atrociousbmoc

[innerfare]

You Just Do It Better 

Summary: There are some things that are better left to you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:  

When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better. 

Zoro: 

Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better. 

Sanji: 

Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better. 

Ace: 

It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better. 

Sabo: 

You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better. 

Law: 

You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better. 

Kid: 

Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[aaagustd]

movie night | choi seungcheol (m)

title: movie night pairing: seungcheol x (f)reader genre/rating: established relationship, pwp; 18+ summary: You’re definitely still mad at him, but he’s so hot. wc: 1.6k warnings: mentions horror movies and stuff, reader is trying to “i’m scared” her way into getting some dick, mentions periods/pms, kissing, missionary, makeup sex, big dick!cheol, unprotected sex, they’re so cute lol, i think that’s all note: i wrote this one day bc i was in my feelings lol. i hope you like this little october parting gift. it’s unedited bc i've been super busy so i apologize for my trash lol.

inbox | join my taglist | divider credit

“That’s not my scarecrow.”

You clutch your blanket close to your body as you sit surrounded by darkness on your living room couch. Your boyfriend, Seungcheol, is seated beside you. Although he’s only inches away it seems like you’re miles apart emotionally. 

There haven’t been too many words exchanged between you over the past few days. You can’t recall the subject of the argument, or the catalyst—but you’re days away from your period and if you’re being honest, deep down, you miss your man.

However, you’re as stubborn as they come. Hoisting your white flag isn’t an option for you. He’s usually the one who resolves these things. You can’t understand why all of a sudden he has to match your energy. He’s doing this on purpose to torture you.

As you stare at the screen, already knowing what is in store for the elderly woman with the shotgun in hand, mischief creeps its way into your mind—conjuring a sinister but genius plan to grant you some of your boyfriend’s attention. You’ve seen this movie more times than you can count, and have added it to your Top 10; but tonight, you’ll pretend it is too much for your poor little heart.

After the gunshots, the TV is dark and quiet, and then suddenly the lady appears. She comes closer and closer to her front porch, her cats screeching and scurrying in fear as they lay eyes on a sight not visible to the pair of stranded siblings and the movie viewers. You hold your breath, waiting for the perfect moment—and then, it happens.

The creature drops the woman’s limp body and reveals himself, leaving everyone shocked by the sudden character death. You pretend to be frightened by the jumpscare, purposefully shifting closer to Seungcheol as you bounce out of your seat with your false fear.

Instead of offering one of his strong arms for comfort, you’re given a cold side-eye, but the failed attention doesn’t falter your determination. You wait for another startling scene, and once again, you stage a dramatic reaction. This time, whether it’s out of annoyance or concern is unknown, he acknowledges you.

“Scared?”

Timidly, you offer a small nod. You secretly hope it is as feeble as you strived for it to be.

“Come here,” he beckons, opening his arms for you to come over and snuggle against his chest. 

You leap at the opportunity faster than you intended, but he either doesn’t notice or just chooses not to say anything. Once you’re next to him, head resting on his chest while your leg is thrown over his lap—he wraps his right arm around you and surrounds you with warmth. You smile, but only until the movie is over.

After about 30 minutes, the credits roll, and the movie is over. You stretch, knowing it’s time to go get some sleep because you have work in the morning. As you stand and start walking to your bedroom, you’re puzzled when you don’t hear the familiar sound of Seungcheol dragging his feet behind you. 

“You’re not coming?” you ask, turning around to see if there’s any sign of him preparing for bed.

Unfortunately, he seems comfortable where he is. It’s not like he has work tomorrow, like you. However, you always move to the bedroom at the same time. You’re taken aback by the random change of plans.

“Later.”

You hope the darkness conceals your disappointment. Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up horny, but you’ll probably die if someone touches you while you’re PMSing. You want to fuck now, so tomorrow your hormones won’t be all over the place, but you won’t ask. Your pride is too high.

“Okay. Well, goodnight.”

“Night, baby,” he replies, not even watching your defeated figure walk away.

Your legs carry you to your room and you fall on the bed face first, burying your head in the comforter to mask your sigh of frustration. You aren’t sure how long you lie there, but you begin to fall asleep. However, the sound of your boyfriend’s voice makes you jolt with surprise.

“Shit! What the fuck!”

His laughter fills the room, but you don’t find anything funny. He nearly scared your soul out of your body. You send a pillow flying towards his head.

“When did you become such a pussy?” he asks, catching the object in mid-air.

“Shut up, you just startled me.”

“Sure, I did. Did the movie startle you too?”

Rolling your eyes, you return your head to the covers, shielding yourself from his teasing. You don’t bother making room for him because you’re still a little pissed. You figure he’ll just leave you alone and sleep on the couch but then his cold fingertips touch the back of your thigh and your mood changes drastically.

They begin to travel across your exposed skin, eventually crawling under your large t-shirt, a “borrowed” item of his. You can only imagine the look on his face when he finds nothing but panties underneath. Sure, he knows how you sleep, but he probably wasn’t expecting you to dress so conveniently tonight.

You exhale a soft moan as his fingers tickle your inner thighs, and he’s quick to notice the way you’ve crumbled in a matter of seconds. 

“I mean… it’s okay to be scared, baby.”

“I’m not scared, asshole,” you mumble into the fabric. “Just go back to the—”

“Want me to ease your mind?” When silence falls over the room, he mistakes it for rejection and withdraws his hand. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

Your reaction leaves him smirking, but you don’t care how desperate you appear.

“No, come to bed,” you insist, grabbing his shirt. 

As he slips one of his arms around your waist you pull him closer, making his knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Is that what you want?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

It only takes seconds before your lips connect for a slow and gentle kiss. It’s a silent peace offering, a surrender to all the desires you both have held onto out of stubbornness. Seungcheol naturally gains all the control, using his dominance to take the lead. His confidence earns your submission, and you allow him to gently guide you back on the bed. 

Climbing on top of you, he can’t bear to pull away. He removes his shirt in a swift motion, tossing it across the room while he continues his trail of kisses down your neck. Your body arches off the bed as he removes your panties, aiding him by kicking your legs until they slip off your ankles. Once you are bare, you spread your legs for him and he settles between your thighs.

“Look at you,” he taunts, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Not so bratty now, huh?”

Seungcheol’s hand finally touches your pussy, leaving you gasping for air. Words get trapped in your throat, making you croak out responses to the pleasure you’re feeling between your legs.

“Please.”

Your begging grasps his attention and he pauses briefly to look into your eyes.

“What are you asking for?” 

He continues to slowly massage your clit, causing your crevice to become soaked with your arousal. You hear the lewd sounds it makes as he dips his fingers in and out of your heat. It’s almost shameful, but there’s no room for modesty in your bedroom.

“This,” you say clearly while your palm presses firmly against his crotch. His dick feels hard and solid; even through his thick sweatpants. You’re pleased to know you aren’t the only one eager for some relief. 

Seungcheol hisses in agony as your hand lazily strokes his sensitive length. His sculpted forearms tremble as he struggles to hold up his weight while watching the scene unfold. 

“I need it.”

In an instant, your wish is granted. He springs into action by standing up and pulling down his pants and underwear in one motion. You prop yourself on your elbows so you can watch the way his dick stands at attention, begging to fill your soddened center.

Seconds later, he returns, climbing on top of you and lowering his head. As you chase each other’s lips, you feel him near your opening. Your hips rise off the bed, trying to meet his tip so he can sink into your warmth. 

You gasp when he slips inside, relieved that the teasing is now over. Wrapping your limbs around his body, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his lips on you once more.

Your moans pour into each other’s mouths as your boyfriend begins fucking you with deep thrusts. You hold onto him tightly while he whispers the filthiest things in the sweetest ways you’ll ever hear.

He brings you closer and closer to your peak with every snap of his hips. The tension building in your core starts to become unbearable. Seungcheol can feel the way you’re clenching around him and delivers his final thrusts with precision.

As your cries of pleasure fill the dark bedroom, you can hear the neighbors banging on the wall. Both of you laugh, knowing a nasty note will be left on your door in the morning.

“Can you do me a favor?” he asks.

You nod, of course. “Anything.”

Feeling invincible in your post-orgasmic high, you’re ready to take on the world.

“The next time you wanna act scared, pick a movie you haven’t watched a thousand times.”

Instead of throwing another pillow at him, you smack him with it instead. He falls over dramatically, but his giggles can’t be controlled. You can only roll your eyes and take his advice. 

Damn. He knows you too well.

---

If anyone can guess which movie they were watching without using Google, I will hug you lol.

[itneverendshere]

for bitchy pogue reader I'd love some actual introductions to Topper and Kelce after the golf course, they can be huge assholes but we've seen a nicer side to both of them. So Rafe trying to see if group hanging out *is* possible, and it's probably very weird but maybe it works out?

it's not working out just yet....but maybe! soon! thank you for the request💗

get your head in the game

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you think you had too many shots before leaving the house.

alright, so maybe the vodka was overkill. maybe. but you knew you’d need a little courage to pull off this top that’s basically a vague suggestion of a shirt. the whole thing's simple math—tight skirt, low-cut top, a flick of lip gloss, and, boom, everyone else is irrelevant.

if you wanted, you could have any guy here eating out of the palm of your hand. so why the fuck did you dress thinking about rafe when you’re supposed to distance yourself from that asshole? no idea.

the bonfire’s huge tonight, lighting up all the faces you couldn’t care less about.

you can feel him, hovering somewhere nearby. he’s in that faded sweatshirt he always wears when it’s colder out, the one that smells like salt and smoke and way too many of your bad nights. mister pouty face himself, sulking around the fire, watching you with this look that says he knows he messed up but doesn’t even know where to start patching things over.

you turn your back on him for the millionth time that night, let your hips sway just a little extra, knowing he’s watching. yeah, you’re putting on a show, all right—flicking your hair, laughing louder than you need to. 

you’re just reaching for a beer when you feel hands slide around your waist, and you almost jump out of your skin, but then you catch that familiar, maddening scent of his and your body goes all traitorous, leaning back against him before you snap out of it.

"jesus,” you’re already twisting out of his clasp, turning around, and there he is, standing like he didn’t just sneak up on you with those stupid blue eyes and that stupid, lopsided grin. 

you want to shove him away, but he’s got that look, like he’s begging for a chance without saying a word, and you hate how much it gets to you.

your head had been a mess since that day at the golf course.

“what do you want?” you ask, arms crossed, brows up, giving him that full-on don’t mess with me look.

“to talk,” he’s close, way too close, looking down at you like he’s trying to read every little twitch of your face as if he can just stand there and make things better by breathing the same air.

his hands are still hovering around your waist, like he’s waiting for permission to touch you again. part of you wants to let him, but you just narrow your eyes, tilting your chin.

“aren’t you afraid your little friends are gonna see you?” you edge him on, “talking to a pogue?”

“don’t start,” he says, you can see the pleading in his eyes as he reaches for your waist again, fingertips brushing your hip, like he can’t stand not touching you for another second.

“why not?”

he winces, dropping his hand back to his side, and it’s almost pathetic, how he’s just standing there, not even pretending to defend himself. “i—c’mon, i already apologized—”

you roll your eyes, not trying to hide the smirk pulling at your lips. 

“apologized?” you let out a bitter laugh, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “oh, yeah, that makes up for all the times you acted like i didn’t exist.”

his face crumples, and you can see him struggling, his hand drifting toward your hip again, but he hesitates like he’s afraid he’s about to get slapped away.

it’s almost sad, mr. big shot practically pussy-whipped.

“c’mon, don’t do this,” he murmurs, stepping closer until you can feel the warmth of him. his fingertips ghost along your bare arm, like he’s desperate just to feel you. 

you scoff, leaning back against the cooler, crossing your arms in front of you as his hand slides to your waist, bold and pleading all at once. his touch is warm, and you hate how your body responds like it’s a prayer, like you've been waiting all night for him to finally show up.

“there’s some people i want you to meet.”

his thumb brushes the skin just above your waistband, and he’s so close you can feel his breath against your cheek.

“what?” you huff in annoyance, lifting your chin up as he inches closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck.

you feel his thumb grazing your skin back and forth, his lips so close you can taste the desperation in his breath.

perhaps it’s the vodka, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you but you feel yourself softening, just a little, against your will.

“my friends.”

you didn’t hear him right. 

his friends? the same friends who wouldn’t even look at you if you walked past them in town? the same friends he’d all but hid you from for months?

“what?” you ask, slower this time, more disbelief than anything, and you tilt your head up to get a better look at him. 

he’s got that kicked puppy look in his eyes, and you’re not even sure what to make of it.

this is rafe cameron, the guy who wouldn’t be caught dead with you outside the bedroom, now practically begging to introduce you to his kook buddies?

“i want them to know,” his voice trails off, “i want them to know ‘m with you.”

“with me?” you repeat, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “since when?”

this can’t be real—this can’t be the same rafe who couldn’t even look you in the eye outside his house three months ago.

“i told you, the other day at the golf course.”

you stare at him like he’s stupid, “you mean, when you went alpha on those little frat boys?”

“i saved you from them, okay.” 

you’re seconds away from outright laughter when he just keeps looking at you with those fucking pleading eyes, that hand grazing your cheek in a way that should be soft but instead feels like he’s trying to imprint himself into your skin.

why the fuck is this so endearing to you.

he sounds almost earnest—almost. but you’re not giving him an inch, not after months of him acting like he didn’t know your name outside of his bedroom. 

“what do you mean, ‘saved me’?” you raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “saved me from what? a little attention?”

rafe lets out a rough exhale, glancing down with a frustrated shake of his head.

“they were hitting on you,” he mutters, his hand tightening on your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of every single inch of his hold on you. “and ‘m not gonna stand around and watch some asshole get his hands all over what’s mine.”

mine?  he’s really lost it. 

“country club, i don’t know if you hit your head golfing and this is some post-head trauma hallucination, but ‘mine’ implies you want something more than whatever the fuck this is.” you motion between the two of you, throwing a hand up in exasperation.

“why don’t you ever call me by my name?” he grumbles, just like he did the other day on the golf course. he lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “except when—”

your mouth drops open. is he serious? this shit again?

“except when what?” you glare at him as you swat his chest. 

he’s got that smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“you only call me rafe when,” his voice drops deliciously, and he leans in close, eyes half-lidded and fixed on your lips. “…when ’m inside you.”

“shut up,” you hiss, smacking his chest again, but he doesn’t move. instead, his smirk grows as he catches your wrist and holds it, letting his fingers trace over your knuckles.

before you can retort, there’s a loud cackle from behind you.

you turn, and there they are: topper and kelce, both looking like they’ve stumbled into a parallel universe.

“whoa, what’s this?” topper’s smirk is almost as wide as rafe’s. “didn’t know our boy here had himself a—” he raises his eyebrows, letting the word hang with a smug twist of his mouth. kelce snickers, crossing his arms, eyes darting between you and rafe.

you’re already huffing, half-prepared to watch rafe put on his usual bad boy with daddy issues mask, toss out some stupid excuse, or worse—let them think you’re just a fucking hole to him.

rafe gives your waist an extra squeeze, fingers pressing into your side as if he’s staking a claim.

“this,” he says, clearing his throat like he’s about to announce something official, “is my girlfriend.”

you blink, utterly thrown, and from the look on their faces, topper and kelce are right there with you, both staring at rafe like he’s just grown an extra head.

“your what?” kelce sputters out, eyes widening, clearly expecting the punchline.

you open your mouth to say something snarky, make some joke out of this whole ridiculous scene, but rafe’s fingers are tracing slow, warm circles against your hip and you can’t think straight to save your life.

god, old you would’ve ridiculed yourself for being putty in the hands of a kook of all people. 

“girlfriend,” he repeats, like he’s spelling it out just for them. “want you both to meet her.”

you swear kelce’s jaw drops, while topper lets out a low, incredulous laugh. tweedledum and tweedledee at their best.

“you’re serious,” topper mutters, giving you a once-over and shaking his head in disbelief. “i thought she was just a—”

“yeah, ’m serious,” rafe cuts in, his tone brooking no argument.

you must’ve missed the part where you two talked about this thing like adults and he proceeded to ask you. 

“your what?” you bite out, as you try to wrench his arm away, but his grip only tightens, he’s prepared for a full-on wrestle if it keeps you there.

“hey—will you just stay here?” he murmurs, voice low enough that it’s just for you. 

you’d throw something at him if you could. you yank his hand away anyway, tearing yourself free from his grip. “stay? are you kidding?”

you’re already storming off into the crowd, but you still hear kelce behind you, their voices , “that went well.”

rafe curses under his breath, but you just keep walking, not looking back, even as you can feel him running after you, those long legs of his making it easy to catch up.

“wait! seriously, wait!”

 like hell you’re going to let him off the hook so easily.

“not happening!” you shout over your shoulder. 

you could turn around and give him one last piece of your mind, but a part of you knows it’ll only lead to more hurt feelings—yours or his. you push through a group of people huddled around the bonfire, and it’s only when you reach the edge of the beach that you finally stop, trying to catch your breath.

“why do you always do this?” rafe’s voice comes from behind you. you don’t turn around, knowing that if you see that look on his face, you might just give in.

“do what?” you shoot back, crossing your arms defensively.

“run away,” he almost whines, taking a step closer, and you can hear the frustration in the way his throat tightens up, “you never give me a chance to explain.”

“explain what? that you want me to be your girlfriend when two weeks ago, you couldn’t even look at me in front of your friends?” you spin to face him, “this is ridiculous.”

rafe opens his mouth, probably to defend himself, but the look on your face shuts any attempt down.

“i asked you to stay.”

you groan, itching to pull your hair out, “what are you talkin’ about?”

“that night, i asked you to stay.”

“and proceeded to ignore me the next day, yes, i’m well fuckin’ aware.”

you want him to feel a sliver of what he’s put you through, but he just steps closer, almost like he’s trying to coax you back.

“i was trying to figure things out,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. “it’s not easy, alright?”

“were you incredibly tortured by the thought of letting your friends know you were slumming it with a ‘pogue’? please.”

“what, you really think i don’t care about you?” he’s pleading now, his face just inches from yours. “because if you don’t know that by now, then i don’t know what else i can do.”

you laugh bitterly. Is he actually serious?

“you can grow a fucking pair. where was this brave, ‘caring’ version of you last week? or the week before that?” you throw a hand up, trying to make him see how obvious this all is. “when you could’ve just acted like a man and told your friends instead of pretending i was some embarrassing secret.”

“’m trying to fix that,” he says, his desperate, “right here, right now.”

“and ’m supposed to just forget the way you treated me all those times?”

“can you just let me try to be better?”

you swallow, biting your lip. he’s closer now, and you can smell that familiar cologne and saltwater.

“it’s gonna take more than a few pretty words.”

“i know,” he says, nodding like he’s promising you something. “that’s why i want you to meet my friends, why i want them to know ’m with you.” his fingers finally, lace with yours, and he looks down at your hands, “i want to do this right.”

you stare down at his hand in yours, and for a second, yeah, your heart stutters, betraying every ounce of pride you’ve tried to keep intact through this whole mess.

this is rafe we’re talking about. kook royalty, king of mixed signals, the guy who’s too proud to admit when he’s wrong, especially when his boys are watching. the guy smells good, he looks like sin, and he’s saying all the things you’ve wanted to hear since day one.

a few weeks ago, you’d have laughed at the idea of ever feeling anything real for him. you, a pogue with a mouth on you, and him, a kook with daddy issues and an ego bigger than his bank account. but here you are, letting him pull this romantic shit on you.

is he actually worth all this? you could do better; you know that.

you could have someone who doesn’t make you feel like an option, someone who’s not constantly forcing you to guess what the hell he wants.

the real question is, do you actually believe he’s gonna change? or is this just another moment of him saying whatever he has to so he doesn’t lose the convenience of you?

you huff, half-scoffing, half-sighing, because honestly, maybe he does sound genuine for once, and maybe a part of you wants to believe him so badly you could actually throw your whole life away. 

“prove it then,” you say it like you’re daring him. “day by day. if you’re serious, you’ll show me. and you’ll handle your idiot friends in the process.”

“deal.”

you raise a brown, “you’re not gonna think about it?”

he shrugs, “nothin’ to think about.”

you roll your eyes, because that line should be cheesy, but it lands. he really has no right to be this good at disarming you with a few well-placed words. and the worst part? he knows it. 

“can i kiss you?”

of course he'd say something like that. of course, after all the back-and-forth, the pushing and pulling, he’d just stand there and ask to kiss you like everything’s solved.

you sigh, tilting your head like you���re seriously considering it. "you think a kiss is gonna make me forget every dumb shit you did?"

he smirks, all cocky confidence, but he knows he’s on thin ice. “nah, but i figured it’d be a start.”

you almost hate him for making it sound so tempting, you wish it didn't feel this good to be wanted.

you shake your head, resisting the impulse to let him off easy, but how he’s looking at you… ugh. you can’t help it, you’re thinking with your pussy at this point.

"fine," you say, trying to sound annoyed even as your heart's practically pounding out of your chest. "one kiss, no tongue.”

his mouth actually drops open, and he's staring at you like you’ve just told him he can only have one fry out of the whole basket.

"no tongue?" he repeats, eyebrows practically hitting his hairline. he's doing this thing where his mouth opens and closes like he’s a fucking fish, "wait, please—what do you mean, no tongue?"

you only just manage to keep a straight face, because fuck, this is killing him, and it’s almost cute.

"exactly what i said," you nodd, crossing your arms with this wicked little smirk. "you wanted a kiss. you get one.”

he’s looking at you like you insulted his entire lineage, "c’mon, just a little tongue. you know you wann—"

“absolutely not,” you wrinkle your nose, laughing as you cut him off. maybe you do, but this is way more fun, watching him squirm.

“fine,” he groans, moving in close, the glint in his eye tells you he’s about to break all the rules the second he’s got you there. he leans in, almost sulking, and you feel him press a single, very tame, very tongue-free kiss to your lips, “so... no tongue later either? when ’m between your legs? 'cause i’d hate to break your rules.”

son of a bitch.

it’s useless to act unaffected when he’s looking at you like that.

“pull that shit again, rafe, and you’re getting blue balls for the next month.”

he looks scandalized, that smirk dropping as he watches you with wide, pleading eyes. “you wouldn’t.”

“play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

his jaw drops a little like he can’t decide whether to laugh or fall to his knees and beg for mercy. “you’re seriously cruel, y’know that?”

“course i do.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute

➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!

ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?

besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table. 

you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy. 

logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.

you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).

still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right? 

recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.

the conversations usually go a little something like:

“oh, you really don’t need to—”

“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”

it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously. 

while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances. 

tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it. 

you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?

the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way. 

the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out. 

he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things. 

“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:

“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”

“... wedding’s been canceled…”

“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.

“she was seeing someone else…”

“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”

he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”

“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”

“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”

“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”

“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”

he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.

“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”

“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again. 

then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter. 

the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.

there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.

his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.

“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”

“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”

after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.

“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”

“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.

“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”

“well, yes, but—”

“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”

“... you do?”

“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”

logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”

“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”

“although?”

“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”

“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”

you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”

“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”

“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”

“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?” 

you hummed, “of course, you can.”

even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.

you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”

“i thought you would never ask.”

tag list: @natsukitakama @fandomxo00 @wolflover-20 @dannsparrow @honestlysublimecherryblossom @acescutejeans-1247 @burkayyy @hotmesshobbit

[stvrnioloslvt]

quiet - Chris Sturniolo

fratboy!chris × jealous!reader

(dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

disclaimer: the following content is not suitable for an underage audience. please, if you are a minor do not interact in any way or form. thank you. check the trigger warning before reading, enjoy!

t.w: inappropriate language, unprotected sex (don't), a tiny bit of degrading language, jealousy, alcohol, I think nothing more.

a.n: soo...i'm impatient. i had planned to post this story on the 31st, once the poll ended, but i really don't like to wait that much. however, the results are clear: chris smut won with the 52.9%!

when you spot your boyfriend chris flirting with another girl at the Halloween party, you decide to take the matter in your hands and make him jealous thanks to matt. what you don't know, is that chris is keeping a close eye on you.

“i really don’t wanna go to this stupid party, nick.”

“i know, but you know what?” nick put his hands on my shoulders, a gentle yet firm grip. he looked at me in the eyes, then said “at least you look hot as fuck, and that’s all that matters. walk through those doors as if your pussy is made out of gold, and see what happens.”

i smiled at my best friend. with new-found confidence, i walked towards the doors, swaying my hips in my skimpy DCC cheerleaders white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. nick followed right through, adjusting the fake fangs in his mouth. he was one hell of a hot vampire. 

as we entered the halloween-decorated fraternity of our college, we were immediately pulled aside by matt, who was waiting for us right at the entrance. blue and purple lights caressed his face, creating weird shadows all around.

“fuckin’ finally! what took you so long?”

“are your eyes actually open? don’t you see how hot we both look? good things are always the last to arrive.” i chuckled as nick pulled me in a side hug to prove a point to his brother.

i eyed matt up and down one last time. even in the weird colored lights, i noticed that something was off. “wait, why aren’t you dressed up?” 

“cause i’m getting the fuck out of here, i was waiting for you two just because i don’t want to leave chris here under the influence without one of us to check on him.”

“he’s already drunk?”

“yeah, you surprised?”

i looked around, trying to find that dumb-fuck, with no luck. 

“c’mon, let’s get the party started!” nick grabbed my hand, pushing through the crowd of sweaty and dressed up people to get us to the drinks.

“do you want to drink anything?” he screamed loud enough for me to understand him over the blasting music. i shook my head, still trying to find chris. i picked at my skin, worry eating me alive: where the fuck was he? he was drunk, what if he did something stupid, or worse, dangerous?

then, i spotted him: hidden in the corner of the room with some random girl, running his hand through his hair held back by the headband of his basketball player costume. she was talking about something, and i could see clearly the strand of blonde hair that he was playing with twirling in his hand as he leaned on the wall, with the cocky grin of someone who believes that he has the world at his feet.

i felt a wave of nausea hit me, hands shaking by my sides. 

nick followed my gaze, spotting his brother. his hand stopped midway, the red cup never reaching his lips. “no way…” he whispered. weirdly enough, i heard that. 

just as i was ready to leave everything and get the fuck out of there, nick stopped me.

“let me go, nick, i don’t want to spend another second here.”

“absolutely not.”

“nick, please.” tears pricked at my eyes, making it hard for me to keep them back.

“i can bet you a hundred bucks right now that he’s trying to work you up. two can play that stupid game, y/n, and you've got plenty of people who've been eyeing you up and down since we arrived. go out there and get him back."

i took a napkin, drying my tears before they could fall and ruin my makeup.

an idea popped up in my mind. i turned towards the door, spotting matt, ready to leave.

"nick, quick, how mean would it be if i took revenge with matt?"

"honestly? a lot", he begun, pulling out his phone, dialling matt's number. "but you know what? i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. go do your thing, baby."

we watched as matt picked up the phone, turning towards us. nick told him to come to us before he left, and so he did.

"matt, go and dance with y/n. don't ask questions, we'll explain everything later."

matt looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, but he didn't complain when i pulled him through the crowd, right in the middle of the room.

"i'm sorry, matt, just a little payback to your dumb brother."

i briefly explained to him what happened, what we saw, and nick's idea, so that he knew what was actually happening.

"you know what? i need a tiny bit of alcohol in me, then we can truly give chris payback."

i watched as one of his friends brought him a red cup. he gulped it down, waiting for the alcohol to hit.

and when it did, we had the best night ever: we laughed, danced, twirled together. soon enough, everyone's eyes were on us, some were judging, others having fun with us. at a certain point i might have drunk something too, cause i found myself grinding against matt. and god knows how private we actually are around each other in our daily life.

i felt matt's hands travelling up my sides, pushing his hips against mine, making me feel his erection. i threw my head back against his shoulder as he placed wet kisses down my neck, hands squeezing me closer to him. soft breaths came out of my parted lips, losing myself in the moment: maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the knowledge that everyone does some dumb shit during halloween night and then act the next day like nothing happened, but i had a strong urge to grab him and kiss him, to feel his lips dance on mine, our bodies so close one another that they physically couldn't get closer.

just as i turned around, intoxicated enough to actually kiss him, a strong hand pulled me away from my friend.

"wha-" i turned around, welcomed by the sight of a pissed off chris: jaw clenched, eyes fixed on a spot in front of him, dragging me around the room, elbowing whoever dared to step in front of him.

i tried to free myself from his grip, pulling and tugging with all my might, but he didn't even bulge a tiny bit. "where the fuck do you think you are taking me-"

"quiet."

"chris i swear-"

"shut the fuck up," he growled. he dragged me up the stairs, stopping in front of a door. he opened it and pushed me inside.

he locked the door behind me, pushing me against it. his lips immediately found mine, kissing me roughly. it was an angry kiss, a forceful one. it was screaming vendetta, jealousy, hurt.

i tugged at his hair as his tongue made its way in my mouth. his hands gripped my hips, so hard that i was sure they would leave marks. he hooked his hand under my knee, pushing my leg up and around his waist. i tiptoed with the other leg, trying to gain a bit of height.

chris pressed his erection right against my pussy, grinding slightly to tease me.

"chris," i moaned, every little noise swallowed by his lips.

"such a whore," he growled, lifting me up. both my legs wrapped around his waist to steady myself, as my back hit the door behind me. from this new position, i could feel his tip pushing right at my entrance.

"you really had to go all out and fuck my brother, didn't you? such a needy slut."

"the only slut here is you, flirting with that little friend of yours."

he snorted, clearly pissed off at my comeback.

"you really have no idea of what is coming, ma."

chills ran down my spine at that threat, at his dark voice and blown out pupils. he had the look of someone ready to eat you alive, and that was probably his intent.

"how pathetic," he mumbled before ripping apart the tight fabric of my shorts, leaving me completely bare.

i gasped, trying to pull away. "my shorts!"

"oh please," he started, "they were covering nothing. you could walk out there like this and no one would notice the difference."

he pressed me harder against the door as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his dick to spring out.

"hope matt got you wet enough," he chuckled ironically, then pushed himself right in, to the brim.

a chocked out moan left my lips, as chris started thrusting fast and hard inside me.

"oh chris- fuck."

"yeah? feels good? bet matt couldn't fuck you like i do."

i threw my head against the door while i clawed at his back, his jersey stopping me from leaving marks all over his back.

"ngh- so big, chris...please," i whimpered, trying to adjust to his size and rhythm. chris's lips attached to my neck, leaving kisses all around. as his mouth travelled down to my cleavage, he started to bite and nip at my skin, making sure that it would bruise.

"fuck-," he pulled out, quickly putting me down and bending me over the desk right by the door. whose room was that, again?

he pushed himself right in again, gripping my hips. he pounded into me so hard that the desk was banging against the wall with every thrust.

the room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, moans and groans as the music resonated faintly.

"such- a whore, fuck!" i felt him shudder; his hand flew quickly at the base of his cock, squeezing slightly to prevent himself from cumming yet.

"you're fuckin'mine, got that? mine."

one hand grabbed my asscheek, slapping it right after. and then again, and again, until i was left trembling and crying, overstimulated from the pleasure and pain that he was inflicting me.

his thrusts grew sloppy and unsteady as he approached his release. "chris, please, please, i wanna cum so bad" i sniffled, gripping the desk until my knuckles turned white to ground myself.

"no."

"please-"

"you can hold it. you're not cumming until i tell you to."

i bit my hand lightly, trying to focus on his orders. but it was just so hard, and he was fucking me just so good, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, that i knew i couldn't last for much longer.

a low guttural moan escaped from chris's lips as my walls clenched around him hard, pushing both of us even closer to our orgasms.

with a particular deep thrust, he tipped over the edge, spilling inside me, filling me with his hot cum. he groaned relieved as he thrusted slow and soft inside me, riding the waves of his climax.

i screamed, unable to contain my orgasm anymore, shaking as i came down from my high. i whimpered, laying down on the desk, the cool wood making me shiver all around.

"good job, ma," he whispered, stroking my back and kissing my shoulder. "such a good girl f'me, hm?"

his arms wrapped around my waist, helping me up. i leaned into him, grabbing his jersey for support.

"was i too rough?" i shook my head, leaning back to look at him in the eyes. a question bursted out, unable to stay put anymore.

"who was that girl?" chris looked taken back by the sudden question, but he had no problem answering. he shrugged, "i have no idea, i just wanted to work you up. you always give your best with angry sex."

i looked at him flabbergasted, ready to actually pick up a fight. "chris i swear-"

"shush mamas, let's get you something to actually cover up, hm? don't wanna go out there covered in marks and with no pants on, right?"

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

yk what i should fly to the USA just to experience Halloween the American way, that shit seems so much fun i swear.

hope you enjoyed it! happy, spooky Halloween everyone!

love y'all,

-bree🎃🦇

MASTERLIST

[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna accidentally bumping into you at a café. *inspired* by this ask!

college sukuna masterlist

The bells right next to the front door chime when he enters the café. Today he’s distracted: the kitchen sink back at the apartment is currently leaking and he’s searching online for someone to come look at it. Not that he didn’t already try to fix it, but he doesn’t have the right bolt to repair it alone. He’s just going to order the usual, sit at one of the tables in the corner and play candy crush until Yuuji gets out of school.

He’s a regular here since his brother’s elementary school is right in front of it. Sometimes he just wants to kill time, and pastries here are good for his macros. Or at least he tells himself so.

“Hello, what can I get you?” A female voice asks him from the register. He doesn’t strain his gaze from his phone.

“The usual,” he says. Then he thinks about the familiar voice he just heard and snaps his head up.

“What are you doing here?” “Sukuna?” You both say at the same time.

His surprised face morphs into a smug one in a split second.

“Didn’t know you liked me so much that you started to follow me, baby. You could’ve just waited for me at home if you missed me that much, I would’ve made sure to put some cream in your… coffee,” he says winking at you.

You put on a fake smile before answering. His innuendos are getting worse by the day, he’s disgusting.

“I’m going to poison your coffee if you keep this up, Itadori,” you whisper, as to not make the manager hear you. “Go get some pussy, please, you’re insufferable,” you whine when he gets closer.

He looks you up and down, licking a corner of his lips, mischief still in his gaze. He knows you’re right, sometimes he does a bit too much, but the way you huff and puff brings him more joy than any game on his phone does.

“You know I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, Y/N. I don’t fuck snitches,” he responds, rolling his eyes.

You chuckle at that. This has been one of your inside jokes since the start. You managed to file 15 noise complaints in the first three weeks of your stay in the apartment, and the owner had to threaten to kick out Sukuna if he didn’t stop fucking girls so loudly. Sukuna had to agree and bite his tongue 5 times during that conversation. He knew you filed the complaints just because he didn’t want to say he was the one who ate Yuuji’s cookies, instead blaming you. Yuuji didn’t talk to you for a day for that, and you took it to heart.

Also, you exaggerated how many times he fucked inside the apartment. By a lot. You knew he had game, or at least you were certain of that seeing how confident he was, but he also hated when Yuuji managed to see some of the girls. Which happened only one time and it was when you moved in. You just filed noise complaints for every little noise you heard from his room, and seeing how the landlord didn’t doubt Sukuna had game either, you won by default.

“So… One black coffee? I don’t know your usual, I’m just covering a friend for today. It’s been a long day,” you say sheepishly, putting some of your hair behind your ear, cringing when you hear your own voice. Suddenly, the screen of the menu is so interesting to you. It’s not like you’re embarrassed as hell to see him here when you’re clumsily trying to understand how things work. It’s not like you’re trying not to look at him at all. Fuck. He is never going to let you live it down if you make a wrong move.

“I can see that,” he adds, serious. He sees your crestfallen look when he finishes his sentence. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that out loud, even if it is pretty obvious. He never saw you this nervous.

“Couldn’t you just fucking lie?” You grit out, composing yourself, pinning him with some sort of rage.

“Not my style, doll,” he answers, raising his shoulders. Your eyes turn into slits and you’re about to say something else when he catches movement behind the counter. The manager.

“Two coffees and a strawberry cake,” he says, getting back to his phone.

You raise an eyebrow. You thought he hated strawberries. You start typing his total when said manager turns to Sukuna.

“Your total is-“

“Man, I haven’t seen you in ages,” the man behind you enthusiastically interrupts you.

“Satoru,” the pink haired man nods, pocketing his phone and making some sort of special handshake with him. They know each other?

“Mind if your coworker here comes home with me?” Sukuna asks the handsome man you have next to you.

Your manager is silent for what feels like 10 long seconds. “Y/N, don’t give into this brute,” he tells you, staring at you behind those dark ass black glasses he wore the entirety of the day. He managed to do the work of three people without breaking a sweat, but he also spent most of his time tasting pastries the chef cooked. He’s nice, you think. But he’s weird as hell. No wonder they’re friends.

“He’s actually my roommate, boss,” you say, smiling up at him. Then you look at Sukuna and your smile drops. “Unfortunately.” Your said roommate flips you off.

“You know what, fuck you. I was just doing you a favour by letting you go earlier, stupid,” Sukuna says, bored.

The white haired man chuckles at the interaction, then tilts his glasses down his nose to look at the man in front of you, amused. “Oh, it’s her, huh.”

Sukuna snarls. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, he’s talked about me? What did he say? Is it enough to kick him out and ask for Yuuji’s custody?” you ask, mockingly. Your manager turns to you and you’re almost blinded by how blue his eyes are. You genuinely have to blink a couple of times to make sure you’re still able to see.

He completely ignores your questions, giving you a once over. Then he gets his glasses back on correctly.

“Go home, Y/N, don’t worry. You’ve done an excellent job today. Feel free to come whenever,” he says, giving you a smile as bright as his eyes, then leaves while you think about how your cornea must be damaged now.

“Off the clock, come on,” Sukuna says, taking his phone out again, not sparing you a glance.

“Why don’t you jump off of my dick instead,” you hiss, going to take your purse from the service room. You don’t see the way he tips you anyway, even if you didn’t ask, and takes his order to the nearest table, positioning the cake in front of him. Like he’s waiting for someone.

You get back out front and side eye him, rummaging through your purse violently before sighing defiantly. You forgot your keys.

You turn around to look at Sukuna, who is just a couple of tables away, jumping a little when his eyes are already on you. He gives you a confused look behind his cup of coffee, before putting it down and mouthing “You look stupid, come sit.” You raise one of your eyebrows and you’re going to flip him off when someone bumps into you.

“Yo, cutie,” the man in front of you addresses you. You smile politely and sidestep to the left, getting out of the way, but he follows your movement, positioning himself closer to you.

“I was wondering if you were free now that you don’t have that little apron on,” he tells you languidly, swiping your arm up and down with his hand, stopping at your shoulder. When you try to get it off, he just grips you harder.

“Get your hand off of me or you’re getting kicked in the balls in front of everyone,” you deadpan. He’s slimy, probably conventionally attractive for a lot of girls, but he’s creepy.

He whistles lowly. “I love it when they’re a little feisty,” he smirks, trying to get even closer. You’re raising your knee when he gets pushed off of you and you kick a strong thigh instead. You widen your eyes comically and the man you just kicked winces.

“Man, what the fuck-“ the creep starts, before getting interrupted.

“Don’t touch my girl,” Sukuna seethes. The man takes a step back. Your heart skips a beat. You didn’t think he’d come to your rescue. “Even if her kicks are strong as fuck, I gotta say that. I might have unfortunately just saved your sorry ass’ future sad child,” he says, glancing at you. You giggle.

“There’s no way a fine thing like that is with you,” the man continues blabbering, albeit scared of Sukuna’s imposing feature.

“There’s no way a fine thing like me could ever be with someone like you, you mean,” you say, standing closer to Sukuna.

The man scoffs. “You could do so much better.”

"You? Lying is a sin, motherfucker."

On cue, Sukuna raises one of his arms and drapes it over your shoulder. You’re surprised by how delicately he gets you closer to his body, like he’s thinking you aren’t going to like what he’s doing. You look up at him, laying your hand on his chest, giving him the okay. He stares down at you, swallowing.

“Yeah, I’m lucky,” he says thickly, smirking, before lightly kissing your forehead. The kiss is barely there, you wouldn’t even have felt it if right now you weren’t hyper aware of how intoxicating and warm his body pressed to yours feels. You think you might have a fever from how much the spot he grazed is scorching. Your ears are buzzing, and you don’t distinguish the words the two men are exchanging, getting out of your daze only when the creep exits the cafe with his tail between his legs.

“I didn’t need you, you know,” you say to Sukuna, still looking up, letting your hand fall from his chest. Fuck, he’s ripped.

He nonchalantly gets the bag your manager (grinning behind his hand) is passing him before escorting you out. You notice he didn’t get his arm off of you, and you realise you don’t really mind the soft weight of it. Or maybe you just don’t mind being close to him. Or maybe you don’t mind him at all.

“Now you can tell Yuuji how fucking cool his brother is,” he shrugs, getting you imperceptibly closer to him. You roll your eyes, whining, while he huffs out a laugh.

Back at home, Sukuna goes to take a shower, leaving you with a yapping Yuuji. He’s telling you about his day at school and you get your phone out to read the text you just received, noticing the ping sound.

Worst roommate ever: the cake is urs. eat it. or don’t. idc

[muscleloverz69]

A Raw Deal

To a normal person one of the fae might appear human. In fact it is nearly impossible to tell the two apart. The only difference is the fae are always extremely hot. One of the most important rules of dealing with the fae is never make a deal. Unfortunately, Brian had no idea Nick was anything but a young vendor at the music festival. 

All the food looked so good to Brian and he was so hungry, too bad he realized he was flat broke once he reached the front of the line. He looked up from his empty wallet at Nick to apologize and completely froze. Brian had always been completely straight but even he could admit Nick was one of the most attractive men he had ever seen with completely chiseled features, perfect lean muscles that complemented his narrow waist and thick upper thighs spread out in his seat. Nick smirked “Hey dude, you good?” 

“Oh yeah sorry I’m flat broke my bad I’ll step out of line.”

Brian was so flustered he completely missed the predatory gleam in Nick’s eyes. “Bro don’t even worry about it, I’ll make you a deal help me out in the back for a couple hours and lunch is on me.”

“Wow really, thanks!”

“Of course! The only rule is you can’t eat until we’re done or it’ll mess up my inventory count.”

Brian was so hungry but he knew he could struggle through a couple hours for a free lunch, so he nodded and followed Nick into the tent behind the counter.

The moment Brian entered the tent he felt his stomach cramp up, the most delicious smells of pies, cookies, and sandwiches were coming at him from every angle.

“So, I really just need you to stay here for the next two hours and make sure nobody sneaks back here and eats anything.”

Brian could only shake his head in agreement and watch as Nick walked away admiring his full ass move as he did. He rubbed his eyes trying to snap himself out of it. Brian had never so much as looked at a man in his entire life but maybe the hunger and partying from the past couple days was getting to him.

Not to mention Brian was a little sex-starved. It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Some would definitely think he was cute but it was always in a twinky nerd way. He looked nothing like Nick who was already occupying more space in his mind than another man should.

The first hour wasn’t easy, but Brian just tried to ignore the food around him and relax. He didn’t notice Nick peek through the entrance. Nick was starting to wonder if Brian would make it the full time and decided he needed to turn up the challenge. Nick walked back into the tent holding a large pizza. “Hey, this came a little early its for after you’re done working but it might be a little cold by then.”

Nick shrugged and walked back out. Brian sweated it out for a few minutes before finally stuffing his face with the pizza. It only took a few bites before Brian could tell something was wrong. First he felt a burning sensation on his arm, then in big letters NICK was written in black on his arm. He found himself frozen unable to move at all.

Brian stood there unable to move for the next few hours until it got late. Then Nick walked in with a wicked smile across his face. “Hello Brian, so it looks like you couldn’t wait to eat. Unfortunately, that means you are now my servant.”

Nick snapped his fingers and Brian found myself able to speak but my feet were still planted to the ground.

“WHAT. I don’t understand I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself.”

“Brian, it’s quite alright. These things happen you’ll come home with me and the details of your contract will be provided shortly.”

Nick walked forward to Brian wrapping his muscular arms around his waist. Nick brushed under Brians chin forcing them to make eye contact. Nick leaned in their lips brushing against each other. “We are going to have fun together.”

Brian woke up in a large bed sore and confused. As he looked around his eyes landed on a man. He was an attractive guy, large boulder shoulders and beefy pecs that shadowed over him.

“You’re up,” the man walked over to him.

“My name is Jock how do you feel?”

Brian shook his head confused, “your name is Jock.”

“I don’t think it was always Jock but that’s what master said it is now.”

It was then Brian glanced down at his arm to the letters NICK and remembered what happened. Jock went on to explain that Nick was a fae and had tricked the both of them into becoming his slaves. They were now magically forced to do anything Nick asked. 

“Really anything master wants you’ll do, become, or believe,” Jock sat down on the bed. “I didn’t always look like this but this is what master wanted for when he has fun with me”

Brian was in disbelief at what a quick turn his life had taken. “So what can I do? I’m not gay and I don’t want to be owned.”

Jock shook his head “There really isn’t anything you can do, my only advice, Master offers everyone the same deal…take it.”

It was then the door swung open. Nick walked in to the bedroom shirtless, his tight muscles reminding Brian of some predatory cat. “Jock thank you for watching our new guest, you can go.”

Like that Jock was gone. Now it was just Brain and Nick.

“So Brian I trust Jock filled you in. Now its time to make you more suited for my home. First I value fitness so grow your muscles for me.” 

Brian hardly had a chance to be confused before he felt his stomach ache and looked down to see a set of cobbled defined abs. He suddenly felt much wider as his shoulders and back spread. His pecs began to balloon and his biceps thickened.

Nick smiled as he closed the distance between them. “Now you look tasty.” 

Nick kissed Brian pushing him backward on the bed. Brian opened his mouth to say something but Nick cut him off “You will participate and try to please me.”

Brian quickly got the message and allowed his lips to part for Nick’s tongue. Brian tossed his own shirt on the floor. Internally he was screaming, I’m not gay, but he couldn’t help but try to make Nick happy.

Nick groped Brian’s new arms before cupping his face. “Now time for a few more things. First Brian doesn’t quite suite you anymore, I think from now on you’ll be Thad and you can forget it was ever anything else.”

Thad was confused. Wait wasn’t his name always Thad. Was that right?” 

Nick interupted Thad’s thinking, ”The only thing is that name isn’t known for being intellegent so let’s dumb you down and make you a little more bro-y”

Thad felt a relaxing fog descend on him, he didn’t mind it. “Bruh that kinda feels sick.”

“Now just one last thing. I offer everyone this deal, now it’s your turn. You will live hear forever but if you agree to become gay I will make you happy to be here. Then you’ll have as much fun with our encounters as me. I could just make these changes myself, but honestly it’s no difference to me how you feel and the choice is more fun.”

Thad felt confused. A feeling he would probably have to get used to with his new intellect, but he needed to choose. Thad decided that if this was his new life he might as well enjoy it.

“Ok dude, do it.”

Thad felt it almost instantly. He was in the best place ever, and standing in front of him was the sexiest man he had ever seen. Thad almost lept forward, ripping Nicks pants off and began latching onto his cock. Nick gripped Thad’s new styled hair as his head bobbed up and down. Then Nick came. Nick chuckled Thad didn’t know it but the entire spell only would have lasted 24 hours then he could have gone home free, but now that he willingly drank Nick’s cum the spell was sealed forever.

Meanwhile Thad was in total bliss he was going to love being here with Nick and Jock.

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part four

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of the dinner brought on a conversation with someone you didn't expect.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, and a little bit of fluff (kind of)

─────────────────────────

The past few days felt like you were watching in from the outside. Not leaving your apartment on your days off like you normally would. Usually, you liked to be down in the bar while your friends worked, just to spend time with them.

But after that night, you can’t talk to them. Won’t talk to them. Benny set the whole thing up and didn’t give you any warning, or even ask you in the first place.

Now, back at work, you stay silent, not a single word being uttered to your coworkers.

“Y/n,” Benny’s voice comes out softly, cautious almost. As if talking to a wounded animal that’s about to bolt. Acting as if you didn’t hear her, you continue to shine the glass in your hands. Silently wishing a customer would appear in front of you and order something, so you don’t have to deal with whatever Benny wants.

A huff leaves her when she realises you’re ignoring her. “I need to talk to you.” Voice still soft, placing a hand on your shoulder. You harshly shrug off her touch, placing the glass on the bar top and pushing past her into the kitchen.

Footsteps follow closely behind you. “What, Benny?” You snap.

”I’m sorry, I just wanted to help. I thought if you just talked to them-“

”Stop. Just, stop.” Running a hand through your hair. “If I wanted to talk to them, I would have.” Turning away, taking a deep breath. “It should be on my terms.” A deep breath is released behind you. Footsteps scuffing, shifting on her feet. “y/n-“ her blue form appeared in front of you suddenly. “I am truly sorry. You’re right, It should be on your terms.”

Your gaze moves to the back door, “I need some air.” Eyes meeting hers. Understanding took over her features, a nod of her head, taking a step to the side. “Talk to me when you are ready. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or anyone else.” Waving a hand towards the doorway leading back into the main area of the bar. “But just know we’re here if you need anything.”

With a curt nod, you pull the door open, stepping out of the bar. Fresh air fills your lungs, and a deep sigh leaves you. Eyes flutter closed as the afternoon sun kisses your skin. Brows pulling together, mind unwantedly drifting to the thought of how you and your sisters used to bask in the sun after a long winter transitioned to warmer seasons.

Eyes open with a start as the cool breeze brushes your ankle. Glancing down, you find a smoky tendril swirling around your feet. You frown down at it. Lifting your gaze to find the owner, knowing his shadows don’t typically stray too far from him. But you find no sign of him, no feeling of eyes on you. No glimpse of large wings in the moving fae on the streets. The tendril moves up to your wrists, a gentle tug causing you to stumble forward a step. Seemingly pulling you, guiding you.

Arm moving to shake it off, but fail miserably, the little thing intent on moving you in a certain direction. “Go away.” You mumble. “I’m sure he doesn't want anything to do with me.” Voice hesitant as it tightens around your wrist softly. Tugging you forward once again. With a sigh you decide to let it pull you away.

Footsteps carefully along the uneven stones of the streets of Valaris. It doesn't take you long to realise what direction it was pulling you to. The townhouse. You stop in your tracks, harshly pulling your wrist away from the shadow. “No.” You growl. The dark tendril moving to brush against your face, trying to comfort you.

A sharp breath leaving you. Running a hand down your face. Why is this happening to me? The question crosses your mind, rubbing your eyes almost aggressively, turning on your heel, and planning on making your way back to the tavern.

Only a few steps forward you run head-first into a hard wall. No. Not a wall, a person. Cheeks blazing, pulling your hands from your face. “I’m so sorry-“ meeting a familiar pair of hazel eyes. Gaze widening as you take a hasty step back. Eyes darting to the side, trying to find a way to escape the questioning gaze of the shadowsinger.

More shadows join the one swirling around you brushing your skin. A huff leaves the male in front of you. Meeting his gaze to find him frowning at them. “I’m sorry.” He mutters, his cheeks tinting a soft pink at failing to reign them in.

“It's fine.” You find the words leaving you without your permission. Your cheeks heat up in response. A silence settles over the two of you as you both avert your eyes. The quiet was surprisingly not uncomfortable but felt far too long.

It seems Azriel agrees with your thoughts, clearing his throat softly. You feel his assessing gaze on your face, reading you far too easily. “Are you okay?” He asks finally, almost gently, as if worried he’ll scare you off. As if finding something in the way you're standing. The way you refuse to look at his face.

You feel a cool brush of a shadow on your cheek. Hands quickly wiping your face. Feeling a slight wetness under your eyes. Rubbing your face as fast as you can, probably far too aggressively. When did you start crying? “I’m fine.”

Sidestepping him, trying to leave as swiftly as you can. “Do you want me to walk with you?” His soft voice was barely audible from how far you’d moved away from him. You glance over your shoulder, finding him looking at you tentatively. “Of course, it's your choice, but I thought you might like some company.” His wings twitch at his back. “Sorry if that offer is stupid. I shouldn’t have asked.” He hastily added on, taking a small step back, clearly expecting you to reject him.

It takes you a moment before you answer. “Sure.” Your answer is quiet and unsure. But after the past couple of days, you felt lonely. Azriel had been the only one to check in on you. Giving you a choice. Not expecting anything from you.

He gave you a curt nod before striding up to walk by your side. You turn, hands wringing as you amble along past some shops. A comfortable quiet settles between you as you slowly make your way in a different direction from the bar. Not wanting to be back there for a while. Not ready, despite it being halfway through your shift. Benny shouldn’t mind.

”I’m sorry for the other night. I shouldn't have said what I did.” A deep breath passed his lips. “You deserve to have time to decide what you want, especially after how we made you feel.” We? “No one should have made that choice for you. To show up out of nowhere, with no warning.”

a heavy breath leaves you. “y/n, you don’t deserve any of this.” You find you've made your way to the Sidra. Stopping by the bank. “Az-“ frowning from the weight of his statement. “Azriel, you’re the only one who didn’t forget.” Your eyes meet his hazel ones as you pull a necklace from the collar of your shirt. His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, but his shadows fluttering around his wings gave him away.

“I could tell it was from you, despite not being told.” The steely blue stone in the pendant glimmered in the late afternoon sun. “The look on your face that night told me enough.” Gaze drifts to the glittering water of the sidra as your mind drifts back to your outburst. Internally wincing at the memory.

The feel of his stare burns through your skin. You tuck the necklace back under your shirt before meeting his gaze once again. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to them.” His voice filled with subtle regret. A quiet humourless laugh escapes you. “They should have remembered on their own.”

”Still, you deserved to have a nice birthday.” The sincerity in his tone tugged at your heart suddenly. “Thank you.”

His mouth opens then closes as if unsure if he should say his next words. “Nyx misses you. He keeps babbling about his aunty.” A quiet humour in his voice. A snort leaves you. “I miss him too.” Your lips pull down, eyes lowering to the ground.

You hate that you miss the rest of them. They don’t deserve your forgiveness. You know that, but they are still your family. Azriel somehow seems to know where your thoughts slipped to. “They don’t expect your forgiveness. They know they don’t deserve it, especially not anytime soon. They made the mistake of thinking you needed all that time. Not realising how that made you feel.” His body turns fully towards you. “They didn’t forget about you. They’re just upset with themselves. I promise I’m not trying to make excuses for them. Or myself.”

You meet his gaze, giving him a small nod as you process his words. The pink tint that blankets the scene around you makes you realise how long you've been talking. “I should get back to the bar.” A nod of his head as you turn back to the street.

He stays by you the entire walk back to the tavern. No words passed between you. The weight of your conversation running through your head.

He stops a couple of steps back from you as you stop outside the bar. Heading towards the stairs to your apartment instead. Your shift is already finished anyway. A few steps up, you turn, “Thank you Azriel.” He dips his head. “I needed that.” You decide to add on before turning away and making your way up the rest of the stairs.

─

Azriel watches you close your door behind you, then turns to leave, towards the river house.

The look on your face as you talked lingered in his mind the entire way back. The heartbreak, the tears in your eyes. A subtle sense of pain and sadness pulls in his chest. His shadows swarm his ears, whispering your words in his ears repeatedly. Your voice echoes with each word they utter.

Finally standing in front of the house, his family’s voices drifting through the open windows. Far quieter than they were three months ago. The heaviness of your absence straining each of them. Your sisters are still unsure how to handle it. Guilt weighing on every single one of them.

He hopes you’ll forgive them with time, but he’d understand if you didn’t. Your conversation makes him understand you need company, he’ll be there if you decide it's his company you want. Hope fills him, he’d be grateful if you did want that. He shakes his head, shoving that hope away. He doesn’t deserve it.

Shuffling up the pathway to the front door, softly pushing it open, stepping inside, finding himself feeling lighter than he has in months.

─────────────────────────

a/n: I actually hate this. It didn't come out how I wanted. I'll probably end up changing and fixing it later on. There may be some spelling mistakes, let me know if you find any. Its slowly but surely coming together. More confrontation to come, as well as more romance lol. I hope you like it regardless. <3

[gotham-daydreams]

Falling into Place

Day 2 {Challenge Masterlist}

It was a simple question, a simple conversation. However, this is obviously bigger than they think.

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of suicide, cults, occult like activities, death, blood, poisoning, violence, brief descriptions of fighting, descriptions of suicide.] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)

Sorry for the huge delay! Got hit with a bit of burnout at the worst moment... whoops!

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

It was well into the morning when Bruce was just about finishing up whatever personal research he could gather. By the time Duke was heading out, Bruce was still by the batcomputer, trying to gather all he could on his own - and though he didn’t learn as much as he’d like, he knew enough to tell Duke to keep him posted on any activity he ran into during the day.

Again, Bruce wasn’t able to gather much, especially since the group themselves didn’t seem to have an official name, but based on what he was told the previous night, he had just enough to find what he could with a group that supposedly had no name. One thing he gathered is that they were more active in the day, but even then, they weren’t exactly known for grand or flashy displays - working and tampering in more odd and underground areas, which explains how they managed to slip past him for a while. Though, what he still couldn’t get was when, exactly, they arrived in Gotham, and when they seemed to leave Metropolis. That was one of the more important questions Bruce had wanted to answer, but, again, no luck.

It was then that Bruce had a choice. He could either keep going at this by himself, and risk spending more time than necessary on just trying to gather information when this cult was out there, doing god knows what in his city, and striving to achieve… well, whatever their end goal is - or he could ask for help, and potentially get things moving along faster so he can handle this quicker and much more efficiently.

There are countless reasons why Bruce didn’t want to make that call, a big one was that he didn’t want to involve more people into what was clearly a Gotham problem. These were people he was dealing with, humans, he’s supposed to be able to handle it on his own. That’s what he does. That’s what he’s supposed to be doing. Yet, if those in the manor with him now couldn’t sense anything… not even Cassandra and Damian… something was wrong. Not to mention that there was just a weird feeling Bruce was getting from all this. It all felt off in a way he didn’t know how to explain.

So, reluctantly, Bruce makes the call - but not after a few minutes of staring at his phone, and brooding.

In his defense, it was too early for something like this… for him, anyway, seeing as it was only ten o’clock.

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

When Clark came over, it was Alfred who greeted him, and let him in. The butler swiftly led the super to the batcave, and offered tea along with some biscuits and other things Alfred had prepared that morning as they walked. Of course, Clark took Alfred up on his offers, and when he reached the batcave, he had finished his tea, and had a few crackers in hand.

There, as usual, Bruce didn’t bother with greetings or formalities, and instead got straight to business.

“Tell me everything you know about this cult.”

Clark had to take a small moment to swallow down the cracker he had been chewing on just as he walked in, “Which one?”

Bruce exhaled heavily, “The one that came from your city, to mine.”

Now, that made Clark pause in his movements. Taking a breath, he took a few steps forward, and got more situated within the confines of the cave. “They came here? I mean- I heard them start to move, but I didn’t think they’d settle in Gotham too,” Clark admits, looking at Bruce, clearly concerned.

Bruce furrows his brows at the response, “‘too’? They went to other areas-?”

Just before the question could fully escape the detective, Duke’s commlink buzzes to life.

[“Uh, Signal, reporting in.”] Bruce looks over to the computer, shooting a glance at Clark before bringing his full attention to Duke.

“Anything come up?” He asks, hearing a short huff on the other end.

[Collecting his thoughts, Duke takes a moment before saying, “Beside the usual small fry, there’s nothing to report. Some guys just tried to vandalize the library and wreck the place, buuuuuut I don’t think that there’s much else-”]

“Have any bakeries or floral shops been attacked or stolen from? Maybe a grocery store, or something like that?” Clark suddenly chips in, now paying more attention to the screens too, “Something like a large pot, a whole shopping cart or basket of food items?”

[“Oh- okay, um, another flower shop was stolen from, and some guy was trying to steal another pot of, uh, what did the guy call them- irises? And someone was trying to break into the greenhouse- but even if I was able to stop them, someone must’ve snuck in during the night or earlier this morning before my patrol, since whatever virus that other place had got there too. And y’know how things are taken care of in the greenhouse, there’s no way something like that got there naturally and got so bad-”]

Clark’s brows furrowed, and he caressed his chin, deep in thought, but a strange detail was evident - he was nervous.

Noticing a change in the super’s demeanor quickly, Bruce asks, “What’s wrong, Clark?”

Not getting a response right away was suspicious enough, and the longer Clark took to say anything, the worse Bruce felt. Narrowing his eyes, the vigilante continues to inspect his friend - as if he could catch what was wrong before Clark could put it to words.

The super was tense and on edge, that much was obvious. Looking noticeably disturbed, almost pale - Bruce knew that whatever Clark was thinking about, obviously wasn’t helping - but that was the thing. Was Clark thinking about something, or did Duke’s response spark a memory of some kind? After all, from what Bruce could gather, he’s been dealing with this group for much longer, and if the earliest, possible headline he could find was anything to go off of - the super has been dealing with this group for a couple of months at the very least. About five if he had to give a specific number. It wasn’t a long time, but it was more time than Bruce, and that was the biggest difference. Clark knew the group, Bruce didn’t. Not yet.

Yet whatever the super was recalling now clearly disturbed him, and Clark was getting worse by the minute.

“Clark, talk to me-”

[“OH! Uh, Hi? [Last Name], right? What’re you doing here-?”]

That seemed to snap Clark out of whatever trance he was in, and draw Bruce’s focus away from Clark for the time being. The single mention of that name caught both of their attention - but for two different reasons. One out of familiarity, and the other out of slight suspicion.

“They’re awake at this time-?”

“Officer [Last Name] is with you, Signal?” Clark asks, tone a touch lighter now, his complexion becoming a bit better - and Bruce had to wonder if it was because Clark knew the officer, or something else was going on between the two for the super to act in such a way. Was it a matter of a simple, brief distraction? Or was there some history here that Bruce didn’t know about?

Something bubbled in Bruce’s gut, and he looked back to the screen once again. Nothing about this felt particularly good, and there was that sense again, of convenience. He wouldn’t call it easy per say, no, it just all felt too… simple. Like they were being led down some kind of path. Like he was being guided down a certain train of thought, or being purposefully put on some kind of path. By who, or why, Bruce doesn’t know yet, but he will. He always finds out.

Regardless, just sitting here and thinking wasn’t going to do him any favors, and frankly, he was wasting time - everyone was, and you seemed to be conveniently tied to this case too, so he might as well take this opportunity while it’s given to him. If this turned out to be some kind of play, or was another means to set him on a certain path… well, he has a few cards to play too. The house always wins, and Bruce practically owns this place. This is his territory, and no one can trick him while on his playing field. No one.

“Bring [Last Name] to the manor.” Bruce says, suddenly cutting into the conversation Clark and Duke were having.

[Duke is shocked into silence for a second, before he quickly recovers and utters a small, “Are you sure?” Which, yeah. While Bruce always seems to know what he’s doing, the young vigilante couldn’t help but hesitate and feel unsure. Was that the best idea? And even then, why did Bruce want to see you? Duke feels like he’s missing something here.]

“Yes, now, send them over, Duke.” After getting a reluctant ‘alright,’ in response, the connection is cut, and Bruce turns to look at the super standing beside him - who looks at him curiously and a bit confused.

Straightening out his posture, Bruce only says, “Clark, meet me out in front, and leave the glasses here.”

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

Arriving at Wayne Manor felt strange enough, but being guided there and given a ride by one of Bruce Wayne’s supposed adopted children felt weirder. The building practically loomed over you, and sure, you were used to the feeling since you came from the city, but something felt different about it now as compared to every other instance before. Like even the shadow it casted over you held a deep secret.

Honestly, something like this was bound to happen, but to be here now, and actually at the foot of the door leading into the manor? Well, you could certainly understand why so many people feared the Waynes just as much as others respected them. The building certainly reflected the people it housed incredibly well, almost unnervingly so.

Regardless, just as you didn’t think the situation could get any stranger, just as you were about to knock on the door, a gust of wind blew behind you, and you felt an all too familiar presence as the wind settled. It was only then that you decided to ring the doorbell instead, and straightened yourself out as you made small fixes to your attire and appearance.

“Didn’t expect to be seeing you here, Superman,” You greet, glancing over you shoulder to look at the superhero, who floated in the air beside you before deciding he had enough of the air, and touched the ground with practiced ease. One can’t help but wonder just how long it took him to land in such a way that didn’t shatter the earth beneath his feet upon impact, but, ah, those were questions for another day, perhaps.

Giving you that bright, charming smile he was known for, the hero nods, “Mr. Wayne gave me a call too, but honestly I’m a little surprised!” He chuckles casually, the gesture just as broad as his frame and smile, “It’s good to see you though, [Last Name], some of the officers miss you back in Metropolis - and some other folks too. You must be incredibly social to have so many friends!”

At that, you give a small shrug that matches the hero’s tone, “I have a big family, y’know? And it never hurts to be friendly, especially with so much trouble around, y’know?” You give a chuckle of your own, though it’s more light, and kept a touch low, “Though, it’s a little funny, honestly.”

Superman gives you a curious look, “What is?”

You give a smile of your own to the hero, “The fact that a man like him, can get someone like you to call him ‘Mr.Wayne’ instead of just ‘Bruce’.”

He raises his brows, and snickers a little himself, “Really? Well… I guess it is a little funny when you put it that way, but what makes you say that?”

“Hm, let’s just say I had the impression you two would be closer than that.”

Before Superman could ask you any more questions, the door is finally answered, and you’re greeted with the sight of a butler. Your attention immediately shifts to the older man, who you greet with a simple smile as you look away from the hero. ‘This must be Alfred Pennyworth. Honestly, he looks better than I thought - much healthier too.’ You think to yourself, and are subsequently proven right when he speaks.

“Sorry for the delay, Master Bruce is ready for you two now. Please, come in,” the words fell out of his mouth with a certain grace that couldn’t be ignored, and the voice he had just naturally commanded attention - holding elegance, authority, and yet in a way that none of it felt impolite or rude. All things that you didn’t see very often, and suddenly, you found yourself liking this ‘Alfred’ character more and more by the second, even if you had only met him today.

Still, you wave off his words, “Please, there’s no need to apologize, the wait wasn’t long at all,” and step inside while half way through your sentence. Superman follows in right after you, agreeing and saying something similar. It was small, subtle, but you could help but sense a feeling of familiarity between the two interacting, but brushed it off. Now wasn’t the time to focus on such things, and besides, you couldn’t waste this opportunity, could you? After all, it’s not every day someone is given the chance to just waltz into Wayne Manor - and you were lucky enough to be given such a chance. Really, you almost felt honored.

Moving on, Alfred led both you and the hero through the gigantic building, and eventually stopped just before a room. Once Alfred opened the door, you took a brief look around, and hummed, a bit impressed. For something that you assumed to be akin to a common room, or sitting room of sorts, it still looked very well furnished and taken care of - but having a lot of money certainly help with that, even if you’ve heard that Alfred is the only servant at the manor. He must be a very skilled and particular man, but still, it seems odd to see only one butler no matter how capable he is - that couldn’t be very efficient, could it? Hm.

Nevertheless, it took little effort at all to spot Bruce Wayne in all of his glory, and to your slight surprise, he didn’t look like he had just rolled out of bed - though, even for small, sudden invites like this, a celebrity must keep appearances, you suppose.

He gestures for you and Superman to take a seat, saying to “Make yourselves at home,” to which, you both promptly do so and take a seat to the couch opposite to Bruce with a comfortable amount of distance between the three of you.

You let Superman ask, “So, what did you need us for, Mr. Wayne?” since it seemed to make the most sense to have him ask instead of yourself. While he does so, you take the time to get a bit comfortable. Leaning back against the cushions, crossing one leg over the other, and taking the cup of tea that’s offered to you when Alfred comes up next to you with the tray.

As you take a sip of the tea while it’s still hot, Bruce simply replies, “Ah, I guess I should’ve offered some kind of explanation beforehand, my apologies .” Offering a carefree smile, and you had to give him some credit, for someone with a reputation like his, he does little to disprove any of the rumors you’ve heard. Though, maybe that’s a little rude - seeing as he’s only just spoken. “I’m also sorry for the short notice, but- you see, I’ve heard that something is going on in Gotham, and I’d like to hear all about it from those that seem to know the most about it!... From what I’ve heard, anyway.”

Now that makes you raise a brow, hm.

You’re plenty aware that Bruce Wayne may as well own the city, and it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest he likes to keep up to date on what’s going on, more so than him knowing to reach out to you and Superman. The group has been careful, and yes, while it makes sense for Bruce to have connections to people who could inform him of anything going on anywhere - and he certainly has the wealth to manage such a system - you still can’t help but be curious as to why he asked for you. Did he know the group came from Metropolis? That explains why you and Superman are here, but how did Bruce know that? How?

You pull the porcelain cup away from your lips. Now he’s really got your attention.

The most obvious question comes to mind first, “Where you’d hear that from, if you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Wayne?”

The wealthy man chuckles, a sort of naturally charming smirk growing on his face, “I have my ways,” of course someone like him would say that, “and, please, call me Bruce- ‘Mr. Wayne’ was my father.” With that, he took a sip of… what you assumed to be coffee by the faint smell. Curious.

“It’s fine, I insist,” your smile grows a bit before you move the conversation along, already getting a feel what was at play here, “anyway, what would you like to know, and about what, Mr. Wayne?” The huff that escapes him at your ‘insistence’ is incredibly amusing to hear, but you see he just brushes it off, and also decides to leave it be.

“Very well then, I’m sure you’ve seen it- or at least heard of it, officer, but…” Bruce goes onto explain the little he can, and though he is only able to vaguely describe what he means, you know what he’s talking about, and Superman seems to as well. Though, curiously enough, he asks you for details first.

Of course, you insist that Superman is more than suitable to give basic details, but when the hero himself insists, well, it doesn’t take much for you to relent.

When told to start from the beginning, you just say how originally there was a call about some loud and strange noises coming from someone’s neighbor, so, being the officer closest to the building, naturally you were put to the task to deal with the problem. The only thing was that, when you got there, well, the sight was gruesome, and when you finally got the door open thanks to a stray shot someone had taken - well, they were just about finishing up. You stated how originally you thought you had walked in a group suicide, and didn’t think anything else was going on until a similar instance popped up, and then another, and another. How, before you knew it, you were following a loose, bread crumb trail of similar situations that had the same outcome once an outsider arrived at the scene.

“Really, no one knows what it was, at first,” you try to explain, “but, again, before you know it, we’re trying to catch these guys before they even know we’re there, and find them doing these weird meetings, chanting, doing all sorts of rituals, and the like. They wouldn’t wear robes and do all of that cliche stuff- but they did all have some kind of marking somewhere on their person, nothing really seemed to connect the deaths besides the marking, and the most we could gather is that the place of the mark on a person’s body was symbolic to them. Though, that’s just a running theory. We haven’t had anyone able to actually confirm that yet.”

Bruce raises a brow, “Like… a similar injury or something? A symbol?”

You make a so-so gesture with your hand, “Yes, but it can differ from each person. It’s odd, but it’s like their way of showing some kind of connection, without making it too obvious that they’re all connected. Though, there are some similarities, like how the marking is carved into the skin, and represents a star or circle or eclipse of some kind.”

Superman agrees, adding, “I haven’t seen many of the symbols myself, but those I have did seem to show the sun in some way, but more often than not, it’s like they were trying to imply a blocked out sun.”

“Like a solar eclipse?” Bruce tries to confirm, brows furrowing.

“Yes,” Superman nods, though you notice how he starts to pale slightly. Hm.

From there, you go on and explain what you can - not going into full detail, but seemingly giving all the information you could provide, and to a civilian at that. With Superman chipping in every now and again, including some of what he’s seen and experienced on his own as well, which was… enlightening. More so than you thought when you originally saw him, but interesting all the same. Though, you do take note of just how little he’s giving as well. Most of his powers are no secret if you know who to ask, and just from that alone, you knew he wasn’t saying as much as he could, but didn’t press or even try to push. After all, you were just a police officer, weren’t you?

Regardless, the conversation goes on for a little longer. With you even mentioning how the group is normally separated, and each subdivision acts as their own entity despite reacting the same to being ‘caught’ and having very similar practices. Some will try to spread what they preach through acting as a church, and only letting in their most devout followers, to more lowkey approaches such as hiding what they’re really doing through parties, or college club activities, and so on. No official name is known about the group, and aside from the markings, similarities in practices, and whatever it is they preach, there is another thing that ties them together - and it’s arguably the biggest tie all the groups have to one another.

“It’s an event they keep mentioning, but no one knows what it really is. Considering their other… practices, everyones a little concerned to find out what it entails, but if you ask me, it could also be something they use to scare new followers- even if it sounds… well, for lack of a better term, ‘edgy’.” Bruce raises a brow at your words, and gestures for you to continue.

“Well… don’t leave me hanging, what’s the event called?”

“The Red Dawn.”

“... Do you have any idea what they even mean by that?”

“Not a clue, sorry, Mr. Wayne. Though, I doubt it’s anything to worry about. The only ones these people seem to be hurting is themselves, after all, and while I do intend to stop them and put an end to this, I doubt they’ll hurt anyone outside of their little ‘circle’.”

“Oh… alrighty, then.” Taking a sip of his cup, Bruce lets the information settle in before deciding to ask, “Do you think that could be the name of their group? Especially if they care about that ‘event’ so much, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume that, right? Not the most creative thing to do… but it makes some kind of sense, no?”

You offer a small smile, as if trying to reassure the man, “I highly doubt it. If that was their name, we would’ve known by now with the months that have passed, and besides, while that does seem to be an event they are focused on- I think it's only that. Just another small thing that just so happens to connect all the groups together or a name they go by as a collective, and even then it would suggest a kind of unity that we just don’t see in the group. As similar as they are, they are still divided. Well, from what we could gather, anyway.”

Bruce only gives a nod, “I see…”

With that, after a bit longer of conversing, you’re essentially let go. Bruce thanks you for the information, and sends you on your way, but not before mentioning a party he plans to host on Halloween with one last flash of a smile despite the conversation you just had, and Superman gives you a wave, saying he hopes to see you back in Metropolis soon, and to keep up the good work - but only when he’s essentially made to stay when Bruce says he has more questions to ask the hero. You don’t bother to question it, and just let Alfred lead you to the door - who wishes you the best of luck on the case, and to have a good day. Bruce Wayne was rich, you wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out he had some special relationship with half the heroes on Earth, but that wasn’t worth thinking about now.

Especially not when you noticed someone at the door.

“... Should I ask why a kid like you is trying to hide in his own bushes, or is it just some ‘teenager thing’ I don’t understand, Thomas?” At the sound of your voice, and the sudden call out, Duke tenses and practically springs to life all over again as he jumps and practically scrambles to keep himself straight. You raise a brow at the defensive stance he initially takes, but upon noticing you, the teenager eases, and lets out a sigh of relief.

Clearing his throat, he says, “Uh, hi, officer [Last Name]! I… didn’t realize it would be over so soon! Haha!” His nervous response gets a snicker out of you, which only seems to further his own embarrassment, and thus, makes you more amused.

Though, you spare him some of the torment and don’t openly laugh at him, and instead just ask, “What’re you doing out here, kid? Can’t you just head inside? Since, y’know, you live here?” You tease a little, resting your hands on your hips, “Or am I mistaken?”

Duke chuckles awkwardly at your words, straightening himself out, shifting in place a bit, “No- no, I just… wanted some air?” He didn’t sound too sure of himself, but you let the teenager be, and just gave a nod.

“Right. Well, enjoy the outdoors in the bushes, Thomas, I’ll see you soon.” With one last amused grin, you take your leave, and once again wave behind you.

Honestly, you thought you’d just walk off silently once again, but this time, a yell is heard from behind you after you hear some shuffling around and the sound of rustling leaves.

“Wait-! Uh- Thanks for the muffin and small snacks from yesterday! They were really good!” You hear Duke shout, “Have a good day!” He seems to mumble something under his breath, but you’re too far away to hear it.

Regardless, you just continue to walk, and soon shove both your hands in your pockets.

You walk away with a smile.

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

Back in the Manor, Bruce takes a long sip of his coffee, and looks over to Clark - who looks down at the cup of tea in his hands.

“So?”

The super runs a hand through his hair, taking a moment to respond, but even then he seems confused, almost distressed, “It lines up, but I’ll be honest, Bruce. I don’t remember half of what they mentioned. Even the half I did remember… some of it I could barely recall.”

The vigilante stops, becoming too still to pause, and yet not stiff enough to freeze as he just stares at Clark. It’s only after a few beats of silence, and setting his cup to the side that he’s able to ask the only sensible question to a response like that, “What do you mean?”

Clark takes another second, running his hand down from his hair, to his neck and rubbing the muscle there, as if trying to soothe himself before taking in a deep breath, “Y’know that church [Last Name] mentioned? Yeah, I tried to do some research of my own, and went in as a curious journalist who was just trying to see what the church was like, and so on- you know how it is. I got there for the first sermon, bright and early, but when the pastor started to talk… well, the next thing I know is that I’m outside of the church, the service ended, and it’s now night. I was there all day, but didn’t remember any of it. I even checked my notes and everything- nothing. Like all I did was just… sit there, and then leave after everything was done.” It’s then that he looks at Bruce, distress a little clearer now.

“Of course, I tried a few more times, but the same thing kept happening, and the only thing that changed was that I started to feel sick- just really… gross and horrible all over, like going to each service was literally draining the energy out of me- and I noticed it wasn’t just the church either. I’d try to help out with bigger cases that dealt with the group and sometimes I’d just suddenly end up somewhere totally different, with no memory of how I got there, or what I did during that time.” He takes a breath, caressing the fragile china in his hands, and he raises the cup to his lips, but doesn’t take a sip right away. Instead, he lets it sit there, barely an inch in front of his face. “It wasn’t so bad at first. Just a few seconds or minutes lost with nothing really being done- it was harmless, just a little disorientating at times, but nothing to really worry about. But then… then it got longer the more I tried to help and involved myself with solving the problem. I lost countless minutes, even hours, and ended up in areas with little to no memory of how I got there, and decided it was best to pull away when an entire week had passed, with me having no memory of what happened, what I did, or where I even was- which was hundreds of miles away from Metropolis.”

It’s only as Clark takes another sip of his tea, which is a little cold by now, does Bruce use that opportunity to speak. Not only to get to the bottom of this, but to help his friend with this as well - since it’s clearly distressing the super one way or another.

“Do you think it’s some form of mind control?” When Clark shakes his head, Bruce gives him time to gather his thoughts and explain.

“I’m… not sure. Naturally, I tried to not get as involved, but couldn’t let the group spread or- or let them do whatever they wanted freely, so I asked for some help and it had… varying results.” He takes a moment to sigh, finishing the tea as he sets it to the side, and tries to find a way to say what he was thinking, “Some of those who are nonhuman were like me- they’d start to feel horribly sick after a few days, and lose track of time, starting out in small amounts, and eventually jumping to days and weeks, the others… well, they were like our human allies.”

The vigilante’s brows crease at that, “... Which means?”

Clark scratches the back of his neck, looking away as he tries to gather his thoughts, “I don’t know how exactly to explain it- but after some time, they’d become… too interested in the case. Trying to get more involved with things then they needed to be, and basically became… well, I don’t know if there’s a better term to use, but they almost seemed obsessed with the group, Bruce. It was.. horrible to watch, and I guess I just want to say…” he drags on, not sure if he should add more or not, but his heart gets the best of him, and he sighs heavily. Looking back at Bruce, he continues, “Please, be careful with this. You and your family. I really mean it, please.”

Bruce takes a moment to look at his friend, and take in the concerned look on his face. This wasn’t the first time the super had expressed his concerns, but if there was ever a moment that felt like Clark would genuinely do something if Bruce didn’t listen, or really wanted him to take what he was saying seriously, since Clark himself knew how Bruce is and could be - this would be one of them. The super was always openly and naturally caring, even if he worried too much at times, but something felt different this time around, and that was saying something.

Still, Bruce could only nod after a sigh of his own, “We’ll try our best,” is the best he could give.

… A moment of silence passes. With Alfred taking the opportunity to refill Clark’s cup, and allowing Bruce to finish his. It’s a gesture, in a way, to let the super relax, and to remind him that if he needed a small break, then he was more than welcome to take it here - and Clark seemed to realize that as he let himself ease slightly. This whole thing had taken its toll on the super, that was obvious from how he’s been acting all day thus far, and the worst part of it all was that it wasn’t even over. However, there also wasn’t an immediate need to acknowledge that right now, and so, both men took in this little breather, knowing they’d have to get back to work once it ended - and when that happens, who knows when they’ll get a chance to breathe like this again?

It’s that very thought that makes it stretch on for just a little longer, lasting until Bruce is on his second cup, and Clark is nearly on his third - and only then is it broken when Bruce asks, “What were you talking about before, when you said you didn’t think they’d ‘settle’ in Gotham too?”

With one last small sip, Clark says, “A while ago, I heard some of the voices I recognized as members of the group were getting further away, almost spreading out. I couldn’t tell where they were headed exactly, but they just seemed to… disburse. Go their separate ways,” a brow of his furrows again as he adds, “I don’t know if anything caused them to move, or if the directions they went in and the cities they possibly went to, was some calculated move- but I do suspect it was an organized effort. For what? I couldn’t say, but more mentions of that ‘Red Dawn’ [Last Name] talked about earlier did pop up around the city for a day or two before anyone went anywhere.”

Bruce hums at the information, taking mental notes before asking, “Is it possible that some members might still be in Metropolis and other cities near there?”

The super thinks for a moment, but eventually nods, “I wouldn’t see why not, and I could check to find out as many groups as I can, and try to keep you updated on that end.”

“That’d be a big help, Clark. Thanks,” Bruce gives a nod of his own, and Clark smiles.

“Of course! Anything to help, Bruce.”

———————————————

Despite the morning that had transpired, the night was relatively normal - it was for Jason, anyway. If anything, it seemed to lack a little more action than it usually did, but hey, the night was still young, and in Gotham it was always too early to make that kind of call.

Regardless, Jason just went about his night. Taking out a few criminals he ran into here and there, staying out of sight of his old man and Cass, the usual. Nothing stood out, and honestly Jason was starting to think that nothing outside of the ordinary would actually happen. Though, that is until he notices some shady looking people sneak their way behind a building, and hears a garage door open from where he was standing. Now, what was going on there…?

“BOO!”

Just as Jason took a step forward, about to tail the shady figures, he felt a sudden weight on his head, shoulders - which caused him to stumble on his footing, and though he barely caught himself, the vigilante found himself irritated as he yelped out a, “WHAT THE HELL-?!”

Giggling could be heard above him, “Did I scare ya? Admit it! I got you that time!” The grin was even evident in her voice, and Jason didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“Get the hell off of me, Steph!” Jason hissed out instead, completely ignoring the fact he had ‘caught’ her on instinct, not wanting her to fall off and risk hurting herself with her reckless behavior.

“Aw, c’mon! I totally got you!” Stephanie said loudly with a laugh, only to yelp when she was practically thrown off of Jason’s shoulders, and even if she swiftly caught herself she still looked at Jason and huffs, crossing her arms, “Why can’t you just admit it? There’s no need to be so rude about it, y’know!”

Jason just scoffs, “You didn’t get me, okay? Just leave me alone, squirt.”

Stephanie, of course, doesn’t and sticks around - and as annoyed as Jason acts, he does little to actually push her away. The banter continues, and for a moment they are more than just two vigilantes, but instead, family in their own simple yet messy way. Both of their definitions of such a thing skewed, warped, and changed as they’ve grown up and lived through their lives, along with their definition of love, but now, something like that didn’t seem to matter. It didn’t, and even as they went after the shady figures Jason had seen earlier, it only seemed to matter less as the banter continued.

Dealing with crime in Gotham was always the same, and growing up on the streets made it easier to adapt to the different locations criminals liked to tuck themselves into - so much so that each location almost felt the same. The routine was familiar, sneak into the place, try to pick up on whatever was going on, and put a stop to it. Smugglers were common, nothing new, but what was curious was seeing how much of their supplies they had - guys must’ve been stacking up for weeks, maybe longer, but that didn’t matter. A trade of some kind was clearly going on, and as always, it was their job to figure out what was going on and to stop it.

Sticking to the shadows was second nature for numerous reasons, and the conversation they overheard sounded like the same one they’ve heard time and time again - seriously, did anyone ever think of something new to say? Or any other way to say things?

“You’ve got it?” “The load of it that was designated to us, yes.” “Is it ready?” “Yes.” “Are you certain?” “You know we can’t stall. Just take the load, and take it to the next destination.”

“Right.”

Just as the other spokes person made a gesture for the people behind them to gather the goods, that’s when the first strike was dealt. Stephanie had snuck up on a guy, and got things started, and as usual, the people pulled their guns - so Jason got to work.

Yet, just as he fired the first shot at someone’s shoulder, and they fired their own, did the vigilantes realize where the guns were actually pointed.

The criminals had their guns pointed at one another.

The shot Jason fired hit its mark, but so did the other as in one instance, Stephanie had someone in a chokehold, and in the next - there was no brain to send air too anymore. No eyes to roll back, and while the body went limp, what remained of the head was splattered on the young vigilante, and the space behind her.

More went off, and it took Jason a second too late to spring into action, and Stephanie a few more as the gunshots kept going off - and yet not a single bullet got close to her direction, unlike that first one. There was always a body in the way, and god, all she felt was sick. Though, when practically shoved to the side by Jason did she snap out of it a little, and try to save whoever was left.

They worked in a frenzy, trying to do what they could - even if Jason found out very quickly that just getting them out of the way wasn’t enough, as he heard a weird crunch come from the mouth of the woman he just saved, only for her to give a twisted smile before she started to seize, foam at the mouth, and he could do nothing as he watched her eyes roll to the back of her head but curse.

“DON’T LET THEM CLOSE THEIR MOUTHS! THEY’RE POISONING THEMSELVES!”

Oh, but Jason said it too late, as Stephanie also had the vial pleasure of watching the body seize and subsequently die in her arms despite her own attempts. They still tried, of course, because what else could they really do? Yet, the result was the same. It was like watching a massacre, except… well, the very people who died caused it.

All wasn’t lost as they were able to save two people out of the handful they had run into in the storage space, but at least it was something, right?

One of the criminals didn’t speak, and only glared at the vigilantes, while the other laughed suddenly as the two tried to catch their breaths. The man’s gruff laugh cutting through the deafening silence, blood now coating the walls, bodies lying about… how could anyone laugh at a time like this? Especially when his supposed comrades have just died right in front of him?... Not that the person glaring at them looks any more distraught or distressed at all by this turn of events.

When the man starts to speak, that sickened feeling Stephanie felt before grows, and a similar seed is planted in Jason’s gut - and that really said something, since they’ve heard maniacs go on all kinds of long winded rants unprompted… but this felt different. It lacked the sick humor of Joker explaining his schemes, or the thought and linguists put behind Riddler’s verbal puzzles, and just felt misplaced. As a pair, as vigilantes they’ve heard plenty of talks just like this, and yet… something about it stopped Jason from pulling the trigger early, or from either of them doing something to stop the man, and to just shut him up. Perhaps the sight they just witnessed was taking its toll on them now, but that coupled with this? This wasn’t just some run of the mill thing. This was deliberate, but wasn’t a trap either.

Still, the man goes on, even when his voice becomes hoarse as his vocals fight against the restraint put in between his teeth - just enough space to make him unable to not poison himself with… whatever chemical he had that’d do him in like the others who still had their heads intact. They strain as he wheezes out a laugh, actions rough for someone tied down, and left sitting on his ass. Just as his nails bloody as he scratches at his restraints, his own words scratch at his throat the more he speaks. So much so that instead of spit, blood flies out as he continues, going on about some higher being, how they’ve helped him see the light, and how just their presence alone has made him understand what ‘needs to be done’. How he knows they will guide him to a better end, because he can feel it when he’s close, that he is doing the right thing, and that they have become so connected with… whoever he’s describing, that even being in the city now satisfies him enough, and makes him see sense even in the most vial of situations.

It’s all nonsense, it has to be, of course it is - yet they listen anyway, unwillingly, unable to move, and he doesn’t stop. Will he ever?

“This world will experience a new beginning! A chance to be reborn anew, to be remade! And only by the best, as they are the only one who can be trusted with such a task!” The man’s laugh almost sounds like a bowl coupled with a growl at this point, “The skies will turn red, the night will vanish and be replaced with a light never seen before as we are all accepted into paradise! The sun will encapsulate the sky in a way it never has before, and reveal the true colors that the world has kept away from us! It will be one! We will be one! It was always meant to be one!”

Red runs down from his lips, and yet he continues despite the strain in his voice as his shouts become louder, practically booming in the small space, “The waters will churn like acid in the stomach, eyes will be drawn to the vessel who will bring upon the awakening of the world, and everyone’s hearts will be taken ahold of as they all come to realize that we are in good hands! Everyone should just accept the end for it is already upon us!” A wheeze escaped instead of a chuckle, but what it is intended to be is not lost on anyone.

“Just a few more measly days remain! Just a little longer and we will all be blessed with the sight of a new day! A new life! A new purpose! The Red Dawn w-”

Finally, it all comes to an abrupt end with one last gun shot. A shot, which goes through the man’s head, and pierces through it so cleanly, that it goes into the other person who was beside him, and drills a similar hole in their head - only stopping when it digs enough to crawl out of that second head, and land on the ground. The gleam of its shine almost innocent, as if it hadn’t killed the last two people who remained of the self-massacre - and now, it is only that. A complete, and utter massacre.

The shot brought both Stephanie and Jason out of the strange trance they found themselves under and tried to recover as quickly as they could. Jason sprung to action and tried to rush out and find whoever killed the people they tried to save- with Stephanie reporting to Bruce.

She tried to explain everything that had happened as hurriedly as she could, feeling sicker than ever and having to force herself to look away from the bodies, along the two new additions to the pile. Honestly, she didn’t even realize she had been hyperventilating until Bruce had her try to calm down, and take deep breaths - and yet every breath she took, she could only smell blood, earth, and an odd hint of something sweet that settled on the back of her tongue. Everything about it made her want to throw up, but she managed and tried to compose herself as much as she could.

When asked what was being smuggled, Stephanie looked over to the sacks stacked on top of each other neatly against the wall. Stepping over a few of the bodies, and trying to not look down more than she needed to - she took down one of the sacks and… what?

“It’s- it’s soil?” Why had these people killed themselves over this? There’s no way that this dirt could be worth dying over, right? Maybe it was a cover up. It has to be. It has to.

So, she cuts the bag open and soil spills out, except it looks… weird, “It- it’s either dirt or some weird moss, because there is no way this stuff is supposed to look this red.”

That does it for Bruce, and on his end, he quietly glances at Cassandra before looking out to the city once again, “Bring some of it in if you can, and bring Jason with you.” His voice is firm, and leaves no room for argument… as always.

[“Right, talk to you in a bit, B.”] With that, the connection is temporarily disconnected, and Bruce switches the lines, and immediately talks to Barbara again. Something about how while Superman is doing his search, they have to cover their own bases, and Barbara offers to call Dick to see if he’s run into something similar, and if he’s willing to help out here so they can get everything figured out faster, and Bruce lets her get to it would a simple thanks.

Cassandra can’t help but simply observe, curious as to what’s really going on, but getting a feeling that it’s nothing good. She can see that in the posture of Bruce, but it’s not just him - it’s the commissioner, the officers at the station, and so on. Yet kept so underwraps, that only does actively searching for it can feel it, as the civilians remain unaware, and go on with their lives. Though, something does bother her a little.

She didn’t see you much tonight, but when she did, you seemed just as tired and drained as you did the other night, and yet, there was no evidence of distress. Yes, there was some form of stress there, but you weren’t overly tense or even panicked, and while Cassandra didn’t know much, she could gather enough that something big could be happening. So why weren’t you more concerned? More… paranoid and just generally showed more signs of some inner turmoil like her father? You’ve been involved in this case for longer than he has, and yet… you’re the calmest one compared to everyone else. Cassandra can’t help but wonder why.

… Perhaps it’s about time she helped out in whatever was going on.

[nyxwanderland]

♡ drunken love

character → gojo satoru story → fluff, alcohol consumption, gojo is averse to alcohol word count → 0.7k

"...well, what do we have here?"

you and shoko had agreed to get a drink after getting off work to wait for your boyfriend to return from his mission to pick you up. things, however, did not go as expected when you suddenly announced a drinking contest to see who has better tolerance to alcohol.

you are able to tolerate great amounts of alcohol quite well. it is hard for you to get drunk easily.

but not as much as shoko, because you just miserably failed. completely wasted, your head slumped on the bar counter and a unfinished glass of some alcoholic drink.

now that he thinks about it, it is gojo's first time seeing you drunk. and boy was he enjoying every second of it. your drunken state is a sight to behold, and he can't hide his amusement.

gojo amusingly watches your inebriated state. he leans his head over your figure in order to meet your eyes, however, to his dismay, they are squeezed shut. he doesn't miss how rosy your cheeks look — he wants to squish them. "never thought i'd see the day when you would get drunk~"

he looks at the doctor as she gulps down a tall glass of beer in one go and he grimaces at the sight. it's not a secret that he doesn't enjoy alcohol — he always opts for drinks without it which contain enough sugar for anyone to get high.

"she started it," shoko speaks up before the man says anything. she jumps from the bar stool and pays for both hers and your drinks, grabbing a cigarette from her pocket. "i'm leaving."

now gojo is left with your extremely drunken mess. nevertheless, he smiles and gently places a hand on your back and nudges you a bit, in an attempt to wake you up.

"baby," he speaks tenderly. "come on, let's go home."

you flutter your eyes open at the movement, your vision blurry as you tried to adjust your senses. "mm— wha...?"

gojo resists the urge to squeal due to your adorable actions and chooses to flash one of his bright smiles. "it's me, sweet cheeks."

you scrunch your nose at the nickname, still unable to comprehend your surroundings. "only my boyfriend is allowed... to call me sweet cheeks..." your words come out slurred, the alcohol so deep in your system.

you try to focus on the blurry man in front you as you try to sit up, and push him away from your face who was too close to your liking. "go away... creep."

gojo cackles. he was enjoying this way too much. "it's me, your glorious blue-eyed, six foot three king! it's hurts that you forgot me."

your mouth opens to retort but you started feeling dizzy and sick. your body sways a little, unable to keep balance, and your hand rushes to your head to stabilize yourself. gojo notices the change in your demeanor immediately and takes no time in scooping you up in his arms.

"let's get you home." he walks out of the bar before you can even protest about him carrying you in the first place.

the cool autumn breeze hits your figure and you unconsciously snuggle to gojo's body for some heat, despite grumbling something about kicking his ass.

this time, your vision starts to clear out and now you are finally able to realize that the so-called mysterious, creepy man was your boyfriend himself. your eyes light up and so does your smile immediately.

"oh my god," you giggle and wiggle your legs. your face turns redder than they were before. "you're my 'toruuu~!"

gojo's heart swells at the way you're looking at him with such adoration. he leans in to kiss your lips.

only for you to turn your face away so he ends up pecking your cheek instead.

"hey..." he pouts, offended by your rejection. "what's wrong, sweets?"

you face him once again with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. "you can't kiss me... you don't like alcohol."

gojo sighs before smiling at you. "i don't mind if i'm tasting it from your lips. now c'mere, gimme three more kisses for turning me down like that."

i miss this man so much you don't understand

[purinfelix]

just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs

@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl

@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog

@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora

@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife

@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc

(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Let's balance out the end of kinktober with some toot-rotting levels of sweetness. We'll make up for it tomorrow!

CW: Afab reader w/GN language. Teeny tiny bit of smut. Short and very sweet!

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

What do you look like when you’re angry?

How do you grieve?

When you’re sad, do you shut down? Do you curl up in bed and heave sobs, or do you favor silent tears trailing down your cheeks?

Among others, these are the things Law wonders when he thinks about you. He wants to know you—to really know you. To be privy to your faults, habits, and your quirks. The things about you that no one else sees. Intimate moments of suffering along with the day-to-day.

Do you talk to yourself when you’re alone?

What does your hair look like right when you get out of the shower?

What’s your favorite time of year?

His heart contorts into alien shapes when he sees you. He clams up. You have no way of knowing the intensity of his emotions, the weapons of desire that his heart and brain exchange. The magnitude of your presence assails his senses, quickens his breath, stops his heart.

He’s well acquainted with the way you laugh and the way your lips turn into the smile that he looks forward to every day. He tries to act normal around you, and he succeeds. He succeeds too well, in fact, he’ll never have a chance with you until he does something out of the ordinary.

He stares sometimes. You notice that, at least. But you try to play it off.

Law can only tolerate so much anguish until it bubbles over.

When he works up the nerve to kiss you, his hand lingers on the small of your back. Your eyes are open from shock and you’re rigid. You’ve mused on how his lips feel, if his kisses along your jawline would tickle, if he would run his fingers through your hair. What would his fingers feel like entwined with yours?

But Law’s thoughts about you go deeper than that. He passed that point—the point of fantasizing about being intimate with you—months ago. He still indulges, of course. When he does, he’s fixated on what your face would look like pleasure-ridden and fucked out. How your breasts would feel in his hands.

The day that Law kisses you, he makes you blush first. He’s awkward, or, if not awkward, something akin to it. When he smiles at you, sits by you at lunch, and finds you in the some random corner of the ship later, he knows that today is the day.

The desire and ardent admiration are festering inside of him and he can’t take it anymore.

He wants to know what your skincare routine is and hear your scratchy morning voice. He wants to wash your plate after dinner, to treat you as nicely as you deserve. He wants to give you the world, but your lips haven’t even met yet.

When they do, the world fades away. You melt into his embrace; rigidity dissipates when you realize that he wants you—that your desire is mutual. It’s like getting struck by lightning; an electric current sends sparks where your skin meets.

His rough hands feel soft as they cup your cheeks. When he pulls away, he holds you there for a moment. It's silent as he watches your cheeks dust pink and your eyelashes flutter.

“I think I love you."

oy vey my heart hurts. i need this man stat. TT^TT

here's my masterlist and here's my october posting schedule.

tomorrow is the last day of kinktober!!! :0

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Hello I love your writing! Have you ever thought about writing the lads guys going into a corn maze with mc? I imagine that there would be a lot of room for chaos and mishaps

LADS: Corn Maze | SFW

This was just too fun of an idea not to write! Halloween is right around the corner and while I do have something planned for it, I still wanted to go ahead and write this little thing because it's Fall and we need to celebrate with the corn maze shenanigans.

❧ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ❧ Warnings: None ❧ Pairings: All LADs x Reader (Separate)

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The fall leaves crunched between your feet as you bumped into Xavier for the thirtieth time that night. It was dim, with only a few lanterns hanging here and there in the corn maze, “Out of everything we could’ve done for date night, you chose a haunted corn maze?” you had initially teased him when he brought you here. You thought it would be easy, nothing too scary. If anything, you thought you’d wind up getting lost, which, granted, you two were, but you hadn’t expected the eerie atmosphere to affect you this much.

Half an hour into the maze, though, you had found yourself relaxing. Xavier matched your pace as you two made turns and found yourself at dead ends several times, but so far, nothing scary had happened. “Are you certain there are scare actors in this maze?” you asked him casually, your shoulder bumping into him again.

“I’m fairly certain that’s what it was advertised as.” Xavier had muttered as he looked around. You guys had seen actors at the front of the maze, sure, but you hadn’t run into a single one the entire time. Perhaps you guys were more lost than you anticipated.

It was like fate knew you were doubting it, though; as soon as the thought had crossed your mind, you heard a noise behind you. Your head whipped over to look behind you, only to see a hulking form crossing one of the pathways. It was definitely not another person walking around the maze but an actor. The sounds of the chains dragging on the ground had you clinging to Xavier’s arm, your blood running cold as you watched, trying to be silent.

Xavier only looked down at you, noticing how hard you were holding onto his arm as you stared wide-eyed at the actor. His hand went over your own, giving it a squeeze, and when you looked up, you saw his reassuring smile.

“How are you not scared?” You asked; your voice was low as you tried not to let whatever was stalking you guys find your location. Xavier let out a small, melodic laugh, being mindful to keep silent as well as not to alert the actor.

“I find watching you to be more entertaining,” he said, leaning down so his lips brushed up against your ear. You shivered involuntarily at his proximity and showed him a small pout, squeezing him a little bit tighter at that. While you could understand it being entertaining, you felt like your heart was about to explode at just seeing that person walking around.

“That’s so mean, you-“You had planned on giving him a small lecture, but then you heard something behind you two. You ever so slowly turned your head around, hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was. You came face to face with someone in a clown mask, the fake blood splattered all over them. You swallowed thickly as your grasp on Xavier tightened, and your eyes locked onto the actor.

Then your scream rang out in the maze, the sound almost blood curdling as you tried to grab onto Xavier tighter. Xavier, in his defense, had an amazing reaction time to your panic. You didn’t even realize it until he was running away that he had scooped you up bridal style. Your hands bunched up into the fabric of his hoodie as he navigated some twists and turns in order to help lose the actor.

“Also this,” Xavier said as the wind whipped around you two, “It’s hard to be afraid when I have an excuse you carry you like this.”

Zayne

The autumn air had been at first refreshing, if not a bit cold. Now you found a small shiver running down your spine as Zayne looked down at you from where he stood beside you, “I told you to dress warmly,” Zayne said, noticing how you were definitely not properly dressed for this weather. In your defense, you had expected the large corn maze to hide you two from the winds, but instead, it whistled through the stalks and hit your skin like a biting force.

“I didn’t think it would be this cold…” you muttered as you looked down and kicked a rock in front of you. You heard the shuffling of fabrics and looked up to see Zayne had taken his scarf off his neck. He pulled you closer and draped it around your own neck with a smile, wrapping it around you until you were a bit more bundled up.

“It’s fine, I always have solutions.” He explained calmly to you. You could feel a blush on your cheeks as you looked away from him and cleared your throat.

“T-thanks,” you finally managed to get out, his actions touching you to the point where you wondered what you did to deserve such a sweet and caring boyfriend like Zayne.

You then felt him taking your hand, and you looked up in surprise, “Come here; we don’t want to get separated in here,” he said, placing your hand right over his arm. He felt warm to the touch as you got a bit closer, wrapping your hand securely around him. You couldn’t help but get just a touch closer, your cheek resting on his shoulder now as you began making your way through the corn maze.

Honestly, you had been a bit surprised when this is what Zayne had suggested you two did with your day. You both had the day off, and you were expecting him to want to relax at home or maybe stop by a bakery. It had been a long week for him, and you had seen how weary he had been last night when he crawled into bed with you. Instead, though, once you two had woken up and had breakfast, he suggested this. He claimed it would be a shame not to enjoy the fall weather before winter came, and it would be nice to go out for a stroll. It landed you here, wandering around aimlessly as neither of you seemed to want this to end.

Then you saw the exit, where the corn seemed to end, and you frowned. Your feet carried you over to it, and you were back in an open field together, “I feel like that was so…short,” you two hadn’t even been trying to find an exit. Instead, you opted to enjoy the company of one another.

It was Zayne who took you off his arm, instead now holding onto your hand as he brought it up to his lips. The display of affection in public normally would’ve been shocking, but at the moment, you two were the only ones here. The corn maze was open to the public, but since it was the middle of the week, there weren’t any other couples in the clearing.

“How about we try our hand at another entrance,” he said, looking over to one of the many openings in the maze. There were plenty of places to start the maze, and you glanced at him, squeezing his hand.

“And why’d you want to do that?” you asked, already knowing his answer as he gave you a sweet smile.

“No reason in particular; it would just be a shame if we didn’t get the full experience, is all,” it was the only excuse you needed to drop your hands between you two, walking over to re-enter the maze with the intent on seeing how long it would take for you guys to get bored and head off to dinner.

Rafayel

Rafayel already had a death grip on your arm as you two made your way through the maze at night. In the distance, you two could hear other people screaming as the actors chased them through the corn maze, and the sounds only made this entire thing spookier, “Why, out of every date venue, did you choose the haunted corn maze? Are normal mazes overrated now?” Rafayel said his entire being was on high alert as he looked around the area.

“Well, it looked fun…” you murmured, amused with how he seemed to be acting right now. He really was scared if his eyes scanning the area was anything to go off of. It did feel nice, though, having his warm body pressed against your own as you made your way through the maze. It was pretty chilly tonight, and even though you had thought you dressed warmly enough, having Rafayel there helped you stop shivering.

“This is the opposite of fun. What if they really try and kill us?” Rafayel asked with a pout, “As my bodyguard, it’s your legal duty to protect me,” he said, blowing some of his hair out of his face. His eyes were almost pleading with you, and it made you want to whine at how sweet he looked. He had the perfect puppy dog look whenever he was in a situation he didn’t particularly enjoy, and it tugged on your heartstrings far more than you’d like to admit.

You decided to hold onto his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “Alright, Raf, I promise that if any scare actors come out and try and murder you, I’ll protect you,” you assured the man.

It was as if the actors had heard you, though, heard your brave declaration because the moment you had said it, you saw someone come out of the shadows. The man was giant and holding a chainsaw that he revved as he began bolting towards you. For such a large frame, the man was fast, and it had you now grabbing onto Rafayel and letting out a shrill scream. You weren’t even sure who had the loudest scream out of you two, you or Rafayel.

The man looked absolutely terrified, and his grip on your hand tightened in response. Then he looked down at you, scared like a deer in headlights, as this actor came rushing for you. Without even thinking about it, he was scooping you up into his arms, your hands resting on his shoulders as he began booking it out of there faster than you thought. He always complained about hating running and how he wasn’t fast on land, but the way he moved was proving otherwise.

You could only grasp onto Rafayel tighter as you watched with wide eyes. You had expected to be the one to grab him; in fact, you had it all planned out. You were scooping your boyfriend up like a bride and booking it out of there. If you had a moment to recover from your initial shock, you probably would’ve, but he had managed to act faster than you. He weaved through the maze until you could no longer see the actor, and he hid you two in one of the alcoves.

“You are doing a horrible job as my bodyguard,” Rafayel said, trying to catch his breath. He was letting you slip out of his arms, and your feet were now touching the ground. Your arms were still wrapped around his shoulders, though, as you looked up at him, smiling.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you began, standing tall enough to brush your nose against his own, “You’re doing an amazing job as my boyfriend,” you stated. You watched as Rafayel blinked owlishly at you, his cheeks and ears now growing red at your compliment.

“O-of course I am…” he murmured, but he couldn’t hide the satisfied smile on his face, knowing he got to protect you this time, even if you secretly didn’t need it all that much. You would avoid telling him that, however, as you found being carried by Rafayel to be a rather fun activity.

Sylus

There were a few things people would never believe you, even if you told them. Even if you had photographic evidence of it, they still wouldn’t believe you. It was the fact that Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, a name that instills fear and respect from those who hear it…was damn clingy.

The man was literally draped over you at the moment, clinging onto you like his life depended on it. His body was heavy against your own as you tried walking forward in the corn maze, but you felt like your back was about to give out on you. He had his arms around your shoulders, his head resting on top of yours, and gods, did you need a break?

“You’re too biiiiiiiig!” you finally cried out after almost half an hour of his behavior. You could hear Sylus chuckle at your statement, causing you to huff, “And heavy…” you muttered the last part. You swore this man was 90% muscle at this point and 10% koala. You felt his lips on top of your head, giving you a small kiss as he began speaking to you, his voice having a calming effect on you somehow.

“You never complain about me being too heavy when we’re cuddling in bed,” Sylus said, reminding you about how he draped himself over you. Sleeping next to Sylus really meant half his body was on top of yours, his arms securely around your waist as if he was afraid you’d try to get up while you slept.

“Okay, that’s different; you’re like a literal cat when we’re cuddling in bed,” You said, trying to argue your point, “And I’m not walking around; I’m laying down. Like my personal weighted blanket.” You reasoned with him. Your feet felt like they were dragging now as he bore down more of his weight onto you in response.

“Are you telling me the big, strong hunter can’t handle this?” he teased, and you groaned. Then you remembered you were a hunter, and you were now looking for a way to escape the man. Your eyes landed on one of the thousands of corn stalks around you as you stopped walking for a moment. You reached your hand out, breaking off some of it and then whacking Sylus on the head.

That was enough to have him let out a small, unamused grunt as he stood back up. He looked down at you, the corn stalk in hand, holding it like a sword, “Unhand my, you fiend!” you said, getting ready to hit him again if he tried to drape himself over your body.

“Is this a challenge?” Sylus asked, raising an eyebrow. He always did say he liked your feisty side, but this was…almost a bit too childish. Still, he was always one to indulge your whims, and perhaps acting like a bunch of rambunctious teenagers was fine every now and again as he grabbed one of the corn stalks himself.

Your eyes drifted to his own hand, the relaxed stance he had as he looked at you with a smirk. You decided to try and hit it out of his hand, but in a swift motion, he managed to deflect you. He slapped your wrist with his weapon, and immediately, you dropped it, looking down at your poor corn stalk, then back at him.

“Seriously?” you asked, motioning to your now fallen weapon, “You can use a corn stalk as a sword…and have it be effective?” you asked, clearly unamused that he was good at everything without needing to try.

You watched as he tossed his ‘weapon’ off to the side and grabbed hold of you, dragging you closer to his body, “Improvising is simply part of life. However, I don’t think I’d try and take down a wanderer with this in hand.” He said, “However, you put up a noble fight; how about, as a reward, you can lean on me for a while?”

You flushed as you felt his warmth seeping into you, realizing for the first time that you were a little chilly. A slight shiver went down your spine as you looked up at him, almost pouting, “Fine,” you said, leaning against him, “Honestly, I should just make you carry me. I think my back is permanently damaged.”

“Is that what you want, sweetie?” Sylus asked, pulling you off for a moment, “To be carried through this maze.” You were about to protest and tell him it was a joke, but no sooner did you think of a sentence than he picked you up in one arm. You let out a small, annoyed noise as he did so but relaxed against him. You suppose there could be worse ways to spend your time in the maze, and with his height and your angle, you could see on top of the corn stalks where the exit was.

[bontentrio]

SAFE PLACE

yunho x gn reader

summary: after a tiring day you found yourself being comforted by the warmth of your boyfriend while he played video games.

tw: fluff maaaybe some angst but not really (+ spelling mistakes probably, english is not my first language)

based on this video of yunho looking very boyfriend (i screamed very loudly and cried a little)

the weather kind of reflected how you were feeling: grey, and on the verge of tears. the weight of your horrible day rested on your shoulders, and each step you took towards your home was more dreadful than the last. not only did your feet hurt from the new shoes you were wearing, but also your head, you had a terrible headache.

your day actually did not start as bad as it ended, you woke up in time and got dressed for work in a nice outfit. nice outfit = nice day, right? oh how wrong you were. as soon as you got to the office, you accidentally spilled your coffee cup on your nice outfit after bumping against one of the desks by accident. your white shirt immediately ruined despite trying to wipe the stain off with some wipes.

later on that day, your boss scolded you for apparently handling some documents poorly. thing is, when you asked to see said documents, you realized they weren’t even yours to begin with. so you tried telling that to your boss, and you could tell he realized his mistake but obviously did not care enough to apologize. he just sighed and left, probably on his way to scold the right person for the poor management.

on your way home, you missed the train. and on top of that it started raining slightly, but you did not have your umbrella because, surprise! you forgot it at the office. thankfully once you got on the next train, it stopped raining. the weather still looked awful though, and it seemed like it would continue raining later.

thankfully the day was over. you entered your apartment and dropped everything by the door, not bothering enough to put everything into the right place.

“i said go right! no! my right! why would i say your right when its filled with enemies, are you dumb?” you suddenly heard your boyfriend yell. “see, now we are dead and our teammates suck so they won’t be able to revive us”.

you walked towards the living room, and found yunho facing the tv with his spider man custom controller in his hands. he immediately noticed your presence, said something along the lines of “be right back, keep watch” and stood up to greet you.

“hi baby, how are you?” he asked, kissing you. “i prepared your favorite food earlier today, it’s in the fridge, just heat it up whenever you feel like it”.

you didn’t say anything in response, just hugged him tightly, trying to contain the tears from spilling out. you didn’t realize how exhausted you actually were from your horrible day, how much you needed yunho to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay.

“hey, hey y/n, you okay?” he asked, lifting up your head to face him. he brushed your cheeks with his thumbs and stared into your eyes worridly. some tears spilled out, but you couldn’t mutter a single word, just shook your head in order to say “no”. yunho didn’t need anything else, he understood you didn’t want to talk about it. at least not right now. “how about a shower first? does that sound right?” he asked, before kissing your forehead. you nodded.

he quickly went back to his place at the sofa and told his friend he needed to leave momentarily and will be back later. then he took your hand and lead you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet seat while he prepared the hot shower for you. “come here, love” he said, extending his hand for you to take. yunho proceeded to undress you, taking notice of the brown stain on your shirt in the process. once you were done, you got in the shower and noticed that the temperature of the water was perfect.

“i’ll do the laundry and wait for you in the living room” yunho said while taking your work clothes in his hands.

———

you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit better after the shower. you got dressed in your pj shorts and stole one of yunho’s many hoodies, putting it on and staring at yourself in the mirror. you noticed the big eyebags, evidence of how exhausted you were from the day and from work itself.

you found yunho back in his spot on the sofa, controller still in hand, but now speaking calmly. when he caught your eyes, he smiled and extended his hand for you to take, again. this time, you were able to smile back. “better?” he asked, and you nodded. he took your hand and brought you towards him, sitting you on his lap. you immediately wrapped your legs and arms around him, caging him and allowing your head to rest on the spot between his shoulder and neck. you inhaled his scent, and slowly felt all your worries slipping away.

yunho’s arms were around you, controller still in his hands. at some point, you weren’t quite sure when, you heard him say goodbye to his friend and that he was going to play another game solo mode. he proceeded to hold you tighter, properly this time since he left momentarily the controller besides him. “everything will be okay, you will be okay” he whispered to your ear, kissing you lightly on the side of your head.

you don’t know when, but between the soft tapping of the rain against the windows and the low humming coming from yunho, you finally drifted to sleep.

you will be okay, as long as yunho was there to kiss your tears away and be your safe place from dark days.

[zvdvdlvr]

corn maze + john price

synopsis - you go to a corn maze and get fucked by john

warnings - unprotected sex, pet names, ooc!john price

notes - trying to get back into the swing of things. who knows if this will last.

i need someone to match my freak. i need JOHN PRICE to match my freak guys.

like, i could definitely go for a quickie with him in a corn maze.

just think. its early in the season of fall- ordinarily too early for the pinterest couples and groups of friends to be swarming the corn maze and pumpkin patch. you sweet talked john into going and getting the first pick of the patch early on in the season because you knew you both may get called back to work.

you were both wearing jeans and boots- the wind had a slight nip to it now- and miraculously convinced your boyfriend to wear the deep red Henley that clung to his muscles so well. in return, he had picked out a blaringly bright orange sweater so you could ‘fit in with the pumpkins’ or some other bullshit that brought a smile to his face. 

john had let you lead him around the peacefully unpopulated grounds- purchasing apple cider and other odds and ends you saw fit. he knew that you just wanted one day to feel like a normal, regular, sane couple that didn’t have their hands soaked in blood every other day- literally or figuratively. and in all honesty, he didn’t mind letting you happily pull him along because the smile on your face was worth diamonds.

eventually, after you picked over all the shops and food stands, you stopped in front of the corn maze. “final stop, john. then you can take me home,” you mused, snuggling into his inhumanly warm side. 

your boyfriend hummed beside you. “finally,” he grumbled jokingly. The quiet chuckle he earned from his comment made his heart swell a little fuller. “alright, love. lead the way.”

Five minutes later, you had no clue where to go. Ironic, right? You cursed yourself- how could you not know how to escape some dumb corn maze?

Just as your feet started to ache, you lead the both of you into a corn with a couple hay bales in the corner. John followed you and chortled as you sat down on the bale. You could barely feel the pointy straw poking your ass. 

“Stupid maze,” you grumbled.

John’s eyes twinkled. “Let me eat you out, love.”

The casualness of his tone made your mouth open and close once. Twice. “John. My love. My heart. We’re in a corn maze right now.”

One step and he crouched doen to your eye level. The devilish smile that crinkled his eyes was softening your resolve and he knew it. “C’mon, love,” he cooed, brushing a lock of your frizzy hair from your eyes. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

Stupid man and stupid sexy voice, you thought spitefully, as John’s hands clasped around your waist. He slid his hands over the soft fabric covering your waist. As he leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours in an entoxicatingly slow kiss, he slid his large hands down to the meat of your thighs.

He drank in your moans, letting your hands latch onto the back of his neck. John parted your thighs with his hand. After breaking the kiss, he sank to his knees and tugged you forward before busying himself with undoing your belt buckle.

Waves of goosebumps picked at your skin. By the cold and by John’s skillful hands, tugging your pants and underwear sown far enough to feast his eyes (and eventually mouth) on your already soaked cunt.

Are you still with me here? Because I know John would eat you so good that your inner thighs would be bright red from the prickliness of his facial hair. But honestly, you didn’t care too much. Not after John forcing not one but two orgasms out of you.

Then he finally decided to lift you up and sit him on his cock. It was a miracle you were still concious enough to give him sass, saying “at least take me on a date first, John.” He had responded with a sharp thrust into your gushing pussy.

“You come on my tongue twice, and you’re the one giving me ?” John chides you, a roughness in his voice that made your pussy tighten. “Might want to watch your mouth, love.”

You stayed silent, letting him get used to the feel of you. Your body shivered and you wrapped your arms around John’s neck, voice breaking as you pleaded for him to ruin you: right here in a fucking corn maze.

“Please, John,” you moaned. He grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed. your positioning was awkward but you knew John would take care of you. “I need it.”

Luckily for you, John didn’t feel like wasting any more time. He positioned his hands to be gripping your waist and started moving. Agonizingly slow, he lifted you up and down, John complied. Your breathless mewls were music to John’s ears as he slowly sped up his pace, fucking up into your core.

It didn’t take long for you to feel that white-hot ball of heat tensing up in your gut. This time, though, you were worried you’d cum too fast- too overstimulated from your previous orgasms.

“Fuuuck,” John groaned into your ear. “Squeezin’ me just right, love.”

John’s words sent a chill down your spine. You bit down on your hand until it bled. John’s speed only increased.

“I feel you clenchin’ around my cock, love,” John told you. The rasp in his voice only sent you closer to your high. “Takin’ me just right. Your pussy’s perfect, love. Like you’re made for me,” he rambled, fucking you so roughly you knew you’d have bruises.

You grip at his shirt helplessly as John repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that feels like heaven. “Christ, John,” you whimper out.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Like it when I tell you what a good girl y’are?”

Tears stream down your face and the coil in your gut is so hot, so alive, so ready. “I’m gonna- John- I’m… gonna-“

“Cum for me, darlin’,” John tells you, voice choked. “Cum on my cock.”

And Jesus Christ you do. You barely have time to slap a hand over your mouth before you cum. Salty tears drip down your face while you feel your thighs go lax as the coil snaps.

John’s warm cum spills into you as he pulls you down one final time and muffles his own groaning by shoving his face into your stupidly orange sweater.

It takes a full minute and a half for you to stop twitching in John’s arms. And even so, you can feel your breathing shudder ever so slightly.

“John?”

You feel rather than hear John’s rumble of a reply. Your hand cards through his hair and you attempt to calm your breathing.

“Are you ready?”

Another grumble.

So yeah. Also. I love him. I am a hot sexy loser. Goodnight everyone love you all im losing my sanity!