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pluvialpoet · 6 months

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how to disappear

Summary: a reunion ten years in the making serves as a reminder that absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder- especially when history has a tendency to repeat itself

Pairing: dick grayson x fem!vigilante!reader

Requested: no

Warning: nsfw!!! (18+ MDNI), porn with plot, lovers to enemies, unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, choking, angst, minor barbara gordon slander (for the plot, I swear)- do not read if you are not comfortable with the warnings listed above!!!

Word Count: 12,874

masterlist

Light reflects off the crystals that hang from the chandeliers above, and like a moth drawn to a shiny flame, you bask in the warmth of their glow. For as beautiful as the crystalline teardrops twenty-two feet overhead are, they dull in comparison to the- equal parts blinding and mesmerizing, simultaneously gorgeous, yet gaudy- diamonds that dangle from earlobes, rubies that rest against décolletages, and the pearls placed upon dainty fingers in an over the top display of money, power, and status. It’s the epitome of wealth, and though meant to allure, you find yourself disgusted by the flashy exhibitions of greed and corruption.

Every smile is artificial. Every laugh is humorless and diluted. Any feeling beyond complete and utter misery is a hoax. Yet, they play their parts. Each and every one of them continues to mingle, boast, and feign genuineness, but it’s obvious what they are, even beneath their disguises, you recognize the vultures circling the fresh carnage of the innocent- with blood on their talons and a hunger that’s never truly satiated. Do they even know what they’ve done? Do they even care? Given a chance to make amends, would any of them take it?

Revulsion counters amusement as you watch the elite interact with one another. It’s pathetic. In a room full of affluence, not a single person knows pleasure beyond material possessions, and that’s an injustice in itself. Amongst thieves, you’re the honesty that rivals them all- and that’s a scary revelation, all things considered.

Taking advantage of the large crowd, you continue to bump elbows with the rich- literally- as you weave your way through the opulent mass. A tight-lipped smile is granted when you pass an older woman, and an even wider flash of teeth catches your attention from a man around your age. Mimicking the gestures seal your fate, damning you- even if only temporarily- to this game of confusion, a game in which approval and disgust are indiscernible. Having had years to grow accustomed to the tricks of this elitist trade, it’s almost impossible to recall a simpler time. Back when you still thought there might be a modicum of authenticity behind the action, back before you were close enough to spot the invisible strings controlling the marionettes, you believed- and even hoped- that you had it all wrong. There was a time, long, long ago, when you were desperate to believe that there was still some good left in these people, but you grew out of your naivety. Now older, and wiser, you won’t make the same mistakes you once made. Under the influence of optimism, your purpose became convoluted. Not anymore.

Without anyone to dissuade you from reaching out- to challenge you from swiping a few bejeweled tennis bracelets, engagement rings, or even one or two watches and calling it a day- a thrum of urgency spreads through your fingertips. It’s an impulsive electricity you can’t deny. Besides, it’s not like social dynasties would crumble if a few diamonds went missing. If only it were that easy…

Wealth doesn’t doom these poor, unfortunate souls, but their greed- coupled with the blood on their hands- paints a distinguishable target on their backs. If you look closely, it’s impossible to miss that they’re all cut from the same cloth. A hundred different reflections of the same privileged archetype imitate the same gestures, mannerisms, and movements to a tee. An amateur would operate under the guise of distraction- causing a small scene and offering their apologies before making off with their prize- but you’re not an amateur. Not anymore. Not by a long shot.

A few women- four or five, at most- nurse flutes of bubbling booze a few feet away. The sound of their laughter is a little too joyous to be feigned and when one of them waves a manicured hand towards a waiter, signaling another round of drinks, you start to put the pieces together. Perhaps, the ladies in your sights are the most genuine in attendance- even if they’ve lost themselves to their cups. Matching their demeanor is child’s play. Once equipped with a half-empty glass from a server on their way back to the kitchens, you stumble towards the group, plastering on the same elated- intoxicated- grin, and hope that they’re inebriated enough to be welcoming towards a newcomer. Masking the bitter taste of insincerity with a sip of prosecco, a greeting rises from the mix, but it never has the chance to come to fruition because a large hand wraps around your wrist- effectively halting your heist before it even really had a chance to begin.

You should’ve known better.

As you turn to glare at the idiot who dared to put their hands on you, your breath catches.

Two birds die from the blow of one stone, and he takes advantage of your stupor- finding that you’re more pliant in your daze- leading you away from the women you intended to rob, and into the crowd. More witnesses make it less likely for you to cause a scene. At least, that’s his logic, anyway. While it’s not exactly flawed, it’s not all that accurate, either, but for old time's sake, you’ll play along. His hold on you remains firm, and he reaches for the flute in your hand with his other, placing it on a tray and discarding the prop. Your surprise begins to morph into anger- especially when he pulls you closer towards him as the orchestra starts to play a tune. Remembering the steps forced upon you as a child is muscle memory, and you glare daggers up at him- though, they don’t pierce nearly as deeply as the blue of his irises.

“Nice hair,” Dick revels in your obvious frustration of being thwarted, his lips curling into a smirk when your frown deepens, and he asks, “I thought you were blonde, last I saw you?”

“I was,” For the sake of maintaining appearances, you don a phony expression of your own and respond with as much benevolence as you can muster- even though you’re filled with animosity- as he leads you through the steps of the dance. “And you didn’t have a five o’clock shadow,” You note, allowing yourself a split second to take in everything that’s changed since the last time you saw him, before pressing your lips together tightly with a huff.

“Things change.”

As if he needed the reminder…

Chance has never meddled in your relationship. Coincidence doesn’t exist within the realm of precision both you and Dick operate from. Everything has always been on purpose, calculated and planned, never left blindly to fate or possibility- which is why this meeting isn’t an accident. As if he can feel you about to pull away, he flexes his fingers against you, tightening his grip and holding you in place. Ten years later- ten years too late- he’s found you. Not destiny, not a fluke, but with his own intention, and you wish that he would’ve just stayed away.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” As you abandon your costume, your smile falls away to reveal genuine loathing as you force the question from behind gritted teeth. Still, despite your obvious disdain, he doesn’t let you go. “Last I checked, you were in San Francisco- and more recently, Blüdhaven. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You keeping tabs on me?” His amusement contradicts your revulsion, and a shallow breath purges the threat of an outburst. Dick has always had a way of getting under your skin, of pushing your buttons and doing everything he possibly could to make you tick, but the sudden onslaught of such juvenile taunting fills you with a fire not even he can extinguish- not anymore. Despite his charming exterior, the steady flow of his breath, and the easy grin of confidence that was once impossible not to mirror, dampness swells where your palms meet, and you feel the rough, raised reminders that he’s kept busy during your time apart- that he’s evolved into a stranger despite how familiar he still seems- and you wonder if he can feel it too, if he can tell just by touch, that you’re not the same girl he once knew.

“I keep tabs on everyone who might get in my way,” Your eyes narrow accusatorially, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re not special.”

“That’s not what you said the last time we-“

“Yeah, well, the last time was when we were teenagers, and a lot has changed since then.” Any attempt to remain cordial flies out the window when he dares to mention the last time- like it hasn’t plagued you for a decade. Not even he possesses the antidote to the venom your words carry, and he winces slightly as your rebuttal shakes. He clears his throat softly, the sound filling the lull where an apology should sound, and he takes a look over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again.

“Any chance I can convince you not to go through with whatever it is you’re planning?” It brings little joy to watch his smile dissolve into something more serious. His face hardens, and you notice lines and creases that you aren’t well acquainted with- unable to distinguish battle scars from the divots of age- and you quickly shake the thought away. Instead, you stare at him blankly, not revealing an answer. Though, he takes your lack of conversation as a reply, and with a heavy sigh, he shakes his head, “Yeah, I figured.”

He dares to express melancholy. Stunned by his nerve, after everything, not even shame or regret could rattle his courage enough for him to reconsider such a crestfallen expression, and the discouraged twist of his lips and the downcast slant of his eyes are so pronounced and dramatic that you’re unable to discern whether or not this is part of a ruse, or his genuine reaction.

“Did you think that would work?” Your skepticism is muddled with ridicule, a mocking scoff filling the line meant for his counter. It’s almost laughable- the nerve he has to look dejected by your questioning. To be fair, it’s been a while since he’s danced this dance- a routine once familiar, consisting of bite and bark, push and shove, before simultaneous defeat and victory- but he’s smart enough to know that that’s not how this works. “I mean what did you think would happen, birdy? I’d take one look at you, all grown and handsome, and reconsider my plans?”

Even in heels, he’s taller than you remember. He’s always been pretty- all mesmerizing eyes, slightly crooked smile, and sunkissed skin- but not even he was immune to the awkwardness brought forth by puberty. There was a time when he thought his shoulders were too broad, his ears too big, and the angular structure of his face too sharp and strong for a boy. It didn’t look right. Features that were admirable on their own, looked out of place on his face- or so he feared. You always thought he was beautiful- especially when he didn’t know it.

Now, Boy Wonder is all grown up, exuding confidence and oozing charm. He knows he’s attractive, but he doesn’t parade his arrogance- not anymore. His early twenties were a never-ending roller coaster of trying to find himself, his purpose, and where he fit into the grand scheme of things. Conflicted by right and wrong, tempted by lust and surrender, divided by good and evil, he’s had a lot of time to awaken from the grogginess inflicted by nightmares of freedom and liberation. Still, his eyes are just as mesmerizing, his teeth are straight- but his smile is still crooked- and he’s truly grown into himself. The man before you is a boy evolved- still a bird, but with a different set of wings. Robin is an old friend, a fond recollection of a different time, and though the stranger before you mimics the familiarity you’ve longed for, he’s not Robin, anymore- he’s Nightwing.

“Look, they’re anticipating for you to strike,” His warning is low and hushed, but even in whispers you’re able to detect his plea. Call it concern, or at the very least interest in serving justice as quietly as possible, but his timbre urges you to reconsider- if not for his sake, then for the sake of those around you. He really doesn’t want to cause a scene. “Security has been tripled, and you’ve grown sloppy-“

“Did you ever consider that the trail I was leaving behind wasn’t for anyone else but the one person I wanted to find me?” There’s no affection behind the way your fingers thread through the dark tresses at the nape of his neck. Without any fondness, without passion, or care, the action is mindless, meaningless, and merely muscle memory. There’s no repressed feelings you wish to convey, no animosity you’re trying to diffuse. With no hidden agenda, the gesture serves no purpose- except to unintentionally torture you both. Old habits die hard, and something undefined urges you to reach for him. He flushes, and the sight is so droll that you can’t bring yourself to stop. His lips part once, twice, three times, trying to produce an answer, but he’s at a loss. When you cock your head to the side, he tenses. “Of course, you didn’t,” You purr, and he clears his throat softly.

Dick’s no stranger to berating. He knows what it feels like to be chastised, scolded, and reprimanded. This exchange feels similar. The only difference is that you don’t raise your voice, your eyes don’t darken and you don’t threaten him- not with words, at least. If anything, the remark feels like a gentle rebuke, but the sting left from the impact of your insult brands him with shame. You’ve always seen right through him. Easily able to discern real from fake- truth from falsity- under both his domino mask and the hardened mask of his stoic expressions, you’ve always had a knack for exposing his most vulnerable self- welcoming his flaws, humility, and weaknesses to light. Even though he’s not the same kid he was when you first crossed paths, he feels just as naive and guileless as the boy he once once.

“You and the bat were never really known for considering every angle,” Spoken so thoughtfully, he’s almost able to forgive the verbal assault. As intended, the blow lands- precise, heavy, and unforgiving in the center of his chest- and the muscles in his jaw tighten with thinly veiled frustration. It seems, that in the moment he needs his voice the most, it evades him. He swallows consonants and vowels, a jumbled mix of letters that sit heavy atop his palate, and focuses on maintaining his composure- though, his steps are a beat behind and his footing seems, suddenly, unsure. You’ve struck a nerve. Whether or not you intend to wound, the damage is already done. Picking at scabs that should’ve scarred a long time ago cause his insecurities to bleed- a punch more lethal than brute strength and weaponry combined.

Blindsided by the truth, he feels utterly defenseless.

“Can I ask you something, Dick?” Your brows barely pinch together, your voice calm and steady as something softens in your gaze. Dick should know better than to let his guard down- especially when you lean in, and your lips brush against his ear, “If you’re the hero, here to save the day, does that make me the villain?”

“No, you’re not-“

“How about this, which is the lesser of two evils- knowing that you’re protecting a corrupted establishment because it’s what you believe to be morally correct, or taking back what was wrongfully stolen and returning it to its rightful owners?” As you tilt your head to the side, he hates the way that you look up at him through your lashes. It’s not a demure move. You’re demanding an answer, and a look like that- a look meant to allure, tempt, and bait- would have a weaker man spilling his deepest darkest secrets. With a sharp inhale, he reminds himself that the tricks up your sleeve aren’t new. He knows all of the cards you’re going to play- albeit, he’s unaware of the order in which you’re going to play them- and he won’t allow history to repeat itself. Purposely, your thumb caresses the back of his hand- the touch feather-light, but far from hesitant or accidental- and his breath hitches. Dick doesn’t undermine the small, sinister smile that threatens to spread into a victorious grin when he fails to answer your question. Perhaps, he doesn’t know the answer. Or, perhaps, he’s just distracted. Either way, your voice fills the absence of his own. “We’re not on different sides of a playing field, Grayson. You and I aren’t on opposite ends of a spectrum, we’ve always been right in the middle- dancing on a thin line.”

Prompted by the soothing symphony of strings, Dick twirls you- delicately extending his arm and leading you into a spin before pulling you back in- and it’s fitting, the push and pull between you so familiar it almost feels as choreographed as the steps of the waltz you’re dancing.

History repeating itself, just one more time.

“We both know you’re not here to turn me in, because if you were going to, you would’ve done it by now.” Your arrogance causes something to snap within him. Clarity comes rushing back as he breaks free from your spell. Without meaning to, his grip on your hand tightens.

“Look, I understand why you’re doing this, but-“

“No, you don’t.” Like a switch being flipped, your façade shatters- revealing a face so unbridled with emotions that not even a mask could obscure. He’s defensive. Tired of grappling for control over the situation, he tastes power as he parts his lips with a clever retort, but you don’t allow him the space to get a word in. “Did you know that last year, the city council held a vote to refurbish a few run-down parks on the south side of Gotham with the hopes of restoring the communities destroyed by violence, or increasing the GCPD budget?” The heat behind your accusation pokes and prods at his curiosity, coloring him intrigued. Admittedly, he’s not the most up-to-date on Gotham’s politics, but something this large shouldn’t have slipped under his radar- or the watchful eyes of those who swore themselves to protect the beloved city.

It’s deeper than that, though.

Your frustrations, however warranted, seem to extend beyond such an injustice. Between the lines, amongst all the words you haven’t said, there’s a decipher hidden in every twitch, gesture, and glare. From the way your eyes narrow, to the sharp exhale and tightening grip of your fingertips. To sweaty palms and clenched teeth, all the way to flared nostrils- there’s something just beneath the surface that he can’t crack. Too much time has passed for him to unscramble tacitness when he no longer understands the codes in which you speak, and, unfortunately, he needs you to paint a clearer picture than the vague abstract before him.

“When it came down to it, do you think that the citizens of the south side had a say in the matter?” Dick’s smart. He’s not just a pretty face or a nice body- he’s actually got brains to match. You know- deep down- that sooner or later, shapeless pieces will fall into place to reveal the completed puzzle, but you need him to come to the conclusion all on his own. It would be easy to simply reveal your motive, and while a straightforward approach may have been less complicated than the mental gymnastics you’re forcing him to perform, it wouldn’t have been as impactful. Dick needs to understand, and to understand, he needs to feel- the same anger, outrage, and upset you felt. “Do you think the people on the other side of the tracks were given a chance to speak in front of the council?”

“They can’t segregate who speaks publicly-“ The gears are turning- some slower, some faster, and others completely out of control as he struggles to make sense of your elusiveness. When the current song fades out, a scattered round of applause takes its place before a new song begins. Hardly anyone else is dancing, save for a handful of couples who look just about as miserable as you and Dick- without the coordination or grace, the two of you share. It takes him too long to jump to the conclusion, and you tire of waiting for him to put the pieces together on his own. He always did work better with a helping hand- though, the quality of his work declined greatly whenever your hands were involved.

“You’re right,” Your agreement further confuses him, until an additional explanation provides the last bit of clarity he’d been seeking. “But they can change the date, time, and venue of the meeting without alerting the other parties involved, parties that spent weeks building the foundations of a strong claim, and vote on the matter without them being present- subsequently, granting them access to funnel more funds back into their pensions.”

“That’s not possible,” His argument is backed by disbelief instead of reason, denial influencing his refusal to accept such an absurdity, even in spite of proof, and every ugly, undesirable, nasty feeling you’re not supposed to have swirls together in the pit of your stomach at his incredulity.

How can he still be so blind? How, after all of the evil that he’s witnessed, how can he deny the truth in favor of possibility? He may be a man grown, but he still lives in a delusional state of boyhood- where he still clings to hope and the prospect of good intentions even when the jury has already delivered a conviction.

“Why not?” You seethe, simultaneously demanding an answer without allowing him the chance to speak. Unfortunately, whatever’s been brewing amongst your insides finally bubbles over and your own reluctance to accept an outcome where he doesn’t justify your point of view sharpens the words at the tip of your tongue until they’re as lethal as any weapon. “Because good old Commissioner Gordon wouldn’t let that happen?”

It’s resentment- the concoction without a name- but it’s also envy, pain, and perhaps a bit of fear. At the very least, it’s petty, to bring her into this and force him to pick a side, but it’s been corroding your logic- eroding a place in your chest that’s been dormant ever since he last filled it with life and meaning- and you watch his demeanor shift when his lips part to defend her. You can’t bear whatever praise he’s sure to dole out in her defense, especially when she’s just as guilty as the rest of them, as far as you’re concerned. Before he has a chance to tear you to shreds with his ire, you interrupt.

“Look, just because the commissioner has a heart, doesn’t mean that the animals working for the force do.” Without any conviction, you start to claw at the mire on either side of you, closing you in. “It’s always been bad, but it’s gotten a lot worse.” He can’t argue with that. Worse doesn’t even come close to how downright doomed Gotham is now that someone’s poisoned most of the police force. The one group of people who are supposed to remain impartial to power and abide by the laws they’re sworn to uphold, have turned their backs on the people who needed them most, and the people hurting- the ones without flashy jewels or the stomachs for caviar and champagne- don’t have anyone looking out for them.

Not the way they used to, anyway.

“You don’t get to come here and lecture me about what’s right and what’s wrong, just because she asked you to.” Bittersweet tips towards bitter and a sour taste settles in your mouth at the suggestion that she had even the slightest part to play in your reunion. “You’re a few years too late for that, birdy.” This time when the song ends, you take a step back- though, his thumb brushes against the back of your hand before you pull away, the phantom of a silent prospect lingering even when the warmth of him is gone. Once, it was what you sought. He was what you sought. Years of desolation turned your desire for that same heat- tender touches and gentle caresses against skin- into favor of bleakness. You don’t regret pulling away from him, not as much as you did back them. This time, it’s warranted- a choice you make unobstructed by what you’re feeling, now that you know the outcome of what was fated to happen between the two of you.

“I appreciate the dance,” You swallow, your throat tightening with words you won’t allow yourself to say. Instead, a retort finds you, though it feels foreign as you speak it into existence. “Maybe we’ll do it again in a couple of years,”

Without waiting for a reaction, you head off down the same way you came, and this time, without any intervention, he lets you go.

The bathroom door shuts behind you, and the sounds of lively chatter and the hum of instrumentals fade away until you’re consumed by a silence so stark that it buries you. It doesn’t feel real. The soft tapping of your heels against the glossy marble floors cuts through the nothingness- even the slightest echo in the void registering as an alarm, coaxing panic and fear from the rusted, forgotten cells you banished them to long ago- and when you finally take a look in the mirror, you don’t recognize the face that stares back at you.

Your reflection is plagued by guilt, and haunted by ghosts of the past. Well, one ghost, in particular.

Running into Dick Grayson was something you’d prepared for. Since the day you last parted, you always knew that there was a possibility your paths could, and inevitably would, cross again. It was destined to happen, and you were doomed from the start. He makes you reckless. He makes you sloppy and distracted and forgiving. He makes you weak. Back then, before everything that drove a wedge between the two of you, you had a bit of a soft spot for him. He was the only other person in the world who truly understood the life you lived because he was living a different version of the same life. Both protégés, both headstrong and zealous- attributes recognized as both strengths and faults- and both dancing a choreographed routine in the shadows cast by the bat and the cat. The two of you were fated. It was only a matter of time before you started pulling your punches, and he started letting you get away.

The chase was always the best part- second only to the capture.

Still, it’s been years since he left. You’re not the same girl he once knew, and he might as well have been a stranger. More than a decade apart will do that to two people. For everything that’s changed, one thing remains the same- the chase and the capture are unavoidable.

With a shaky exhale, your chest tightens. Resting your palms on either side of the expensive stone washbasin, you attempt to focus on regaining your composure- but another heavy intake of breath punches your lungs. You haven’t come this far just to let him swoop in and gain the upper hand. You’re done pulling your punches. Flipping the golden faucet on, you allow trickling water to interrupt the unbearable silence that surrounds you- a lull so loud it sounds like buzzing static without the interruption of something mundane. With a few more deep breaths, in and out, you begin to fumble with the clasp on your clutch, opening the small bag to retrieve a tube of lipstick. The color has started to fade from your lips, and you use the moment of stillness to touch up your makeup. If nothing else, maybe your reflection will look less distraught with a signature swipe of dark red. You long for a sense of familiarity that you can control.

Above the trickling from the luxurious spout, the door squeaks- or perhaps, it cries- as it’s pushed open, revealing a mirage basked in artificial light and a custom-tailored suit. As your fingertips graze the fixture responsible for the steady stream of distraction, a thud sounds, and seconds later, the unmistakable click of a lock latching into place seals your fate. A wave of emotion- a tsunami of feelings- brings forth a myriad of everything, all at once. Just as you suspected you always would, you’re drowning- caught in a riptide of your past and present, finally merging in a deadly current that threatens to pull you below the depths of your worst fears and direful imagination. You swallow thickly as you close your eyes. It fills your mouth with delusions of saltwater.

This isn’t supposed to happen- at least, not like this, it’s not- but the one thing you’ve been running from has finally caught back up to you. Now’s the time to set the record straight. No more ties. No more draws. Tonight, the victory is yours- regardless of his intervention. He’s taken too much from you to take this too, and you’re done letting him.

“I already told you that this is pointless,” You don’t even look at him. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of meeting his overbearing stare. A swirling sea of darkening blue attempts to sail back to shore- pleading to find refuge within familiar comforts and intimacy- but you cast your gaze back to your reflection, focusing on fixing the corners of your lipstick and leaving him afloat. “You’re not going to stop me.” The promise is backed by conviction- though, you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him, or yourself.

The muscle in Dick’s jaw flexes as he grits his teeth- forcing ivories to clench and grind against each other, creating a perfect, white prison to cage the words he wishes to speak. Stifling his emotions is conventional. It’s a routine he’s perfected through years of reluctant practice. Though uncomfortable and daunting, the void in which he sentences all that’s repressed is secure. It’s safe- if only in the sense that it’s familiar.

You’re familiar- rather, you were once familiar- but he can’t cross a bridge that’s been burned, molten ash still ablaze amongst the rubble, and expect to be welcomed back with open arms. Not after everything that’s changed. Not after everything that’s happened.

Not after what he did.

“I need a list of names,” The determination in Dick’s voice contradicts everything he feels inside. His face hardens- a mask, a shield, protection- and he stands a little taller, fixated on resolving the one problem he could actually solve. “Names of the officers involved in whatever this is,” He clarifies with an uneasy edge to his voice- like he already knows he’s bit off more than he can chew, but he can’t stop himself from going back for seconds, thirds, and fourths.

For all that’s changed, Dick remains the same. A phantom- a spirit, a memory, a ghost- of the boy you once knew disappears just as quickly as your imagination teases familiar red, yellow, and green. He’s not the same. You know it to be true, and yet, you find yourself distracted by glimpses and figments from a different life entirely.

“Grab a pen,” A scoff, an eye roll, and the gentle shake of your head, disbelief and credence existing in tandem- contradicting each other when your eyes finally meet his. “It would be a shorter list if you started with the people who aren’t guilty of committing some type of fraudulent activity.”

You’re not a bad person. Despite varying beliefs, you’re not evil. Mayhem doesn’t bring you joy. Confrontation doesn’t get you off. There’s little pleasure to be found in being the itch that people can’t scratch. You’ve never sought out violence or peril, and you seldom plan on causing either. Just like Dick- just like Bruce- you operate under a different moral code, but a moral code, nevertheless. Even if the only thing it provides is an excuse to justify why you do what you do, you still hold yourself to a standard. Unlike the vile, chaos-thirsty cravens that would happily light the match and watch the world burn, you’re selfless- bound to your morals, if nothing else.

What you do, the sacrifices you make- everything that you’ve lost and everything you’ve fought for- is fueled by benevolence. You’re in a position to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves, to speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves. The power to defend those who have had their rights stripped from them- those who have had their power stolen by greed corruption and profit- is in your hands. You’ll be damned if you let anyone stand in your way and prevent you from doing what you know is right.

Through the reflection in the mirror, you recognize the face that stares back at you. Gone is the fear and doubt that mangled your features unrecognizable. With a heavy sigh, you unclip the earrings that dangle from your earlobes- and the buzzing sound of static fades away completely.

You know what you have to do.

The sound of your heels against the tile might as well have been deafening in contrast to the silence that follows your remark. As you cross the room, your resolve sharpens. Dick Grayson has taken so much from you, you won’t let him take this, too.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ You feign saccharine, your tone phony and filled with counterfeit regret, as you reach for the locked door handle, but Dick blocks the latch, stepping in front of you before you have a chance to wrap your hand around the lever. He knows exactly what buttons to press and genuine annoyance, anger, and frustration fill the space where your poor imitation of remorse once occupied. Through gritted teeth, you command him, lowly, “Move, Dick.”

“You know I can’t do that, sweetheart,” He says it so easily, with a sorrowful sigh and undisputed repentance, that you almost buy the sincerity he’s trying to sell. Unfortunately, for him, you’re not in the market for his misery. He’s a few years too late. Dick can turn his charm up to ten thousand- he can say all the right things and plead with his perfect crystalline eyes- but you won’t risk everything you’ve fought for for a few crocodile tears. You know, now, that you’re better than that. One way or another, you’re getting out of this bathroom- and if you have to go through him to do so, then so be it.

“And you know I’m not above fighting you, right?” He’s entirely unprepared for your snark, the bite that fuels your reply nearly nipping his sense of control straight from the palm of his hand. It’s obvious that this isn’t the same game that it once was, but something much more dangerous. “The dance wasn’t enough?” With your arms across your chest, you challenge, and he hates the way you’re looking at him- like your eyes are piercing straight through him instead of actually looking at him. If you bothered to look closely enough, you’d be able to decipher all of the blatant emotions he’s never been the greatest at hiding. One look and you’d see him- and his heart beating proudly on his sleeve. It’s why you don’t spare him a glance. “You still feeling nostalgic for old times? Because this feels awfully familiar, doesn’t it?”

“What are you going to do with the money?” He asks, fighting to keep his voice stern. His poker face was never the best- or, maybe you could just read him better than most people could. Still, as he stands before you, he grapples with his devotion to whatever this competition is. This clash will never see a winner- only two losers- and he knows it. You do, too- but unlike him, you’re not willing to back down without a fight.

“Give it back to those who rightfully deserve it.” He doesn’t deserve your honesty. He has no right to the truth, but you don’t have it in you to scheme an elaborate lie. However gratifying it might’ve been to feed him false information and watch him fly in circles, you’re too exhausted for mental gymnastics. Like clockwork, you give, and he takes- his stare narrowing, almost accusatorially.

“And who are you to decide who rightfully deserves it?” There’s an edge to his question- like he can’t fathom justice without his divine intervention- and it’s grating, the way he can make you feel so small, and worthless with a single sentence. His arrogance is astounding. Who was he to seek vengeance against Slade Wilson? Who was he to target Heartless? Who was he to sentence Tony Zucco to his death- by placing him behind bars, and granting other enemies easy access to the crime lord, which ultimately led to his demise? The self-righteous guilt trip nearly gives you whiplash from how fast it makes your head spin. He’s no different than you are- no better or worse, since you operate on the same playing field. He doesn’t get to act like he is. Someone needs to knock him down a few pegs, and you’re happily up for the challenge.

“Who are you to try to stop me?”

“Someone who knows you,” He replies, instinctively. “Someone who’s a friend, not a foe.”

“Hmm,” With a bitter laugh, your stomach churns- twisting, clenching, and swirling with swells of irritation, regret, and sorrow- and although it’s a familiar discomfort, it’s been years since you’ve felt the threat of splintering cracks, chipping away at the stone-cold facade of your exterior. Come to think of it, the last time you felt this way was when Selina had told you that Dick left for San Francisco. The reminder fills you with a bitterness you’ve long tried to suppress, and as it bubbles to the surface, so do all of the repressed thoughts and emotions that’ve haunted you for years.

For a moment, you ache- chasing forgotten remembrance plagued by wistfulness. Then, you burn.

“Friends call every once in a while, and if they can’t make it to a phone, they send a postcard to let you know that they’re still alive and well.” Vexation forces your eyes to narrow, the color of your eyes morphing into something much more bleak. With a heavy exhale- filled with frustration and a semblance of humility- you remind him, “Friends don’t disappear into thin fucking air without letting you know why- especially, after those friends, were always a little more than just friends.” There’s a darkness behind your eyes that Dick’s not familiar with, and a weight settles in the hollow emptiness of his chest before sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach. His jaw clenches and he swallows thickly- the tastes of bile, rue, and shame all indiscernible from one another as he forces them back down.

He knows you’re right.

While his absence was abrupt, it had nothing to do with any ill will towards you. There was never a falling out- no crossing a line of no return or being pushed past a point that shattered a shared fantasy. Though the bullet posed no real threat of death by passing through his arm- beyond the phantom agony of lead tearing through flesh, and the hot, wet feeling of crimson pouring from the wound- a part of Dick Grayson did, in fact, die that night, at the hands of the Joker. The Clown Prince of Crime set off a domino effect when he fired at the young Boy Wonder, inevitably altering the course of his life forever. Acts of violent intent seldom harm a single soul, and as if it were fated, you became another casualty from an attack that was never meant for you.

When Bruce fired Dick, he was angry. Back then, thoughts of hanging up the cape never, ever, crossed his mind. Back then, he was content with fighting crime alongside his mentor, and never really considered what would happen next- or if there’d even be a next, or an after. He felt betrayed, abandoned, and filled with cynicism. As selfish as it was, you weren’t even really an afterthought in the downfall of his life caving in and swallowing him whole. He needed time to heal- time to rebuild- and prioritize who he was when he wasn’t hiding in the shadows left behind by a cape and cowl. Years passed, and with time to reflect, Dick’s bitter resentment morphed into a new kind of devotion to himself, and the few that started to look to him for guidance.

Before the Titans, he never really considered himself to be a leader. He spent most of his life abiding by rules and plans- roles and paths- that were set for him by another. Had he been hungry for control before, his first real taste solidified an insatiable appetite for the very thing he felt himself deprived of for too many years. Though, he’d come to learn that there was an ugly side to the power he wielded. Some days, the responsibility felt like a burden, and others, he felt like his guilt and uncertainty would swallow him whole. He bottled up all of his doubts, packed them somewhere deep inside the closed-off caverns in his heart where darker demons haunted, and forced them elsewhere- out of sight, and out of mind, but never truly gone.

It’s not fair that, somehow, you’ve come to possess the key that matches the lock on his Pandora’s box. Every emotion, every feeling, and every thought meant to be suppressed and banished to a place where they couldn’t torment or harm him, refuses to go gently when one simple, magnetic look threatens to release them from their cages of skin and bone. The most daunting realization of all, however, is that he’s the one to blame- for everything.

For all of it.

Selfishly, he’s hoped for an ember amongst the carnage he’s created. He’s held onto some convoluted idea of hope that whatever was once alight could be reignited again if he fully committed himself to an apology, but he failed to acknowledge the amount of ashes he’d have to sift through for a hint of a spark. There’s too much disappointment, too much duplicity, regret, and time passed between the two of you for things to ever revert back to even a semblance of what they once were.

He looks to you now, and he sees it- your anger is a mask for your pain. It’s so faint he almost misses it, but your lip threatens to wobble. Beyond the wrath you try to convey with the narrowed glare of your eyes, he watches as thinly veiled yearning mingles with what’s left of the color of your irises- simultaneously faint, yet prominent to the only other person who knows what it’s like to push away the person you love. What Dick and you shared wasn’t love, but it could’ve been and that’s what you’re both mourning- what could’ve been.

“You and I aren’t friends, Dick.” He hates the finality behind your conviction. It’s so cold, and void of the warmth he associated with you once upon a time. A split second threatens to expose the façade, and you blink back tears instead of allowing them to fall- swallowing emotion and banishing it elsewhere. Feelings have no place here. Instead, you grit your teeth, clenching them together so tightly that your jaw begins to ache. He watches you struggle to commit to the act- because that’s what your rage is, an outlet for your passions- and as you take a step closer toward him, his breath hitches. “Now, get out of my way,”

Toe to toe, you meet his gaze, and no matter how hard you try to fight it, despite your best efforts to disguise what you truly feel, Dick sees right through you- recognizing the parts of you that you try to mold and shape into something else. After all, he’s your greatest weakness- and you’re his. You always have been, and he always will be.

He dares to move. This close, he resists the urge to reach out for you and never let you go again, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you. Hesitantly, he raises his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as the shaky tips of his fingers graze your chin with a tenderness you’ve sought since the last time you felt it. The air is tense, passed back and forth by sharp breaths and thundering pulses- intimate with warmth and affection that mimics that of a simpler time- and when his palm rests against your cheek, cradling it with such gentle endearment in the face of betrayal, you let him. Dick’s throat bobs, and he pours everything he can’t bring himself to say into such a delicate touch. Every apology he wishes he had the courage to speak aloud, every declaration of devotion he was too afraid to voice, and every inevitable truth he attempted to ignore lingers, and you can feel it- in every shy stroke of his thumb across your cheek.

“You’re not going to distract me,” A single tear merges with the pad of his thumb- a testament to your resilience, but no match for the broken, battered, beaten bond you share with the man before you- and your certainty begins to dwindle. There’s a string that ties you to him- an invisible thread strong enough to stitch the two of you back together when you should remain apart- but you’re destined for him, the same way he’s always been destined for you.

It was foolish to believe any differently.

“I’m not trying to distract you,” Barely above a whisper, he pleads, desperate to make you understand, “I’m trying to apologize.”

He hangs his head with defeat, his shoulder slumping forward as he peers down at you. He’s never known such cruel torture. Such sick and twisted suffering is self-inflicted. The past erodes his future, but he can’t stop himself from resurrecting his demons. Foolishly, he invites them to haunt him further- and you’re no exception. His tightrope is stretched taut, and it’s a long way down. How much longer can he balance between anemoia and actuality before tipping one way or the other? It’s insanity- repeating the same act and hoping for a different outcome- but Dick can’t bring himself to accept that this time won’t be different. If nothing else, the possibility that this never-ending game could crown two winners is enough for him to play the martyr, and suffer whatever repercussions might follow after barring himself whole. What more does he have to lose, if not everything he’s already lost, again?

It would be so easy to reach past him and turn the lock in your favor, granting your escape. Hell, with the way he’s looking at you now, you know that he wouldn’t even put up a fight. He’d let you waltz right past him, slipping through his fingers for the umpteenth time because he knows that this time won’t be the last. It never is. Visions blurred by uncertainty flash before your eyes- infinite possibilities, each with consequences and punishments, rewards and sacrifices- but the unknown doesn’t elicit the same adrenaline-filled excitement that it once did. Maybe because this time, Dick isn’t fighting back. Surrendering his shield, he abandons resistance- instead, entrusting you with the vulnerability that spills from his heart, blood crimson against his fingers as he squeezes it with each thump and thud- crumbling before you, and submitting everything he has to give to you. Even if he can’t bring himself to support your cause.

You lean in closer, drawn to him- the same way you always have been, and likely, always will be- and your palm hovers over his chest. For a second, it’s unclear whether or not you’re going to reach out for him or push him away, but when your hand meets the fabric that covers hard muscle, you know you’re done for- because in the same ways he’s willing to fall before you, you’re willing to fall before him, too. Over and over again. Repeatedly and infinitely.

“Well, you have impeccable timing,” Your reproach is close enough for him to taste. It wavers against his lips and slips past his tongue, allowing him to savor parts of you he hasn’t been allowed to indulge in for so long. There’s no mistaking the invitation of your reprover, and Dick’s palm rests against your lower back, coaxing you closer towards him as his nose brushes against yours. It’s dizzying, and your arms find their way around his neck to steady yourself when he rests his forehead against yours with a soft sigh. The irony of the situation isn’t lost upon you- even when the two of you have ceded to one another, you’re still fighting to see who will give in first. As if he’s come to the realization at the same time, a large hand- rough and callused, but soft and tender in the way that it trembles against your cheek with anticipation- encourages you to tilt your head back, and you follow his lead. You hold your breath as your lips part, and Dick surges forward, slotting his mouth against yours in a kiss that’s fueled by the release of years of pent-up longing, need, and want. The gesture is foreign, yet familiar. Reminiscent of the past, yet entirely new. Everything you remember and everything you’ve ever dreamed of merge together in this moment and bring life to what had only ever been fantasy before his lips found yours once more.

It’s exhilarating.

“I missed you,” The affirmation rumbles against your skin, warm with fervor and urgency, and it’s completely unnecessary- considering that each movement acts as a balm to soothe wounds of time, fear, and doubt- but he vows with each breath, relying on words to convey what his actions can not, and vice versa. Masks are off. Shields have been abandoned. Capes remain long forgotten at the door. This is no longer about duty or morality. No, this moment is about two people seeking confirmation for what they’ve always known to be true- that a love unspoken, but never absent has always existed between them. Two people- not vigilantes or heroes- two hearts, beating to guide the other back, are bare, open, honest, and raw without the theatrics of a chase or the pretense of a game. Surrender invites you to balance on the edge of a precipice, and you’re the first to lose your footing.

Desperation is an influence, and his lapels wrinkle with the severity of your hold. Through the haze of everything unknown, he’s the only thing that’s clear, and you reach for him- blindly, but intentionally- clawing at the fabric that keeps him from you. Clashing teeth and bruising grips don’t elicit pain, not when real suffering exists in the absence of the other, and you allow him to paint you violet, blue, green, and red with desire, becoming the embodiment of his want. Your only regret is that the evidence of this divine crime will eventually fade away to nothing more than a memory- another ache that will never dull, a moment so unique that it can never be replicated. As you rejoice, you mourn.

“Sure you did.” His blazer drops to the floor as you follow your script, hardly taking a moment to realize that the page you’re reading from is blank- without word or direction- as you venture into unknown territory. Even when you don’t mean to be, you’re combative. Even when you don’t want to be, you’re still on edge. This is different. This already feels different than before, and maybe it’s because there’s a lot more at stake now that both of you have already lost one another, but for as overdue as this homecoming is, something subconsciously prolongs it further.

“No, really, I-“ He begins, ready to mold rhetoric and force it to take on a form that would allow you to see just how much you mean to him, but that would make this real, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for this to be real yet- because if this is real, if this isn’t just a cruel imitation of memory like so many variations before or a concocted fantasy so vivid you can feel yourself shaking, then that means you can lose it all, again. Just like last time. Within your grip, one minute, slipping through your fingers the next.

“Don’t.” Fear sounds different when there’s a bite to it. It could almost pass as annoyance, if you’re able to keep your voice just steady enough, and he mistakes the command for irritation, rather than the timidity it actually is. Whatever you’ve intended and he’s interpreted gets lost along the way, and he takes a hesitant step back. It’s impossible not to lunge for him as he retreats, but you remain still- your breath hitching when he holds both hands out to you, surrendering his palms while he shows he meant no harm.

“Can I…”

“You don’t have to ask,” You silence his fears quickly, closing the space between you before you even realize that you’ve taken a step. This self-sacrificial eagerness to light yourself on fire just to keep him warm has always been one of your greatest downfalls, but a most ardent gesture, and with ash on your tongue and soot in your lungs, you strike a match the minute he begins to second guess himself. “Just pretend it’s like before.” The suggestion sounds just as unsure as you are, but with a heavy breath, you encourage, “Pretend that nothing’s changed…pretend that we’re still…” You can’t even bring yourself to say it, because the kids you were back then are gone. They’re never coming back. You can’t avenge them or try to seek vengeance for what they’ve lost. It’s over for them, but this is just the start of this new beginning for the two of you. “Just for tonight.”

He moves promptly, gathering the skirts of your dress in one hand, fisting the fabric- a blue so dark he mistook it for black, or perhaps it was, until his fingertips were close enough to paint the illusion with light, making it appear different than it was- without any regard for creases or lingering proof of your affair. Support rests at your back, his chest firm and protective as you lean into the rippling muscle, and Dick continues to illuminate shadows of the past with each touch- eager to help you forget all of the agonies suffered at his hands in favor of remembering glimpses of peace. He’s ready to give you more than just a taste. Now, he wants to gorge you with the pleasure he’s reserved.

His hands shake- not with hesitancy, but anticipation, and when you catch his eye in the mirror, you shiver. You’ve never seen a blue so dark it looks black- until now. Without warning, he mouths at your neck- kissing, sucking, biting, any part of you he can get his lips on- reacquainting himself with parts of you that were once so familiar, and you allow him to explore. Blindly, you reach for one of his hands, taking it in your own, and he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours, but you gently guide his hand where you want it most- and he lets you, following your lead just as impulsively. You jolt at the first brush of his fingertips between your legs, even though you were expecting it, and he lets out a few ragged breaths against the back of your neck. It’s paradoxical, the chills that contradict the flush of your skin, but this relationship has never really made sense before. Why should that change now?

Almost as if he’s in a trance, Dick is overwhelmed by the twists and turns of the evening, but the whiplash is starting to subside in favor of something much more exhilarating. He never thought he’d have this again. He believed moments like these to be lost to time, and he wasted years grieving memories he could never replicate, only to feel the weight of your body against his once more. It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s everything he never knew he wanted or needed until it was stolen from him, swiped right out from under his nose by his own negligence. He won’t make the same mistakes this time. No, this time, he’s going to do it right. He’s going to-

“Fuck,” When you grow tired of his stalling, you force his hand, again. This time, when your fingers meet his wrist, you press your palm on top of his- coercing him to mimic the shape- and maybe you’re the one in control, or maybe he finally rises to the occasion, but with a newfound determination, he cups your cunt- a choked sound catching in his throat when he feels how wet you are. You briefly wonder how something so vulgar can sound so pretty, but you already know the answer- it’s him. It’s always been him. Had it been anyone else, the effect would cease to exist, but it’s Dick, and that desire- that pull that you can’t ever deny- will always bind you to him.

You can’t help yourself from rutting against his palm, and he presses himself further into your back, allowing you to feel the hard outline of his cock against your ass. The hand that isn’t between your legs rests on your arm, and when he tries to hold your hand, you don’t deny him. There’s just too much fabric for you to hold in just one hand and some of it drapes over his forearm, but you manage to keep most of it from obscuring his movements. It’s a strange angle, and both of you are fumbling to make it work, but you crane your neck in search of him, and he answers your call with an eager kiss. Your tongue caresses his, savoring the feeling and committing it to memory, just in case-

He swallows your surprised gasp when he nudges your panties aside and begins to circle your clit. With just a bit of pressure, a crease forms where your eyebrows pull together, and you untangle your hand from his hold to brace yourself against the counter. It’s been a while since someone else has touched you, and it’s been even longer since the last time Dick had, but it’s so much better than evocations of pleasure. You swear figments are tangible. Spurred on by the reaction his touch has coaxed from you, he’s torn between making the moment last as long as possible or picking up the pace. He settles on the latter, considering that if this is heading the way he hopes it’s heading, he’ll have all the time in the world to make it up to you, but right now, he’s on borrowed time. You both are. With the reminder looming overhead, he adjusts his hand so that he can continue to work your clit while lining up a finger with your pussy. You’re so wet, and warm when he curls his middle finger inside, and he can’t remember why he ever left in the first place. What persuaded him away from Gotham when you were always right here? Would you have waited for him? Would you have followed him if he asked you to? He supposes none of that matters now, but he can’t help but wonder…

He adds a second finger, and even though your body gives little resistance to the intrusion, you groan at the feeling. His fingers are so long, reaching that spot inside of you that your fingers are just too short to reach, and they’re thick enough for you to feel yourself stretching around him with each thrust- not enough to cause pain, but an ache that serves as a reminder that it’s been too long since the last time you’ve had him like this. You vow not to let another ten years pass before you let him have you, again.

He continues a steady pace, curling his fingers in such a way that sweat begins to glisten across your chest, and when a third finger threatens to join his others, you wrap your hand around his wrist- abruptly halting his movements.

“N-not enough time,” He doesn’t even get the chance to ask before you supply him with an answer, but he nods in understanding once you offer an explanation. He’s already reaching for his belt, unbuckling the clasp and roughly shoving his slacks down before you have a chance to catch your breath, and you’re grateful- if the speed in which he undresses is any indication of his own eagerness- that he’s just as desperate for you, as you are for him. Taking a moment to adjust your skirts so that you don’t have to hold them, you bunch them above your hips and lean forward, resting your forearms against the counter while Dick frees himself from his boxers, and when you look back in the mirror and catch sight of his cock behind you, you can’t help but swallow thickly.

He strokes himself a few times, smearing the pre-cum beading from his slit down his shaft as he prepares to take you. This doesn’t feel like last time. As he reaches for your waist and lines himself up with your cunt, this doesn’t feel like last time at all. This is new, and different and everything he’s wanted ever since the last time he had you in his grasp. This time, he won’t let you get away. With as much self-restraint as he can manage, you feel the tip of his cock against your opening, slowly splitting you open, and your back arches. Your own strangled cry prompts a groan from him he sinks into you, inch by inch until his hips are flush against you. You’re so full that you’re not sure if it’s too much or not enough.

“I’ve got you,” Dick assures, his grip on your hip tightening when he feels you struggling to accommodate him. He tries to be a gentleman. He tries to give you a few minutes to adjust- even though he wants nothing more than to take what’s right under his nose, what’s always been his- but his restraint snaps when he feels you begin to rock back against him.

“Move,” You command, and he doesn’t have to be told twice. With your permission, he’s happy to follow orders and obliges with a sharp thrust upwards. The sound you make is a mix between a sob and a moan, and his fingers flex against your hip as he repeats the action.

“I forgot…” Through clenched teeth, he confesses, and you don’t think anything of the admission, too lost within your own feelings to attempt to decipher his. Instead, he wraps an arm around your waist, offering thick muscle to serve as a buffer between your body and the stone he has you pressed up against- relying on intimate gestures to make up for words lost in translation. Even now, when you’re not on the same page, you still know. Somehow, you know, and he does, too. Every time. Without fail. Always. Your head rolls back to meet his shoulder, and your fingertips claw at the back of his neck awkwardly, with transparent desperation to pull him closer. Within reach isn’t close enough. Near is too far. With a muted gasp, you push back to meet his next thrust, and he hisses softly before elaborating, “I’m so sorry if I made you forget.”

“Dick-“ Realization begins to splinter the mirage of bliss, and you manage to say his name with enough caution to serve as a warning. You don’t want to think about the past. Not right now. Not when you can see your future so clearly in the foggy reflection of the vanity. He wraps his hand around your neck, encouraging you to bare your throat to him and he licks at the vein that calls out to him.

“I won’t let you forget, not this time.” He vows, bucking his hips faster and faster as you whine in his hold. In some sick twisted way, he loves that he’s the only one who has this power over you- that he’s the only one who could ever elicit such a reaction- and it’s a testament to how much the two of you care for one another; the influence both of you have over one another. “This time, I want to remember.”

It’s going to be impossible not to.

“I-“ He can barely get a word out with how good you feel around him, and he takes a breath before trying again. “I know you want to pretend, but fuck…I can’t.” Dick wraps his arm around you, guiding your back to rest against his chest, and one of his large hands splays across your stomach, where he can feel himself inside of you. “I really did miss you,” Somehow he manages to find his voice. “Not just like this, either,”

“I-I missed you, too.” You don’t seem certain, not with the way you stutter, but your reply is genuine. It only appears dubious because Dick’s palm begins to press against you, and you all but choke on your confession. He can’t help himself, but neither can you.

“I’m close,” He rasps, brokenly. “Shit,” His thrusts begin to falter, and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Are you-“

“Yes!” You yelp when his fingers start circling your clit, and he doesn’t relent, even when he feels you start to tremble beneath him. You’re overwhelmed by him, in the best way possible, and as eager as you are to chance your release, a part of you never wants this moment to end. “Dick, please d-don’t stop,” Your muscles grow taut, and when his thrusts lose their precision, you know that he’s almost there. “Just like before,” You encourage him, clenching hard when he bites your shoulder and your orgasm washes over you. “J-just like before.”

He knows what you’re asking for. He understands what you’re practically begging for, and in a fleeting moment of clarity, he catches a glimpse of the faded scar on your arm- his only regret being the fact that an implant still stands in the way of what he truly wants with you- but the thought disappears as quickly as it materializes.

A few seconds more and he grunts against your neck, pulling your hips to meet his and spilling himself inside of you. It’s even better than you remember and your body shakes with aftershocks of pleasure. Luckily, he’s there to keep you upright. Your vision starts to blur and the only sound you’re able to make out is both of you struggling to catch your breaths. With a heavy sigh, he pulls out, and you can feel his cum start to leak from you, but you’re too disoriented to clean it up. Instead, you lean forward, relying on the countertop for support as you hang your head and try to come back to your senses.

Dick leaves a trail of soft kisses down the back of your neck and his forehead is both warm and damp when it meets your shoulder, resting comfortably against your skin while he takes a minute to catch his breath, and these sensations- these tiny little reminders that he’s here, this moment is present and real- ground you. Where your mind is a mess, reeling with indecision, emotions, and thoughts you can’t yet process, your body is at ease.

As your eyes flutter shut, greedy gulps of air fail to satisfy your lungs, and you swallow thickly, allowing pressure to build up in your chest until you simply can’t take it anymore. Darkness saturates all that you can see, and you’re caught in a void- trapped, without any light to guide you back home. The gentle caress of his touch along your arm brands you, flush enough to make you burn with reminders of this fleeting moment- when embers of devotion inevitably fade into ashes- and you stiffen in his hold, not that he’s coherent enough to notice.

He seems to be in his little world as he tucks himself back into his pants and presses another gentle kiss to your shoulder before wrapping his arms around you. Violent delights really do have violent ends and it’s not fair that you let it get this far without thinking about the consequences of your actions. None of this would’ve happened if you just let yourself love him- without fear, without judgment, without regret- and if you had just been honest with yourself all those years ago, this mess would’ve never spiraled so far out of your control.

Whatever repercussion await you, you’ll brave. Regardless of what happens next, you know that you have to tell him the truth- even if it kills you. The thought is often more daunting than the action itself, but as you turn yourself around in his arms so that you’re facing him, you’re petrified.

“I’m sorry,” The magnitude of your apology isn’t supported by the handful of letters that arrange themselves as they slip past your tongue. There has to be a better way to express your remorse, but if one exists it evades you. Over and over again, the same words come to mind and it’s not fair that you know exactly what you want to say, but you just can’t find the right words to absolve your shame. At your inability to voice your regret, frustration overwhelms you. Your lips part, ready to divulge your sins, but only a pathetic, meek sigh comes out. Why is this so difficult? You know the answer, and yet, you play the part of the fool- leaning on ignorance as a crutch for what you can’t bring yourself to brave. He deserves it, doesn’t he? The truth- not something partial, but whole. Transparency is the only piece left of a nearly complete puzzle, the only thing keeping this tragic tale of two lovers who break each other’s hearts only to stitch them back together again from reaching its inevitably doomed end. When your lip begins to tremble, Dick reaches for you, pulling you into his chest and embracing you in a hold that’s absolutely suffocating. You don’t deserve his kindness. You don’t deserve his love or affection- his tenderness or his forgiveness.

You don’t deserve him.

“Me too,” He sighs into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head before resting his head on top of yours. You can hear his heart- how steady it beats- and the sound rivals the racing of your own where it threatens to burst straight from your chest, and your eyes flutter shut, savoring the gentle lull of his own serenity before you poison his relief with your own disruption. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how difficult it may be, you know that you have to tell him. With a breath, you prepare for carnage.

“No, Dick, I-“

“Dick? Are you in here?” Barbara’s voice seeps through the wooden barrier that separates the two of you from the rest of the world- from reality- and as soon as she calls out to him, the illusion of tranquility is broken. Of course, it’s her. Of course, she’d be the one to interrupt you before you had the chance to speak, and of course, it would be her that drives a wedge further between the two of you with one simple revelation, “They’re getting away!”

It’s almost impossible to miss the sounds of commotion that follow her declaration. Faint screams and chaos replace the background of symphony strings and he turns to you then, a divot dividing the smooth skin of his forehead while his eyes narrow. Blue is black. Dark, and unmistakable. The muscle in his jaw looks like it’s about to burst with the severity of his clenching and his nostrils flare with a shallow exhale. It’s excruciating to watch him slip back into consciousness after being caught up in a dream, but a nightmare unfolds before you, twisting your stomach into knots so intricate they threaten to snap. You can’t breathe, and when you gather enough courage to finally take a step forward, he takes a step back. He’s never looked at you with so much hostility before, and you open your mouth to explain, to shower him with honesty and desperate pleas to make him understand that this wasn’t meant to happen like this, but no sound comes out. Not even a sigh. Not even a huff. Not even a pathetic, broken whimper. Nothing.

Unfortunately, Dick’s left to draw his own conclusions- to fill in the gaps in which your silence fails to atone for your crimes- and he paints a picture so drastically different from the truth, relying on his interpretation to establish a story so vivid he believes it to be real- even if it’s a figment of his own imagination, a product of his own devastation. Dispelled doubts come rushing back, and he allows them to influence the narrative- since you still can’t seem to find your voice- and everything left unsaid becomes louder in the silence. He mistakes your tears for guilt, instead of recognizing the regret and shame that mingle with saltwater. As gutted as he is, he looks to you for an explanation, but you can’t bring yourself to justify what you’ve done- even if it wasn’t your intention. Distracting him was part of the plan. Keeping him occupied was your mission, but confessing your true feelings and allowing yourself to fall back in love with him- not just the idea of what it would be like to love him- wasn’t part of your job description.

The second your paths crossed again, you were done for. It was never about seeking vengeance or getting even for the hurt that he caused you, because the minute that Dick waltzed back into your life, you knew you were doomed- because he makes you reckless. He makes you sloppy and distracted and forgiving. He makes you weak- and you let him. Every single time. Always and forever. Infinitely.

When he looks at you, he looks past you and towards your belongings on the counter. No. You shake your head, vehemently encouraging him to look away. If his eyes would just meet yours, if only for a second, you know you could save this. If not for the sake of putting broken pieces back together you could at least salvage fragments amongst the wreckage, but he doesn’t spare you a glance. No, no, no. His attention is solely on the expensive stone behind you, and when you reach out for him, your fingertips shaking as you grasp his bicep with all of the strength you can muster, he shakes you off of him.

Everything splinters.

When he reaches for your earring, you know that this is the end. It’s all over. A new moment will erase everything you thought you knew about pain, heartbreak, suffering, and betrayal. This moment, as it unfolds before you, will plague you until you meet your demise, because the second that he dares to bring the jewel up to his own ear, the exact moment that he hears Selina’s command through the gravely static of the earpiece you discarded earlier in the evening, you know that any hope for a future together vanishes- ripped straight from your fingers before you even had the chance to hold onto it and guard it with your life.

Even with his back towards you, you can see his face harden in the reflection of the mirror. Through the thin material of his crumbled dress shirt his shoulders tense and when he finally looks up to meet your stare through the glass, all traces of red, green, and yellow are gone. A piece of him- the piece of him that you’re most familiar with- dies, sprawled out and oozing across the marble. It’s too late to try to revive him. All that’s left in the wake of his slaughter is blue and black.

Blue and black, forevermore.

There’s nothing left for either of you here. Not anymore. Hope begins to decay, and the hollow hole in your chest that only he could ever fill begins to die from rot. Nothing will ever be the same. Not after this. Perhaps the final thought passed back and forth between a glare is the last thing you’ll ever share- beyond moments of destruction and beautiful chaos- but it’s clear to you both, that not all ghosts are meant to be resurrected.

Some ghosts should just stay ghosts.

a/n: hey, I’m raen and I’m down bad for this man lol…anyway, I’ve been working on this story for months. I literally poured bits and pieces of my soul into this (so if you wouldn’t mind interacting or providing feedback I’d be forever grateful) but I just wanted to write a tale of doomed lovers who care about each other in such a way that it leads to their downfall. I wanted this to hurt, and I hope it did- in the best way possible! I’m not above begging, so please, please, please feel free to send some feedback- as this is my first time writing for Dick and I would love to hear what people think! that being said, requests are also open! check out my request guidelines before submitting! and if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

everyone who requested to be tagged: @js-favnanadoongi @kalulakunundrum @1lellykins @octodog17 @novelizt @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @corgiqween576 @whiteglovemanor @godcreatoreli @lassmich1 @consternat1on @deffnotnia @haloney @iananiko @noodlesketchbook @thescarletcryptid @obsessedwthdilfs @vanice-e @taintedmaroon @holybatflapexpert @whatismypurpos @heylookwhoitis @corpseflower6 @heavenlym0chi @lokiwannacry @boywondergrayson @tetzoro @oiztsy @naf3211

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Send me some feedback, or request to be added to my taglist! (please specify which taglist you’d like to be added to- character or general) !Requests: OPEN!

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chaedomi · 8 months

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i'm currently thinking about men who are dangerous. i'm talking about men who are capable of instilling fear in the hearts of many with a simple mention of their name. men who are utterly vile and straight-up diabolical. men who have a terrifying reputation… where people are baffled when they see how soft and putty they become in the presence of their cute, sweet wife. (cw: yandere, implied violence) / mlist.

LANTE is known to be beyond merciless. It does not matter the age, gender, etc… once you are deemed unfit and unworthy of his time and effort, he will simply discard you like a piece of garbage without second thoughts. He claims to be foreign to the concept of love, but, as of now, he has morphed into a stuttering and sweaty mess under the presence of his wife, who stood in the background with her arms folded and a displeased pout plastered on her face. He very well knew how much she disapproved of his methods, and god, was it a sight to see such a powerful man’s visage crumble in seconds flat. He debates with himself, whether to usher you off and have you wait for him, or leave with you. However, he quickly chooses the second option when he catches the smallest teardrops at the corner of your eyes, rushing to your side. He is aware that your tears are fake. Damn, he couldn't bear it at all, wanting to get rid of your 'grief' whether it may be slow-dancing with you in the privacy of your room, or drowning you in riches. And with a lovestruck smile, an expression he has not given to anyone else, he left the dungeons beside you, leaving the formerly tortured prisoner dumbfounded and in awe.

Many tend to walk eggshells around DION as a result of his fearsome personality. They have heard of the gruesome things he does to his victims and without much effort too, as though it were some everyday activity to him. Dion was also known to be crueler and more sadistic than his father, so, it was even worse if he was already in a bad mood, where anything could set him off in the wrong manner. However, it was just beyond impossible for him to remain upset, especially when his wife would happily approach him, clinging onto him and squishing her cheek against his arm. Everyone saw it, how much Dion adored you. To him, you were this beautiful possession made for him, and him alone. Dion was mostly emotionless and indifferent. While his face doesn’t often display emotions, the rare sparkle of light in his eyes whenever he was around you was hard to miss. Gently caress his cheek, brush back his hair when he falls asleep in his chair, embrace him when he returns from a mission, do it all to him, he is a sucker for it, for you. People admit it’s sweet, even the enemies he made. But, as soon as the light dims in his eyes when he turns to glare at them, they are falling over as they try to run away…

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #romantic yandere #female reader #lante agriche x reader #dion agriche x reader #lante x reader #dion x reader

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daenysx · 1 month

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can we have one for the road for remus where he helps you relax after a long week? like the smut version of the one you did for sirius?? thank you!!

join the 1111 followers celebration

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy! ♡

remus lupin x fem!reader, smut

remus likes the way you seem to stop thinking when he's fucking you deep into the mattress.

your eyes roll back, shaky hands holding his neck gently as you open your legs and lead him deeper inside you. a slow teardrop falls on your cheek as remus moves, he keeps hitting your g-spot sweetly. he supports the backs of your thighs and rolls his hips again, until you cry out.

"please, please, remus." he likes how you sound when you're full of him.

you feel him kissing your cheek repeatedly, he sucks a bruise on your neck. remus sees the tears ready to fall on your cheeks, and he worries. your lips search for him, his scarred cheek and his bitten lips.

"you okay, lovely?" he stops kissing you for a minute.

you nod, tears don't stop but you feel perfect. you can't breathe, your brain is completely empty except the pleasure and fullness. remus gives you a smile when your hand cups his cheek, he kisses your hair and inhales the scent of your shampoo. his cock twitches inside you, the tension he feels is unbearable. he moves again, desperate for some relief. your nails scratch the back of his neck.

remus can feel his cock slide deeper easily. you are so wet for him, he moves his hips with pride. you have a smile on your pretty lips, your eyes are closed like you let yourself melt into him entirely. you never stop making noises, sweet whispers of begging reach his ears, they force him to continue until he makes a mess of himself.

"lovely girl." he whispers, presses a kiss on your ear. "you look so pretty, look at your little cunt. can you see baby? can you see how well you're taking me? such a good girl."

you see his cock sliding in and out. it makes you arch your back towards him, he supports your waist. "remus, please." you say, quietly.

"gonna come for me?" he asks. "is that what you're begging for?"

you nod, tears leaking slowly. "i just wanna stop thinking."

remus coos, his hand stroking your skin. "i'm gonna make you come until i become the only thing in that perfect mind of yours. i'm not gonna stop, did you hear that sweetness? gonna keep going until you tell me to stop."

he is a babbling mess on top of you as you finally come around him. you cry out, hands searching for him blindly. he holds you as he comes inside, filling you up until it leaks. it's so fucked up, he thinks. sheets are ruined and the mix of your liquids stains everywhere. funny thing is, he doesn't give a shit about that. he just loves the image of you relaxing under him.

remus kisses you, he forces himself to sit back on bed to pull you on his lap. you whine but he's quick to calm you down. he stays inside of you, keeping his cock deep to help you stay steady. you put your head on his shoulder when he places himself to lean back against the headboard. your breathing slowly turns back to normal as he rubs your back.

"okay, baby?" he asks gently.

you nod. "thank you, remus."

he kisses you as a response. "no need for that."

you force yourself to lift your head. your eyes look hazy, hair a lovely mess, and your cunt streched out around him. he tries to stay calm, feeling his softened cock twitch only a little when you clench around him unconciously.

"can we keep going?" you ask.

remus smiles. "of course we can. i just need a few more minutes, hmm?"

you nod, kissing his lips thank you again. he brings his fingers on your swollen clit. a gentle pinch makes your breathing go fast, he rubs the skin until he finally reaches your bud.

"oh-" you breath out, your head thrown back. "just like that."

remus gives you a fond smile as you moan under his fingers. he keeps you on his lap, rubs your clit until he has you clenching around his cock. he can feel himself getting hard after a few minutes, but he keeps himself from moving until he pulls another orgasm out of you.

he actually feels his mind blown when you come hard on top of him, cunt squeezing him deeply as you squirt. you lean onto his chest, your body is still shaking. remus kisses your hair to stay calm, you press your lips against his skin to even out your breathing.

"you're okay." he says. "you did so good for me."

he fucks you against the headboard after a while. you open your legs, desperate to forget your shitty week. he eats you out like he's been starved for years, fingers on your clit to make you come again. he turns you around for you to press your face into the soft pillows, fucks you deep once more until he can't feel his bones.

you are lying on top of his limp muscles when you finish. your brain feels like a mush, your body is tired but it's a good kind of exhaustion. it's nothing like what you've gone through for the past week. remus holds you close, pulling the covers on your bodies.

"settle down, lovely." he says. "everything is okay."

his voice is a huge comfort and he knows that. he waits for his senses to come back to normal, after that he cleans up both of you. he helps you wear clean clothes to bed and holds you in his lap like a baby when you sleep. he rewards himself with a cigarette with the window next to bed open, his one hand occupied with it while his other hand rubs your back.

#1111 followers celebration #follower milestone #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus x fem!reader #remus x you #remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfic #marauders #marauders fic #marauders imagine #marauders smut #marauders fanfic #marauders era

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months

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♡ chronicle #4 : welcome back ♡

wc : 5338

somehow, you've gotten used to living without your dragon man.

it shouldn't have been that hard to began with, you reason. since you'd only been living with him for a couple of weeks. you'd spent your whole life without this rude, bratty, infuriatingly handsome dragon guy. it really shouldn't have been hard.

you wake up to get ready for work feeling more tired than usual. this had been the case for the last two weeks now. you're lost at work, you've been really close to coming late more than once. you're coworker sachi has also asked if you were sick at least 5 times in one week, so you assume you don't exactly look your best right now.

you grab some leftovers from the fridge, hastily throwing them in the microwave to check up on your coffee. when you're done eating with the only background noise being the tv playing some game show reruns, you put your plate in the sink and remember a little too late that no one's there to clean them up for you anymore. you feel stupid, staring at the dishes like they'll suddenly wash themselves.

you'll wash them when you get back.

work goes by in a blur. you hardly remember what you did, who you'd talked to or what you had for lunch. the trip back home feels unfamiliar, like someone else was controlling your body for you. you don't mind as long as you can go home and sleep.

when you walk through your door, you check your couch reflexively, even though you've reminded yourself multiple times no one would be waiting there for you. the tv's turned off like it was when you'd left, there's nothing cooking on the stove, and there's no one on your couch.

despite reminding yourself.

you really need some sleep.

you order take out and eat while watching your favorite show for the 5000th time. it feels boring instead of comforting like it usually is, so you end up skipping a bunch of episodes straight to your favorite.

sometimes, you feel like it was all one big dream. falling in love with a dragon only for him to leave you seemed like something you could really only see in your own fantasy. but you know it isn't, because if it were you'd be able to forget about it. about him. but you can't.

it isn't painful, it doesn't feel like your heart is about to burst. it just feels so lonely. you feel like a part of you is missing, like a piece of your heart was filled to the brim with warmth only for that part to be taken away from you and leaving you cold and hollow. you don't like feeling like this. you shouldn't feel like this over someone you'd technically just met.

but it wasn't like that with him, it didn't feel like you'd just met. despite only living with him for a few weeks, you felt like you'd known him all your life. it was like you were catching up with an old friend the more you spoke to him. everything in you felt good with him. everything felt so right with him.

before you know it there are tears clouding your vision, you will yourself not to let them overflow. you hadn't cried since the day he left, you'd been distracting yourself with work not to. your favorite part of the episode comes up yet all you can do is focus on not bursting into tears. you can't go to bed feeling like shit since you've got work tomorrow. you decide to head to bed early tonight.

you'd like to think you can fool yourself into believing you've gotten used to living without katsuki. but unfortunately, you have to admit you aren't that good at lying to yourself when the first teardrop hits your pillow.

katsuki feels incredibly wrong.

it's way past the time he's usually asleep, but despite tossing and turning he can't keep his eyes shut because every time he does he sees you.

you, with your stupid bright smile. you with your stupid puffed out cheeks and pout when you'd caught him nabbing your food too late. you with your bright eyes when you come back from work to see he's made your favorite.

and you, with your glossy wet eyes when he told you he was leaving.

he really needs some fuckin' sleep.

for the last two weeks, he's been telling himself that this was better for you—for you both. he knows he could never truly be good for you. no matter how well he'd learn to cook your favorite meal. no matter how many movies and tv shows you watch together. no matter how good it feels to be with you, you'll always be a human and he, a dragon.

you're different beings made for different lives. he wasn't raised for battle, but it is a primary part of the dragon code, especially in his faction. survival of the fittest and whatnot. you were made for office jobs and midnight take out and romance movies, not for anything he was.

his friends were more than happy to see he'd finally come back home. they had basically choke-slammed him to the ground to hug him, and he can't deny he felt really a little bit happy to see them again.

he'd expected his mom to nag his ear off like she usually does but he was more than shocked to feel her wrap her arms around him tightly. she had told him she was happy to see he hadn't caused any trouble for himself and he could hear the quiver in her voice and feel the slight shakiness in her tightly strung limbs. he hadn't said anything and simply quietly held her back. his father had joined the group hug soon after and katsuki closed his eyes, indulging in the warmth of his parents' love.

this is good. this feels nice. this is where he's supposed to be.

it felt nice at the time, he recalls. but it didn't feel right.

for the last two weeks, he's been trying to tell himself that despite how much he aches, how much he yearns for you, you aren't made for him.

unfortunately, besides admitedly being a horrible liar, katsuki will forever be a selfish dragon. he only focuses on what he wants, and he wants you more than anything. he needs you more than anything.

" fuck this.." he mutters, throwing and arm over his eyes. he starts absentmindedly rubbing at his hair, like you used to. but it doesn't feel as comforting, so he huffs again.

he'd been told he unfortunately couldn't do anything about the tournament, but on a better note the guy he faced off again would be disqualified from participating since he did end up getting something from a witch, like katsuki thought. kirishima had wrapped an arm around his shoulder and told him it was a good thing. but to be honest, katsuki had almost fully forgotten about that shitty tournament. his father told him there would always be a next one. the next one in ten years. the thought of not seeing you in that time crosses his mind at makes him feel like he swallowed something sour. there's a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought but he can do nothing but try to ignore it.

just as he's about to turn to the other side of his bed when a knock his door startles him. his mom walks in shortly after, opening the door halfway before walking in when she sees him awake.

" i didn't say you could come in." he grumbles half heartedly, sleep riddled voice slightly groggy. mitsuki simply sits on his bed near him, patting at his leg over the covers.

"m'not allowed to check up on my runaway son ? don't want you to leave again." she jests. katsuki knows she's joking, but he still feels a pang of guilt in his chest. he grumbles something unintelligible in response.

no words are exchanged for a moment, then mitsuki pats her son's leg a little harder, he snarls at her but she simply smiles at him.

"what do you say we go get some air ?"

the night air feels good.

soaring through the sky feels comforting. feeling the way the wind rushes through his scales feels almost therapeutic to him. it can be thrilling to soar through the air the same way it can also be calming. it provides him serenity he can't quite put into words.

katsuki finds himself wishing he could fly like this with you like when he brought you back home from work. he remembers how you'd screamed your lungs out, clutched onto him so tightly and when you'd landed back home with wobbly legs and messy..everything, you'd proclaimed it was the first and last time you'd ever go for a dragon ride. he remembers how hard he laughed and he chuffs to himself unconsciously at the memory.

flying around when he was irritated or stressed wasn't uncommon for him but he only remembers a handful of times he'd went flying with his mother. other than the times he was younger and still learning how to get the hang of it. he has to admit that that feels good, too.

they decide to rest on a nearby mountain they saw in the horizon. as soon as they land katsuki changes back into his human form, stretching as he let's out a yawn. the only remaining traces of his dragon form being his red horns and scaley tail accompanied by large red wings. he hears his mom flap her wings behind him as she also let's out a little yawn of her own. she sits down onto the gravely bottom and katsuki raises a brow before taking a spot next to her.

it's quiet as they both silently stare at the moon. it's a little chilly out but katsuki doesn't mind much.

"so," mitsuki sighs, taking a large gulp of the fresh air " you gonna tell me what happened when you went on your little expedition?" she bumps her shoulder with his playfully, katsuki growls but doesn't snap back like he usually would.

he simply shrugs "it wasn't an expedition." he gulps, it feels like a knot grows in his throat. "it wasn't anything." he doesn't notice the way his hands are tightened into fists, but his mother does.

"that so ?" she utters. she speaks in a nurturing way. that soft tone that only a mother could use for her child. it upset him even more as the knot in his throat tightens.

"i.." katsuki starts "i was around a lot of humans.." he admits. his mother hums in response, urging him to continue. "saw a lot of things, tried a lot of human stuff."

"human stuff ?"

"human foods and desserts and stuff. and movies. they're people moving around acting inside a big box that they call a tv." he tries his best to explain it in the simplest way considering it took him a while to grasp the concept of electronics himself. he can tell his mother doesn't really understand, but he's thankful she simply nods and let's him continue.

"it wasn't too bad." he concedes. " i didn't wanna kill too many of them." he jokes, his mother chuckles in response.

"anything else happen ?" she asks with a smile. katsuki can already tell shes's onto him. screw this mother's intuition shit.

he opens and closes his mouth a few times, nothing he wants to say seems to come out right.

"ma.." he starts, she hums " when you--how did it feel for you when you fell in love with pops ?"

her eyes widen at his question. she sits and thinks about it for a minute, then a smile grows on her face. " it's not something i can really explain. i just knew it when i saw him, i knew he was meant to be mine."

"even though he's a human..?" he mumbles quietly. his mother doesn't seem fazed, her dazed smile remains.

"yeah." she answers simply.

"it didn't bother you ?"

"nope." she immediatly answers, popping the p.

"it wasn't weird ?"

" it took a little gettin' used to." she hums "we're completely different after all. his family wasn't exactly on board with it. but they didn't say anythin' when i showed 'em my dragon form, i think they were just really amazed." she laughs at her own joke and katsuki fights an eyeroll.

"how'd you do it then ? how'd you..get used to it ?" he asks almost urgently.

her smile hasn't faltered since the beginning of the conversation. it seems to have gotten even wider and even brighter. " i didn't do anything. i loved your father, i still do." she sighs dreamily " when i was around him i didn't worry about anything. i didn't worry about what others thought to begin with, but i didn't worry about that. i wasn't scared of the future or anything."

"there was nothing for me to be worried about when i was around him. it always just felt like things would work out. we made each other happy, and when i was around him it all felt so.." she can't seem to find the right word to use but katsuki finds one for her immediatly.

"right ?" he finishes.

"yeah" she smiles, eyes softening as she looks at her son "yeah, it felt really right."

for the last two weeks, katsuki's been trying to deceive himself. by now he knows it isn't working. at all. he'd been trying to keep his mind quiet. he's been spending time with his friends and it's been nice. but there's clearly something missing. something he knows that his parents or his friends can fill, despite them caring so much for him. and he feels bad because he cares, he really does. but there's something he needs.

you're the one he needs.

"i think.." katsuki jumps a little when his mom speaks up again "i think there's somewhere you need to be, isn't there ?" she asks, though that knowing look she gives him clearly says she already knows the answer.

katsuki bites his lip, looking down towards the ground below. he can't see the bottom.

"i'm scared, ma.." he admits, meekly. mitsuki's heart squeezes at her little boy's heart showing in his eyes, scared of the unknown despite trying his best to convince himself he isn't.

his mother places her hand ontop of his and squeezes " i know, i know you are.." she comforts.

"w-what if it's too late and i messed shit up ?" she shakes her head, shushing him.

"you didn't, i know you didn't." she speaks carefully "if that person is the right one for you, then there's absolutely no way you have." she pulls him into a hug and he hugs her back tightly. no more words are exchanged as katsuki and his mother sit there. she pulls away and presses her forehead to his.

"you get goin' now, okay ?" she feels him nod after a moment and her smiles grows wider. she ruffles her son's hair and he grumbles, pushing at her arm and he fights off a smile.

he's sure, he knows what he needs to do now.

he gets up with vigor and stretches out his limbs and his wings as they flex and expand on his back. before he takes off though, he hears his mom call for him. he turns to look at her proud smiling face.

"you'd better come and visit !" she grinned, sharp fangs on display. katsuki smiles back at that, sharp grin rivaling hers.

" obviously !" he affirms, before taking off.

you wake up like you'd had the best sleep in your life. probably because you cried yourself to sleep.

you're awake an hour earlier than you usually are and you can't seem to get back to sleep. so bitterly, you decide to just get up and start your day an hour early.

you're definitely not getting ready for work at this hour, so your hello- kitty jammies are staying on. you remember you have a half eaten tub of vanilla-caramel-brownie ice cream in the freezer and it makes you a little happier. you walk over to your fridge with a little skip in your step.

when you sit down on your couch and turn your tv on you can already see the sun rising from your balcony. and it makes you dread having to go to work in an hour and a few minutes, you do your best to ignore it and watch a rerun of some old drama tv show you found.

you take your first bite and hum to yourself happily. the ice cream melts on your tongue and the flavours burst onto your tastes buds. if you could you'd eat ice cream every single day.

but katsuki would scold you for it.

it feels a little harder to swallow down your next bite.

the female and male lead on the show are arguing about something. the man says he only has eyes for the lady. he says that it's always been her, that if he were reborn in another life, in another country, he would still always find his way back to her.

you quietly keep watching, taking smaller and smaller scoops of ice cream. the lady is doubtful, she asks the male how she knows he won't break her heart. he responds that she only needs to trust him, that she needs trust herself.

"what is your heart telling you right now ?" he asks.

"it's telling me.." there's a dramatic pause " that i love you..!" she declares.

the two share a hug and an old ending song plays, you can hear an audience clapping like you sometimes do in old sitcoms. you really wish you could go back to sleep when you check your phone and see that only twenty minutes have passed. you wonder if you can call in sick as you play around with your ice cream, but you draw the line at that. that'd be too childish and you're too grown to be faking sick just because you got your heart broken.

you switch through a couple of channels before you land on an animal documentary. it's about red panda's and red panda's are adorable, so you shuffle on your couch to get comfortable and scoop up another big bite of ice cream.

the moment you bring your spoon to your lips though, you suddenly feel a big gust of wind. accompanied by a loud crash. and a giant hole through your fucking wall.

your spoon stays frozen against your lips, it's cold but you can barely feel it. slowly, you turn to look at something coming out of the cloud of smoke caused by the debris.

or no, it's a someone. you can see them stand up straighter as huge wings stretch on their back along with huge pointy horns and—actually maybe it is a something after all.

except you squint and you realise that it isn't a something.

it's katsuki.

it's katsuki and he's looking at you, bright red eyes focused solely on yours. he's here, he's here with you.

and he's once again blasted a hole through your wall.

you almost want to laugh, but you're afraid if you do you'll start crying. so you simply stare at him. he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth

“hi..” he exhales.

he’s heaving, taking in the force at which your wall was blasted into pieces one could assume it was probably because he was flying really fast, and he was. but this wasn’t really going all out for him. frankly, katsuki bakugou is heaving because he’s so incredibly nervous.

“h-hi..” you utter back, wide eyed. katsuki zones in on something on your face and furrows his brows.

“you’re eating that cold shit that early in the morning ? you’ll get sick.” he chides. this time you do laugh, because he’s so insanely ridiculous, how could you not.

“yeah well, no one was here to stop me so..” he knows the other meaning to your joke very well and his heart hurts at the sadness in your eyes when you fully realize he’s actually here.

“why did you—i thought you had to go home ?” you stutter. he takes a hesitant step towards your couch, towards you. his hand twitches, wanting to reach out to you, to touch you, but he holds back for now.

“yeah i did.” he nods “so here i am.”

your heart feels like it’s beating while being held down under a huge weight. you want to do so many things. you want to cry, ask him so many questions and kiss his mouth off but you can only bring yourself to ask “why ?”

katsuki frowns at the way your bottom lip wobbles and he immediately decides he can’t have that. he walks up to you and grabs your hand to pull you towards him, you stand up with a squeal as he pulls you into him. you’re ice cream long forgotten as neither of you notice the tub hitting the floor.

right now you’re only focused on him and he on you.

“i-i tried to tell myself that i didn’t need you at first, that it was better if i didn’t. we both know we’re—more than completely different,” he chuckles humorlessly. “tried telling myself that i didn’t need you because i didn’t need you my entire life, so why should meeting you, a human, change anything ?”

"but then—i don’t know, i realized that i’d spent so much time with you and your normal human life. with your weird habits and routines and your cheesy animal love stories. and then suddenly i just—" he stops himself mid rambling, he’s still heaving and he can’t seem to calm down. until you reach up and place your hand in his hair.

in seconds it’s feels like he can breathe again. your hands in his hair feel like taking a flight in the dead of night. your entire being is like the way it feels when the wind rushes through his scales.

he needs you, he needs you, he needs you, he needs you and he needs you so bad.

he plops his head against your shoulder and you hear the purring sound from when you’d first pet him in your office building. when you didn’t really know why you did, and that it just felt right to.

“suddenly i realized that i couldn’t be without you. i couldn’t see myself without you and your stupid smug face whenever you’re being a smart ass. without you and your weird taste in movies and your hands in my hair and your smile and—" he cuts himself off again. seemingly realizing he’d said too much. you don’t want to embarrass him too much too soon so you hold back the giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“i thought you liked my taste in movies.” you joke, playing with the hair on his nape. you feel him huff a chuckle against your shoulder.

“never said i didn’t like it. said it’s weird.”

“is there really a difference?” you snort.

“hell yeah there is,” he retorts “ya go from watchin’ that weird demon cat on your phone to watching the conjuring in the same breath.”

“ that just means i'm open to a lot of genres, it’s a good thing !” he snorts then grumbles some kind of agreement under his breath “and don’t you insult hello kitty like that ! she’s done nothing to be classified as a ‘demon cat’.”

“ it’s fuckin’ weird. why doesn’t it have a mouth ? and why are it’s black beady eyes starin’ into my fuckin’ soul ?”

“ quit calling her 'it' ? and she’s adorable !”

“she’s freaky is what she is.” you groan.

"you're insufferable. so incredibly annoying." you grumble in defeat. he lifts his head up to look at you then, his award winning cheese on display with a tiny fang poking out.

"yeah, maybe..but you missed me." he counters. you huff, but you really can't lie "yeah, yeah i did" you say. it comes out sadder than you'd wanted it to, and he seems to notice it. his eyebrows furrow and the remorseful look on his face makes your heart burn. your expression mirrors his as you speak.

"i really did miss you, katsuki. i really did." you whisper sorrowfully. you feel him wipe the tears you didn't even know where about to spill from the corner of your eyes. he grabs your cheeks in both of his large hands and wipes at your eyes, then rubs at your cheeks softly. his eyes burn with unspoken words and feelings and you don't need to hear him say anything to understand. you understand him better than anyone. human or dragon.

and that's all you need.

"i know." he leans in until you're inches away and your eyes flutter closed when he nuzzles his nose against your tenderly. he places his forehead against yours in a way you can only describe as loving. "i know." he whispers again.

"but i won't leave again. i promise." he vows, rubbing his nose against your cheek. the gesture feels very animal like and you giggle a little. he huffs against your cheek in amusement. "you're mine, you've always been. i know that—i'm sure of it now." he corrects "so i'm not goin' anywhere." he's so close. just like that night.

you want to let go, want to give yourself to him and trust him but there's something holding you back. katsuki can tell you're doubtful. he nudges his head against your softly, "talk to me." he urges.

"i just..i'm scared.." you admit "what if things don't work out ? i really, really like you katsuki." your voice trembles and your bottom lip wobbles the slightest bit "i don't want you to go away again.." he shakes his head adamntly, his hair tickles against your forehead. he breathes a sigh and pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes properly.

"i don't know how the future will turn out, or what's gonna happen." he knocks his forehead against yours again "but that doesn't scare me. mostly cus i'm not scared of anything," you roll your eyes but you can't help the chuckle that rips out of you. he smiles, obviously proud of his joke.

"but also because i know you're it for me. no matter what happens, i trust that i'll always come back to you." he seems to realize he's been awfully out of character. a cute blush grows on his face but that doesn't deter him in the slightest, as his eyes stay fixed on you. it makes chills run down your spine.

"you..were made for me. that's all i need." he closes his eyes, embarrasment catching up to him. you smile at how adorable your cranky dragon man could be when he wanted to be.

that's all he needs. you're all he needs. the thought fills your body with so much warmth and love.

you bring your hands up to his cheeks. he opens his eyes. looking down at you with half lidded eyes and so much affection it makes you giddy.

"what is your heart telling you right now ?"

you smile up at him, a watery giggle slips past your lips.

" i love you."

you trust yourself. you trust katsuki. you trust your love for him.

his eyes widen. and suddenly he's leaning down and all he gives you as a warning is a breathy whisper of your name. you don't think twice when you nod your head fervently and then he's closing the distance and kissing you.

in a second it's like you feel whole. it's like he breathes life into you with the kiss he presses onto your lips. and the next one, and the one after that.

he pulls back to catch his breath for no less than three seconds before he's stealing yours away again. but you don't mind in the slightest. you'd give all of yourself up willingly to him. you wish you could stay close with him, holding onto him like this forever.

but then there's a sudden sharp pain in your lip.

"ouch !" you yelp. katsuki immediatly pulls back, eyes racking over your face until he notices red on your lip. you lick at your bottom lip and taste blood. you look up at him, a mix of amusement and suprise on your features. after a second, you let out a chuckle.

"guess you missed me lots, huh ?" you laugh some more when he growls at you. trying his best to seem somewhat intimidating despite the state he's in. he's breathing heavy and he's sweating a little bit, cheeks fully red.

"b-be quiet, human." he leans down and licks the blood off your lip. it flusters you despite him meaning it innocently, dragons are way more direct when it comes to physical affection, it seemed. "i'll roast you alive."

"no you won't, liar." you answer arrogantly. you bring your arms to rest around his neck, your hands play around with the hair on his nape. "you like me too much."

"you're gettin' real cocky, aren't ya ?"

"am i wrong ?" you counter. he narrows his eyes at your challenge but lowers his head in defeat soon after. he shakes his head with a chuckle. "no, guess you're not." he concedes.

"you guess ?" you tease.

"don't push your luck, loser." he nips at your nose, and you giggle. he snarls at you when you tug at his horn, but he can't hide the smile on his face.

"i—uh." he looks away, off to the side towards your tv "love. you. too..or whatever you humans say.." he confesses shyly. too much direct eye contact for one day, it seems. you giggle, then lean in and press a sweet kiss to his lips. it takes him a second before he eases into it. slowly, just as passionately as the first time, but you both know there's no rush to let each other know how you feel. you've got all the time in the world together.

"i'm glad.." you say once you pull away. "so, can i assume that means you're back now?" you joke.

"i told you i'm not goin' nowhere. you're mine." he asserts " i'm back." he states with a fanged grin.

you smile wider at his words. you're smiling so hard your cheeks start to hurt but you really don't mind "welcome back." you answer lovingly.

this feels right. this feels like where you both belong. he's back.

back where he belongs.

you pat his nape "to make yourself back at home, you can make me breakfast !" you chirp. "you owe me at least twenty five homemade dinners too, so you'd better get to work." you laugh out loud when he pokes at your side with one hand, with the one on your face squeezing your cheeks out.

"cheeky brat, already puttin' me to work, hah ?!" he grins "i guess i do owe you dinner though, but definetly not fuckin' twenty five of 'em !" you both laugh at each other some more and you wish all of your days with him here could feel like this. but even if they don't, you're not worried. as long as you're together, you know everything will be okay. you trust that with all your heart.

"katsuki ?" you start after a moment. he hums in response, urging you to continue while he nibbles and presses smooches on your shoulder. you smile, you're so incredibly happy.

"fix up my damn wall, would you ?"

and here it is yall, the final chapter ! thank you all sooooo much for the overwhelming amount of love for this silly lil series. i couldn't be happier that you guys liked this fic just as much as i did writing it ! and i hope this ending makes yall happy (cuz some of yall were losin it last chap LOLOLOL) take this super fluffy ending as an apology for that then !! much luvv <333

taglist ! : @sikuthealien @rosemarygalaxy @guccirosegold @queenpiranhadon @k0z3me @katsuisbaby @lovra974 @katsus-mistress @briokayama @sixxze @lupikekee @nymphsdomain @berryvioo @roboticsuccubus83 @yao-ai @haruesme @omayrac @raatass @touyasprettydoll

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thelasttime · 1 year

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surprise songs - eras tour

3/17 - glendale, arizona : “mirrorball” and “tim mcgraw”

3/18 - glendale, arizona: “this is me trying” and “state of grace”

3/24 - las vegas, nevada: “our song” and “snow on the beach”

3/25 - las vegas, nevada: “cowboy like me” and “white horse”

3/31 - arlington, texas: “sad beautiful tragic” and “ours”

4/1 - arlington, texas: “death by a thousand cuts” and “clean”

4/2 - arlington, texas: “jump then fall” and “the lucky one”

4/13 - tampa, florida: “speak now” and “treacherous”

4/14 - tampa, florida: “the great war” and “you’re on your own kid”

4/15 - tampa, florida: “mad woman” and “mean”

4/21 - houston, texas: “wonderland” and “you’re not sorry”

4/22 - houston, texas: “a place in this world” and “today was a fairytale”

4/23 - houston, texas: “begin again” and “cold as you”

4/28 - atlanta, georgia: “the other side of the door” and “coney island”

4/29 - atlanta, georgia: “high infidelity” and “gorgeous”

4/30 - atlanta, georgia: “i bet you think about me” and “how you get the girl”

5/5 - nashville, tennessee: “sparks fly” and “teardrops on my guitar”

5/6 - nashville, tennessee: “out of the woods” and “fifteen”

5/7 - nashville, tennessee: “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” and “mine”

5/12 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “gold rush” and “come back…be here”

5/13 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “forever & always” and “this love”

5/14 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “hey stephen” and “the best day”

5/19 - foxborough, massachusetts: “should’ve said no” and “better man”

5/20 - foxborough, massachusetts: “…question?” and “invisible”

5/21 - foxborough, massachusetts: “i think he knows” and “red”

5/26 - east rutherford, new jersey: "getaway car" and "maroon"

5/27 - east rutherford, new jersey: “holy ground” and “false god”

5/28 - east rutherford, new jersey: "welcome to new york" and "clean"

6/2 - chicago, illinois: "i wish you would" and "the lakes"

6/3 - chicago, illinois: "you all over me" and "i don't wanna live forever"

6/4 - chicago, illinois: “hits different” and “the moment i knew”

6/9 - detroit, michigan: "haunted" and "i almost do"

6/10 - detroit, michigan: "all you had to do was stay" and "breathe"

6/16 - pittsburgh, pennsylvania: "mr. perfectly fine" and "the last time"

6/17 - pittsburgh, pennsylvania: "seven" and "the story of us"

6/23 - minneapolis, minnesota: “paper rings” and “if this was a movie”

6/24 - minneapolis, minnesota: “dear john” and “daylight”

6/30 - cincinnati, ohio: "i'm only me when i'm with you" and "evermore"

7/1 - cincinnati, ohio: “ivy,” “i miss you, i’m sorry,” and “call it what you want”

7/7 - kansas city, missouri: “never grow up” and “when emma falls in love”

7/8 - kansas city, missouri: “last kiss” and “dorothea”

7/14 - denver, colorado: “picture to burn” and “timeless”

7/15 - denver, colorado: “starlight” and “back to december”

7/22 - seattle, washington: “this is why we can’t have nice things” and “everything has changed”

7/23 - seattle, washington: "tied together with a smile" and "message in a bottle"

7/28 - santa clara, california: “right where you left me” and “castles crumbling”

7/29 - santa clara, california: “stay stay stay” and “all of the girls you loved before”

8/3 - los angeles, california: "i can see you" and "maroon"

8/4 - los angeles, california: "our song" and "you are in love"

8/5 - los angeles, california: “death by a thousand cuts” and “you’re on your own kid”

8/6 - los angeles, california: "i know places" and "king of my heart"

8/7 - los angeles, california: "new romantics" and "new year's day"

8/24 - mexico city, mexico: "i forgot that you existed" and "sweet nothing"

8/25 - mexico city, mexico: "tell me why" and "snow on the beach"

#.txt #ok it's more aesthetic like this #eras tour surprise songs #surprise songs slaylist

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talesofely · 4 months

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Save My Tears (2)

A Sequel (Part 2) to The (Wo)Man Who Can't Be Moved. (Part 1)

Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary : Natasha's your ex-girlfriend, she broke up with you without giving you a solid reason as to why. Obviously, you want her back. One problem, she's unofficially dating Bucky Barnes. So you decided to solve it with a little performance.

Warnings : Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending (or is it?😏), swearing, one line used 'her' as reader's pronouns, pls tell me if u see anything else

Word Count : 2.1k

Note : here's pt2 ! pls let my family go now :c

Natasha.

Natasha didn't want to attend tonight's party. 'Cause the last party she went to was with you. The last party she went to, she was clinging onto your arm. The last party she went to, she slept in your arms.

Unlike you, who always asked if you could be her date for the night, Bucky asked her to be his date for tonight. Normally Natasha wouldn't notice those miniscule things, but it was just so different from you.

Unlike you, who always insisted on picking her up from her room, Bucky just waited for her at the elevator.

Bucky brought her a bouquet of roses when they met at the elevator! You never bought her a bouquet of real roses... cause you always gave her paper ones, ones you knew she would appreciate more since they don't wither.

Bucky asked how he looked and said that Natasha looked perfect to be his date. You always told her she looked amazing, and joked about not looking good enough to be her date.

Bucky bought her a drink and a stronger drink for himself, like a gentleman. You always got the lesser alcoholic ones since you wanted to stay sober enough to take care of her in case she gets drunk.

She hated comparing him to you. But she couldn't help it. His arms just don't compare to yours.

She shook her head to clear away any thoughts about you, wanting to focus on her night with Bucky. She subconsciously searched the crowds for you, but she couldn't find that y/h/c hair that she could always find in the midst of the crowds.

Bucky asked her to dance. They stood in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Everyone's eyes were on them, she didn't like it. You always knew she felt uncomfortable being the center of attention. Bucky seemed to like it, though.

She saw how Bucky signaled Steve to sing. Mouthing a song title she wasn't able to read. Steve seemed skeptical at first, but the questioning look from Bucky caused him to concede and sing the song.

When 'Wonderful Tonight' started playing, Natasha's eyes winded. It was your song. The song you always sang to her. The song you two danced together. She's dancing it again, just not with you.

She tried her best to smile, and tried her best to not imagine you as she danced with Bucky.

She remembered how you used to sing the song in her ear as you two slowly danced around the kitchen, at 2am, using the refrigerator light as light, whenever she had nightmares.

"Oh, my darling, you were wonderful tonight" You—Bucky—whispered in her ear as the song came to an end. You—Bucky—kissed her forehead as you two pulled away.

She was going to excuse herself to the bathroom to clear out her thoughts when the next singer caught her attention.

It was you.

I saw you dancing in a crowded room

You look so happy when I'm not with you

You looked so breathtaking, she thought. Oh how she would've loved to arrive and leave with her in your arms. But she couldn't. She was in Bucky's arms.

"Hey, everyone. I hope y'all are having an amazing night. I do hope you enjoy these songs I'm about to play." You said as you clicked the instrumental version of the song you chose, on the tablet.

She couldn't deny how much she missed your voice. How much she longs to hear that voice say those 8 letters she used to hear everyday from you.

But then you saw me, caught you by surprise

A single teardrop falling from your eye

When your eyes met, she didn't know what to feel. She didn't know whether to feel happy, to feel sad, to feel hurt, or to feel angry that she let you go.

That bittersweet smile you gave her, hurt her in ways she didn't even know was possible. She got shot before, she got stabbed, she got punched and kicked multiple times before, but this type of pain is something she's never experienced before.

She wanted to run up to the stage and beg for your forgiveness while hugging you tightly when she saw the single tear falling from your eye.

I don't know why I run away

I made you cry when I run away

She left before the song ended. She ran away, again. She ran to the rooftop. The place where you two always ran together to.

She didn't even notice Bucky following her.

Wanda Immediately approached you when you got off stage. She pulled you into a hug before pointing at the stairway up to the rooftop.

"She's up there. Go follow her, please. Bucky followed her, I'm worried it might not end well for Bucky." She said with a wince, remembering the last time someone tried to approach Natasha while she had so many emotions running.

You bit your lower lip, your hesitation was strong. But the worried look from Wanda was enough to make you run up.

"Leave me alone for a minute, Buck." You heard Natasha say, trying to control her emotions. Her hands are gripping the rails so tightly, her knuckles were turning white.

"What's wrong Tash?" The nickname he used wasn't helping. You used to call her that all the time.

"Please, Bucky, just 5 minutes. Please." She pleaded, you noticed her grip was getting tighter.

"Just tell me what's wrong, Natasha!" He raised his voice. Something you never did in all your years you two dated.

"For fuck's sake I still love her! I still fucking love Y/N so much, that it actually hurts! Is that what you wanted to hear?!" Natasha finally screamed back, turning to face Bucky directly. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Я так скучаю по ней, Bucky, which is stupid cause I was the one who broke her heart. So I have no right to act like it hurts me more, but it still hurts so much." She murmured, not even caring that she was crying in front of Bucky. (translation : I miss her so much.)

"What?" Bucky couldn't believe it. He thought they were both in love, he was even going to ask her to be his girlfriend officially tonight. "Leave, please." Natasha forced herself to calm down, glaring at Bucky as he shamefully walked towards the stairwell where you were.

When Bucky saw you, he tried his best to give you a genuine smile. "Her heart's still yours. Don't lose it." He said as he gave your shoulder a pat and walked away.

You took a deep breath before approaching Natasha.

"Tasha." Just one word from you was enough to gain Natasha's attention. She turned around in surprise, wiping her tears hastily.

"Y/N? What're you doing here?" She tried her best to act calm, using all her spy skills to act collected in front of you. But you both know that you could see right through it.

"Was it true, Natasha? You told Bucky you still love me. Were you telling the truth?" You asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her. You leaned your back against the railings beside her, she had her arms leaning against it as she looked at the busy streets below.

"What are you going to do if I said yes?" She answered your question with her own question. You just shrugged, staring up into the stars.

You felt her shiver when a particularly strong wind blew past you. Instinctively, you gave her your jacket.

You could've asked me why I broke your heart

You could've told me that you fell apart

"Why aren't you asking me why I left? Why I ran away? Why aren't you screaming at me? Why aren't you mad at me?" She said after you placed your jacket on her shoulders. She was frustrated at herself for ending things with you. She was also frustrated as to why you weren't hating her like she thinks she deserves.

"What's the point of getting mad? Being mad at you won't get you back, it won't help me understand why you left either." She hated how understanding you were. It made her guilt grow bigger with every word you say.

"I really want to ask something though," She looked at you expectantly, thinking of possible questions you could ask. "Why'd you run away?" You felt her breath hitch when you finally let those words leave your tongue. You were also nervous yourself, not knowing what to expect from your ex-girlfriend.

"I was scared." She took a deep breath before continuing, "You're just too perfect. We were so perfect that it terrified me. Nothing stays that good that long. Everything had consequences. Maybe the consequence for me was that you moved on so quickly."

But you walked past me like I wasn't there

And just pretended like you didn't care

Your brows furrowed. 'You moved on too quickly'?

"But I haven't moved on, Nat. What gave you the idea that I already did?"

"You just walk past me everyday at the compound ever since you returned. I thought you didn't care about it anymore." She finally looked at you, both your eyes meeting like they were always destined to meet.

"'Cause I didn't want to hold you back, Natasha. I thought it'd help us both move on if we acted like nothing happened. I guess it didn't, I'm sorry." You were always so nice. Natasha hated it. She hated the fact that she feels like she's abusing your kindness and that she couldn't do anything about it.

Take me back 'cause I wanna stay

Save your tears for another

"Does that mean you still love me?" Natasha hesitantly asked, biting her lower lip.

"Of course, Tash." You said with a small sad smile. A smile immediately made itsm's way to her face. But when she saw your smile, her's faltered and her brows furrowed.

"I'm assuming there's a 'but' to that sentence?"

You nodded slowly, giving her a smile that made her worries grow.

"I never stopped loving you, Tasha, just... not in the same way as before." Natasha felt her heart drop. No matter how much she tried to stop the tears from falling, she couldn't stop them when she heard those words from you.

"What do you mean, Y/N?"

Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine

And now you won't love me for a second time

You bit your lower lip, trying to find the right words to explain it properly to her.

"I still love you, but you hurt me, Tasha. I understand you got scared, but if you really loved me you would've told me. You should've explained your feelings and worries to me. We could've gotten through that together." You hated seeing her cry, more so being the reason she's crying. But you needed to tell her this, you both needed it to move on.

"I'm sorry. Does that mean we— you don't want me back anymore?" She asked in a voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

I realize that I'm much too late

And you deserve someone better

Your smile broke all her hopes. She started sobbing quietly, something she's never done before. She's a silent crier, so hearing her sob hurts you way more than you expected. You immediately pulled her into a hug, confusing her but her mind was too foggy to even question it. Her arms instinctively went around your neck as she buried her face into the crook of your neck.

Save your tears for another day

"Of course I want you back, silly. I'm just saying that we need to work to get back to where we were before. I won't ever let you go again, Natasha, so please don't let go either." You whispered into her ear. Every part of Natasha came back to life the moment those words left your lips.

You felt her hug you tighter. You continued to whisper comforting words to calm her down, as she whispered promises to you as well.

"You are the only sure thing in a world filled with a thousand doubts, Natalia. Please don't walk away again." You murmured, feeling her nodding her head hastily.

"Never again, my love. You're the only thing that keeps me sane. I love you." She pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and close the gap between your lips.

That's when you knew, you're never going to see her in the arms of anyone besides yourself, ever again.

Save your tears for another day (ah)

note :

surprise ! the original ending was that bucky and natasha ended up together cause y/n didn't want to take natasha back. buuuut i didn't wanna hurt myself that much while writing it so yeah, u guys get this. enjoyyyy!

taglist (i won't do taglists but i will be doing it for fics w/ diff parts) : @taliiiaasteria @itstashaswife @username23345 @wandanatlov3r @esposadejoyhuerta @marvelwomen-simp @artm99 @d3adp00ls @freewaysigns-underpasses @unique0003 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @spid3rfan @ellieromanov @mikookaaaaaao @miky40s @ncsdlr @unknownfanfic @pipsipey17 @tarathia @kyky-maximoff @graceher07 (i didn't know if the people who asked for pt2 wanted to get tagged so if u didn't, i'm so sorrryyyyy)

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #bucky barnes #gay gay gay #ely !! ★#by ely !! ★#avengers x reader #Spotify

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dorayakichan · 6 months

Note

hello, can i request nsfw hcs for the sabbath crew? (you can leave out red glasses + hyuk if you don’t write for them) thank you!!

Windbreaker nsfw headcanons: Sabbath Crew (Joker, Wooin, Hyuk x fem!reader)

"You know I'm one of the bad guys, right?"

Genre: headcanon, smut

CW: MDNI, nsfw, smut, oral, penetration, rough, fem!reader is aged up

Joker

He had noticed you since the beginning of the tournament, in fact, it was impossible for him not to when you were so dazzling and attractive.

Yet, you were enemies and the further the tournament went the more your crew and his clashed.

Who would have thought that in between all these clashes, something more would have sparked something so wrong yet so good that both of you, were unable to stop now.

He grips your hips tightly as he inserts himself into you, nearly bruising your soft thighs, pushing all of his member inside of your swollen core. His grunts and your whimpers fill the room as he looks at your pleading innocent stare.

“More!....faster!” you are always giving those pleading eyes to him. Which is also his signal and his consent to do things to you a woman’s body like yours would have it hard to withstand. He slams hard so hard that his dick touches your clit, it’s wrong, it’s dangerous yet you love the feeling of pain coursing through you as he doesn’t stop at that.

He is rough fucking you as if he is possessed, molding the shape of your inside to the shape of his cock. He doesn’t stop nor slow down even when tears start coming out of your eyes, because he knows that's how you like it, he knows your deepest desires and fantasies. As he moves his arms up and down your body resting them on your boobs and squeezing them.

He sucks on your nipples and licks them as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted in his life, as he comes closer to his release.

“I’m close.” He says waiting for your approval before increasing the speed, and releasing himself inside of you, obviously with a condom on. There is no way this man would risk having to take one more responsibility in his life.

He lays beside you as you snuggle into his opened arms, laying your head on his chest. You give him a peck smiling at him.

“You know I’m one of the bad guys right?” he asks you.

“It’s too late to say this now after what you did…Hmm?” you give him a kiss, a more passionate and lustful one this time getting on top of him. “Wanna go for another one?” you seductively ask.

Wooin

Once you had come to cheer for your friends and that’s when that day you happened to cross paths with this infamous guy. Another time you met him again in another race as you were cheering for your friends he approached you and asked for your number.

Here you are now, getting your face nearly sucked as he devours you. It happened once, and you thought it was all there was going to be. Then it happened one more time and another and another until you both found out you couldn’t stop it anymore whatever this was you would always go back to him and he would always call you and only you.

As he grabs you by your waist shoving you on his couch he unbuckles his pants giving you a full sight of his erect cock. “Are you sure you can take this baby? After all, you know I’m one of the bad guys, right?

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, while keeping eye contact as you lick the tip of his member. Teasing him, moving your tongue in circles around it slowly before putting it all in your mouth.

“I guess that’s a yes then.” He smiles, pushing your head deeper making you nearly choke.

Your movements in the beginning are slow as you adjust your mouth to his length but they don’t stay like that for long as you feel your hair getting grabbed harshly. He starts fucking your mouth as if having been deprived of food and water for days.

“Keep your eyes up!” He orders. Wooin loves the teardrops falling out of your eyes as you nearly choke on his member in absolute need of air which he deprives you of, until the moment of his release. And even then he keeps his dick on your mouth until he has fully released everything inside expecting you to swallow it all.

He licks the tears on your face as he deviously smiles. “Guess I got hard again? Care to help?”

Hyuk/Hyeok Kwon

I don’t think you would have caught Hyuk’s eyes if not for those amazing tricks you had pulled that one early morning as you practiced with your friends for the tournament. He was walking alone when he noticed you and your crew. Your eyes were shining with excitement as you showed the others your incredible moves.

He first came up to you when you were alone going home, then another time while you were biking around town asking for a race. After some time he asked you to teach him one of your tricks while he would teach you one of his. It kind of seemed like he was following you around just to learn those tricks.

So you were not sure how you had ended up on the same bed, head on the mattress as you felt his cock push into the wet folds of your stimulated pussy. He moved into you from behind, thrusting slowly but enticingly as one of his hands was on your pussy playing with his fingers your overstimulated clit.

His grip tightens as he starts to move faster. Between the deep breaths you both let out he says. “How can you be so wet? You know that I’m one of the bad guys right?”

“Oh God, is that what you are thinking right now?” his words kind of excite you but you try to act annoyed. “Kind of…” he answers.

“Well bad during the day but good during the night!” You say as his eyes widen. He pulls you by your arms as your back arches slightly getting you as close as possible to him, while his thrusts become faster and faster.

He leans his head on your back as he moves hot breaths tickling your skin. If he lets go you are sure you will hurt your nose as your arms have become limp from the tight hold he has on them, you nearly can’t feel them anymore as he pushes more and more until his release comes closer.

He lets you go with no warning as he takes his dick out of you stroking on it for a few seconds until his cum comes out dripping on your back. Painting it all in white. You fall asleep fast after that, not even hearing the click of the door as he exits the room leaving you naked and spent on top of the bed.

#windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker headcanon #windbreaker smut #windbreaker characters #windbreaker wooin #windbreaker joker x reader #windbreaker joker #windbreaker hyeok kwon #windbreaker hyuk #smut x reader #smut x windbreaker charachters #smut prompts

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onepiece-fics · 7 months

Text

Sanji x picky eater!Reader

Description: Reader is a picky eater and doesn’t dare to tell Sanji. The chef, however, needs to get to the bottom of why you’re giving Luffy all your shrimp. Gender-neutral reader.

Word Count: 1187

Warnings: Slight angst (mostly fluff though), Sanji is very flirty, mentions of difficult food habits.

Requested by anon<3

You feel bad about it, but as you sit by the dinner table you can’t help but pick at some of the food on your plate. Dinner for tonight was shrimp paella, cooked by the amazing chef himself. Of course, anyone who knew of Sanji knew how amazing he was at cooking, there was no question about it, but having been born a picky eater you felt immense guilt with how you felt about some of his food. You hadn’t even told him the things that you can’t bring yourself to eat, scared that he would take offense, or maybe even try to force you to eat it like so many other people had tried in the past.

You tried to pick away the shrimp on your plate and focus on the rice and vegetables instead, but of course, knowing that it had touched the shrimp was enough to put you off.

“Ah? Y/N? Are you not having your shrimp? Can I have it?” the enthusiastic captain asks you from across the table. You nod and with a blush on your face, you shovel off the shrimp from your plate to his. You notice Sanji looking at the two of you from afar, and not being able to read his face makes you nervous. Is he taking offense? Do you look silly? Is he gonna think you’re being childish? You sigh and continue trying to eat the rice and veggies on your plate.

When dinner was done Sanji came to pick up everyone’s plates like he usually did but when he came over to you he gave you a look.

“Could you please stay for a while Y/N? I’d like to talk to you for a minute” he says, a slight smile on his lip but a confusing look in his eyes. You nod and stay in your chair as everyone else leaves. When you notice he’s moving to wash the dishes you rush up and silently offer him your help. He starts handing you the wet dishes to dry off and stack neatly.

“Do you not like shrimp?” he says suddenly, breaking the silence between you. You tense up a little, unsure what to say.

“Uhm, yeah, sorry, I’m not really that big on seafood in general…” you say quietly. He stops what he’s doing and looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“Why haven't you told me, Y/N? I don't want to make you food that you won’t enjoy… I’ll happily modify your dinner for your tastes!” he gives you a big smile and your face heats up. “Wait… Do you also not like eggs? And… Broccoli? Oh, and the spinach!” he says, his fist hitting his palm like he finally understood something. Your face is fully flushed and it’s so warm you swear Sanji could actually cook a full meal on it at this point.

“I- I’m so sorry Sanji. I know I should’ve told you a while ago but-! I can be really picky with food sometimes and it’s like super embarrassing and I don’t want to be rude or insult your cooking- and I don’t want you to think I’m childish or something either. It’s just how my tastebuds work! I can’t help it but I’m really so sorry, I’ll try to learn to eat those things, I promise!” You ramble suddenly, catching the chef off-guard. He looks at you with big eyes and moves to put his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N…” he starts. “You don’t have to worry my dear, I know you would never intentionally be rude or anything. I have been worrying for a while that maybe my cooking skills had gone downhill… But this explains it all!” his hand moves from your shoulder to cup your cheek.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, everyone’s tastebuds are different and I totally get that. We all have things that we can’t stand to eat, if you just write me a list of things you don’t like I promise to make you the best food you can imagine, alright?” he smiles at you. You just stare at him in shock, a single teardrop falling from your eye which he quickly catches with his thumb.

“S-Sanji… Are you sure it’s alright?” you ask him and he chuckles.

“I’d much rather cook you food that you genuinely enjoy than keep feeding you things you just hand off to Luffy” he teases you. He pulls you in for a hug and kisses the top of your head. “I could never judge you Y/N, you’re way too kind to me for that” he whispers as you put your arms around him.

Your emotions suddenly sweep over you and before you know it, you’re staining his suit with your tears. Even though you knew how kind Sanji was, a part of you thought that he was going to react the same way people had in the past. Far from everyone is kind to those who struggle with picky eating, no matter the reason for it happening in the first place. The fact that he was even offering to cook you your own personalized meals… You pull away from him, cringing as you see the wet spot on his shoulder from your tears.

“I’m sorry about that…” you sniffle and it makes him laugh. The sound of it brings you to a smile and you giggle with him. He takes one of your hands in his and raises your chin with the other one.

“Now. No more being shy about food habits, alright?” his smile is dazzling and it leaves you breathless. You nod for a response and he smiles and leans closer to you. “I really mean it Y/N. If I get to cook extra food for such a beauty as you… It only brings me joy” he whispers. You bite your lip when you realize the position you’re both in. You leaning against the kitchen counter with him in front of you, leaning into you more and more. A blush spreads across your cheeks again and you gulp. You’re just about to lean up when–

“Y/N!!!!” Chopper barges into the kitchen, opening the door wide open, scaring both you and Sanji shitless. He jumps off of you, hastily moving to do the dishes once again. “Usopp needs you! He’s convincing Luffy not to prank call the Marines! Please help us!” Chopper begs you. With your hand covering your blush the best you can, you look back at Sanji, a blush spread over his cheeks too, before giving a nod to the doctor.

“I- I’ll be right there Chopper! Steal the den den mushi if you have to!” you tell him. Chopper nods and runs back to wherever the captain is.

You look back at Sanji who’s shaking with laughter as he’s rinsing out a plate.

“I’m expecting a note with all your least favorite foods by tomorrow” he tells you and winks. You nod and awkwardly move to leave the kitchen.

“Oh, and that note better include your favorite foods too, by the way. I want to make you only your favorite meals from now”.

#sanji #one piece #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #sanji fluff #fluff #one piece fluff #one piece fanfiction #sanji fanfiction #help im such a slvt for sanji i adore him so much

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tolerateit · 1 year

Text

surprise songs so far

17th March - Tim Mcgraw

17th March - Mirrorball

18th March - State of Grace

18th March - This Is Me Trying

24th March - Our Song

24th March - Snow On The Beach

25th March - Cowboy Like Me (with Marcus Mumford)

25th March - White Horse

31st March - Sad Beautiful Tragic

31st March - Ours

1st April - Death By A Thousand Cuts

1st April - Clean

2nd April - Jump Then Fall

2nd April - The Lucky One

13th April - Speak Now

13th April - Treacherous

14th April - The Great War (with Aaron Dessner)

14th April - You're On Your Own, Kid

15th April - Mad Woman (with Aaron Dessner)

15th April - Mean

21st April - Wonderland

21st April - You're Not Sorry

22nd April - Today Was A Fairytale

22nd April - A Place In This World

23rd April - Begin Again

23rd April - Cold As You

28th April - The Other Side Of The Door

28th April - Coney Island

29th April - High Infidelity

29th April - Gorgeous

30th April - I Bet You Think About Me

30th April - How You Get The Girl

5th May - Sparks Fly

5th May - Teardrops On My Guitar

6th May - Out Of The Woods

6th May - Fifteen

7th May - Would've, Could've, Should've (with Aaron Dessner)

7th May - Mine

12th May - Gold Rush

12th May - Come Back...Be Here

13th May - Forever and Always

13th May - This Love

14th May - Hey Stephen

14th May - The Best Day

19th May - Should've Said No

19th May - Better Man

20th May - Question...?

20th May - Invisible

21st May - Red

21st May - I Think He Knows

26th May - Getaway Car (with Jack Antonoff)

26th May - Maroon

27th May - Holy Ground

27th May - False God

28th May - Clean

28th May - Welcome to New York

2nd June - I Wish You Would

2nd June - The Lakes

3rd June - You All Over Me (with Maren Morris)

3rd June - I Don't Wanna Live Forever

4th June - Hits Different

4th June - The Moment I Knew

9th June - Haunted

9th June - I Almost Do

10th June - All You Had To Do Was Stay

10th June - Breathe

16th June - Mr Perfectly Fine

16th June - The Last Time

17th June - Seven (with Aaron Dessner)

17th June - The Story Of Us

23rd June - Paper Rings

23rd June - If This Was A Movie

24th June - Dear John

24th June - Daylight

30th June - I'm Only Me When I'm With You

30th June - Evermore

1st July - I Miss You, I'm Sorry (with Gracie Abrams)

1st July - Ivy (with Aaron Dessner)

1st July - Call It What You Want

7th July - Never Grow Up

7th July - When Emma Falls In Love

8th July - Dorothea

8th July - Last Kiss

14th July - Picture To Burn

14th July - Timeless

15th July - Starlight

15th July - Back To December

22nd July - This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

22nd July - Everything Has Changed

23rd July - Message In A Bottle

23rd July - Tied Together With A Smile

28th July - Right Where You Left Me (with Aaron Dessner)

28th July - Castles Crumbling

29th July - Stay Stay Stay

29th July - All Of The Girls You Loved Before

3rd August - I Can See You

3rd August - Maroon

4th August - Our Song

4th August - You Are In Love

5th August - You're On Your Own Kid

5th August - Death By A Thousand Cuts

7th August - Exile

7th August - Dress

8th August - I Know Places

8th August - King Of My Heart

9th August - New Romantics

9th August - New Year's Day

#meg talks #taylor swift

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m4tthewsgf · 3 months

Text

Tell me where it hurts so I know where to love you the hardest

Matt Sturniolo x fem y/n

Based off of this request: could you do a matt hurt/comfort where the readers just struggling (like not showering, not getting out of bed, not eating, no motivation) and that’s really unlike her because she’s typically a very alive person, and it’s just really fluffy idk

Warnings: slight language ig just fluff

Author's Note: this is so short and bad I'm so sorry anon

---

I had it all. Or at least that's what people thought of me. Well, it wasn't far from the truth; I was surrounded by beautiful people, I bad great friends, an amazing boyfriend and family, a big house and a nice car. I truly did have it all and usually I wasn't one to complain because I truly felt blessed to have all of those things others wished for, but unfortunately they couldn't fill the emptiness I have been feeling recently in my heart.

If you asked my friends and family about me, they'd tell you that I was an outgoing person who seized every opportunity that landed in her hands. Gratefulness and hopefulness are two things that could easily characterise me. I was not usually one to turn down a nice party on a Saturday night or a trip to the movies with my friends, but if I'm being honest, the past few weeks have been really tough for me and all I wanted to do was just rot in my bed.

I couldn't really tell what is going on with me but my heart was just feeling heavy. There was this sadness inside me I simply couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. And trust me, I had tried everything. Journaling, music, movies, meditating, drawing. None of these helped apart from sleep but even that had become a difficult task for a week.

My boyfriend, Matt, had taken notice in the shift of my mood and had been desperately trying to help me in any way he could think of. His trials obviously didn't go unappreciated by me, but I physically couldn't do it. He had been texting me for days on end, pleading me to allow him to take me out and get me out of the house but I rejected his offers every time. I felt bad. I could tell this was hurting him as well and hurting him was the last thing I wanted to do because Matt really was an angel sent from heaven. He gave me the liberty to breathe and I didn't want to lose him. Ever.

However, I couldn't let him see me like this. I hadn't showered and eaten in what felt an eternity and had slept for an hour or two in 4 days. I was a mess. An embarrassed mess, may I add. I had no reason to be sad. No reason to feel this empty when I had him.

I was supposed to be a lively person, someone joyful and jolly. Why the fuck was I like this?

“Baby?” I heard a familiar male voice from just outside my bedroom door. Matt. Shit.

“Y/n, I've called you 10 times what-“ he opened the door and saw me sitting in my bed with my back pressed against the bed frame, the only source of light coming from the TV on the wall in front of me. He took a deep breath at the sight of my obvious exhausted figure before closing the door and making his way up to me.

“Baby, what's wrong?” he asked as he sat down right next to me from the empty side of the bed. I didn’t look at him. I was too embarrassed to do so.

“Y/n” he said with a warning tone and placed his hand on my chin to turn my head towards him. My gaze was filled with guilt and I was on the verge of tears. He scanned my face for a minute or two without saying a word. The silence became unbearable, so I decided to speak with a breaking voice.

“Why did you come here?”

“Did you expect me to just sit in my house when you have been clearly not doing well for weeks and not answering my calls?” he spat, “I thought something happened to you, y/n!” his face was harsh and there was a hint of disappointment in it that was caused from my question.

“I am sorry,” a few teardrops fell from my eyes. He tilted his head and smiled softly at me. Matt let out a shaky breath before speaking again.

“No, don't. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I should be the one apologising,” he cupped my face and wiped away the wetness on my cheeks.

“You have every right to be mad, I haven't been the best girlfriend lately and I understand your frustration,” I voiced truthfully. I didn't lack self awareness. I knew that this whole situation wasn't only exhausting me but him as well.

“I won't lie to you, I am frustrated,” he placed a kiss on my forehead, “but only because I'd rather you communicate your feelings with me than leave me guessing. I just want to help, baby” I let out a deep breath that I didn't even know I had.

His face was so angelic. His blue eyes piercing through mine, his lips forming a sad grin and his cheekbones even more prominent. The warmth of his fingers that were caressing my skin traveled to my heart, lighting up a small fire in the beating organ that has been drenching in cold for days.

“I love you, you know that right?” he asked me as his gaze jumped from one of my eyes to another. I nodded my head but he needed my words.

“No, I want to hear you say it.”

“I know you love me, Matt” my voice broke once more, a sound that made Matt’s eyebrows furrow.

“Then why won't you talk to me? I only want to help you, dear, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what hurts” he reasoned. More tears threatened to leave my eyes as he spoke.

“Tell me where it hurts so I know where to love you the hardest, y/n. And don't tell me it's nothing, I can tell you haven't been sleeping or eating properly” Matt added and pointed at my figure. It was the truth; I had lost a couple pounds and my dark circles were more vivid than ever. My internal struggles took a toll on my physical wellbeing as well.

“I don't know what it is Matt I just-“ I began to cry.

“Oh my love, c’mere,” he wrapped his arms around me and I hid my face into the crook of his neck, “I'm right here baby, you're not alone. I got you, I promise I'm not going to let you go through this alone” he whispered against my hair as he stroked it gently. He rocked us back and forth while letting words of encouragement and reassurance fall from his lips until my sobbing ceased.

“I am so tired,” I mumbled against his skin, “my heart- it feels heavy and I don't know why I am just so sad Matt, I don't know what to do” I weeped, the amount of my tears creating a small paddle on his white shirt.

“It's okay baby, everything will be okay. I'll make it okay, hm?” he hummed while his hand started rubbing my back.

“I am sorry for not talking to you about it I was just scared you were going to leave me or be disappointed in me because I'm not supposed to feel this way and-“

“Hey,” he pulled away, “you are human. Humans have feelings, a smart girl like you should know that” he chuckled and booped my nose playfully with his finger, earning a giggle from me.

“You shouldn't feel obligated to feel any certain type of way. Sadness is okay. Anger is okay. Your feelings are okay and valid even if you don't know what caused them,” Matt grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers, “I am not disappointed or angry at you for feeling, y/n. And most certainly, I'm not going to leave you because of it” the boy laughed at my silly, unreasonable worries.

“But I'm supposed to love life and be happy all the time and cheerful and-“

“No, love. You're not supposed to be anything,” he shook his head, “you're supposed to be you. And you is a person who experiences not only positive emotions but negative ones as well. And that's more than okay and you shouldn't feel the need to hide either of them, not from me at least” he whispered with a loving smile.

I just looked at him in awe. His words felt like daggers not because they were hurtful but because they were exactly what I needed to hear. His honeyed voice touching all of my broken pieces, his gentle touch stitching up my wounds and his tender grin making me regain a sense of my spark after a while. What would I do without him?

“I love you” I simply stated and placed my arms around his neck, my body collapsing harshly into his. I felt his own hands coming up to my waist and holding me against him tightly.

“I love you too, baby, but I need you to promise me you'll talk to me next time you feel like this. You got me so worried honey, you don't even understand.”

“I am sorry I didn’t mean to worry you,” I brought my face in front of his and smiled genuinely at him, “I promise I'll reach out next time.”

“Thank you for talking to me about it,” Matt said before placing his lips on mine, the kiss a mixture of love and worry.

“Now, you sit here like the pretty girl you are while I run us a warm bath. I will order us food and we can watch any movie you want, mkay?” he cooed after pulling away and pressing his forehead against mine.

“Even the notebook?” I beamed. He hated the notebook.

“Even the notebook” he chuckled and rolled his eyes at me, “and I'm not leaving. I'm staying for as long as you need, until I make sure you're actually okay” he reassured me. I smiled fondly at him and kissed him one more time.

Matt ended up staying with me for the rest of the week even though I felt better the next morning. His presence brought me so much comfort just like a teddy bear does to a little child. He made sure I ate well and took care of my hygiene. He even read me books to help me fall asleep on his chest, knowing that his voice was equivalent to the most beautiful harmony in my ears and worked just like a lullaby to me.

Since I couldn't pinpoint what hurt me so badly, he loved every part of me. He always did, but he ensured to love me extra hard on the days when I was in pain. One could say that he even babied me and I couldn't care less. His thoughtfulness and caring side only made me fall even harder for him.

Matt taught me that I should feel my feelings and not cover them up like they are just some damps on a wall you could easily paint over. He taught me that it's okay not to be okay and be vulnerable. It didn't matter if I came from a wealthy family or not, if I was short or tall, chubby or skinny, introverted or extroverted. I was human.

And as a human, I was allowed to feel. I was supposed to feel every humane emotion there is. Anger, sadness, frustration, disgust, fear... I was supposed to feel it all. And Matt made sure to be my safe place, the lighthouse in the dark sea, to do just that. He was my comfort. He was my home.

"Baby?" I mumbled and felt my eyes getting heavy. We were laying on my bed, our faces inches away from each other's.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he pressed a kiss on my cheek.

"You're my safety" I voiced as loud as I could before drifting away into sleep with a silly smile on my face. Matt's heart fluttered against his chest, his cheeks turning crimson.

"Always, darling. I love you more than anything" he whispered and pulled me closer to him, his lips placing delicate kisses all over my features whilst grinning stupidly against my soft skin.

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cryptidclaw · 7 months

Text

Star Firesight!

Design Notes:

Fire is now a Scottish fold!... or rather a descendant of Scottish folds since i doubt pure bred cats still exist post apocalypse.

He also has some very small black calico spotting, just two litol spots I think its cute :3

Since he is an ex healer he still wears some flowers like a healer would in memory of his old role.

Character Bio:

Star Firesight

(Fireheart/star)

Bisexual & Polyamorous; Trans Tom; he/him

Age as of 1st arc's beginning: 7 moons; 11 Hyrs

Age as of 1st arc's end: 2 cycles, 5 moons; ~26 Hyrs

Title meaning: -sight = this cat can spot things that others cannot; a cat with a close connection to the Stars; this healer receives many signs from the Stars; the healer may also be very good at spotting illnesses or injuries.

Healer -> Second -> Leader of Thunder Order

Mentor: Redtail (died) -> Spottedleaf

Mother: Nutmeg

Father: Jake

Sibling: Sapheart (Princess)

Half Siblings: Socks; Ruby: Tinyclaw

Mates: Sandstorm; Shriketail

Kits: Squirrelflight (sire: Sand); Leafpool (sire: Shrike); Foxleap (sire: Sand); Icecloud (sire: Shrike)

Grandkits: Star Hollyleaf; Falconstrike; Jaywing; Alderheart; Sparkfire

Other notable kin: Cloudtail (nephew); Snowshoe (nephew); Mistletoe (niece); Spiderleg (nephew); Shrew (nephew)

Notes:

Firesight has chronic pain (and mobility issues later in life):

Fire has the Scottish Fold breed's mutation which effects cartilage in the body, this causes his ears to fold, but it also causes chronic joint pain and can progress into swollen and inflexible joints.

For Fire, he is has the heterozygous version of this mutation, which means that his disability progresses more slowly, as a young cat he does experience some joint pain, with some days being worse than others. He is able to medicate with his own chronic pain herbal mix he created as a Healer. However as Fire grows older his joints will worsen, and by the time of his old age he will be unable to jump and some days is unable to walk.

He is able to still use his medication to aid him and is able to lead a happy life, but he is disabled and I didnt want to leave that out of his character! It's important to have disability rep (and spread awareness of the issues with the Scottish Fold breed) and I hope I serve him justice!

Character Summary:

In Progress (to be added later)

...

[Image ID: a digital drawing of Star Firesight, an AU version of Firestar from Warrior Cats. He is standing with his left side showing and has a proud and happy expression with a smile. He is a short, chubby and round shapped bright orange tom with small folded ears and green eyes. His fur's coloring is layered in a fire like pattern from orange to a lighter orangey yellow. His right ear is black and he also has a small black spot above his nose. He has a white lower chest, muzzle, toe tips and tail tip, and his nose is pink. He wears pink flower petals and green leaves in his pelt and a simple crown rests on his forehead bade up of a diamond shaped red stone and a small teardrop shaped white stone below it./End ID]

#cryptidclaw's warriors au #rise of change #firestar #star firesight #med cat fireheart au #fireheart #firestar design #warrior cats #warrior cats design

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multific · 8 months

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Taskforce 141's Reaction to Seeing You in Your Wedding Dress for the First Time - Preferences

John Price

John had been waiting years to finally marry you. He proposed three years ago and ever since, the time never came. So, when your wedding was finally here, it was a very emotional day for everyone. His entire team was there along with your family and John couldn't have wished for more.

Yet, he was nervous as he stood by the altar. He feared you ran off.

So, when the music started playing and you walked down the aisle, John felt a long sigh leave him.

Then he saw how amazing you looked.

He would cry, only a couple of teardrops, but he would let those slip with pride as he watched his bride walk down towards him. He felt intense joy and pride.

Simon Riley

He would be a mess on your wedding day.

So much so that everyone around him had to calm him down. And holding Simon back was a real challenge.

He wanted to see you, but he also couldn't which ate him up on the inside.

He kept fidgeting and shifting from one leg to the other.

Simon swore he nearly gave himself whiplash from how quickly he turned around as the music started to play.

But, there were you, in your gorgeous dress. Simon felt the tears roll down his cheeks, he even saw Johnny take a picture but he didn't care. All he cared about is how much he loved you and your beautiful smile as your hand was handed over to him.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny is not one to hold back his emotions when it comes to you.

He has always been and always will be open about them.

And how could he hold these emotions on his own wedding day?

The answer was simple, he couldn't.

Seeing you enter the room, he was already crying, too taken over by the emotions.

Johnny would be the kind of man who is not afraid to show this side of himself.

He would be proud that he landed a woman like you, and so he would be proud to see you in your wedding gown. Knowing what you two have been through just to get here.

He gave a little squeeze to your hand.

Kyle Garrick

Kyle would be the kind who would try his best to hold back his tears.

It would be difficult considering that deep down he was also an emotional person.

As the music started to play and he heard the doors open, he was fine.

But then he saw you, hiding behind your veil, it just did something to him.

He would still try his best not to cry, even if it was all so overwhelming. You two were surrounded by your family and his, and on top of it all, you looked so gorgeous in your dress.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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daenysx · 26 days

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i'm fooling myself into believing i actually have james here, writing this made me feel a little better. i hope you like it too♡

james potter x fem!reader

james strokes your arm with ghostlike fingers.

you lean into the touch instantly, let him keep you close to his body in bed. your shirt wrinkles as you slide yourself to him, naked legs move forward to be wrapped around his. he accepts your shaky hands greedily, pressing them on his chest. you can feel his heartbeat. you can feel his breathing. you can still feel.

james has never been the one to complain about the kisses you want from him. his lips are stuck on your skin, sometimes curled into a smile. today it's most like a little frown, his slightly pouting lips stay on your head. he breathes in the scent of your conditioner. his one hand stays on his chest to keep your fingers steady as his other hand goes to your waist.

"feel any better, lovely girl?" he murmurs. you nod against his body, rubbing your nose to his neck. "good."

you move a little bit, almost shy to ask but james would never ever say no to you. he recognizes the shift in your emotions, carefully touches your face to see your eyes.

"can i do anything else?" he whispers. he already helped you shower and washed your hair. he applied your favorite cream on your face with your eyes closed. for a big man, he's incredibly gentle. he was sure you weren't hungry when he made you wear something soft to bed. he did all of these just to help you see that you are not alone. you don't have to do everything by yourself. james will happily carry these weights with you.

"i just want to stay here, jamie." you mumble. he kisses your hairline as a response.

"let me hold you," he starts, he sits and leans against the headboard as he pulls you to his lap. his one hand stays on your back as the other holds your legs. "better?"

you nod. he pulls your head to his neck with gentle fingers. "it's gonna be okay, sweetheart." he says quietly.

"but you don't even know what's wrong." you reply.

james lets you play with his fingers. "i know i'm gonna be here with you when you feel good enough to make them okay."

a slow teardrop falls on your cheek and then james feels it on his neck. you take a breath to stop crying, doesn't work though.

"baby." james whispers. "if you need to cry, you cry. it's okay, you don't have to hold back if crying will make you feel better."

"i just-" you start. "i don't want to feel like this. i feel so weak and so unlike myself. i can't do anything, i can't catch up. i let myself down."

you cry harder on james's chest. he rubs your back to help you let it all out. the poisoning thoughts in your mind, the disappointment you feel towards the world and yourself. he's not gonna let you think that you're not doing good enough. you've been strong for so long, maybe it was inevitable for you to doubt yourself when you feel the failure for the first time.

james holds you for minutes, until you finally calm down. you look so tired, it breaks his heart. your eyes are closed, your skin runs hot with the amount of stress you let out. crying is good until you face with the reality again, you are stuck in your mind.

"let's take this off." james says, holding the edge of your shirt and pull it from your head to give you some cool air. "there you go." he kisses your shoulders and your collarbone. his thumbs rub your cheeks dry and you lean into the touch. you seek his lips desperately, meeting with his mouth halfway and taking a kiss from him. he gives you another kiss when you pull back, his huge hand covering your jawline to take control. you want to kiss him until you go breathless, until your head is dizzy, until you only think about him and nothing else. it's a poor coping mechanism but james knows you, he gives you anything you need just to put your mind on ease.

"we'll fix it, do you hear me?" he says, firmly. "anything that bothers you, anything that feels wrong. we'll fix it together."

you nod because he sounds so sure of himself. "you can cry as much as you want, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

you lift your head to see him better. a single drop of hope makes its way to your head, you are not alone in this. james kisses your neck to tilt your head back, you breath easier. he covers your neck with his kisses, his hands are strong like he can make every wrong thing right.

"i'm just gonna sit here, hold you in my arms like my baby." he says. "because that's what you are. you are my girl, do you think i'd let you carry everything by yourself?"

you kiss him so hard, he can't breathe. such a good way to go, with you in his lap only wearing a small tank top and your panties. he lets you bury your head to his neck again, he kisses the soft skin right below your ear. you are vulnerable in a way but never with him. even in your poorest state he makes you feel strong. you can still come back.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james x reader #james x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders fic #james x fem!reader #james potter fanfic

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

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Honestly, I'm thinking about what if sukuna's s/o(in his og era and when he's still human) died and they vowed that they meet again in another life and they will love him again

MANY many many many years later, itadori become sukuna's vessel and sukuna met his dead s/o who's reincarnated. They have exact voice, face, attitude and everything. The only thing that changed is their last name and THEY HAVE WEDDING RING AND THEY'RE MARRED TO SATORU

And worst of all, sukuna is still inlove with his s/o and LIVID

Jsdijscusncjsnfjdnfieixjeifndfjjeks😭😭😭😭

When I tell you I had to run home and write this IMMEDIATELY I mean it. What a absolutely amazing idea for a fic, there you go! Please let me know what you think<3

PS: I changed it up just the tiniest bit because it fitted better in the story I had in mind, hope you still like it though

Promises you can't keep

Pairing: former!reader x Sukuna; reader x husband!Gojo Word Count: 2,5k Synopsis: When Sukuna realizes that you did not only break your oath to wait until he returns back to you but married Gojo Satoru after 1000 years of him waiting for you, he goes insane. Warnings: pretty rough language, heavy hurt on Sukuna's side

„Ryomen“, you breathe out, whole body shivering in nothing but grief.

A thick veil of rain and teardrops pours down on the lifeless body of your lover without any mercy. How did this happen? Who on earth would be able to defeat the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of all times? You always thought that this would last forever, that nobody is able to take this blessing away from you. But there he lays, covered entirely in his own blood while you clearly feel that his strength is leaving him with every passing second.

“You need to look at me, (y/n).”

He had so many enemies, countless people who wanted to defeat him. But no one could ever hold a candle to him – no one until now.

“(y/n). Look at me”, he gasps again urgently.

His hand gently caresses your cheek, a grin plastered on his face. You want to bury yourself against his body, close your eyes and pretend that none of this is actually happening, that your lover isn’t dying in front of you. But you know that look on his face all too well – the stare of death. After all, you took enough lives with your own hands to know how this feels.

“You have to promise me something.”

“I’ll promise you everything”, you cry out, holding onto his hand for dear life while the pounding rain seems to soak through your bones.

This is all too much to bear. You want nothing more than stabbing yourself and lie beside him, waiting for death to finally wash over you. But you know he wouldn’t allow that, that he has other plans.

“I taught you how to use cursed technique, use it. And when you do, we’ll meet again, you hear? No matter in which live, I will find you. Promise me that you’ll wait for me.”

“Of course I will. O-of curse I will wait for you”, you mutter.

“This isn’t enough. I need more assurance. Show me that you mean it”, he demands.

Without thinking twice, you use your powers to cut a gaping wound into your very own forearm, running blood mixing with the rain in an instant.

“I swear I will find you in another life and that I’ll love you until that! I insist by my blood, by a blood oath!”

He smiles while you can sense that life slowly begins to leave his weak frame.

“That’s what I wanted to hear…Don’t break your promise, (y/n)”, he mutters, lids so heavy that he’s barely able to keep his eyes open.

“I would never do that”, you reply, determination filling you gaze.

You will do what he told you. You’ll turn yourself into a cursed spirit and live on until you finally meet again.

Until you are finally able to hold Ryomen Sukuna in your arms again.

“Fuck”, you mumble to yourself, scratching your head while you desperately fight against the pictures of Sukuna that occupy your mind.

Even after more than 1000 years, it seems like this man put a spell on you, haunting you even in your dreams. Well, given the fact that your husband just found out one of Sukuna’s fingers disappeared, the wave of your past seems to catch up with you faster than you thought.

Your phone buzzes violently on your nightstand, making you sign in frustration. Who the hell is this? What could be important enough to contact you when you definitely have more urgent problems at the moment?

“I’m busy sleeping”, you mumble into your phone.

“Gojo-san, you need to come here immediately…I found the cursed object”, Megumi’s unusual bothered voice explains briefly.

“Where’s Satoru? I thought he’s around that area too”, you mutter.

“He’s buying sweets at the moment. Can you please just come here? I wouldn’t call you if it’s not urgent.”

You know that Megumi’s right, that he’d never call you if not necessary. But why on earth is your husband out there buying sweets when this is actually his mission?

“Sure. Give me 5 minutes.”

To be honest, it doesn’t really sit right with you to get in contact with Sukuna again, even if it’s only one of his fingers. But he has to be naïve if he thinks you waited for him, right? After all, he was gone for more than 1000 years, swallowed by earth without any sign. When Satoru Gojo came into your world a few years ago, he showed you what life really is about and even accepted the fact that you are half curse half human, protecting you from the elders with every beat of his heart. Yes, you love this man with all your heart. So much that you gave up the idea of getting back together with Sukuna and started a new life with your now husband.

None of this matters, though. Sukuna is sealed, forever trapped in 20 of his fingers. Even if he’s not over you, he won’t have a chance to confront you anyway.

With a swift motion, you get into your car and drive to the location Megumi has sent you earlier. Everything will work out just fine, like always

______________________________________________________________

“Sorry for keeping you waiting Megumi-chan, got stuck in traffic. Oh, who’s your friend?”, you question while eyeing the pink-haired boy in front of you up and down.

“And why on earth is he half naked?”

Meanwhile, Sukuna laughs to himself inside Yuji hysterically. Finally. Finally he found another vessel. Finally he’s able to search for you again. Oh, how much he missed to hold you in his arms, to hear your sweet voice. How have you been? Did you wait for him like you promised? Of course you did. After all, you told him over and over how much you lo-

“Something really bad happened, Gojo-san”, the black-haired boy that caught Sukuna’s attention earlier speaks out while scratching his head.

Sukuna needs to take a closer look. Who is this woman? She surely is attractive, looking almost like…

“Come on Megumi-chan, stop being so shy and call me (y/n) already.”

You. His heart drops, gaze hungrily soaking up your striking sight. Oh, you didn’t change at all, looking exactly like he remembers you with your wry grin and delicious curves. He waited for this exact moment more than a thousand years.

Finally.

Finally he’ll be able to hold you in his arms again, to rule the world with you by his side like the both of you always imagined. Can this day get any better?

“I prefer Gojo-san, though. After all you’re married to Gojo-sensei.”

…

What was that? Married? And that name…He heard it before. It belongs to the current strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

His stomach turns. This can’t be true, it has to be a misunderstanding. Back then, you made it very clear that you’ll wait for him no matter what happens, he showed you how to reincarnate yourself, he is the one responsible for you still walking on this earth.

You…You wouldn’t betray him like that, right?

“Anyway. What is so bad that you had to call me? And where’s the cursed object?”

“I ate it”, Yuji explains briefly.

Time stands still as you can only stare in disbelief at the boy in front of you, too stunned to speak. Fuck, this is bad. This is very very bad. Not only because that poor teen will probably die, but because it means that he’s reincarnated. Sukuna is back walking on this earth, free to do whatever he pleases. And you know well enough that this could be the end of everything.

“He ate it?”, you repeat with low voice.

Your heart seems to stop beating, your usual so confident smile fades away in the wind.

“Yup”, both boys confirm your worst nightmares.

You need to take a step back, to get a hold on yourself while your finger plays with your wedding ring. This is bad, this means trouble, this is the worst thing that could have possibly happen.

“Gojo-san, are you okay?”, Megumi asks, voice filled with concern.

It’s like you’ve forgot how to breathe, your lungs refusing their service. The eyes of that boy, that orbs that are filled with nothing but innocence and kindness. If you look close enough, you can tell that he’s inside him.

“Get that moron here right now”, you hiss, turning around to face Megumi so fast that your head begins to spins.

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? There are exactly two options:

1. Ryomen forgot about you anyway and will continue his cruel plans

2. He does in fact remember your promise very well and still has feelings for you.

While option one is pretty bad already, you are almost certain that option two is equal to the end of the world. Ryomen is fucking cold-hearted, sadistic and selfish. The only time he ever opened up in his entire life was for you. Oh, you just knew how to make him soft, how to make a thoughtful lover out of a man that wanted to burn the entire world down.

“Long time no see, (y/n).”

You feel like fainting, mouth dry like the desert. It’s his voice. And god, it sounds as horrible and unpromising as 1000 years ago.

“You look younger than I expected”, you comment dryly while turning around.

The worst thing you could do right now is showing him your weakness. You know this man all too well to be aware of the fact that he’ll use everything against you he can grasp.

“And you look like a cheating whore.”

His voice makes the blood freeze in your veins in an instant. He isn’t just mad. No, he’s absolutely furious.

“Ouch, that are some rough words to say.”

Before you have time to even comprehend what’s happening, he grabs your wrists and forces you to look at him, tight grip making your skin burst.

When you look into his eyes, you can see nothing but hatred and disgust in them – a mixture that makes your guts turn.

“Is this a wedding ring on your finger, (y/n)?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“You were gone for over 1000 years. How long did you expect me to wait for you?”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, completely swallowed by the threatening way he stands in front of you.

“You swore. You fucking swore.”

“I moved on. I found a man who truly loves me and I love him with all my heart, without any fear or pursuit of power. He accepts me the way I am, he fights for me-“

“And I didn’t do that?”, he yells so hostile that you flinch.

“He showed me that I don’t have to subjugate people. The jujutsu sorcerers at Jujutsu High accept me the way I am, I would even say they like me. And admiration is so much better than submission. I changed my view of the world and this view doesn’t match your fucked up one at all.”

Sukuna can’t believe it. All these fucking years, he waited for you patiently. You were the only thing that occupied his mind, the empire you could have built together. Are you really giving that up because of a random man that put a ring on your finger? Are you giving this life of luxury and nonchalance up for some brats? This doesn’t sound like you at all.

“The (y/n) I knew gave nothing about all of these things”, he spits atyou.

“The (y/n) you knew died a long time ago”, you reply.

He hates the way his heart burns in agony because of your words and how he feels like falling apart. He is the king of curses, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of all times. You should be happy that he chose you to stay by his side, to support him while he reaches his goals. Why on earth do you choose a miserable life like this over him?

It doesn’t matter.

“Then you are my enemy and I’ll kill you.”

“Here I am everybody! Look what I’ve bought!”

There has probably never been a moment in your life when you were so happy to hear the voice of your husband.

“That boy eat the finger, Satoru”, you explain briefly without breaking eye contact with your former lover.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So you’re Sukuna, huh?”, Gojo mutters besides you.

Something inside Sukuna snaps. Instinctively, he lunges himself at Gojo, over and over trying to punch into his pretty face. Is this really the man you chose over him, the man you decided to marry despite the promise you’ve made?

“You have something that belongs me”, Sukuna states, pure hatred dripping from his voice.

“I know you want my woman back because she had a thing with you a thousand years ago. But I need to disappoint you: she’s mine now”, Gojo replies with a cheeky grin.

All the countless nights you spent together, the humans you killed on each other’s side, the empire the two of you built back then in your era. And this is your replacement? He can’t help but feel…

Grief. Fuck, even if he’d never admit it out loudly, you were the only thing besides his powers that Sukuna really valued, maybe even loved. He shouldn’t care about things like this, about your new lover. But he’s absolutely livid, the thought of this man touching the body that belongs to him making him see nothing but red.

Over and over, he tries to beat Gojo Satoru, to show him that he is not to be trifled with. But even though that annoying brat acts as his vessel now, there are still 19 parts of him missing. To beat this man, he’ll definitely need more than one part of his soul.

“C’mon, get back on track boy, don’t let this old fart take over your body”, Satoru speaks to Yuji.

Slowly but surely, Sukuna feels the control slipping through his fingers. No, he isn’t done yet, he has to kill the man that proclaimed you, he has to force you to stay with him at any cost. He waited to damn long for this moment, he can’t lose control now-

“Man, that is really annoying”, Yuji speaks out with his usual voice.

You can tell immediately that he’s gone, almost falling backwards in relief. That was a damn close call. If Satoru wouldn’t have made it one time, who knows what would have happened.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Satoru asks softly, hand placed on your back in order to support your trembling body.

“Yeah. Just a little surprised to see my ex after 1000 years I guess”, you breathe out.

All Sukuna is able to do is sit down and watch as this fucker wraps his arms around you and places a small kiss on your forehead, asking you over and over if you’re okay and what happened.

This is unacceptable. You are his and his alone. He will not allow another man to touch you, let alone marry you.

He leans back in his chair and lets himself close his eyes for a brief moment. No, Sukuna won’t allow you to be happy. Even if it’s the last thing he’ll do, he’ll kill Satoru Gojo as soon as an opportunity presents itself.

“I’m coming for you, (y/n).”

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