#he’s been stalking you ever since he caught sight of you in passing

[merakiui]

Genuine friend heizou would be so nice in that situation. He can gather the information needed from you, your friends, and anyone else to help you out! That's what friends are for!!

But at the same time, yan!heizou that now from the information he gathered about your past relationship, which knows what to do and what not to do. He promises to keep you safe, you don't ever have to worry about kuni ever again! DW he will always be there to help you out, that's what lovers friends are for!! :)))

Heizou is so refreshing and normal compared to Kuni. At least that’s how he seems on the surface. He’ll wrap his arms around you and Kuni, putting his weight on both of you, and call the two of you his little lovebirds, much to your displeasure and Kuni’s pride. He’ll tell the scariest campfire stories when the lot of you are in the forest, passing drinks and snacks around happily. But he always explains the twists and motivations at the very end, even though no one’s really listening when they’re either drunk or high (or both). He likes to work out the logistics of horror and to comprehend the steps that were taken to pull off the crimes detailed in these stories, some he’s made up and others cases he’s studied in class.

Heizou is always observing things around him. He likes to keep an activity record of the people he finds interesting. Because of this, he has pages and pages dedicated to his friends and their relationships, everything outlined with the occasional correction as he learns more. All of these relationships have one thing in common: you’re connected to them. Your relationship with Kazuha, your relationship with Tighnari, your relationship with Venti, your relationship with him—he keeps track of everything. What he hasn’t been able to work out lately is your relationship with Kuni. You seemed so opposed to him in the beginning, even if you tried (and failed) to hide your obvious apprehension. Heizou and his detective’s brain can sense one thing: there must be more to this than what he’s currently seeing.

And he’s proven correct when he pulls you aside one day after noticing the distress that has worn your youthful features into something tired and anxious. When you spill the truth and he listens intently, nodding and humming along, a part of him is overwhelmed with morbid satisfaction. He was right; he knew something was off between you and Kuni, but he could never quite put his finger on it. And oh isn’t this something! Heizou has read up on stories of crazy, vindictive ex-partners, but he’s never encountered one in real life. To think that the sweet Kuni could hide a side so dark, but then the best criminals cloak themselves in sheep’s clothing.

Like the good friend he is, he offers to help you gather and compile evidence so that when you do involve the authorities they won’t turn you away on account of a lack of solid evidence. Heizou really does want to help you. He’s completely genuine in his approach, but there is the side of him that’s happy to know you’re so vulnerable and easy to manipulate. Which makes him sound like such a terrible person! Really, he’s a sweetheart. You have to trust his handsome face! Heizou is just…conflicted. He’s liked you for a while now—nearly a year if he’s counting properly—and the fact that your history with Kuni and Kuni’s most recent actions are tainting your view of romance… It makes it harder for him to charm you. If you’re constantly guarded, how can he possibly slip through the cracks in your heart? Kuni’s ruining everything for him.

But Heizou has a plan. He’ll be your supportive net—the one to hold you up when you can’t stand—and he’ll work effortlessly to unravel Kuni’s terrible plot so that he can be permanently removed from your life. And once he’s gone, there won’t be anymore roadblocks and Heizou will finally get to have you for himself. He’ll show you that good guys exist—that he’s one of them! After all, he’ll know exactly how to act and what not to say or do because he has an extensive record of all Kuni’s done, both according to your retelling of events and his observations. You’ve just given him the cheat code to your heart, and he’s determined to use it to show you every good side he has to offer. Anything that isn’t so savory will be hidden under layers of sweetness. Heizou’s good at keeping secrets and even better at comprehending the complexities of the human mind. He knows just how to paint a friendly, disarming image of himself.

[maelialuv]

A Farmer's Friend. a Bridgerton fanfic <3

part one: A Chance Encounter

Summary: division brings unity. secrecy creates infatuation. a king's venture into the real world reveals desire.

Warnings: slow burn! strangers to friends to lovers! (Charlotte does not exist) smut! cold showers are on me.

Wordcount: 3.4K

The country side , to you, was heaven on earth. The far roaming hills, the deep valleys. The wide expanse of nothing but lush green fields. There was truly nothing more beautiful.

Your father's farm, to you, was the most beautiful of all. Located at the farthest edge of the county, miles and miles away from the city of London, it was a haven of tall grass, fruitful crops and rich orchards. That is where you spent most of your time, perched between the trunk and wide branches of a tall apple tree in the deepest part of your family's gardens. Far away from the bustling farm house, the uproar of live stock and the erratic, but loving, nature of your home.

From the moment the sun rose over the hills and danced across your face in the morning, to the moment it tucked itself into the valley at night, you were out in the fields. Tucked away indoors, you found yourself claustrophobic. Cased in, stir crazy and a tad hysterical. From a young age, your parents had to heard you inside at the end of a day much like the sheep dogs would heard the lambs back into their pens. It was no different, even as you approached adulthood.

You had your back to the trunk of a tree, a book clutched in one hand and an apple - freshly plucked from the branch above you- in the other, when you caught sight of one of the stable boys chasing after your father in the field ahead of you.

A man of great strength and pride, your father took his work in the fields very seriously. Even after the death of his own father, he was back shearing sheep after just two days. This is why it confused you ever so much , brows furrowed in a frown, to see your father drop his shears at once in front of the stable boy and clutch his chest. The pair raced down the field, sprinting in the direction of the house with the dogs trailing behind them in a flurry of brown and grey and white.

You took a pensive bite of the apple, crunching deliberately. 'Whatever is the matter?' you thought. 'What is the meaning of such fuss?' You tried desperately to get back to your book, the words of the author falling on distracted thoughts as your mind pondered such a reaction from your father. You snapped your book shut with a huff, annoyed and now positively rabid with curiosity.

John, an Orcher in his late fifties, was plucking apples from a tree just next to yours. You peered your head over to him. "John," you called, "have you any reason for father's fuss with the stable boy?"

John's face paled, almost frightfully white, at your question. He took his cap off with the type of remorse one shows with deep apology. "I'm terribly sorry, madam. I thought all the children were aware." You quirked a brow at his words, irritated that the farms people still saw you as one of the children despite being the eldest daughter in the house. His voice was gruff and gravely, years of shouting at yardsmen wearing on his vocal chords. "There is to be a royal visit, madam. Today."

Your eyebrows shot up so fast , you wondered for a moment if they were still on your face. "A royal visit? Here?" The Dowager Princess had not been out in the country since the passing of the late King. Your brows furrowed in deep confusion. "Whatever for?"

John shrugged his shoulders earnestly.

"Lord knows but I, madam. Some sort of review of the farmland, but that's between the King and his advisors."

"The King?" you squawked. You hiked your skirt up, throwing your legs over the branch and jumping down. You stalked to the bottom of the ladder John was standing on. "The King is coming here?"

In all your eighteen years, you'd only ever seen one monarch. Even so, it was a painting of His late Majesty. All you knew of the current King was that he made no visits to the towns, nor galas or balls. He had been labelled somewhat a recluse of a man. You wondered how that could be healthy for such an old person. At least, you assumed he was old. The previous king had died aged seventy and two, so this king must have been creeping into his late fifties now.

"Yes, madam." John said. "Your father has been called now, to prepare. He is due to arrive soon."

Your feet sprang into action, galloping down the aisle of the orchard at lightening speed as you raced toward the direction of the house. You never cared for pompous displays, or the royal family as a whole, very much at all. But today was different. The king himself was visiting your home. Your fields, your valleys and your hills. You felt oddly protective. As if this inspection was to be one with an insulting conclusion. You reassured yourself that they would see the beauty in your home. In the sway of the grassy hills in the wind.

Knowing your mother would not let you close enough to see even the Royal carriage make its way through the wooden gates of your home, you rounded the corner of the brown farm house and clambered your way up the large oak tree in the middle of the drive way. From high above in the branches, you would not be seen by your mother - as she so preferred. She yearned for a daughter more like the ones her sisters had. Lady like and proper and ones that smile at every pleasing farmer their mothers set them up with.

Your mother was disappointed in the lack of girlishness in you. She was displeased in your fascination with reading, and your taking to the outdoors. She was put off by the closeness between you and your father, finding it strange that the two of you could be friends as well as father and daughter. She found your desire to spend all day outdoors odd, and you found her desire to marry a farmer whilst hating farms to be odd in return.

You gripped on to the tallest branches, peering through leaves in the hopes of seeing the gleams of gold as the carriage approached. You saw your father and the farmer boys line up in front of the door below, and your mother and younger brothers waited just behind them. In the distance, you heard a low thrumming sound. It got louder, and seemingly closer, as more seconds ticked by. You realised, as you heard the clop clop clop noise, that it was the sound of horses' hooves on the dirt tracks as the carriage came into view.

The carriage halted in front of your door, and your father outstretched his hand to an older gentlemen in a plush blue suit. Though your fathers clothes- an old grey shirt and black trousers- were not as elegant, he looked just as regal as he shook hands with the stranger, who you assumed to be the King. He had greying hair, curled into ringlets by his side. There were several other men beside him, ranging from young to old to very old.

You craned your neck to hear their voices, a chorus of low hums and stiff lipped compliments from the old man you saw to be the king. Several minutes ticked by, boredom creeping in as you swung your legs back and forth over the branch, before the group of men finally split to tour the farm land with your father. You rejoiced, a grumble in your belly making any words they said inconsequential. You began your decent from the tree.

With scraped palms and knees, you made it to the ground with a thud. A successful spying , you thought as you wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress. Your monologing was interrupted by the stifled chuckle of a man behind you. You whipped round, narrowing your eyes at the man. Dressed in a simple white shirt and the same black field trousers as your father, he looked to be a fielder himself.

"Hello," he said, voice even and light. He stood with his hands behind his back, polite and effortlessly straight. He was young, younger than the rest of the group you assumed he had been standing with. He must have been no more than three years older than you, as his cheeks still had the faintest roundness to them.

"What are you doing?" he asked when you did not say anything.

You knew your eyes were wide, those of someone caught. There was no use in lying , nor excusing. This man had watched you climb down the tree, from where you had spied. You outstretched your hands, as if stating the obvious. "I was climbing down. From the tree."

"From the tree?"

"Yes, from the tree."

"From that tree?" the man asked, voice teasing and smile irritating as he pointed to the tall oak you had previously been perched in.

"Yes, that tree."

"Whatever for?" He placed his hands behind his back once more, slowly pacing around you in a circle.

"I was hungry, you see." You deadpanned.

"Ah," he affirmed, "and you did not bring food when you climbed up the tree." He was enjoying teasing you, as the smirk on his face grew larger at your squirming. "Or simply not enough."

"Well," you trailed off, waiting for the man to introduce himself to you.

"Forgive me," he said, outstretching a hand. "I am George."

"Well George," you continued. "Usually the trees I climb have some sort of fruit or such for me to eat while I climb, or lounge, or read. This is not my typical tree to climb." You explained.

"And I suppose you have a typical tree?" His face was oddly gleeful, as if this conversation with you - a stranger- was the best part of his day. His smile was wide, showing teeth.

"Yes, I do."

"Which is?" He asked, stepping closer toward you. His smirk was a teasing grin now.

"The apple tree," you stated, that protectiveness creeping back into your tone. "at the farthest end of the orchard."

"Now," he said, voice lilted with mock impress, "I must see this tree, that you so fondly and regularly climb." His voice was a stage whisper.

"Alas, I cannot." You teased back, some what enjoying the banter yourself. "I do not simply show my tree to strangers."

"Ah, but I am not a stranger," he said, closer again now. "I am just George." He stuck his hand out again, waiting for you to shake it. Hesitantly, you did. "I would be honoured to see your tree."

"Do you not have business to attend to?" You asked, gesturing in the direction the other men and the Royal herd had walked in. George shook his head, waving off your remark.

"They are fine themselves. They have no use for my agreements here and questions there." He said. "And even so, if I were to re-join them now," he took another small step closer to you, eyes searching in the distance, "my mind would think of nothing but this apple tree at the farthest end of the orchard."

You smiled at the man as he looked down at you, and felt the strangest urge to lead him by the hand to your sacred reading spot. Something about George made you trust him, utterly and completely, as if you'd known him your whole life. As if you'd run through the fields with him as children, and he knew where the tree was already.

"All right, just George."

A bright, down right contagious smile etched itself on to his face. You couldn't help but smile just as brightly.

The two of you strode side by side through the back field of the farm, chatting idly as you lead him to the orchard. George told you he was a keen farmer himself, but his family bound him to the city. "Why don't you just leave them?" you asked as you opened the large wooden field gate for him.

George paused, leaning on the gate with both arms crossed. "It is not that simple," he said, his face contort in a frown. "I am obliged to stay there. It is a duty, of sorts." He looked around at the tall grass, the wild flowers that bloomed in the field at his feet. "If it were up to me, I would spend all my time in the country."

You felt immensely sorry for him. The thought of being away from the country for more than a day put a nasty pit in your stomach. Gently, you placed your hand on his arm. He looked up at you with glum eyes. You gave him your best reassuring smile as you squeezed his arm lightly. He smiled back at you.

You fell back into stride with one another after that. George asked about your family, and you told him about your father and your three younger sisters. He asked where they were, and you let out a haughty laugh. "They cower at the sight of mud. They are cooped inside with my mother, embroidering or learning the pianoforte or some other nonsense."

"You see no value in these tasks, then?" George asked with a small smirk.

"I see no point, given where we live. What use have I for musical impress or intricate sewing when I spend my time outdoors?" You paused your walking, gesturing to the cows grazing near by. "Any man I encounter in these parts will be as impressed by my pianoforte as those cows."

"Ah, I see." George chuckled to himself. "You are to be a spinster then." You whipped round to face him, annoyance turning your brows into a tight v shape. George laughed again.

"For a stranger you are certainly bold."

"I do not hear a defence."

"No, I am not to be a spinster." You crossed your arms, uncrossing them when George cocked his head to the side slightly. You must have looked ridiculous, like an petulant, spoilt child. You huffed.

"I am not to be a spinster. At least not by intention." You both began walking again, rounding the corner to the long aisle of the orchard. "There," you said, pointing to your tree at the very end.

You turned when George remained silent. His mouth was agape slightly, brown eyes wide and almost honey in the mid day sun. "Beautiful," he sighed out.

It caught you off guard, the strange desire to lead him by the hand to your tree and show him the very best branches. The way he looked at your favourite spot with such awe made you near desperate to share it with him. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching his hand that was inches from yours at your side. You shook your head slightly, as if a jitter would rid of of such peculiar feelings. "Come along, then."

George walked obediently at your side, keeping perfect pace with you. As you walked, he couldn't help but notice the sway of your hair in the light breeze, the way it framed your face so gently. Or the patches of freckles that spotted the bridge of your nose, or the subtle fullness of your bottom lip, how it was slightly larger than the top.

"You said you are not to be a spinster by choice," he began as you reached the foot of the tree. "Whatever do you mean?"

"What I mean is," you said as you reached up to a near branch, pulling yourself up with little struggle, "no man here is in need of a wife, and I am in no need for an elderly husband." You frowned when George laughed again. "You must stop that!" You cried.

"Stop what?" He smiled through his teeth again.

"Laughing at me!"

"I am not laughing at you, forgive me." He said, reaching up to the same branch and - just as you had- hauled him self up with ease. "I simply find it hard to believe no one here is in need of a wife."

"Everyone is already married, or too old, or far too young." You deadpanned. "I do not want to marry a frail old man."

"Let me rephrase," George began. He reached across you, and for a moment you thought he was going to touch your cheek. You sucked in a nervous breath. He plucked an apple that was hanging just above you ear. "I find it hard to believe no one here wants you for a wife."

You found it hard to form words, stuttering over a response. George bit into his apple , smugness radiating off of him in reams.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a moment, your backs leaning against the trunk of the tree while your legs stretched out next to each other. "Do you sit out here all day?" George asked softly, turning his head toward you. His breath fanned over your face slightly. You nodded.

"Most days," you sighed contently. "I am usually the one that goes into the towns if needed. Otherwise, I am left alone to sit here as I please." You looked out as the sheep roamed the field ahead of you.

George rested his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"I am envious of you, truly." He said, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You turned your head to face him. Your shoulders were brushing against each other with every breath.

"You are welcome to come here," you said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "You can bring a book, and you may sit here for as long as you like, whenever you please. Whenever your family allows you to be in the country."

This close to him, you noticed the flecks of gold in George's eyes. The small freckle above his eye brow. The rosiness of his cheeks. His words echoed in your head.

'I find it hard to believe no one wants you for a wife."

In the distance, you heard the ruckus of the men returning to the front of the house. George shot up. You shot up with him.

"I must go," he said hurriedly. He swung his legs over the branch and jumped off. As you moved to do the same, you saw him waiting on the ground with his hands outstretched. He was helping you down. You reached a hand out to him, and he pulled you down. Expecting a thud, you noticed he had steadied you with a hand on your waist. "I wish I could stay longer, I truly do. Alas, they will run like chickens without heads if I am not back soon."

You wished to find some poetic goodbye, but all you could muster was a soft sigh. "Will you be back?" His hand was still gripping yours.

George chuckled breathily.

"Of course," he said, as if it was obvious. "I must bring a book and see if this really is the best spot for reading."

The voices in the distance got louder, calling George's name now. He looked over his shoulder, then back to you. "I am back in the country in two weeks time. May I see you then?"

You smiled at his politeness, hoping your hasty nod came across as friendly and not desperate. "Of course."

"Splendid."

He brought your hand to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles. "It has been a pleasure, madam." He said with a gentlemanly bow.

He turned to walk away then, and you felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your feet were glued to the ground, unable to move you from that same spot.

"Oh," George called from a distance. "The inspection went fantastically. Your farm shall have a wonderful review." He grinned, all boyish and joyful, before turning back and sprinting in the direction of the loud voices.

His words only sunk in after he'd rounded the corner gate, and you nearly collapsed onto a log.

Not only had you spent your afternoon with a total stranger, telling him your deepest thoughts and secrets, scandalously close should a gossiping eye see it.

You'd just spent your afternoon with the King of England.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

This Love Came Back to Me (3)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, allusions of smut and potential full smut, stalking, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Three Word Count: 4.1K

Part Two

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You blinked awake slowly on Saturday morning to Bradley’s voice fading in your head. You touched your fingertips to your lips because you swore you could feel the faintest touch of a kiss from your dreams. It took a moment for the night before to flood back to you but when it did, a wide grin broke out on your face and you couldn’t stop yourself from turning your head to squeal into your pillow. 

Running into him had been the last thing you expected last night. You had been planning on grabbing drinks with your friend Anna and her new Navy boyfriend, only for them to cancel last minute. You had decided since you were already there that you would just grab a drink by yourself before going home. But then Paul had shown up out of nowhere. Again. You had been trying to escape when you caught sight of your ex-boyfriend across the bar. 

Truly, you don’t know what you were thinking, approaching him like you did. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him in months and even if you admittedly still harbored feelings for him, you had no right asking him for a favor now. But you had. And he went along with it willingly. Maybe even enthusiastically. 

And then he had asked, insisted, on buying you a drink. And one turned into two, and he was staring at you in a way that was so, so reminiscent of how he had looked at you back when you were dating. And after you had confessed that there hadn’t been anyone since him, he was kissing you. Not because you asked him to in a desperate attempt to trick an overly eager coworker, but because he wanted to. 

“Then why aren’t we still together, Bug?” 

You had wondered that often in the last seven months. Timing hadn’t been on your side back then, and despite how strongly you felt toward one another, neither of you had fought for it. It was a choice you had regretted since you made it.

The truth was, no one had ever made you feel the way Bradley Bradhaw did. You had resigned yourself to him being the one that got away, your “would’ve, should’ve, could’ve.” Even when he had wrapped his arm around you and led you out of the Hard Deck the previous night, following you home and then staying and talking with you for hours like no time at all had passed, you had wondered if it was too good to be true.

But then he had said that he didn’t want it to just be a one time thing, and you swore, your heart soared. You knew the two of you still had a lot to talk about, but for the first time in a while, you were feeling hopeful and excited. Even if the circumstances of the night didn’t start off the best.

Your smile slipped as Paul’s face flashed in your mind. 

Last night hadn’t been the first time he had randomly popped up in your space outside of work. You could convince yourself that the first few times at the grocery store had been nothing, since you often went to the one closest to the office during the week. And then the happy hours you could excuse as maybe he found out about it through other coworkers. But then two weekends ago, you had run into him outside of the gym where you did cycling and hot yoga. He had claimed he was looking into a membership, but where you went was an all women’s facility, and Paul was…not the gym type. Still, you had forced a smile and pretended to get a phone call and walked away before he could say much else, forcing yourself to brush it off as another weird coincidence. 

The Hard Deck, though..that was harder to explain. You lived nearly 30 minutes from the bar, and your office was 15 minutes in the opposite direction. There was no reason for him to be there, whatsoever. 

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts before you could go further down the rabbit hole. You reasoned that if it wasn’t for Paul appearing, you don’t know that if you would have ever run into Bradley again. You could leave it at that for now. 

Scrambling around in your sheets for your phone, your texts were still pulled up when you unlocked the device. You had messaged back and forth for a few minutes after Bradley had let you know he got home, his last reply wishing you sweet dreams. And oh, they certainly had been. He was the star in all of them. 

You bit your lip as you typed out a quick text to him, a simple Good morning 😊 before you climbed out of bed to go take a shower. He hadn’t responded by the time you were done or by the time you had made it through getting ready, but it was barely 9:00 on a weekend, and the two of you had been up quite late anyway, so maybe he was still sleeping. You refused to entertain the thought of him changing his mind; Bradley was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. 

You had just walked into your small kitchen to make something quick for breakfast when your doorbell rang. Your eyebrows furrowed together and the briefest hint of fear ran through you just as fast as it left. You weren’t expecting anyone today, especially this early. Your curtains were still pulled shut so no one could see inside, and figuring it was just a salesman of some sort doing old school door to door, you ignored it and went back to grabbing a piece of bread for toast. 

The doorbell rang again, followed by a quick knock, and you sighed in defeat. You kept your footsteps light as you made your way to the door and looked out the peephole. When you saw who was on the other side, you gasped and fumbled for the lock, throwing the door open.

“Bradley,” you breathed, “hi.” 

“Morning, Bug.” 

He was standing on your porch, all tall and handsome with two cups of coffee in hand. The way he was smiling at you made your heart skip a beat and the sound of the name only he called you had it beating faster all at the same time. You just stared at one another for a minute, not saying a word, before he raised an eyebrow.

“Can I come in?” 

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Yes, of course. Come in.” 

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you moved to the side. He laughed softly as he stepped through the doorway. He handed you one of the cups after you closed the door behind him. 

“What are you doing here so early?” you asked. 

“Well, I was up really early this morning. And I know that you used to go to the farmer’s market across town on Saturday. We mentioned maybe seeing each other today, so I figured I would grab us coffee and then maybe go with you, if you’re going? Do you still go? I’m sorry, maybe I should have asked fir-”

You cut off his rambling by stepping into his personal space and wrapping your free hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face down to yours. You pressed your lips to his as sparks shot through you. 

He remembered. 

“I still go,” you told him. “And I’d love for you to go with me.” 

There was the faintest pink tint to his cheeks that made you want to squeal, knowing it was you who put it there. In an effort to contain it, you took a sip of the coffee he had brought you. It tasted exactly like what you always ordered, and truly, you didn’t know how you were going to avoid spontaneously combusting at how happy you were right now that he was here and seemed to remember everything.  

“Breakfast?” you asked. You winced at how high pitched your voice was and hoped he hadn’t noticed. “I was about to make toast.” 

“I’m starving,” he admitted, “but I was thinking we could grab something while we were there? Do they still have that bakery stand?” 

____

Much to his chagrin, you beat Bradley at handing your card over to pay for the breakfast sandwiches and croissants. You smirked proudly at him as you took a bite. After you were done eating, you strolled around the large outdoor farmers market where different vendors spread out throughout the open space. It was crowded this morning so you shuffled closer together to avoid running into anyone. Halfway through, he had wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you directly into his side instead. You continued with your conversation without skipping a beat. He hadn’t stopped touching you since - a hand on the small of your back when you were sorting through apples, lacing his pinkie with yours when the aisles for the fresh bread stall were too slim for him to walk beside you. 

It was the best Saturday morning that you could remember. 

“I could go for another coffee,” Bradley said as you tried to decide if you wanted both green and red peppers. “Do you want one?” 

“I’ll take one,” you confirmed with a smile. 

He kissed your forehead before he walked away, promising to be back quickly. You watched his back until he’s out of sight and let out a long, happy sigh. You knew you still needed to have a serious conversation with him, but you couldn’t help but think about how you could get used to spending every Saturday morning like this.

Just like you had told him, you selected the peppers you wanted (green, red, and yellow) and then made your way over to the next produce section you were looking for. You were consulting one of the recipes you were planning on making that week when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned to look over your shoulder. There was an older couple at the table next to you, and a young mother with her son not too far behind you, but they were all focusing on themselves. You glanced around, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. You tried to focus back on the food in front of you, but the prickling sensation in your brain stayed firmly present; you felt like someone was watching you, but you were sure it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Still, that uneasy feeling in your stomach continued to grow. 

You quickly grabbed the last of what you were after and made your way to the pay area, forcing a smile on your face for the older lady running it. Once she handed you your receipt, you stepped out of the tent the stall was under and scanned the area, trying again to see if you could find the source of this nagging feeling. 

You took a deep breath to try and center yourself. Goosebumps erupted over your skin and your nose scrunched up when you caught the faintest hint of what smelled like cheap locker room cologne that you swore you had smelled before. You looked to your right where you thought it was coming from, but it was still so crowded with people and no one met your eye or stood out. You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if maybe you had just listened to one too many true crime podcasts this week and were just being paranoid. 

You jumped when you felt a brush against your arm, whipping your head around.

“Bradley,” you breathed, putting a hand over your heart, feeling it pound against your palm. You had been so distracted that you hadn’t seen him approaching, but the man in question was right there at your side, close enough to touch.

“Sorry,” Bradley apologized, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s okay,” you assured, even as your pulse continued to race. You took a deep breath, this time catching the scent of something that was purely Bradley, and you couldn’t resist breathing in again as you felt the tension you had been feeling leave your body. 

The man in question was giving you a concerned look, forehead crinkled in worry. Before he could question anything, though, you caught sight of a colorful bouquet of flowers tucked under his arm. 

“Oh,” you said softly, “are those for me?” 

Seeing where your eyes were, Bradley’s face morphed into something more gentle, a smile tugging at his lips. 

He handed you a coffee first, freeing up a hand to grab the assortment wrapped in cellophane to hold out to you as well. You bit your lip as you took them, feeling that same giddiness from earlier come back in spades. He took your canvas bag full of purchases as you brought the bouquet up to your nose, delighting in the floral hitting your senses. 

“They’re beautiful,” you told him, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Bug. Wanna keep looking around?” 

He held out his arm and you looped yours through it easily. You let your head rest against his bicep for a moment as the two of you started weaving your way through the crowd. It didn’t take long to get lost in his presence again and completely forget about the uneasiness that had momentarily distracted you. 

It had been cloudy all morning, though the forecast hadn’t called for any rain. So when the sky completely opened up right after you threw away your empty coffee cups about fifteen minutes later, a sound of surprise escaped your lips. Bradley cursed under his breath as people immediately began taking shelter where they could under vendor tents and awnings.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the rain. When you nodded, he gripped your hand tightly and the two of you made a mad dash toward the parking lot. You nearly slipped several times, but Bradley always steadied you, never letting you fall. By the time you made it to the Bronco, you were drenched. 

He opened the passenger side door, the grocery bags and flowers finding a home on the floorboards before he held out a hand to help you in, but you were too distracted to notice. His hair was plastered to his forehead and raindrops were caught in his mustache. Even standing soaking wet in the rain, huffing from the impromptu jog, this man was breathtaking. You couldn’t help the giddy laughter that bubbled out of you. You took his offered hand, but instead of letting him boost you into the seat, you tugged him closer, reaching up to thread your fingers through his sopping hair. 

“Bug, what-” 

You kissed him before he could finish.

Bradley didn’t hesitate to return it. His large hands cupped your wet cheeks without missing a beat, his mouth opening against yours. He tasted like coffee and raindrops and something simply just him that was more addicting than anything else could be. 

The rain poured down on you the entire time you stood there at the open car door. It wasn’t until a loud crack of thunder came from the sky that you pulled away. You were both breathing heavily, but his smile was just as wide as what you knew yours was. 

———

When Bradley finally pulled into the driveway of your little rental house, you could have groaned in relief. You had checked the weather app on the drive back, and unexpected thunderstorms were on the radar for the rest of the day. You were looking forward to taking these wet clothes off and maybe jumping in a hot shower to rid yourself of the chill that had soaked into your bones. 

“I can throw your clothes in the dryer when we get inside. I might have a pair of sweatpants laying around that will fit you, but I’m not certain. We can figure something out.” 

You unbuckled your seatbelt and bent at the waist to gather the bags at your feet, but when Bradley didn’t say anything, you turned to look at him. He hadn’t moved to turn the engine off or get out. You swallowed thickly, straightening back up. 

“Were you…not planning on coming in?” you asked slowly. 

The look on his face was sheepish. “I didn’t want to assume that I could.” 

Your heart thudded a little faster at the consideration and control he was giving you. It came back to you, then, how you and Bradley still had so much to discuss and figure out. Between last night and this morning and how natural it felt being around him, it was so easy to forget that you weren’t together, that you hadn’t been in several months. The hesitation he was suddenly showing made you think that perhaps he was thinking the exact same thing. 

“‘I’d love for you to come inside, B,” you told him softly, “I think…we have a lot to talk about. So I want you to come inside. But only if you do, too?” 

A beat passed as the two of you stared at each other, and you were sure his mind was moving as quickly as yours. But after a moment, a smile crept on his handsome face, the faded scars tugging with the motion. He unbuckled himself and stretched to reach into the backseat to retrieve a Navy emblazoned backpack. His cheeks tinted pink when he saw your raised eyebrows. 

“Spare gym clothes,” he explained sheepishly.

He reached over and squeezed your hand before he pulled the keys from the ignition and then grabbed the door handle, looking at you expectantly. “Ready to make a run for it?” 

You took turns using your shower, Bradley insisting that you go first. You kissed his cheek once you were done and he passed you on the way into the bathroom. You settled on the couch and took the few minutes that he was in the shower to think over what it was you wanted to say to him. You wondered if it was a conversation you should have now, or if you could stretch the day out more before risking bursting the bubble you had been in with each other for the last 18 hours. You were confident that you both wanted to make things work, but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle things starting up just to end up the same as they did last time. You felt like things were different now, more hopeful and sure, and you were pretty sure he did, too. 

God, you really hoped he did. 

You chewed the skin on the side of your thumb as the anticipation built. You were so caught up in your own head that you didn’t realize how much time had passed. Seeing Bradley walk out of your bedroom in a plain black tee and gray joggers had your pulse racing and your mind whirling even more. He made his way to you with that kind, soft smile on his face that made you dizzy. 

“Do you want to watch-” 

“I wish we would have tried harder,” you blurted out. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth when you realized what you had said. Bradley froze in his tracks a few feet away. You watched as surprise flickered over his features before he shook himself out of it. He took a silent but deep breath and settled himself on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of you. His bulky frame was so close that your knees touched. 

“I think-I-” Bradley cut himself off with a shake of his head and another deep breath.  You could tell he was trying to gather his thoughts, so even though you were buzzing with nervous energy now that you had just spewed those words out without warning, you gave him all the time he needed. 

“Yes,” he finally said, “I do too.” 

“Why didn’t we?” you brought yourself to ask. You snapped the hair tie on your wrist, the first time you had done it all day. Bradley reached out and laid a hand over yours before you could do it again. 

“I think it’s true that the timing sucked because of how busy we both got right there at the beginning. And I think we both took the easy way out instead of pushing through it and potentially getting hurt. Looking back, that really backfired. We may not have hurt each other, but we hurt ourselves.” 

You nodded slowly. His reasoning made sense, even if it stung. You smiled ruefully. “We’re idiots.” 

He huffed out a laugh and laced your fingers together. “Yes. We are.” 

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you considered your next words carefully. You were so nervous to say them, because you were scared that neither of you would have a good answer. “What makes this time any different?” 

Bradley’s brown eyes had been staring at your joined hands, but they snapped up to yours at the question. With a sigh, he shifted off the coffee table and sat beside you on the couch in one smooth movement. He tugged on the hand he was still holding. “Come here, Bug.”

At his urging, you maneuvered yourself so you were in his lap, your knees setting into the cushions on either side of him. Your hands rested on his strong shoulders as he wrapped his arms around you completely, pulling you even closer, but still with enough distance to be able to look directly into your eyes. 

“I don’t know for sure that this time will work.” 

Your whole body tensed, but Bradley kept his arms locked around you and started speaking again before you could try and bolt. 

“But I also know what it’s felt like to not have you in my life for the last seven months. I never thought I’d get a second chance with you, and I had accepted that I’d always think of you with a little bit of regret and a lot of what ifs. But then last night happened, and then this morning…I meant it when I said I wanted more than just a night. I know we should take more time and that maybe this is moving too fast, and who knows what will happen in the future, but I want to try to make things work this time. I don’t want to give up on us again. I just…I want another chance with you, Bug.” 

Bradley’s eyes were so earnest as they stared into yours. His face was completely open, showing every ounce of honesty and vulnerability. His words were steady and passionate and god, you believed him. 

“I want that too,” you breathed.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you nodded rapidly. You were feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible, like your heart was about to explode. 

You wanted him, and he wanted you, and you would try this time. 

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours and whispering, “If I were a smarter man, I never would have let you go to begin with.”

You crashed your lips to his with a whimper. Bradley didn’t hold back, taking all that you gave him and giving you even more in return. It was a clash of tongue and teeth and he swallowed all the sounds you made. You only pulled away when breathing became an issue, but he didn’t stray. As you gasped for breath, he kissed down your neck. You tilted your head to make it easier on him, delighting in how his mouth felt against your skin. 

His hands settled on your behind, squeezing the flesh through the spandex of your leggings. The arch of your back caused your core to thrust down into his hardening length from your spot on his lap. You couldn’t help but moan his name and tug on his hair. 

“Bradley.” His lips released your skin with a pop and you guided his swollen lips back to your own. “I need you.” 

“You have me, baby.” 

“Take me to bed,” you pleaded breathlessly, lacing your fingers together behind his neck as you kissed him, “please, B.” 

He stood from the couch with you still in his arms. Your bedroom was right off the small living room and he barely pulled his mouth from yours as he navigated the both of you there. 

You may not have fought as hard as you should have the first time, but you’d be damned if you made that mistake twice. 

----

Part Four :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: Thank you so much for the feedback on the first two parts! I hope you enjoyed this one just as much. Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more, and I am super excited about part four, so show this one some love🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

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[slickchickchocolatier]

T̴̶̨̨̢̛͇̱̙̭̳͚̼͍̪̮͔̯͍͎͔͔̽̿͊ͥͨ͗ͬͧ͑̓̌̓ͫ͋̇̂̈́̀͘͠͞͠ḩ̵̶̧͈̜͇͖̮͚̟͉̝̤̘̹̬̎̍͊͑̋͌͂̏͒̾̇̌ͩ́͂͛͊̾̂ͩ̀͆̓ͮ̚̚͢͢͠ë͍́̾ͭ O̶̼͚͐̌́ͦ́͆͋̌͡t̷̴̴̩͓͍͔̣͖̟͈͕̰̱ͨ́͛̾̎͐̽͐͑͒̏ͮ̃̀͂ͧ̔̾̚͘͘͢͠͝͡͡ͅh̥͉͂ę̜̮̱͕̟̘ͧ̄̃ͣ̋ŗ̢͔̖͎̪͚͇͕̩͖̹͒ͮͬ̎̃̽͆ͫ̏ͩ̀͆̇ͬͣ̃̄̚͟s̸̴̶̨͇̣͈̪͕̯̺̮͇ͦ̏̓ͤ͛ͥ͑̆̋̏ͦ̀̊̃͢_̢̛͍̖̩̞̬ͨj͇͓͚̝͑̇̊̒͐ͥ́̚͞ḍ̵̵̸̡̨̧̢̛͉̣̜̗̦̫̮̪̰͂̌̃̌̽̀̌́͑̏̑̂̊ͯͩ̀̊͌͆ͬ͛ͧ̑ͦ̉̕͟͝͝ẽ̸̸̢̖͕͙̦̄ͭͪ̈̊̈͐̂͝

CHAPTER FIVE

The Otherside Chapter 5 here!!!! If you wish to be added to the Taglist, please let me know. If you’ve already asked and are not on it, please give me a reminder, it’s been a while since I’ve posted the previous chapter.

Warnings: reader gets attacked, attempted r@pe, stalking, mentions of death through torturous acts, rough home life, parental neglect, sibling rivalry, death threats, some cursing, and I think that’s it.

The park looked too enticing to merely walk pass. With the full moon peeling in between the trees, you just had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the brightened night sky. A lonesome bench offers the perfect view of the scenery and so, you rest your gift bag to the side as you perch yourself and sit nearly over the curved edge and admire the glorious pearl in the sky.

Not long after you sat down, your mind drifts away as you are reminded of the harsh reality of coming home to an ignorant mother and shameful father. As a daughter, you loved them and hoped they would become better, but as fate would have it, they would continue to let you down as you witnessed the constant habit of them choosing to be better parents for your elder brother. Some days, you really try to see it from their perspective, yet at the end of the day, the chapters in your story end the same. Your brother got away with everything….everything. He abused the trust and goodliest trait of all around him. There were countless times when you came to witness his terrible deeds or capture sustained evidence of his unlawful ways; whether it be theft, fibbing, or drug use, yet due to the persona he portrayed in front of open eyes, no one would ever believe you whenever you presented the proof. Nobody could ever believe that the local church boy preparing for college would ever do such terrible deeds. So much for knowing “thy neighbor”. The worst was when your mother responded so carelessly as you displayed the video evidence of him stealing money from your wallet, no doubt to pay for his drug habits. Despite the act being caught in plain sight, her unusual response of “I will talk to him, and the Lord will take care of the rest.” Was the most disappointing thing you ever did hear. Then of course there was your father who claimed that his son would never do such a thing, and even dared to accuse you of conspiring against his only son. That’s right, “his only son”, the ultimate statement that gave constant reminder that in your dads eyes, his son wasn’t your brother, how could he be if you were never accepted as a daughter?

Maybe the troubling home life is a blessing. After all, it was all that motivates you to earn decent grades, and apply to numerous universities; you should be hearing back from one of them any day now, and once you do, you’ll take your packed bags and hike your way into adulthood. You’ll get a part time job to pay for your living expenses and continue to study hard and get through this life, while never looking back. Since you had come to accept that the family you were born with could never find love in their hearts for you, you reserved all of your heart for yourself. Perhaps someday you’ll find someone who is worthy of it.

Lost in your thoughts, you remained distracted under the stressful circumstances of your family life, so much that you failed to hear the unknown man sneaking up behind. Your view of the moon is suddenly enclosed by complete darkness as you feel a pair of strong hands covering them and blocking your screams. You kick and attempt to peel his fingers off as he lifts you from the bench and rams you into the grassy ground. The person was not gentle, you felt your knees, shoulders, elbows, and back being scrape as you roughed you up and straddled atop your frame. You struggled as you found it hard to breathe with his hands blocking your airways. Finally he exposes his voice as he leans in and through a clenched jaw, he grits out his warning. “Stop moving or I’ll fucking slit your throat.” With a cold metal edge of what you suspected to be a knife, he presses it against your delicate skin, just underneath your jaw.

You refrained from making any sudden movements, only admitting a gentle nod as you complied with his order. “Good. Now stay still.” He demands as he begins to unbutton your blouse. You panicked internally but calmed yourself as you wait for the perfect moment to make a striking move that would allow you to get away. Said opportunity presents itself as you felt him ease his grip over your mouth just as he was placing his disgusting mouth over your exposed chest. With a swift knee to his shaft, you rammed the bone edge of your joint as hard as you could, rendering him to toss over and groan in agonizing pain.

Quickly, you turn over and lift yourself from the ground as you stumble for balance. Lightheaded and dizzy, the limited air flow had caused you to nearly pass out. Had you not made your move in time, you surely would have passed out. As you level your feet, you lean forward and prepared for take off as your body develops a swift running stance, when you felt the man’s hands grab on to your ankle. With a harsh pull towards his chest, your body’s momentum fails you as your chest falls to the ground, knocking the breath out of your chest. He roughly turns you over and once again, straddles your waist line as he pinches his knees to close you in. You watched as he raised the knife above head, ready to strike down and deliver a finishing blow. Your breathing escalates as your eyes frown fearfully. With his words, you scream out as you’re about to meet your demise. “Stupid little bitch!”

You wince your eyes shut and turn to face away. The sudden burst of stingy tears squeezed out from the corners of your eyes drip along the contour of your cheek, providing the only warmth you could possibly feel at that moment.

The sounds of choked up gasps caused you to slowly open your eyes and face forward. You could feel your brows raise in confusion, but migrate to sudden shock as you witness a clear view of the man’s throat. It was all you could see and yet you were able to ascertain that something was pulling the man’s head back, far back.

“W-w-wha-at….the fffuck!” The man was barely able to spew out as he struggled to speak and breathe. Inch by inch, you saw his head being peeled back. Whoever it was that had a hold on him definitely had the intention of snapping his neck in half.

With the man struggling for release, you felt his hand gripped around your neck tightening. You wiggle around, attempting to remove his hand while the other still grips the blade above your face. Suddenly, a deep voice comes from behind your would be killer. It was calm and flared a peculiar accent. “Let go of her neck, otherwise I’ll break yours.”

Another man? And he came to save you? How lucky for you! Though it was too soon to act joyful as you felt the grip around your throat pinching tightly. You felt your throat closing inward as you found yourself unable to breathe. Pounding against the man’s chest, your eyes develop tunnel vision when finally, the weight of his body is drastically lifted from you. Laying in a dazed and confused state, your narrowed vision allows you to look at your savior. He wore a mask, with a jean jacket under a black vest. A black cap covered most of his hair, with only the wispy ends peeking from underneath. He throws the man off to the side. The heaving rise and fall of his chest tells you of his immaculate strength as he resorted to using his upper body weight to lift the other man and toss him over as if he was nothing. For one second, his face turns down over to you, where your eyes meet briefly.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Is all he tells you before he takes his step and disappears from your view. You barely had any strength to move as your body recovers from the fatigue from the loss of oxygen. Your hearing on the other hand seemed to work fine as you listened in on the muffled screams of your attacker. It all faded as you finally succumbed and drift off to a state of unconsciousness.

You awoke in a darkened room, enclosed by silk and warmth, a total contrast from the environment you were in earlier. Despite not being able to see, you were able to ascertain that you were on a pillow top bed in what appeared to be a sky rise apartment, as deduced by the massive window view of the bustling streets and flashy media billboards on the neighboring towers. Whoever it was that saved and brought you back certainly was a person with great affluence. The comfort of the room enticed you to remain however, you knew you had to get up and grasp some answers.

Getting up, you realize that your phone was missing. More than likely it fell out of your pocket at the park during the struggle. Maybe your rescuer will take you back and help you find it.

You open the door and admire the main living room. Just like the bedroom, it has an impressive row of large windows that view the entire city.

“Wow…” you breathed out as you witnessed the apartment being lit up by the outside lights. What a fabulous place to live in.

Tip toeing into the main area, you looked around trying to find your shoes, but no luck. You peeked into all the bathrooms, guest bedrooms, and even inside the kitchen cabinets but to no avail were you able to find them. Strange.

The night view of the city captured your attention as you pondered the whereabouts of your shoes. The beauty of the starry sky hovering over bright city lights seized your attention for much longer than what you had anticipated. You lightly jump as you hear quiet footsteps from behind.

Snapping around, your eyes meet him once again. “It’s you…” you quietly murmured as he stepped into the light.

“Yeah…it’s me.” He responds back while licking his lip.

“You’re the one that…well, you saved me from that man earlier.”

He chuckles at your prospective point as his hands remain tucked into his jean pockets, causing for her his shoulders to shrug slightly. “Heh…yeah.”

His voice was so deep and alluring.

“Well…thank you.” You lightly chuckled. Without his mask you were able to see just how handsome he was. He appeared to be Asian, perhaps Japanese? Chinese? Or maybe Korean. Either way, he was perfectly sculpted and well built. “What was your name?” You ask shyly as you took notice of his intense eye contact.

“Jake. Aaaand you?” The way he drew out his tone and playfully pushed out his request caused you to melt. You’ve never seen anyone with such intense sex appeal. “It’s…y/n.”

“Huh…I dig the name.” His tongue rolls offensively in his mouth as his lips part open, allowing you to view the act.

“Could I ask you a question?” You propel shyly once again. “Sure.”

You take up on his answer and politely asked him about a stumbling thought that suddenly hit you. “Can I ask how you knew I was in trouble? The park was large and it was so empty. Did you know that man that attacked me?”

Your question was out of pure curiosity, not at all suspicious. It’s not uncommon for a person to walk alone at the park, even at night. But you had a gut feeling that it wasn’t just pure luck that your savior happened to be at the exact location at the right time. You smiled lightly as you felt yourself being quite smitten with the man before you.

“I didn’t know him…but I knew of his intentions.” He calmly breathes out. You nod lightly as you chuckled. “Oh so you must be a detective or something.” You playfully pushed out, yet the sincerity was genuine as you really had thought that the man was investigating the attacker. It wasn’t until he shook his head, your brows furrowed in slight confusion. “Oh…well how did you know then?” You asked, formulating a slight smile as you yearned to hear out the explanation.

“The look in his eye.”

You shift your gaze from left to right before making it back to center. You were so confused by his vague statement, you urged him to elaborate. “The look?”

“Yeah, the look.”

He remained evasive to give closure, which caused you to feel a little uneasy as you noticed his steps forward. “That same one that I get…from time to time.”

You piece the code of his wordings all too quickly, yet you felt frozen as he closes the distance. With a terrible feeling in your gut, you listen as he continues to enlighten you with his shuttering voice.

“As many times as I get that feeling…that look in my eye…it always came with the intention of taking something valuable away. I violate and plunge to destroy their minds endlessly…but with you-“

He pauses as he reaches up and softly punches your hair, rubbing them together. “This is the first time I’ve wanted to give…and build something beautiful.”

His hazy look showed you that the man seemed to be in lust or smitten. But it was also dangerous, and the meaning of his words told you of his intentions. You backed away, trying to figure out your next move as you find it impossible to believe that you went from one attacker to seemingly another. “D-don’t…wait…just-“ you stutter out as Jake predicted your movements. With force and strength, he grips your arms and levitates your entire weight in mid air as he lays you down on the couch. His movements were much more gentle than the previous attackers. He even went so far as to gently trail his fingertips along your scrapes, which he had cleaned while you were unconscious.

“Poor babygirl…he hurt you, huh?”

You wiggled and tried to break free as he hovered above. Leaning into your ear, he whispers a deadly conclusion of the other man’s end. “He‘s never going to hurt you again, Princess.”

Your movements come to a pause as you look at him confused and shocked. Watching as Jake bit down on his lip, he smiles deviously as he proceeds to fill you in.

“I made him promise not to.”

You breathed cautiously as you eagerly asked. “…what…did you do?”

Unexpectedly, his words told you of a different ending than what the previous has led you to believe.

“I killed him anyway. You can’t trust a man like that, believe me.”

Burrowing his head into your neck, you felt the sweet kisses of his lips as you screamed out, trying to break free from the developing grasp he formed around your wrists. He continued on as you squirmed from under him. “I tore his mouth apart, and pissed in it. I did it for what he was trying to do to you…babygirl…”

You panic as you kick into open air, he was so much more strategic with his hold and movements that he left no part of him vulnerable to your creativity. “No one is ever going to hurt you. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe. I’m going to keep you. I’ll make you happy….as long as you make me happy.”

You felt his tongue trailing over your collarbone as his large hand took hold on both of yours. Pinning them over your head, he unbuttons your blouse and unzips your jeans. “Stop!” You cry out.

“You belong to me. I'm never going to let anyone touch you like that…the way you have me feeling right now…you wicked girl.”

Raising his head, he pinches your chin with his two fingers as he levels your vision with his. A dangerous smirk on his face tells you of a heated passion, lust, desire and even love…but not the type that you read in romance stories or saw in movies. No. This was a type of sentiment that was full of conflict, chaos, and poison…coming from him, it was going to be deadly.

With a few strokes of his thumb, he softly tells you…

“Just relax baby…I’m not going to treat you like the others. You deserve better…you deserve the world, and I’m about to give it to you.”

Taglist: @nshmrarki , @lprww , @baekxo07 , @m7omo@nikstrange@heeshees@moonmoongi@heesitation@heeseung-min @nctsslut @heeseung-min @addictedtohobi

[gerec]

hi geric <3 can you rec some fics that deal with the first time in some way?

So there are probably thousands of fics about Cherik's first time - assuming you mean first time having sex - so it's difficult to give you anything but a very short list from so many possibilities! Hopefully, you're enjoy these personal favourites, Anon :D

First time post Cuba/paralysis

Sharing by ikeracity

One night during the mutant road trip, Erik knocks on Charles's door and brusquely demands to be taken to bed. Charles, who has been very careful about staying out of Erik’s head, is disoriented by the haunted look in Erik’s eyes but is ultimately swayed by the fact that they’ve had this burgeoning tension between them since forever.

They then proceed to have The Saddest And Worst Sex Ever. Erik stalks off all humiliated and unhappy and Charles is confused until he works out that Erik was a virgin--at which point Charles feels equal parts guilty and furious that Erik's basically used him as an instrument of self-harm.

The next time it happens, Charles teaches Erik what it means to really make love.

Does It Feel Like This When by helens78

Erik keeps everything -- body, mind -- under wraps, leaving Charles no choice but to find other outlets for his desires. When those desires cut a little too close to home, though, everything comes out into the open.

you follow and i'll lead by pearl_o, pocky_slash

When Charles discovers how frustrated and self-conscious his best friend Erik is about his ignorance about sex, he's eager to volunteer to help teach him and practice. Charles might not have any more direct experience than Erik, but he does have a telepath's mind full of accidentally picked-up fantasies and memories, as well as knowledge of a few dirty books - and more importantly, he's been madly in love with Erik for years. This seems like a brilliant, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that he can't pass up.

Now he just needs to manage to keep his feelings in check, and not ruin their friendship forever.

First Meeting In Paradise by helens78

Erik meets a stranger while on a vacation to a mutant-friendly resort in Kauai. When Erik thinks "Your place or mine?", the stranger says, "Mine."

Love, in fire and blood by Black_Betty

Erik used his body as a tool in all ways, but it had always been as a means for destruction. He did not know how to be soft or tender, and had never had use for gentleness before.

Until Charles.

One Drink High by a_q

Erik is an alpha who has never been with an omega before. He likes sex as much as the next person, but he has other priorities in life. So when a younger, very experienced, very forward, and just a little slutty omega sets his sight on Erik, he finds out what he has been missing.

Each Day Starts White by kianspo

Somewhere in the middle of the road trip to recruit more mutants, Charles and Erik get caught up in a storm. That's how it begins, but it's not how it ends. It takes them about thirty years to discover that Genoshan sunrises are beautiful.

A Winter in New York by nextraordinaire

Charles and Erik have been childhood friends for as long as they can remember – Erik, living with his mother in Queens, and Charles in the big mansion in Westchester. For all, expect themselves, it was just natural progression that they'd end up together.

[seraphdreams]

If you do can you write Yandere Tokyo revengers characters pls?? Like with Izana/Mikey/whoever watching someone flirt with s/o and they're low-key losing it. If not that's okay and I hope you have a good day. ☺️

izana x gn!reader.

contains. yandere themes, guns, gender-neutral reader, stalking, slight manipulation (??), slight sexual themes.

ser’s note. this is like the first time i ever wrote izana, i’m sorry if he’s ooc!

you were never close with kurokawa izana, only exchanging one or two words with him every so often while you worked as one of his many assistants. you were a busy thing, not having the time to be caught up in his antics or the business he partakes in. yet to him, you were so much more. hours would pass by when izana would think of just how perfect you are, how you weren’t as uppity as the others around him, and just as sweet as his favorite drink.

to him, you were in love.

he took it upon himself to try and get closer with you. he’d call you in to work more hours, give you personal tasks, and even arrange a lunch session for the two of you. at first, you thought this was his way of getting used to his new employee but that suspicion hastily died down.

izana already knew any and every thing about you. he knew what time you woke up, what you ate for breakfast, the shops that you’d frequent — he knew it all; and he wasn’t ashamed of that. that’s what lovers do, right?

he had gotten into the habit of stalking you after a little business party had managed to get you too intoxicated to drive yourself home. izana had taken that opportunity to be cordial with you, get your address so that he knew it like the back of his hand and relish in the sight of you so unkempt. lovers see themselves at their most vulnerable, yes?

after that incident, you hadn’t noticed how often izana was around, merely because he was dexterous at concealing his presence. everyday at the same time for the past month, he’d get accustomed to your routines until there was a little disturbance that angered him more than any traitor.

“sorry i had you come by on such short notice, i’ve been so busy.” you say as you let some man inside your abode. to izana, he was some roguish individual, he looked as though he had no regard for you, and you allowed your guard to be down! if it was him, he’d never allow such a thing to happen. you led the man somewhere throughout your home, possibly the bedroom where izana found an opening to step inside your place since you so conveniently forgot to lock the front door.

he found solace in hiding behind a tall, slovenly houseplant while continuing to spy in on your conversation.

“it’s been a while since i’ve done this, i hope you don’t mind.” said the man. from those words alone, izana could only so much as guess what types of ordeals he was up to.

was he coming over for sex? to hookup?

either way, izana wouldn’t let that happen. he’s about you, he loves you. he’s the one to take your presumed innocence, not anyone else. yet, he keeps himself composed, slowly finding another spot to conceal himself in.

a few moments of silence pass by until izana’s interest is once again piqued.

“down there?” — “yeah, right there.”

the exchange has his heart rate bludgeoning and he knows for sure if he doesn’t stop whatever’s going on, that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life, he’ll regret it. he steadily makes his way to your room where he catches sight of that awful scum of a man with his body hovering over yours as you lay sprawled out on your bed.

like second nature, izana whips out the gun from his pocket, firing off a few warning shots that caused the man to jump from his previous position. izana lined the weapon to the man’s forehead, emotionless purple eyes boring into droopy brown ones. “mr. kurokawa?” you questioned, huddle up amongst your pillows, trying to minimize yourself as much as possible. “lay another finger on my baby and i’ll blow your brains out, y’hear me?”

maybe if it wasn’t too late, you could’ve explained that you had scheduled an appointment with an at-home trainer who was just helping you stretch your body out before working out, but as you know, your boss was extremely trigger happy.

with the shock that settled into you, it wasn’t hard to mold your malleable mind into some warped perception of the whole situation. you had genuinely believed izana did this all for you, to protect you because he sees dangers far better than you can. he had convinced you that the man in your house didn’t have your best interest at heart. he was just a con, like any other man.

you don’t need anyone else besides izana, and he’ll make sure of that.

[praetorqueenreyna]

Welcome to the PQR gift giving extravaganza!!! I wrote some fics for some of my fandom friends as part of a gift exchange; expect a fic (almost) every day for the next week! This first one is for @goforth-ladymidnight, my co-runner for Tamlin Week and one of my favorite people ever!! She has spoiled me with a Tamlin/Lucien fic, which you should definitely check out! Briar/Tamlin is one of her favorite ships, so hopefully I did it justice!

Read here on AO3, or continue reading below.

Briar’s father practically kicked her out of the shop. “Are you sure you don’t need help?” she asked, even as she was halfway out the door.

“Yes yes, I’m not that old,” he snapped with false irritability. “You go enjoy yourself, and I mean it.” He closed the door to his shop behind her, and she could hear the dramatic thunk of the lock falling into place. She shook her head and grinned to herself. Normally she helped her father clean up and close his shop, ever since his back had started seizing up. But he knew how much she loved the local harvest festival, and was forcing her to go.

On the way to the village square, she combed her fingers through her thick hair. She frowned at the blood caked under her fingernails and stopped at the side of the river to thoroughly scrub her hands before continuing. Music and the chatter of joyful voices reached her long before the festival was in sight. The square was beautifully decorated with dried vegetation, stalks of wheat, and gourds. Vendors lined the edges of the square, offering food and drink and trinkets. The harvest festival was Briar’s favorite time of the year. Especially now that her father was relying on her more and more, and she had less time to socialize.

As she approached one of the stands, the large man ladling out cups of steaming hot apple cider caught sight of her. His face split into a massive grin. “Little rose! Long time no see!”

“Hello Ric,” Briar greeted. She had spent much of her childhood running around the orchard that Ricaud owned with his wife. “How’s Benji?”

Ric rumbled with laughter. “Bigger and feistier than ever. Can barely keep him out of the damn trees.” However much he complained, Ric clearly adored his son. He passed her an earthenware mug full of the fragrant cider, waving her away as she reached for her money pouch. “Don’t even think about it. Just glad to see you out and about.”

It was true, Briar had not been out much since her mother had passed several years before. She tired of the pitying glances from the others, the way they treated her like a fragile piece of glass. Not to mention her father had been overwhelmed by grief and work, and needed her in his shop to keep a roof over their heads. This was one of the reasons she liked Ric so much. He didn’t talk down to her or murmur about what a poor young thing she was. He treated her as he always had.

Briar wandered through the festival, taking in the merry atmosphere with the mug cradled between her hands. She spent a few minutes at a glassblowing booth, where an apprentice was creating a sculpture for an audience. Entranced, she marveled at how the apprentice manipulated the molten glass as if it were clay, pulling and stretching and turning it until a glorious swan was cooling in front of him. The apprentice caught her eye and smiled as though greeting an old friend. A moment later, Briar realized that she did recognize him, though she couldn’t recall his name. They were the same age and had grown up in the village together, part of a group of children that ran and played with little adult supervision. She hadn’t seen him in ages. The reminder of her isolation made her wistful, and she left the booth before he could try to talk to her.

She made her way towards the center of the square. A ragtag group of musicians was playing together, a rollicking cacophony of instruments and foot stomping. A small group had started dancing in front of the musicians. Briar settled herself at the edge of the crowd, content to simply observe. Most of the musicians were somewhat familiar to her, but she had never seen the fiddle player before. He was tall and dressed plainly, though even from a distance Briar could tell that his clothing was high quality and well made. His long blond hair, woven through with flowers, flowed loosely around his shoulders. Although he played along with the other musicians, his talent far exceeded theirs. He played the fiddle like it was an extension of himself, the bow dancing across the strings in an exquisite tune.

Her attention was dragged away from the fiddle player by a tap on the shoulder. The glassblower's apprentice, having extricated himself from his booth, held out a hand in a silent request. There was nothing lascivious in his gaze, just friendly warmth and quiet confidence. Briar accepted his hand and allowed him to twirl her into the growing crowd of dancers. It soon became clear that neither of them had any knack for dancing, which sent them both giggling. They struggled through the song, jumping and kicking in a ridiculous manner. The song ended and they let go of each other’s hands to applaud. Briar was red and breathless, feeling lighter than she had in ages. She looked up at the makeshift stage to find that the fiddle player was staring at her. When he caught her looking, he shyly looked away. Bemused, Briar turned down the offer of another dance and walked away to enjoy the rest of the festival.

********************

Later, Briar was sitting on a bench at the edge of the festivities. It had been a joy to talk to so many people she hadn’t seen outside of the shop in a long time, but her feet hurt and her throat was sore. She had needed a break. It was well and truly dark now, and torches and bonfires were scattered across the square. Soon she would need to creep in closer to the fire to warm up, but for now she was content to wait in the darkness.

“Mind if I join you?” The fiddle player was standing next to her, having approached so silently he might as well have materialized out of thin air. Startled, Briar nodded her head in assent. The musician slid onto the bench next to her with preternatural grace, settling his long limbs in a pose worthy of portraiture. “I’m Tamlin.”

“Briar,” she introduced herself. “Do you live in town?”

“No, just visiting.” Tamlin didn’t elaborate on where he was from, and Briar didn’t push.

“I liked your music,” she offered instead. “You’re very talented.”

Tamlin smiled, a warm, shy smile as if he weren’t used to compliments. “Thank you. I haven’t been able to play in a while. I was worried I’d be rusty.”

“Not at all. Why haven’t you been able to play?”

He paused, as if considering how much to tell her. “The work I do is exhausting. And boring. It’s not fun to talk about.” That only raised more questions, but Briar was too polite to push him. “I’m curious about you, though.”

“Me?” Briar was taken aback. Nobody was curious about her. “Why?”

“You seem to be a normal village girl. But you smell like death.”

Well, she certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “I smell? Like death?”

Tamlin’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! You don’t smell, and even if you did, it wouldn’t be bad.”

Mother above, the awkward stammering was cute. “What did you mean, then?”

He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. “It’s more of…an aura, that I can sense. Of blood. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m a butcher.” She decided to put Tamlin out of his misery. He was right, after all. She reeked of death. “I work with my father. We provide meat for this town, and all the surrounding villages.”

She understood why Tamlin would be surprised. She was a frail, willowy young woman. When she was younger, she had been prone to bursts of tears when she was overwhelmed. When her mother had been alive, her parents had run the butcher shop together. With that void in their lives, Briar had had to step into her mother’s place. She didn’t cry very much anymore.

“Oh.” Tamlin seemed relieved that he hadn’t insulted her. “You don’t like it very much.” A statement, not a question.

Briar shrugged. “I don’t have to like it, I just have to do it. It used to be harder. I used to dislike all the blood, and the dead animals. But I’ve gotten used to it.” The hundreds of rabbits and chickens she had skinned and dressed no longer phased her. Seeing them no longer made her heart ache for the life lost. Instead, they were her family’s next paycheck.

“I understand. I don’t much like what I have to do either.” He gave a shy smile that melted her heart. “You know I’d rather be a musician. What would you rather be doing?”

It didn’t take long to come up with an answer. “I like flowers.”

“Really?” Tamlin smiled again, bigger, with a flash of perfect white teeth. “Me too. You want to be a florist?”

“Not exactly. I like collecting them, learning about them. Finding the ways they are similar and different.” It was hard to explain her hobby to others. Most people assumed she wished to sell flowers, but that wasn’t exactly it. Her most prized possession was an encyclopedia of all the known plants in her area, divided up by their attributes. She had a notebook where she was making her own encyclopedia of sorts, filled with notes and drawings of all the flowers she encountered. “Right now I’m working on drying them out, so they can be preserved for longer periods of time.”

“What do you mean?”

It was easier to show than to explain. She pulled a leather folder the side of her hand out of one of her pockets. Inside was a small bouquet of flowers, dried and pressed and perfectly preserved between two panes of glass. There was no real reason that she carried it around, other than the foolish belief that someday she would meet somebody who cared about it enough to want to pay her to make more.

“It’s amazing,” Tamlin breathed, handling the glass carefully between his large, calloused hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Briar glowed at the appreciation for her craft. “I made that three years ago.”

“They’re perfect.” Despite the passage of time, the flowers hadn’t lost their color or shape. “How much do you want for it?”

Caught off guard by her fantasy coming true, Briar stuttered, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s not really for sale.”

“Please, I would love to have it. Money isn’t a problem.”

Staring into his earnest green eyes only flustered Briar even more. “You can just have it, I don’t think it’s worth anything.”

“I can’t just take it, I have to give you something.” Seeing that she wouldn’t be swayed, he reached into his hair and pulled out one of the flowers. “What if I trade you for this?”

Briar accepted the flower. Despite her knowledge of local flora, she had never seen anything like it before. It looked like a pale blue rose, with silver leaves. The petals had a glossy iridescence and appeared to change colors as she shifted it back and forth in the low light. “What is it?”

“It’s a rare flower, from my home,” Tamlin explained. “From my mother’s garden. She loved flowers too.”

Briar caught the past tense in his wistful words, and conceded. “Very well, I’ll trade.”

Tamlin beamed at her. He carefully wrapped up the pressed flowers and slipped them into his tunic. “I’ll take good care of them for my journey home.”

It sounded like he was preparing to go. “Are you leaving?” Briar found herself saddened by his loss. “The festival continues all night, all the way into the morning. I’m sure you could find somewhere to spend the night.”

“Thank you, but I must go. I have people at home expecting me.” Tamlin rose to his feet, and Briar followed suit. “Thank you, Briar. Talking with you has been a gift I will cherish. Apologies again for my clumsy small talk.”

“No need to apologize.” Briar gazed up at him, taking in all of his features. He really was a beautiful man. She had never seen anyone like him before. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

Tamlin leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek. “I think I will,” he murmured into her ear. Before Briar could embarrass herself by begging him to stay, he was gone. She blinked, wondering if Ric had spiked the cider again. There was no sign that the fiddle player had ever been there, except for the exquisite rose cradled in her hands. She made her way back to the main part of the festivities, all of her attention on her gift. It was only when she bumped into someone else that she broke out of her reverie.

“Sorry,” Briar said to the young woman with silver bells on her wrists. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“All is well, sister,” the woman bobbed her head in greeting. “May the—” she cut herself off as she caught sight of the flower in Briar’s hand. Her eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”

“Someone gave it to me,” Briar answered, uneasy. “Why?”

“Tis a fae rose,” the woman breathed. “Nothing like it grows in the human realm, and it can only be picked by a High Fae.”

“But he…” Briar’s head spun. Her mind replayed everything that had happened that evening. Tamlin’s musical talent, his preternatural grace and beauty, how he claimed to sense the death that followed her like a dark cloud. Could he really be a High Fae? He had appeared human, but everyone knew that faeries were capable of disguising themselves, pulling the wool over naive mortal eyes. Everyone also knew that fae were wicked, deceitful creatures, who did nasty things to the humans they encountered.

Tamlin hadn’t been wicked. He had liked her. It was impossible to reconcile what Briar knew of faeries with the sweet man who had kissed her on the cheek.

The woman boldly hooked her arm with Briar’s elbow. “Come with me, sister. Tell me everything that happened. It sounds like you have been gifted with a visit from the High Fae. Are you familiar with the Children of the Blessed?”

“No.” Briar was taken in by the woman’s calm confidence. She clearly knew more about the fae than Briar did. And maybe she knew a way for her to see Tamlin again. “Show me.”

“Very well.” The woman lead Briar through the festival to a small group of others clad in pale blue robes. They greeted Briar warmly and gasped when she showed them the flower. They welcomed her into the fold, called her “sister”. She was home.

[theswaggyrat]

Foreign Acquaintances

Ayato x Fem!Reader // Genshin Childhood Lovers cw ~ angst if you glance // fluff // childhood lovers // inazuma spoilers ? // unedited tw ~ none !! plot - childhood lovers reunited, yet your eyes seem so cold and distant. and when did you forget his name ? when did you forget him ? part 1 ; part 2

Weeks. It had been several weeks since the encounter and your mind was still caught, jumping ropes around it. Ever since your meeting with Ayato, Ritou felt the slightest bit more dull whenever you stepped outside. Was it because he was driving you mad? Or were you simply longing for another fateful crossing? Moreover, you knew it was not just information you yearned for; something his touch ignited had been starved in you throughout the years.

Rays of sunlight dripped through the wooden yumemiru blinds as you shuffled toward your chabudai, a kettle in hand. It's warmth radiated beneath your palm as you went. Ever since the traveler had arrived, the storms of Inazuma were less frequent. Many times were you exposed to a lightning strike as your hair lingered above its resting place before you frantically moved inside some shop.

You had found yourself a hair piece that flowed along with your outfit nicely; and it was rather odd the way you found it. On your doorstep, within a small detailed encasement, was the piece of jewelry. It had not been signed off, only directed toward your address. It mustn't have been a mistake. You smiled greatly the first time you wore it. To deny it wasn't beautiful was completely wrong. It was much more than beautiful, and it matched your outfit. You had yet to see it in shops, but you never questioned it and wore it whenever the chance appeared.

Plopping down onto the floor-cushion, you delicately dipped the kettle and began pouring fresh honey tea into the cup.

That's what you intended to do without a mess, but a loud crash sounded from your front door, and the kettle shot from your hand as you jumped. It broke into pieces as it smashed against the wooden floor panels, painting your kimono with stains. You winced, pressing your palms against the floor to stand. The table had connected unpleasingly with your knees due to your sudden jump, and they grew swollen with the passing seconds.

Still in shock, you paid no mind to the spilled tea as you ambled your way to the door. Peeking your head outside, you saw a couple men laying unconscious at your doorstep. A startled gasp emitted from the sliver of your lips. Offering yourself a closer glance, you opened the door further to see a man; a man that caused you to grip the door's handle a little tighter as you examined him. He carded a hand through his winter-tainted hair. His back was not facing you, but you knew all too well who he was from his posture and stance. His moves were too coordinated and well thought out — except for the part where he crashed into your door.

"Sir Kamisato?" You called meekly, your voice betraying you as his head turned to gaze upon you. Those enchanting icy orbs compelled you forward as they settled upon your own eyes. Something in his eyes faltered at your sight, but he aided you with no reason as he stepped toward you.

"Your kimono," he examined, eyes trailing off as he spoke. He teased, "stained? Not what I expected from someone so proper."

You chuckled awkwardly as you held the cloth between your fingers. "Someone came crashing about as I was pouring tea. I was not expecting it, to say the least," you answered. Ayato hummed in disapproval and ushered you inside. Whether to disapprove himself or you, you did not know.

He closed the door behind him. You watched him, folding your arms over your chest restlessly. Every move you made suddenly felt hesitant and unsure; you were far from delighted at this.

Ayato faced you, his features firmly twisted down. "I've come on more important matters, even though you only recall us meeting once before," he explained. "I did not know you had so many Shogunate soldiers stalking your grounds, so I apologize for the mess. And your clothes." He blinked, and within moments was taking the cloth in his own hands. Ayato noticed the bumps in your knees as he was examining the kimono. His brows creased and he moved swiftly to wet a towel with cool water. You watched him silently, lips pressed tightly against each other as you held your breath with his every touch.

Once again, you were hungry for more of that fire he made.

"I've known. There is no reason for me to deal with them, nor can I as a mere citizen," you quipped as he gingerly pressed the cloth against your throbbing knees. His eyes lingered on his work, never faltering as you spoke. "Sir Kamisato Ayato," you sighed. "What are you doing here?"

The taste of his name on your tongue in such a manner pierced him enough to express it on his face, causing you to wish you stayed silent. "I... Your vision," he muttered. His hand slipped into his pocket and he pulled out what looked to be a cryo vision, encircled by the touch of gold. Your eyes locked with it, growing wide with curiosity and a hint of nostalgia. Lips pursed, you could not find it in you to speak. It was as if your whole body had froze as it gleamed at you. The vision was glowing a bright frosted blue. Ayato watched the familiarity wash over you. He offered it out to you, as a servant passing the crown to a queen. "Take it," he commanded. And then, faintly, "please."

You hastily took the vision from his hands. It shook something furious as you held it. Within moments, you felt a sense of nausea rush over your being and you dazed off, your figure swaying before dropping into Ayato's arms. He watched you with the softest of smiles while you were in your slumber, pressing your fingers firm around the vision.

When you awoke, the vision was still in your hands. At your bedside laid a clean set of clothes and a cup of honey tea. Your hand reached out and brushed the cup of tea; it was warm. Sitting up from your bed, you looked around. A silhouette moved gracefully around the opposite room. Your head grumbled in pain, throbbing as you moved — your knees, fortunately, had recovered easily. You feverishly stood, letting the vision you bore drop to the bed.

It hit you like a hurricane, overwhelming you with dumps of emotions you had not knew you could feel. You winced, pressing a hand to your head as if it would stop the oncoming train. Glancing toward the other room, the silhouette moved around your kitchen elegantly. And you remembered it all. You remembered him.

It wasn't as if you meant to, but your feet moved on their on, stumbling through the house as you moved to him. You threw your arms around him, squeezing him tight to make sure he could not leave; and unlike you supposed he would, he did not. He stood quietly, dropping what he had been doing. And then his arms snaked around your waist as he hugged you back.

Your lashes brimmed with tears that were longing to return at the first sight of him all those weeks ago. Ayato spoke no words as he pressed a hand behind the soft of your hair, his chin rested atop your head. Snuggling your head beneath the crook of his neck, you were the first to speak as your eyes fluttered close.

"You were the one who sent to me, weren't you? The hair piece?" you whispered, receiving a quiet chuckle in response.

"You're welcome," he murmured.

When you separated, your eyes dilated at the sight of him. His own eyes returned the thought, gazing down at you adoringly. "Thank you. I feel quite overwhelmed right now," you breathed honestly. "My emotions are mixed with all the ones from my memory loss, my body feels deadly tired, my head hurts something fierce, and I-"

The feeling of pressure against your lips strictly cut you off, and you gazed forth to see Ayato's eyes closed as he cupped the sides of your face tenderly. A flutter in your chest sent your heart racing. Feverishly, you pressed your own lips against his and in turned closed your eyes. His hand moved to hold your chin, and you accordingly wrapped your arms around his neck as he dipped in further. Breathlessly, you slipped away from his lips, never straying far enough to leave his touch.

"How long have you been waiting to do that?" you questioned amusingly, a smirk playing at the tips of your lips.

He reeled you back in for another kiss, satisfying and finally dousing the fire within your body. "Too long."

You were always his to hold.

[degeneratewh0re]

"Do you still have feelings for me?" + copiiia? :]

(Yo I accidentally wrote a whole fanfic for this one lmao, more content for y'all. I hope you enjoy 💕)

Copia had never felt more miserable in his life. He thought that becoming Papa could possibly fulfill the empty feeling in his chest, and he knew what he needed, but there was no way he could ever get it back. Even leading the sermon during mass, he wasn't himself. He choked on his words and the chapel's occupants gave him concerning looks. He merely passed it off as, "Eh, scusi, I fear I may be coming down with something..." and awkwardly laughed it off. Really, he was crumbling on the inside. Suffering with loss. Everyone says it grows easier over time, but that isn't the truth, is it? The more time passes, the more we forget about the person we lost. Copia didn't want to forget Terzo. He couldn't.

He had been missing for over three years. Presumably dead. And though Copia wanted to do everything in his power to search for his lover, Sister Imperator would never allow it. He wanted to peel his skin away, feeling constantly watched. Like he was prey being stalked by an eagle, waiting to dig its claws into him as soon as he made the wrong move...

But, one night, the unthinkable happened.

An anonymous letter left on the windowsill in his bedroom. 'Come to the forest at midnight. It has been such a long time since we've spoken.'

Unsigned, yet the handwriting was deeply engraved in Copia's mind. His heart began racing. This has to be a prank. Whoever was behind it, he would sure give them a piece of his mind. What a cruel thing to do to somebody...

Fine. He'd go. When the hour struck, he climbed out of his bedroom window and quickly ran across the gate bridge as to stay out of sight, silently cursing to himself. He could have been smarter and worn something else besides his slippers. He persevered, despite nearly stumbling with every step, and ran deep into the forest. It had been thirty minutes since he first began his journey. His sleepwear was torn, nicks covering his arms and legs from the thorns and branches he got caught on. Maybe this was a bad idea... what if whoever wrote that letter only wanted to lure him in so he'd get lost? For the worse, kill him? He grew anxious, paranoid. He was lost in the dark and far from home. He wanted to cry, but he was so angry with himself that his body wouldn't allow it. Though.. he saw a strange rope on the ground. It was suspiciously out of place. The more he looked, the more he realized that there was more rope. It has to lead to somewhere...

By the end of the rope, still nothing. Copia buried his face in his palms and shouted. The tears began to quickly fall after a while of holding them back. He felt so stupid. He was going to die here, alone, torn to bits by some wolf or something befitting of his situation-

"Copia."

He froze, slowly turning around towards the voice. Was it...?

It was Terzo. Alive. His hair had grown past his shoulders, and there was no mistaking that chilling, glowing white eye in the darkness. Copia stared at him, wide eyes, and then something snapped inside of him. He shouted and knocked the other man square in the jaw, sending him tumbling back against a tree.

"You motherfucker- how could you- why? Why did you leave me?" He panted, grabbing Terzo by the front of his shirt, angry enough that steam could have comically shot from his ears. Terzo slightly panicked, putting his hands up to defend himself, wincing from his jaw aching from the punch. "Will you calm down? Let me explain before you start beating the shit out of me, belial!"

Copia huffed, and reluctantly let Terzo go. He didn't want to do that.. he wanted- he shook away those thoughts. Terzo was still alive, and hadn't even bothered to say goodbye. Nothing. Copia had been hurting for years.

"Hurry then! I'm cold, I'm torn to bits, I-I-" his breath shuddered as Terzo quietly shushed him, brushing a hand over his cheek, petting him softly. He looked away and gritted his teeth.

"I had to run, Copia. They were going to kill me. I wished I could have told you, but doing that, I would be risking both of our lives."

Copia felt his anxiety spike hearing this. No, no.. this was too much information to process right now. "Why... why would-? Your own father wouldn't kill you." His voice sounded out of breath, broken, hurt. Terzo cooed quietly. Oh, he hated seeing Copia upset... and Terzo felt his heart break whenever Copia began sobbing.

"No, don't cry, bello. I'm here. I'm alive." He wrapped his arms around Copia, letting the Papa cry into his shoulder. Copia trembled beneath his fingers and gripped onto the back of his shirt. Now, he really didn't want to let go.

"Do you..." Terzo never let Copia leave his grasp, but moved his head so he could look down at him as he began to spoke. He wiped away his tears with his thumb, stroking over the faded out freckles on his cheeks. "What is it?"

"Do you still have feelings for me...?" Copia choked out between sniffled. Terzo smiled sadly, sighing, looking his dearest in the eyes.

"I've never lost them. The only reason I came back was for you, caro mio..."

Copia smiled through his tears. His grin big and crooked. He felt the emptiness inside of him slowly being filled again. He cupped Terzo's cheeks with both of his trembling hands, pulling him into a gentle, passionate kiss. Terzo held onto his hips firmly, gently caressing his lover while he returned the affectionate touches.

"I am going to take you far away from here, beloved. I'll make sure they never hurt either of us..."

[the-lady-maddy]

You Call Me Right On Time Chapter Two: Wednesday

She sat at her desk before her typewriter still unable to write anything of worth since her return home. That fact she once again sat looking at the phone number on the screen of infernal phone Xavier had given her certainly wasn't helping. She had hoped to receive another message from her stalker however logically they were someone from Nevermore there was little she could do before her return to the school.

She looked at the number again she could ask to person that a bought it questions yet she didn't want to seem as though she was accusing him of anything else she didn't linger on the fact she didn't want to hurt him anymore than she already had arrow or no arrow nor did she want to deal with his genuine worry for her.

Xavier's emotions even the "simpler" one's had always overwhelmed her as did her own feelings while she was around him even from when he had saved her, she had found herself feeling not only feeling she had felt new confusing emotions even after Tyler had join them at the carnival before Rowan's death she had once again been overcome with conflicting emotions. No telling Xavier about a stalking threatening her wouldn't help anyone.

Still, she remained sat looking at the number on the screen before her. "I hope you're not expecting me to call you" "No never but I'd settle for a text. You know what a text is right"

She had been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn't noticed anyone had enter her room let alone stand behind her until a hand reached around her pressing the phone icon and snacking up the phone and ducking away from her reach. Pugsley.

"Pugsley if you do not return that infernal device to me this instant, I shall weight you down a drop you into the swamp to fester in your own company where no one will ever find you or perhaps I shall find a dearly departed ancestor and bury to with them arms bound unable to claw your way out"

If he didn't return the phone in that moment death was the only viable option. She snapped her hand forward bending two of his fingers backwards as far as they would go before pining the arm behind his back ignoring his whimper, she deftly snatches the phone back once he dropped to his knee at her feet.

She glared at him until he scrambled for her room.

She looked down at the phone to see the time passing on the call he hadn't hung up even though no had spoken. She gave a quiet huff she hadn't had time to decide what she wanted to say to him.

"Hello Xavier"

"Addams"

She brow furrowed as she tilted her head to the side he sounded as though he was close to crying yet somehow, she knew he was smiling as well.

How infuriating of him causing confusing emotions once more. What she hated even more than apologising was how she lost all control and blurted it out even if she knew it was justified and necessary apology. She fought to smooth the quirk of her lip at his astonished tone. She somehow found herself reminded of when she had asked him to the Raven

"Are you really going to make me say it again" She glared at his laugh

"Oh absolutely"

It seemed she wasn't the only one recalling that day. Sickening. She knew she could easily hang up and pretend his conversation never happened yet even with all the confusing emotions he bought forth she still wanted to speak with him perhaps she had been poisoned into wanting to be friends with him maybe Nevermore was cursed or put curses on its students. With a sigh she spoke

"I apologise for my actions and treatment of you these past months and for having to arrested."

She shifted to get a better grip on the phone as she muttered mostly to herself without much thought

"Even though I rather enjoyed the sight of you in chains"

She was horrified she usually enjoyed that feeling immensely right now however she did not. She was thankful he hadn't heard of moment of spouting pure insanity.

She was pulled from her horrified mind by his own apology she hadn't expected one then again she hadn't allowed herself to dwell on the sting his words still caused her she refused to admit a boy had the ability to hurt her with his words. "What's to like?" She need to stop the emotional talk.

"What are you drawing"

She knew somehow deep down that it was her or maybe she was thinking to highly of herself she recalled the feeling of see her drawing and painting for the first time the drawing hadn't affected the same way the painting had she had liked the drawing she had even debated stealing it before she left Xavier's room, she couldn't lie she was baffled by the amount of emotions the painting had caused her she felt as though her had cut her open and laid her bare for all to see while she thought she would have enjoyed the feeling physically she hadn't enjoyed the emotion of it.

She looked to the wall across from her bed as she returned to the boy on the other end of her phone, she got her answer by his non answer she ignored the flutter in her stomach at his rough laugh and focused on the unsure noise he made and the sound of shuffling loose pages and the clinking of pens and pencils that must have been scattered across his desk.

She pulled her phone from her ear when she left the vibration of her phone. She couldn't hide the soft gasp that escaped her as she looked at the drawing of Nero she knew he thought it was just a scorpion but she knew better this was a drawing of her Nero she wanted it she hadn't had any photos of Nero this was the closest she was ever going to get and it was a truly beautiful drawing. She was asking for it before she knew it.

"Could you... Could I have this?"

"Yea- Yes of course you can" she could hear the smile when he replied

"Thank you"

She relished in the agony of saying glad it gave her more control over herself in the wake of her impromptu phone call to one Xavier Thorpe.

"Scorpions are very on brand for you"

Her eyes slid into slits she had seen Xavier's darker side in a matter of moments of watching him that had been a reason she was so sure of him being the monster, she had rarely seen darkness like that outside of her family or serial killers. He hid it well just not well enough to keep it from her. She had seen it from the way he walked, the way he talked. Mostly she had seen it in his eyes, she had felt it as subtle as it was, she had still felt how it surrounded him. She shook her head not allowing herself to fall into thought of the greenest eyes she had ever seen, the most beautiful eyes.

So she decided to “call him out on it” as Enid would say.

"What about you Xavier Thorpe are Scorpions "on brand" for you" she loathed having to say the words.

She heard the laughed he tried to fight back once again she distracted herself from it with stating Scorpion facts to see if he could surprise her once more.

"A single scorpion may produce venom with dozens of individual toxins such as neurotoxins, cardiotoxins, nephrotoxins, and hemolytic toxins-

"As well as a wide variety of other chemicals like histamine, serotonin, and tryptophan. That answer your question Addams?"

She allowed the smile no one could see her and if anyone did she knew they wouldn't dare speak of it. She waited a beat before she answered

"Yes" he waited

"Nero"

"Nero?"

She didn't know why she had said it nor did she know why it was harder to tell him than it had been telling Enid, Xavier Thorpe had the unique ability of making things so much more important somehow. She wasn't even surprised by his next question

"What happened to Nero Wednesday?"

"Bullies. Held my back as one rode over him on his bike. I cried my black little heart out but it didn't change anything"

The emotions are a weakness was left unsaid yet heavily implied

"Shit. I hope they suffered the wrath of Wednesday Addams greatly" she smirked as she recalled the screams and the blood as they fled as far and as fast as they could from her.

She thought back to the past few months whenever Wednesday had said something she knew many would think was 'abnormal' or creepy Xavier was the one to show little reaction in those moments.

"Only on live targets" he had merely raised his eyebrows at her and treated her as he had before she had said it, as though the thought hadn't affected him as it had and would other. She also recalled Tyler’s face in such moments the pinched smile as though he was trying to see unaffected.

"Of course,"

Her lip titled upwards once more at his laugh

"Good" she felt a thrill at his agreement to such vicious vengeance, no matter how deserved it was.

They fell into a comfortable silence she enjoyed it she hadn't found someone to simply sit in silence with her or to not annoy her while she tried to write and Xavier had managed it for two hours. Her fingers fell still, she didn't know again how she knew he had stopped drawing just that he had she waited to see what he would say or do.

"Goodbye Wednesday" she frowned he seemed saddened by something, something she had missed.

"Goodbye Xavier" she spoke the words quietly, ignoring the twinge of not wanting the call to end.

She didn't know what to think of his message he had seemed to want to get off the phone with her as soon as he could his emphasis on texting confused her had he not enjoyed their phone call if not why had he not left earlier?

They began texting sporadically over the coming months him sending her photos of his drawing and painting and her stating random things she had seen or done throughout the day he didn't seem to mind if it took her days to reply and she rather enjoyed how they could pick up a conversation days later as though that had never been the case.

They weren't close by any means however they was an abundance of potential for so much more just waiting for them to create something imperishable.

Part One:

https://www.tumblr.com/the-lady-maddy/720554660376739840/you-call-me-right-on-time-chapter-one-xavier?source=share

[ebaeschnbliah]

Behold! You are come to Cerin Amroth .....

The Company filed slowly along the paths in the wood, led by Haldir, while the other Elf walked behind. They felt the ground beneath their feet smooth and soft, and after a while they walked more freely, without fear of hurt or fall. Being deprived of sight, Frodo found his hearing and other senses sharpened. He could smell the trees and the trodden grass. He could hear many different notes in the rustle of the leaves overhead, the river murmuring away on his right, and the thin clear voices of birds in the sky. He felt the sun upon his face and hands when they passed through an open glade.

As soon as he set foot upon the far bank of Silverlode a strange feeling had come upon him, and it deepened as he walked on into the Naith: it seemed to him that he had stepped over a bridge of time into a corner of the Elder Days, and was -now walking in a world that was no more. In Rivendell there was memory of ancient things; in Lórien the ancient things still lived on in the waking world. Evil had been seen and heard there, sorrow had been known; the Elves feared and distrusted the world outside: wolves were howling on the wood's borders: but on the land of Lórien no shadow lay.

All that day the Company marched on, until they felt the cool evening come and heard the early night-wind whispering among many leaves. Then they rested and slept without fear upon the ground; for their guides would not permit them to unbind their eyes, and they could not climb. In the morning they went on again, walking without haste. At noon they halted, and Frodo was aware that they had passed out under the shining Sun. Suddenly he heard the sound of many voices all around him.

A marching host of Elves had come up silently: they were hastening toward the northern borders to guard against any attack from Moria; and they brought news, some of which Haldir reported. The marauding orcs had been waylaid and almost all destroyed; the remnant had fled westward towards the mountains, and were being pursued. A strange creature also had been seen, running with bent back and with hands near the ground, like a beast and yet not of beast-shape. It had eluded capture, and they had not shot it, not knowing whether it was good or ill, and it had vanished down the Silverlode southward.

`Also,' said Haldir, `they bring me a message from the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. You are all to walk free, even the dwarf Gimli. It seems that the Lady knows who and what is each member of your Company. New messages have come from Rivendell perhaps.'

He removed the bandage first from Gimli's eyes. 'Your pardon! ' he said, bowing low. `Look on us now with friendly eyes! Look and be glad, for you are the first dwarf to behold the trees of the Naith of Lórien since Durin's Day! '

When his eyes were in turn uncovered, Frodo looked up and caught his breath. They were standing in an open space. To the left stood a great mound, covered with a sward of grass as green as Spring-time in the Elder Days. Upon it, as a double crown, grew two circles of trees: the outer had bark of snowy white, and were leafless but beautiful in their shapely nakedness; the inner were mallorn-trees of great height, still arrayed in pale gold. High amid the branches of a towering tree that stood in the centre of all there gleamed a white flet. At the feet of the trees, and all about the green hillsides the grass was studded with small golden flowers shaped like stars. Among them, nodding on slender stalks, were other flowers, white and palest green: they glimmered as a mist amid the rich hue of the grass. Over all the sky was blue, and the sun of afternoon glowed upon the hill and cast long green shadows beneath the trees.

'Behold! You are come to Cerin Amroth,' said Haldir. `For this is the heart of the ancient realm as it was long ago, and here is the mound of Amroth, where in happier days his high house was built. Here ever bloom the winter flowers in the unfading grass: the yellow elanor, and the pale niphredil. Here we will stay awhile, and come to the city of the Galadhrim at dusk.'

The others cast themselves down upon the fragrant grass, but Frodo stood awhile still lost in wonder. It seemed to him that he had stepped through a high window that looked on a vanished world. A light was upon it for which his language had no name. All that he saw was shapely, but the shapes seemed at once clear cut, as if they had been first conceived and drawn at the uncovering of his eyes, and ancient as if they had endured for ever. He saw no colour but those he knew, gold and white and blue and green, but they were fresh and poignant, as if he had at that moment first perceived them and made for them names new and wonderful. In winter here no heart could mourn for summer or for spring. No blemish or sickness or deformity could be seen in anything that grew upon the earth. On the land of Lórien there was no stain.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, Lothlórien

[akutashi]

Stranger Things Have Happened in The Night time {Demon!Akutagawa}

Tags: 18+ MDNI, mentions of death and illness (due to Akutagawa’s lung disease), stalking, mentions of Akutagawa being possessive, a quick mention of Hell, Demon fucking, pet names (princess), masturbation/unknowingly being watched while masturbating, hints of dacryphilia, Ability usage during sex/bondage (Akutagawa using Rashomon to tie reader up), choking, unprotected sex/creampie, over stimulation

WC: 2,013

He watches. Watches over Yokohama at night, silently jumping from rooftop to rooftop. A normal routine for Akutagawa, once patrolling this area often as a member of the Port Mafia, but now he used it as a sense of comfort, this was as normal as it could get for him now.

He’s lost track of time. Months, maybe even years—he wasn’t quite sure honestly how long it’s been since his passing. Vague blurry visions of Gin, weeping over her own brother’s body as his illness took the best of him. Akutagawa was a fighter, always has been, but the one thing he could never fight and win against was his declining health, his lungs just barely producing enough oxygen as he struggled to take in his final breaths. It comes and goes in small pieces, pieces of that day quickly flash in his mind as he tries to make it all make sense, to get some sort of his humanity back. The feeling of harsh crackling embers flying off a source of heat, touching and searing his skin as his breath slowly started to fade, the day that Rashomon completely merged with him, in an attempt to keep Akutagawa alive so it too could continue on. It felt like the worst kind of sickness, both the heat of the pain yet the shivering ice that filled his veins as Rashomon entered into his body. The dark tendrils of Rashomon enveloped his body, wrapping around him like a mummy as he became completely covered by the being. A damned creature to walk the earth—black and red lines spiraling around his body like a snake with its prey. A breath of fresh air, he felt stronger, faster—he felt on top of the world. After that he disbanded from the Port Mafia, choosing to leave in the night and leaving no form of contact. He had a grip on how to control his powers, one could say that him and Rashomon were even almost in perfect sync with one another. This however, he had no idea what this would mean for him and the instability scared him deep down.

He broke out of his daze after making it to the next rooftop. Catching sight of someone sitting by the ledge, curious, he crept up closer, a previous trained assassin, how to get close without ringing any alarms, this he remembered. "Y'know if you're going to creep up on someone you could be a little less obvious about it." The person spoke up, turning their head to face him. He stopped in his tracks, caught off guard by being caught. "The way you're sitting right now, it's vulnerable you shouldn’t have your back to me, what if I was here to kill you?" Weird, It's been too long he had almost forgotten the sound of his own voice. “If you were, we wouldn’t be talking right now would we? You already had your chance and you didn’t take it.” He heard a laugh, like they were pointing out the obvious. “Fair enough.” He huffed. Getting up, you introduced yourself, smile on your face as he introduced himself as well.

It’s become like clockwork to see you, another daily occurrence in Akutagawa’s routine. Him patrolling the rooftops, you in your same spot on the roof ledge watching the city, it was monotonous. He would never admit it but he felt different whenever he saw you. A weird feeling would form within him before you came into view, hopeful that he would find you in your same spot every time, and you never disappointed. You were someone who didn’t just treat him as a former fellow Port Mafia member, or someone who looked at him in fear, recognizing him from one of the many wanted posters plastered around town, nor did this new form of his ever once instill fear within you. His new start gave him this opportunity and it was oddly refreshing. While your roof hangouts were slowly becoming the highlight of his day, deep down he began to crave more. While social interaction made itself scarce for him in his Port Mafia days, it was still better than this life of solitude he came to know. Akutagawa has become possessive of you—call it a side effect of merging with something as animalistic as Rashomon, but he’s become restless when he isn’t with you. You’re his curse in this new life, thoughts of you consuming him constantly when away from you.

He's silently vowed to protect you, he was going to make sure no one hurt you, no one should dare touch you as long as he's around. He thought as he made the decision to follow you home one night. He could watch, make sure no one hurt you on your way home or try to break into your house while you were sleeping. The lights trickled through your curtains into the night outside. The curtains parted just enough for him to be able to watch you. Unsuspecting you, going about your nightly routine; mindlessly scrolling through your phone, changing into your pajamas. Akutagawa watched, like a child entranced at the television screen as you moved around your room preparing for the night.

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling silently, most likely lost in your thoughts. Suddenly, your hand slid into your pants, spreading your legs slightly for yourself as you rubbed small circles with your fingers, closing your eyes. His eyes widened, suddenly realizing what was occurring only a few feet in front of him. He felt guilty—guilty that he was witnessing such a private moment without your knowledge.

Picking up the pace your mouth fell open. Your closed window created a barrier, one that hindered Akutagawa from hearing those beautiful moans falling from your mouth in your current state of bliss, leaving it up to his wandering imagination to how you sounded right now. He wondered if you were close, the way your mouth hung open, back arching and hand moving at a rapid pace. He felt something growing in the pit of his stomach, a raging desire that he’s never felt before. He felt like time was frozen, nothing else existing in the moment except for him and you.

Your eyes fluttered open, eyes hazy, gazing out your window like you knew he was there, sure that someone was watching you like the first night you two met. Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar figure looming in the darkness. “Akutagawa?” Your voice was shaky but he sensed no sign of anger towards him in your tone. He inched closer, the light of your room allowing him to come into full view. “Have you been watching me this whole time?” Calm and collected, if he didn’t know any better he would think the events that just happened were a figment of his imagination. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, I got carried away, I’m sorry.” You gesture to tell him to come in, and he does, like some weird force that pulls him in, he’s bending over to climb through your window without a second thought. Closing your window and facing him he’s already made himself comfortable on the edge of your bed. You sat next to him, staring at him as silence filled the room.

“Y’know as a child you’re wary of monsters under your bed but you’re never warned about the demon watching over you” You teased, trying to fill the deafening silence and make light of the situation. He turned to look at you, doubts suddenly filling his mind as he realized how idiotic his actions were, it was impossible for a human like you could ever care for him.

You saw the sadness in his eyes, a vulnerability you never witnessed in your time spent with him. "Ryunosuke." Your voice was soft, loving and filled with concern as you tenderly placed a hand on his shoulder.

You placed a kiss to his lips, softer than Akutagawa could have ever imagined. He kissed back, a sudden wave of confidence washing over him and reminding him why he came here in the first place. He flipped you over, laying you on your back. He looked down at you, your eyes filled with want as you stared back up at him. He felt almighty on top of you. Like he traveled to the depths of hell and awoke more of his powers than he could have ever dreamed of. He slides himself into you, forcing all of his length in at once. It’s uncomfortable at first, he’s large and he’s hitting as deep inside of you as he can. He’s still as he feels you contract around him, trying to accommodate his length.

“Tell me, who do you think about when you touch yourself?” His voice a growl in your ear, causing you to whimper. "You, Ryunosuke, I've thought about you every time since we've met." The admission causing you to attempt to hide your face in embarrassment. He’s rutting into you, stretching you open with every loud slap heard echoing through your room. “Late at night all alone, and you imagine me fucking you like this? How sinful.” He laughs, it’s light and filled with mockery. He snaps his hips, one deep long thrust and every inch of him is filling you again as you let out a cry, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

Buzzing fills the air, like an electric current running its course as the red light illuminates off of his body. Sudden black spirals jut out of his body causing your eyes to widen, never having witnessed his power in person. It wraps around your body without a second thought, binding your wrists together as well as wrapping around your neck. It feels weird against your skin, almost like an itchy wool sweater. “Please, too much.” You’re begging, little pathetic whines forming in your throat and Akutagawa thinks that it’s one of the most beautiful sounds that he’s ever heard. “Too much? but you haven’t even cum yet my princess, what happened to you touching yourself to the thought of me?” You clench at his words, tightening around him as the tiniest set of tears build up and slowly fall down your cheeks. Your hands helplessly maneuvering around in an attempt to free them. It's not long until you feel that familiar feeling starting to build up inside of you. It wasn't hard for you to reach this point, your walls convulsing violently as Akutagawa continues to plunge his entire length into you. You feel perfect around him, the way you can take him entirely, the way you tighten around him and squeeze him just right. It's enough to make him release inside of you.

He shows no sign of slowing down, his thrusts still matching the pace he's set, his stamina shows no sign of depleting and you wonder how many rounds he can go. Demons can't get tired from something like this, can they? He's determined to claim you, mark you as his forever. His cum is leaking out of you with every thrust, you can feel it leak down your thigh every time he's pulling out of you. You're sore, breathing shallow, head heavy and ears ringing. At this point it's instinct, a second nature as you involuntarily tighten around him again. He’s so desperate and rough, everything’s shaking as the headboard of the bed slams against the wall. It's enough to send him over the edge again, releasing inside of you and you feel full. You whimper as he pulls out of you, feeling empty without him filling you up. He admires the amount of his essence coating his cock and how much is leaking out of your hole. He feels satisfied, it's enough for now, he thinks as he affirms that this should be enough to make you his. He voices this concern aloud, making sure you're aware of this, aware that you are now his and only his.

[prettyinpink350]

Kiss and cry

Summary: steve Roger's was known as the 'nice guy's but to you he was the son of satan. He made your life hell on earth. But that all changes when you one day when your parents invite him and his family over for dinner.

Warning: down talking, bullying, manipulation, masterbaition, slight stalking, forced relationship, smut. Abo.

Dark! Alpha steve Rogers x innocent sweet omega reader

This story take place in the late 80s early 90s

April 16th freshman year...

Steve and his friends stood in the hallway before school waiting for the bell to ring signaling that school has started. Bucky and Sam where carried away in their conversation.

Steve was quite letting out the Occasional 'mhmmmm' or 'wow' Just watching people pass by then he saw you.

You were walking with your friend, your soft hair flowing as you walked, in that moment the world stopped to a screeching halt. When the breeze caught your as you passed him by, steve could smell the fruity scent off of you, mangos, apples and honey lemon.

He watched you walk away, his eyes never leaving you until your and your friend where out of sight He had never seen you before but it looked like bucky had.

"God look at that! Damn I'd to dick her down." Sam said while his eyes just got done watching your ass.

"Yo, you talkin' bout y/n y/l/n. Nahh man she won't let nobody touch her." Bucky responded

"who is she?" Steve asked playing it off as if he hadn't just seen the girl of his dreams walk by.

"Y/n she's in my history class, shes sweet an all. But rumlow tried askin' her out and she declined. Like ain't every girl crushing on that dick" bucky finished his rant.

"Wait! The senior football player asked and she said no! Yo something must be wack about her" sam mused.

"Huh? That's weird." Steve commented. The next day steve saw you walking into your Home room. During lunch steve went to the office and got his home room changed to yours. And that when all the trouble began.

Saturday

The doorbell rang, your mother opened the door with a wide smile. You stood sheepishly with your father in the living room. Worry and anxiety rolled in thick hot waves into you.

Your mother had recently befriended steve rogers mother Sarah. Mrs rogers was the most sweetest person ever, with her honey blonde hair and brown eyes. Her slender short figure was almost comically to her husbands and sons.

Steve had her loving face except for the brown eyes, his blue that swirl to green in the middle. His lighter blonde hair taken from his father and his huge muscular build made him hulk only at the age of 18. His father had blonde hair and blue eyes as pale of the sky in summer. His father slightly bigger but that would soon change once Steve grew into his full alpha body

Steve and his family walked in chatting and smiling with your mother.

“Hiya y/n, how have you been?” Joseph Steve’s father asked.

“I’m good” you answered weakly. You could feel Steve’s eye burning into you but you wouldn’t look at him.

How could Steve the devil have come from such nice people? As your parents led sarah and Joseph into the dinning room for “grown up talk” you and Steve stayed behind in the living room. You stood awkwardly my the arch door way.

“Umm..so how was day?” You asked trying to break the silence.

“It was fine.” He replied bluntly and annoyed

“So y/n’s a junior now?” You and Steve over heard the conversation from the dinning room.

“Yea she is!” You father responded

“Have you guys found an alpha for her? Is a very pretty omega” Sarah sad with joy.

“We have been looking for a suitable match, we’re nervous to talk to her about it. She’s shy, I’m sure you can tell” your mother chuckled after she spoke. “ we wanted to let her gong her own, but we’re worried she’ll get taken advantage of, or she won’t find anybody since she’s so shy” your mother finished.

You could feel Steve eyes on you again.

“Does Steve have an omega lined up?” Your father asked

“Well we thought Sharon, but suddenly sophomore year he just stopped talking to her. Now he’s a senior, I’ve been trying to make him start to get a nice girl. Or convince him that Sharon is a good match but he just waved me off and told me that he has his eyes on another. The boy refused to tell who she is” Joseph said in response.

“You don’t have a mate lined up” Steve asked his eyes looked into your mating gland.

“N-no I haven’t found a nice one yet, a-and no one ever shows interest.”

“That’s because you don’t talk, or because no one wants a slut mate” Steve spoke lowly and mean, low enough so your parents or his wouldn’t hear him.

The rest of the dinner you sat silently trying to not cry from Steve’s words and glare.

Monday

You sat in front of Steve's and his friends trying to pay attention to your work.

"Look at the omega brat! All small and scared" bucky kept jabbing your shoulders with his fingers.

"Little slut, huh? Omega whore, I bet she'll suck any guy off." Steve said right before he shoved your back, your chest slamming into the desktop. You whimpered the pain in you chest hurt like hell.

"Awww is the omega hurt" steve mocked pretending to care in a baby voice. You started to pack up your things, tears rolling down your face. You stood up walking out of the classroom the sub to busy sleeping on the job to notice.

You ran down the hallways finding the farthest bathroom to hide in. Right before you were about the lock the stall door the girls bathroom opened loudly banging. Heavy footsteps followed. You quickly shut the stall door and locked it.

"OMEGA! get out here right now!"

Steve yelled punching his fist into the door. You cried harder, so confused of what you ever did to Steve to make him hate you this much. Ever since you met steve in your homeroom class in freshman year you had a crush on him.

He smelled like apples, smoky wood, and warm chocolate. All you ever wanted was to be his friend, but somewhere along the lines you must have messed up. Because now steve was slamming his body into the stall door trying to break it down.

"Y/n! Open this fucking door right now!" You whimpered scared that you'd upset the alpha you longed for.

"I'm scared" you sobbed out, that's what did it for steve. He broke down the door eyes landing on you small figure cramped into the corner of the stall.

"Please don't hurt m-me. I dont know what I did wrong."

Steve's breaths came out in pants. Steve felt shame he scared his omega, made her think he was going to beat her. He regretted the day that sam and bucky started to tease you because you told bucky no you wouldn't go on a date with him, and he played and followed along. He hated that he did because now he was watching the girl he knew was his mate cry and shake at the sight of him.

Steve slowing walking in, holding his arms out for you. You flinched away from him -that broke his heart.

"Let your alpha make it better" steve murmured while he pulled you into his arms you shook and sobbed into him.

"Why?" You asked "why are you so mean to me steve? All I ever wanted was to be your friend" steve hugged you tighter rubbing his nose to your neck senting you.

"I'm sorry omega. Alpha just wanted you." Steve spoke while he needed your ass. Letting out a high whine from your throat when steve continued to run his mouth over your gland.

"I know my sweet omega, alpha's sorry"

A/N: I am making this into a short series, this first chapter is pretty short but I'm tired. Sorry, love ya hot stuff🤭😉

[huntergatherercreator]

Could you do a mob Tom Holland reacting to the reader where the reader is over working herself lately and forgets to sleep, eat and stay hydrated properly and that sort of stuff. So, when they're busy stalking her they see that she left her front door open and she's literally collapsed on the floor out of exhaustion and started to sleep there? Fun fact: That might end up being me by tomorrow or after 2 days approx.

Hey lovey, thank you so much for the request! I know it's taken me a couple of days to get around to writing this so hopefully you've had a lovely rest and some downtime to reset after being so busy. I do feel slightly called out by this request if I'm honest because, same. Just remember to be nice to yourself, your body can handle a lot but it needs a little looking after too. Drink your water, have lots of yummy snacks, and most importantly have a nice long sleep!

I hope this is close to what you were after.

Stay safe and take care 💜💜

-------

1,339 words

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you stumbled to your door. It was well past nine, you’d only meant to stay an extra hour at work but, like it had for the past three days, the time had got away from you. Every time you’d made to leave there was another issue, another customer, another delivery. Before you’d even realised it you’d worked almost double your shifted hours each day and you be lying if you said you weren’t feeling it now. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you fought with the lock. Stepping into the hallway you gratefully dropped your bag and fished it out.

‘Why are you only getting home now’ the message read. Then a second later ‘Have you eaten yet?’

Shoulders slumping you pushed the door closed and flicked on the light. You didn’t know how to respond to him. He didn’t normally message to check up on you like that but you didn’t blame him for worrying, or resorting to spying on you. You’d barely had the energy to write back more than one word answers to him, and that was if you got five minutes alone to actually check your phone. As you re-read his words your stomach churned with hunger. You hadn’t eaten yet. After a second you realised you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a drink of anything either. Scrubbing a hand over your face you sat heavily on the bottom step. The intention of kicking off your shoes evaporated as your legs stretched out in front of you and relief flowed through them. Resting your shoulder against the wall you stared past your phone, eyes zoning out as you tried to think of what to say to him. You just needed a second to think. Smothering a yawn your eyes fluttered closed. Just a small second and then you’d let him know you were OK...

***

Tom stared at his phone. It had been twenty minutes since he’d text you. It wasn’t like you to not respond, or to be getting home this late constantly. You’d waved him off with reassurances that you were just busy with work but something about the situation wasn’t sitting right with him. Dialling your phone it rang out and disconnected, unanswered. He knew he shouldn’t doubt you. You were too good a person to lie to him, let alone go behind his back and hide something, but the evasive way you’d been acting had him unsettled.

Standing he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and shrugged it on. The man speaking faltered and cleared his throat. Tom levelled him a look, daring him to question his actions. If he wanted to walk out of a business meeting he damn well would. Buttoning his jacket he pointedly made eye contact with the other twelve men at the table. When no-one spoke he clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder and stalked from the room.

His chauffeur drove him to your house as fast as the traffic would allow. He called you again. Twice. Three times. Growling a profanity he pulled up the tracker app he’d installed on your phone and checked the location again. It still said you were at home. A chill crept in as an errant thought slid into his mind. What if you weren’t alone? Shaking it off, he shoved the phone into his pocket and impatiently waited as the car turned into your street. He had the door open before the car had properly slowed.

Shoving the gate open he hesitated as he took in the dark windows. The only light was in the hallway. Reaching into his jacket his fingers brushed against the cool metal of his gun as unease swirled in his gut.

Trying the door his breath caught as he realised it was unlocked. Hand tightening on his weapon he gently nudged it open until he caught sight of you stretched out on the stairs. For a second his heart constricted, stomach plummeting as he took in how still you were. Then you huffed a sleepy breath and shifted to get more comfortable.

Dragging a hand through his curls he let out a long breath before laughing softly. He was an idiot. The shock of thinking you were unconscious, or worse, felt like a kick from karma for ever doubting you. Watching you so deeply asleep, still wrapped in your jacket, he knew he’d made a mistake by not checking up on you sooner.

Shutting the door quietly he flipped the lock. Kneeling down he slipped off your shoes, tucking them neatly on the rack before winding his arms around you. Lifting you easily he cradled you close as he carried you up the stairs to your bedroom. Toeing the door open he left the light off and wound his way to your side of the bed. As he lay you on top of the duvet you jolted, suddenly wide awake.

***

A startled yelp left you as a dark figure loomed over the bed. Hands flying up to ward them off you caught them hard in the gut. A whoosh of air left them along with a groan.

“Y/N, it’s me.” Tom’s voice broke through the sleep fog still clinging to you.

“Are you OK?” Pushing yourself up your hands fluttered around him, not sure where was safe to touch him. His fingers caught yours, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles.

“I should be asking you that.” The bed shifted as he settled on the edge. In the darkness you could barely see him but you could feel his gaze boring into you.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled biting back a yawn.

“You passed out in the hallway,” he admonished. “You’ve clearly not been taking care of yourself.”

Fingers going limp in his hold you dropped your head guiltily. He wasn’t wrong. You had pushed yourself too far this time.

The bedside lamp flared to life, searing your eyes for a second until they adjusted. When you found the courage to look up he was watching you with pensive stare. You knew what he must be thinking. You were a mess. A huge contrast to him in every way. Where your hair was a mess from rushing about all day, his was perfectly dishevelled. Your clothes were rumpled from being hastily thrown on this morning and his suit was crisp and sharp even after a full day of work.

“I guess I’m just going to have to take care of you.” He said it with a straight face but you flushed at the double meaning.

“You don’t have to do that, Tom. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do tonight.”

“None more important than you.” His lips quirked when you stared dumbly at him. Shrugging out of his coat he dropped it at the end of the bed and undid his cufflinks.

“Are you hungry, baby?” Your throat dried up as you watched him roll up his sleeves. When you didn’t answer he raised an eyebrow, hands going to his hips.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Good.” He crossed to your dresser and pulled out your favourite pyjamas. “Put these on, and get under the covers.” Taking the empty glass from your bedside table he disappeared for a minute before returning with it filled to the brim with water.

“I want this gone by the time I get back,” he ordered.

“Where are you going?” you asked, suddenly worried.

Cupping your face he kissed your forehead. “Relax. I’m going to make you something to eat.”

Slumping back against the cushions you smiled up at him.

“I can’t wait to see that,” you teased. He’d never personally made you anything before. Everything usually came straight from his personal chef, or a nearby restaurant.

“If you don’t get changed and drink your water you won’t get anything,” he warned.

Your stomach growled loudly in protest.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you,” he promised.

-------

Taglist: @rosie-posie08 @woahmrstark

[delimeful]

failed bounties and fresh bonds

commission for @the-panmixxia! thank you so much for your support! :)

warnings: fear/panic, unintentional child endangerment, pretty bad injury, hypothetical gore/death mentions, remus being remus

-

Virgil pressed his palm over his mouth, struggling not to make any noise even as his lungs strained for air. There was someone in his forest, and he was sure they were here to kill him or worse.

He should have left before tonight, gotten as far away as possible, but... He’d lived here for longer than any of the other temporary homes he’d found. It was the safest place he’d found.

The trees in the forest were old and huge, enough that they sheltered him from view. The mountain was even more so, with old dragon caves that he could spend hours exploring. There was a little town to the south, but the forest was big enough that no travelers stumbled across the part where he lived.

He’d only snuck down to the town because he’d wanted to see the lights that had been strung up in the streets. He wasn’t sure what they were for, but they were bright and beautiful.

He hadn’t meant to get so close. He hadn’t meant to be caught.

But between one moment and the next, there had been a tiny gasp, and he’d turned his head to see one of the townsfolk, a young woman, staring up at him in frozen terror. The sight of the human had terrified him just as much, and he’d tipped back onto his butt, his hand knocking into a market stall with a crash of splintering wood.

The spell of silence broken, the woman screamed, the alarm spreading as windows began to light all down the street. Virgil had scrambled back like a crab, before turning and fleeing into the woods, leaving behind the distant noise of opening doors and raised voices.

It had all led to this. He’d been seen, and they’d set a bounty on his head, and now there was a strange human in his forest.

Virgil could hear the stranger humming, his tone nasal and low, occasionally straying painfully off key. He’d been using the sound as a guide, creeping away as quietly as he could whenever it came into range, but no matter how hard he tried to put distance between them, the wind would carry that hum back to him the moment he settled down to hide.

The stranger was a skilled tracker, maybe, or had extraordinarily good luck, or actually had seen Virgil that first time and had been following him from a distance ever since, tiring him out like a wolf stalking a deer. He didn’t sound like a knight, didn’t move with the crash of steel or ride a horse. Virgil hoped he wasn’t a knight, almost more than he wished he’d never gone down to that village at all.

He let himself breathe in, quiet and shaky, and then pushed away from the wall of his cave, listening for the stranger so he could try and sneak away once more.

Between the distant trees and night sky, there was silence.

Virgil leaned towards the cave’s opening, scanning the sharp silhouettes and straining for even the most muffled sound of twigs underfoot.

At the lip of the cave, a human-sized figure swung into view upside down, baring bone-white teeth in an unhinged grin. “Boo!”

Virgil couldn’t help the small scream that tore from him, the noise echoing against the cavern’s walls. His heart racing, he bolted back down those familiar tunnels without another thought, fleeing even as the human’s cackling cut off sharply.

“—Hey, wait, get back here! I didn’t spend all night wandering in the cold-ass woods just to have a monster blueball me out of a fight again!”

Shouted into a deep cave, the stranger’s words bounced and overlapped until they were just meaningless noise around Virgil, only propelling him forward faster. He took the corners sharply, scrambling up near sheer cliffs, barely noticing the way sharp protruding rocks scraped against his shoulders or pierced the soft bits of his feet.

He didn’t realize he was cornering himself until he turned into a dead end, the paths somehow warped and unfamiliar under the force of his panic. Quick, skipping steps were pursuing him in the distance, which meant that the human could still hear his footsteps, and so he shuffled into the furthest corner of the cavern and focused on making himself still and quiet, no matter how hard his body wanted to tremble and shake and sob.

There was no doubt about it; the stranger was a bounty hunter, and Virgil was the bounty.

That nasally voice continued to echo down to Virgil as he rambled on, complaining or singing or making jokes Virgil didn’t get, all while steadily pursuing his quarry.

Bit by bit, the noise drew closer and closer, accompanied by the crackle of a merrily burning torch. He seemed to be utterly undeterred by the twisting, unsettling nature of the mountain, and what little hope Virgil had began to fade. There was no way that the stranger would just happen to pass him by.

It would take a miracle to save him now.

A cavern away, a chunk of old stone gave way under an overconfident foot.

—-

“Oh, fuck—,” Remus shouted, his brain nearly shorting out as he tripped directly into freefall.

His divination provided him with a slurry of unhelpful images, each one matching a tiny movement he made while falling: him landing on his legs and shattering both of them so hard he blacks out, him landing on his head and doing a lot worse than blacking out, ragdolling all the way down the crevice below, twisting so that his foot catches on a crack in the wall and wrenches his ankle— That one!

He howled as his foot caught, and then the bitch that was gravity caught up with him and his back and skull slammed against the wall, knocking the air out of him and causing little white flashes to appear in his vision.

It took a long moment to come back to himself through the pain, but when he did, he found himself still dangling in place by a single ankle. He’d lost his torch somewhere in the process.

He glanced down, and knew immediately that the shadowy drop below was fatal, the cracks of potential future bone breaking settling into his brain.

Glancing up, he knew immediately that his ankle was boned, going by the interesting angle it was making with the rest of his leg.

He contemplated reaching up with his other foot and trying to wedge it in another crack. His brain offered him visions of the whole bit of cliff face snapping into brittle pieces, and then more falling to his death.

He crossed his arms, letting all the blood rush to his head in hopes of that generating a better idea. Instead, he got a headache.

“Well, shit,” he said, succinctly.

Something big shifted, just barely in earshot. Remus didn’t bother looking ahead; it was obvious that the giant he’d been hunting had just figured out how thoroughly the roles had been reversed.

Sure enough, the movements shuffled closer, surprisingly hesitant, and then two huge, glowing eyes peered down at him.

“Come to grind my bones into paste?” Remus asked, genuinely curious. “Or squish all my organs out through my ears?”

Those eyes scrunched up a bit in revulsion, which was hilarious coming from a monster about to kill him. He wiggled his limbs around a bit, ignoring the resulting pain and cracking of brittle rock in favor of hopefully enticing the creature to grab him already. Just hanging around was getting boring.

The breathing above him quickened a bit, and then there was a curved, warm surface under him, lifting slowly until his ankle was no longer carrying all of his weight. Remus considered yanking the injured foot free before the monster could do it for him, but before he could follow through, there was the silhouette of large fingers poking and prying at the rock until it really did crumble away.

The cupped thing he was splayed across had to be a hand too, he realized as he breathed through the sharp jabs of pain from his ankle being released. From the way the townspeople described it, he’d expected something less… human-shaped.

Between his ankle and his head rush, it was no surprise that he blacked out a little.

When he managed to wake back up, they’d returned to a tunnel that led outside, going by the fresh air he could feel against his face. It must have taken the creature a lot more time to make the trip while carrying him.

Whatever it wanted him for, he wasn’t sticking around to find out. He cast around for potential futures-- he rolls out of the grip and smacks his head on stone, he lands on his bad ankle and instantly blacks out again, he waits a little longer and is set on the ground outside by--

“You’re a kid?” he blurted, his vision of a distinctly human, distinctly child-shaped face fading away. The hand under him jolted, and the kid made a startled sniffle.

“You’re alive?” he asked in return, his voice deep and big but also rough with… tears? Jeez, had the kid really been that upset about some asshole bounty hunter biting the dust?

The hand curled in a little tighter around him, one fingertip coming to settle on his chest as though to check that he really was breathing. The motion was gentler than he thought possible for a giant, and he realized fairly abruptly that the ‘terrorized’ people in the town below were full of shit.

He’d hunted this kid for a whole night, and all he’d done in return was avoid him and then save his life. Some ‘monster’.

The kid seemed to remember himself, and flattened his hand back out before shuffling forwards more. There was a subtle shaking running through him, and Remus had the feeling that the kid was going to bolt the minute he set him down.

“Anyone else live up here with you?” he asked, flopping back onto the hand casually. He felt that giant gaze drop onto him and continued casually. “I came up here for a bounty but it turned out the townsfolk are dirty liars. I haven’t seen a single monster.”

There was a little surprised inhale from above him.

“In fact, this place is so nice I might camp here for a while,” he added, waving a hand at the forest ahead lazily. “Make sure to send off any other bounty hunters so they don’t waste their time up here.”

“R-Really?” the kid asked, his tone full of doubt and suspicion.

“Yup! I’ve been told I’m an absolutely detestable neighbor, disturber of the peace, totally unrecommended, zero out of ten,” Remus paused. “But I’m great at getting rid of uninvited guests!”

The kid took that last step out of the tunnel, the early light of dawn spilling over both of them. Remus sat up, waving his fingers in greeting as they both took each other in as more than silhouettes.

Apart from the fact that he was giant, the kid looked like... a kid. An long-limbed, underfed, lonely kid. One with distinct cuff-shaped scars around his wrists and ankles.

Remus shoved down his anger, tore his gaze away from the old wounds, and offered the kid a sharp-toothed grin. The kid tilted his head, wary. That was okay. Remus could handle wary.

“So, what do you say?”

“... Neighbors,” he replied, hesitant and hopeful. Remus cheered obnoxiously.

He was going to have fun making those people regret ever putting a bounty on this kid.

[bestiesenpai]

Hostage - Okkotsu Yuta

At first when I saw this my internal response was that there was nothing that I really wanted to write, no scenario that would warrant answering such a question. But I’ve given it time and well...what better thing to write than a horny for love delusional yandere? Gender neutral and Okkotsu in this has graduated from the school, I imagine him to be mid-20s 4.8k words

Content warnings: yandere shit(which in this context includes kidnapping, past stalking and being really fucking creepy), manipulation, noncon hand job

How long had you been here in this dark basement with only a red couch and a TV that wouldn’t turn on? There wasn’t a single window to tell you if it was day or night, no clock on the wall to say if it had been ten minutes or ten hours since you were kidnapped. You didn’t even know who could have taken you, knocked out from behind after hearing a mysterious voice.

There wasn’t a single lead to go on except for the fact that you would pass out from time to time and wake up to food on the low coffee table, hot meals that helped to soothe your otherwise empty mind and body for however short a time it allowed. Sometimes there would be candy stuffed into your pockets as well, candy that you never ate and let pile up in one of the corners of the room.

The door at the top of the stairs leading down to where you were stayed locked at all times and no amount of banging and screaming and trying to break it down worked. All your efforts were for nothing, you didn’t even make a scratch in the wood.

Whoever put you down here seemed too hesitant to show you their identity. You never heard anyone outside the door and whenever you thought you did, you would wake up however many hours later with food and no recollection of what happened before then.

Until today, when the door silently swayed open and there was the barely there tap of footsteps coming down to greet you. Scurrying behind the couch and crouching down, you were scared to finally meet your captor.

“Hello there.” He wasn’t at all what you imagined. A young man with noticeable bags under his eyes, hair with a few strands that fell into his face and an otherwise unassuming and slim build. His voice was soft and gentle like he was talking to a baby as he roused them from slumber.

He immediately noticed the way you were trying to stay away from him, making sure to keep the couch between you as he rounded it. A sad sigh left his lips, a short sound like he was already getting frustrated with what you were doing.

“Darling, why don’t you sit down? There’s a lot to discuss.” Gesturing toward the couch, he took a seat at the end. It was then that you noticed the sheathed sword he had on his back as he took it off and laid it on the table.

Your mouth hadn’t been used to speak to anyone in a long time, tongue heavy and foreign in your mouth. Having given up screaming for help a long time ago, you didn’t speak to anyone unless to yourself, and even then it had devolved to being just thoughts in your head.

So you shook your head no, trying to keep your sudden anxious breathing down to a minimum. You’d waited for this day to finally see who took you but now that he was here in front of you, just his presence brought you great stress.

“Are you feeling okay?” The man asked again, brows furrowing slightly. The look of genuine concern on his face is what caused you to speak, spiking anger in your heart.

“No!” You shouted, surprising both him and yourself.

“Why don’t you sit down, hm?” He patted the cushion next to him and you shook your head harder.

“No, no. L-let me go!” Tears were already beginning to collect in your eyes, some spilling out the sides. Were they from anger at being held captive? From how concerned he looked when he was the one who put you there? Was it from fear of what he could do to you? Perhaps hopelessness at the whole situation was starting to set into places you tried so hard to keep it out of.

“You shouldn’t yell, (Y/N), it’s not good for your throat.”

“What the fuck would you know.” Now anger was truly taking residency inside your chest, making it tighten with each pounding beat of your heart. This man had the nerve to call you by your first name as if he was a friend, the syllables rolling so smoothly off his tongue it sounded as if he had said it a hundred times.

“Don’t swear at me.” He snapped, face immediately going hard as he stared you down. The look made a shiver go down your spine, the anger quickly making space for fear to come as well. He sighed again, glancing at his sword before looking at you again. “Now please, won’t you sit down?”

This time when he asked, you listened. Hovering on the very edge of the cushion farthest from him, your entire body was painfully stiff and unyielding even to your own breathing. It was different when you were standing and he was sitting, it felt like there was a level of control that you still had.

But this felt like you were just a pitiful little rabbit with their neck caught right in a lion's mouth.

“Oh darling don’t cry, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His tone immediately shifted back to the soft and gentle one from earlier. Reaching his hand out, he stopped short of touching your arm when you curled yourself away. Putting his hand into a fist and tucking it back into his lap, he let out a sharp exhale. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t touch you, should I? You must be nervous now that I’m here.”

Sniffling and nodding were all you could do to answer him. Maybe there was a logical reason he might have taken you, there had to be a solution to whatever problem he had that involved you.

“It’s funny, I’d say. We’re soulmates and yet we’re still so nervous with each other.”

What?

“Why, it took me almost two weeks just to do this much! I finally stopped having Inumaki put you to sleep and-”

Huh?

“Before you know it this will all be a distant memory, we’ll be living together-”

“Wh-what the fuck.” Your voice was meek and trembling and there were fat tears streaming down your face that couldn’t be stopped now. Listening to this man go on and on about this life he’d made for the two of you all in his head was going to drive you insane.

“What was that?” He paused, a hopeful smile on his face. Glancing at him, you set your bleary eyes on the sword.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” As the swear left your lips, you flinched at his sudden inhale. “I-I don’t- I don’t know you. We’ve never met.” Burrowing your face in your hands was probably a bad idea, it was probably best to keep him in your line of sight, but you just couldn’t face him.

“Physically we’ve never met, but our hearts have. Our souls are connected, we just had to find each other.” There was a dip in the cushions and the ghost of his knee brushed yours.

“I don’t even know your name!” You croaked, further curling in on yourself by dropping your head to your knees. At this rate you were set to fall off the couch and onto the floor and you welcomed the reprieve not being next to him would bring.

“I’m Yuta. Yuta Okkotsu.” The first touch of his fingers on your shoulder made you yelp and jerk away, and you could imagine his hand hovering in the air. “But you can just call me your boyfriend, okay?”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Getting up from the couch the second time he touched you, you pressed yourself against the furthest wall next to a chess table with no pieces.

“Darling-”

“No, don’t fucking call me that!” Stamping your foot on the ground, you ignored his warning tone.

“(Y/N), I told you-”

“I don’t give a damn! I don’t want to be part of whatever bullshit you said earlier! Just- just let me go!” You were getting hysterical at this point, your whole body was hot and sweaty and your face was on fire. It was hard to hear anything over the ringing and pounding in your ears giving you headache.

Except you were able to hear the sound of a knife going through the air and feel it graze your cheek before sticking into the wall behind you. Everything fell away as you looked at the silver blade glinting in the harsh fluorescent light above you. There was just the tiniest hint of red at the edge, further proof that what you felt was real.

“I don’t mind you getting upset, I don’t mind you yelling and screaming at me. It’s a normal reaction to such a new situation.” Yuta’s low voice cut through the sudden silence and he stood up slowly, swaying slightly on his feet before planting them firmly on the ground. “But what I won’t have is such ugly words coming out of your mouth. That type of language doesn’t belong in a mouth as pretty as yours.”

He walked over to you slowly, building the tension with every step he took. It was then that you noticed, when he was only a foot away, that the silver of the knife matched the silver buttons on his shirt.

“If I have to remind you again, I promise I won’t miss.” Letting the sentence hang in the air, Yuta gave you a once over before grabbing onto your wrist and upper arm tightly and dragging you back to the couch. His strength was much more than you first assumed, there wasn’t a chance in hell that you could ever hope to wiggle out of his hold.

Sitting down with a huff, he pulled you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. Putting your hands on his shoulders, he settled his on your hips, making sure you were properly seated on his outstretched legs. Staring at the buttons on his shirt, you tried to avoid getting too close - keeping at least some semblance of an arms length between you and making sure your sex was far from his.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” It was amazing how easily his mood shifted from one to the other. What had just been a quite heavy and intense moment was washed away by a little uptick of his lips and the tilt of his head to the side.

The things you wished to say were lodged in your mouth, waiting on the tip of your tongue for you to open up and let them fall out. But you couldn’t afford to keep testing his patience like this, not after what just happened.

“I suppose.” So you bite your tongue hard and say what you think will get you closer to getting out. Whatever it is he wants you can give him so long as it keeps him happy and lets you walk free.

“I knew you’d come around.” The smile on Yuta’s face takes proper form, pushing the apples of his cheeks up and wrinkling his eyes. One hand on your hips dares to venture further onto the small of your back. The warmth of his palm would be comforting in another setting.

“Y-yuta.” It almost makes you sick to say his name.

“Yes?” It makes his eyes light up.

“When will I get to leave?” Somewhere along the line you’d stopped crying and now only your eyes burned with the memory of the tears.

“When I know you’re ready, (Y/N).” He said softly, rubbing a hand on your back.

“Ready how?”

“I just want to make sure of a few things before we start our new life together. Is that okay?”

Did you really have a choice?

“What things?” You pushed, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t worry about that right now. We’re together now and that’s all that matters.”

“Please tell me, I really want to know.”

“(Y/N).” He sang your name but it was anything but cheery. “I don’t want to talk about that right now, so drop it please.” Even though he was speaking his mouth barely moved, jaw locked tight in hardly hidden frustration.

“Okay.” You quickly let the subject go.

“Now darling…” Yuta brought a hand up to your face, trailing his fingers down your cheek softly. “Won’t you smile for me? You have such a pretty smile.”

The question of how he knew what your smile looked like cropped up in your head but you quickly stamped it out. Now wasn’t the time to worry about those things. Doing as he asked, you gave him your best smile.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” Skimming his thumb along your bottom lip, Yuta grasped your chin in his fingers. “I’ve been missing your smile so much lately, the recent missions I’ve been on have really put a damper on my mood.”

“I’m- I’m sorry to hear that.” Extending an olive branch wouldn’t hurt, right? It was clear he wanted your compliance in this scheme of his, desperate to have you love him. Your words shot straight into Yuta’s heart, making him bite his lip in to stop a shy giggle from coming out.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have my darling with me.” A light blush went over his cheeks and Yuta let a sliver of the giggle out. “But there is something that would make me feel even better.”

“What’s that?” It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant when his thumb touched your lip again.

“A kiss. Just one, I promise.” Licking his own lips, Yuta grabbed onto your jaw more firmly. “I swear I’ll be gentle.” Weighing your options, the inkling that it wouldn’t be ‘just one’ was in the back of your head. But as long as it stayed just kissing, maybe you’d be okay.

“One.” You repeated, allowing him to pull you in and close the gap between you. Kissing Yuta was something that, once again, would feel nice in any other circumstance. The texture of his lips wasn’t bad, his breath didn’t smell and he seemed to know what he was doing. Maybe in another world, you really could have been soulmates.

Breaking the first kiss to take a short inhale, Yuta immediately went in for another. The hand that was on your jaw slid up to the back of your head, holding it firmly in his calloused hand to make sure you didn’t move.

“Y-yuta!” Whining against his lips, you tried to push away from him.

“Just one, I know! I know but-” He mumbled back, the tip of his tongue daring to touch your pursed lips. “I can’t help it, I love you so much.” Crushing you against him, Yuta got his tongue into your mouth when you gasped for air. The urge to bite him arose and you almost did, but he pulled away right as you made the decision to.

“You said only one!” Giving his chest a hard push, you wiped the spit off your lips in disgust.

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Putting his hands on your back, Yuta grimaced at you. “I’m sorry darling, I just got excited! I’ve been dreaming of kissing you for so long, can you blame me for wanting more?”

You could blame him for that and a few other things. Wiping your mouth off again, you huffed angrily and avoided his sorry eyes.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t lie to you anymore, I promise.” Yuta mumbled, already forcing you closer again. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Yuta, no.” Shaking your head, you put a hand over your mouth. The blush that was on Yuta’s cheeks got darker and a hand gripped the back of your neck.

“It may be a bit soon, but there are other places where I can kiss you.” Latching his lips onto the side of your neck, Yuta sucked on the skin lightly. He didn’t want to leave any unseemly marks on you and he wouldn’t dream of using his teeth.

“Yuta, get off.” Tugging on his collar, you squirmed at the feeling. “P-please, Yuta, get off.” You were getting more desperate by the moment, accelerated by his lips going down the column of your throat and to the collar of your top.

“I just want to kiss you, (Y/N).”

“No, no I don’t-” As his head nudged your chin up, you started to sweat and really yank at the fabric in your hands. “I don’t want you to kiss me there, Yuta!” Your voice reached a crescendo and the soft sound of his kisses stopped. Pulling away slowly, Yuta kept his head ducked down.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Releasing the hold on your neck, Yuta smooths his hand down your back once more and threads his fingers together at the base of your spine.

Struggling to catch your breath, you force yourself to relax and let your head dip down, uncurling the fingers fisting the fabric of Yutas shirt and letting the blood naturally flow back to them.

As the silent seconds tick by, there’s something that comes into your consciousness that can’t be ignored. There’s already a good amount of heat built up between you and Yuta from the kisses you shared and the struggle that ensued.

But was he that much of a repressed man that just kissing your lips and neck had his cock standing at half attention? It seemed so, because when you made a face at it, he chuckled sheepishly.

“Sorry.” Yuta wasn’t sorry for what was happening. He didn’t feel remorse for any of this, especially not the thing that was causing you distress now. It was only natural for such a reaction to occur! You were squirming so much on his lap while he kissed you that it was like you were begging him to get hard.

Gently raking his nails up and down your back, Yuta stared hard at your lips. His gaze almost pierced right through you and he wasn’t subtle about wanting another kiss. Another slurry of apologies left Yuta’s lips as he once again grabbed the back of your head and forced you to kiss him. His words got mushed together, spoken against your lips as he tried to work his tongue into your mouth.

Whatever screams of protest you had didn’t matter in this moment, Yuta was a man on a mission and desperate to take what was his. He felt bad about pushing your boundaries and ruining the chance of growing an actual relationship any time soon, but those were things he was willing to sacrifice.

And after all, good boyfriends help their partners grow in uncomfortable situations.

Moaning in a high pitch when your crotch just barely grazed his, Yuta took advantage of the fact you were too busy trying to push him away to focus on your lower half. Grabbing you tightly at the hips, he dragged you forward and fully pushed you against the front of his pants.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He panted as he moved your bodies in tandem, getting bolder and bucking his hips like a sad teenager dry humping for the first time. This continued for a while and you were sure he was going to cum when he suddenly stopped and flopped his head back against the couch.

Fervently wiping off your lips, the urge to slap him came over you in a blinding rage, and you quickly swiped your hand down. Fully expecting to make contact with his face, you put all the strength you could into the motion only to be stopped by Yuta grabbing your wrist.

“Hitting isn’t very nice, (Y/N).” He sounded like a disappointed preschool teacher and when you raised your other hand to try and slap him he caught that one as well. Holding both your wrists tightly in his grasp, Yuta stared at your heaving chest as he thought about what to do.

“Let me go.” You said, trying to tug yourself free.

“Sshh, I’m thinking.” His eyes wouldn’t leave your chest and he licked his lips. “I think I know a better use for your hands.” Letting go of one of them, Yuta was quick to go to the button on his jeans and undo them.

Your fingers were touching his clothed cock before you had a chance to protest. The speed Yuta moved at was dizzying and you seemed to be about 10 seconds behind him, left to scramble and catch up on whatever he’d done.

“Just a little, please?” Yuta whined and gripped your fingers around his cock, digging into the fabric of his dark underwear and outlining the shape of his cock.

“Yuta…” Back were the tears, a light misting this time that blurred your vision. It was gross touching him, even as the scent of a minty body wash rolled off him. This was gross, the heat from his cock and the way the skin moved beneath your fingers all felt horribly off.

“Just be good for me, (Y/N), I know you can do that.” Giving your lips a quick peck, Yuta let out a shaky exhale. His hand was holding yours so tightly your hand pulsed, throbbing from lack of circulation.

Touching him through his underwear quickly became not enough for Yuta and he hurriedly pulled his cock out, shoving his underwear down his thighs a bit to make more room. Unbuttoning the large overshirt he had on, Yuta let out another exhale as the sweat evaporated off his body.

“Are you shy? Here, touch it like this.” Gingerly now he wrapped your hand around his shaft, squeezing with just enough pressure to make sure you were really holding it. You tried to avoid looking at it, staring at the tanktop Yuta had on underneath his other shirt.

Tilting your head up, he kissed you gently as he worked your hand up and down his cock, slowly loosening his hold the longer he went until he was able to let go and you were still stroking him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. “So, so much.” You whimpered in response, keeping your eyes tightly closed to avoid looking at him. “I’ve followed you for so long now, it feels amazing to finally be here with you.”

“Followed?” You didn’t want to know, you didn’t want to know, you didn’t-

“Six months. For six long, agonizing months I watched you from the shadows. Making sure you were safe, following you home from work to make sure no one messed with you, going into your home when you weren’t there to make sure you didn’t have the stove on-”

“Stop.” Sniffling back another wave of tears, you shook your head. “I-I can’t, please-”

“You’re right, I’m killing the mood.” Chuckling softly, Yuta kissed at the corner of your eye. Putting his hand back on yours, he sped up the pace and bucked his hips up. “A-and I really don’t want to do that.”

Kissing you again lest he start rambling again, Yuta moaned freely into your mouth. He had dreamed of this moment and so many others, staying up late at night just fantasizing about you touching him and finally being in his arms.

To say he was pent up was an understatement. Ever since he saw you, Yuta vowed not to touch himself, wanting you to be the only one that gave him such pleasure. It was a painful wait, but every time he saw you he knew it was worth it - and it was. He was already nearing an orgasm and it hadn’t even been that long.

“Oh darling-” His face started to screw up and Yuta broke the kiss, putting his head on your shoulder and making your hand go faster. “God I love you, (Y/N)! I lo-love-” He was babbling now, unable to focus on any full sentence coming out of his mouth. “Say it- tell me.”

“Say what?” You asked, struggling to keep your breathing even as you felt him get closer to the edge.

“You love me. Tell me you- tell me you love me, even if it’s not true yet.” Yuta was so close it hurt, but he refused to cum unless you said those words.

“I-I-” The desire to not say it was strong, keeping you from really forming the words. It wasn’t true right now and it would never be true. You would never love Yuta for as long as you lived.

“Say it, say it please!” Yuta wailed, his other hand gripping your waist so hard you were afraid he was going to break something. “I love you so much, just say it back!”

“I love you! Yuta, I love you, okay?” His hold was really starting to hurt and as soon as you said it, he let go. “I love you, I love you.” You repeated over and over until his body locked up and he came with an almost sobbing moan.

“Oh god, darling, I love you.” Yuta wasn’t crying but he might as well have been. His hand stopped for a brief moment before continuing, coating the back of his hand and your fingers in his cum. He kept going until he was able to squeeze the last drop of cum out of him, swiping at the tip with his thumb until the sensation began to hurt.

It was too quiet now in the room without Yuta’s frantic breathing and mindless babbles. Taking deep, gasping breaths, he forced himself to calm down and let go of your hand, letting his softening cock fall down against him.

“Here.” In his pocket he had a handkerchief and Yuta wiped your hand clean, diligently going between the digits and getting every last pearly drop. Throwing it onto the coffee table, Yuta collapsed back onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

His face was impossibly blissed out, a dopey smile stretching his face and showing off his teeth. He couldn’t be happier in this moment, the weight of your body on his lap a constant reminder that this was real life, the reality that he had been dreaming of and striving for for so long.

The door he had entered from creaked open much faster than when he entered, and there were thundering footsteps descending the stairs quickly. Yuta immediately perked up, hugging you close to his chest as he turned over his shoulder to look at who came in.

“This is a surprise.” There was a tall, lanky man standing at the bottom of the steps, his white hair sticking up in all directions. You wondered how he could see with a blindfold on and Yuta seemed happy to see him.

“Gojo, hello!” Rushing to fix his pants, Yuta helped you off his lap and stood up.

“I see you’ve finally made yourself acquainted.” Gojo grinned, his head flicking towards you for a moment.

“Mhmm! We uh- we’re having a great time getting to know each other.” Yuta flushed, trying to not make it obvious that his pants had just been undone and that you’d just been jerking him off.

“Well I hate to break up a happy couple, but there’s a visitor here for you. I think you’re going to have another mission soon.”

“Really, so soon? I just-” Glancing at you, Yuta bit his tongue. “I’ll be back soon.” Grabbing his sword and the knife still stuck in the wall, Yuta gave you one more look before walking past Gojo and up the stairs. As soon as the door clicked closed, you shot up from the couch and walked around to Gojo.

“Please, you have to help me, get me out of here!” Clasping your hands together in front of you, you pleaded as hard as you could. “H-he’s absolutely crazy, please help me!” Unable to look Gojo in the eye, you could only assume he was looking back at you from the way his head moved.

“That’s not very nice, now is it?” He questioned, quirking a brow and crossing his arms. “Yuta loves you so much, you shouldn’t say those things about him.”

“Sir please, you don’t understand!” Shaking your head hard, you let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t belong here! He kidnapped me, don’t you understand?!” It felt like you were the only sane one left in the world. Gojo chuckled and sighed, placing a large hand on the top of your head and leaning forward.

“Actually, Yuta wasn’t the one that actually kidnapped you.” A soft ‘no’ escaped your lips and Gojo laughed again, drinking in the sinking feeling in your gut and the way it twisted your face in agony. “It was me.”