupted by the Batarang swinging right near the side of his head. 

"I actually think I'd like to play, Red." You mischievously say, running towards Nightwing, catching him a little off guard, and extending your leg to kick him in the stomach, pushing him back, as he holds his stomach.

"Come on, Red. I won't bite." You say, making your way over to him while Nightwing is still down. You let out a powerful punch, but he's quick to move his head to the side, dodging it. 

"Actually, I think you might." He says, grabbing your extended arm and twisting it so your body turns in the other direction. 

Nightwing makes his way up. "Well, that was easier than expected." He said, wiping his hands together.

"Because I did all of the work." Hood chimed, still with your arm twisted behind your back. Their banter made for a good distraction so that you could reach into the utility belt Jason mistakenly left at your house and grabbed a stun gun. 

You turned quickly, letting go of contact with him, as Hood talked, and pressed the tazer to his forearm. Although clothed, the powerful current still hit his skin, making him drop to the floor, convulsing.

"Wanna have some fun, Grayson?" You sarcastically ask as you step closer to him. He swings his sticks in front of him in a criss-crossed pattern. 

You take his silence as an answer. "I knew you were always the boring one." You sigh, holding up the stun gun.

"That's a bat-belt." Nightwing states casually, looking over at Hood, whose body is hunched over on the ground, still convulsing. 

"Aren't you just a genius? You sneered, carefully watching him. 

"How the hell did you get bat-belt?" Nightwing gruffly questions, eyeing your hand with the stun gun. You narrow your eyes at him. "Like I said before, a woman never reveals her secrets." You quickly move towards him, though he's not so off guard. Not like Hood was. 

However, unlike a taser, a stun gun does not shoot any projectiles, and it has to be held against a body or skin to do any damage. Nightwing was standing a few feet from you so the stun gun would do you no good. 

But, you don't even get a chance to use it because he's quick to knock the stun gun out of your hand and uses his stick to hit across the museum, a ways from any of you. 

"Ah, I get it," Nightwing says, letting his sticks rest on his side. You tilt your head to the side. "Get what?" You shouldn't be indulging him. You should be kicking his ass, but with Hood down, Nightwing wasn't going to be so much work. Plus, in between fighting them, your dad had slipped away, leaving you to do the damage control. 

"You got it from Jason, right? Well, stole." He dragged out the last word. 

"It's not really stealing if he leaves it in my apartment. Is it?" You retort smugly.

"Of course he did." As he finishes his sentence, you realize you two have been talking for a while. Well, in hindsight, in normal conversation, no, but this is supposed to be a fight, not a catch-up. Wait, I haven't heard Hood? Upon this epiphany, you turn to see an empty spot where Hood laid.

"Where-where did he go?" You stutter, deciphering when he could have left and how you didn't hear him.

"Oh, Jason?" Nightwing starts. "He left a while ago—once you turned around, actually." He coolly says this, sliding his sticks back on through the straps on the back of his suit.

This was a diversion, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. Shit, your dad is going to be so pis-

"Got em'," You hear Hood's voice echo off the walls as he walks in with your father, ropes tied around his hands and ankles, painting in hand. He handed him off to Nightwing as he placed the art back in its place.

You and Hood watched as Nightwing dragged him through the exit door you all came in through.

"So, heard you stole from me?" Hood tuts, shifting closer to you. 

"Like I said to your brother, it's not stealing if you leave it in my apartment." You retaliate, your throat drying as he moves closer.

"It's still mine." He's now standing right in front of you. You feel flustered at the proximity but cannot let it show. He would never let you live it down. 

"And I want it back," he casually says, his hands ghosting over your waist, housing the belt in question.

You look straight up at him. "Take it then." You swear you could hear him inhale deeply at your suggestive words, but you don't ask. 

His hands wander to the belt, hanging a little low on you. You swear he holds his fingers on the front part just to tease you, and if that was the goal, fuck, did he succeed. But you wouldn't tell him that. His ego is already huge. His fingers leave the front portion of the belt and continue dragging slowly along the sides until he reaches the back to unclasp it, and pull it off of you.

Once he steps back, you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "I would leave now." He suggests, wrapping the belt around his own waist. "You know, before the police get here."

"Okay." You felt like he had just put you under a spell. You are willingly agreeing with him. He can sense this, too, and smirks under his mask at your cooperation. 

"Night, Blue." He says as he turns to the rooftop top exit door, pushing it slightly.

"Goodnight, Red." You say, releasing a sigh of relief once he steps outside the door.

"Oh my God." You say to yourself. "That was-" You pause, taking a deep breath. "Do I like Red Hood?" You question, thinking. "No. Definitely not. It was nothing." You lie to yourself. You had only ever slept with the guy, so it just had to be the undeniable sexual tension between you two. That’s all. Right?

You thank God when you push open the rooftop door that Hood isn't hovering behind the door, listening to you essentially try to deny, and fail, expressing your feelings for him.

It is so nice for Hood that stairwells offer a safe place during storms, but they also offer space for a secret spot, just like the one Hood implemented into the walls of The Metropoliton some years ago.

He used to hide from criminals chasing him through the museum, which happened quite frequently, but now he was using it to simply make sure you left okay. But who knew it would double as a way to hear about your secret love confession? Certainly not him. 

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taglist: @artemis-b-writes @sceletaflores @yuenity @starsofang

[hanniebaeee]

Crazy for you - Part 1

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warning: swearing, drinking, kissing, some touching MDNI

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

Summary: You and your best friend's cousin, Hyunjin don't get along very well. This game of cat and mouse may be a disguise to hide your real feelings.

a/n: Everyone in the story is so petty! I wrote this ages ago, partly based on a dream I had😅 It's silly, but here you go 🤝 (also this series will have smut in the future, just letting you know.)

You sigh impatiently, trying your best not to cry. The day couldn't get any more worse. All you could think of was the anger and hate on his mother's face. Her harsh words were like daggers to your chest. And on top of that, you were smashed against him right now, your bodies pressed together way too much for your liking.

'Jennie!! Make it FASTER!' You said to your best friend who was driving.

'I'm going as fast as I can, Y/N' Jennie said apologetically. 'Just hang on.'

'She's hanging on alright' Hyunjin said sarcastically,  and your blood boiled at that.

Hwang Hyunjin, your arch nemesis, was Jennie's cousin. You all were part of the same friends group since childhood and so, you were willingly or not, always around each other.

'It's not like I have a choice now, do I?!' You spat,  putting a hand against his chest and pushing him away.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, there's not use pushing me.' Hyunjin said, glancing behind him.

Jeongin, Jisung and Minho lay drunk and asleep, all crammed together at the back of Jennie's car along with you and Hyunjin. Jennie's boyfriend Changbin was asleep in the passenger seat beside Jennie.

'It was so indecent of your mum to talk like that, Jinnie. And you didn't have anything to say?' Jennie asked, addressing the elephant in the room. 'When did Y/N ever try to seduce you? I mean you're at each other's throats ALL THE FUCKING TIME!'

'You think my mom would stop if I say so?' Hyunjin asked with a scoff. 'She's crazy. She would just insult her more.'

'She humiliated my best friend in front if everyone.' Jennie said. 'That's not OK'

You sigh again, turning your face away from Hyunjin. His mother hated you for some reason. You felt that most of it had to do with the fact that you weren't Korean and she was afraid of what people might say if he brought home a foreigner. And part of it was because she knew that there were things you both were hiding.

'Well, it can't be completely wrong. Mum must have seen something.' Hyunjin said teasingly.

'Hyunjin, you're on my LAST fucking nerve. Better stop right there.' You warn him, blinking fast to keep your tears from falling.

'Or what?' Hyunjin asked, moving closer just to piss you off.

He was so close, your chests were literally pressed together. Your hand was on his chest again, putting a gap between you two. You give him your best death glare and pinch his tummy so hard that Hyunjin screamed in pain.

'What the fuck?!' Jennie yelled as Changbin woke up with a start and stuffed his fingers into his ears.

'She pinched me!' Hyunjin said in shock. 'Oh God it hurts!'

'Serves you right for being an asshole, Hyunjin.' Jennie said, shaking her head.

You glare at him with tear filled eyes.

'I don't know if you are really that drunk or not, but YOU are the one who can't keep your hands to yourself, Hyunjin. Not the other way around. Tell your mummy that when both of you are in your right minds.' you hiss.

Hyunjin just smirked, biting his lip sensually.

'I love it when your so feisty.' he whispered, his hand slipping down to your thigh, and moving up under your dress. You grip at his hand to stop him.

'Please!!' You sob softly, the tears finally falling. Hyunjin moves his hand away quickly, a look of guilt and sadness clouding his handsome face.

'Y/N' he says, his hand coming up to your face, but you turn away. 'I was only joking.'

Jennie hit the brakes.

'What the fuck, Hyunjin?! Leave her alone!' she shrieks. 'It'll be easier to watch babies, I swear!'

'Let me out! I'd rather walk than sit here with your brother!' You yell, voice shaking.

Hyunjin just sighed and sat back, sulking. He didn't want you to leave. He quite liked being stuck to you. Jennie banged her hand on the steering wheel in frustration and said, 'Binnie, get your ass back there!  Come on to the front, Y/N.'

'Ew, no way! He's covered in puke!' Hyunjin whined. Which was why no one wanted to sit with him.

'Not my fucking problem, Hyunjin. Another word from you and I'm done' Jennie warned.

After exchanging seats, the remaining ride home was in silence. Hyunjin's eyes were fixed on you and his heart sank, watching you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes.

He genuinely felt bad for what his mother had said. And he did confront her away from the crowd. He knew that his mother went out of her way to separate the two of you right from when you were at school. You never did anything to seduce him. Knowing his mother's dislike for you, you had always kept away from him. It was the hardest thing for Hyunjin. He loved you even without any kind of effort from your side.

The tension existing between you two wasn't a secret. Everyone knew that this wasn't just some stupid rivalry. There was so much more going on. But no one said anything because some things are better left alone.

You reached the apartment building and the boys helped their drunk friends to their feet. As Jennie went on to park the car, Hyunjin caught hold of your hand, as you tried to slip away.

'Look. I'm sorry for what mum said. I didn't pick a fight only because she can be real pain. I didn't want to provoke her, Y/N. She would've just insulted you more.' Hyunjin said. 'I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you.'

'It's alright.' You said with a nod. 'I know.'

Hyunjin nodded and watched you leave in silence.

You and Jennie shared an apartment and the boys, another, on two different floors. But you always met for your meals, mostly at the boys' apartment. The next morning, when you woke up, Jennie had already gone to Hyunjin's to cook breakfast.

After a quick shower, you joined her. As you passed Hyunjin's room, you saw the door was open, and he was sprawled on his bed in his pyjamas, still asleep. His shirt was pushed up, exposing his tummy. A purplish bruise had formed where you had pinched him the other day. You didn't mean to do it so hard, and now felt bad about it.

After watching him snore softly for a moment, looking so innocent and angelic, you walk away. You enter the kitchen to find Jennie pouring coffee into mugs.

'Can you please take this to Jinnie and wake him up?' Jennie asked as she returned to cooking. The bacon that she was frying looked way too burnt at this point.

'Not a good idea. Not this early in the morning' You said, shaking your head no and nibbling on a piece of the burnt bacon.

'Please sweetheart.' Jennie said pouting, and you sigh.

'I know what you are doing Jennie Kim.' You said in a sing song manner.

Jennie just gives you an innocent look as you pick up the mug and walk to Hyunjin's room. Placing it on his bedside table, you touch his arm to wake him up.

'Hey.' You call softly. 'Wake up, Hyunjinnie!'

You pause as you cringe at the way you said that. But he opened his eyes slowly and seeing you, he sat up, smiling.

'Am I dreaming?' he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

'Ok. Come on, up.' You said, trying to distract yourself from the way he is looking at you. 'Jennie asked me to wake you up.'

He nods with a sigh, taking the mug in his hands. You begin to walk out when he stops you.

'Are we good, Y/N? ' he asked.

You turn to look at him with a frown, but end up nodding quickly and escaping the room and his puppy eyes.

Jeongin, Minho and Jisung were awake and terribly hungover. Jennie shot them all looks of disgust as she brought breakfast to the table.

'Stop looking at me like that!' Minho whined. 'People make mistakes sometimes!!'

'Lino, you puked all night, do you remember?' Jennie asked, with her arms on her hips.

'Of course I know, I'm the one who nearly puked my intestines out!' Minho said, resting his head on his hand. 'I'm sorry!'

Jennie sighed and said, 'Innie?'

'To both my noonas, I'm really sorry I got carried away!' he said raising his hands in surrender. 'Sorry!'

'I'm not even starting with you Hannie.' Jennie said. You giggle, loving how Jennie managed to make three men shiver under her glare. Jisung pouted, sipping on his lemon tea.

'And Hyunjin.' Jennie said sarcastically. 'You don't even have to be drunk to be a pain in the ass.'

He grinned showcasing all his teeth, his eyes two crescent moons.

'i try my best.' He said, winking at you, and you roll your eyes at him.

'Honestly, Jinnie, if you can't keep you hands to yourself, why don't you just ask her out?!' Jennie snapped at her cousin.

'Jennie!!' You hiss, poking her on the rib.

'I'm sick of you both always bickering like some old married couple! it's so damn annoying!' Jennie said. 'Just give each other a chance at least!'

'It won't work!' You said, shaking your head. 'Jennie, stop.'

Jennie knew of your feelings for Hyunjin and she really wished that you would just get together, since she knew her cousin felt the same.

'I want you both to try.' Jennie said. 'I'm tried of seeing you both eye fucking each other every time you're in the same room. It's disgusting.'

'I don't deny it.' Hyunjin said confidently.

'Oh my God!' You cry. 'Why is your family set on humiliting me all the fucking time!?'

'You're my best friend and he's my brother. I need you both to get along. I'm so sick of your constant disagreements. I want you to try dating. It could seriously work out.' Jennie pressed on.

'I agree with Jennie Noona' Jeongin said.

'You guys can always stop if you want.' Jisung offered, while Minho was too hungover to make a meaningful comment.

'Hyunjin.' You plead.

'I'm ready if she's ready.' Hyunjin said with a shrug.

Jennie grinned, knowing her cousin's deep dark desires. She turned to you with hopeful eyes.

'Your mother is going to throw a fit about it.' You warned Hyunjin. 'You know that! She'll never allow it!'

'Who cares about what his mom thinks?' Jennie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. 'We know that you both like each other. This is about you. Not us or anyone else.'

'I decide what I do with my life, Y/N. Not mum.' Hyunjin said, seriously. 'You don't have to worry about her.'

'You can say no, you know.' Jennie challenged you, with a smug look. 'No one's stopping you.'

You shrivel at her words. Of course, no one was going to stop you if you say no and walk out. But this is what you really wanted. You've wanted Hyunjin all your life. You were crazy in love, to say the least. You could say no. But you didn't want to. Hyunjin just looks at you, bottom lip between his teeth and it felt like he was holding his breath.

'Ok.' You said. 'Ok, I will give it a try. But if he puts one toe out of line, -'

'I won't' Hyunjin said, quickly. 'I really won't.'

Knowing his ways, you weren't so sure. But you still nod.

'I'm so happy!' Jennie said clapping. 'Finally. I've waited for this day for so long!'

'Congrats Hyunjinnie and Y/N noona!' Jeongin said giving you both a cute smile.

'Let's not make this more awkward now.' Minho said. 'Let them be.'

You give Minho a grateful look before your eyes fall on Hyunjin. He sat with his eyes on you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. The rest of them went on doing their own things leaving you two alone in the room.

'So, girlfriend.' Hyunjin said, teasingly. 'Come here and gimme a kiss.'

You shoot him a glare, making him laugh.

A month later:

It was movie night at the boys' apartment. Changbin and Jennie shared a couch, and you and Hyunjin shared another. The rest of them had put sleeping bags on the floor and they were all settled to watch the movie.

Hyunjin had draped a blanket over you both. It has been more than a month since Jennie pronounced you a couple, but you were still a bit awkward with it. It made you so sad that even though you held hands and cuddled and went out on dates, none of it felt real. Hyunjin didn't irritate you like he usually did. But that was all.

Hyunjin, who was usually a very confident person, felt like everything was out of his control. He had wanted this for so long, but now that it was actually happening, he was scared. He didn't want to lose you in any way. You were so perfect in his eyes, he felt that he wasn't enough. He felt this was why you never really told him anything important or even look at him with affection.

The movie was going pretty well, until some steamy scenes came by. You feel Hyunjin's fingers intertwine with yours and he slowly brought them up to his lips. You blush at his sudden display of affection.

Hyunjin moved closer, his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart raced and you throw a quick glance at Jennie's way. She and Changbin were huddled together, whereas the others were already asleep.

'Jinn-'

Hyunjin's lips were hot against your own. You feel butterflies in you stomach as he tilted his head slightly for better angle. Your lips moved together in synch and his free hand slipped under your night shirt, cupping your breast over your bra. Your grip on his arm tightened as he squeezed gently.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing soft warm kisses on their way. You close your eyes, engrossed in the feeling. But your eyes snapped open when Jeongin's raspy voice called out your name.

Hyunjin stopped and sat still. You turn to look at Jeongin who had his eyes still closed.

'Can you please get me some water?' he mumbled sleepily and you sigh in relief.

Hyunjin is up on his feet, taking your hand and walking towards the kitchen. Pulling you into his arms again, he kissed you, this time more demanding than before. You pull back to breathe and he watched like a predator looking at his prey. He stepped closer and kissed you again. His hands wandered, over your chest and sides, before cupping your butt through your shorts. He pulled you as close as he could.

You were shocked and you gasped as you felt him against you. You gently put a hand to his chest, to stop him. Shaking your head, you try to step away. Hyunjin looks at you, but not that lovesick look he gave you a few minutes ago. You heart thudded on heavily as you remembered the last time you had seen this look of utter heartbreak on his face.

This wasn't your first time with Hyunjin. The last time it happened,you were at one of Kim Mingyu's famous parties, back in highschool. You were all drunk (for the first time in your case) and Hyunjin was all touchy (what's new?). He had dragged you to one of the bathrooms where you got into a very heated make out session.

You were terrified and it was your very first time letting a boy touch you like that. You had pushed him away, even though you have loved it. He had looked just as heartbroken back then. Being rejected by the love of his life hurt like hell.

You never spoke of it, and somehow all the frustration of never being able to go back to that moment and being too awkward to try it again led to your constant battles. You're both quiet, each reliving the memory.

'Do you not enjoy it?' Hyunjin asked, trying to remain calm.

You are surprised by this question.

'What sort of a question is that?!' You ask, giving him a glare.

'Why do you always push me away? Are you really not interested?' He asks, and you just stare at him in silence. 'Is sex a problem?'

'Hyunjin, are you really that stupid?' you ask, trying to understand what he's saying.

'Is that why you haven't been with anyone all these years?' He asks, folding his arms against his chest.

'How does that concern you?' You retort, embarrassment hitting you hard.

Hyunjin laughs and says, 'Thanks to my sister you have me.'

'I can get any guy I want on my own Hwang Hyunjin! I don't need you or your sister for that!  It's my choice if I see people or not!' you said furiously. 'I don't like to fuck around for fun like you do!'

Hyunjin scoffed.

'Why do you ruin everything, Hyunjin?' You ask. 'That was a good moment we had.'

'Was it?' Hyunjin asked, shaking his head. 'You were dying to push me away.'

'You know what, fuck you!' You said, making your way out.

'I dare you to find someone who's actually interested in you!' Hyunjin said suddenly.

You turn to look at him, the hurt clear on your face.

'YOU are breaking up with me?' You ask, raising your eyebrows.

'I never said that.' Hyunjin said, a pang of guilt (and fear) hitting him.

'Well, good. Because I am breaking up with you.' You said, a single tear escaping your eye before you left the room.

Hyunjin stood watching you leave. He knew he had said too much. He had provoked you, though he promised that he wouldn't. But he was really hoping to take things forward. Your rejection had just hit him in the wrong way.

You tossed the bottle to Jeongin on your way out of the apartment. Tears ran freely down your cheeks and you couldn't hold back your sobs anymore.

It was too good to be true, you thought.

[yujeong]

.... You know... Vegas canonically making sure to check if his pets are healthy in all aspects of their existence is something that has such potential for pure *filth* and I need to dissect it a little bit. (Warning: this is going to be gross. I'll be talking about excrements. I'll be describing things in detail; not much, but enough to probably make someone gag, so skip this if it's too disgusting for you to read.)

So, ok. The whole fandom has had ideas about how Pete could be getting cleaned at the safehouse. Most of what I've seen is Vegas taking him to a separate room to clean him up or to give him a shave - lovely fics out there, I have to say - and I agree with that idea. The room doesn't have anything in it for Pete to wash himself - - which brings me to the toilet issue. Look. The show didn't even touch on showering, so the very valid question of "How was Pete going to the toilet?" would never be explored, no matter how interesting that would be. (To me. It'd be interesting to me and maybe 2 other people, but still.) I have already explained in this post just how utterly disgusting the safehouse really is as an environment (specifically the room Pete is being held at for obvious reasons), which brings me to this, because one idea I had for the toilet issue was... Vegas leaving a bucket next to Pete to use for his, um, needs. (Generally, I'm very into Vegas humiliating Pete during the safehouse days as a torture method. I believe the dog bowl scene speaks for itself.) Now, one issue in regards to this is the fact that Pete wasn't eating. When your food intake decreases, it leads to constipation, and I can just *imagine* Vegas losing his mind whenever he returned in the room to check if the bucket was full and only seeing piss in there - not much of it, too, because Pete sure as hell wasn't drinking any water. Of course, the next step is dragging Pete to the bathroom to do it there, right? He has to make sure his pet's digestive system is working properly, which means... Vegas staying in the bathroom to watch Pete, checking the contortions on Pete's face, the change of colour on his cheeks, hearing his subtle moans and groans and gasps from his efforts to do the thing, seeing him struggle, sigh, maybe shed a tear or two from the pain. ^This isn't meant to be sexual btw, but it also is in a way, because it's Vegas we're talking about here. Vegas is attracted to all of Pete, to everything coming out of him (heh). So, he watches. He doesn't let Pete touch anything in the bathroom. He doesn't let him flush. He takes him back to the room, locks him there and returns to the narrow space to inspect. He spends minutes staring at Pete's excrements, at how small they are ("Don't they feed them anything at the main family?" he wonders like a hypocrite), he lets the smell invade his nose and does his best to not frown, maybe he lowers his body to have a closer look, to check the colour, the texture and everything else - he wouldn't want Pete to have diarrhea or something, right? - and after spending so much time down there that his knees are starting to hurt, he gets up and pulls the string to flush the toiler (idk why I imagined this type of toiler for the safehouse, but stay with me.) And then, he realizes the toiler isn't functioning properly and the excrements stay there, and suddenly, the morbid fascination he had turns into anger. Why aren't they going away? Why are they still here? So, he pulls and pulls and pulls, maybe he breaks the string from how forcefully he's pulling it and he yells in frustration - worthless piece of shit, can't even flush a fucking toilet - so he ends up grabbing the bucket he'd given to Pete, filling it with water and pouring it in there to make the excrements go away. He succeeds the fifth time, drenched in sweat. See? he says to himself. Maybe you can deal with your shit after all. But this can't continue, he thinks. So what if, in Eileen fashion, Vegas thinks that the best way to deal with this problem is by force-feeding Pete laxatives to help him release the load? And what if that solution makes Pete's stomach worse? What if it leads to him vomiting (which is another result of not eating), making Vegas lose his mind even further? What if Vegas' actions create a circle of grossness he can't escape from? I can go on and on about this, but I'll stop here, I think I got the point across lol. VegasPete are so gross (affectionate) (derogatory) ❤️❤️

[cheynovak]

A Night to Remember

Part 9: Home sweet home?  

Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N         

Warnings: unfaithful,  divorce, hurt, angst, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

Before you read... I'm sorry in advance.

--    

Will the world believe that Jensen and Y/N were acting, will the world believe the picture was a publicity stunt? But more importantly, will they?       

Or is their tension towards each other, their ‘harmless’ flirting going to burst into flames? How much longer will they be able to keep their professional distance?     

-- 

Jensen had just returned home from a whirlwind convention tour, his heart heavy with unresolved emotions from his encounter with Y/N in Greece. They had met under the dazzling Mediterranean sun, shared stolen moments, and ignited a spark that was impossible to ignore. But their time together had been marred by an argument that left them both reeling, and there had been no chance to mend the rift before he had to leave. 

As he walked through the front door of his Austin home, the familiar warmth and comfort did little to ease his mind. Danneel, his wife, greeted him with a forced smile, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. Their three kids were a blur of excitement, hugging and fighting for his attention, but Jensen's thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. 

It was after the kids had gone to bed that the storm finally broke. Danneel had been waiting for the right moment, and now, in the quiet of their living room, she couldn't hold back any longer. 

"Jensen, we need to talk," she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. He turned to face her, guilt gnawing at his insides. "What's wrong, Dee?" 

"What's wrong?" she repeated, incredulous. "You tell me. You've been distant for months, Jensen. And now, I find these." She held up his phone, the screen glowing with incriminating evidence. 

Jensen's heart sank as he saw the messages he had exchanged with Y/N, the late-night phone calls, and the photos from Greece. He had been careless, letting his guard down in moments of weakness. 

"Danneel, ..." he started, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me, Jensen! You've been sneaking around behind my back with her, telling me not to worry. How long has this been going on?" 

"It wasn't like that," Jensen protested, his voice rising. "Y/N and I... we connected, yes, but it was never physical. We had a rough time, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I was trying to sort out my feelings." 

Danneel's eyes filled with tears, her anger giving way to heartbreak. "You should have been sorting out your feelings with me, Jensen. I'm your wife. We have a family. Do you even realize what you've done?" 

"I know, Dee, I know," he said, stepping closer, but she backed away, shaking her head. "Do you? Because it feels like you've forgotten everything we've built together. You've been so wrapped up in your own world, you didn't even notice me slipping away." 

Jensen felt a pang of regret, realizing the extent of the damage he'd caused. "I'm sorry, Danneel. I never meant to hurt you. I was confused and lost, but I know that's no excuse." 

She wiped away a tear, her expression hardening. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Jensen. How do I know this won't happen again? How do I know you're not in love with her?" 

His silence spoke volumes. He couldn't deny the feelings he had for Y/N, but he also knew he couldn't bear to lose Danneel and their family. Danneel’s next words threw him off balance. 

“Jensen, I think we need to take some time apart,” Danneel said, her voice steady but laced with pain. He stared at her, stunned. “Apart? Danneel, please, we can work through this together. I don’t want to be away from you and the kids.” 

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I need time, Jensen. Time to heal, to figure out what I want, and to see if I can ever trust you again. I can’t just pretend everything is okay when it’s not.” 

Jensen felt a surge of panic. “What about the kids? How will we explain this to them?” Danneel thought for a second, “Right now, nothing too much, we’ll tell them your work is taking longer. I’ll call you like we used to do.” 

He wanted to protest, to plead with her to reconsider, but he could see the resolve in her expression. She needed this space, and if he truly wanted to make things right, he had to respect her wishes. 

“Okay,” Jensen said quietly. “I’ll stay somewhere else for a while.” She nodded, wiping away a tear.  

The next few days were a blur of packing and quiet, painful conversations. Jensen found a temporary place to stay, a small apartment not too far from their home. Saying goodbye to his children was the hardest part; their confused and sad faces tore at his heart. 

“Why are you leaving, Daddy?” their oldest asked, her big eyes filled with worry. 

“I just need to take care of some things for work, sweetheart. But I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you very much,” Jensen assured her, hugging her tightly.  

Once he was settled in his new place, the loneliness set in. The apartment was stark and impersonal, a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made. He spent his days focusing on his work and his nights thinking about how he had ended up here. 

Danneel, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep things normal for the kids. She threw herself into her routines, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy while grappling with her own feelings of betrayal and sadness. 

One evening, after putting the kids to bed, Danneel found herself scrolling through old photos on her phone. Pictures of happier times, family vacations, birthdays, and quiet moments at home. She felt a pang of longing for those days, wondering if they could ever get back to that place. 

Finally, after nearly two months apart, Danneel reached out to Jensen. They agreed to meet at a small café, a neutral place where they could talk without the weight of their home hanging over them. 

Jensen arrived early, his heart pounding with anxiety. When Danneel walked in, looking both familiar and distant, he stood up, unsure of what to expect. 

“Hi,” she said softly, sitting down across from him. 

“Hi,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. 

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence heavy but not entirely uncomfortable. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Danneel began. “And a lot of healing. These past few weeks have been incredibly hard, but also... enlightening.” 

Jensen nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I’ve realized that I still love you, Jensen. But love isn’t enough. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that’s going to take time.” She reached across the table, taking his hand. 

Jensen felt the warmth of Danneel's hand in his, but the words that followed shattered the fragile hope he had been nurturing. 

“Jensen, I don’t think I can live with you anymore. I need to know that your mind and heart are no longer with Y/N. This separation isn’t just about space; it’s about healing and trust.” 

His heart sank. He had been clinging to the idea that they could rebuild their life together under the same roof. “Danneel, I still think about her sometimes,” he admitted, the honesty painful but necessary. “But my priority is you and the kids. I want to be the father they need and the husband you deserve.” 

She pulled her hand back, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve never felt betrayed like this, Jensen. I’ve tried to understand, to forgive, but every time I look at you, all I can think about is the hurt. I don’t know if I can move past this.” 

His throat tightened, the reality of her words cutting deep. “What are you saying, Dee?” 

“I think we need to get a divorce,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I don’t think I can ever fully trust you again. For the sake of my own sanity and the well-being of our kids, I think it’s the best decision.” 

Jensen felt a wave of despair crash over him. “Danneel, please, can we try counseling together? Anything to avoid this.” She thought long about her next words. “You said yourself you were never physical with her. But the fact that you kept lying about her made it very clear she is more than just a hookup.”  

Tears welled up in Jensen’s eyes as he struggled to find the right words. I’ll always love you and will do everything I can to be a good father.” 

Danneel nodded, her own tears falling freely now. “I know you will, Jensen. And I believe you do love me in your way. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. Maybe this was meant to be.” “I’ll talk to a lawyer and start the process,” she said quietly. “We’ll figure out a way to tell the kids together.” 

Jensen nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He watched as she walked away, her figure gradually disappearing from view, taking with her the remnants of their shared dreams. 

The following weeks were a blur of legal meetings and painful conversations. Telling the kids was the hardest part. They sat them down together in the living room, explaining as gently as possible that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be living together anymore but that they both loved them very much. 

Their oldest, confused and heartbroken, asked, “Why can’t you stay together? Don’t you love each other?” 

Danneel, tears streaming down her face, replied, “We do love each other, sweetie. But sometimes, adults need to make hard decisions to make sure everyone is okay.” Jensen added, “We’ll still be a family, just a little different. We’ll both always be here for you, no matter what.” 

Jensen threw himself into his work and focused on being present for his children. He moved to a new apartment nearby to stay close to them, making sure to be involved in their daily lives as much as possible. 

Danneel, too, found a new rhythm. She leaned on her friends and family for support, gradually finding her own sense of peace and independence. 

Sometime later.  

Danneel pushed her cart down the aisle of the local grocery store, her mind occupied with the mundane tasks of everyday life. It had been a few months since she and Jensen had decided to divorce, and while the pain still lingered, she was gradually finding a new sense of normalcy. The kids were adjusting, and she was focused on creating a stable, happy environment for them. 

As she turned into the produce section, she noticed a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. Y/N stood near the apples, looking dishevelled and tired. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and her clothes looked like they had been hastily thrown on. She seemed lost in her thoughts, staring blankly at the fruit in front of her. 

Danneel hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and approached Y/N. Whatever animosity she might have felt was overshadowed by genuine concern. As she got closer, Y/N looked up and their eyes met. There was a flicker of recognition, followed by a wary, almost apologetic look. 

"Y/N?" Danneel said softly. Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Danneel... hi." They stood there for a moment in awkward silence before Danneel spoke again. "I didn’t expect to see you here." 

Y/N shrugged, trying to muster a weak smile. "I eh, work on a project nearby." Danneel studied her for a moment, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the defeated slump of her shoulders. “Are you okay? You look... tired.” 

Y/N sighed, her facade crumbling. ”I’m fine, just long nights shooting you know, thanks for asking.” Clearly trying to avoid this conversation. Danneel nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy. “I can imagine... Listen, I know about you and Jensen. About the calls, text, Greece.” 

“You do?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes,” Danneel said gently. “And I want you to know that Jensen and I have separated. We’re getting a divorce.” Y/N looked shocked, her face paling. “I-I-I had no idea.” 

Danneel was taken aback. She had assumed Jensen would have reached out to Y/N, given the intensity of their connection. “He hasn’t contacted you at all?” 

Y/N shook her head, looking more distressed. “No. I thought... I thought maybe he just needed space to figure things out. But I didn’t know about you two. I’m so sorry, Danneel. I never wanted to come between you.” 

Danneel could see the genuine regret and confusion in Y/N’s eyes. It was clear that she had been just as caught up in the whirlwind as Jensen had. “I believe you, Y/N. And for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you. This situation... it’s complicated.” 

Y/N nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I cared about him, Danneel. But I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Danneel sighed, feeling a strange sense of relief and understanding. “Jensen and I had our issues long before you came into the picture. What happened between you two was a symptom, not the cause.” 

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared pain hanging between them. Finally, Danneel spoke again. “I hope you find the clarity and peace you need, Y/N. We all deserve that.” 

Y/N wiped her eyes, nodding. “Thank you, Danneel. I hope the same for you.” 

As Danneel turned to leave, she felt a sense of closure she hadn’t expected. Seeing Y/N like this, vulnerable and remorseful, had helped her let go of some of the anger and hurt she had been carrying. 

--

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories. If you feel like being tagged too much don't be scared to contact me! <3

@muhahaha303 @cevansbaby-dove @angelbabyyy99 @zaratahir @ladysparkles78 @summerx-o @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-wincheste @yvonneeeee

[flanarchy]

.

[bikananjarrus]

it’s really such a crime that rriordan immediately pitted percy and jason against each other when they should’ve immediately bonded over being kidnapped by hera, having their memories erased, and months of time stolen from them. they should’ve been allowed to recognize each other as leaders of their respective camps (and understand what it took to get in that position, because leadership has a cost) and recognize that they are being pushed around the chessboard by the gods AGAIN, and they should’ve gotten the chance to truly combine their strength (with annabeth’s additional leadership skills) and lead the younger members of the seven. and in doing so hera would’ve realized the mistake of giving them common ground, because percy and jason’s combined power? their matching bitterness and contempt for the gods? unmatched. the olympians thought luke was bad, but god help them when percy and jason turn their power onto them

[transmechanicus]

Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.

[geometric-bs]

shoutout to the teacher that said my chronic pain would be fine in a few years and to not be pessimistic

not because she was right, I just want people to yell at her

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 27

"Long Time Gone" by The Chicks

[just-a-small-town-queer]

Y'know. I'm beginning to realize I project a lot. Specifically my own fears and worldview. Kind of an issue.

[narsh-potatoes]

DOES ANYONE ELSE WANT TO BITE OFF HEADS WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[akkivee]

‘this bond will last for eternity. i won’t tolerate betrayals or running away.’

——

so speaking of kuukou probably has attachment issues in the form of being too attached, he has this arb line lmao

i revisited the kiyohime legend, and in some iterations of the legend, she specifically turns into a dragon of rage after she tried to cross a river and died to follow someone she loved who promised her he’d stay by her side, but only did so in order to escape her. makes me think this legend really is kuukou’s blueprint lol 🤔

[mudskip-muses]

bad news under the cut

Hey so one of my younger cousins just passed away in a car accident like we just got the call so I'm probably going to be sporadically poofing or manically tied to my blogs as a distraction so just. bear with me for a bit