#there is an empty space on my jacket now.

[03jyh23]

🚆⌇bandit(?)!┆jung wooyoung

badboy(?) wooyoung x fem!reader

│synopsis: the one where you miss your train and meet a charming... bandit?

│genre: romance

│trigger warnings: none?

│words: 4.5 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there, my lovely people! honestly, i have no idea what this is 😭. i got inspired by a song from one of the rappers in my country and just went with it. and now i'm just wondering if i should do something more with this story or just leave it be?

love, mon ♡

A cold evening breeze tousled your hair, plastering strands to your face. A heavy bag hung from your shoulder, filled with items that couldn't fit into the large suitcase standing beside you, your hand gripping its handle tightly. The thing was, you didn't make it to your transfer train. Despite your friends' warnings, you insisted you could grab a much-needed iced coffee in the 10 minutes before your train left. You were wrong.

The platform was dark, with only two solitary lamps casting a dim light. You cursed yourself under your breath, but there wasn't much you could do now. You'd already waited for an hour; you could've managed another before the next train arrived. You glanced at your phone, sighing heavily—it was running out of battery. It was frustrating. You'd have to wait two hours just to take a train for a little over forty minutes to reach your hometown. But you were the only one to blame. Well, at least you had your coffee and a blueberry muffin. But it wasn’t worth it, not at all. You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter around you. You glanced at the large clock hanging from the information board, hoping the minutes would pass more quickly. Of course, they didn't.

After an frustratingly long time you finally heard the train approaching, its rumble growing louder as it neared the station. You felt a mix of relief and anticipation wash over you. Finally, you'd be on your way. As the train's headlights pierced through the darkness, illuminating the platform, you gathered your belongings and prepared to board, eager to put this frustrating delay behind you.

The car you boarded was empty, so you sat down at the very end, near the window. You placed your luggage in the designated area and quickly plugged in your phone to charge as much as possible for the remaining journey.

As the train pulled into the next station, the platform gradually came into view, bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights that cast long shadows across the concrete. The stark illumination revealed an almost deserted space, save for a group of eight young men clustered near the far end. Their presence immediately caught your attention, starkly contrasting the emptiness surrounding them. Each member of the group was clad entirely in black, their dark attire blending into the night behind them. As your eyes adjusted to the scene, you noticed intricate tattoos adorning their bodies and faces - some subtle, others bold and striking. Three of them were casually smoking cigarettes, the wisps of smoke curling upwards into the night air. As you observed them, one of the smokers suddenly locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense and unwavering, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he deliberately tossed his half-finished cigarette into a nearby bin. The action, while seemingly casual, felt loaded with meaning. Your heart plummeted, a mix of anxiety and unease settling in your stomach. The weight of his stare was palpable, even from this distance. Instinctively, you turned your head away, breaking the uncomfortable connection. Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. As the train doors hissed open, you found yourself fervently hoping that none of the group would decide to board. The thought of sharing this confined space with them filled you with a sense of apprehension that you couldn't quite shake off.

"Wooyoung-ah, just get there and get it done with, yeah?" the unexpected gentleness in the voice you’ve just heard had caught you off guard. You grabbed your phone to busy yourself with, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked it, trying to appear nonchalant.

As you glanced up from your phone, you saw one of the young men from the group stepping onto the train. His movements were fluid and graceful, belying his intimidating appearance. The tattoos on his face seemed to dance in the flickering light of the train car. "I'll be fine, Joong. See y'all next week, yeah?" the boy called out, waving to his companions just before the train doors closed with a loud beep. Your heart rate quickened as you realized he must be Wooyoung, the one addressed earlier. His hair was black, neck-length, with a fringe styled neatly—only a few strands falling onto his forehead. You noticed a bandage right above his eyebrow, the skin around it purple with bruises. He wasn't tall, but the chunky boots and large leather jacket made him appear more imposing. The tattoos adorning his face seemed to shift and dance in the dim light of the train, adding an air of mystery to his already intimidating presence. His dark eyes scanned the train car, eventually settling on you. For a moment, your gazes locked, and you felt a mix of fear and inexplicable curiosity wash over you.

Wooyoung chose a seat a few rows ahead of you, close enough that you could observe him without being too obvious. As he settled in, you couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders relaxed slightly, as if he was shedding some of the intensity he had displayed on the platform. The train lurched forward, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the intimidating figure you'd seen on the platform with the young man now sitting quietly a few rows ahead. His presence seemed to fill the car, even in silence. Your eyes were drawn to the intricate tattoos adorning his face. The one beneath his left eye caught your attention - at first glance, it looked like the number 26, but as you studied it more closely, you realized it might be something else entirely. Your gaze drifted to his temple, where a small, delicate butterfly tattoo rested, a surprising contrast to his otherwise intimidating appearance. You tried to read the lettering above his eyebrow when he caught your eyes again. You raised your eyebrows and looked away, feeling a shudder run through your body. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place. Your heart raced as you pretended to be engrossed in your phone, all too aware of his presence just a few rows ahead.

The train's rhythmic movement did little to calm your nerves as you found yourself stealing quick glances at Wooyoung again, hoping he wouldn't notice. The tattoo above his eyebrow remained a mystery, its meaning just out of reach.

Suddenly, his voice broke the silence, startling you out of your thoughts. "You know, it's not polite to stare," he said, his tone filled with amusement. His eyes met yours again, this time with a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, caught red-handed in your observation. "I... I'm sorry," you stammered, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected address.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, turning to face you more directly. "Curious about the ink?" he asked, gesturing to the tattoos on his face. "Most people are. They either can't look away or can't bear to look at all." His words carried a weight that suggested he was used to both reactions. You felt your words frozen in your throat, unable to form a coherent response. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze and the unexpected interaction left you speechless. You simply averted your eyes, focusing intently on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You heard him chuckling softly, a sound that was both melodious and slightly unnerving. "Not much of a talker, huh?" he mused, his eyes still fixed on you. You dared to look up again, the warmth in his expression caught you off guard, softening his intimidating appearance. It was a stark contrast to the intense gaze you had encountered earlier. For a moment, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a fraction. "Are you afraid of me?" Wooyoung asked, sensing your hesitation. His voice was softer than you expected. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications.

You hesitated, weighing your words carefully. The initial fear you felt was still there, but it had been tempered by curiosity and the unexpected warmth in his smile. "I... I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's fair," he said, his voice sultry. "But I promise, I'm much more... fun than I look." He winked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Want to find out just how deceiving appearances can be?" His gaze locked with yours, intense and inviting, daring you to look beyond his intimidating exterior.

You blinked continuously, taken aback by his bold proposition. "E-excuse me?" you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. The sudden shift in the conversation left you flustered, unsure of how to respond to unexpected flirtation.

Wooyoung rose from his seat, his movements fluid and deliberate. As he approached, you found yourself captivated by his presence. He stood before you, and for the first time, you truly noticed the intricate details of his face. His nose and lip piercings glinted in the dim light of the train car, adding to his allure. You were struck by how handsome he was up close, his features a perfect blend of sharp angles and soft curves. Looking up at him, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Wooyoung's eyes met yours, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "May I?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he gestured towards the seat next to you. The question hung in the air, loaded with possibilities. Your heart raced as you considered your options. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze made you feel both thrilled and uneasy. After a moment's hesitation, you nodded slightly, your curiosity overcoming your apprehension. As he settled into the seat beside you, his presence both intimidating and oddly comforting, you couldn't help but wonder what you were getting yourself into.

"My name's Wooyoung," he says, his eyes roaming your features. "And I'd hate to scare off such a beautiful girl, so answer me... are you really afraid of me? Or is it just my killer looks that's got your tongue?" You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck as Wooyoung's words washed over you. His proximity was intoxicating, the scent of leather and something distinctly masculine filling your senses. You struggled to find your voice, caught between the intimidating aura he exuded and the undeniable attraction you felt.

"I... I'm not afraid," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just... surprised." You met his gaze, finding yourself drawn into the depth of his dark eyes.

Wooyoung's pierced lips curved into a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Surprised? By what? My charming personality or my devilishly good looks?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, some of the tension dissipating. "Maybe a bit of both," you admitted, surprising yourself with your boldness.

His smirk widened into a genuine smile, transforming his face. "I like your honesty," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, beautiful, since we've established you're not afraid of me, how about we make this train ride a little more... interesting?" You crossed your arms and leaned back against the window, trying to put some distance between yourself and Wooyoung. His sudden closeness and bold proposition had caught you off guard, and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts.

"Are you going to shout 'A bandit! Help!' and run away now?" he joked, but you couldn't quite shake off the feeling he'd been in this situation before. Despite his joking tone, there was an undercurrent of familiarity in his words. Gathering your courage, you decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Do people usually call you a bandit?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and caution.

Wooyoung's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something—perhaps surprise or appreciation—crossing his features. He leaned back, creating a bit more space between you, and let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, straight to the point, aren't you?" he said, his tone a blend of amusement and something more serious. "Let's just say I've heard it enough times to make jokes about it. But appearances can be deceiving, you know?" His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability there that contradicted his tough exterior. "What do you think? Am I living up to the 'thug' stereotype?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Finally, you took a deep breath and met his eyes directly. The intensity of his gaze made you feel both nervous and intrigued. "Honestly?" you asked with hesitation, weighing your next words carefully.

"No, please lie to me!" Wooyoung joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of chewing gum. With a swift motion, he popped one into his mouth, the minty scent wafting between you. You couldn't help but smile at his playful response, feeling some of the tension dissipate. The casual act of chewing gum somehow made him seem more approachable, and less intimidating than before.

Taking another deep breath, you decided to answer honestly. "At first glance, maybe. The tattoos, the piercings, the whole vibe... it's intimidating," you admitted, watching his reaction carefully. "But talking to you now? You seem more... complex than that. There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" You surprised yourself with your boldness, but something about Wooyoung made you want to dig deeper, to understand the person behind the intimidating facade.

Wooyoung smirked, raising one of his eyebrows as he popped a bubble with the gum. "Are you a psychiatrist in the making?" he teased. You wanted to brush off his little comment, but he didn't give you time to answer. "'I'm no bandit, first I've heard of it,'" he said, putting his hands up as if he were surrendering. "You'd be shocked at how many times I've had to say that." His words carried a hint of frustration beneath the playful tone, and you found yourself wondering about the experiences that led him to make such a statement. Wooyoung leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "the ladies think I kill, but at home, I walk in pink slippers." He paused, letting the image sink in before continuing, "And all the grannies yell when I step out on the street." His gaze locked with yours, a mix of amusement and challenge in his expression. You couldn't help but laugh at the contrast he painted. The image of this intimidating figure in pink slippers was both absurd and oddly endearing.

"What else do you do at home?" you tease, finally relaxing into your seat, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Isn't that a very personal question?" he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful expression. "Well, you did invite me to make this train ride more interesting," you countered, your confidence growing with each exchange. "Besides, I'm curious about the man behind the tattoos and pink slippers." Your eyes met his, a silent challenge in your gaze, daring him to reveal more about himself.

"As for the tattoos, I just fucking like them, that's all," Wooyoung said with a shrug. His nonchalant attitude towards his tattoos made you wonder about the stories behind each one.

You found yourself drawn to the intricate designs adorning his skin, each one likely holding a unique significance. "Do any of them have special meanings?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. Wooyoung's eyes lit up at your question, a mix of surprise and appreciation crossing his features.

"I'll save the answer to that for a second date," Wooyoung said with a wink. He nonchalantly popped another gum balloon before spitting it into the small trash bin.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of intrigue and amusement at his flirtatious response. "A second date? Aren't we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?" you teased back, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge. The easy banter between you two was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Wooyoung leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Well, I consider this our first date, ever since you agreed for me to sit here," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The boldness of his statement caught you off guard, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh really?" you replied, trying to match his confidence. "And here I thought first dates usually involved dinner or a movie, not a chance encounter on a train."

Wooyoung's grin widened, "Who says we can't be unconventional?" he countered, his gaze never leaving yours. "But if you want all of that," he continued, his voice taking on a playful, almost challenging tone, "then it's my pleasure to take you on such a... boring date without anything extraordinary to it." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly closer. "Though I have to warn you, even my idea of 'ordinary' might surprise you."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Who says I'd even agree to go out with you in the first place?" you challenged, your tone playful but with a hint of seriousness. "You're making quite a few assumptions there, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting your response. He leaned back, a mix of surprise and admiration crossing his features. After a moment, he let out a low chuckle. "Touché," he said, his voice tinged with respect. "I guess I got a bit ahead of myself there. My apologies." He paused, his gaze softening. "But can you blame a guy for trying? You're not exactly easy to resist."

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words, but you maintained your composure. "Flattery will get you nowhere," you said, though you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "But I appreciate the apology. Maybe we should start with getting to know each other a bit better before planning any dates, hmm?"

Wooyoung's eyes lit up with amusement at your suggestion. "Why waste time if we can get to know each other on the date?" he countered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "After all, isn't that what dates are for?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "You don't even know my name," you pointed out, shaking your head in amusement at his bold flirtation.

Wooyoung's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "I don't need that to know you're the most beautiful woman I've seen," he said, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck at his words, caught between flattery and disbelief at his audacity. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but be charmed by his confidence and smooth talking.

You decided to play along with his flirtatious banter, feeling a mix of amusement and excitement. With a coy smile, you leaned in slightly and said, "I hope my beauty isn't too distracting. We wouldn't want you to miss your stop, would we?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow, appreciative grin spread across his face. "Oh, darling," he drawled, his voice low and rich, "I'd gladly miss a hundred stops if it meant spending more time with you."

You couldn't help but giggle, turning your face away in embarrassment, not able to continue with the banter. You felt a warmth spreading through your chest, a mix of embarrassment and excitement at the intensity of Wooyoung's flirtation. As you turned back to face him, you caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes, a vulnerability that seemed at odds with his bold exterior. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be caught in his gaze, feeling a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty. As the silence stretched between you, you noticed how Wooyoung started playing with his lip ring, his fingers absently toying with the small metal hoop. His eyes, which had been locked with yours, briefly dropped to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The gesture was subtle, but unmistakable, sending a small thrill through you. You found yourself wondering how that lip ring would feel against your own lips, the thought was both thrilling and intimidating. It sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards Wooyoung, his bold confidence and mysterious aura drawing you in. Your eyes flickered to his lips, lingering on the silver ring that adorned them. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel the cool metal against your skin. Catching yourself, you quickly averted your gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. But the image remained, tantalizing and forbidden, at the edges of your mind. You tried to push the thought away, but it persisted, a silent acknowledgment of your growing desire.

Wooyoung's whispered words sent a shiver down your spine. "If there's something you want to do, you should act upon it," he murmured, leaning in closer. His head tilted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. You felt a magnetic pull towards him, your heart racing as the space between you diminished. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and you found yourself drawn to his lips, that tantalizing lip ring catching the dim light of the train. Time seemed to slow as you hovered on the precipice of decision. Should you give in to the desire that had been building since this chance encounter began? Or was this moving too fast, too soon?

Wooyoung smiled lightly, his face so close you could feel his breath on your skin. The proximity made the lump in your throat grow, your heart racing with anticipation. His voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper as he asked, "Is it alright for me to touch you?" The question hung in the air between you, charged with tension and unspoken desire. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the thrill of the moment and the rational part of your mind reminding you that you'd just met. Your body seemed to lean towards him of its own accord, drawn by an inexplicable magnetism. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. But it wasn't enough for Wooyoung. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he whispered, "I need to hear you actually say it." His voice was low, almost husky, sending a shiver down your spine. The anticipation hung thick in the air between you, every second stretching out like an eternity.

You swallowed hard, finding your voice. "Yes," you breathed, barely audible even in the quiet of the train car. "You can touch me." The words left your lips, a mix of nervousness and excitement coloring your tone. Wooyoung's eyes lit up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leaned in even closer. Wooyoung's hand moved to your jaw, his touch gentle yet electrifying. His fingers caressed your cheek, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, deliberately, he ran his thumb over your lower lip, the sensation causing you to tremble involuntarily. Your breath hitched, caught between anticipation and nervousness as you felt the intensity of his touch and gaze.

You closed your eyes, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your heart raced as you whispered, "You can kiss me now." The words hung in the air, charged with anticipation. You waited, breath held, for him to make his move. Wooyoung's breath hitched audibly, a soft exhale that you felt against your skin. There was a moment of stillness, the world seeming to pause around you. Then, with agonizing slowness, you felt him lean in. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, testing. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a jolt through you, contrasting with the warmth of his mouth.

As if emboldened by your response, Wooyoung deepened the kiss. His hand cupped your face more firmly, fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss was a perfect blend of gentle and passionate, leaving you breathless. You could taste the hint of his earlier gum, with a hint of cigarettes. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the moment, all thoughts of the train and your surroundings fading away.

Suddenly, a jolt from the train brought you both back to reality. You pulled away slightly, your cheeks flushed and your breath coming in short gasps. Wooyoung's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed at you, a small smile playing on his lips. The moment hung between you, charged with the thrill of newfound connection.

You looked out the window, suddenly realizing with a jolt that you recognized the station passing by. "It's my stop!" you shouted, jumping to your feet in a panic. You quickly unplugged your phone, then grabbed your suitcase and bag, heart racing as you rushed towards the doors.

Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by your sudden movement. "Wait—" he started to say, but you were already halfway down the aisle.

As you reached the doors, you turned back briefly, catching a glimpse of Wooyoung's bewildered expression. A mix of regret and excitement coursed through you as the train began to slow. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out onto the platform, your mind reeling from the whirlwind encounter you'd just experienced. You stood there, catching your breath as the train doors closed behind you. Your heart was still racing, not just from the rush to exit, but from the intense encounter you'd just experienced. As you watched the train pull away, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever see Wooyoung again, or if this magical moment would remain just that—a fleeting connection in the night.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[winniethewife]

I know I'll be alright, But I'm not tonight 

(Commander Cody x F!reader)

Prompt: Remembering

Words: 717

Warnings: Angst, Grief

A/N: For my Event Nine weeks in hell and Angstember

Cody stood in the Negotiator situation room, looking around the empty spaces where his general and friends once stood. What was it all for? Can anything really be solved without bloodshed? He had just returned from his mission on Desix, he felt the sweat drip down his brow as he recalled the moment Crosshair had shot the governor. In all his years of fighting he had never felt shaken like this. He looked around the room again and felt the ever stronger absence of the people he had spent his whole life with. Where was Rex? Where were Fives and Echo? Where were Waxer and Boil? Where was General Kenobi? He knew, He knew they were gone. He felt an awful sinking feeling, the Negotiator was scheduled to be deconstructed and used for new ships in the next few rotations, the last place he had to remember everything he had gone though, every person he had cared about, He sighed deeply as he covered his face with his hand. He wondered what he was supposed to do.

“Cody?” a voice called out from somewhere in the ship, a familiar voice. A flash of memories cross his mind. Late nights doing paperwork together, even later nights drinking at 79’s, early mornings over a cup of caf. He turns to see her. Standing with her imperial officer’s uniform jacket slung over her shoulder and a worried look on her face. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry, I…I needed a minute.” Cody rubbed the back of his neck. He tried to seem casual about it but she knew him all too well.

“You’ve been needing a lot of time away lately.” She broached the topic carefully, closing the distance between the two of them. Cody’s shoulders fell in defeat, of course she had noticed. He leans against the Holo-       table in the middle of the room, she quickly followed suit.

“Do you…think we’re doing good things here? Are we making the galaxy better?” He was hoping this time he would get a different answer from her than he got from Crosshair. She let out a defeated sound, her head tilted back so she was looking at the ceiling.

“I don’t know Cody…It’s hard to say. I feel like…I have more questions than I did before, and I feel like the answers I get don’t inspire confidence. I feel like I did more on a daily basis when we were fighting in the war then we do now.” She looks over at him. “But…I really have my doubts.”

“I’m…also having doubts.” Cody said relief coating his words as he tears his gaze from her. “I’m starting to wonder, why this happened. We won the war, but we lost…everything.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. She gently put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“He’s not dead Cody. They’re still looking for him.” She said softly. Cody looked up suddenly, He knew exactly who she was talking about. The General.

“How? I thought…they must’ve…really?” Cody felt like a weight came off his shoulders but an overwhelming feeling of guilt flooded his mind. He felt like his brain was short circuiting as he tried to find the words.  “I…I’m glad…I know I’m not supposed…I don’t…How am I supposed to feel?” He looked over at her, in his eyes she could see the conflicting emotions he was feeling.

“I don’t know. But I do know how I feel.” She scoots slightly closer to him “I spend my days looking over these reports, Order 66, the Jedi council, I can’t help but wonder…” Her voice trails off. Cody shook his head in disbelief.

“I can’t stay here, I want to make a difference, I want my choices to matter.” He takes her hand in his and squeezes it. She looks at him, and nods giving his hand a gentle squeeze in return. They both knew the rumors that had been circulating, about Clones going AWOL, about where they go. She doesn’t want to say goodbye. She doesn’t want to lose him too, and neither does he.

“We can’t stay here…” She whispered softly. Cody’s eyes lit up.

“So you’ll come with me?” He asked hopefully.

“I’ll go anywhere with you.” She confirms.

“Then let’s go…Anywhere but here.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist: : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

[amass0fvoices]

*wet, visceral sobbing *

Im gonna throw up

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[lovegasmic]

  ִֶָ casualties ↪ part two of mafia boss sukuna.

⋆ mdni. semi public ( public place but no people around ) unprotected sex, mentions of guns and bribes, keep in mind he is literally a gangster, none of his behaviors are ‘normal’, mirror sex, slight stalking ( sending people to investigate you ), breeding kink and creampies, pet names used: princess, doll, my girl/love, sweetheart.

after your first encounter, it only took the man a flick of his wrist and your whole life was settled in a stack of papers on his coffee table, smirk tugging on the corner of his lip and a cigarette tightly held on his free hand. your address was the easiest part, with your father being an important member of the mafia, it was only normal for his men to get the direction in the blink of an eye, perfectly in time for Sukuna to start sending large bouquets of flowers with an unknown sender, although his scent was present on each petal, just for you to admire and your father to frown.

it was not too much work either to find your birthday, friends and places you often visit, after all you were a public figure as well, —that and a couple of bribes to your acquaintances it’s all it took.

the store of a luxury clothing brand stood in front of his car, tinted glasses concealing Sukuna’s half hooded eyes and knowing smirk, of course the princess would only shop at the most expensive places, perhaps using daddy’s black card. it’d be a lie if Sukuna said his cock didn’t throb at the idea of you using his black card next, to your heart’s content.

the pink haired man was not one to follow his impulses, to him everything was premeditated, carefully studied so things went smoothly like the fat wad of bills slipping into the retail’s clerk pocket, and much similar to the subtleness in his men’s loaded guns pressed against your bodyguards sides, who trembled in fear, so pathetic.

“tsk” Sukuna thinks, “i should get better guards for my girl” with a swift movement he fixes his cuffs, straightening the jacket suit and matching black half buttoned shirt underneath, allowing his tattoos to be seen.

and it takes his whole self control in not opening the dressing room door where he knows, you’re in, and sloppily make out with you, pants tightening at the memory of your fucked out and dizzy expression. fuck, he’s so hard already. but instead optes to sit on the large leather couch in the middle of the VIP space, his eyes scanning the quietness and luxury in ceiling high mirrors and marble floors.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, finally stepping out of from behind the wooden door and attempting not to let your surprise be seen, but considering the slight twitch in Sukuna’s lip, your attempts probably failed.

“it’s good to see you too, doll.” he almost purrs, eyes drifting up and down the sight of your body in a tight dress, “won’t you turn around for me?” he teases, licking his lips.

yet you remain still, raising a brow and crossing your arms, taking a peek at the now empty room.

“come on, sweetheart, just one turn, for me?” Sukuna grins, sliding a thumb over his bottom lip, “i’ll answer all your questions later” and you’re pliant enough to comply, twirling around with a slight burn in your face, questioning him once again.

his grin never falters, only increasing with your cute actions, deciding to stand up and calmly walk towards the clothing rack, humming in delight at the beautiful garments that would look absolutely stunning on his bedroom floor, “can’t a man shop freely now?” he teases, handing you a matching skirt and top set in an oddly similar color to his hair.

“yeah? i had no idea you liked to shop at an all women’s store” you tease back, allowing for Sukuna to rest his hand on your waist, his whole self made you weak in the knees, a whiff of his cologne and you wanted more.

he chuckles, deeply and rumbling on his chest, making you bite back a whine as his hand guides you to the dressing room, his voice dropping to an intimate level, yet he still bends down to breath against your ear, “then, would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” Sukuna whispers, pressing his lips against your nape; you’re not certain of what moment he made you get into the room and close the door softly behind him, only your reflection in the mirror bringing you back to reality, “you’re awfully hard to find, sweetheart” hands trail down your sides, squeezing the sides of your breasts just slightly, “has your daddy been keeping you away from me? did he find out about the lewd things I did to his precious daughter?”

you can’t help the soft moan off your lips at the sensation of the man’s bulge pressing on your lower back, the sight of his large, filled with rings and tattooed hands cupping your body made you dizzy, Sukuna having to bend down to easily nip on your nape, and gently brush your hair out of the way.

“he doesn’t know”

“he doesn’t?, that’s a pity, i’d love to see his reaction when he finds out i’m the one making you this wet and pliant” he chuckles, fingers dancing around the slit on the dress, so sensually your knees bucked, threatening to make you fall if it weren’t because of his arm around your waist.

you whine, “don’t... say that”

“it’s the truth, princess, there’s nothing else I want than having the world know you’re mine” Sukuna groans, raising the hem of your dress and maintaining it tightly under his arm, his other free hand gently cupping your jaw, tilting your head up so you meet his gaze through the mirror, “eyes on me, watch who’s making you feel this good”

with a last nibble on your neck, Sukuna roughly pushes your panties down, not wasting any time in sliding his digits through your drenched slit, coating your clit in your own scent. he’s rock hard at this point, breath coming out ragged in sheer desperation to be buried in your cunt, besides from the lewd picture you paint in the mirror, eyes glossy, lips parted and letting out the cutest sounds he has ever heard.

another trait of Sukuna, is that he’s not patient, in the slightest, so when a finger urgently slips inside your warm walls you shudder in response, hips bucking, almost flopping forward by the tremble in your legs, “good girl, so wet for me” he rasps, licking a fat strip down your neck and towards your shoulder, maintaining eye contact like his life depends on it.

“more...” you beg and his resolve crumbles, his initial plan of making you shiver and beg quickly by wanting to give you what you need, you make him go dizzy, you make him want to give you whoever you ask for, kiss the floor where you step.

“my greedy girl” Sukuna groans, rubbing his cheek with yours as another finger plunges in, messily fucking your hole that drips slick down his wrist, then another until your nails dig in his arm, “you’re ready for me, aren't you?” his voice is low and raspy, hidden lust behind each gasp. Sukuna is quick to undo his pants, cock bobbing in arousal, already dripping with precum as he guides the tip to your pussy, slowly sinking in with his breath hitching, “there we go”

if you weren’t looking at him, Sukuna would be very certain his rolls could have rolled back at the wetness and tightness of your cunt swallowing him inch by inch, his cock pulsing, “fuck, princess, it’s as good as I remember” he licks his lips, tightening his grip on your waist and slightly bending you further in the air.

“your body is begging for it, I can feel your count spasming around me” he smiles, thrusting in deeper, harder, making you take more of his incredible length until his heavy and full balls are nestled on your ass.

“’Kuna...!” you mewl, eyes hooded, threatening to fall shut but the explicit sight of Sukuna filling your hole made you resist, only fueling your desire and lust.

“yes, sweetheart, that’s right, it’s Sukuna the one making your pussy feel so good” he groans, hands grazing your sides in a tight grip before pulling back and forcefully slamming his cock inside, heart racing at the sound of your moans and sticky pussy squelching around his girth.

“o—ohh! fuck!” you moan, half scream at the rough pace Sukuna sets, forcing your body to jolt back and forth, tits about to fall from the low neckline of the expensive dress you tried on, you definitely had to buy it now, “too deep!

he groans in return, “the deeper the better” voice is slightly shaky, “i can reach your cervix properly” it’s a promise, to fill your fertile womb once again like he did weeks ago.

there’s sobs and moans echoing in the room, mixed with the sounds of your mixed juices, and Sukuna is only fueled by them, his hips pounding faster, most definitely leaving your ass sore from the brutal way his balls and hips slam against your soft skin. he holds no respect for your possible future uncomfortableness, only thinking of claiming your cunt.

“i’m close” Sukuna groans, sliding a hand between your drenched legs, pressing two fingers against your clit and messily rubbing in desperate circles, slightly embarrassed of the fact you’re going to make him cum so much and so soon, but how can you blame him when your pussy squeezes him like a tight grip, as if begging him for more.

leaning down he claims your lips, it’s as sloppy as his thrusts and wet as your slick dripping down his cock, “need you to cum with me” he murmurs.

“close!” you manage to cry out against his mouth, only for a brief second before his tongue plunges into your mouth again, swallowing your sounds but allowing the noise of your pussy to resonate, “oh, S-sukuna! i’m cumming” you cry, and there’s the precious and slutty expression he loves so much, eyes crossed as you shudder on his cock, trembling so much he would have been afraid you’d fall, but Sukuna is quicker, selfishly keeping you up to shoot his thick sperm deep in your willing pussy, a deep growl rumbling on the walls as he pumps you, a couple of times so he’s sure his cum would take.

“so gorgeous” he rasps, breathless, meeting your hazy eyes through the mirror while mindlessly rubbing your belly, “i’ll take care of you, my love, i’ll give you whatever your heart desires..., but in return, I just ask for one thing” he murmurs, “let me creampie your tight pussy every single day.”

that’s certainly Sukuna’s own way of asking you out.

🔖𖹭 @yuujispinkhair @valleydoli @hyeinwluv85s @sadmonke @ryomance @inzanekillian @emilymikado @r-ryuko09

[chosok-amo]

GENTLE LOVE : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“loving you is the easiest thing,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and comforting, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for you.

wc. 8,9k | m.list

it was almost midnight when you found yourself grumbling under your breath, cursing your two upperclassmen for dragging you into this late-night escapade. you tugged at the hem of your hello kitty pink pajamas, the fabric flapping slightly in the cool breeze that swept through the empty park. your hair, loose and free, danced in the wind as you shivered, regretting not grabbing a jacket on your way out.

the park was eerily quiet, the moonlight casting long shadows from the trees onto the pathway. as you trudged along, your slippers making soft thuds on the pavement, you finally spotted them: gojo and geto, casually lounging like it wasn’t nearing the early hours of the morning.

gojo, still dressed in his uniform, was sitting on a bench with an ice cream cone in hand, his legs stretched out in front of him as if he had all the time in the world. his bright white hair practically glowed under the dim park lights, a stark contrast to the dark surroundings. next to him, geto stood with his usual calm demeanor, already changed into his comfortable, oversized attire—a black sweatshirt and sweatpants. he had an ice cream cone of his own, and a plastic bag dangled from his wrist, likely filled with more midnight snacks they somehow thought were worth dragging you out here for.

you approached them, your face scrunched in annoyance. “you idiots do realize it's almost midnight, right?” you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your irritation despite the amusing sight of the two of them indulging in ice cream as if they were on a casual afternoon outing.

“of course we do,” gojo responded nonchalantly, licking his ice cream and ignoring your glare before gesturing to the empty space beside him, “come sit down and stop complaining already.”

geto chimed in, a sly smile playing at his lips as he took a bite from his own ice cream. “don't be such a buzzkill. you're here now, might as well enjoy the night air with us.” you had barely taken a seat on the bench when gojo's grin widened, his eyes raking over your hello kitty pink pajamas. he tried to stifle a laugh, but it quickly burst out, echoing through the quiet park. “seriously? hello kitty? aren’t you a little old for that?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he nudged you playfully with his elbow.

geto chuckled as well, eyeing your pajamas. “gotta admit it's pretty adorable, though.”

gojo leaned in closer, still grinning. “aww, look at you, all cozy in your kitty jammies,” he teased, pinching the fabric at your shoulder between his fingers, “you look like you should be tucked in bed and not out here with us.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head as he eyed your outfit with an amused smirk. “i thought you’d come out in something at least a little more... you know, grown-up,” he added, his voice calm but clearly entertained. “i mean, it’s cute, but definitely not what i expected from you.”

you glared at them both, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “well, excuse me for not having a runway-worthy wardrobe at midnight,” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. “at least i’m dressed for comfort, unlike someone who’s still in his uniform,” you added, shooting a pointed look at gojo.

gojo chuckled, patting the edge of his uniform blazer. “hey, don't hate on my style. this uniform's part of my charm.” geto leaned back against the backrest after he was taking a sit, still wearing that smirking. “more like a part of your ego,” he quipped, earning a roll of the eyes from gojo.

“oh, shut up,” gojo retorted, returning his full attention to you. “besides, you're the one who couldn't be bothered to change out of those baby pajamas.”

geto snorted at gojo’s remark, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “isn’t it past your bedtime already?” he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully as he glanced at you. you shot him a sassy look, crossing your arms and giving him a mock glare. “oh, please,” you retorted. “like you’re one to talk about bedtime. you’re the one hanging out in oversized sweatpants like a toddler, what are you? 2? at least my pajamas are cute.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head at your response. “touché,” he admitted, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. gojo snickered, watching the banter between you two with amusement. then he turned his smirk towards you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “you know, speaking of toddlers, with those cute little jammies, you're practically begging for a bedtime story.”

he leaned in closer, his gaze lingering on the cartoon kitties printed on your pjs, “you want us to tuck you in and read you a goodnight tale?” you groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes so hard you nearly gave yourself a headache. “oh, for the love of—stop it already,” you grumbled, standing up from the bench and making a show of sulking.

you started to walk back toward the dorm, but gojo was quick to act. He leaped up and blocked your path, a playful grin still plastered on his face. “oh no, you don’t,” he said, holding out his hand to gently stop you. “we’re not letting you escape this easily.”

geto chuckled as he didn't move an inch, watching the scene unfold with amusement. “come on, don’t be like that. we’re just having fun.” gojo's hand on your shoulder was firm, his grip gentle but preventing you from escaping. his smirk widened as he watched you pout with annoyance. “yeah, where do you think you're going? we didn't drag you out here to ditch us now.”

geto chimed in, still slouching on the bench. “you're stuck with us for a while still. so sit back down and enjoy the night. or are you just gonna sulk all night?” you groaned loudly, feeling the frustration bubble up again. “ugh, so annoying,” you muttered under your breath, stomping your feet as you turned back toward the bench.

gojo chuckled, satisfied that you were returning to the bench. he took his place beside you again, his arm casually slung over the backrest.

“see, that's a good girl,” he teased, his smirk widening, “no need to throw a tantrum.” geto rolled his eyes at his comment but still had that smirk on his face. “yeah, don't be such a drama queen,” he chimed in, enjoying the moment. gojo’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile as he held out his ice cream to you. “here, have some more,” he said, his tone a bit more soothing. “it’ll help with that attitude of yours.”

geto followed suit, handing you his ice cream with a playful grin. “yeah, we don’t want you sulking the whole night. we’re just here to have a good time,” he added, leaning back and clearly enjoying your reactions.

you took the ice cream from them, feeling a bit of the tension ease away as you accepted their offering. “alright, alright,” you said, though your annoyance had already started to melt away. “i’ll take the ice cream. just stop with the teasing for a bit.” both of them exchanged amused glances, their grins not fading. “deal,” gojo said, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “now, let’s just enjoy the night.”

you took a bite of the ice cream, the cold sweetness helping to calm your irritation. despite their constant teasing, you found yourself smiling, realizing that, for all their antics, they really did make these late-night outings enjoyable.

gojo and geto exchanged a satisfied look as they saw your mood gradually improving. watching your expression soften with each bite of the ice cream was like a victory for them.

“see, we knew the sweet stuff would mellow you out,” gojo commented, a smug smile playing at his lips. geto chuckled, nodding, “yeah, nothing like some ice cream to chase away the grumpy mood.” he leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “we've still got some snacks left, though. want something else?”

you took another bite of the ice cream, feeling your mood continue to improve. with a contented sigh, you looked at geto and shook your head. “i’m okay for now,” you said, offering them a small smile. “i’ll take the snacks later.”

as you continued eating your ice cream, you felt geto’s fingers gently run through the back of your hair, combing through it with a tender touch. the sensation was soothing, and you couldn’t help but notice how often they found little ways to be physically close to you, even if it was just a gentle touch.

you glanced at geto, his eyes soft as he focused on the simple gesture. you had come to realize over the past months that this was their way of staying connected—always finding subtle ways to show affection without overstepping any boundaries.

gojo saw the tender moment between you and geto, his hand in your hair, and he felt a pang of jealousy. he knew geto had always been more openly affectionate, but he didn't want to be left out.

without a word, he scooted closer to you on the bench, his thigh touching yours. he leaned in, invading your personal space, and feigned a shiver. “god, it's cold tonight,” he commented, his voice taking on a mocking tone, “you think i could share some of your warmth, princess? it's freezing.”

“you guys really are touch-starved, huh?” you commented with a soft chuckle, your tone light but acknowledging the need you’d noticed. geto smiled, his fingers continuing their gentle movement. “just a bit,” he admitted, looking content. “it’s nice to be close to you. we don’t get to do this often enough.”

you rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through you. “well, as long as it’s not too overwhelming, i guess i can handle it,” you said, leaning into his touch and letting yourself relax a bit more.

gojo let out a mock gasp of offense, his smirk not fading. “did you just call us touch-starved?” he feigned a pout, raising an eyebrow, “we're not that desperate, are we?”

despite his protests, he was secretly enjoying the fact that you were acknowledging their fondness for physical touch. he leaned even closer to you, his body pressing against yours, “oh come on, admit it. you love the attention.”

you raised an eyebrow, giving gojo a sarcastic look. “love the attention? from constantly getting surrounded by a couple of giant babies? not really,” you replied, your tone dripping with mock exasperation.

gojo feigned a look of shock, clutching a hand to his chest. “oh, wounded,” he dramatically exclaimed, a smirk still on his face. “we're not babies! we're just, you know, physically affectionate.”

geto chuckled at the exchange, his hand continuing its gentle stroking through your hair, “yeah, we can't help it if we crave your company. you're like our walking, talking stress reliever.” you tilted your head slightly, a playful grin spreading across your face as you looked at geto. “so, am i doing a good job as your walking, talking stress reliever?” you asked, your tone light and teasing.

geto’s eyes met yours with a soft, appreciative smile. “oh, absolutely,” he said, his hand continuing its gentle movement through your hair. “you’re perfect at it. couldn’t ask for a better stress reliever.” gojo rolled his eyes dramatically at geto's response. “oh, come on,” he interjected, a playful pout on his lips. “don't hog all the credit. i'm a pretty fantastic stress reliever too, you know.”

he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer to him and away from geto. “can't have you getting too attached to just one of us.” you let out an exaggerated groan and rolled your eyes. “oh, please, don’t get all cringe-worthy now,” you said, wrinkling your nose as gojo pulled you closer.

you nudged him playfully, still shaking your head. “if you guys are going to use me as your personal stress reliever, you should start sending me some money for my services,” you added with a teasing grin. gojo laughed at your response, his arm still around your shoulder. “oh, so now you want monetary compensation for being our stress relief toy? how much do you want?”

geto, not wanting to be left out, chimed in, “yeah, name your price. we're willing to pay top dollar for your services.” you squinted at them, giving them a bemused look. “why do you guys talk like i’m some kind of hooker?” you asked, your tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

gojo's smirk widened, “who said anything about hookers? we're just talking about your value as a stress reliever.”

geto chimed in, his tone playful, “yeah, you're priceless, you know. we'd pay a fortune to keep you around.” you gave them a disgusted look, shaking your head. “i swear, everything that comes out of your mouths sometimes sounds so inappropriate,” you said, your tone exasperated but with a hint of amusement. gojo chuckled at your disapproving look. “hey, blame it on our naturally filthy minds. it's just who we are.”

geto grinned, his hand finally leaving your hair, “yeah, you know you love it. deep down, you probably find it entertaining.” you rolled your eyes, reaching over to smack the back of their heads. “assholes,” you muttered, your tone more playful than serious.

after spending some time at the park, you thought the night was coming to a peaceful close, but gojo and geto had other plans. they’d decided, on a whim, to drag you out for a midnight hike up a nearby hill—while you were still in your pajamas.

you trudged up the path, feeling the chilly night air against your skin, your pajamas doing little to keep you warm. “this is my life now,” you complained dramatically, “i’ve climbed this hill, and now i’ll die upon it!”

gojo, leading the way, glanced back with an amused smirk. “shut up, we’ve only been hiking for five minutes,” he shot back, clearly entertained by your theatrics.

“yeah, quit your whining,” geto added from behind, his soft chuckle barely audible over the sound of your footsteps. “it’s not even that far, and you’re doing great.”

you shot a look back at geto, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “seriously, though? dragging me out here in the middle of the night when i’m in pajamas? you two are insufferable.”

gojo turned around, walking backward with a grin. “come on, it’ll be worth it. the view from the top is amazing. just a little bit more.” with a dramatic sigh, you kept trudging along, determined not to let them have the satisfaction of seeing you give up. “fine, fine. but i’m holding you both responsible for my inevitable suffering.”

geto’s laughter echoed in the cool night air as he followed closely behind you. “deal. just keep going, and you’ll see it was worth it.” the night stretched on as you climbed higher, and despite your grumbling, there was a sense of quiet camaraderie in the air. it was the kind of absurd adventure that you’d look back on with a smile—though for now, the thought of your warm bed seemed like the true peak of the night.

gojo continued to lead the way, his pace steady and his spirits high. each step up the hill seemed to fuel his energy. “come on, princess, don't complain so much. you're still in your adorable hello kitty pajamas.”

geto was right behind you, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to your dramatic behavior, “yeah, just a little bit further. you can do it. we promise it'll be worth it.” you felt their hands tighten around yours, and you glanced at them with a sarcastic smile. “oh, wonderful, i’m being supported by the world’s most enthusiastic hill-climbers,” you said, your tone dripping with mock enthusiasm. “just what i needed.”

gojo’s grin widened, clearly pleased with your reaction. “see? we’re not so bad. we just want to make sure you’re okay.” geto chuckled at your sarcastic remark, “yeah, we're just being helpful guides on your little midnight adventure. think of us as your personal sherpas.”

gojo chimed in, his tone was light and playful, “and hey, you gotta admit, we're pretty great company. who else would drag you out on a hill climb like this?” you rolled your eyes, giving them an annoyed look. “personal sherpas, huh? more like personal tormentors,” you said, shaking your head. “and yeah, i guess I’d be hard-pressed to find anyone else crazy enough to drag me out in pajamas for a midnight hike.”

gojo chuckled at your exasperated expression. “hey, we prefer the term 'enthusiastic adventure planners' as for the pajamas, well, we think they're just adding to the hiking experience.” geto chimed in with a cheeky smile, “yeah, you look adorable in your hello kitty jammies, even if they're not exactly hiking-appropriate.”

once the three of you reached the top of the hill, you looked out at the city lights spread before you. with your hands on your hips, you turned to look at gojo and geto, who were both smiling at the view with evident satisfaction.

you couldn’t help but frown as you took in the sight. with a dramatic sigh, you smacked both of their chests. “the view is shit,” you complained, shaking your head. “i climbed all the way up here for this?” gojo let out an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be wounded by your complaint. “hey, we worked hard to drag your whining ass up here.”

geto chuckled, looking amused at your response. “yeah, and you’re supposed to appreciate the view, not just complain about it.” you rolled your eyes dramatically, crossing your arms. “oh, yeah, appreciate the view,” you said sarcastically. “the city lights are just so dull. and let’s not forget, it’s freezing up here.”

you shivered slightly, adding with a mock shiver, “i’m practically turning into an ice sculpture. so, thanks for that, too.” gojo chuckled at your constant complaints. “man, you really are a master of complaining, aren't you? the view isn't dull, it's just not exciting enough for your high standards."

geto chimed in, still amused by your dramatic responses. “yeah, and it's not even that cold. grow some thicker skin, princess.” you turned to geto with a raised eyebrow. “oh, yeah? how about you be a gentleman and give me your sweatshirt, then?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

geto chuckled at your demand, raising an eyebrow as well. “oh, so now you're using your feminine wiles to try and get your way, huh?” gojo chimed in with a smirk, clearly enjoying the exchange, “yeah, playing the damsel in distress, all shivering and cute.”

you grumbled, clearly annoyed by their teasing. “useless,” you muttered under your breath as you sat down on the grass, your feet aching from the climb. gojo and geto exchanged amused glances, watching as you took a seat without saying anything more.

gojo chuckled, his eyes watching you closely as you sat down. “oh, look, the complaining princess has finally decided to take a break.” geto smirked, looking down at you as you sat on the grass, “yeah, those cute little feet got tired, huh?” you pouted, giving them both a look of exaggerated exasperation. “it hurts,” you admitted, rubbing your feet slightly, “and it’s not exactly comfortable up here, you know.”

gojo kneeled down beside you, pretending to be sympathetic, “oh, poor princess, your dainty feet can't handle a little bit of cold grass.” geto chuckled, sitting down next to you as well. “yeah, this isn't exactly the luxury penthouse you're used to, huh?”

you continued to pout, rubbing your ankle with a slight wince, refusing to respond to their teasing. gojo and geto exchanged a look, their playful expressions softening as they watched you, the usual mischief in their eyes replaced by something more gentle.

“alright, alright,” gojo finally said, letting out a small laugh. “we’re sorry, princess. didn’t mean to push you too hard.” geto sighed, a hint of a smile on his lips as he shrugged off his sweatshirt. “here,” he said, draping it over your shoulders. “was planning to give it to you anyway, just had to get my teasing in first.”

you glanced up at him, your pout easing slightly as you pulled the sweatshirt closer around you. it was warm, and you could smell geto’s familiar scent, which made you feel a little better. “thanks,” you mumbled, still sulking a bit but grateful nonetheless. “see?” gojo grinned, leaning in closer. “we’re not completely useless, right?”

geto nudged your side gently. “and we’ll make it up to you. promise.” you let out a small, reluctant laugh, their warmth and light-heartedness slowly melting away your annoyance. “so annoying,” you murmur with a small smile on your face.

gojo chuckled at your grumbled response, his smile growing wider. “yeah, we're pretty damn annoying, but you love us for it.” geto watched you as you pulled his sweatshirt tighter around you, a soft expression on his face. he reached over and gently ruffled your hair. “see? being annoying has its perks, doesn't it?” gojo leaned in closer, his expression mischievous, “yeah, our annoyingness comes with a side of pretty damn good rewards, princess.”

as you sat there, wrapped in geto's sweatshirt and surrounded by their annoying but loveable presence, the three of you settled into a comfortable silence. the city lights continued to glimmer in the distance, and the cool night air carried a hint of chill.

gojo and geto sat on either side of you, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. they watched you intently, waiting to see if your sulky demeanor would give way entirely. you let out a small sigh, deciding to just give in to the moment. without a word, you shifted and lay back on the grass, eyes fixed on the sky above. the cool blades tickled your skin through geto’s sweatshirt, but it was oddly comforting.

the city lights below seemed less dull from this angle, mingling with the stars in a quiet, understated way. it wasn’t exactly the grand view you expected, but maybe that was okay. gojo glanced down at you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “getting comfy?” he teased lightly, though there was a warmth in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed.

geto followed suit, stretching out beside you on the grass, his arm brushing against yours, “see? not so bad when you relax a little, huh?” you didn’t bother responding, just stared up at the sky, feeling their presence beside you. maybe they were annoying, but moments like this made it worth it. without looking at them, you let the silence speak for itself, a faint hint of a smile playing on your lips.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions replaced with ones of fond amusement. they knew they had broken through your initial annoyance, and now they were just enjoying this quiet moment with you.

lying on either side of you, they followed your gaze upward, looking at the stars shining above. the city lights in the distance provided a soft, ambient glow, adding to the peaceful atmosphere. after a moment, gojo chuckled softly, reaching out to playfully poke your side, “you're quiet. that either means you're still annoyed, or you're actually enjoying this.”

you felt geto's arm gently lift your head, and you didn’t resist as he slipped it under, letting it serve as a makeshift pillow. it was warm and oddly comforting, his familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket.

you turned your head slightly to glance at gojo, still pouting a little but softened by the quiet peace of the moment. “i mean, it's not the worst,” you admitted, your voice carrying a playful hint of reluctance, “i guess this is... kinda nice.”

gojo grinned, his finger still poking at your side, “i knew you'd come around. you just needed some convincing.” geto chuckled softly, his arm shifting a bit to make sure you were comfortable. “and some decent company,” he added, his voice low and calm. you let out a small huff, but the corner of your lips betrayed you with the slightest upturn. “yeah, yeah. just don't get used to it, you two.”

but even as you said it, you settled more comfortably into geto’s arm, the three of you lying there in the quiet night, enjoying the simple, unexpected pleasure of each other's presence. gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he observed your softening expression. “oh, princess, you can deny it all you want, but we know you’re enjoying this deep down. we just have that effect on you, don’t we?”

geto chimed in, his voice carrying an amused tone. “yeah, and the way you’re snuggling into my arm isn’t exactly subtle, either. it's cute when you act all tough but then can’t resist the charm of your two favorite jerks.” you let out a quiet scoff, rolling your eyes at their relentless teasing. as much as you wanted to keep up the act, you couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in your chest at their words. their playful banter, the way they made it a point to draw a smile out of you, it was all annoyingly endearing.

you shifted slightly, making yourself more comfortable against geto’s arm, but you didn’t bother giving them a response. instead, you just gazed up at the sky, letting the sounds of their laughter and the cool breeze fill the silence.

it was one of those rare moments where words weren’t needed. surrounded by the soft glow of city lights and the comforting presence of your two favorite idiots, you found yourself genuinely content, even if you’d never admit it out loud. your scoff lingered in the air, a small sign of your silent surrender to their antics, and in return, they both smiled, satisfied with the quiet victory.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing smirk, silently pleased with your reaction. they knew they had won this little battle of wills, and the look on your face said it all.

lying there under the starry sky, gojo reached over and gently ruffled your hair. “look at you, all cozy and relaxed. we think you secretly love this little adventure, princess.” geto chuckled softly, his hand idly rubbing small circles on your arm. “yeah, we knew you'd come around and admit that spending time with us isn't so bad after all.”

you glanced between them, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts to keep it hidden. their warmth, their teasing, and even their relentless persistence—everything about this moment felt oddly comforting.

“maybe,” you mumbled softly, not quite ready to give them the satisfaction of a full admission, but just enough to let them know that you didn’t entirely hate it. gojo’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned in closer, his grin widening. “we’ll take that ‘maybe’ as a win,” he declared, his tone triumphant.

geto nodded, his gentle touch still lingering on your arm. “yeah, that’s basically a ‘yes’ in your language,” he teased, his voice low and fond. you rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t argue further, allowing yourself to just soak in the peace of the moment. maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind this little midnight adventure after all.

gojo chuckled, clearly satisfied with your reluctant admission. “see? we knew you couldn’t resist our irresistible charm. you’re secretly a big ol’ softie.” geto’s smile widened at gojo’s words, his hand continuing its soothing circles on your arm. “yeah, deep down, you wouldn’t trade this for anything. admit it.” the two of them looked down at you, their expressions filled with a mix of amusement and affection as they waited for your response.

the quiet of the night settled around the three of you, the cool grass beneath you and the stars above painting a serene backdrop. your eyes stayed fixed on the vast sky, the scattered constellations offering a calm distraction from the earlier banter.

gojo’s finger brushed against yours, a soft and tentative touch, like he was testing the waters, unsure if you’d pull away or let him linger. but you didn’t move, didn’t say a word—just let the gentle contact continue, finding an unexpected comfort in the subtle connection.

geto’s arm under your head provided a steady warmth, his presence equally calming. though neither of them spoke, their proximity and the quiet sounds of their breathing beside you felt like a silent reassurance—an unspoken promise that, despite the teasing and the occasional annoyances, they were right where they wanted to be: by your side.

for once, you didn’t feel the need to complain or roll your eyes. instead, you allowed yourself to simply exist in the moment, the cool breeze, the faint rustle of leaves, and the distant hum of city lights below making everything feel strangely perfect. maybe, you thought, this wasn’t such a bad place to be after all.

gojo and geto continued their subtle touches, silently enjoying the peaceful moment. they could sense that you were relaxed and content, and for once, they didn’t press you to say anything.

gojo's finger gently traced a lazy pattern on the back of your hand, his touch barely perceptible. geto's arm underneath your head held you close, his presence steady and comforting. the night deepened as the three of you lay there under the vast sky, the silence stretching on as if the world had slowed down, just for this moment.

after a while, gojo finally broke the silence, his voice soft and thoughtful, “you know, i never thought I'd say this, but this isn’t too bad.“

geto hummed in agreement, his arm adjusting slightly under your head. “yeah, usually our little adventures involve more chaos and less quiet relaxation.” gojo chuckled quietly, his finger still tracing small circles on your hand. “yeah, usually we’re the ones causing the trouble, not lying in the grass like some peace-loving hippies.”

geto chuckled as well, joining in on the playful banter. “yeah, and you’re usually the one complaining the loudest, princess.”

gojo smirked, lifting his free hand and lightly pinching your cheek. “yeah, but we’ve already established that deep down, you secretly love our annoying antics. that’s why you keep hanging out with us.” you huffed, rolling your eyes at their relentless teasing. “please, let’s not pretend i have a choice here. you two are the ones who keep forcing me to hang out. if i ever tried to bail, you’d just terrorize me until i gave in—or worse, have suguru’s rainbow dragon hunt me down.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening. “damn right we’d keep terrorizing you. if we couldn’t win you over with our charm, we’d just resort to pestering you till you said yes.” geto chimed in, a sly smile creeping across his face, “and you know we’d do it too. we don’t give up that easily.” a pause hung in the air as both of them eyed you expectantly, waiting for your response. they knew they had a point, but they also knew you weren't likely to admit that you secretly enjoyed their company.

you sighed, rolling your eyes as their smug expressions continued to linger. “shut up, both of you,” you mumbled, trying to stifle a smile. “can we just enjoy a quiet moment for once without you two yapping your asses off?”

gojo chuckled, but he respected your request, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “alright, alright. we'll give the princess some peace and quiet.”

geto nodded, still grinning but now in silence, his hand gently squeezing yours in acknowledgment. the three of you settled back into a comfortable quiet, the sounds of the city below fading away as you all focused on the stillness of the night, the stars above, and the quiet but undeniable warmth of being together.

as the quiet settled around you once again, a thought occurred to geto. he glanced over at you, his voice quiet but curious. “hey, y/n,” he began. gojo glanced over as well, his eyes fixed on you, anticipating the question. you hummed softly as the answer. geto continued, his tone thoughtful. “have you ever made a wish on a shooting star?”

you stayed silent for a moment, eyes fixed on the vast expanse of the sky above, tracing the faint outlines of distant stars. the night was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional distant hum of the city below. after a brief pause, a soft chuckle escaped your lips. “yeah,” you finally answered, still gazing upwards, “i have.”

gojo perked up, a look of mild surprise on his face. “really?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. geto raised an eyebrow, turning to look at you with a hint of intrigue in his eyes. “huh, i didn't take you for the superstitious type.” you shrugged slightly, still looking up at the sky, “i didn't, but i was pretty desperate at the time.”

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with curiosity. they knew that you weren't one to casually make wishes on shooting stars. “yeah?” gojo prompted, his voice a mix of interest and concern, “what was so desperate that you needed to make a wish on a shooting star?”

you hesitated for a moment, biting your lip as you weighed your options. after a long pause, you sighed and looked back up at the sky. “it’s… something i want the most,” you finally said, your voice quiet but honest, “something i didn’t think i could get any other way.”

gojo and geto grew quiet, their expressions turning thoughtful. they could sense the seriousness in your tone and knew that this wasn't a light-hearted request. there was a moment of silence as the two of them exchanged a glance, a silent question passing between them. finally, gojo spoke up again.

“what was it that you wished for?” he asked softly, his voice gentle. you shifted slightly in geto's embrace, feeling his warmth against you as you took a breath. “gentle love,” you admitted softly, the words hanging in the air. there was a brief silence as you all absorbed the weight of your confession.

a quiet laugh escaped your lips, breaking the stillness. “it’s silly, i know,” you muttered, your tone light but a bit self-conscious. “sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, huh?” there was another brief moment of silence as the two of them processed your words. they glanced at each other again, sensing the vulnerability behind your confession.

then, gojo chuckled softly, breaking the silence. “no, it’s not ridiculous,” he reassured, his voice gentle and sincere. geto spoke up as well, his hand gently squeezing yours, “yeah, don’t worry, princess. it’s not silly at all.”

a few moments passed before gojo spoke up again, his voice a little quieter, “can i ask you something?” geto remained silent, his eyes fixed on you, waiting to see where this was going.

again, you softly hummed.

gojo shifted a bit, his eyes locked on yours, “what does ‘gentle love’ mean to you?” geto watched you closely, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. you smiled softly, your eyes drifting to the stars above. “i want gentle love,” you murmured, your voice filled with quiet longing. “that kind of love where he rubs my cheek with his thumb, where he kisses me over and over until we're laughing.”

you continued, your gaze distant as you pictured the tender moments in your mind. “where he uses his fingers to make circles on my hand, kisses my shoulder when i’m looking away, tucks my hair behind my ears, and kisses my forehead.”

a wistful sigh escaped your lips. “long hugs, rubbing my back when i lay on his chest… where he treats me like i'm delicate.” you paused, feeling the weight of your own words, before a small smile tugged at your lips, almost as if you were lost in a sweet daydream.

gojo and geto listened intently, their expressions soft as you described your yearning for gentle love. they could hear the earnest desire in your voice, the way your words painted a picture of quiet, tender affection.

there was a moment of silence as they took in your description, before gojo broke it. “that all sounds really nice,” he offered, his voice gentle. geto hummed in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you. “yeah, it does,” he said quietly, his hand giving yours a slight squeeze.bgojo shifted again, watching you closely. “have you... ever received that kind of love before?” he asked, his voice soft but curious. geto stayed silent, knowing that gojo's question might touch a nerve.

you glanced at gojo, your eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at his question. a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head gently. “no,” you admitted, your voice carrying a tinge of vulnerability. “that’s why i’m desperate.”

your words hung in the cool night air, the soft glow of the city lights in the distance reflecting the quiet longing in your heart. you felt gojo and geto's gazes on you, their expressions a mix of empathy and something unspoken, but you just kept your eyes on the sky, the stars above feeling like the only witness to your wish.

the three of you fell into a brief silence again as your words settled in. gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting to show a mix of understanding and concern.

gojo was the first to speak up, his voice a bit softer than usual. “but why does it have to be a shooting star? why not just...” he trailed off, not quite sure how to finish his thought. geto picked up where he left off, his voice equally soft. “yeah, why not just find someone who can give you that gentle love?”

you gently nudged gojo's chest, a soft smile tugging at your lips as he lay beside you. “i told you i was desperate,” you said, a light chuckle following your words. “when you want something that badly, you'll do anything— even something as silly as wishing on a shooting star.”

turning your head slightly, you meet geto's eyes, your smile fading into something more contemplative. “it’s not that easy,” you admitted, your voice a bit quieter. “finding someone who truly understands that kind of love… it feels impossible sometimes.” you let out a small sigh, your gaze drifting back up to the sky.

gojo and geto didn’t have a response to that. they could feel the weight of your hopeless feeling, the resignation that crept into your voice.

geto's grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly, a silent reassurance that he was listening. gojo, meanwhile, found himself unable to find anything to say that would ease the heaviness in the air. after a few moments of silence, gojo finally spoke up, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of disbelief. “how could it be impossible? you're not that difficult to love.”

your heart quickened at gojo’s words, a flicker of warmth spreading through the ache you’d long carried. for as long as you could remember, you’d believed you were harder to love—your parents’ dismissiveness and constant comparisons to your siblings only cemented that belief. but hearing gojo say that, even in his casual tone, felt like a balm to your wounded heart.

you turned your head slightly, catching gojo’s gaze. his eyes were sincere, a quiet intensity in them that told you he meant every word. something shifted in your chest, a mix of hope and disbelief, and for a moment, you found yourself struggling to find the right response. all you could manage was a small, genuine smile, the weight of your unspoken fears still hanging between you but just a little lighter now. “thanks,” you finally whispered, the simple word carrying all the gratitude and vulnerability you couldn’t quite voice.

gojo smiled back, his eyes meeting yours. he could tell that his words had touched a chord in you, and despite the lighthearted tone of his comment, he meant it. geto, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, stayed quietly beside you, his arm still wrapped around you, his presence a gentle reassurance.

gojo's expression softened as he continued to look at you, his voice warm. “you really have no idea how lovable you are, do you?” gojo leaned closer, propping himself up on his elbow. his eyes never left yours, the sincerity in them more intense than before. he gently pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “loving you is the easiest thing,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and comforting, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for you.

when he pulled back, his expression was filled with a mix of affection and gentle confidence. “as your upperclassman, i can guarantee it—loving you is as easy as a snap of the fingers.” he snapped his fingers playfully, a warm smile spreading across his face, the kind that reached his eyes and made you feel seen and cherished in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

geto watched from beside you, a smile playing on his lips as he observed the tenderness in gojo’s actions. he had seen gojo in many moods—arrogant, playful, and careless—but this version of him, the one who was gentle and sincere, was reserved for rare moments like these.

as gojo pulled back from his affectionate gesture, geto spoke up softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, but also a genuine fondness. “he’s right, you know,” he added, glancing at you. “loving you might just be the easiest thing people can do.”

you smiled, the warmth from their words seeping into your chest, filling it with a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. “aww, thank you, guys,” you said, your tone playful but laced with sincerity. “aren't you the sweetest when you're not being annoying and acting like assholes?”

gojo chuckled at your light-hearted response, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated annoyance. “i'm always sweet,” he protested, feigning offense. “you're just too dense to see it most of the time.”

geto chuckled as well, his arm tightening around you very slightly. “oh, please,” he chimed in, his smirk playful, “you're nothing more than a loud-mouthed annoyance most days, and we all know it.”

as gojo let out an exaggerated gasp of outrage and opened his mouth to protest, you chuckle. “oh c’mon, don’t deny it,” you teased. “we all know you’re a pain in the ass more than you're a sweetheart.” gojo looked like he was about to argue, but then he huffed and crossed his arms, a small pout on his face. “you're both so mean to me,” he muttered, clearly not taking the banter too seriously.

geto chuckled warmly at gojo's mock sulk, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. he couldn't help but join in on picking on his friend. “well, we wouldn't have to be mean if you weren't so full of yourself all the time,” he pointed out, his smirk widening. gojo huffed in faux indignation, his pout deepening. “i am not full of myself. i'm just confident. there's a difference, you know?”

you chimed in again, your smile widening as gojo continued to pout. “yeah, that’s what happens when you act like a big brat all the time. you reap what you sow,” you agreed with geto's.

gojo's pout turned into a full-on frown at your words, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. “hey, i do not act like a brat,” he protested, his voice edging on a whine.

geto, sensing an opportunity to tease him further, couldn't resist chiming in again. “oh, but you do,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “you act like a spoiled little kid who's always demanding attention.” gojo's frown deepened as geto continued to dig into his ego. “i do not demand attention,” he argued, his voice rising slightly.

geto chuckled, not taking gojo's protests seriously. “oh, yes, you do. you're like a needy little puppy, always wanting to be noticed and fussed over.” you chuckled softly, shaking your head at their banter. watching them bicker like this was like witnessing a comedy routine unfold right before your eyes. “you guys are ridiculous,” you mumbled, amusement dancing in your voice.

leaning back on the grass, you glanced up at the sky again, still smiling. it was moments like these—lighthearted, carefree, and full of laughter—that made you cherish their presence even more. “but, honestly, i wouldn’t have it any other way,” you added, your voice soft but sincere, appreciating the warmth they brought to your life, even through their antics.

geto and gojo paused in their banter for a moment, their eyes shifting to you as you leaned back against the grass, looking up at the stars. gojo’s expression softened, his pout replaced by a small smile. he caught your eye for a second, his gaze warm and genuine.

geto's smile mirrored gojo's, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “yeah, same here,” he echoed your sentiment, his voice carrying a hint of affection that was as sincere as yours.

they fell into a brief silence as they all soaked in the peaceful surroundings. the laughter and light-hearted banter from moments ago had given way to a comfortable quiet, the only sounds being the distant sounds of the city and the gentle rustling of the grass. after a few moments, gojo spoke up again, his voice softer now. “you know, i really mean it,” he said, his eyes fixed on the night sky.

you glanced over at gojo, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. his sudden shift in tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you wondered what he was getting at. “mean what?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity as you tried to piece together what he was referring to.

the sincerity in his expression was unusual, and it made you slightly uneasy, unsure of where the conversation was headed. you turned your attention fully to him, your brow furrowing slightly as you waited for him to elaborate.

gojo's gaze shifted from the stars to you. he could sense the confusion and curiosity in your eyes, and it made his heart clench slightly. it was unusual for him to be this serious, and he knew you must be wondering what was on his mind.

he paused for a moment, his normally lighthearted gaze now filled with a sincerity that made it all the more impactful. “i meant what i said earlier,” he clarified, his voice low but genuine, “about loving you being the easiest thing.”

your breath caught at his words, the sincerity in his tone making your heart flutter. it was rare for gojo to be this earnest, and it threw you off balance, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond—his words were so simple, yet they carried a weight that settled deeply in your chest.

you glanced away, focusing on the stars again, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “you’re really something, satoru,” you mumbled softly, your voice betraying a mix of disbelief and gratitude. “i’m not used to hearing stuff like that.”

you glanced back at him briefly, catching the warm, reassuring look in his eyes, and felt your walls soften just a little more, “but… thank you. that means a lot.” gojo's heart warmed at your genuine reaction to his words. he could see the vulnerability in your eyes, the way his sincere comments had thrown you off guard. it was a new side of you that he hadn't seen before.

he smiled back, his eyes soft, watching as you looked away and back at the stars. as you thanked him and admitted you weren't used to hearing those words, he reached over and gently tugged on a strand of your hair, playful yet affectionate.

“you deserve to hear it more often,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of a promise. geto had been quietly listening, allowing gojo his moment with you. he observed the tender exchange, the way your guard was slowly lowering with each sincere word. he could see the impact of gojo’s words on you, the way your cheeks flushed slightly and your eyes shone with a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

he smiled softly, his hand still on your shoulder, a silent witness to the intimate conversation unfolding between the two of you. gojo watched as geto remained silent, his presence a steady, comforting presence behind you. gojo could practically feel geto's eyes on the two of you. he knew geto was observing, listening to the conversation unfold.

he turned his attention back to you, his gaze soft and affectionate. he was enjoying this moment, this rare opportunity to be open and vulnerable without his usual pretense.

“you really should get used to hearing it,” he repeated, his voice low and sincere. “everyone should be telling you how lovable you are all the time.” as gojo spoke again, his voice dripping with sincerity, geto could see your expression soften further. you were visibly affected by his words, struggling to process the compliments and vulnerability he was expressing.

he took a moment to observe you, the way your walls were slowly crumbling under gojo’s gentle yet firm persistence. it was a sight to behold, seeing someone so used to closing themselves off slowly opening up due to another’s affection.

you let out a soft sigh, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you—gratitude, vulnerability, and a touch of disbelief. pushing yourself up on your elbows, you gazed at the landscape stretched out before you, the city lights twinkling in the distance against the inky night sky.

with a small, almost wistful smile, you murmured, “eh, the view isn’t so bad,” your tone light but carrying an undercurrent of meaning. gojo propped himself up next to you, his eyes following your gaze to the cityscape in the distance. he chuckled lightly at your comment, understanding the double meaning behind your words.

“told ya,” he teased, a playful grin on his face. he could see the vulnerable expression you tried to hide beneath your light tone, and it made his heart clench slightly. geto, still laying behind you, noticed the exchange and smiled, his hand still gently rubbing your shoulder, a silent show of reassurance.

you glanced at the sky one more time before sighing softly, feeling the weight of the moment lingering between the three of you. shifting slightly, you gave them a small smile, trying to mask the emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

“we should probably get going,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled. “it's already so late.”

you started to push yourself up, brushing off the bits of grass clinging to your clothes. the quiet warmth of their company was something you’d savor, but you weren’t quite ready to linger in this vulnerability for much longer. as you stood, you glanced down at them, catching the way gojo’s playful grin softened and how geto’s reassuring smile never wavered. despite the lateness, you knew they’d both follow you anywhere, no questions asked.

as you started to stand up, gojo and geto exchanged a quick, knowing glance. they could sense your need to break the moment, to reestablish some distance after the vulnerability that had been revealed.

gojo pushed himself up after you, his grin now more gentle than playful. “yeah, let’s head back,” he agreed, his voice soft yet understanding. geto got up as well, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a second longer before he dropped it, the reassuring smile still on his face. “we still have class tomorrow,” he reminded playfully.

geto's eyes caught sight of his sweatshirt hanging loosely over your shoulders, and his expression softened even more. with a gentle shake of his head, he stepped closer, his hands already moving to adjust it. “you should wear this properly,” he murmured, his tone filled with that familiar mix of fondness and care. “don't want you catching a cold, do we?”

he carefully slipped the sleeves over your arms, his touch gentle but firm as he pulled it snug around you. he took an extra moment to make sure it fit comfortably, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulders. “there,” he said with a satisfied nod, his smile growing as he looked at you. “better, right?”

the gesture was small but filled with the kind of quiet affection that spoke louder than words, leaving no doubt in your mind that, even in the simplest actions, geto's care for you ran deep. as geto tugged the sleeves of the sweatshirt into place and adjusted it around you, gojo watched the exchange quietly, his gaze flicking between you both.

he couldn't help but notice the tenderness in geto’s touch, the way he took the time to ensure the hoodie fit perfectly around you. the gesture was subtle, a silent expression of care and connection.

he could see the effect it had on you, the way you subtly relaxed under geto’s touch, a small smile tugging at your lips. gojo couldn’t help but feel a pang of something he couldn’t quite identify.

as you turned to face the descent, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, the thought of trekking down the hill already wearing you out. “ugh, i can’t believe we have to walk all the way down,” you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands in mock despair.

gojo chuckled softly at your reaction, catching up beside you. “come on, it’s not that bad,” he teased, but the glimmer in his eyes suggested he found your frustration endearing.

geto, ever the considerate one, stepped closer and gently squeezed your shoulder. “if you’re really that tired, we can take it slow,” he offered, his voice warm and patient. “or, you know, we could always carry you,” he added with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you just a bit.

your exaggerated sigh and whine about the walk were met with gojo’s amused chuckle, his eyes sparkling with playful understanding.

“you’re so dramatic,” he teased, his tone light, “as if a little walk is too much for you.”

geto’s gentle offer to take it slow or carry you was made with a sincere concern for your tiredness, and he tacked on the playful comment, clearly enjoying himself. his smirk hinted at his mischievousness, but you knew he was only half-joking.

you turned to them with a dramatic huff, hands on your hips as you eyed them both expectantly. “alright, so which one of you is going to be a gentleman and carry me down?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, demanding.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, both of them trying and failing to conceal the grins that were pulling at the corners of their lips. they knew you were being playful, putting on a dramatic display to get your way, and they both knew they’d willingly play along.

gojo stepped closer, putting on an air of mock-exasperation. “oh, you and your demands,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with playful fondness. “don’t you know princesses should be carried on their prince’s strong arms?”

geto chuckled at gojo’s playfully exaggerated response, watching the two of you banter. he couldn’t help but join in, his eyes glittering with mirth. “that’s true,” he agreed, his grin widening. “princesses shouldn’t have to walk on such lovely little legs when they have princes to carry them.”

he took a step closer, his own eagerness to play along evident, his voice laced with a hint of anticipation. “so i guess that means neither of us can resist the call of chivalry, huh?” you straightened up, placing a hand on your hip and lifting your chin like a royal decree was about to be made. “alright, peasant,” you declared, putting on your best princess voice from centuries past, “carry me on your back, and make haste!”

with a dramatic flourish, you patted geto's back as if commanding him into service, a playful glint in your eyes as you stifled a laugh. gojo and geto both burst into quiet laughter at your haughty princess command, clearly amused by your overdramatic attempt at regal authority.

geto, playing along with theatrical flair, quickly dipped into a low, exaggerated bow, his hand over his heart. “as you wish, my delightful little princess,” he responded, his tone dripping with mock subservience. without warning, he quickly stepped in front of you, grabbing your legs and effortlessly hoisting you up onto his back, holding you securely with strong, steady hands.

as the three of you began your descent down the hill, the cool night air was refreshing against your skin. the path was well-trodden and easy to navigate, flanked by the soft, undulating grass of the field below. the grass field stretched out like a sea of green, dotted occasionally with wildflowers that added splashes of color to the landscape.

the distant city lights twinkled like stars on the horizon, creating a warm, ambient glow that contrasted with the dark, expansive sky above. the serene, peaceful atmosphere was broken only by the soft rustling of the grass and the occasional chirp of nocturnal insects.

as you made your way down, the gentle slope of the hill provided a smooth, relaxed descent. the night was clear, with the moon casting a soft, silvery light over the surroundings, making the walk both picturesque and tranquil. the cool breeze carried with it a sense of calm, adding to the overall peacefulness of the moment.

the atmosphere around the three of you was a picture-perfect moment of tranquility as you made your way down the hill, the landscape bathed in the silvery light of the moon.

gojo strode along beside you and geto, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, his gaze occasionally drifting from the landscape to you, seated comfortably on geto’s back. his eyes were soft, his lips curled into a subtle smile. geto, meanwhile, was enjoying the feeling of you on his back, your warmth and weight a comfortable presence as he navigated the downward slope.

as you reached the bottom of the hill, you gave geto a playful squeeze, your voice light but with a hint of genuine reluctance. “you know, now that i’m all comfy on your back, i’m not so sure i want to walk to the dorm anymore,” you said with a teasing tone.

as you squeezed geto playfully, your words filled with both lightheartedness and genuine reluctance, he let out a low laugh, his back rumbling faintly beneath you. he kept his grip on your legs steady, his hands warm against your skin.

“oh, so you’re going to be a spoiled princess and demand to be carried the rest of the way?” he teased, his voice filled with playfulness and amusement, “it’s not that far, princess. you could at least walk the last bit.”

you shook your head with a playful smile, resting your cheek comfortably against geto's back. “nope,” you murmured softly, your voice muffled but clear. "i’m perfectly comfy here. i think i’ll just enjoy the ride until we get to the dorm."

geto chuckled at your stubborn refusal, continuing to carry you despite the lighthearted bickering. you were warm and cozy, pressed against his back, and he couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm to the current situation.

“oh, so you’re just going to hog my back the whole way,” he teased, a note of playfulness in his tone. “and what if i get tired of hauling your spoiled princess butt the rest of the way?” you chuckled softly, snuggling closer against his back. “oh, you won’t get tired,” you teased back. “with all those muscles of yours, it’d be pretty shameful if you couldn't carry a little weight. i’m just making sure you get to show off those muscles of yours.”

a small grin tugged at the corner of geto's lips at your teasing. he chuckled as he felt you snuggle closer against his back, your words stirring a competitive spark in him.

“oh, so that’s what you’re doing,” he responded, his tone dripping with mock-indignation. “what a spoiled little princess.” he adjusted his grip on your legs, hoisting you up slightly to ensure a more secure hold.

as the three of you continued walking, the light banter between you and geto carried on. he chuckled at your response, his heart feeling a slight flutter at your casual affection.

gojo, walking beside you both, listened to the soft back-and-forth banter. he could see the playfulness and affection between you and geto, and despite the mild sting of something unfamiliar in his chest, he couldn’t help being glad to see geto’s guard drop so easily and naturally around you.

he chuckled under his breath, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “you’re both incorrigible,” he teased, shaking his head. “suguru's going to end up with a sore back by the time we get to the dorm.” you raised your eyebrows playfully at gojo, giving him a smirk. “well, i didn’t see you volunteering to carry me,” you replied, your tone light, “so, you don’t really get a say in this. suguru’s the one who’s earning all the glory right now.”

as the banter continued, gojo’s eyes flickered to geto, his expression tinged with affectionate mockery. he knew geto was enjoying every second of this, playing the role of your personal chariot without complaint.

he felt another pang in his chest as he watched you cling to geto, a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite name swirling in his gut. he tried to ignore it, focusing instead on keeping the lighthearted banter going.

the three of you walked through the empty streets, the world wrapped in the stillness of three in the morning. the city’s usual hum was replaced by the soft glow of streetlights, casting gentle shadows that danced around your feet. laughter drifted between you, light and unburdened, as if the night itself had been holding its breath just to witness this moment of pure, unguarded joy.

you rested comfortably on geto’s back, your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. his steps were steady, each one a silent promise of support, and you could feel the warmth of his quiet laughter vibrate through your own chest. beside you, gojo walked with a carefree ease, his presence as bright and effervescent as the stars that dotted the night sky above. every now and then, he’d throw a playful nudge at geto or toss a teasing remark your way, drawing out your sleepy giggles that lingered in the cool night air.

the moon watched over you, a silent guardian of your little trio, its silvery light bathing the world in a soft, dreamlike glow. the cool breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of grass and the faint promise of morning, yet the three of you lingered in this serene slice of time, as if the dawn could wait just a little longer.

beneath your light-hearted banter, there was an unspoken understanding between gojo and geto—a quiet vow that settled in their hearts as they looked at you nestled so comfortably on geto’s back. they saw the softness in your eyes, the vulnerability you often tried to hide behind sarcasm and dramatics, and they knew. they knew that more than anything, you deserved the kind of love that was steady, gentle, and unwavering. a love that would cradle your heart through every midnight adventure, every shared laugh, and every silent moment where words were unnecessary.

you didn’t notice the fleeting exchange of glances between them, the silent promise etched in their eyes. but as you finally approached your dorm, the walls of your tiredness gave way to a sense of peace. you were surrounded by a warmth that went beyond the physical, a warmth that felt like home in the company of the two who had somehow become your everything.

and as they watched you start to drift off, your head resting lightly against geto’s shoulder, they made a vow—to be the ones who’d always carry you when you were too tired to walk, to share in your laughter and chase away your fears, and to love you in the way you deserved: gently, endlessly, and with all the quiet strength they could muster. it was a promise woven into the fabric of the night, delicate and unbreakable, as eternal as the stars above.

[orionremastered]

I’m actually so obsessed with the way you write the boys like🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

why thank you anon this made me smile

and because im nice (school hasn't started yet)

Masterlist

911 Texting the Batboys

Dick Grayson

Exactly one minute after you send him the text, the living room window shatters into a million pieces across the floor. Nightwing calls your name, voice raw with concern, before surveying the state of your apartment.

"Oh," you say quietly by the kitchen, staring at the broken pieces of glass across the floor and then at your boyfriend who stares at you, chest heaving as he looks at you, confused.

"You're not hurt?"

"Well— I— the pan caught fire. I put it out though. I'm not burnt, I promise."

He looks at you doubtfully, storming over before pulling you into a tight embrace. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Don't be. It's okay. Don't be scared to text me if you're in any trouble. Promise you'll let me know if you're in danger?"

"I promise."

"Good," he mutters, though more as a reassurance for himself, resting his head on yours and breathing deeply.

"You can let me go now," you point out gently.

"Two more minutes."

Jason Todd

When your boyfriend takes longer to show up than expected, you start to get confused. And cold— it's the middle of winter and your hoodie was stolen while you were out with your friends.

And that wouldn't be a problem if you're car wasn't starting either.

The familiar roar of a motorcycle engine catches your attention, dark shape speeding down the street towards you. It skids to a stop, the tires screeching in order to slow.

"Hey," you say with a wave and a smile. "Car broke down and—"

Red Hood rushes off his motorbike, carefully grabbing you to look you over in the empty street. When he finds nothing, he sighs. "Thought you'd been kidnapped. Couldn't find you at your apartment."

Without waiting for your reply, he shrugs his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around yours, helping you put your arms into the sleeves despite you protesting that you can do it yourself.

"Let's get you home," he says gruffly, aching to hold you in his embrace when no one can see. "I'll call in a favour to get your car fixed."

Tim Drake

You don't think you'd ever been more embarrassed in your life when you realised you forgot your phone, which has your card in the case, at home.

Tim rushes into the store, having tracked your location immediately and driving well over the speed limit, still in his pristine CEO outfit.

"What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" his eyes dart around the store, taking everyone's face and putting it to memory.

"No... I forgot my phone and card. And I have a full cart of groceries. Tim, I can't put this all back, that's weird."

"Why didn't you ask me to pay before?"

"I— hmm. I'll do that next time."

You lead him to the counter were the high school aged cashier gapes at the richest man in Gotham who pays for the food without even glancing at the price.

Damian Wayne

When you texted 911 to your boyfriend, you certainly weren't expecting this. Somehow, in the five minutes of the text being sent, he managed to gather ten League of Assassins members that now stand in your suddenly very cramped apartment, sharp katanas at their side.

"Are you alright?" Damian himself has two katanas, glinting in the terrible lights. "What's wrong?"

It seems so stupid now with ten assassins behind him. Maybe you shouldn't have texted after all. "Look, it's really—"

"I don't care how little it is," he states, "You texted me for a reason."

"I... I thought I could hear someone talking and moving in the walls."

All eleven of them tense, exchanging glances. Damian gives them one sharp nod and the assassins begin locating any hollow spaces in the walls, tapping their knuckles and listening closely to the sounds.

"وجدت ذلك," one says after a few seconds.

"Don't worry about it habibi, we'll tear the building apart and find them," Damian assures you, pulling you into his arms.

[bunnys-kisses]

hello, could i get nanaimo bars with a martini and glass of water on the side with Max Verstappen? also love your little bakery it’s such a cute idea and love your work too!

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? check out the menu! there are tons of prompts for you to choose from to customize your order! and thank you for this lovely person for submitting an order!! i have still been under the weather, but i'm glad that i can finally get back into the groove of writing!

nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + martini (mafia au) + glass of water (aftercare) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, aftercare, librarian!reader, lingerie, gentle sex, size difference/kink, missionary, max is in love, mafia boss!max

you remembered the first time you felt max's gaze on you. most would've froze at the feeling, like getting ice in the back. but, instead you turned around from the shelf you were in front of and asked, "do you need help looking for something?"

it had been the first time in his adult life that max actually felt a little intimidated. he could easily dispose of you, you had recently moved to the netherlands and had no real social circle. but, you leveled your gaze at him. it was so kind, that it left him a little scared. people were rarely kind to a man like max.

if he had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, you would've seen the kind of man he was. instead he cleared his throat against his fist and said, "i was wondering if there was a pay phone, my car has broken down and i was always told that libraries were good at helping people." he smiled at you.

you looked at him briefly and said, "alright then sir, we don't have any pay phones. but we have a phone at the front desk you can use. just let me finish up here and i'll be happy to help you."

he then followed you akwardly as you took the elevator with the empty book cart in tow. he even offered to push it for you as you led him to the front desk. you didn't even notice the small whispers and lingering gazes on the both of you, instead you got the phone and held it out to him to dial.

max knew from that moment on that you were going to be a part of his life. in any capacity he could have you, at an arms length or bone crushingly close. and over time, the more you saw of him. you thought the closer the better.

now even after three years together, the lion of holland was still in your space. when he could, he'd visit you at the library branch you worked at. he'd linger around you until it was time for your break. then you two would have lunch together in the small room in the back, amongst the stacks of returned books.

by year three, you knew who max was. he didn't try to hide it from you, he was very honest about it all. what he had done, but you in return simply asked, "if we ever broke up, would you kill me for leaving?"

and max shook his head quickly and said, "no. i could never, even if you were the one to stab me in the back. i could never harm you." and you accepted him. as long as you could still work at the library, you'd love him with all your heart.

even though your job was less than dangerous, but max worried about you being so available to the public. you knew that max kept tabs on you from time to time at work, you had become familiar with the men of max's circle. and sometimes they'd sit at the library. you simply just continued your work.

but on fridays you got to go home early, so you quickly grabbed your belongings and headed into the car. you threw yourself in the passenger side and pulled him in for a soft kiss. he took you by the face and made a soft noise into the kiss.

"someone missed me." he remarked with a chuckle as he placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a good squeeze.

"i was looking forward for today all day. it came in yesterday, and it felt like my shift went even slower than usual!" you sighed dramatically before you giggled at the feeling of your lover's lips on your neck.

"i know, i know. this gift you bought and didn't tell me what it was. you know i don't like secrets. or surprises." he gripped at your thigh for a moment.

you held his strong jaw in your hands, and beamed at him, "it's not easy to keep secrets from you, max. i usually don't keep them, but i wanted this to be special for you. since you're leaving for england in a few days."

"i know, my treasure." he sighed, "but i promise to bring you back something. as a thank you for waiting for me to come home." he leaned in once more to kiss you softly on the lips.

dinner left you feeling anxious, once you were finished you left your boyfriend in the living room while you scurried off to the bedroom to get changed. you felt your pulse quicken as you pulled out the large black box from under the bed.

you got dressed quickly. it wasn't anything too special, it was a white mesh bra and panties, with embroidered details on it. what made it stand out to was not that the embroidery was of flowers or something sweet, but rather lions. something strong and powerful, and your lover was known as the lion of the netherlands, so it was only fitting.

the stockings you wore were a similar colour and before you knew it, you had opened the door to your bedroom and called out, "max, you can come in now!" before you shut the door and almost tripped over yourself getting to the bed. you sat down and tried to pull off a sexy pose, but ended up looking silly.

so you sat there on the edge with your feet dangling just above the floor, you kept your shoulders back to highlight your breasts which were barely covered by the embroidered designs. it was either this or a collar with max's name on it.

the door opened and max stilled in the doorway at the sight of you. his heart leapt as he admired your beauty. the air got caught in his throat and he coughed a little bit. he then said, "you're beautiful."

and you got flustered at his simple words. usually you felt a little insecure, the shape of your face, the size of your eyebrows, the softness of your stomach. you were a librarian, not a model. but max looked at you like you belonged on the cover of vogue.

he approached closer, he started to undo his button up. his chest was so exposed, lined with tattoos that were symbols of his past. he swallowed as he dropped the expensive shirt onto the floor. he worked his belt off and soon he was in nothing but briefs as he got into bed with you. those strong arms wrapped around you with his nose in your hair.

"this was your little surprise, schat." he said in a low tone, his large hands roamed your body, "this was what you had bought for me. thank you, thank you, thank you." he kissed at the side of your neck and you moaned a little bit. you felt the heat in your gut.

"i wanted to make it special for you." you said as you looked into his blue eyes. you beamed at him with your hand on his bare chest, "see they have little lions on them!"

he chuckled and leaned in for a sweet kiss, "it's perfect, my love." he could feel the thump of his cold heart as he smothered you in another kiss. his fingers found the tiny waistband of the underwear and pulled them down.

"i love you, max. all of you, every last scar and tattoo, every last inch of you. i'm lucky to love you." you giggled when he grazed a calloused thumb across your clit. you moaned a little bit and leaned into his touch.

your lips touched once more and his hands found the clasp of the bra. he groaned against the kiss and his erection throbbed against his briefs. he wanted you, this little surprise was beautiful.

the smartest woman he knew also happened to be the more beautiful. he could recall many times you'd bring him a cheesy romance novel and read it to him while he basked in your warmth.

"i love you." he said as he got you onto your back fully. his hands lightly palmed your breasts before he got up on his knees and between your legs.

he eyed your curves, bare in front of him. he palmed himself through his briefs before he got them off with a little help from you. both pairs of hands on his torso and soon he was nude. back between your legs, his hands roamed his thighs for a moment as he got your legs around his waist.

"you're beautiful." he said, "so beautiful." he leaned over you and kissed you on the lips as he slipped his cock into you. every time he had sex with you, or rather made love to you, it felt like a dream.

you blushed a little and wanted to cover your face, you squirmed a little bit at the sweet words that came from your lover's mouth.

"who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." he coaxed out of you as he thrusted against you.

you said meekly, "i'm your pretty girl."

he chuckled and planted both hands on either side of you for a good angle to thrust his hips against you. he felt the thrill of pleasure in his head as he moved against you. oh, you looked divine. he said softly as he moved his hips against you, "je bent zo mooi, ik wil alleen jou."

you blushed a little bit, "really, no one else."

he shook his head before he leaned in for another kiss, "no one. no one else ever. since the moment i saw you at the library, i knew that i had to be with you."

the praise left a curl in your gut as the two of you moved together. the kisses were deep and you felt the warmth of your lover around you. you panted between the kisses, your heart leapt at the feeling of him so close to you.

"i could never hurt you." he said, "i'd rather skin myself alive then you be without. you are my world, the thing that keeps me human. that i still have a heart."

you replied softly, "max, you've always been human." you pulled him in for a soft kiss as you wrapped your legs around him more. you two moved against one another, you giggled between moans.

"you are my beating heart, my treasure.' he said softly as he continued to move against him. the pleasure was pin pricks across his skin as he thrusted up into you.

you moaned against him, feeling the tug in your chest from his kind words. you knew that max was a dedicated man, when he set his sights on something he'd see it through to the end. that didn't stop with just work, he wanted to make sure that he gave you the perfect life.

and you didn't ask for much, you enjoyed your job and all you needed was his love and support through anything you wished to do. as you kiss once more, you felt his warmth against you.

the two of you moved against one another, you then kissed passionately. his kisses lingered on your skin, he gripped onto the bed under your back and he groaned a little at the sensation through his body.

"please."

"mine."

"forever, my dear. i'll keep you in my heart forever."

his words were honey in your blood, you felt the thrill of him in your body as you clutched onto him.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

you clutched onto your lover's shoulders. your strong, handsome lover. one of the scariest men in the country, if not the continent. he could kill anyone if he so desired, but with you, he was so loving and sweet.

he was your man, and despite all the fear he could instill. he loved you, and that love was felt in every thing he did for you. you kissed him deeply once more as you climaxed. you moaned into the kiss and he continued to thrust up into you. a few more steady thrusts of his hips and he finished inside of you, in the process pulling you in for a deeper kiss.

he slowed his pace and said, "my beautiful girl. please, please let me love you forever."

you pressed a kiss on the small scar on his cheek, an act of sweetness as you replied, "of course, always. you and i are together till you get tired of me." you giggled.

he pulled out and laid down next to you. he draped a heavily tattooed arm across your middle and gazed at you with love in his eyes. his breathing started to even out. he wiped his forehead free of sweat with his other hand before he snuggled further into your side.

he peppered your face with kisses, asking you quietly if you were alright. if you needed anything. he was the king of after care, even when the sex was as gentle as it could be.

he worried for you, as you worried for him.

you looked at him and smiled. there was a sparkle in those blue eyes. he then closed them and stayed close to you. he sighed contently.

"thank you for the gift. i almost tore them off of you, but i want to see them on you again. if i'm the big scary lion, then you're my lioness." he linked his fingers with you then kissed the top of your hand, "now and forever more." <3

[cyberslvts]

PHONE | w. maximoff

summary: You call your wife and decided to show her just how much you miss her

warnings: 18+ MDNI phone sex, guided masterbation, fingering, only thing on my wishlist this year is nasty phone sex with wanda

word count: 3k

It had been about five days since your wife left for her business trip, and to say you missed her was an understatement.

The house held a heavy silence as you settled into bed for the night, pulling the comforters up to your waist, feeling a subtle emptiness creep up when you looked at the empty bed space next to you. Prompting restless tossing and turning until you ended up facing your nightstand, the soft glow of your digital clock highlighted a jumble of trinkets: a small bowl cradling Wanda's extensive collection of rings, and a few pairs of earrings, a forgotten mug of now-cold tea, a petite bottle of hand cream, and a book precariously hanging off the edge

Your eyes continued to run along the smooth wood until they landed on a framed photo of you and Wanda, Captured during last year's anniversary celebration, Wanda had taken you into the city your faces slightly pushed together, painted with toothy grins as you both bundled up in thick winter coats leaning into each other for warmth.

Your heart swelled as you looked at the photo. Wanda's bright grin and sparkling eyes, filled with so much love, only made the ache you felt for her at that moment worse. She truly was the best partner you could ever ask for, always so attentive and devoted to you, making you feel like the most important person in the world, and in her eyes you were.

She was so sweet to you, calling and texting you whenever she got the chance, in between meetings or as she was leaving the hotel. Always eager and enthusiastic just to hear your voice on the rare occasions your timings synced up. Given the distance, Wanda was behind by two hours, leaving your calls awkward to match up, always missing each other by a few minutes. When Wanda was just waking up you were stepping into the office, and when she was leaving work you were already asleep.

You supposed she was eating dinner right now, probably with her co-workers or indulging in takeout from the Italian place she had previously mentioned. You felt silly, missing her this much when she had only been gone for a few days.

As you continued to look at the photograph you felt something blossom inside you, shifting slightly, your foot began to run up and down the side of your leg as your thumb swiped over her face in the picture. It felt like it had been an eternity since she last touched you, which you knew wasn't true as she had made sure to give you an extra memorable morning before she left for her flight, fucking you into oblivion before giving your limp body a sweet kiss goodbye.

You returned the photograph to the nightstand and rolled over in the bed until you were pressed against Wanda's pillow, you shamelessly dug your nose into the fabric, the scent of her shampoo and perfume invaded your senses and made you feel like she was right there with you. Your body temperature increased and your clothes started to feel a little too tight around your body.

Before you could rile yourself up anymore, your phone lit up the room with a loud ring. You smiled when you saw Wanda's contact name appear on the screen,

“Hi honey” your tone comes out huskier than you expected, you hear the sound of a door shutting from the other side of the call,

“Hi sweetheart, I didn't wake you did I?” Wanda attentively asks, feeling an immediate warmth as your voice reaches across the distance.

“No, not at all” You answer, readjusting yourself so your back is propped up against your headboard “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah, we got out early today,” She tucks the phone between her neck and shoulders, and you can hear the sounds of ruffling clothes, as both her hands are occupied with unbuttoning her suit jacket.

You bite your lip, imagining Wanda coming home in her work clothes. her hair messy from the walk home, the collar of her white shirt undone, looking so sexily disheveled. You sat up straighter in your bed, not wanting to get too carried away.

As the minutes passed you fell into your usual routine, exchanging the details of your day, from the mundane to the extraordinary, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Wanda listened attentively, her genuine interest was evident in the thoughtful questions she posed and the occasional chuckle at your natural charm. In turn, you hung on every word as she recounted her workday. The familiar cadence of her voice brought comfort, making it feel as if she were right there in bed with you.

Eventually, she tossed her jacket over the back of her chair, flopping down onto the bed in exhaustion, letting out a breathy sigh that you didn't miss.

“You sound tired, are you sleeping okay?” you questioned, whilst massaging the divit of your palm against the top of your thighs, trying to dry the sweat that had formed.

“No,” she huffed out, rolling onto her back, and placing one hand over her stomach. “The bed is terrible, the sheets are so scratchy and the mattress is too hard, I'd much rather be back in our bed, with you.”

Her unfiltered honesty made you giggle and you smiled, knowing that Wanda had a tendency to not receive a good night's sleep if it wasn't spent wrapped up against your side.

“I wish you were here too, I miss you.”

"I miss you too," she replied honestly, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, picturing you doing the same. Your back is flat against the mattress, hair sprawled out along the pillows, your shirt slightly riding up your torso, exposing your skin. Her thoughts began to slip, and it was becoming harder to focus on the conversation. The sultry tone of your voice played in her mind, and she couldn't help but imagine the sensation of her fingertips tracing patterns on your skin.

“Yeah?” you purred, your voice smoothe against Wanda's ears. She didn't fail to recognize the familiar switch in your tone, and she felt a rush of excitement start to fill her.

“Yes baby, so much, I hate being away from you.” She rasped out, closing her eyes when she heard your breathing start to pick up. The atmosphere between you two shifted, becoming heavier and more intimate.

“What do you miss about me?” You pressed, wanting her to fall into the same lusted haze you were trapped in.

“Everything” She immediately responded, as if she had been waiting all week to answer this question. Wanda's fingers absentmindedly traced circles on the edge of the bedsheet as she continued, “I miss touching you, and feeling you against me, I can't stop thinking about it”

A quiet sigh escaped her lips, her imagination running wild with the vivid memories of you together.

“Tell me more” you bit your lip, pressing and rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. Your head felt fuzzy, and your arousal swelled, a throbbing pulse resonating from your core, working yourself up so much you felt as if you were going to explode, You weren't sure if it was because you haven't seen your wife in almost a week, the distance amplifying your neediness for her. Regardless, every word exchanged over the phone was igniting a spark in you that needed to be taken care of.

Wanda's voice dipped even lower, as she happily obliged to your request “I keep thinking about that morning before I left, how loud you were and how pretty you sounded”

“My strap couldn't even stay inside you, it kept slipping out because your pussy was so wet” she teased you, already knowing your cheeks were flushing a vibrant red in embarrassment. She ran a hand down her stomach, her skin felt ablaze, a heat coursing through her that made every inch of her body tingle. She slowly unbuttoned her dress shirt, the cloth splitting apart and falling down the opposite sides of her torso, until only a black bra remained covering her upper half. Her hand fell down her breasts, lightly squeezing them and letting out a moan right into your ear.

You sighed, listening to her husky voice, the vibrations from the phone tickling your jaw. You felt a familiar wetness start to pool and you sunk lower into the bed until you were flat against the sheets. Wanda hears you rustling around the bed and presses the phone harder into her ear.

“Fuck baby, I miss you so much” You let a moan escape your lips, your hands slipping under the blankets to begin stroking yourself over your underwear. “I've made myself cum twice since you left, just thinking about you”

A throaty moan escaped her lips involuntarily, immediately painting a vivid picture of you in her head. You, alone in your bed, your hand buried between your legs, moaning her name. The sound echoed in her ears, remembering nights when she made you sound just like that. Your voice, now a seductive whisper, only fueled her daydream, making her cheeks flush as she felt a wave of desire wash over her.

“God, you're really turning me on right now” You heard the metal clicks of Wanda fumbling with her belt, with an alarming speed, she shed the rest of her clothes throwing them across the room so they were out of her way. She pushes herself farther up the bed and slides under the covers, her hand immediately finding her wetness, where she starts rubbing gentle circles to her clit.

Your hand slides under your panties, running a finger through your pussy and spreading it all over your folds and clit. The whine that reverberates inside your bedroom encourages wanda to do the same. “What are you wearing right now?”

You don't even open your eyes, which were squeezed shut, already knowing exactly what you had on “Just my underwear. the red ones”

Her grip on the phone tightened and she let out a string of curses, she knew exactly what you were talking about. The pressure she has on her bud gets harder imagining you in her favorite pair of panties, how pretty and fuckable she knew you looked right now, and how she couldn't do anything about it.

You slowly push a finger into your slippery walls, and an immediate sense of disappointment washes over you. A frustrated whine escapes your lips as you miss the expertise of your wife's fingers, vivid memories playing in your mind of how Wanda's touch could make you scream and cum within minutes.

"I need you so bad, Wanda," you confess, the desperation evident in your voice. Tightening your hold on the phone, as if it were your only lifeline to her. "It doesn't feel as good when I do it.".

Wanda's heart beats faster, hearing your desperate little whines, trying to find any hint of pleasure to relieve the ache she wasn't there to take care of. Wanda promised her self as soon as she arrived home she would fuck you so good, long and hard, taking you in every position possible, just what you deserved for being her good, patient wife.

"I know, baby," she purrs, her words weaving a tapestry of lust. "Just close your eyes and imagine my touch, my fingers doing all the work." Wanda's explicit instructions and encouragement make you throb, and you start to squirm against the bed eagerly awaiting her next command.

"Go slow, baby," Wanda instructs, her voice a sultry whisper through the phone. "Add another finger and curl it, just like how I do it." You let out a low moan, attempting to replicate her movements. Though it's not quite the same, it's undeniably better than before. Sliding in another finger, you leave it there for a moment, feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around it.

Gently curling your fingers, flashes of Wanda flood your thoughts. Pushing them deeper, you can almost feel her presence, as if she's right there with you, guiding your every move. In your mind, Wanda is on top of you, deep inside your pussy, praising you as a good girl. The image is so clear you start to feel twirls of pleasure forming in your stomach.

“That's right, honey, just like that” Wanda's voice is shaky, listening to you wholeheartedly follow her commands.You were so obedient, her precious girl. “Now, arch your back”

You do exactly as she says, the tip of your head falls back against your pillow and your ass digs itself into the mattress. Your pleasure immediately deepens and you start to move your fingers faster,

Wanda mirrors her instructions, pumping two fingers in and out of herself, letting out deep groans right into the phone. As she listens to you on the other end, pleasure-laden sounds and breathy moans fill the air. She can hear your pussy making the dirtiest sounds, loudly squelching everytime you jut your fingers in. She wishes she were there to witness it in person. Frustration builds as she hears the most beautiful sounds escaping your lips, and the fact that she can't do a single thing about it heightens the tension.

"I can hear you, how wet you are," she moans out, beginning to lose herself in the pleasure. "Is that all for me?

“Yes, all for you,” you breathlessly respond, your hips bucking up to match the rhythm of your fingers, desperately chasing your high. “you're making me feel so good”

The once-pristinely ironed sheets are now a tangled, wrinkled mess as Wanda's whole body squirms and writhes against the bed. She uses her thumb to rub at her clit, her mouth falling open at the sensation. Her eyes lock shut, entirely focused on creating vivid mental images of you that bring her closer and closer to the edge.

She felt her pussy tighten around her fingers, thinking about all the times she had made you cum, your adorable face scrunching up into an expression exclusively reserved for her played vividly in her mind. The memory of your eyebrows sewing together, your thighs wrapping around her, and your desperate attempts to cling to any part of her body for comfort lingered in her thoughts. On those particularly heated nights, she would work you up to a point where deep red lines would be etched into the skin of her back. stinging and aching so deliciously the next day.

When she tells you to go faster, you feel your orgasm rapidly build and the room starts to feel hazy. Thick with heat and the sounds of your and wanda's moans. You pump your fingers faster, and you can see them glistening with your juices everytime they pull out, just to be greedily plunged back in.

"Fuck, say my name,” she commanded, her final plea as she felt her self getting so close, needing to hear you scream her name while you both came on your fingers

You meet her request immediately, "Louder," she insists, and you obediently start repeating her name over and over again, getting whiner everytime. Your head was emptied of all thoughts other than Wanda as your fingers repeatedly hit that spot inside you.

“Wanda, oh god wanda”

Your voice started getting higher and louder. Wanda could tell you were about to cum, she started fucking herself harder wanting to be right there with you when you fell apart. She felt the phone start to fall out of her grip and just before she was about to fall over the edge she switched on the speaker button and let the phone fall out of her hand and next to the side of her head.

“Is my messy girl gonna cum? just from my voice.”

You parted your lips to respond but your mouth fell open wider when your orgasm suddenly ripped through you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as her name spilled off your lips in sharp moans and gasps. Your hips bucked up and down trying to prolong the sensation for as long as possible

Hearing all of this, Wanda fell into her orgasm with a matching intensity. Her thighs shook around her hand and she tossed her head to the side. One hand gripped the pillow to her face, muffling the loud moan of your name. Trying her best to keep quiet since the hotel walls were known for being thin.

Your breathing slowed, feeling your orgasm begin to subside, your back fell limp against the bed listening to wanda do the same.

“Well, that was certainly different” Wandas voice returned, although much deeper and huskier as she struggled to catch her breath, You could practically hear her smile as she relaxed into her post orgasmic bliss

“In a good or bad way” you questioned, sitting up on one elbow and throwing your frazzled hair over your shoulder.

“A good way, a very good way,” she assured, letting out a satisfied sigh. Her eyes grew heavy, and you could hear the rustling of the bed as she began pulling the comforters up past her shoulders, tucking herself in. She let out murmurs, whispering about how much she loved you and that she would be home soon.

You smiled knowing how tired she gets after sex, part of you dimming with the realization that you weren't there to hold her to sleep. Yet, you reassured yourself—she would be back home with you by the end of the week, just as she promised

Opting to stay on the call tonight, you recharged your phone and placed it on top of your pillow, close enough to hear Wanda's tired breathing, a comforting sound that soothed you to sleep. Just before you fell asleep, her voice broke the silence.

“Let's Facetime instead tomorrow”

[reidmania]

you are in love | spencer reid

part one, loml

summary; a year after jj’s wedding, you run into spencer at at museum only this time the difference between now and your relationship isn’t so much of a bad thing.

warnings; angst and fluff, new beginnings, fresh start, exes to lovers, hopeful/ happy ending, they are in love, they are my babies i love them, not edited bc my work is never edited, fem reader, no use of y/n cus EWWWW

2.2k words

an; since there was so many you are in love references in part one i thought it was fitting. thank u.

‘One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved too fast you play it back. Buttons on a coat, light-hearted joke, no proof, not much but you saw enough. Small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight. The light reflects, the chain on your neck. He says, "Look up" and your shoulders brush. no proof, one touch, but you felt enough’

Beige rough detailing ran over walls, warm air flooded the space as couples and friends — even families walked around. The shadows of each item showcased cascading down onto the floor.

The room was lit dimly by warm yellow lights that strayed from overly intricate chandeliers. The only sound was quiet mumbles and soft conversation from the people surrounding, gentle voices as if anything too loud may break one of the valuables.

Your eyes danced over a painting that hung on the wall, your eyes skimming over minor details as the a-ray of warm and cool toned blues and purples covered the canvas. What had given you the idea to come to the museum alone? You weren’t sure.

Maybe the need for distraction, or perhaps a break from the real world that seemed all too busy lately. Time seemed slower between the beautifully structured walls. Everything seemed delicate, and softer than the harsh of the world outside this building.

You walked around for a while before finding your way into a room that others crowded into. It was dark, apart from a few blue lights that came from under a table in the middle of the room. You weren’t sure what you were looking at — you also weren’t sure you cared when your eyes lifted and your mind grew empty of any thought.

There was a moment where your eyes just danced over the side of his face, the curve of his nose and lining of his jaw. Overgrown hair dragging down his forehead. Then his head turned and his eyes met yours.

Of course you would see Spencer. Of course the one time you decide to go out by yourself, to a place so beautiful. You would see him.

He fit right in, suit jacket over his shoulders, tie buried under a sweater vest. He was as beautiful as the architecture around you, looking as delicate as the items being showcased. You were sure outside of this room his dark suit and hair would contrast the beige elegance of the walls.

His eyes filled with something, a secret language that lingered between the two of you in the air. Almost a greeting but not quite. A soft smile lined his lips. The side of his face glowing different hues of blue as he stood in line with the table.

A year. It had been just over a year since JJ’s wedding. A year since you saw Spencer last. A year since a promise was made and broken between the two of you.

Three years since your world shifted and never quite found its balance again.

You smiled at him, before your gaze dropped down to the table but any idea you had of focusing on the sight before you disappeared as your mind filled with him.

Everyone around you and their gentle whispers of appreciation fell into silence for you. Everything besides him becoming a blur as you separated yourself from the reality of the world around you and back into the made up fairy tail in your head.

You spent a lot of time trying to grasp the fact that you had seen him, you had been given an opening a year ago, and you had failed to take it for what reason? You couldn’t name one now even though you were sure at the time you had one.

The room seemed warmer with his presence in it. Not uncomfortably warmer, not too warm but sort of like a hug in the dark of the night or the feeling of cold hands against a fresh cup of coffee.

When the crowd began to dwindle away from the room towards the exit, you followed. That until you heard the gruff of the familiar voice behind you.

“Hey stranger.” It seemed ironic really. His choice of words.

You turned on your heels, eyes meeting his. “Hi Spencer.” You breathed out. People walked around the two of you. Maybe you got a few looks but none that gained either of your attention.

He paused slightly — one thing you weren’t expecting was awkwardness. You and Spencer had never been awkward, a year ago you fell back into rhythm after a few shared words. Now it seemed different, the air seemed thicker.

“You uh.. You never called.” He said, his voice hesitant to bring it up. You almost wished he didn’t. You partly enjoyed the ignorance you both had chose to live in at the wedding, that everything was okay, that everything was normal and that maybe it would work.

You shifted slightly on your feet, hands coming to fidget with the sleeves of your knitted sweater, that blended in with the neutral tones around you. You thought back to the night of the wedding, his whispered repetition.

‘Don’t be a stranger’ He had said the same thing when the two of you broke up. You had assumed he was aware of that. You assumed he understood what his words indicated based off your history.

They were less of a, ‘hey! call me!’ and more of a, ‘i’m sorry about what happened and the fact things are different’ They were three years ago, and they were a year ago.

“I didn’t know you were serious.” You admitted. Your mind began to dwell on every word said since. His greeting. Was that as meaningful as his whispered words.

Stranger. He greeted you as a stranger and although you were aware of the common saying and reasoning behind it for everyone else. Now, knowing he was serious about his whole ‘don’t be a stranger’ thing, you wondered if they held a heavier implication of what had happened between you two — or what hadn’t.

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he waited a moment before he spoke. He cleared his throat, “I was..” He mumbled, his hands rubbing against the sides of his suit jacket for a moment before dangling by his sides.

You weren’t sure what to say. “I didn’t know.” You settled on. He let out a huff, a hum of acknowledgment before he looked around. The room was now void of others. Leaving you and him alone in the blue lit room.

“You know um- Blue lights actually help elevate brain function and boots alertness— Which um, I could feel someone looking at me. I wasn’t expecting to be you but I’m glad at it was.” He mumbled out and your heart warmed at the familiarity of his beautiful brain.

Your cheeks too warmed, when he brought up the fact he had noticed your eyes on him. You wondered if it was really because of the alertness that the lighting produced or more the fact that your eyes were filled with such heavy emotion the strength of your gaze was unavoidable. You didn’t know if the human brain was that aware, and while you were sure Spencer would, you decided against answering.

“You’re alone.” You stated, brain fogged.

He let out a slight chuckle as he nodded, eyes running down the features of your face. “So are you.” He stated in the same sort of tone. Wondering what your point was, and you weren’t sure you had one.

“I was observing.” You mumbled out, a defensive for your random statement. His lips parted as they tugged into a smile.

He tilted his head slightly, “You’re beautiful.” He said. Your eyes widened momentarily. He snorted at your reaction as your lips parted in lack of a response. What were you suppose to say when your heart felt like it was being squeezed of all life.

There was new something in the air around you. Something similar in the look in his eye and the gentleness of his smile, the same something fluttering around in your stomach.

“I thought we were observing.” He mumbled out, shrugging simply.

You huffed at his quick wit and the light hearted playfulness. It made the air feel less heavy of history. A smile on your lips as you shook your head. You looked behind you, over your shoulder at the door before your gaze returned to Spencer.

“Do uh.. Would you want to walk around with me? Would that be weird?” You asked, almost half terrified of what his response might be. All too aware of the fact he could laugh in your face and turn away — although you knew deep down he wouldn’t.

He smiled, “Id like that.” He mumbled softly. His eyes staying on yours. The two of you stayed in the same position for a moment, just looking at one another. Your eyes having a conversation of their own, before you let out a soft laugh and dropped your head, turning to walk away, he followed.

You found yourselves walking beside one another. No words shared really. There was no pressure to talk about what had happened a year ago, or two years before that. There was no underlying tension or bitterness.

You stopped in front of a large painting that took up the space on a plain wall. Having the entirety of the space to itself. The canvas was covered by greens and cool toned browns, causing the pink of the flower to stand out.

“Do you know what flowers they are?” Spencer asked, his eyes never leaving the painting as he stood beside you. Your eyes ran along the details of the artwork. Taking in every inch of it.

You nodded, “Lotus’. It’s a lotus pond.” You mumbled out as you recognised the flower. He hummed in acknowledgment and recognition. A sort of validation you didn’t know you craved until you received it.

“Lotus flowers normally represent new beginnings. Lotus ponds symbolise beauty and growth. A lot of people believe that they are very spiritual and can represent rebirth and resurrection.” He mumbled out, you were silent for a moment as you listened to him talk.

Your eyes flickered to his for a moment, his gaze shifted to you. There was a shared glance, a weight lifted. Then you both as if in unison turned back to the painting. Admiring it in silence, appreciating one another’s presence without the distribution of conversation.

There was a lot to be said but none of it seemed important when his shoulder brushed against yours momentarily. You didn’t pull your gaze away from the painting, neither did he. The silence spoke a million words, the gentle touch, a million more.

There was an announcement over the speakers of the museum causing a damp in the quiet appreciation from the people around you. It was an alert that in half an hour they would be closing in half an hour. You hadn’t realise it had gotten that late.

Spencer turned to face you. You saw it in your peripheral vision but you kept your gaze on the painting wordlessly. His eyes lingered on the side of your face before he spoke, breaking the warm silence that wrapped around the two of you like a bubble away from the outside world.

“Im glad you’re a stranger.” He started, which caused your eyebrows to furrow as you turned your head towards him, a flicker of offensive covering your features for a moment before he laughed and shook his head.

“No- I didn’t- Not like that. Just- We were so young and everything was new and exciting and I felt so much- I feel so much for you. That never changed even if we have. I want to know who you are now. I want to learn everything new about you.” He said. His voice was quiet as if he was trying to keep that warm bubble around the two of you.

Any offence you felt disappeared within seconds. Your heart tightened in your chest at his sweet words. The recognition that things were indeed different, that you both had changed and that they wouldn’t be the same as they were all those years ago.

And that it didn’t have to be a bad thing.

“I’d like that.” You exhaled out. He smiled, and so did you.

He looked around for a moment, breaking the eye contact. The secret language shared between glances you learnt all those years ago, before he turned his gaze back to you. An almost playful look in his eyes.

“Hi. Im Spencer Reid. I’d shake your hand but a lot of germs are spread through hand shaking — not that i think you have germs, well everyone has germs— I um.. I think you’re really pretty and I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime”

Your eyes widened at his ramble. You recognised it. The same way he had approached you five years ago in a cafe. You were partly shocked he remembered it off by heart, he was more nervous back then.

You snorted, unable to take the situation seriously. A wide smile on your lips as you attempted to play along through half hidden laughter. “Hi Spencer.” You re-introduced yourself, “I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

He smiled, the same sort of smile on his lips that was on yours. His gaze held yours. Everything was different between now and then, the look in his eye then was full of anxiety and awkwardness, doing anything to avoid your gaze.

Now, his eyes stayed on yours and were full of nothing but pure admiration and love.

Maybe not everything was different.

[ellecdc]

Okay I’m sorry I’m spamming you! But what about a Sirius and reader one where he is hitting on her but she doesn’t realize it(ya know insecurity about no one else wanting her) so she just assumes he is trying to get close to her to get to her friend so she just kinda stops him and introduces him to her friend(not showing how she is disappointed but pretending to be happy) and leaves then her friend explains her habits to Siri and so he tries harder/not his úsale antics and it all works out 🫣💕

Ps feel free to ignore any and all that you don’t want do 💕

hi sweets! thanks for your prompts and for your patience with me getting this back to you! here's a quick little fluffy blurb.

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through older requests~

Sirius Black x fem!reader

You weren’t even sure how you ended up at this party; you didn’t really enjoy parties, you didn’t really know these people, and you didn’t really drink – though you were certainly trying.

But you were a good friend and Elle really didn’t ask much of you, so you relented to her promise that she’d stick by your side the whole night.

Which she technically was, except that her back was currently turned to you as she hit on the Ravenclaw sitting beside her.

You were very busy pretending the inside of your nearly empty cup was quite interesting when you felt the sofa dip beside you. Sitting beside you - in all his dark-hair-pulled-back-haphazardly, leather jacket, ripped jeans and tattooed glory - was the infamous Sirius Black. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these parties before.” He said with a smirk. “I’m Sirius.”

You breathed out a chuckle and tried to duck away from his gaze. “I know who you are, Sirius.” You murmured.

His smile only seemed to grow in your periphery as he tried to duck back into your line of sight. “And I know who you are, but usually it’s polite to introduce yourself to people at parties.”

You sighed and gave him your name, which he rewarded you with a beaming smile – sharp canines on full display.

“Are you having a good time?” He asked, leaning back casually with his arm behind you on the back of the sofa.

“Yeah.” You offered quickly and not at all convincingly, trying not to get caught staring at the tattoos poking out from the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, so you’re a liar.” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes and ignored the burning in your cheeks at being a) so painfully obvious and b) caught lying.

“I hope I didn’t offend you; I bet with my luck this was your party or something.”

“Who’d you come with?” He asked instead, sounding alarm bells inside your head.

“Oh, erm, my friend Elle.” You offered plainly. His eyebrows raised slightly as he nodded.

“Oh, I know Elle; we have Herbology together, I think."

You nodded and looked to your hands. "Yeah, she's in that class."

"Do you guys hang out a lot?” He asked, sounding genuinely interested.

You hummed in acknowledgement and took a sip from your nearly room temperature drink. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever talked to her before, mind you...” 

You decided to just cut this conversation short and get to the point, saving both you and Sirius from unnecessary pleasantries and small talk. 

You - not at all gently - shook Elle’s shoulder, interrupting her conversation with the Ravenclaw.

“Hey, you know Sirius, right?” You asked her as you stood, motioning to Sirius who was now sitting only one (now empty) seat away from her. Elle’s eyebrows furrowed but she looked over at Sirius and smiled politely. 

“Yeah, I think we have Herbology together.” She offered. 

“Perfect!” You said, feeling only slightly bitter. “I’ll give you guys some space then.” And you headed towards the drinks to refill your cup.

Sirius can honestly say that...that...had never happened to him before.

“I’m sorry...erm, what’s going on?” Elle asked him, looking between your retreating form and him.

Sirius smiled in apology and turned his gaze from you to your friend. “Uhm, I was sort of hoping you could tell me? I thought I was finally going to get a chance to make a move on your friend tonight.”

Suddenly, understanding seemed to paint Elle’s features and she let out a hearty laugh.

“That knob head.” She insulted you, though her tone was full of affection. 

Sirius laughed along, albeit awkwardly.

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” He admitted.

Elle shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “She does this. She doesn’t think anyone might possibly be interested in her, and you probably made the mistake of mentioning my name.”

Sirius felt his cheeks pink as he looked back over to the drink station where you were saying hello to Peter. 

“I just thought it would get the conversation going, you know? I love talking about my friends.” He explained. 

“You’ll have to be a little more direct with her.” Elle offered.

Sirius smirked (somewhat deviously if you asked Elle).  

“Consider it done.” He proclaimed, standing with a flourish before stalking off towards you at the drink table. 

“Now that was just cold, Y/N.” You heard Sirius bark as he entered your field of vision.

“I’m...sorry?”

“Sic’ing me on your friend back there. You know, if you didn’t want to talk to me, you could have just said so!” He lamented with an exhausted sigh.

“I-what? I did want to talk to you!”

Sirius laughed. “You could have fooled me!”

“I thought you wanted to talk to Elle!” You shouted back, slightly embarrassed to note that a few of Sirius’ friends and other party goers were turning their attention to you.

Sirius’ face softened slightly as he smiled at you. “I’m sure she’s very nice, but she wasn’t who I was trying to flirt with tonight.”

You felt your heart trying to escape through your throat and worked hard to swallow it back down. “She wasn’t?” You all but whispered.

“No. And, she told me to tell you that you are a knob head.”

A laugh was surprised out of you as you turned to make eye contact with Elle, who shot you a wink and an encouraging thumbs up. 

“You really weren’t trying to get me to introduce you to her?”

“No!”

“You were...trying to flirt with me?”

He rolled his eyes but kept his answer short. “Yes.” 

You laughed in both embarrassment and excitement at the idea that the school’s heartthrob was flirting with you.

“Well then, Sirius, I’m very sorry I left you to the dogs back there.”

Sirius laughed hard at that, making you feel like you were missing out on some inside joke. “That’s okay, dollface. I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hogsmeade, this weekend. As a date in case that wasn’t clear.” He said, leaning against the table resting one hand near yours as he stared into your eyes.

“With you?” 

His eyebrows furrowed before he realized you were fucking with him.

“Yes, with me. Merlin, you make a bloke work hard, eh?” He chuckled, daring to brush your fingers with his from their place on the table.

“Alright. Hogsmeade, this weekend, as a date, with you. Sounds fair enough.” You repeated.

“I’d sure hope so. It was absolute torture sitting with Elle over there.” He scoffed sarcastically.

“You wanker!” You heard Elle shout from across the room. 

[sugawhaaa]

ATEEZ X READER

Just want attention, fuck this tension

{{Part 1}}

Warnings::SMUT

Genre:: nipple play, teasing, that's about it for now

Pairing::ot8!ateez! X fem!reader

A/N:: Tumblr decided to enrage me and POST THIS EVEN WHEN I TOLD IT NOT TO. So now this is going to be split into two parts 💔 I am so mad rn

You knew what you were doing was quite terrible. This job was almost like a last resort that you managed to get through pretty privilege. You basically kissed your human decency away as soon as you agreed to the job. You were going to be a sex toy for the one and only ateez.

They're all grown men after all but they don't have time to meet women and actually hook up with them. Sure they can often go to clubs but they get tired really quickly from all the partying that comes along with it. They just needed someone they could casually have sex with whenever they wanted and somehow the company agreed to let them pick out a girl to ask. You were that lucky girl and today was your first day as…a whore.

Considering the circumstances you were given a key to access their house and a room of your own to live in. It wasn't much and of course you'd be allowed to leave quite frequently but when night rolled around you were completely and utterly theirs.

You hesitantly stuck the key into the door and pried it open to find the house empty and quiet. You called out softly into the empty room. “Hello?” You step into the entryway and shut the door behind yourself. You put the keys back in your bag and saw a little space where they put all their jackets, shoes, purses, and bags. You slipped off your shoes and set them in the pantry before hanging up your bag. Their house was fancy yet it still held this homey aura. It was calm and cozy but when you got to the kitchen you noticed a pile of dishes that were probably put off for days due to their busy schedules. You decided to put some calm morning music on as you did the dishes for them almost as if to say thank you for letting you into their private life.

Midway through doing the dishes you heard someone stirring away. You had to mentally prepare yourself to talk to them and try not to sound creepy for letting yourself into their house. A tired Hongjoong stepped into the kitchen, startled to see a woman in their house. “Good morning,” you smile with pink cheeks.

“Morning?” Hongjoong chuckled as he walked up to you. “You must be Y/N right?”

“Yes,” your eyes scan his body up and down. “No one answered the door so I thought I'd just…” your words trail off as the embarrassment sinks in.

“I don't blame you,” Hongjoong swished his hand, brushing off your embarrassment. “So, have you done this kind of job before?” He crosses his arms, raising a brow. He wanted to get to know the girl he'd be offering to his members, perhaps even going for a test drive.

“Well not necessarily, I'm not a…virgin but I haven't had many jobs that would include a skill list of these things,” you chuckle and finish rinsing the last dish. “The way the company described it, it didn't seem like I had to have any previous, serious, experience,” you explain as you start drying dishes. Hongjoong seems interested in your words, leaning against the wall and nodding. “It sounds like I'm mainly just to be used…for my body,” you explain, avoiding eye contact. Hongjoong was bare faced, with messy hair and still in his pajamas. This was enough to make any woman fold.

“I see why you would think that,” he starts before walking over to you. “But, I at least, don't think of you like that,” he smiles. “I want to spoil you, I want to care for you,” Hongjoong gently brushes his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “I want to give you all the attention you deserve,” he brings his hand from your shoulder to your chin, making you look up at him. He smiles softly as he analyzes your features. Then you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Ya done?” San stands with a mug of coffee and a purple housecoat draped around his body. His hair was also messy, spikey almost, and his bare face was going to make you do backflips. Hongjoong chuckles and turns to San.

“San, meet Y/N. She's the girl I was talking to you about the other day, our little dove,” he pats the back of your head as San walks over to you. It was clear San wasn't fully awake, not in the right headspace, as he analyzed you.

“She's pretty,” he smiles softly before walking off to make some breakfast. As the morning goes on the members all arise, most of them are in similar conditions as the first two. Two of them however wake up full of energy, Wooyoung and Yunho. Wooyoung is over the moon excited to have a girl in their home to hang out with, sexually or not he's excited. Seems like not only Hongjoong was excited to have a girl to watch over. Yunho was nervous at first but he quickly adjusted and got comfortable with you.

Wooyoung was the main one to show you around their humble abode. It wasn't massive but it was homey. On your little tour you finally met Mingi. He was in the washroom with the door half open, brushing his teeth without a shirt and sweatpants. That was something you were going to have to get used to when living with a bunch of 20 year old men. Mingi was unphased, giving you a little smile and wave. You could only blush and wave back. Wooyoung then dragged you down the hall telling you which room was who's and helping you settle into your own room.

Their house was kind of split in two. Furthest to the left you had a hallway with a bathroom and five rooms, one a massive storage room. Then there was the massive living room with beautiful windows. On the other half of the building it was much the same. Five bedrooms, one a guest room, one washroom, the kitchen and dining room. In between both sides was a gaming room or just a place to hang out. Their house wasn't the cleanest you've seen but it was very clean for a kpop group you must admit.

After your encounter with Mingi, Wooyoung took you to the living room with a TV and a very long couch. Wooyoung sat you down, gave you the remote, and asked if he could get you a snack or drink of sorts.

“Give the woman a minute to breathe,” San ruffled Wooyoung's hair, leaning over the back of the couch. You were startled by his sudden voice and turned to look at him.

“Yeah don't worry so much Wooyoung she'll get used to it all,” Jongho said, sitting next to you with a plate of breakfast.

“Dude, how many times do we have to say you shouldn't eat in the living room,” San sighs with a shake of his head. You watch back and forth as the members converse. The members were quite entertaining even when they were just talking like this. Surprisingly the day went on quite normally for them, or at least a normal vacation day for them.

After lunch you went back to the couch and opened your phone. You went to the notes app and started writing down some speculations about each member. Based on the conversation you had with Hongjoong he seems to be leaning toward the dominant type. He's definitely got a possessive side to him and maybe even controlling in some ways. He could potentially have a thing for “daddy” type prompts, but it's definitely not set in stone.

Seonghwa so far is a closed and locked book. You haven't talked much with him and he doesn't even really seem interested in you. Not a good sign, that's for sure considering your job is to make them want you basically.

Yunho was shy at first but quickly got used to you after some small chatter. He is pretty mysterious right now but something tells you he's gonna be an interesting card in bed. He definitely knows what he's doing.

Yeosang is also kind of a mystery. He doesn't talk much which doesn't give you many leads at all. The less a person talks to you, the less you get to grasp their personality and make some guesses on the intimate life. He seems pretty shy and timid which could leave the door open for being dominant with him. Or he could be the type of guy who's all cute and rainbows until they're pounding into you. Once again, he's a mystery.

San is pretty relaxed, a chill vibe flows from him. This could be brought into intimate hours as well. He's probably the type of guy who likes lazy sex or pure intimacy and love. Something deep downs telling you he likes spoiling his girl as well but there's no actual lead to that yet.

Mingi is a wildcard as well. He wasn't shy at all when you saw him half naked but that means nothing about him. You get the vibe from his energy that he's pretty rough in bed, doing all kinds of kinky things but deep down he's gotta have a submissive side. There's no way he can't.

Wooyoung is a gleaming ball of energy when it comes to you. Whether he's excited to fuck you up or be fucked by you is once again a mystery. The first time with him will probably go something like, you touch one part of his bare skin and he'll shatter beneath you.

Jongho seems to not really care much for you either, which is also bad. But you can't ignore the way he acts with you. He may treat you like a big sister most of the day but there were odd times where he'd look your body up and down in a hungry way. He's interesting for sure…

As you type out these notes you feel eyes peering over you and turn to see Mingi intently reading each word. Your face turns red and you shut off your phone. Mingi looks up at you with a frown.

“Hey I just started reading mine,” he pouts and you sigh in relief. How embarrassing would it be if he got to read his own.

“Good,” you retort back and he gasps, over acting way too much.

“Oh you wound me princess,” he puts a hand to his head and you sigh. Mingi chuckles before leaning closer to you again. “So you think Hongjoong has a daddy kink?” He tilts his head and you instantly freeze up.

“W-Well it's just an assumption, I don't know for sure yet. These are all things just to test out,” you explain and Mingi nods.

“Well I can say for sure that Yunho's is pretty damn accurate,” he smiles and looks at the TV. He takes the remote from the side tables and turns it on. “Yunho is a huge flirt when he's alone with someone he likes. From what I've heard and seen he seems to be kinda rough as well,” Mingi informs you as he scrolls through Kdramas.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You raise an eyebrow as you turn your phone on, writing down all of Mingis comments on Yunho.

“Why not?” Mingi shrugs and you hum. Yup that sounded like a good answer. You turn your phone off and shove it in your pocket. You stand up before turning to Mingi.

“Does it matter which washroom I use?” You chuckle and Mingi shakes his head. You rush to the washroom and try to compose yourself. These men were going to be the death of you. Constantly creeping up on you and blinding you with their good looks. You needed to get a grip, it was your job to be flirted with, used and essentially fucked. You needed to get yourself together. While you wash your hands you look over at their shower. Maybe it'd be a good idea to get a shower and clear your head. You nod to yourself and dry your hands.

When you exit the washroom you look down the hall to Hongjoongs room. You gently peer in with a little knock. Hongjoong looks up at you from his phone. He takes off one headphone before saying “hey Y/N, what's up?” He smiles and you chuckle softly.

“Hey uhm would it be alright if I got a shower?” You smile.

“Of course,” he says as he stands up off his bed, taking off his headphones and leaving them on the bed with his phone. “Here I'll help you get it ready,” he offers and you thank him kindly. He gets you a towel and hangs it up for you before telling you how the shower works. The shower head had three different modes but the temperature handle worked like any other. He shows you the shampoos and conditioners they have that you can borrow. They get a lot of samples of stuff from skincare and haircare places for you to use. He nods before closing the door. “Have fun,” he laughs and you laugh back.

“I'm sure I will,” you smile before undressing. You turn the shower on to test the temperature. Absolutely scorching, perfect. You use the sampler hair products and borrow some of Hongjoong body wash that he said you could use. When you got out of the shower you used the prepared towel and as you dried off your hair the scent of the ateez members filled your lungs. The towel smelt just like them and it made your heart skip a beat. It's a no-brainer that the towel would smell like them, or more so their laundry detergent, but it felt amazing. You felt like a part of their crew now. You dry off and wrap the towel around your body snugly

You turn the shower on to test the temperature. Absolutely scorching, perfect. You use the sampler hair products and borrow some of Hongjoongs body wash that he said you could use. When you got out of the shower you used the prepared towel and as you dried off your hair the scent of the ateez members filled your lungs. The towel smelt just like them and it made your heart skip a beat. It's a no -brainer that the towel would smell like them, or more so their laundry detergent, but it felt amazing. You really felt like a part of their crew now. You dry off and wrap the towel around your body snugly. You collect up your clothes and phone before walking out to your room. When you open the door simultaneously, one of the bedroom doors opens. Yeosang innocently looks at you, his eyes traveling down slightly.

Yeosang chuckles before running off to the kitchen. You brush it off and go to your room. You dry your hair, brush it, put it up and start unloading some more things from your bag. For today you didn't bring much but in time there would be much more in your room. As you unpack the scent of cooking meat fills your nose. It's not long after you hear a knock on your door and Seonghwa creeps the door open.

“Dinner is ready,” he smiles warmly. He was wearing a cozy sweater and his hair was half put up by a claw clip. Strands of his black hair remained in his eyes and face. You thank him and go out to the dining room. San from the kitchen asks you how much and what you'd like.

“We have bulgogi set out on the table but we also have some glass noodles and mandu back here because somebody couldn't choose just one thing to eat tonight,” San scowls at the younger two members. You chuckle and ask for a mix of everything. San comes out with two plates in hand. As he puts the plate in front of you, you can't help but notice his muscles in his tight black shirt. Your eyes linger over his pecs for a moment before he sits down next to you like a smile. You look up at his face with pink cheeks and he playfully raises his eyebrows before digging into his food.

On the other side of you was Wooyoung. You look over at him eating before shifting your gaze over to Seonghwa who was looking right back at you. His chin was tipped down and he looked up at you with hooded eyes. You blush and look away but unbeknownst to you he doesn't. Next to Seonghwa is Hongjoong, eating elegantly but quickly. On the other side of Seonghwa is Yunho, sophisticatedly eating his food as well. You pick up your chopsticks and look down at your food before hesitating.

“Do you not want this?” Wooyoung looks at you with worried eyes, gesturing to your plate.

“No, no I'll eat it, it's fine,” you smile and bring your chopsticks down to your glass noodles, mixing them around.

“Here try some of the mandu,” Wooyoung picks up some Mandu from your plate and holds his hand under it, in case anything spills or he drops it. “Open~” he smiles and you hesitantly do as he asks. You open your mouth and he guides the food into your mouth. Your eyes widen. The flavors dancing on your tongue. “Good right?” He smiles and takes a napkin, wiping your chin and bottom lip from the soy sauce. You nod with a smile and you can feel a gaze piercing your soul from behind you. You swallow your food and go to pick up your glass. San picks up the cup before you can.

“No, no, let me,” he sits up and gently holds your chin, guiding the rim of the cup towards your mouth.

“I-I can do it myself san,” you chuckle with pink cheeks as the members watch the kdrama unfold.

“Stop talking or you'll choke,” San chuckles before bringing the glass to your lips, tipping it up so the water flows into your mouth. He pulls the cup back and lets you swallow. He smiles, satisfied with his competition with Wooyoung. Wooyoung clears his throat before continuing to eat. You look around awkwardly before continuing, the entire time you could feel their eyes on you, especially Seonghwa's. His gaze didn't feel the same though. It felt more predatory.

After finishing eating Wooyoung and Sans antics don't cease, only begging for your attention more. You stay at the table in respect, waiting for the rest to finish. San brings his hand up to your hair, brushing it out of your face. “Your hair is so soft dear,” he smiles and Wooyoung frowns.

“Don't put your hands in her hair, you just finished eating. What if you get soy sauce in her hair?” Wooyoung interrupts your intimate interaction.

“You put your hands all over her face when you were feeding her,” San crosses his arms. Hongjoong groans and leans back in his chair.

“You two stop bickering,” Seonghwa chimes in. “Or take it to another room. Everyone's finished eating now,” Seonghwa says before taking a sip of his water. San and Wooyoung mumble under their breath before parting ways.

“I'm going to workout, you wanna join Y/N?” San leans over the back of his chair as Hongjoong starts collecting up the plates.

“Thank you but I'm good, I need my food to sit for a while,” you smile and put your hand to your stomach. In truth, seeing San in that state might just make you go feral, lose your train of thought and act on impulse. San shrugs and heads to the active room. You help the two eldest members clean up after dinner and as the night grows near you feel butterflies stirring up in your stomach. You needed to talk to them about what they wanted to do to you but how could you casually bring that up? After contemplating for a while you go to Hongjoongs room, knocking on the door as you enter cautiously. “hongjoong? Can we talk for a minute?” You ask and Hongjoong instantly helps you into his room.

“Sure Y/N, come in,” he smiles and guides you to his bed before shutting the door behind you. “What's up?” He asks softly as he sits next to you on his bed.

“Well I have been thinking about plans for tonight,” you explain and Hongjoong nods. “There are many ways we can go about it but…I thought it'd be a good idea if I started with you,” you explain and Hongjoong turns to you, surprised by your offer.

“As honored as I am to be your first out of all the members, I have to say…I think it'd be best if we talked to them first,” he smiles and brings a hand up to your hair. “All of them want you so bad, they can hardly control themselves. Myself included,” Hongjoong laughs.

“Really? Even Seonghwa and Yeosang?” You look at him surprised and he nods.

“Of course, especially Seonghwa. Have you not seen the way he's been looking at you? The poor guy can't keep his eyes to himself,” Hongjoong laughs. “During dinner he kept staring at your chest and lips. When you helped us clean up his eyes were glued to your ass, attentively watching it,” Hongjoong chuckles as he calls out his friend. You blush, shocked to hear such things about seonghwa. “Trust me all of the members are going crazy over you,” he smiles and twists a strand of your hair around his finger. “Why don't we call them all out to the living room and we can talk?” Hongjoong proposes. You nod softly and Hongjoong kisses your cheek before standing up. You're taken aback by the sweet gesture but quickly follow after him.

You eventually get all the members together in the living room and Hongjoong gets the ball rolling for you. “So our little dove here wanted to know what approach you guys wanted to try tonight,” Hongjoong explains as he looks at you. “I know you're all itching to give her all the attention she deserves but we need to be gentle with her at first remember,” he reminds everyone and you blush. They made you feel so delicate and cherished.

“We could start with something simple to ease into it, just start by stripping and getting comfortable with touches and stuff,” Yunho proposes and Hongjoong nods his head.

“That's smart. What do you say Y/N?” Hongjoong turns back to you and you smile with a little nod.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡SMUT♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“We can start now if you want,” you stand up with a smile. Hongjoong blushes but eagerly agrees. You stand in front of the surprisingly large crowd of men before taking off your shirt, pulling it off your head. Most members have a similar reaction, hungrily watching, except for one. Yeosang sitting on the furthest side of the couch, nibbling on his nail or finger tip while he bounces his knee. His eyes are glued to you but he seems more nervous than the rest. You pull off your socks and unzip your jeans, pulling them down until they pool at your ankles. You step out of them and put your clothes in a small pile on one of the furthest ends of the couch.

“You wanna stop here or keep going?” Jongho asks as you set your clothes near him.

“Let's stay like this for a while,” you chuckle before sitting back on the couch. Their couch was large, definitely enough to fit all of you with a lot of room to spare but suddenly Seonghwa and Hongjoong were sat closer to you than before. The other members all leaned forward to see better and you chuckle softly. “Don't be shy, you can move around to see better if you want,” you chuckle and Jongho instantly does as you suggest, sliding off the couch and sitting in front of your knees. You chuckle softly before feeling a hand come around your back to your waist. You turn and see Honjoong eyeing you up as he strokes your skin.

“Your skin is so soft baby,” he whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl. Seonghwa is suddenly unable to control himself. He leans down and bites your neck, sucking on the soft skin. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of his teeth and mouth on your skin. He begins to roll his tongue around your sensitive skin. Hongjoong is still rubbing your back and waist, searching for a soft spot or a weak point. Jongho just watches intently, watching all of your little reactions. Your eyes flutter shut from the feeling of their hands on you, their bodies pressed against you. You then hear whining. From one of the maknaes.

“Why do you guys always get to go first,” Wooyoung whines. You chuckle as he pouts.

“You can come over Wooyoung,” you smile as you look over at him.

“But where would I touch you? Seonghwa has your neck Hongjoong has the other side of your neck and your torso and Jongho is in the way of everywhere else,” Wooyoung crosses his arms and Jongho scowls at him.

“We'll make room,” you smile as you wave your hand for him to come closer. He Saunters over and you encourage him to sit on your lap. He sits down, embarrassed by how submissive he looks. You kiss his lips softly and he looks at you wide eyed. The two of you make out while you feel numerous sets of hands coursing over your body. You've lost track of whose hands are who's. You feel a hand, most likely Hongjoongs, come up to the back of your bra. He undoes each clip, one by one, giving you time to refuse if you wanted to. Finally all the hooks come undone and your bra loosens off your body. Surprisingly San is the first one to slide it off of your body.

His hands come around from behind you, sliding the silky fabric off your shoulders. He pulls it off your body before throwing it in the pile of clothes. Seonghwa instantly moves his lips from your neck to your chest. He circles his tongue around your nipple, biting it softly, licking all around the plump skin. His right hand comes up to your opposite breast, pinching and sandwiching the nipple between his fingers, occasionally groping the your entire boob as well. This leaves an opening for San to come in and bite at your neck, leaving his own marks before whispering in your ear ever so softly.

“We're going to make you feel so good tonight baby,” he smirks before running his fingers through your hair. You lean back as your eyes flutter shut. So many touches, so many lips, teeth, pinches, it was all so much but it felt like heaven itself.

As the group of them shower you with kisses and attention Yeosang and Yunho sit to the side. Yeosang seems a lot more shy and reserved than Yunho. Yeosang has a pillow brought up to his face, hiding himself, but his eyes are still glued to the scene in front of him. Yunho on the other hand is leaned back as he watches, his erection straining against his pants.

Yunho would hate to be the one to take things too far or move too fast but he can't resist discreetly touching himself through his pants. Yeosang glances down at Yunho but quickly adverts his eyes.

Mingi is on the other side of the couch from Yeosang and Yunho and he is barely keeping himself together, doing very similar things as Yunho except more discreetly. Mingi moves his hips slightly making his erection rub against the inside of his boxers.

You can physically feel the arousal growing in the room. You can taste it, you can feel it, you can hear it, you can smell it.

The group of men surrounding you start getting into as well, their bulges impossible to ignore. The pure lust in the air begins to engulf you, falling into the fantasies, bending to their will. Hongjoong is the first to initiate the real sexual touches. His hand trails down to your panties, gently searching for your clit. He feels the bud and presses down on it, electing a gasp from you. Hongjoong smirks widely knowing he's found the spot but Wooyoung remains in his way. Hongjoong removes his hand before pushing Wooyoungs chest lightly.

"I can't touch her when you're in the way," Hongjoong whines, and Wooyoung reluctantly joins Jongho on the floor. Jongho loves the sight above him, soaking in your lustful scent while watching the way your body squirms beneath the member's touches. Wooyoung on the other hand, not so much. He feels discarded, he wants to be the one touching Y/N, he wants to be the one making her whimper and squirm.

Hongjoong goes back to what he was doing, rubbing up and down your wet folds through your panties. "She's so wet already," he grins. "Look at her~" he cooes and the members are intrigued. Seonghwa is still occupied by your tits and San can't even see your core but Jongho and Wooyoung get a perfect view.

"Damn," Wooyoung says, hypnotized by the wet patch on your panties.

"Spread those little legs baby, show the Maknaes how wet you are for Daddy ~" hongjoong whispers into your ear making your stomach flip upside down and your pussy throb even more than it already was. Mingi catches wave of Hongjoongs words and runs over to you, sitting next to Jongho. to see your wetness, slightly nudging him. Mingi curses under his breath before extending his hand

"Hey we've been waiting patiently this whole time and you just barge in here and start feeling her up?!" Wooyoung whines but Mingi tunes him out entirely.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

Can we turn back time?

Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.

Summary: ^^ Requested

A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

**

Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?

“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.

“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.

His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.

“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”

“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.

She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?

His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”

“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.

“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.

“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.

“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.

“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.

She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.

She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.

**

It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.

She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.

She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.

Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.

It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.

It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.

She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.

**

“199 what is your emergency?”

“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“

“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”

“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.

He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.

She looked familiar tho, he thought.

“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.

“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.

It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.

**

“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.

He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.

When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.

He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.

He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.

He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.

“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.

He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.

“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“

“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.

“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.

“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.

All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.

______

Don’t forget to reblog😋

[polarisjisung]

MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN

synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms

wc: 1.1k

pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship

genre: fluff

warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)

notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️

you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.

you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.

just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.

your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.

the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you

there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.

there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.

jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.

"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead

"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile

"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"

"you know it sung"

his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you

"well I'm here now"

jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back

"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head

you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist

"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple

jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes

there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside

you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much

like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm

"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show

"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes

"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation

"you're my girl, of course I do"

this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips

"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you

"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes

"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear

"my boyfriend"

"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him

"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence

"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"

somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.

despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head

[batsycline69]

Chapter One: Head Above Ground, Feet in the Grave

Summary: You get a tattoo from Jason and realize your first impression may not have been spot on

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 5,576

Warnings: needles, profanity, canon-typical violence, reader has tattoos but is otherwise not described, jason doesn’t know how to flirt.

SERIES MASTERPOST | NEXT

“So. Whatcha reading?” he asks over the buzz of his needle gun. Your confused look is enough get him talking again. “Saw you with a book out front.”

As soon as he stepped out into the front thirty-five minutes after your appointment was supposed to begin, as peeved as you were, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. One of his broad shoulders leaned into the wall, his thick, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Dark curls with a patch of white at the front.

“Oh, it’s Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier,” you reply, a little surprised the guy built like a brick shithouse was asking about your reading. Then again, he’s probably just trying to make conversation.

Jason just nods.

Maybe he isn’t trying to make conversation.

The bad news is, up close, he’s even more handsome. Now you can see the little scar that angles through his eyebrow and another that curves up along his cheek. His eyes are intense as he works, his absurdly large hand has a firm grip on your forearm, guiding you as he works. He smells like cigarettes, but only just, and what you can assume is the lingering smell of the timeworn leather jacket sprawled across the chair in the corner. And all of this is bad news because this guy is obviously bad news. How can he not be, right?

It’s just this feeling, one that you couldn’t shake as soon as he sauntered towards you, the smell of cigarette smoke lingering on his worn black t-shirt. Like he’s too cool for you. Even as he’s permanently etching a skeletal bird into your arm, there’s this air about him you can’t quite place.

Before he led you back to his station, you were so certain there was going to be some sort of bikini-clad model plastered to the wall. But yet, the space is surprisingly empty. There’s a little corkboard leaning against a small table with old designs thumb-tacked to the board and not much else.

“How long have you been working here?” you ask.

Despite asking, you already kind of know the answer.

You’ve been following the shop’s Instagram for a while now. You remember the post introducing Jason, the carousel of photos demonstrating his work. Not that you’d tell him right now, but you had fallen in love with his style as soon as you saw it. The sure, thick lines. The moody shading. Bones and knives and bugs. He had no Instagram of his own for his work that you could find; only the posts in the shop with the caption ‘by Jay.’

“Couple months,” Jason replies. “I was traveling around for a while before. This is the first steady place I’ve worked.”

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. Where were you before?” you ask. It’s small talk, and you hate it, but the lack of conversation is uncomfortable in a way that usually isn’t the case. Silence doesn’t bother you. His silence does.

You wonder if his home lacks as much personality as his station. You imagine his apartment is the kind with the mattress sitting on the floor, TV on top of a folding table, and a refrigerator full of cheap beer. Something that doesn’t feel completely moved into.

He gives a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “All around,” he replies.

Even small talk seems to be off the table.

You give a curt nod of your head. A couple minutes pass, and you can’t take it anymore. “Sorry, you mind if I grab my book real fast?”

Jason nods in return, pulling the gun away. “Go for it.”

God, you feel him watching you as you slip off the table, heading towards your bag on the little couch in the corner. Why is he watching? Why is this so awkward? Is it you? Is this guy just that standoffish? You pull out your worn bookand get back into position on the table.

“You good?” he asks, his intense eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah, all good,” you say, holding the book open with one hand as the buzzing starts back up again.

This is pathetic.

Jason has spent the last few years spending his time around the worst of the worst. He’s been with assassins, arms dealers, and soldiers so bad, even the U.S. Military didn’t want them, and yet, he’s fumbling just because someone cute is reading classic literature.

Fuck.

He’s supposed to be better than this. Ever since he got back into Gotham two months ago, he’s been making deals with the worst of the worst—as far as drug dealers go—without breaking a sweat, and yet holding a conversation with you turns him into Mr. Darcy. He’s blowing it, and he cares that he’s blowing it.

At least everyone thinks he’s dead. If this had gotten out to anyone, he’d die again.

It’s been five years since he was resurrected. A couple of weeks have passed since he flew back into Gotham with another one of Talia’s connections, this time intending to stay for good. He found a little tattoo shop near Crime Alley. Close enough to keep tabs on everything, but not so close that he’d be crossing paths with Batman regularly. The last thing he needs is to run into Bruce while trying to come up on top of Gotham’s underworld. Not until everything was ready.

That’s his world. Swept off the street and recruited for a war that wasn’t even his, not really. That’s just what he was sold: security to a kid fending for himself.

Bruce may have believed he had something to show Jason about Gotham, but this city raised him more than anything. Without a stable place to call home, the city’s streets were the substitute. What more did Bruce have to teach him when Jason had already huddled for warmth in these alleys? Ran from cops, knew all the hiding spots. What did Bruce have to offer when Jason already saught comfort in a place where comfort died? In a place where hope was trying to grow on salted earth. A place so haunted, it’s more ghost than city.

Jason was made for Gotham.

After he died, Gotham fell to ruins in the greatest earthquake she’s ever seen. An anomaly. The world wanted to watch Gotham burn, abandon the city and everyone remaining inside it. Leave her buried in the fate the world deemed appropriate for a city so infected that everyone around suffered.

He knows what it means to come back again, maybe when staying gone was what should have been done.

While he learned how to kill, he learned how to tattoo. Bruce always went on about the importance of keeping their identities safe; he chose his playboy routine, and Jason chose this.

It started before Bruce even took him in. One of the older kids he used to sell stolen car parts to gave him a stick ‘n poke in the back of his dad’s auto shop. It’d only been a few weeks after his mom died. Bruce saw it within a few days of living at the manor. He didn’t comment, but Jason saw the scowl when Bruce saw the shitty skull on his ankle. He didn’t approve, and that made his chosen path all the sweeter.

In London, the guys he was staying with tattooed each other to pass the time. That’s how it all really started. He watched their hands as they worked, watched the way the ink shot into the skin. He gave his first tattoo in the seedy back room of some haunt for scumbags. He had yet to feel at home within his body again, like it was just on loan. Like his reanimation was contingent on something that could be taken away at any time.

But he kept living. And he picked up tattooing fairly quickly. He gave plenty of shitty tattoos to men whose lives ran off of fucking over innocent people. Some of them wouldn’t even live to regret his uneven lines. A good number of them, Jason watched die.

None of that, however, negates the fact that he still can’t have a conversation with you.

Every so often, he spares a glance at you as you read. You’re holding the book with one hand, awkwardly turning the page with your pinky in a way that he knows won’t last long. He’s trying to rack his brain for something, anything, to talk to you about once you need a break from your position.

When his moment finally comes, he clears his throat.

“You ever read any Virginia Woolf?” he asks.

He’s going to spoil his whole ‘asshole tattoo artist’ persona because he’s not supposed to be reading tragic modernist writers, but he can’t bring himself to fall into his usual routine. He wants to hide behind the metaphorical mask he wears when he’s not wearing his literal mask, but he just fucking can’t with you.

He doesn’t know you. You’re just someone who booked with him a few months ago. You’re a civilian, and he is supposed to be getting ready for his Gotham takeover. Now isn’t the time. He’s got work to do.

Unsurprisingly, you seem caught off guard by his question when you look up from your book. You try to regain your composure. You seem like someone who wants to be polite like that. Jason’s eyes land on your finger as it slips into your book to hold your place.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve read a couple of hers.”

Jason gives a single nod of his head. He breathes as if steadying his aim to shoot. “I’m reading Mrs. Dalloway right now,” he says.

If you were someone he had to threaten, it would be going better than this. He could get you to tell him all of your secrets in under a minute no problem. But he doesn’t actually have to know how to do any of this to know that’s the wrong way to go about it. Besides, how could he forgive himself if he brought you into Red Hood’s world? You don’t belong there.

“Are you much of a reader then?” you ask.

Jason recognizes it for what it is. You’re holding out a hand, practically guiding him into a conversation just like you’ve tried so many times. You notice he’s trying too.

His lip quirks up a bit at the corner. “Yeah, I am. But don’t tell anyone. If they figure out I’m not an idiot, they may ask me to help out more.”

You graciously laugh at his joke.

He likes your laugh. It’s soft, like your skin. He’s tried to not think about it, but he has noticed. He knows you’re going to take good care of the bird carcass he’s tattooing.

When you reached out and told him what you wanted, he knew he couldn’t possibly turn the idea down. He did always have a fucked up sense of humor.

You’ll never know what makes this funny. He can’t do that to you. Maybe you can know Jason the tattoo artist, but you can’t know Red Hood.

Jason looks at you with a softness you miss when you glance away for a minute. “I’ve got a Metamorphosis tattoo over here,” he says, briefly raising the arm holding yours down.

You turn your head, trying to get a look of his Kafka tattoo, and Jason feels a little bit of warmth growing in his chest, even if he desperately wishes he didn’t. He’s getting way ahead of himself like a kid. It’s going to hurt that much more when you realize all the reasons you shouldn’t get involved with him. He shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself. He shouldn’t be getting distracted. This job isn’t for him to make connections with avid readers; he’s here to know what’s happening and when.

For all he knows, you could be a spy, aware of the moves he’s trying to make. Could work for the Penguin. But he’s aware that’s a Bruce level paranoid thought, and he’s not proud to admit that. His ties to Bruce are supposed to be severed forever.

Two hours pass far less painfully than you were expecting. Not in the literal sense, because your arm has started to get sore, but in the sense that you and Jason are finally actually talking, more or less. You take a break, trying to get the blood flow back into your arm from being at an angle for so long.

Your stomach started rumbling half an hour ago, and now you’re scrolling through your phone, chatting with Jason on what you should order. He says by the time food would get here, he’d likely be finished up.

Jason’s already told you he doesn’t do a lot of delivery. He says it’s because things are always fresher at the restaurant.

After the last couple of hours spent talking literature, you know your first impression of him was wrong—there’s a joke about books and their covers somewhere in there—but be that as it may, you still haven’t quite figured him as the sort of guy that’s going to be overly snobby about food.

He says he cooks, and you believe him, more because you like to indulge in the thought of him knowing his way around a kitchen. You also just want to believe it for the sake of justifying the crush you feel creeping in every time he shifts your arm.

You’re not going to hold your breath hoping he opens up to you, but you can tell he’s someone with a story. Someone with history. And that’s something you can respect, because you’ve got your own past you’d rather not shell out just because your tattoo artist is hot. That doesn’t stop your mind from wandering though, trying to fill in the blanks.

Maybe he did some sort of stint in the military. That’s your first guess, at least. You didn’t get any more information on the tattoos he’d done ‘all over,’ and he doesn’t talk about it anymore, so you can’t really figure out anything more than that. You also consider the fact that it’s Gotham, and shit just happens. It’s not your right to meddle in whatever tragedy this city has doled out for him.

“One of the apprentices orders delivery here a lot,” Jason says, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s not helpful, nor does it answer my question,” you say. “Even if you don’t get things delivered, you still have to know what’s good around here, right? You’re not bringing a little brown bag lunch to work every day.”

“And what if I do?” Jason asks. His voice is low, almost like he’s daring you. The features on his handsome face are serious, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that hints he’s teasing you. And damn those eyes. You’re thankful he’s been spending the majority of your appointment staring down at your arm, because you’re not sure you’d survive two hours of looking at him, seeing where the thin ring of blue around his iris before it bleeds into vivid green.

You laugh. “Then I’d admire your dedication.”

You think he’s mostly being difficult because you offered to buy him food, a perfectly normal thing to do. But explaining to him that you’ve offered to everyone you’ve gotten a tattoo from doesn’t seem to change his mind. He’s stubborn, that much you can tell.

As you continue to scroll your phone, silence settles between the two of you. The silence doesn’t feel so oppressive this time, not weighted by awkwardness and uncertainty. Now it feels like a surrender. Neither of you bring up the beginning of the appointment. Not how he was late, not the tension that seemed to linger between the two of you, not how convinced you were that he actually hated the fact that you were sitting in his session.

“The fries at Wally’s are the best in Gotham.”

His voice comes from behind you, and you jump, turning over your shoulder quickly. He’s peering over your shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. You hadn’t even heard him get up from his stool. Last you’d looked his way, he was sitting across from you.

You spit out a curse. “When did you get back there?” you ask, clutching your chest with overdramatic flair.

“What, you didn’t see me get up?” he asks.

You scoff. “No, I didn’t see you get up. What are you, some kind of fucking ghost?”

And Jason laughs.

At the best of the times, you consider yourself a relatively dignified individual. Maybe it’s a bit of flattery, but regardless, that’s what you’d like to believe. And yet, there’s something so incredibly rare about the sound of Jason’s laughter, something that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. It’s like hearing something long forgotten. Like catching the song of a bird long thought extinct. This isn’t the playful scoff of laughter like when you’d said maybe Northanger Abbey was your favorite Jane Austen book, and he’d said you seemed more like an Elizabeth Bennett than a Catherine Morland; this seems like something secret. Something reserved.

Even if the sound makes your stomach flip, your foul language hardly seems funny enough to warrant such a laugh. Your silly off-handed joke doesn’t seem worthy of the burst of laughter that bubbles up from his wide chest.

“I think the hunger’s getting to you,” Jason replies finally when the laughter settles. He nudges his head back towards your phone to get back on topic. “Wally’s is good.”

You have to yank yourself from your thoughts and will yourself to nod. “Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling like such a loser for the way a single laugh could knock you off your track so quickly. You go back to scrolling through the menu to give yourself something other than gawk at him. “So fries. What else is good?” you ask, not daring to raise your eyes.

Jason crosses back over to his stool and sits. Your face gets hot as you feel self-consciousness creep up thinking maybe you’d been obvious, worried you’ll scare him off. But before you know it, he’s naming off his favorite things. And yeah, maybe you bought more than you alone could eat, and maybe you got the burger he spent a few minutes gushing about. If he doesn’t want it now, he can save it for later.

But nearly an hour later, you have a whole spread of junk food in Jason’s station and a finished bird skeleton plastic wrapped on your arm. Jason rolls his eyes at your generosity, and you threaten to eat everything you bought all by yourself, but he eats the burger and steals the fries you jokingly told him to keep his hands off of.

“So can I ask why you were so late?” you ask.

You’re toeing your boundaries. Maybe you’re intentionally trying to press your luck. Part of you knows you maybe shouldn’t ask. But you do it anyway.

Jason looks up from his burger, wiping a small smear of ketchup off his lip. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” He smirks when he sees you quirk your eyebrow. He was thirty-five minutes late; of course you already think he’s an asshole. At least he’s a good sport about it. “I was out smoking.”

“Mm,” you say with a mockingly serious nod of your head. “Leaning up against a wall, cigarette in one hand, Mrs. Dalloway in the other. I guess you must be so cool I have to immediately forgive you,” you say sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

You smirk and go back to eating your food, unaware of Jason’s subtle gaze your way now that your attention has been diverted.

Jason’s used to a somewhat infrequent eating schedule, otherwise known as he rolls out of bed half an hour before he’s supposed to be at the shop, which doesn’t give him much time to eat. And by the time he’s done with his shift, he’s usually starved. He tries to eat an hour before kicking anyone’s ass so he doesn’t cramp up, so that involves him cramming whatever leftovers he has in the fridge into his mouth the second he gets back to his apartment. Then, he goes back out to work.

He’s become somewhat of a late night chef, putting together whatever he can make as quickly and easily as possible. The sort of skills he’d picked up when he was all on his own, trying to keep himself fed from whatever was available, doing whatever he could to make the best of a bad situation. Shoplifting butter and pasta, crushing up old Corn Flakes in a bag with a hammer to put on top. It was something his mom had done. Something he didn’t want to give up.

For the past two hours, he’s been hoping you’ll say something stupid, like how cool you think Batman is.Instead, he finds you kind in a way he doesn’t really see that often. You tolerate his shit to a certain point, and you push back when he goes too far.

People are scared of Jason, hood on or not. And they should be. They see his scars, his tattoos, his sheer size, and they cross the street. They turn their eyes as he buys bread at the grocery store. They can see him for what he is. But for some reason, you don’t. At least not now.

He’s mapping out his plan of how to take over the city, and you’re giving him shit for being late to an appointment for a job he only has for information. The fact that he met you is just a blip in the greater scheme of things, and yet that’s going to be what he walks away from today thinking about.

A guy came into the shop earlier. A local dealer. Jason played cool, pretended he didn’t have an idea who the guy was. This lowlife didn’t need to know Jason already knew where he picked up his supplies. He’d asked if the guy had any plans for the day, as if Jason didn’t already know about a shipment coming in late tonight. Jason’s plans for the evening had been clear. All he had to do was get through one more appointment.

Except that appointment had been yours.

The shop is closed now. A few stations away, one of Jason’s coworkers is still working. In the lull as you both eat, the faint buzzing of the needle and music playing from the speakers up front. Even if Jason wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s comfortable with you, there’s something of a surrender in the time you spend together.

You don’t know the things he’s going to do once you leave, and you wouldn’t assume them of him. What are you seeing in him because it’s sure as shit not something he’s ever seen himself.

At some point, Jason knows he’s going to fuck it all up. You’ll probably get ready to leave, and he’ll say something as you walk out the door that will make you question all of this. Make you second guess this good opinion of him you’ve managed to come up with. It’ll be for your own good.

His eyes drift over to your arm, your bicep still wrapped up in plastic. He can still feel the warmth of your skin lingering on his palm.

For so long, he’d been used to the dull cold of the apartment he squatted in, frigid air seeping in through neglected walls. As hard as he tries not to, he remembers arriving at Wayne Manor for the first time. He’d forgotten home could be so warm.

The warmth of your arm felt like that.

Since coming back in Gotham, he’d given plenty of tattoos, touched plenty of arms. Body heat is body heat, except when it’s yours.

“Where do you go from here?” Jason asks, looking up from his burger.

You shrug your shoulders. “Home, probably. Gonna get that good post-tattoo sleep.”

It’s cold out. You’re bundled up in your coat, aware of the tenderness of your arm where the fabric brushes up against the flesh.

You’re walking towards your train stop. The sounds of sirens echo somewhere in the distance. Purple light filters out through the blinds of one of the apartments you pass, loud bass temporarily overpowering the distant wail of emergency vehicles for a moment as you walk by, until it fizzles back out into quiet. As the music fades, you hear the sound of a couple arguing from an apartment somewhere up above you.

Across from the stairs up to the station is a bar, patrons hanging around outside smoking cigarettes and laughing. You can feel a huddle of men watching you as you move, but you don’t glance their way, just make your way up the stairs.

Yellow-tinged lights line the station, a lamp every fifteen feet or so. From what you can see in the beams of light weakly dispersing from the streetlamps, you’re alone. You find a spot under a nice shelter, though nice is relative considering the lingering smell of piss and obscene graffiti on the walls, but it’s not out in the open where anyone stumbling onto the stop will find you.

The light above you flickers sporadically. You wish there was somewhere else you could wait.

Jason hadn’t seemed thrilled that you were going out to wait for the train all on your own, but you assured him, somewhat indignant, you could handle yourself.

“You sat really well,” he’d said, and you couldn’t help but entertain the idea of inviting him along on the train with you, but you were not going to stoop to that level.

The sounds of approaching footsteps reminds you to keep your focus. You can kick your feet about Jason once you get back to your apartment.

Three guys stumble up the stairs. And just your fucking luck, you’re pretty sure they’re the guys from outside the bar. They’re laughing, and their voices carry from the opposite side of the tracks. You hope they’re going northbound, that they’ll have no reason to cross the tracks. You keep your eyes fixed away from them, down the tracks, now feeling even more impatient for the arrival your train, hoping somehow it will turn you invisible.

But their boisterous conversation suddenly turns much quieter.

Your shoulders tense, and as subtly as you can, you try to slip your hand into your bag for your pepper spray. Blindly, you feel around, trying to move as little as possible so as to not draw any more attention to yourself, because you have no doubts you’re the reason their conversation has become so hushed. If this doesn’t end horribly, you’ll have to try to remember to clear out all of the junk you have stashed away.

One of the men laughs, and then their conversation stops all together.

Your fingers curl around the tube of spray in your purse.

Without looking, you know they’re moving towards you now. Their shuffled, stumbling footsteps are growing louder. They’re drunk and not looking for their night to be over just yet. Unfortunately, you just happened to be in their way while they were looking for the next phase of the evening.

“Hey!” one yells.

You don’t acknowledge him. Maybe they’ll be drunk enough to think you genuinely can’t hear them and give up. It’s wishful thinking, but what does that matter?

Now you’re regretting pretending you were so tough for Jason because these guys sure as shit wouldn’t even give you a second glance if you were standing next to him.

They’ve crossed the tracks now, and there’s still no sign of train headlights. Your grip on the pepper spray tightens, not wanting it to slip now that your heart is starting to race.

“Hey! You!”

You don’t look.

One of them grabs your arm and tugs you out from the shelter. You wince at the contact against the fresh tattoo. “We’re talking to you,” he laughs.

You’re about to use your pepper spray when it clatters to the ground.

All three men look down at it.

“What’s this?” the second man says, bending down and picking it up.

But before any of them can say anything else, a figure just outside of the ring of light the four of you are standing under. You can’t make out any details about him besides the sheer size of him.

“Walk away while you still can,” he growls. The sound of his voice isn’t quite right. It sounds distorted. Your skin prickles with nerves from the sound of it.

The man who picked up your pepper spray turns it towards the figure, threatening to spray.

The figure just chuckles. It sounds cold, metallic. The sound of a gun cocking follows as the figure steps just into the light. The pepper spray wouldn’t do the man any good.

A man wearing a red helmet walks into sight, gun trained on the man holding my arm, but his grip drops instantaneously as he knocks through his other two friends to run, but the other two follow behind almost immediately.

And that leaves you and the guy in the helmet alone.

Gotham has its fill of guys in mask, and sure, there seems to be a new one popping up all the time, but you don’t know this one.

You look up at him, eyes wide with fright. The second the men are gone, he puts the gun back in one of the holsters on his thick thighs, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has them. You don’t know who this guy is, who he works with, whether he’s any better than that group of men or just more armed.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t say anything. He has a voice modifier, you realize now, though you piece that together slowly.

After a beat, you nod your head. Your hand curls over your throbbing arm. You don’t like that you can’t see where he’s looking. Just two unblinking white voids where his eyes must be. “Yeah,” you breathe. Your eyes fall on your pepper spray. The man holding it must have dropped it when he ran.

When it’s clear you’re not moving to pick it up, the man bends down and grabs it. He holds out a gloved hand, offering it back to you.

Your trembling hand raises and you take it from him, offering a barely audible thanks as you slip it back into your bag.

He nods.

There’s still no sign of a train, and he’s not moving.

“I can give you a ride someplace. If you want.”

Don’t take rides from strangers. You’d heard it just as much as anyone, and the man standing before you is the definition of a stranger. You can’t even see his face; you have no idea who he is beneath that helmet. The one thing you do know is he has a gun, and he’s built like a fridge.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, but his modulated reassurances don’t ease your concern. He senses your hesitation and takes a step back. “Do you want me to leave?”

A few more seconds pass as you consider the question. What if those guys come back? What if some other group comes along? But is giving your home address to the guy with a gun a better idea? And would him standing beside you as you wait for your train make you feel any safer? Could you so willingly accept he wasn’t going to just wait for the moment your guard is down to do something, just the way this city works?

Finally, you shake your head. Neither decision seems like the right one to make. But he did help you. Now you just have to hope to god he’s not going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

You want to ask if he’s one of Batman’s friends, but you don’t find the words.

Instead, you two fall into a silence. For you, it’s tense. You wonder if he feels the same, or if this is just a regular night for him. He stands near you but keeps his distance, like he’s aware how intimidating he could be.

The train is so late. There must be some hold up. One of Gotham’s usuals causing a delay in public transit. Go fucking figure.

“Are you new?” you ask finally. If the train never comes, you might end up taking him up on his offer for a ride, so you may as well try and figure something out about him. Any sort of indication of if you can trust him or not.

There’s another distorted chuckle, though somehow, this one seems less malicious than earlier when threatened with your pepper spray. “You could say that.”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you don’t.

Silence settles between you again. You can see the lights of the train in the distance. You’re hoping that nothing happens on the train. All you want is to crash into your bed.

The man in the red helmet stands beside you, not pushing any further to make conversation. He waits with you. As it screeches to a halt in front of you, you turn to thank him, but you notice he’s already gone.

NEXT

[anki-of-beleriand]

The Best Kept Secrets - Ch. 1

Summary: Wanda was on the verge of breaking down when she was called to attend her brother's engagement party. Alone and unable to keep up with her father's expectations she makes a deal with the devil that would lead her to discover a side of her that may either destroy her or bring the happiness she so craves for herself.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: au, Moder setting, No powered charcaters, cheating, idiots in love, unrequite/requited love, jealousy, drama, angst, broken hearts, homophobia, more warnings as chapters come in.

Author's Note: Hello guys! I hope all of you are doing amazing. So, now that I finished two of my favourite stories, I would love to start a new one. Now I need to warn you, this is a real story, some of the events you are going to read happen in real life and of course charcaters had been changed and adapt to fall into place with the story.

Thank you for reading, and giving me the chance to share this with you. Remember English is not my mother tongue, so apologise in advanced for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find in here.

Chapter 1

Nothing to write home about

In the present…

- St Pancras International Railway Station, 3:30pm -

It hadn’t stopped raining since you left home almost two hours ago.

You stood by the platform with your eyes glancing at the empty space surrounding the station, your mind completely blank as you detach yourself from the world. The sound of conversation and laughter grew louder around you, it was a cold day and the jacket barely covering your trembling body; the weight of the last year came crashing down into your soul as the train finally made a stop and people started disembarking scattering around while ignoring your lone figure standing still.

The train was punctual, as always.

You lifted your eyes to the sky, the dark clouds gliding above your head reflecting the storm breaking into your heart.

A lot had happened in a year, and you wished you had been spared the heartbreak of having met the woman that was now haunting your dreams.

You snorted wiping away the tears falling down your cheeks, your hand tightened around the handle. It was not used thinking about the past, nor was it worthy to dwell in it; yet as soon as you went inside the railway truck trying to get away from your life in England.

Your eyes closed tightly, your ears straining to hear the people filling out the wagon as you waited for the train to leave the station. You wished it was easy to forget, that your mind was not fixated on what had happened and that your heart was not so foolish as to hope.

Without opening your eyes, and with your eyes filled with tears you wished, not for the first time, that you could forget…

How everything started a year ago…In the past

“It’s raining.” The voice broke the silence in the library, you snorted leaning back against the chair while holding the book closer to your face.

“This is London, it is always raining.” You replied curtly trying to catch the words on the book before settling down on the table.

You knew it was useless to continue working while you have your roommate tapping on the table with her fingers, you cocked your head raising a brow at her. Natasha Romanoff huffed, tapping rapidly her eyes going from the window to you, then back again.

“What is it?” You finally asked, the young woman shrugged but after you glared at her she rolled her eyes straightening up.

“There is going to be a party, more like a function tonight.” Natasha gauged your expression, her green eyes gleaming with a silent request you were dreading already. “Everyone is going to be there, and I want you to go with me. As a date.”

“As a favour.”

Natasha couldn’t hide her wince, and you could only snort at her obvious attempts to get you on her side. You knew what she was interested in, a blond-haired woman that had caught her attention after a conference in which the woman had charmed her way into Natasha’s mind. The redhead leaned forward placing her hand on yours, there was a soft pleadingly glance in her and you knew you were sold as soon as you made eye contact.

“I really want to see her again,” Natasha was not one to ask for favours, she had learnt from an early age to never let anyone have a hold on her and this petition was something you knew cost her not only her pride but also her confidence.

“What do I gain with this?” You crossed your arms refusing to give into the smile that broke into Natasha’s face.

“Well, for one, you may finally get to meet someone.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes, “doubt it. Continue.”

Natasha scowled at that, she really wished you stopped thinking you were not good enough or attractive enough, or smart, and funny, and lovely enough for anyone out there. She knew that you hadn’t had the best of childhoods, and that your experience with friends and relationships had only left a broken mark in your heart and soul.

“This is also a chance to get to know people that may be interested in investing on your investigation,” this time around Natasha could see that she caught your attention, she held back her smile without stopping her rant, “I mean, I know the school has given you full support with the doctorate, but to continue your work you will need someone supporting the investigation.”

You chewed on your lower lip, lowering your gaze for a moment. It was true that you had been looking into someone that might have wanted to be interested in your area of expertise, it was hard as it was to find someone interested in history, much less in founding an investigation on that field. You could know those events usually hosted people whose interest in such topics were what you needed.

“I guess I could go with you,” you finally gave in, rolling your eyes while ignoring the triumphant smirk Natasha was shooting your way. “But I don’t want setups! And I don’t want you pushing me to get the phone number of anyone, got it?”

Natasha hesitated for a moment before she finally gave in, “I promised.”

“Good, then when is this thing happening?”

Natasha’s smirk grew even more, and a feeling of dread settled in your stomach; for some reason, you couldn’t help thinking her smile was hiding her real intentions with this sudden invitation. But your head soon dismissed that thought, even if that was the case, Natasha had always been transparent in her set ups and she had already promised this wouldn’t be one of her plans to set you up with one of her crazy friends.

At least, that was what you hoped for.

   ______________________________________________________________________________________

Kate pursed her lips watching amusedly as Wanda failed her to strike the golf ball with her club. The young woman was grabbing the thing with all her strength while holding her posture just as tense, this was the fifth time she failed to hit the ball and it was going from amusing to just plain pitiful.

“I can’t believe…” Wanda gritted her teeth throwing the club to the ground, Kate came right at her holding her tightly while she sobbed into her arms.

The tension had come after the news of Jarvis’ marriage reached out to them; it had been a normal day at the club. Nothing too out of the ordinary until one of the oldest ladies in the club came to Wanda’s mother with the latest news about the young hair to the Jarvis fortune. He had married the woman of his dreams, the one he had been dating officially while messing around with Wanda just before leaving her humiliated and broken-hearted.

The man had done anything and everything he could with the young brunette, he had actually dared to talk about marriage and a future with Wanda until the very end.

“Wanda, dear, you never thought I would actually go through with it, did you?”

The man had said to Wanda after she found out about his fiancée, Wanda had been standing by the door of his flat, the man sneering down at her.

“You were there to help me prepare for my future; you were a good plaything until I have to settle down. I hope you don’t take this personally, but I do need a real woman in my life. Not you.”

Up until then Wanda had accepted the secrecy of her relationship with Jarvis, she had enjoyed the solitude of their relationship until it was quite evident the man didn’t have any intention of presenting her to his family. Or to meet hers.

“I was such an idiot.” Wanda mumbled hugging Kate tightly, wishing they were alone in the golf course.

“No, Wands, he was an idiot. That motherfucker…” Kate said, earning a watery chuckle from Wanda.

Kate placed her hands on Wanda’s arms, she offered a tender smile shrugging.

“Wanda, there was no way for you to know what was happening…”

“I should have known, you know?” Wanda placed a hand on her face, she tried to cover her eyes while letting the pain pierced her skin, with her heart twitching uncomfortably inside her chest. “I wish I could die.”

Kate lowered her gaze, hating to see her best friend in such depression, she hated knowing Wanda had been fighting all her life against her own insecurities and the heartbreaks that come with who she really was and how much she was worth. It had been like that for people like them, everyone thought money was everything, that it would get them happiness, and healthy relationships, but in reality it had broken a deep voice that sometimes they filled with whoever showed them a glimpse of kindness and love.

“Perhaps…I just…” Wanda trailed off, she took a deep breath and then looked away. “Perhaps I was not meant to be loved.”

Before Kate could say anything about it Wanda turned to her, “let’s just keep playing, I want to forget for a moment. Please?”

Kate wanted to say something else, anything to help Wanda through the pain of what had happened in the lapse of a month. Her life had changed, and it seemed as if the world had conspired to make her life a misery. With a last sympathetic glance, Kate Bishop grabbed her club and followed her best friend through the golf course making sure she could vent her frustrations without giving into desperation.

 Afternoon had fallen rather fast for Wanda’s liking.

She sat at the table Wearing the same clothes she had used during her game, the weather inside had worsened with heavy rain falling onto the club's property. She grabbed her cup of tea hearing the story from Gwen who had found Kate and herself resting in a corner of the restaurant. Wanda had drifted away after she started telling them of her oncoming engagement party. 

“Of course the both of you are invited, I still haven't decided on how many people will attend,” Gwen fixed her hair giving a lighthearted giggle, “but let's say that Peter had already panicked and the sheer amount of people we are inviting.”

The conversation could have died there, no more was necessary but Gwen had always been naive and just a little dense about the reality of the world. She settled her grey eyes on Wanda, a twitched of the woman's lips told Kate she should say something but she was too slow to react.

“I have heard from a very good source that Victor Von Doom would be there, and your stepmother has already made arrangements for you to be escorted by him to the reception.” Gwen leaned forward placing her hand on top of Wanda’s one mistaking her dumbfounded glance for one of shocked nervousness.

“Aren't you happy about it? I know he has tried to get into your father's good light. and he even asked Pietro if he could approach you with the intention of dating you.”

“Excuse me?” By now Wanda was trembling indignantly,  she knew pretty well what the intentions of the man were. Ever since she was in high school he had tried to buy her and her father to get access to the family's reputation. 

Wanda despised him, he was an arrogant jerk who could care less about her desires or her feelings. The fact that her stepmother was dealing to get the man into a party that she would potentially attend was insulting and quite frankly disturbing.

Gwen blinked confusedly, grabbing by then the tone of voice from Wanda. Her face fell and Kate felt sympathy for the blond-haired woman who was now fidgeting under Wanda’s glare.

“Van Doom is an imbecile whose reputation has been tainted by his inability to hold a business standing,” Wanda stood up, whatever frustrations she had been experiencing in the last month finally getting the best out of her. “Frankly I pitied the woman that fell into his hands, now Gwen if you excuse me I have a function to attend and I am already late to get ready for the event.”

Wanda stood up leaving the table in a rush, Gwen sat there furrowing her brows torn between being offended and perplexed. Kat stood up as well, she shot Gwen a smile placing her hand on top of Gwen's one.

“You better don't invite that man to the party, Gwen. Wanda really hates him, and the fact her stepmother is messing around to try and set her up would be a door to conflict.”

Gwen shifted frowning, “Kate, I'm looking out for her. It has been so long since she dated someone, we all are getting either married or have a relationship going on whereas she is…alone. It's not right. I was just trying to get her to meet someone, perhaps dated and have a family on her own?”

Kate winced at those words, Gwen had been their best friend for as long as they could remember. But as soon as high school ended it was quite obvious where her interest lay and this had erected an invisible wall amongst them. Gwen looked up at Kate trying to find agreement there, but she knew her friends were free spirits, they were always following their own rules and most of the time Gwen didn't find that wise, or even practical. 

“Look I know that, but Wanda.she is not like that. You know that. For her what she is doing right now is important,and she really does not care for marriage. At least not out of social convenience.” Kate offered a half smile, “you were lucky you met a man you fell in love With and that loved you back, but you know that is not the case and regardless of what you or the others said…”

“Wanda wants to fall in love. To be loved and loved back.” Gwen nodded as if finally understanding, she softened her features, a flash of urgency growing in her grey irises. “Oh, I didn't want to…”

“I know, but Gwen you need to start listening to others and start listening to yourself and stand for what you think is right or not,” Kate hesitated before giving the blond a hug. “It was good to see you, Gwen. Don't be a stranger.”

“Please, tell Wanda I'm sorry and I will make sure no one she doesn't like is invited to my engagement.”

Kate walked away from the place rather relieved to know Gwen found a real man that cherished and loved her dearly. She didn't want to think what would have happened if a different individual had approached Gwen when she was younger. With determination behind her strides, Kate strolled down the halls towards the parking lot. In no time she found the car, Wanda was looking gloomily to the horizon, detached from what was happening around her while the tears gleamed under the thunder breaking into the sky. Kate huffed running under the rain before going into the car.

“Gwen says she is sorry.”

“Hn, okay.” 

Wanda turned the engine on, she grabbed the wheel tightly, breathing deeply. Her face fell for a moment, then with a tired stare she turned to Kate.

“Will you go with me tonight?”

Kate nodded shifting in the seat, “you know I will.”

“Thank you.”

Nothing more was said, but Wanda couldn't stop thinking about her life in the last couple of months. She wished she had never believed the lies woven by Jarvis, that she hadn't fallen in love with the man to the point she was ready to forsake Her family and her life for him. She remembered those moments she shared with the man, his sweet words when taking her out on dates and trips, the moments of passion they shared in her flat and the secrecy with which he held their relationship. She had been such a fool, well-played by a man who looked nothing more than the comfort she could offer while his official girlfriend found herself in the spotlight as the love of his life. Wanda had always felt the twisting pain of the knife in her heart, she had seen the red flags and yet her love for Jarvis had blinded her to all of them.

Now, she was alone, broken, and unloved.

Just as it was supposed to be.

With a sob leaving her lips, Wanda cleared her throat and held back her tears. She needed to stop crying, and she needed to get out of her own misery, her mind turning to her friends and work. If she focused on them, perhaps the dull pain in her heart would recede and she would find peace once more.

_______________________

The moment you were welcomed into the world of Academics, you thought it would be a place where nerds of all ages would be around reading, working on new mathematical theories or perhaps on the newest inventions that would change the world. It was something out of the stereotypical image people had of the academic world.

The were mistaken, of course 

Most of the time you found yourself in fancy dinners, and in multiple conferences in which your main task was to forge some kind of engagement and gain the favour of a rich individual to donate to your investigation, your department or perhaps the school itself.  It was exhausting, you had to smile and shake hands while pretending to like everyone you came across. 

The night was still young, yet you had already caught sight of important personalities attending the function meant to give money and brains to the military. Your eyes caught sight of Jean Gray and her husband Scott talking with Professor Reed and Sue Storm. Then, just as you suspected it, you found Bruce Banner talking animatedly to some woman wearing a military uniform while Another one stood in the distance. If Bruce Banner had come to this meeting then, that meant…

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite theorist in the whole wide world!”

You winced hearing the deep, baritone voice of the one and only Tony Stark. You winced and straightened up while turning around, the man was smirking at you with his eyes covered by the shades he usually brought to every event. His hand stretched out, without any hesitation you took it in yours without hiding your perplexity at the encounter.

“Tony.” Your greet was formal, with just a hint of curiosity in it.

“I thought you didn't like these kinds of events.”

“I don't.” Your reply was received with an incredulous stare.

“Then, what are you doing here?”

You wondered the same thing after going back home and getting ready for the night. Natasha had selected your clothes carefully, and her instructions about your behaviour had been quite clear. At the moment, you were just waiting for the redhead to arrive and lead the rest of the night until it was time for her to approach her blond-haired angel.

“You never know where you would find the love of your life, Tony. So, I am here waiting to see if anyone in this forsaken place knows more about arts, science, and books than money and fuckery in general.”

Tony bursted out laughing, placing a hand on your forearm, you snorted, shaking your head while matching the grin the older man wore at the moment. You had been but a teenager when Stark Industries had discovered you in the dirty and forgotten streets of Colombia. A missing child with almost zero chances to grow beyond a mediocre job and education, you had solved a puzzle the Learning and Development department at Stark Industries had devised to hunt for geniuses around the world. Of all the people they recruited at that time, you were the only one that actually got to climb up the ladder inside the Industries and the University.

You had always thought this would earn you powerful enemies, however the total opposite happened and now Tony Stark stood behind you as your protector and main source of income.

“I thought you didn't believe in love.” He stated offering his arm to you, after a moment of hesitation you hooked your arm with his and started walking around the great hall. 

“I don't.” The answer rolled out of your lips with conviction, your eyes sweeping the hall trying to locate Natasha. 

“And yet, I bet you are looking for that one connection that may change your life.” Tony placed a soothing hand on yours, his eyes downcast for a moment.

“Do you believe in love, Tony?”

Tony chuckled, cocking his head, “I do.”

You snorted with a hint of disbelief in your eyes.

“You are a womaniser.”

“Was.”

The word was said with fire and determination, you couldn’t help the surprise in your eyes while the older man shrugged nodding to the balcony. You followed his stare, your eyes caught sight of a group of people talking in The cold of the night. 

“There is someone I want you to meet.” Tony chanted hisnvoice, the sudden hardening of his words Told you he meant business. “He is an old friend of my dad, and has been an important member of the Oxford Board, and a private consultant for the Parliament.”

You raised your brows, now completely at loss as to why Tony was taking you to this person while wondering if perhaps the invitation from Natasha was for another reason. Tony sensed your trepidation, he offered a smile making sure you were looking into his eyes.

“You have the potential to be exceptional, your mind and the way you work are your innate advantages and it is about time you break that comfort zone of yours and start exploring something else.” 

“Tony, I thank you for everything you have done for me, but something like this…” you trailed off when Tony shook his head.

“I know why you have been hiding, but whatever happens you will always count on me.” Tony winked at you resuming his stroll towards the balcony. “Besides, who knows? Perhaps this is what you need to start believing in yourself and you may even find love.”

You held onto your scepticism, you knew the man had a soft spot for you and he has been supporting you from an early age, this was the only reason why you didn't  contradict him and decided to follow him up on his offer. There was nothing wrong with that, after all, and perhaps this encounter would give you the chance to try something new. Something different.

It was a dark and cold night.

The sound of muffled conversation coming from the main hall could barely be heard once they stepped into the balcony. You lifted your face welcoming the cold wind brushing your heated skin, your arms shivered with goosebumps travelling down your back.

You lowered your gaze, finding yourself looking into the deepest shade of green eyes that you had ever seen before. They belonged to a young woman that was wearing a white dress with her hair falling like a cascade of cobalt contrasting with her white, smooth skin and the soft blush on her cheeks. The woman was beautiful, her intense stare caught your breath while your lower abdomen broke into a myriad of fluttering butterflies. Your words caught in your throat, and your mind flash a red warning, as if you were forgetting something important but couldn't grasp what it really was.

It didn't matter, though.

As soon as your eyes found those of the young woman you could only see contempt and just a tad bit of annoyance. You furrowed your brows, confused at her reaction to seeing you. What was with the hate?

“Tony Stark, I didn’t know you were in the country.” 

Your attention was soon claimed by the command hidden behind that voice, your face turned to a mature man with dark, brown eyes and a comforting smile. His eyes shone smartly while they turned from Tony to you then back to the other man, he placed the hands on the armrest on the wheelchair he was sitting in. You tried to focus your attention on him, but the glare coming from the beautiful woman behind him was making it quite difficult to concentrate. 

“I arrived yesterday, and have some business to attend to.” Tony then stretched his hand towards you, stepping aside to give you the spotlight. 

You stood rather awkwardly, the black dress you decided to wear tight around your body with the cold night brushing your skin. The man sitting on the wheelchair lifted a single eyebrow, his lips never lost the kind smile but it were those eyes holding a spark of mischief that made you wonder just what the hell were you missing.

“I want to introduce you to my protegee, Y/N Y/LN.” 

The man nodded towards you, lifting his hand while making sure to never break eye contact. You wiggled, stepping closer and taking the warm hand in yours.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Charles Xavier, at your service.” 

The name clicked inside your head, your eyes went wide while you took in the form of the man then back to Tony who was smiling at you all smugly and proud.

“I’m sorry sir, you said Charles Xavier? As in Profesor Charles?” You asked lifting your eyes when the brunette snorted, rolling her eyes before settling her glare on you.

“The very same, I see my reputation precedes me.” Charles stated highly amused, he gave you a quick glance more to examine you than to actually give a check over. “But the one who is actually surprised is me.”

“You, sir?”

“I am ashamed to admit I thought you were older than what you really are.” Charles stated leaning back, he never lost his smile and his eyes went from you to Tony. 

“That’s a common mistake, sir. But you are really a legend.” This time around you sounded excited to meet the man, Tony puffed out his chest knowing he had done the right thing.

“Oh, please, an old legend ready to give way to the newest generation.” This time around he waved away his hand before turning to the woman standing silently behind him, “let me introduce you to my goddaughter who is uncharacteristically quiet this evening. Wanda Maximoff.”

Now everything came crashing down inside your mind. 

Your arm that was already stretching out to offer your hand stopped midway, your eyes shot up rather quickly and you found yourself looking into Wanda’s own eyes and you understood then and there the resentment. 

You knew that young woman, you had seen her before and had even kissed her once in a public place that ended up with her fighting her boyfriend after the incident. 

The initial shock waved off, your lips broke into an easy smile that soon was joined by your eyes and amusement was clearly drawn in your face. The woman narrowed her eyes, she stepped forward and, not for the first time, she slapped you before turning to the old man who was flabbergasted.

“Uncle Charles, I think I am not feeling well. Thank you for the invite, I will text you as soon as I get home.” Then she turned to Tony, nodding to him. “Mr. Stark.”

You stood frozen in place, your cheek stung with the force of the slap yet you couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened. Charles glanced at you apologetically yet completely curious as to what had gotten Wanda so worked up she decided to slap you in such a public place before leaving without an explanation. 

“Well, it is good to know you are still good at making friends,” Tony said after the initial shock passed, you turned to him placing a hand on your cheek, the smile still on your face. “What the hell did you do to her?”

Charles tilted his head just as interested as Tony with what had just transpired right in front of them. He had known Wanda from birth, and he knew she had quite the temper, but this kind of reaction was something he had never seen before. And if he were to be honest, with how things had been lately, he found refreshing just how full of life she looked just moments ago.

“Hey! I didn’t do anything to her, we just…” You trailed off lifting your arms, Tony rolled his eyes when you waved your fingers trying to find an explanation. “I…we meet under unfortunate circumstances and by those specific circumstances, I may have…well, you know what? I probably deserve the slap, so no harm done.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something when the laughter from Charles caught his attention, you tried to hold back your smile and Tony was actually surprised to see that reaction from the older man. Charles waved his hand away before settling his eyes on you.

“I bet there is an interesting story behind that, but I also know Wanda may be quite explosive at times.” Charles shrugged before grabbing your hand and squeezing comfortingly. “Now, there would be a time for stories, for now I would like to know you more in the professional capacity.”

You furrowed your brows and soon it was quite evident why Natasha had brought you to the function. 

Your life was about to change in ways you never thought possible. 

That was how the story of your heartbreak started.

With a slap and a job proposal.

______________________________________________________________

AN: So, this is the first chapter, i hope you guys enjoy it! tell me what you think and don't forget to like and share it you so want it!