#world cup#football#fifa#soccer#fifa world cup#world cup 2026#england nt
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Vietnam
seen from Russia
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Finland
seen from Vietnam
this is cannon because of plug!choso.
potential plug!choso smut coming?
ᴛᴏ ꜰɪx ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ
{A Bayverse! Raph x Reader Mini Series}
꒰Estimated Parts - 2-3꒱⸒⸒
The cursor blinks.
And blinks.
Another match found, another loading screen, another thirty seconds of silence from the massive figure hunched at the desk. You scroll past another photo on your phone—some couple you barely know posing at a pumpkin patch, his hand on her waist, her smile genuine—and the knot in your chest pulls tighter.
“He didn’t even text me back about Saturday,” you say into the dim of Raph’s room. The only light comes from his monitors and a string of battered Christmas lights he never took down. “I sent three messages. Three. And he left me on read for two hours. Then posted a photo of his dinner.”
From the desk, a low grunt. The click of mechanical keys.
“Guy sounds like a real prize.”
You shift on his bed, your back against the wall, a pillow bunched behind you. The sheets smell like gunpowder and something earthier, something you’ve never been able to name. “He’s not always like this. I mean. He used to not be.”
Raph doesn’t turn around. The broad expanse of his shell faces you, jagged and battle-scarred, painted with red Japanese characters you asked him about once. He’d shrugged and said, reminders. The crack in his plastron catches the monitor glow, a lightning bolt frozen in dark keratin. His sai sit on the desk beside his keyboard, within reach even now.
The cursor blinks again.
“Used to,” Raph repeats, and even without seeing his face you can hear the sardonic twist of his mouth. “Real convincing.”
“Shut up.”
He snorts. The sound rumbles deep in his chest, something felt more than heard. You’ve known him long enough to catalog his silences and his sounds, the way he communicates in exhales and grunts and pointed lack of eye contact. Two years of Friday nights on this bed, on this floor, leaning against his shell while he cleaned his weapons, while he pretended not to watch the movie, while you pretended not to notice how carefully he handled things that weren’t his brothers.
Two years of pretending.
Your phone buzzes. A notification, finally—but it’s just a game invite from Mikey. You swipe it away and let the phone drop to the mattress.
“When’s the last time he kissed you?”
The question comes so flat, so casual, that it takes a moment to land. Raph still doesn’t turn. His three-fingered hand moves the mouse, clicks, drags something across the screen. The back of his head—that worn red mask tied with trailing tails, the textured green of his skin catching the light in ridges and valleys—gives away nothing.
“What kind of question is that?”
“A question.”
You stare at the ceiling. There’s a water stain in the corner shaped vaguely like Florida. “I don’t know. Two weeks? Maybe three. He was in a hurry.”
“To do what.”
“I don’t know, Raph. Leave. Whatever.”
He makes a sound low in his throat. Not quite a growl. Something adjacent. The keyboard clacks, then stops. The room goes quiet enough that you can hear the distant rumble of a train, the drip of a pipe somewhere in the lair.
Then he swivels his chair around.
You’ve seen him do this a thousand times, but something about it now makes your breath catch. Maybe it’s the slowness of the motion. Maybe it’s the way the chair groans under his weight—six foot six of muscle and shell and barely restrained attitude. Maybe it’s his eyes, that bright goo green, fixed on you with an intensity that usually gets reserved for Foot Clan ambushes and especially insulting pizza orders.
His legs spread slightly as he leans back, arms folding across his plastron. The bandages wrapping his forearms are frayed at the edges. Three fingers on each hand. Thick, blunt, powerful.
“So this guy,” Raph says, tilting his head, “doesn’t answer your texts. Doesn’t make time for you. Doesn’t kiss you. And you’re still callin’ him your boyfriend because…?”
“Because it’s complicated.”
“It ain’t complicated. It’s stupid.”
“You don’t get it.”
“I get plenty.” His voice drops, rougher now, scraping against something lower in his register. “I get that you’re sittin’ here in my room, complainin’ about some loser who can’t be bothered to put his phone down. I get that you’ve been doin’ this for months. What I don’t get is why.”
Heat creeps up your neck. His gaze doesn’t waver.
“You could just leave him,” Raph continues, and there’s something new in his tone now, something that walks the line between suggestion and challenge. “Guy like that? He ain’t gonna change. You’re wastin’ your time.”
“And do what? Be single and miserable?”
“Be single and free.”
You laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Easy for you to say. You don’t exactly date.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. That scar bisecting his lip pulls slightly, a pale line against green. “Nah. Not exactly a lotta takers for a six-foot turtle who lives in a sewer.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure it was.” But he’s not offended. There’s a glint in his eye now, something playful and predatory all at once. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and the size of him becomes suddenly very apparent. He could crush you. Everyone in this room knows it. But that’s not the energy radiating off him now.
“You wanna know what I think?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.” His grin flashes, quick and sharp. “I think you’re scared. I think you’re clingin’ to this guy ’cause he’s familiar, ’cause bein’ alone freaks you out. But you’re already alone, sweetheart. He ain’t there. He ain’t been there.”
The word sweetheart lands somewhere in your sternum and vibrates.
“So drop him,” Raph says with a shrug, massive shoulders rolling. “Easy.”
“It’s not easy.”
“Sure it is. Watch. Hey, Raph, I’m dumpin’ your ass. Done.”
Despite everything, a laugh sputters out of you. “That’s not— I’m not dating you.”
“Yeah, well.” He leans back again, chair creaking. His eyes never leave your face. “Maybe you should consider it.”
The sentence hangs in the air, dense and ridiculous and somehow not ridiculous at all. Your mouth opens. Closes. The Christmas lights flicker slightly—the wiring in the lair has always been questionable.
“You’re joking.”
“Am I?”
“Raph.”
“What?” He stands up, and the motion is fluid despite his size, that ninja training making every movement economical. Two steps bring him to the edge of the bed. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t crowd you, just stands there looking down with an expression you’ve never seen before. It takes you a moment to identify it.
Patience. Raph, of all people, being patient.
“Let me ask you somethin’,” he says, quieter now. “You said he doesn’t kiss you. What about the rest of it? He hold your hand? Tell you you look nice? Make you feel like you’re the only person in the room?”
Your silence is answer enough.
“Yeah.” He nods slowly. “That’s what I thought.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple.” His voice hardens, but not at you. “You deserve better. And I’ve been sittin’ here for two years watchin’ you settle for less, and I’m tired of it.”
Two years. The number echoes. You stare up at him, this impossible creature, this mutant turtle with a short temper and a longer memory than anyone gives him credit for. The lightning crack in his plastron catches the light. His hands hang at his sides, those three-fingered hands you’ve watched break bones and field-strip weapons and, once, very carefully, put a band-aid on your thumb when you’d cut it on a loose piece of metal.
“What are you saying?” you manage.
“I’m sayin’…” He exhales hard through his nose. His jaw works. When he speaks again, the words come deliberate, each one placed like a chess piece. “That guy out there? He don’t know what he’s got. But I do. I’ve known. And if you wanna know what it’s like to be kissed by somebody who actually gives a damn…”
He trails off. Raises one brow ridge.
“I’m right here.”
Your heart slams against your ribs. The phone buzzes again on the mattress—probably Mikey, probably nothing—and you ignore it completely. The whole world has narrowed to the space between you and Raph, the scant inches of air separating your bodies, the impossible offer he’s just laid at your feet.
“We can’t,” you whisper, even as something hungry unspools low in your belly. “He’d— you know he’d lose his mind.”
“Good.”
“Raph.”
“I ain’t tellin’ you to do anythin’.” He spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence that doesn’t match the sharpness in his grin. “I’m just sayin’. You complainin’ about a guy who won’t kiss you. I’m offerin’ to fix the problem. Temporary solution. No strings.”
“No strings,” you repeat, skeptical.
“Unless you want strings.” The grin softens into something almost vulnerable, there and gone. “But we can figure that out later. Right now…”
He takes a half-step closer. His knee brushes the edge of the mattress.
“Right now I’m askin’ if you wanna find out what it’s like. Just kissin’. Nothin’ you don’t want.”
Your throat is dry. Your hands are trembling slightly against your thighs. And underneath the fear, underneath the guilt and the confusion, there’s a bright, sharp flicker of want that you’ve been smothering for longer than you care to admit.
“What if I’m bad at it?” The words slip out before you can stop them. Your face flames. “I mean— he always said— I don’t know what I’m doing, I—”
“Hey.” Raph’s voice drops to something you’ve never heard before. Gentle. Gentle, coming from a mountain of muscle and scar tissue. “Look at me.”
You do.
His eyes hold yours, unwavering. “Whoever told you that’s a liar. And I’m gonna prove it. But only if you say yes.”
The lair settles around you. Somewhere distant, Donnie’s equipment hums. The train rumbles. The Christmas lights flicker.
You take a breath, nodding carefully.
Sooo, I know this is kinda random but I wanted something fun in between the requests I have left. This will most likely be smut so be aware. Butttt I hope you enjoy it!
toxic
sana x f!reader
synopsis: sana gets jealous really easily & reader (who is dating sana) goes to a party with yunjin (le sserafim) in secret...
hope yall enjoy! :D
jealous sana, dom sana, sub reader, suggestive
im gonna write a frikey inokverse fic soon...
do yall want this vibe
or this vibe
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬: Alpha 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐂 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 Omega 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑: 1
It was a day like any other day of your 8 month pregnancy. The bodyguard you had, trailing behind you menacingly. Though he was an absolute sweetheart at heart. He never let you carry anything even remotely heavy or dangerous. Though it irked you sometimes, you knew he was just doing his job. The two of you walked to the parked car ready to go home. Though out of the corner of your eye you notice an ice cream shop. You rub your belly as you felt the cravings start to kick in. The bodyguard noticed right away, chuckling. “I’ll get you your favorite Ms.Wayne. Just sit in the car and wait.” He said with a smile. You nodded as he opened the door for you. Once in, he gently closes the door behind you. He then walks to the ice cream shop, leaving you to your thoughts. You really wanted to go home and relax your ankles.
Little did you know.. when you got home, you’d be in for the worst day of your life.
𓅓|_|_______________|_|𓅓
Once in the driveway, the bodyguard let you out the car. You waved to him as you walked inside but the atmosphere seemed.. off. You looked at is over to Alfred who seems to look at you with a form of pity. You didn’t like that look but decided to carry on, on your marry way. When you walk into the main room, you’re met with a terrible sight. Your husband had his hands all over another woman, as the woman in question rode him. You clasped a hand over your mouth in utter disbelief. Tears began to fall down your face. Slowly you stepped backward toward the door about to leave. Only now though does Wayne decide to look around and is shocked at seeing you.
“Hunny wait, I-it isn’t what it seems! You haven’t been able to tend me so I bought out a prostitute!” He hurriedly explained. He looked at you as if you had ruined a surprise. And what a surprise it was. He reached out to grab you but was met with Alfred stopping him, allowing you to run out. Your thoughts ran rampant as you ran away and away. How long had this been going on for? Was this the only woman or were there more? Did he even truly love you? Was he just lying to you so you’d give him a heir? Was he planning to throw you out afterward?
Tears streaked your face as you tripped, crashing down on a dirty mattress in an alleyway. You leaned against the wall and cried your heart out in silence. Rain started to come down but you couldn’t care less. After minutes of sitting in the cold drowning rain, something covered you from it. “Well well, look at this. What beautiful prey I’ve captured.” A silky voice said as a hand softly ran through your hair. You looked up, meeting the red lipped smile and beautiful green eyes of Poison Ivy. A giant leaf covered the both of you from atop. “What could have such a beautiful young woman like yourself crying?” She asked, sitting beside you.
You hugged her tightly, burying your face in her shoulder. Her eyes widened in shock at your reaction as she gently pulled you on her lap. “There there.. cry it out. It’s alright dear.” Her voice was calming as she soothed you. Soon enough your sobs turned into sniffles. “Are you alright now?” She asked in curiosity. You slowly removed your head from her shoulder. You were a mess. The bit of mascara you had running down your cheeks. “M-My husband cheated. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” You tell her. Her hands reach into her pocket grabbing a handkerchief, slowly removing the makeup, snot, and tears. “Oh darling.. some men truly are just despicable.” She said, pulling you into her again. She liked the feel of you, plump in all the right places. Only thing wrong was a man’s seed was in your belly instead of hers.
“As for where you’ll go.. you can stay with me.” She crooned to you. You look at her shocked as she smiles. “Really? I won’t be a bother to you?” You asked. She nodded once more, getting up while holding you bridal style. You were in slight shock. You thought only your.. ex husband, could pick you up. This woman was stronger than she looked. Only now did you notice her scent. Her cinnamon fresh forest scent with an undertone of musk. She was an alpha. She smirked down at you as you realized this. Her legs had already started moving you two, to where she lived. You took in a deep whiff of her scent as you slowly fell asleep in her strong arms.
(PT2, PT3)
Should I continue this?
Continue
Don’t, it’s horrible
far from any road (Rust Cohle x F!Reader)
(reader is 21 and rust is 35, takes place season 1)
song rec: train song by vashti bunyan :)
word count: 3.1k
*ding ding*
The sound came from the market door opening. You were sitting in your usual spot, on the stool behind the counter you came to know after the past few months working there. It smelled like rustic wood, cigarettes, and leather all around.
You looked up from the crossword puzzle you had been working on since your usual morning shift started, 7am. Walking in with his eyes straight ahead, already looking done with his day at 9 in the morning, was your favorite customer: Detective Rust Cohle.
You sat up straight and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Goodmornin', Mr. Cohle," you say in a casual voice.
His eyes shift over to you, eye bags present. "Hey. How's it goin'?" He responds, his body slightly turned toward you, not waiting for a response before approaching and looking at the cigarette options stocked behind you.
"Goin' alright. What's it gonna be today, Camels again?" you say with a slight tinge of humor in your voice, trying to uplift his mood. All you wanted to do was to take his mind off of whatever was going on for him that day, the market being a place where you could offer him someone to talk to and feel comfortable around. You knew Rust was pretty closed off, but you were determined to win him over a little.
"Yeah, you know me," he says, eyes meeting yours, picking up on your friendliness. You could've sworn his eyes turned a shade lighter at recognizing how you'd paid attention to his usual purchases.
"Comin' right up." You get up and turn around, jean shorts and tank top offering him a nice view of your tanned backside as you reach up to grab them off the shelf. You turn back around place them on the counter in front of you, standing before him.
"Will that be all for today? Can I get you anything else? Cold beer?" you say, just wanting to hear his voice so he can stay a little bit longer.
"Uh..."
As you reach down into the cooler where you keep a few beers for yourself by your feet, you hand him one. "It's on the house," you say with a smile as it lands on the counter with a clunk.
"Well. Thank you, I appreciate that."
"Of course," you say with a sweet smile. "I know what you do for this town Mr. Cohle..." you look down. "It doesn't go unnoticed. Least not by me," you say, trying to engage him further. You look up at him and find his blue eyes boring into the counter below you.
"Yeah, well, pretty sure whoever's behind all this isn't noticing much. But thanks anyways," he answers, eyes flitting back up to meet your rosy cheeked face. Maybe you imagined it, but you could've sworn the blues of his eyes flicked down to your lips for a moment.
"I'm here if you need anyone to talk to, y'know. Just swing by. I'm here five days a week," you say, tilting your head, hands on the counter, offering him your best comforting smile.
He reaches for the cigarettes and the beer before saying, "Alright then sweetheart, I'll see you around. Stay safe." He turns and heads out.
"I will," you call out after him. "See you around, I hope," you say to yourself with a wide grin once he's out the door, proud of your little interaction with him. Did he just call me sweetheart...? You thought as you felt butterflies in your gut. Rust, the man you are.
..............................................................................................................................
The week went by quickly, and to your disappointment, Rust didn't exactly show up at the store. But as you thought about it further, and instead of taking it personally, you realized he was probably just swamped with work.
As your shift ended on a Thursday afternoon at 2:00pm, you gathered your purse and headed home on your bike. The warm, dry breeze flowed through your hair as you rode along the dirt road to your humble abode.
You lived with your roommate, Cassie. She wasn't home, and you knew she wouldn't be until late at night. You went to make yourself some iced lemon water and brought your little radio out to the back porch to listen to some music as you sat back and thought about Rust.
His hands grabbing the cigarette pack, the way his veins showed on his hand when he strained his arm to open the door when he left. His tanned skin, disheveled hair, tired eyes, and all you thought was: I could fix him. You giggled to yourself at that last thought. Rust didn't need fixing, he just needed someone who understood his complicated character and unpopular opinions. Or someone to hold him at night, you thought. That's when your thoughts traveled further...
Your hand caressing his cheek, a soft moonlit glow illuminating both your features in the early hours of the morning. Your fingers gripping his back muscles, his hot breath in your ear, the sweat trickling down his forehead as he collapses on you...
Okay. Calm down, you told yourself. You've had a couple interactions and you're fantasizing about him already.
After attempting to read a book and painting your toenails red, you needed to get out of the house again. It was around 5:00pm, and the temperature and lighting was begging you to take a walk outside.
You put on your ratty cowboy boots, color fading, and slipped on a simple linen white dress with straps. You liked the way the fabric came down and fluttered against your mid-thighs in the wind. You grabbed a brown bag to put your wallet in case you bought something and headed out, locking the door.
With nothing really on your mind, other than the smoking detective that for some reason you craved like nothing else, you head out by the side of the old road, fields on your left and right that went on forever.
After what seemed like 20 minutes, you came up to an old gas station you knew well. You went inside, nodding politely at the man working there whose eyes were already boring into your ass. You quickly went to the refrigerated drinks aisle and got your favorite: a peach Snapple iced tea. You walked up to the register and greeted him politely, trying your best to ignore his crooked smile and creepy comments.
"Thank you, have a nice day," you said as you grabbed your change and drink and turned toward the door.
"Anytime, sweetheart," he said with a grin that made you uncomfortable. The way he said it was nowhere near how Rust did. You just wished he was here.
You walked outside into the barren landscape toward the bench on the side of the building. You sat down and opened the drink, slurping down the sweet liquid. You reached into your purse and pulled out some vanilla lip balm, and that's when you saw it.
Coming down the road, a 1997 Ford F250HD XL pickup, red paint glistening in the evening sun rays. Rust's car.
You put away the lip balm in your purse and shuffled to smooth down your hair. Sipping your tea, your eyes glanced over at his truck approaching the station, watching his dark silhouette get out of the car in his work uniform, hair once again disheveled, eyes, once again looking exhausted. But your stomach ached for him. As he filled up the car, you wondered if he would notice you. Would it seem too desperate if you got up and went up to him?
Your leg bounced in indecisiveness. But before you could make a decision, the greasy man working at the register walked outside, side glancing Rust. Rust looked back, giving him a dirty look, almost like he could already tell what kind of man he was without even talking to him. You sat back in the bench, trying to look the other way and focus on your nails rather than looking his way.
"Hey there honey," the man's voice came out in a drawl. "You look pretty lonely out here by yourself... why don't ya come inside? We could have a good time together..." he said.
Heart now beating faster, you replied, "Um, I'm alright out here, but thank you." You immediately felt uneasy.
"C'mon now, don't be like that... It's real lonely in there," he said in return as his dirty, eager hand reached down to touch your hair. You jerked back and stood up off the bench, wide eyed and not sure how to tell him 'no' in a way he could comprehend.
But before you could formulate any sort of incoherent mumble, a tall figure appeared behind the stocky man. Your slightly scared eyes moved up to meet those unmistakable blue eyes.
"Everything ok over here?" said Rust. The man turned around and looked him up and down, recognizing the detective's uniform, grumbling out, "Yeah, everything's fine here. Why, is there a problem or somethin'? I ain't done anything wrong," he answered, a bit of sass in his voice.
You slowly took a step back but the grump noticed and whipped his head back around. "Now where do you think you're goin' doll?"
You opened your mouth to answer but Rust's response came first. "I think she's specified she does not want to talk to you anymore. How about you just head on back inside? Register's gettin' cold."
The man gaped at him and physically huffed before walking back inside. Rust eyes moved to you, seeing you looking a mix of concerned and relieved at his presence. You looked back up at him with a grateful expression.
"Hey, thanks for that. Sorry about him," you said with a sarcastic chuckle, your voice still slightly shaken as your eyes flitted down to the dirt you were playing with on the toe of your boot.
Rust could tell you were nervous to be talking to him, but he didn't understand why when it was just him. "Don't be sorry," he said with that deep southern accent you loved so much. "He needed to be told off. Not your fault."
You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words and looked back up at his face. His tanned skin looked too good bathed in sunlight.
"Well, thanks again. I should get home now anyway. Getting late," you said, fiddling with the ends of your white dress.
"You need a ride?" he asked.
Once again, you felt butterflies in your stomach at the thought of being in the passenger's seat with him driving, strong hands gripping the wheel as you fought the urge to grab his face and kiss him.
"Uh... I-I mean, it's not too far a walk from here," was all you could stutter out.
The corner of Rust's mouth twitched up for half a second, amused at your shyness. "C'mon, let me drive you home. It's no trouble."
"Alright. That would be great. Thank you, Mr. Cohle." You started walking forward and the two of you headed to his truck.
His frozen heart seemed to warm at your soft spoken voice, your politeness. So many nights he lay awake thinking of the horrors he encounters on the force, what a horrible man he must be for the things he has to do. He always thought of himself as too powerful, a cop, who could do terrible things to people, with immunity. But your presence brought him back down to earth. He wasn't sure why, but all of a sudden, he felt an urge to protect you from all the gas-station men of the world. From the evil that he knew lurked in the marshlands of Southern Louisiana. You didn't deserve to be exposed to the same things he did.
He wordlessly went and opened the passenger's side door for you. You caught his eye and smiled the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. His face remained hard as stone, but his eyes smiled for him. He shut the door and walked around to his side.
Wow. I'm in his car right now. He's driving me home. Is this real? You thought. You brought your knees together and put your hands in your lap, turning your head to look out the window as Rust drove away from the station you likely weren't coming back to.
After a few moments of silence, you asked, "Mind if I open the window?"
He glanced over at your soft skin, your long hair. "No, go ahead," he said.
You opened the window and felt the warm air hit your face, sticking your hand out to wave it around in the wind like you'd done since you were a kid.
"Y'know if you lay your hand flat against the wind and then slowly tilt it up, you feel how a plane takes off? Like, your hand is the plane, and it's lifting off 'cause the wind is pushing it up," you say with a soft giggle at the end at your childish comment.
Once again Rust felt that feeling of protectiveness. You were too sweet to let any harm get to you. For the first time in a long time, he smiled. At your words. "Yeah, I'd assume that's what the plane would feel at that time," his smile not yet fading.
You giggled again quietly before tilting your head toward him with a smile, hand still waving around outside. "C'mon, try it."
"You want me to try?" He said, still smiling softly at your innocence, eyes glancing between your face and the road.
"Yeah, c'mon Rust."
He rolled down his window and stuck his hand out. He waved it around, flat and then up, echoing your movements. "Yeah, I'm definitely feeling pretty aerodynamic right now." You laughed softly in response.
Both of your hands waving around in the wind, you felt better than you had in a while. Finally sitting with this gorgeous man next you, you felt like you'd manifested this moment.
You put your hand back inside and he brought his back over to the wheel, resting his right hand on the gear stick between the two of you. You tilted your body toward him, eyes raking over his form as he looked out at the road in front of you.
All of a sudden, in a rush of boldness, you reached your left hand over to his, your fingertips grazing over his rough hand on the gear stick. he flinched slightly at your movement, not used to the physical touch. But one look from his eyes at your delicate form, doe eyes looking back up at him sweetly, he didn't move his hand. He actually enjoyed the touch. Wanted more of it.
You continued to trace patterns up his hand, tracing the path of his veins. When you felt like he wouldn't resist, you gently picked up his strong, heavy hand and placed it on your left thigh, just above your knee. His hand hovered slightly in hesitation before relaxing it on your warm, smooth skin.
He looked over at you again to see you smiling up at him, reassuring him that it was okay, that you wanted his hand there. His grip tightened ever so slightly.
Then, he spoke words you never expected to come out of his reserved mouth. "I like that dress you're wearin'. You look... good."
You felt the heat rising up to your throat and cheeks again. "Thanks, Rust. I'm glad you like it." Then, feeling another surge of confidence, you said, "Might just have to wear it more often, just for you." You met his eyes and he smirked in response, looking down at his hand on your thigh.
"I wouldn't mind that at all." His hand then began to gently move up and down your thigh, making sure to not go past the hem of your dress, and you tilted your head slightly back in response.
The rest of the car ride stayed like that, and when you got closer to your house, you directed him on where to go. His hand didn't leave your thigh, and you were glad. I want to be his support system. Someone he can come home to and just lay out all his frustrations and feelings on. Someone he can touch wherever he wants. I want to comfort him, you thought. You were not gonna let him go after this car ride. You were going to stick by him.
As he approached your driveway, you said to him, "Thanks again for the car ride, Mr. Cohle. You didn't have to."
"Of course. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to someone like you," he said, eyes still looking at the road, but you could hear the sincerity in his tone.
"Not if you're here," you said back with a gentle smile.
He turned to you for a moment, your words settling in. So she wants me around, he thought. Yes, I want you around, you thought, as if you could read his mind.
He pulled up in front of your house, finally taking his hand off your thigh to turn the car off, leaving a cold spot where his warm skin had just enveloped.
You turned to him in this moment of silence, and leaned up to his heavenly face. His features took on a form of surprise as you kissed him on the cheek.
"I'll see you around, Rust. Don't be shy to stop in the store. Those Camels won't buy themselves," you said as you got out of the car. Standing outside on the curb, one hand on the door, dress and hair blowing in the wind, you said, "Thanks for the ride," for what seemed to be the tenth time.
"Only for you, sweetheart."
"Bye, Rust."
You closed the door and left him still following your form up into the house. I can't wait to tell Cassie about this, you thought.
As he drove back to his lonely house, he wished you would accompany him one of these cold nights. He realized that no matter how many times he told himself he was better off alone, you might actually be someone he wouldn't mind having around.
Authors note: hi guys this is my first ever ff it’s reader x Kai smith lmk if I can improve smth english isn’t my first language so I had AI improve the grammar etc of the story but it is mine I had a dream abt and wanted it to turn it into a fanfic hope yall like it!!
Genre:Kai x Reader fluff
(Edit by @.ihrtlloyd on tt)
When you were in high school, your best friend was Nya Smith. She was fifteen, and you were a year older at sixteen. The two of you had been inseparable since elementary school. Nya also had an older brother, Kai, who was seventeen. You’d always had a little crush on him — maybe not that little but despite being best friends with his sister, you and Kai barely ever talked. The only times you’d seen him were when he came over to ask Nya for something. And the only words he had ever spoken directly to you were: “Where’s Nya?” That was it. Nothing more. Eventually, you gave up. It was whatever, you told yourself. He had his own life, and you didn’t want to bother him. You knew the Smith siblings had lost their parents when they were young, and Kai was always busy keeping their family business running. You figured he didn’t have time for someone like you. What you didn’t know was that Kai was hiding a secret — a secret Nya knew, but you didn’t. Because in his spare time, Kai wasn’t just the boy from the forge. He was training to become a ninja.
One evening, after another argument with your mom, you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d finally snapped back at her after years of her abuse and control, and in response, she slapped you across the face. Furious and hurt, you ran out of the house and went straight to Nya’s. When you arrived, you were surprised to see a monastery where her home used to be. You didn’t question it. You just rang the bell, and when Nya opened the door, her eyes went wide. “Hey what’s wrong? Why are you here?” she asked, but then she noticed the red mark on your cheek. Her expression fell. Nya already knew about your mom’s cruelty, but she hadn’t realized how bad it had become. She took your hand gently. “Come on,” she whispered, leading you through the halls. The monastery was huge, filled with countless rooms. You couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else lived here. When you reached her bedroom, you sat on her bed and buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally breaking free. “I hate her,” you sobbed. “I hate her so much. What did I do to deserve this? She blames me for my dad’s death she says it should’ve been me who died in the car crash instead of him. But it’s not my fault, I—” The door creaked open.
You froze, lifting your head, and there he was. Kai stood in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes widened, caught in something he couldn’t explain. Nya turned to look at him, but Kai snapped back into himself, clearing his throat. “Uh… I was just going to the store. Wanted to ask if you needed anything, but… seems like you’re busy. My bad,” he muttered, quickly closing the door. On the other side, Kai lingered in the hallway, his heart racing. He’d never seen you like that before — vulnerable, tears streaking your face — and something inside him shifted. He tried to shake it off, but the image stuck in his mind, impossible to ignore.
That night, Nya convinced you to stay over. She gave you spare clothes and tucked you into a guest room. But sleep didn’t come easily. Every time you closed your eyes, you heard your mother’s voice in your head, sharp and cruel. Finally, you got up, deciding to find some water. The monastery’s halls were long and quiet, and you felt small wandering through them. That’s when you heard it — the sharp crack of wood, followed by a muffled grunt. Curiosity pulled you closer. You stopped outside a door, light flickering from the crack. You pushed it open slightly. Inside, you saw Kai.
Not the Kai you thought you knew. His shirt clung to him with sweat, his chest rising and falling as he struck at a wooden dummy. His fists were wrapped in bandages, each punch sparking until a sudden burst of fire exploded from his hand, lighting up the room in gold and orange. Your breath caught too loud in the silence. Kai’s head snapped toward you instantly. Panic surged, and you slammed the door shut, heart racing but before you could run, the door yanked open. Kai stood there, eyes blazing. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you. He pressed you against it, pinning you there with one arm braced above your head, his body still radiating heat. His eyes bored into yours, sharp and demanding.
“What were you doing?” His voice was low, almost dangerous. You swallowed hard. “I… I was thirsty. I was just trying to find the kitchen and heard noises from here. I didn’t know— I’m sorry.” You shut your eyes, bracing for him to get angry. Instead, he let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temple. Slowly, he released you, stepping back though his chest still heaved from training. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he muttered. “But since you already did… yes. I’m a ninja. The fire ninja. And you can’t tell anyone. Understand?” You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and nodded quickly. Your heart was pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. Kai’s expression softened for just a moment, something unspoken flickering there. Then he opened the door and gestured for you to leave. “Go back to bed,” he said quietly. “And remember not a Word”
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