#makes it difficult to write in the dark without glasses

[redrose10]

I wasn’t sure if you would see my comment or not but 13 and/or 21 with Yoongi please! Nice to see you back. I hope things get going a little smoother in your life 💜

I saw it! I just had like five different ideas for this one (Professor Yoongi, Single Dad Yoongi, Best Friend Yoongi…) and I kept writing and deleting them because I couldn’t decide. Thanks for requesting. I hope you like it!

Idol Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, divorce, alcohol, hints of stalking, poor mental health

Word count: 1,840

Prompts—

#13 How can I ever trust you again?

#21 We’re way too drunk for this.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Co-parenting your three year old daughter with your soon to be ex-husband Yoongi was difficult to say the least. He thought that chocolate chip cookies for breakfast were okay while you believed in a well balanced start to the morning. He had a strict minimal screen time policy, but you worked from home and sometimes you had to do what you had to do to keep her occupied even if that meant putting on her favorite movie two times in a single day. He thought it was okay to have bedtime after 9pm while you believed an earlier bedtime was the better option.

The situation was only made worse by the fact that you were still madly in love with Yoongi. Every time you saw him it was incredibly hard to not break down and cry and beg him to wrap his arms around you and hold you and make everything better. But you could never do that no matter how badly you wanted to. You were the one that requested the divorce. He only followed through without a fight. And maybe that is what hurt the most. The two of you just accepted what was broken without putting in any effort to try and fix it.

Yoongi was going to be over any minute to drop off your daughter after her week at his house. You put the finishing touches on your makeup and smoothed out the wrinkles in your new dress. You felt kind of silly getting dressed up like this just to see him for a few minutes, but it gave you some sense of normalcy.

The door bell rang. You hated that he always asked permission before entering now. This used to be his home too, but now he felt like a stranger.

When you opened the door you expected your daughter to come running in excited to play with her toys and sleep in her princess bed, but instead it was just Yoongi. Immediately your mind started going into panic mode worried that something may have happened. What if she was sick? In the hospital? Had an accident? Why didn’t he call you? Where is she?

Yoongi knew you very well and took control of the situation before you could spiral any further.

“She’s with Jimin. I just thought we could have some time alone to talk for a little.”, he said raising up a bottle of your favorite wine. You felt a sense of relief wash over you before you nodded in agreement and welcomed him in. After grabbing two glasses from the kitchen you joined him on the couch.

The conversation started out light with your normal pleasantries like how work was going and how your friends were doing. Then it turned to sadder subjects like the divorce and next steps after that.

The two of you made quick work of the entire bottle of wine and you were definitely feeling it. You could tell Yoongi was too thanks to the redness of his cheeks and the way he slouched back against the couch.

“You look really pretty Y/N.”, he finally said after scooting a little bit closer. His cologne made your stomach turn in a good way. It was smoky with a hint of citrus and a touch of cinnamon. On paper it sounded awful but it always suited Yoongi. Mysterious and dark yet bright and warm.

“Yoongi please…please don’t do this.”, you whispered before backing away to keep your distance afraid that you’d allow yourself to melt into him.

He fell back against the couch with a loud sigh, “What, I can’t compliment you now? We were together for nine years. We have a daughter together. We’ve been to hell and back, but all of a sudden me calling you pretty is where you draw the line?”

You jumped back like his words burned you, “No Yoongi, I drew the line when you cheated on me.”

Yoongi licked his lips as he tried to carefully peace together his next sentence. He didn’t want to say anything out of spite that he didn’t really mean.

The room fell into silence. Tears were already burning your eyes so you tried to get up to escape it, but you were pulled back onto the couch by Yoongi. “Y/N. Please don’t run from me any more. How can I fix this?”, he questioned nearly begged.

“I…I don’t know Yoongi. We’re so broken because of everything that happened. How can I ever trust you again?”, you sniffled.

An envelope had been slipped underneath the front door of your apartment. Inside were photos of your husband and some woman you had never seen before. They were at an interview. Outside his studio. At dinner with him and the rest of the group. There was no note. No explanation. You had the photos laid out on the kitchen table waiting for Yoongi when he got home. He tried to explain. Asked you to listen to him. All he kept saying was that he never cheated. But you were so hurt and distraught that you blocked him out and refused to listen. You packed up your daughter and left. After four days you hadn’t heard from him so you called a divorce lawyer. If he wasn’t going to fight for your marriage then neither would you.

You were brought back to the present when you felt him gently wipe away the tears that were collecting on your cheeks, “Well first you never should’ve stopped trusting me to begin with and you should have believed me when I told you I never cheated on you with her or anyone else for that matter.”

“Then who was she Yoongi? How did she have those photos of you?”, you questioned.

He sighed, “She was just a delusional fan. She’d been following me around for months. Showing up at my studio, photoshoots, interviews. She even tried to follow me home a few times. You were pregnant at the time and I didn’t want to stress you out about it because I knew you would get worried and worked up. I wanted to protect you from that stress. One day she disappeared and I assumed that the police had finally taken care of it liked I’d been asking them to, but I guess she was just laying low or something until she made her move. I don’t know. But I swear I never cheated with her. I would never do that to you. I love you too much Y/N.”

“Okay then why didn’t you tell me all of this before? All you said was you never cheated and left it at that. You never tried to fight for me…for us. So why now?”, you cried feeling a mix of anger and sadness and maybe a little regret too.

Yoongi grabbed your hand squeezing it tightly to bring you back, “I was in a really bad spot at the time. Mentally I wasn’t well and then this whole thing blew up with the photos and you got upset and I felt like it was all my fault for putting you through that. When you said you wanted a divorce I thought that maybe that was the best thing for you. Then you would be free from me. I just wasn’t thinking straight at the time.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything to you. I felt weak. I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I’m supposed to be your strength but I couldn’t even take care of myself at the time. I was embarrassed.”

“How are you doing now?”, you asked squeezing his hand again.

“Better.”, he smiled, “I mean as good as I can be given the situation.”

Finally you turned to look at him fully, “So what do we do from here?”

“I don’t know.”, he shrugged, “Whatever makes you happiest though.”

“Do you think we’re broken beyond repair?”, you asked in a whisper because you were too afraid of the answer.

But Yoongi shook his head, “No I don’t think so. I’m willing to take it slow and see how things work between us. We can fix this though. I believe in us.”

You agreed, “Yeah me too.”

Yoongi looked you up and down. His cheeks were still rosy from the wine, “Would it be moving to fast if I said I really really wanted to kiss you right now?”

You shook your head, “No because I’d really really like that right now too.”

When he leaned in and kissed you it felt like the first kiss all over again. That kiss was the first repair to the cracks of your relationship. You didn’t want it to end and it seemed like neither did he.

He leaned further in pushing you to lay back down onto the couch. His lips moved from yours down to your neck to your chest.

Internally you were struggling with not wanting him to stop after being away from him for so long and also wondering if this was going too fast.

“Yoongi uh…do you think…I mean…We’re way too drunk for this.”, you finally managed to find the words to say, “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just we’re still figuring things out and we need to move slow and we’re both really drunk and I don’t want there to be any regrets about this when we sober up.”

He pulled back and you had to stifle a whine of disappointment because deep you didn’t want it to end.

“Sorry sorry you’re right. I just…I miss you so much Y/N.”, he said.

You agreed with a nod of your head, “I miss you too…So how about calling Jimin and seeing if he will watch her for the night and then maybe…you could…spend…the night here. Then we can talk again in the morning.”

Yoongi smiled, “Yeah sounds good. But uh do you mean talk or TALK again in the morning?”

You let out a laugh, “We can talk again and then we’ll see how things are going between us and then maybe we can TALK if things feel right.”

“I can live with that.”, he said making you giggle as he stumbled to get up and get his phone from the entryway table where he left it.

The future was uncertain and you were scared that there were cracks in your relationship that would never be fully repaired, but for the time being you were both content with trying to fix what you could and moving forward to a brighter happier future together.

[littlelovelunette]

hii! i was wondering if you could write about sevika as a college professor and vi as kinda a bully in the classroom? like she always makes fun of the reader when she gets a question wrong. To put a stop to the bullying in the classroom sevika acts the two of them to stay after class to talk things through ... i'm not super creative in this part i just know i want it to be super dirty maybe some teasing and rough sex?? sorry 😔 ALSO I LOVE YOUR SMUTS <3 🩷🩷🩷

Improving Percentages (AU)

Thank you babyyy

contains bullying, smut, threesome (?), oral, ass licking, degradation, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, pussy slapping, fingering

it was maths class, you were seated with your legs crossed under the table, scribbling down on a piece of paper while you waited for the other students to join in.

sevika was also waiting behind a computer as she adjusted her glasses every now and then only to highlight how annoyed she was that a few students were always late to class— vi's friend group in general sense.

they were late to pretty much everything, and you weren't surprised that she was driving up on your professor's last nerves right now.

"any idea where violet is at?" sevika asked turning to you and you shook your head. sevika sighed at that, twirling her pen in hand as her foot tapped on the ground impatiently.

"let's start the class anyway—" just then the door swung open and vi walked in, eyes glued to her phone screen as she filed in the classroom followed by a few guys who were all jocked up and shit.

you couldn't help rolling your eyes at the scenario, looking at the professor, "you were saying?"

"let's began, im gonna hand out some worksheets, pass them will you?" sevika said with an uncharacteristically gentle tone making you wonder how hard the woman had been trying to restraint her anger towards the delinquent.

you started passing the worksheets around the classroom, walking over to vi's desk to pass the worksheets to her, "nice tits, mamas," vi winked your way

"violet," sevika said in a warning tone before you could retort to the indecent comment, you glanced at the professor with a grateful look as vi rolled her eyes at the both of you.

"just a friendly banter, teach." vi mumbled under her breath as she wrote her name at the top of the worksheet. you left to your seat and sat down, taking a deep breaths as you went through the questions.

the questions seemed difficult. if that wasn't enough, you could feel vi's gaze burning into your back. after a while you finally mustered the courage to raise a hand timidly.

"yes?" sevika responded without having to look back at your hand, she was typing away on her computer the stern gaze on her face never faltering. the reading glasses over her eyes only added to her sharp features

"could you, maybe... explain how to go through the first question?" you asked, voice wavering a little that sevika did note. she looked at you with a rare expression of understanding before she nodded and reached for her copy of the worksheet.

"pfft! the first one's easy!" vi said with a laugh, "doll if you can't solve the first question, you should back done a few grades!" vi laughed as did the rest of the class making your cheeks and ear turn red.

mathematics was your weakness and now being bullied about it, it made you feel like you'd never excel in the subject. your gripped the edge of the desk, pen clutched tightly in your hand as you quietly attempted the first question on your own.

sevika got up at her towering height walking upto vi's desk, she glared down at vi removing her glasses from her dark grey eyes, "one more comment from you miss violet..." she let the threat hang before she put her glasses back and walked to the board to break down the question number one for you. professor was always sweet to you because you, unlike most others in the classroom, actually were trying to learn

as sevika finished writing it on the board she sat down and let you all copy it down before she proceeded to help you understand it better through a summary of what she did.

vi audibly yawned loudly as if to mock the all amount of time sevika was spending behind your own inquiry. "violet, stay back after class," sevika said simply and turned to you fixing you with a very small smile, "you too."

Class ended eventually and the other students filed out leaving you, Vi and Sevika. Sevika got off her chair walking towards the pair of you two, closing the door, clicking it satisfyingly as she twisted the key in the lock.

"Now... As you both know, I've finished grading the mock exam papers." Sevika said and leaned against her desk, "Both of you did badly."

You stared at Sevika, you weren't completely sure if you believed her but Vi? Well, she didn't exactly seem like she didn't care until Sevika added, "And due to that Vi, you won't be able to continue basketba—"

"You can't do that!" Vi said infuriated

"I can, well unless," Sevika gestured you to walk towards her and within the flash of an eye she as you bent over the table, butt pushed up to the gaze of the two women, "You fuck her. Right here. Right now."

"What...?"

"You can't be serious," Vi said with a scoff.

"Oh, I am very serious," Sevika said as she walked up behind the desk, sitting down and crossing her arms, legs manspreading.

Hesitantly, Vi approached your body, grabbing your waist with surprising gentleness. "A-are you really—"

"Yes."

This was the first time you were hearing Vi stutter and you couldn't deny it was hot how both the incredibly muscular women were... Here... Dominating you.

Vi reluctantly hooked her fingers around the fabric of your underwear and pulled it down, pushing your skirt up to expose your lower body to herself. Her cheeks flushed a little seeing how wet you were at the mere thought of her touching you.

"You've been naughty haven't you?" Sevika smirked at the sight of you, your face inches away from hers.

You blushed, "I-i..."

Vi grabbed your ass cheeks, spreading them so she could get a clear view of both of your holes. She leant down and knelt on one knee as she stuck her face straight in your wet pussy, tongue slurping in and lapping at your cunt hungrily.

"F-f-" you were about to curse but cut yourself off midway seeing the look Sevika was giving you. The professor watched you moaning and whimpering as Vi continued her oral assaulting your poor sensitive cunt.

Vi started flicking her tongue over your clit making you gasp and whine even more than before, "People are gonna hear you, you don't want that now do you?" Sevika tutted before shoving two fingers down your throat, muffling out your lewd sounds, "Mmph..."

She continued fucking your throat, easing her fingers in and out making you drool around her digits as you sucked them. This felt so natural. Like you were made for this. Made to be used like a fuck toy for both these hot women.

Sevika's fingers never relented, shoving in and out of your mouth with a slow pace, making your drool sloppily spill out and onto the wooden desk on which you were bent over currently.

Vi's tongue was flicking, lapping and slurping down onto every last drop of your pussy juices, torturing your clit beyond imagination. You mumbled something around Sevika's fingers, "C-cuh...mwin..." You said incoherently and Sevika laughed, taking her fingers out of your mouth and wiping them hastily on your cheek.

Your juices spilled out, Vi drank them down, sucking on your pussy for a while longer before looking up at Sevika with something you've never expected from Vi before— puppy eyes.

Sevika laughed, the voice harsh in her throat. "We're nowhere done yet."

"B-but..." You began but Sevika didn't really listen. She knew you were enjoying this deep inside.

She pulled you up in her strong arms making you feel itty bitty tiny. Sevika placed you on her chair, grabbing your legs and spreading them easily as she secured them over the armrests of the chair.

Vi looked at her silently questioning her. Sevika smirked, "Now this time, eat her ass out." Vi, flushing redder than before, nodded and silently inched closer so she was on her knees in front of the chair.

Vi's tongue licked over the puckered hole of your ass, squeezing her eyes shut as she delved her tongue inside, slurping and sucking on the tight bundle of nerves. "O-Oh, g-g-gosh," you stuttered out and threw your head back, if that wasn't enough, Sevika started rubbing your pussy lips, spreading them and watched the arousal dripping out of your hole and down onto your asshole and Vi's nose.

"What a dirty little slut, getting off on your bully eating your ass out. Or do you simply enjoy your professor watching you through it all?" Sevika taunted as she brought a thick thumb over your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. Your hips jerked off the chair at the suddenness of her actions but you couldn't help let a loud moan rip through making Sevika's eyes widen and Vi stop her actions.

"Are you trying to get us caught?" Sevika slapped your pussy making you whimper a little, biting your bottom lip as tears prickled the corners of your eyes. Your pussy stung with the pressure of the slap.

"I'm sorry..." You mumbled and then Vi resumed her sucking, she seemed like she was enjoying it, her nose nudging your folds as she sucked and probed your asshole using her expert tongue. Sevika, on the other hand, resumed rubbing your cunt up and down, collecting the liquids on her fingers and smearing them all over your inner thighs before she suddenly shoved three thick fingers knuckles deep in your hole, a wet squelching sounds eliciting from your body making you blush and whine.

"G-goodness, please, please, please..."

"Yeah? You like that?" Sevika smirked and her fingers started pumping fast in your pussy, Vi's tongue didn't relent also continuing it's ministrations on your clenching asshole. "You're tensing up, are you close?" Sevika asked and then without warning you grabbed onto Sevika's clothes burying your face in them as you squirted all over the place, drenching Vi's face, floor and the chair.

Sevika, now amused, let out a small laugh as she took her fingers out this time gesturing Vi to suck them instead. Vi looked up with those submissive blue eyes before she wrapped her scarred lips around Sevika's fingers and sucked your juices off of them, moaning a little at the mere taste of it.

"Never bully her ever again," Sevika said with a hint of a warning in her tone, "Understood?" Vi nodded a little. You were exhausted, spread open on the armchair and covered in sweat from the intense pleasure you had just received.

Vi and Sevika cleaned up the whole place because, well, you weren't in a state to even walk at this point. Sevika looked at the both of you, "If anyone questions why both of you were in my classroom after class hours what'll you say?" She didn't sound anxious or paranoid, simply asking as if testing the both of you.

Vi, without wasting a beat, answered, "That we were helping you tidy up the classroom." Sevika nodded, "Excellent. Carry her home she looks like she's about to collapse." Sevika gestured to you and Vi chuckled before nodding and picking you up bridal style.

"I'm fine..." You mumbled before reluctantly wrapping your arms around Vi's neck, Vi surprisingly didn't seem to mind. But then again she wasn't supposed to anyone. She had her face in your cunt and ass.

"Also," Sevika called just as Vi had stepped out of the classroom, "Mock results." Sevika gave two papers to you since Vi's hands were full carrying you bridal style. You checked them. One was 78/100 that was Vi's and yours was 93/100.

"You son of a—" Vi began but Sevika shut the classroom door.

"Goodness." You laughed a little and leant against Vi's chest, your body was aching. Vi who was fuming a moment before felt the anger just melt away.

"Well...? I guess, she tricked us." Vi said with a sigh before she started walking out of the building, "But I wouldn't have it any other way. You're... Kind of okay." She added at the end after she realised she was about to compliment you.

"You're just a raw, pure idiot." You laughed before letting out a content sigh.

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Word Count: 1,506

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

[narcissistshandler]

can't stop thinking wooin would be some kinky shit in his relationship with the reader, maybe you can write something with top!sub reader? I leave the details for you

𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗦

pairing. wooin yoo x male reader

warnings. sub!amab!reader, brief mention of top!reader, dom!wooin, light breath play, masochist!reader & sadist!wooin, kink negotiation, mention of shibari, BDSM practiced in an unsafe and unhealthy way, sounding, urethral play, pushing/testing limits

a/n. I can totally see that and this ended up deeper than planned

"You'd let me take you to your limits, wouldn't you?" he ponders, unhurriedly, almost provocatively. Your silence prompts him to continue: "Can I choke you?" your boyfriend asks, his slender form weighing down on your chest already halfway through.

He sits firmly on top of you, his weight light enough to not crush you, but enough to make each breath shorter, more labored. Your lungs squeezed under the constant pressure, a warm, insistent weight. He wore that usual smile, toothy and bright as the devil himself over you; the two of you still completely dressed.

You tried to suck in air, a natural and unconscious instinct that was now difficult to exert. Your body seemed unwilling to cooperate, leaving you hyperaware of every cell in your body struggling to breathe. "Y-you can."

"What if I spank you a little?" he continued. Now it sounded like a taunt, not a real or genuine interrogation. The words went straight to your cock. The image of him hurting you, causing you pain, his perverse attention all on you. "Not enough to bleed, not if you don't want to."

"Yes," you bit out through gritted teeth, fingers gripping Wooin’s heels sunk into the mattress beside you. Yes, fuck, yes. Whatever he wanted. "What's all this, another kink negotiation? We've already done that." He shakes his head, his hands on your shoulders moving in a caress; the act makes the orange lenses of the glasses atop his black hair glow against the room lights, the flash attacking your skull. "And take off those glasses, the color of them makes me dizzy."

Wooin chuckles, but takes off his glasses, placing them somewhere near your head. The movement makes his weight sink even further onto you, your ribs complaining with a pressure that makes it difficult to breathe without deep pauses and the beginning of a hoarse cough. It seems like just a little more and they'll shatter like glass. But you don't ask him to get up, instead swallowing the discomfort, ironically, like air.

"I want to try something new, so we're just... updating your boundaries."

"You almost dislocated my shoulder with your blunt knots when we tried shibari, if I remember correctly. What now?"

"That was the first time I had to tie so many knots and immobilize someone, my skills will improve if we keep trying."

"I don't want to pay to see."

Wooin clicked his tongue. "Coward."

You ignored the taunt and asked once more, "What is it this time, Wooin?"

"I bought something for you— for us to play with," he said, the sensual tone that always promised danger. Maybe a night full of pleasures, maybe pain and discomfort, and why not both? Agreeing to your boyfriend's requests was always Russian roulette, promising either ecstasy or ruin.

Your eyebrow arched in doubt, urging him to continue.

His smile grew even wider and without warning, Wooin jumped out of bed. The pressure in your chest disappeared so abruptly that for an instant, breathing became impossible—a sharp pain piercing through your muscles. The air pressed like a stone into your lungs. The sensation was overwhelming and you rubbed the spot, trying to calm your racing heart and rapid breathing.

Wooin soon returned, sitting on the bed with a small box on his lap. One of his hands joined yours, helping to massage your chest, but there was no concern on his face, the eyes dark with excitement and the tent stretching the front of his pants that had been there since he settled above you earlier, still firm and present.

"Breathe," he instructed.

"I'm trying," you replied. "What's in the box?"

"A urethral sound."

"What now?" Your voice came out as a whimper. You choked on saliva and air and coughed.

"Breathe."

"I'm breathing," you repeat again, eyes locked on the mysterious box, "A what?"

"A urethral sound. You know? Like the ones doctors stick in your dick when you can’t piss on your own."

"Jesus."

"Want to try it?"

You didn't have much time to speak in response when Wooin kissed you. You could feel his smile against your mouth every moment. How could you deny him when he was already so excited about it?

"If you keep squirming I'll tie you up," Wooin warned. It was meant as a threat, but he sounded too tempted to do it to actually be one. You remembered the last experience involving Wooin and ropes, though. The sharp pain, the hot, thick despair as he struggled to undo the knots as you panted and then almost passed out when in the midst of it all, orgasm overtook you.

Your cock twitched between Wooin's fingers as you remembered one of your most intense orgasms.

You sighed, trying to stop your legs from closing once more at the contact of Wooin's cold, lube-slick fingers. What was about to come was already chilling enough to make you tense, you didn't want to add anything more to it.

"Damn, Wooin."

"Wooin?" he inquired, sliding the metal object over the sensitive head of your member in an action that sent shivers down your spine. It was very cold and hard against your burning skin.

"Sir," you immediately corrected yourself. "Just... just don't hurt me, okay? You know you love my dick too much to break it."

He rolled his eyes. "I have plenty of lube and skilled fingers, what could go wrong? Fear doesn't look good on you, [name]."

You didn't want to think about what could go wrong, so you chose to stay quiet and nod, silently granting Wooin permission to continue.

He didn't hesitate.

The long, straight stainless steel rod didn't look like much if you disregarded where it was supposed to go.

Breath caught in your throat in anticipation as Wooin aligned the hollow tip against your sensitive glans. Contrary to the anxiety in your stomach, you were already wet and sticky, balls so tight they hurt. "Deep breaths now." Your chest rises, slowly, ribs distending as air enters your nostrils, then falls, your breath comes out in a deep puff. This helps, it relaxes you and gives you something else to focus on if not the contact of the sound on your cock, the poisonous anticipation and— your teeth clash at the sensation of the object pushing against you, into you.

It feels too sudden and too much, too soon. Even though you know any movement could hurt you right now, your body wants to jump and run away.

A burning sensation accompanies the invasion.

Wooin is saying something above you. Nothing new, he never seems to shut up, his attention hungry and obsessed on his working fingers. But you can't focus on anything other than the sound sinking inch after remarkable, suffocating inch into your urinary tract. He's not as cruel and evil with it as you initially assumed, pausing every now and then to pour more lube over your cock before continue to press in and in and God help you, in.

It's a strange sensation rather than a painful one. It feels wrong, having something filling that channel, stretching a space that wasn't made for it, reaching a deliriously good point inside you that can only be due to its proximity to your prostate. Now you understood why Wooin always seemed to go crazy when you hit that spot inside him, begging and ordering—don't fucking stop, keep going, right there, hit that spot again. It was getting harder to think now, your breathing becoming heavier.

The steel seems to burn inside your hot, heavy member that pulses along with the rapid beating of your heart. It twitches shamefully and helplessly. Your fingers grip the sheets, feet clenching and thighs struggling to stay apart around Wooin. You feel the stem as if in your stomach, as if in some place you cannot quite describe.

It's too deep. It burns. It hurts... It feels good.

"How does it feel? It's all inside." Wooing makes a point as he proudly puts pressure on the metal tip peeking out of your cock with his thumb. The entire remaining length of the urethral sound is buried in your canal. "See? Didn't I tell you? I know what I'm doing."

No response.

Looking like the anticipation of your answer might kill him, he repeats: "Tell me how it feels to have a rod shoved up your dick."

You don't know if you're still breathing.

"...F-full... weird... I-I don't really know. I can't think." Your throat is dry and your eyes focused on the ceiling of the room, the light burning your orbs. Moisture had at some point appeared in the corner of your eyes, you didn't know exactly why the tears were coming. Wooin would kill you one day.

"You look completely helpless like this, poor dear. Makes me want to devour you."

Wooin's hand is too hot as it wraps around your member and before he even gives the first tug you're already squealing like a wounded animal. This doesn't stop him from continuing to torture you, masturbating you in long, slow strokes and thumb always resting back on the shaft to make sure it stays inside you.

"Too much. Too much."

A voice in the back of your mind screams at you to slap Wooin’s hand away, screams that this hurts, that the thick, oily feeling swirling in your stomach is not a good sign and that your dick is going to break. It screams: He will break you and you will never be the same again. It's a small, desperate, terrified voice that's drowned out by the pleasure rattling through your bones. Discomfort coils like fire in your muscles, much like the burning need for more.

Wooin always manipulated you like a skilled ventriloquist. You never wanted to be whole again.

"You little thing beyond repair," Wooin clicks his tongue as if in reprimand, but you hear the ever-present smile in his tone. "You're going to cum, aren't you? Fucking masochist."

It takes you a few seconds to form a response. The sheets feel like ice as they stick to your sweaty skin. “Can I, sir?”

"No, not yet."

But you weren't sure you could control yourself, push the crescent away—not if Wooin kept touching you, pulling your aching cock through the discomfort of the steel burning inside. Not when he sounded so breathless and excited just from having you exposed and suffering and dying at his hands. Because that's what all experiences with your boyfriend were: petites morts—little deaths—like dying and being reborn a million times. Like living hundreds of lives and feeling each one of them dissolve under his touch.

You would cum, soon, permission given or not, and it would probably hurt even after and through the pleasure. It would probably hurt to pee afterward too. But you knew the memory of the overload would be enough to electrify you and excite you again. You'd find your devil with the glasses and the cruel smile and ask: can we do it again?

"Just a little more... Let's see if we can figure out what your hard limit is today."

[ktficworld]

Jewel

Prologue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader, bucky barnes x f!reader (possibly dark)

Summary: World has collapsed and Hydra took over with Steve Rogers as the head. He gave people everything except freedom. But your normal life is thrusted into chaos as you are taken to the pleasure district where politics, power struggle and survival lied beneath the glamor. Would be able to survive the ruthlessness of this new world or lead a life in the shadows.

Warnings: Kidnapping, prostitution, dark themes including dark love interests, 18+

A/N: I just couldn't help. This idea won't leave my mind. I hope you will like it, my writing skills are a little rusty as I am posting a fic after almost a year.

You jostled as the bus hit a bump, making you clutch your bag harder in an effort to balance yourself. Glancing out of the window, you squinted your eyes at the harsh sunlight, the summer season was slowly becoming into full force.

You pressed your hands to your burning cheeks, at least you didn't have to deal with the scorching heat in the winters, whoever said that summer was their favourite, they were lying. Working would be more difficult now.

You snapped your eyes down as women in black tactical gear made their way through the city, eyes sharp and observant for their new 'jewel'.

The bus gradually came to a halt as your office came into view. You smoothed down your ivory dress, paid your fare and stepped out, your heels crunching on the freshly made pavement. Your eyes fell on the women in black unform again making you crumpled your dress into your fist and trudged towards your office with your head down.

The tall trees bellowed in the gust of wind that were planted as road dividers. There was much more greenery now. There was no place left without. No ruckus or fights happened it public spaces. Everyone was quiet now, everyone followed the rules to the tee because they were aware of the examples.

So much had changed in the last five years, the snapped that brought people back destroyed the world again as the population skyrocketed, leading to starvation, homelessness, poverty and other various problems. The governments collapsed, not just few, but entire world collapsed and hydra took over.

Not the fascist hydra but a hydra captured and made by Steve Rogers. Who would have thought that the man preaching for freedom would morph into a ruthless dictator? Who would have thought that the Natasha who suffered so much as a woman would deal other women with the same faith? Who would have thought that the once tormented and brainwashed Bucky would become winter solider again by his own volition? But it happened.

People had everything they ever wanted, except freedom.

There was nothing other then hydra and its rule all over the world, nothing really changed for you though. You still went to work, still paid your bills, still supported your parents whenever they needed you. You now just had to steer clear of the black widows.

It was scary at first but you have made your peace with it. You didn't wear makeup, didn't wear nice clothes, didn't leave the house till it was absolutely necessary and overall lived in the shadows. You didn't want to lose your life.

You pushed open the glass door and sighed in relief when the cool AC air of the office hit your warm body. Skirt fluttering with each step as you neared your desk, you deposited your bag on the desk and sat down, bracing yourself for the long day.

"You're late?" Martha, the lady who sat beside you chided, though the concern was thinly veiled. She was a woman in her late 50s, on the brink of retirement. She was the mother hen of the office and why wouldn't she? She radiated warmth like sun on a chilly day.

"Yeah, the bus was late, a flat tire." You said with a smile as she handed you her signature tea.

"You should carpool with colleagues. I know owning a car is not good for safety but carpooling can do. I was so worried when you didn’t arrive on time." She suggested, adjusting her glasses.

Of course she was worried, anyone with an ounce of care for women would. But you heaved a sigh and shook my head. "Carpool with who? Female colleagues? That would just make us an easy target and male colleagues also don't make me feel comfortable. At least in a bus, there are many different people, making it difficult to manipulate or threaten them."

Her eyed softened as she regarded you, her green eyes amplified by her glasses. "Honey, you should get married."

Not again.

"Martha, it won't really make a difference. I have seen them capture married women." You argued. Blowing the tea and taking a sip.

"But that is significantly less compared to single women like you. They don't want used goods for their harem."

You grimaced at the ruthless objectively but she was correct. "I have no prospects. I don’t leave my house unless absolutely necessary." You murmured.

"Then you should go out and have prospects. It's dangerous out there, honey, especially for pretty girls like you." She fussed and turned on her laptop, prompting me to fo the same.

You chuckled at the praise and shook your head. "Thanks for the compliment Martha but I have been pretty invisible throughout my life, even when I didn't dress like a granny to avoid black widows."

"All I'm saying is that you need to be safe and being alone, without a man is very unsafe." She advised.

You sighed and gave a reluctant nod. "I'll try, now let's get to work our deadline is close." You said and turned to your laptop. Martha let out a surprised hum as if she had forgotten that she was at work.

You did your work diligently, reviewed files, took notes and worked on the impending project. As much as you liked technology, staring at the laptop screen for eight hours straight made your head pound and eyes water from fatigue and glare, you just wanted to go home and sleep now.

Thankfully, 10 to 12 hours shift were gone now as overtime was increased by the government and companies didn't want to pay for some extra work, they just increased the work load for the working hour instead.

Rubbing your tired eyes, you turned off the laptop and slung your bag on your shoulder on 6. p.m sharp. Walking out of the office, you waited for your bus to arrive. You hovering by the office guard to not be alone.

After waiting for 15 minutes, the distinct horn of the bus caught attention as you waved the guard goodbye and stepped inside the red double-decker bus and took a seat in a secluded area so that no one would try to strike up a conversation.

You stifled a yawn and jerked your head violently to keep yourself from falling asleep. You didn't want to miss your stop or wake up in an unknown room.

Your wrapped your arms around you suddenly, your eyes flitted around the bus and outside. Nothing. Your stomach churned and you shrunk in your seat. Was someone watching you?

You shook your head. No, you were just being paranoid. But the feeing just wouldn't go away so you pulled out your phone and earphone, jazz filling your eyes as you hummed to the lyrics.

The music made the bus ride home fleeting as only a few specks of sunshine was left on the horizon. You clicked the pause button on the current song and moved in front of the bus as your apartment neared.

You paid the due fare and and left the bus. You shuddered, heart beat quickening and breath shortening into huffs as the same feeling of being watched permeated through your body.

You didn't get the chance to process it or check your surroundings as a SUV pulled up, someone gripped your waist from behind. A scream tore out of your lungs as the prickling pain of a needle hit your neck.

The world blurred, dark dots swimming in front of you as you desperately tried to claw at your awareness but you were loosing the battle. Your eyes were shutting down, your body was going lax, and your mind was saying just to give up and to the drift into keep you wanted for so long. So, you did.

You were shoved inside the black SUV, door slamming shut as a nonchalant voice chirped before everything went raven.

"Finally, found her..."

[san8ny]

hey girlll, i’m like literally ovulating right now 😭 could you write about sneaking up on ellie and pulling her away for a quickie?? (to feast on her pussy)

THANK YOUUU XXXX

I Treat You Well-ish

!: haven’t written anything in a bit with classes and clubs but i needed to complete ur requests, hope this is somewhat digestible im sorryyy- ?: Oral, and brief alluding of Ellie being seen as just a fwb..

-

“Mm, and here I thought you couldn’t stand me..” She murmurs tiredly, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she tilts her head down, an olive-toned hand woven into your tresses from where you kneel before her, a throbbing ache pooling inbetween your legs as you continue fumbling with her drawstring—“Never meant it like that.” You retort under your breath once she finally gives you a hand, strumming 2 slender fingers inbetween the tight loop to undo the difficult knot easily. Me next!

“I’m pretty sure ‘I hate Ellie!’ can only be interpreted one way, but i’ll let it slide per usual.” She sighs once the damp-warmth of your drooling tongue meets first contact with her cotton boxers.

Eager, weren’t you?

“Easy…” Ellie’s breath seemingly hitches, dark bags under her eyes as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of her confines rather impatiently, “Sorry, I haven’t done this since our last time so i’m a bit rusty.” You reply softly. Ellie hates how your words can be interpreted as exclusivity— who exactly was she to think so, or get happy at that?

“I’m gonna finish early if you say that shit.” She groans, turning her face away as it reddens slightly. So much for getting homework done tonight..

What even was this anymore? It seemed oddly distorted from the idea you once brought to her when your good-for-nothing partner had dropped you out of the blue, Ellie still remembering how out of it you were during that entire time-period.

‘Look, we both hate eachother but how about trying it out? It’ll relax us both, no?’

Wrong! Ellie hasn’t had one calm night since you started making appearances in her fucking dreams, which has now become a nightly occurrence for her. Even the strongest of melatonin couldn’t ward your evil off

You were a walking contradiction in her eyes, acting like you wouldnt touch her with a 10inch pole, yet sending back-to-back messages detailing in the most gruesome way the stuff you’d let her do to you if she just pulled up to your dorms right now. Which, let’s not get shit twisted, she has a few times here and there

A true slut you were, but she wasn’t too far behind either

“You only ever call me when you need me anyways.” Duh. She finally yawns, leaning down to thumb your lips apart as she initiates a deep kiss, that is, before shoving you inbetween her own legs, locking you in with her knees as she mindlessly reaches for your cellular device

It’s seem like she’s sighing for the upteenth time in a row, lomg-sought bliss displayed on her face while you award her with kisses all around her pussy, an exceptionally long one on her hidden-away clitoris, awarding it a few laps as you smile

Speaking of which, You really weren’t lying when you said you needed it, Ellie scrolling to find your only recent contacts making up to be yourbparents and close friends she somewhat knew of, however, her face immediately drops when she stumbles upon an unsaved number, scoffing when she sees the strings of clearly unreciprocated paragraphs sent on the persons end, your responses not even being more than 3 words each— She wants to laugh, but she really can’t. She’d been in that losers shoes before, not like you see her any different with or without the sex, or so she thinks

A stifiled moan escapes her once you begin pinching at her inner-thighs, your own expression shifting into clear annoyance when you realize Ellie’s attention isn’t all on you currently. “W-what? Am I not doing this right or something?” Before you know it, she’s accidently clicking the random contact, throwing it onto the bed while she practically steers your head in accommodation to the tempo she wants, the tension she has on your hair bringing slight tears to pool at your pretty waterline— didn’t you want her attention?

Each time your mouth slams onto her gushing pussy, it gives you the lightest wafting of her scent, though you’re way too pussydrunk to really identify it— she reminds you of laundry detergent in the best way however, like the cliche advertisements you’d see about smelling like a fresh load of laundry. You don’t even notice the periodic moments Ellie has to physically move your head herself because of how dazed you are..on her damn smell..

Clearly unbeknownst to either of you, the recipient on the other end of the phone is listening in on your businesses

“OUCH!” You yell out abruptly, clicking back into reality— Ellie had managed to sneakily reach a hand down to pinch your puffy breasts through your thinly-veiled tanktop, causing you to briefly come up for some needed air and a scolding, “You’re being mean! Touch them nicer, ‘arright? They’re sensitive.”

She chuckles at your reasoning, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before immediately furrowing her eyebrows together close-knitly, an all too familar elasticity beginning to snap in her lower stomach, “S-shit, baby, i’m about to— i-in a bit, you still hungry?” She teases, overstimulation washing over when you immediately return to work in an even desperate manner to get her off, “Almost!” You slur, burying your face deeper into her center, almost feels like the air in your lungs was being sucked out

Wouldn’t be the worst way to go out..

“Well, i-im gonna need your highness to hurry it up..” Ellie faux-mocks, toes curling when you unexpectedly ram your fingers into a certain spongy spot rather harshly, “S-shiiit…

“Cum for me? Pretty please?” You attempt to match her whines, leaning up to bury your wet face against the burrow of her neck, all while your digits make play inside of her, “I wanna make Ellie happy.” You pathetically admit, raising your head from her nape to, instead, lick the outer shell of her ear

Ellie’s body immediately shudders at the combination of words and actions, slightly convulsing as splashes of electrifying arousal pulsate across both of your own body; her grip on you doesn’t ease up either, with blunt nails digging into your plush sides, threatening to draw blood if they hadn’t already,

“Did..you?..” Ellie rasps, not being fully able to complete her sentence, sweat pooling in crystal beads at the meeting point of her hairline when she catches her breath and something she’d noticed

“Did you just orgasm untouched?”

“D-don’t push your luck!” You hiccup embarrassingly, grabbing your phone where it lays besides you on her comforter to check how lomg you two had been at it, surely your roommate had to have texted you about your late-night whereabouts, though the nearly 1 hour call in-session feels like an ice-cold bucket thrown at you instead

“Oh my—“ Immediately ending it, you embarrassingly shove your face into a pillow to scream. Ellie looks at you bizarrely, leaning over to meet your face more directly, “Sex so bad you’re trying to..suffocate yourself?” She has the audacity to joke,

“You called my building RA!”

She pauses, crossing her legs as she scratches the back of her neck, “Wait— so— ..no, that makes sense— ah, forget it! I, uh, thought it was some dude you were messing with or something.” Ellie sheepishly admits, “Given the stuff you say, I just thought you had other people or ‘somethin.”

“Wait, what do I say?”

“you know, like the whole thing about me not being your type ‘n all.”

You hate how a small frown shows on your face. Despite how you act, you couldn’t help feeling like a coward for how you tried evading your feelings for Ellie by just ghosting her all those weeks after you’d been the one to even start this.

Instead, you lay back down where you both were sprawled and cup her cheek, “I don’t think anyone buys what I say anyway, even you.” You murmur, kissing her cheek gently

[kupidachillea]

Hello, I really like your yandere Olympians with a reader. You can make a yandere Poseidon with a reader separately, if it’s not difficult for you, of course Sorry if there are mistakes here, I’m just making mistakes with the translator😅 I just recently found out about Tumbl and you are the first one I write to and ask for something.

Poseidon x Reader (Hcs or imagines)

Author note: Eeeee Poseidon requests! I actually had some fun with this. Also thank you for requesting.

TW (Trigger Warning): Mentions of kidnapping, light stalking, mainly fluff.

CW (Content warning): I had this imagine set in the modern day because I wanted to explore more of how the gods would handle modern day lovers. Again- this isn’t accurate to the actual lore but some pieces are taken from it and inspired some of the things I put in here.

🌊- You had just moved to the seaside, wanting to get away from the busy city and just relax for a while.

🔱- You had found a nice home to purchase by the beach and took full advantage of it, collecting shells and sea glass, playing in the water and just sitting and enjoying the Greek sun.

🌊- Though, at times you can’t help but feel watched, however you can never tell where it’s coming from. At first you thought you were being paranoid since there were some people that occasionally came to the beach too but over time, the longer you lived by the water you felt eyes on you.

🔱- Turns out you weren’t being paranoid. A certain sea god was watching you, ever since you moved in. You had caught his eye..

🌊- He just couldn’t take his eyes off of you, it’s been quite some time since he’s had a mortal lover..it’s been a bit difficult as times have changed. You can’t simply kidnap someone without it being noticed.

🔱- “How bothersome..” He would think to himself. He was seriously considering snatching you up every time you came to the beach, after all- who wouldn’t want to spend the night with the god of the sea? So he thought you wouldn’t mind…

🌊- However, something held him back. He wanted to do things differently, believe it or not. He looked back on his memories and most times he acted rashly he ended up almost always chasing his ‘lovers’…he didn’t want to repeat history..maybe he should try human courtship for once.

🔱- And so- with that thought in mind he assumed a human form and decided to meet you on the beach.

🌊- Today was one such day, you were relaxing as usual, sorting out some shells before you felt the presence of another being looming over you. You looked up and your brows rose as you caught glimpse of the handsome man before you.

🔱- A smile tugged on Poseidon’s lips..he could already tell that his human form impressed you, however he can sense your suspicion. He pushed back a few strands of his long dark hair and greeted you.

🌊- Introducing himself by a different name to hid his identity and you answered back, greeting him and telling him about yourself.

🔱- At first you had a weird feeling about this strange man but you ended up brushing it off. Mentally telling yourself that you were just being paranoid.

🌊- Eventually you warm up to the stranger as days go by. You both kept meeting at the beach and somehow he always knew when you were there. You decided to jokingly bring that up in your next conversation with him.

🔱- “Hey, you know it’s kinda odd, right? How you know exactly when and where I’m going to be on the beach.” You chuckled softly as sat on the sand next to the dark haired man. Poseidon in human disguise hummed in acknowledgment.

🌊- “Oh is it?” He would ask in response. If only you knew that he was somewhat stalking you..waiting and watching for when you’d be out here. He was honestly getting very antsy waiting so long to have you but he somehow managed to mentally will himself to be more patient.

🔱- You nodded before continuing. “Yeah..you wouldn’t happen to be stalking me, would you?” You would laugh. Clearly joking about the entire thing though Poseidon just cocked a brow at you and smirked which in turn made your smile drop and your brows furrow.

🌊- “Wait..I was joking..I’m not serious..” You said quickly, hoping he’d take the hint and admit to not stalking you but of course that’s not how things went.

🔱- “I know you were joking, dear…but I have to be honest..I have been ‘stalking’ you..only a little.” Poseidon admitted and you pressed your lips into a thin line. Should you excuse yourself and leave? Or just stay put..you don’t know why but you felt oddly compelled to stay seated for a moment longer and hear him out. “Why..?”

🌊- “Why?” Poseidon replied back, his brows raising curiously before he smiled. “Why not? You interest me, little mortal. After you appeared on my beach I just had to have a closer look.” After he said that you felt your confusion only grow. ‘Little mortal’?… ‘His beach’?. Something wasn’t adding up.

🔱- “Wait- who are you…?” You finally spoke and it was as if you were seeing who he truly was for the first time. Because you were. You watched as his smirk formed into a grin and his appearance shifted. Causing you to backpedal away on instinct.

🌊- Now with his human form dropped he could finally be at ease. Poseidon let out a deep sigh. “Oh how I was waiting for this moment, for me to reveal my true self to you..I am Poseidon..god of the sea.” He would utter, his gaze falling back to you as he knelt down and took your hand. “Come now..don’t be afraid of me, dear one…” he cooed.

🔱- You weren’t sure what was happening anymore. You would’ve laughed at him and assumed he was joking if it weren’t for the fact he was kneeling in front of you after a short transformation. You took a deep breath before answering.

🌊- “Okay..um..Poseidon..what do you want with me?” You would ask as his thumb gently glided over your knuckles. A soothing gesture on his part, probably trying to get you to relax. The lord of the sea smiled softly.

🔱- “What I want with you? Isn’t it obvious? I want you to be my partner..my lover.” He would say, his voice as calm and as comforting as the soft sounds of the sea.

🌊- You looked at him in slight surprise and disbelief. Lover? You weren’t too sure how to take this. On one hand it was sweet and you were curious to see where this relationship would go- but on the other hand you were still skeptical of the god. Poseidon noticed your hesitancy and smiled a little as he moved his hands to caress your cheek. “We can go slow if you want…I’ve been patient and waited this long..so I think I can handle it if we take things one step at a time..” The sea god uttered with a slight sigh.

🔱-You relaxed at his words and nodded a bit. You supposed you could give this relationship a shot. Who knows, maybe having a deity as a boyfriend won’t be so bad. “I-…Okay..I accept your offer Poseidon.”

🌊- He would grin as the words left your mouth. This was perfect- exactly what he wanted. He was about to speak but you cut him off. “But! But- we go slow, like you promised. No rushing into anything serious at the moment…please?” You would spoke softly, your browns furrowed as you waited to hear the sea god’s response.

🔱- Poseidon would chuckle and nod. “Of course, my dear..We go slow.” He answered before placing a small kiss on the back of your hand. Finally he had you’re in his grasp, it was just a matter of time before he’d have you completely falling for him..and he intended to make that happen. You were his darling mortal after all..

Author note: Oof- this took way too long for me to do. I apologise for that. A lot of things were happening in November and I’m still sick lol. But on another note- I might do a part 2 to this if someone asks but all in all thank you for the request, Anon. I’m still working to finish the others too.

[hiramaris]

I'm gonna request something for haley bc i love how you write her and not so obsessed. im not sure if you are writing for request? but im gonna give my shot

a prompt where haley as wife, and the farmer was late passed midnight because of mining shit. and almost died (lmao). she got home safely, but limping with her wounds and bruise. then there's haley, saw her wife barely walking and her reaction, just comfort, fluff, worried and taking care of the farmer.

that's all, thanks, no pressure <3

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 7

Chapter Summary:

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: violence, blood

Notes:

thanks to anon for being the first-ever reader to request a prompt. I initially thought to make a separate fic for this one but I realized why not make it as a new chapter? There would be some adjustments to the prompt, instead of Haley being the farmer's wife, she'd be somewhere in between a friend and a woman struggling to put a name to what she's feeling with the farmer. I'm really sorry anon for not following the route you're hoping for but I do hope you'll like this one.

Summer 9

The sound of thunder clapping from above her made it difficult for sleep to come that night. Despite the late hour, the darkness outside was illuminated intermittently by flashes of lightning, casting eerie shadows across the walls of her room.

Rain drummed steadily against the glass, a constant reminder of Yoba's fury. The room felt oppressive, suffocating almost, as if the storm had seeped its way indoors, invading her sanctuary.

She had always hated rain. Well, the main reason is it's horrible weather for a dashing photographer like her. Not only does it ruin her hair that she spent all morning fixing, but it could also ruin her equipment. Oh, did she also mention it gives an awful lighting?

She also shares the same level of dislike for storms because they destroy the calmness of rain. It's aggressive, cold, and destructive.

That's why the moment the news announced there would be a storm for the next three days, she was quick to stock every little favorite snack she could think of because there was no way she was waltzing outside in that kind of weather.

Haley popped out a tired eye as she looked at the clock beside her.

1:56 AM.

Oh, joy it's almost two in the morning. How in Yoba's name could she go outside with bags under her eyes probably heavier than all of Emily's hippie gems combined?

'I mean– there's always a concealer,' she thought but quickly dismissed the idea.

She has been minimizing her makeup since... since whatever (when you told her she looked prettier even without them) PLUS with summer's sweltering heat, layering on cosmetics seemed suffocating.

With a groan, she pushed herself up from the bed, determination flashing in her tired eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, hoping that this little solution would finally give her the sleep she'd been craving for.

But as she reached for the milk, a cacophony outside shattered the stillness of the night. Haley froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It's kind of hard to tell with the harsh rain and thunder and everything.

As if to confirm that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, a set of audible coughs echoed just behind the door. Haley's heart thumped so loud she was afraid it might come out of her chest.

That could only be an intruder.

In Haley's sleep-deprived mind, she didn't stop to even realize that Pelican Town had never experienced a robbery in the dead of night. Instead, she quickly bolted to her room, grabbing Alex's old baseball bat he had left here one time, not even having the presence of mind to wake up Emily to face this 'intruder' together.

****

Spoiler alert, it wasn't an intruder but an idiotic farmer covered in dirt and unbelievably wet from the rain.

You were holding your rucksack close to your chest for dear life with your sword held tightly by your other hand when Haley found you slumped against the door.

"What the hell are you doing outside at this hour and in this weather?" was the first words she uttered when her eyes spotted you. She was quick to help you up and bring you inside, not even minding the mud and water accumulating from where you stood.

When you didn't respond, Haley met your eyes.

Haley's heart nearly stopped at the sight beyond her. Without being hidden by the darkness, she could finally see your whole state.

There standing is the farmer herself. Your white hoodie was tattered and looked burned. Your hoodie's sleeves are ripped too up to your upper arms, and your left arm has a cut with fresh blood still gushing out of it.

You were missing the other pair of your shoes, and your hair was disheveled and covered with slime. You even had multiple scratches and scrapes all over your body. Your right cheek has some small scratches, and blood is rushing out of the wound on your forehead.

"Yoba..." Haley's voice was barely a whisper as she gently cupped your cheeks, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Her eyes flickered to the gash on your forehead, blood still seeping from the wound. "What happened, Y/n/n? We need to get you to Harvey!"

You shook your head weakly, struggling to stand upright. "No... H-harvey," you protested, your voice strained. "H-he'll kill me."

"Y/n!" Haley's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace as you nearly stumbled over her. She wanted to reprimand you, to demand answers, but the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart against her chest prevented her from doing so.

For now, she needed to make sure you were okay.

You only grunted in response as you gave in to her, allowing her to guide you onto the cushions.

"I'm just gonna get a towel and the first aid." Her lips trembled as she said those words.

In record time, she was able to get everything she thought you'd need, afraid if she missed any more seconds you wouldn't be breathing.

When she returned to the living room, she almost went ballistic when she spotted your form unmoving from your seat.

"Y/n! Wake up, for Yoba's sake! Don't you dare die on—" Haley's words caught in her throat as you rasped out a response.

"...oh, look an angel," you managed with a small grin, your tired eyes fluttering open.

Haley couldn't help but smile softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Very funny," she replied, relief flooding through her as she saw you conscious, if only barely.

Wordlessly, she draped a towel over you, tucking it gently to ensure you stayed warm. It was the same blanket she used during storms like this when she felt cold herself.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way to the fireplace, adding more wood to the fire in hopes of warming you further.

"Keep your eyes open, please? I'm just gonna get some rags to clean up your wound," she requested gently.

She placed the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of you before heading to the kitchen to gather clean rags and a sponge.

Returning to the living room, she filled a bowl with tap water and carried it carefully as she made her way back to you.

With great tenderness, Haley cautiously wiped the blood from your body with the sponge, dampening it in the tap water she had prepared. She winced as the color of the water turned red.

"You lost too much blood," Haley commented, masking the shakiness of her voice. She wasn't a great fan of blood but she was not naive with treating minor injuries either. She silently thanked Yoba for letting Emily force her to learn a thing or two about first aid.

You only grunted in response to her observation.

"What happened, Y/n?" She couldn't hide the worry in her voice even if she dared try. "I should call Harvey and get you to the clinic."

You groaned as she accidentally applied too much pressure to your wound. "No... it's okay. It's n-nothing, I'm fine."

"These serious injuries don't shout nothing, Y/n. What the hell happened?"

"'I went to the mine..." you explained, and Haley waited expectantly for you to continue.

"It's storming."

"I know..." You couldn't look at her in the eye. "It's just that there's not much going on in the farm so I thought I should continue my expeditions in the mine. I thought it would be safe but..."

"But it wasn't." Haley couldn't helped but deadpan.

You visibly winced, unsure if it was because of your wounds, Haley's biting remark, or just both. "I heard from Marlon I could find rare items once I reached the hundredth floor, which I did," you explained, tapping your rucksack beside you. "But I should have known better that those items are rare for a reason. Not because they're hard to find, but because they're hard to acquire. Once I got hold of this baby," you gestured to your bag, "the whole cave was swarmed by slimes and shadow people."

"What?" Haley's voice sputtered with disbelief, her brows furrowing in concern. "Shadow people? I thought they were just myths!"

You tried to nod in confirmation, but Haley kept a firm hand on your cheeks, preventing the movement. "Uhuh, they're very real," you affirmed, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "And I can say they aren't really fond of us humans and, uh, dwarves I think. They're more scared of me than intimidating. I tried not to, y'know, hurt them."

"That's a stupid idea."

"I know," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor. "But given our history with them, I didn't want to give them any more reason to hate us. Plus, I was the one invading their homes."

Haley let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with weariness. "Still, you should have fought back. What if they had killed you in there? How would we have known you were down there and rotting? You're the only one crazy enough to go down there anyway."

You didn't speak after that, and Haley mistook that as compliance. She was too busy fuming at your lack of self-preservation to notice the frown creasing on your features.

After managing to cleanse the visible injuries of your body, she began to grab some clean rags to apply some pressure on your forehead and your forearm to keep your bleeding to an absolute minimum.

She cursed softly under her breath, trying to think of what to do next.

"…Y/n? Y/n, wake up, stop sleeping," Haley's voice was quiet, her tone laced with urgency as she gently tapped your cheek.

Your eyes pulled themselves open and looked tiredly at her. "Hn?"

"I need you to sit up straight and pull your hoodie off. What do you have underneath?" Haley's words were gentle but firm as she carefully supported your shoulder and hip.

"…just a tank top."

Slowly, you strained to sit upright, wincing with discomfort. Haley could tell from the way your grip tightened on her wrist that you were not comfortable sitting for very long.

With Haley's assistance, you managed to pull your hoodie off, careful not to aggravate any wounds. Once the clothes were removed, Haley's eyes lingered on the minor cuts just below your chest, blood still seeping from the wounds. She grabbed the sponge again, gently brushing away the blood from your cuts.

After cleansing the wounds, Haley applied alcohol and antibiotics, causing you to grunt in discomfort. No words were exchanged as she skillfully wrapped bandages around your forehead, forearm, and abdomen. She then helped you into warmer clothes she found in her wardrobe, her movements gentle and reassuring.

"How do you feel?" Haley bit her lip, anxious. Honestly speaking, she wasn't confident in her abilities to treat injuries, so she anxiously awaited your response, hoping she hadn't made things worse.

"…I'm alright now," you rasped, your voice hoarse with exhaustion. "…thank you, Hay."

Haley felt a wave of relief wash over her at your words. Your face had regained some color compared to earlier when you looked as pale as a ghost.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she questioned tentatively. "I'll whip you up some tea and soup."

You swallowed gently and nodded your head.

"I'll be back soon then. Rest. I'll wake you when your soup is done."

****

About twenty minutes later, Haley went back into the living room, a tray in her hands. She found you sprawled on the couch (thankfully not moving too much), embracing your rucksack in your arms once again. She wanted to question what was inside and why you couldn't part with it so much but decided to make sure you were okay first.

The things she does for you.

She placed the tray of food on the coffee table and sat beside you, taking in your sleeping form.

"Y/n/n? Food's ready," Haley said softly, tapping your thigh to rouse you from your slumber.

Startled and kind of a forced of habit, you tried to sit up straight. Thankfully, Haley was fast enough to stop you.

"Don't get up. | don't want to wrap your wounds again," Haley admonished, her tone firm.

She grabbed a pillow and propped it behind your back to elevate your head slightly. As she picked up the bowl of chicken soup, she could feel your eyes on her.

"I can feed myself, Haley. Thank you," you finally spoke. Haley's eyes met yours briefly before she averted her gaze, a flicker of emotion passing over her features.

"Clearly, you aren't capable of feeding yourself. Stop being a baby and let me do this."

Your eyes settled on her for probably a full minute before you sighed in resignation. Despite the hardened gaze she probably wore on her face, Haley gently placed a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"I know you can, Y/n," Haley spoke after a few moments. "But you lost too much blood already, I don't want you to bleed again."

"I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble," you uttered softly.

Haley paused and finally looked at you, like, really looked at you properly this time. Since you had arrived covered in mud and blood, she had been operating on autopilot, with only one mission: ensuring you were okay. It's the only thing running through her mind, leaving no room for anything else. Mainly, she hadn't thought about the impact of her words.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's no trouble. I'm just..." Haley paused, thinking about what words to use without giving away that she cared too much. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

Once you had finished eating, Haley placed the empty bowl down and reached for a damp cloth. Brushing away a stray lock of your hair, she gently wiped away a few drops of blood and dirt, her touch surprisingly gentle. She was so focused on her task that she didn't notice you watching her quietly, your expression softening as she attended to the blemish on your face.

"Haley..." you called softly, breaking the silence. Haley looked down at you, her eyes startled. A small, appreciative smile graced your lips as you continued, "Thank you."

Haley couldn't help but smile in return. Sometimes it's hard to stay mad at you. "You can thank me by resting and making sure this won't happen again."

You chuckled softly as you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow once more. "No promises."

Seeing that you were getting sleepy, Haley quickly gathered the empty bowl and cup and placed them in the sink. When she returned, she extended a hand to help you up, much to your confusion.

"Come, let's get you to my room."

"Haley," you protested weakly. "I couldn't possibly impose more than I already have."

"Shut up. I won't let an injured woman sleep on the couch, Y/n."

Despite your protests, Haley managed to convince you to agree with her proposed setup. While Haley wasn't entirely keen on sleeping on the couch herself, it's not like she has a choice on the matter. The cushion is uncomfortable as hell, it's like sitting on a pile of bricks. That's more than enough reason to let you sleep on her bed. Plus, with the mess and worry weighing on her mind, she doubted she'd be able to sleep anyway.

She was about to leave to clean the mess in the living room when she finally sat you down on her bed, but a hand stopped her.

"…have you seen my bag, Hay?"

"Oh, that? Do you want me to get it for you?"

"No, no. Thanks but I can get it myself." You made a move to stand but Haley kept a firm grip on your shoulder.

Haley frowned. "You can't barely even stand. Do you think I'm gonna let you walk by yourself? What's in the bag anyway? I'll get it for you."

"I'm wounded, not disabled–" you tried to say but Haley only raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to finish your sentence. You sighed when you realized that you wouldn't win against her again. "It's... it's a gift."

"For whom?" Haley couldn't help but ask. Who could you possibly want to give a gift that you almost died just to get it?

Was it for Penny? Haley heard she liked gems as well. Or was it Maru? If she could remember correctly, tomorrow's her birthday and she seemed to like everything you can find in caves. This totally makes sense.

But why did her heart clench at the thought? More importantly, how did she even remember all this information when she didn't care about them at all?

Before you could respond, Haley left the room to retrieve your rucksack. She felt like she didn't need to hear the answer to her question.

When she returned, she wordlessly handed the bag to you, prepared to leave the room once more. However, your voice stopped her in her tracks.

"It's for you."

She turned, mouth agape. "What?"

"It's for you." You smiled warmly as you held out a familiar-looking crystalline gem, about the size of a palm, emitting a dazzling array of colors.

Haley's initial surprise quickly turned to dismay as she recognized the mineral. Her frown deepened, and a flicker of discomfort passed through her eyes at the sight of it. She knew what it was, and just the thought of touching it made her feel physically ill.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned at her sudden change in demeanor.

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

"I..."

"Keep it," she said with finality. "Good night, Y/n."

With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and stormed off, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the room as she left.

****

She shouldn't have said that. She knows she shouldn't have but she was just so worried she couldn't control anything else spouting from her foul mouth.

She hated how she caused the light in your eyes to die down. Hated the way you weren't able to say anything else. Hated the way she just couldn't probably express her worries properly.

Now you probably thought she hated your guts.

Which is far from the truth. Kind of the opposite actually but she's far too tired and confused to delve into her feelings further at the moment.

It's true she doesn't share the same passion for gems and rocks as her sister Emily, and people will generally thank someone who will give them a prismatic shard because for one, they are pretty, she's not gonna lie about that. Secondly, they're super rare and by extension, expensive.

Haley just couldn't bring herself to appreciate it in the same way.

She hated them with passion. And she hated people assuming she liked shiny things because of her personality.

While it's true she's kind of materialistic, it was a trait ingrained in her from years of her parents trying to compensate for their absence by showering her with gifts.

She didn't like being materialistic, but she's so used to it that it's hard to stop.

And she hated how you seemed to think the same way about her when you thought about giving her a prismatic shard as a gift. That all she ever was were just pretty and expensive gifts.

And she hated how you let yourself get hurt just to give her this.

She hated everything about this.

****

Haley spent the majority of the night cleaning the living room, hoping to tire herself out enough to dull the heaviness and emptiness in her heart. She didn't know it was possible to feel both at the same time, but there she was, experiencing it firsthand, and she despised every moment of it.

And she hated herself more now because she found herself padding her way towards her room. Her steps faltered when she saw you peacefully sleeping on her bed. A gentle smile touched her lips at the sight of your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Unable to resist, Haley approached you quietly. She carefully tucked you in, a tenderness in her actions that betrayed the turmoil in her heart. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your bandaged forehead, a gesture she had learned from her late grandmother.

"To kiss the pain away," her grandmother used to say, and Haley found solace in that belief.

With one last caress of your cheek, Haley settled onto the foot of her bed, a magazine in hand, silently hoping for the sun's rays to finally peek behind the horizon by her room's window.

****

Haley woke up surprisingly lacking any back pains. She didn't feel sleep-deprived either.

Wait—

How'd she get in her bed? You're supposed to be– Oh.

She sat up straight when she realized she was holding a letter in her hand. Straightening up the almost crumpled paper, she could recognize your handwriting immediately.

Good morning, Haley. Sorry for the disturbance last night, and thank you for taking care of me. It means a lot. I didn't want to impose more than I already have so I excused myself while you were asleep. Thank you again. — Y/n

Haley studied the letter, noting the hastily scribbled handwriting that differed from your usual neat script. She could imagine you rushing to write it just to avoid dealing with her.

It hurt more than she cared to admit. But after what she said to you, who was she to complain?

At this point, it would be a miracle if you still talked to her.

"Good morning, sis!" Emily chirped, her voice echoing through the room as Haley emerged from her room. She sat on the couch, casually knitting what appeared to be another sweatshirt.

Haley's expression was one of mild annoyance as she replied, "It's noon."

"Storm has passed but Caroline canceled, just to be safe," Emily responded, her fingers deftly working the knitting needles as she spoke. "And I know it's noon. Just wanted to emphasize you slept late, little lady."

She glanced around the living room, noting the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, indicating that the day was well underway and the storm had thankfully subsided.

"Why are you here anyway? Don't you have a yoga class to attend to?"

Haley let out a resigned groan, her movements sluggish as she made her way toward the kitchen to avoid further conversation with her sister.

"Just so you know, I saw Y/n/n come out of your room!" Emily called out from the living room, her tone playful yet teasing.

Haley froze mid-step, her grip tightening on the handle of her mug. "Wha—" Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her surprise. "Nothing happened!"

"Of course, nothing's going to happen in that state she's in," Emily retorted.

Haley couldn't ignore the sense of urgency that suddenly gripped her at the mention of your state. You're in no condition to go home all by yourself.

"Just tell me you took her home," she pleaded, her tone softening slightly as she returned to the living room.

Thankfully, Emily's too caught up with her work to notice that brief slip-up of vulnerability Haley rarely shows.

"I volunteered actually, but Penny saw us on our way and insisted she could do the job," Emily explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

"And you agreed?!" she sputtered incredulously.

"Of course, I would!" Emily readily defended. "She volunteered!"

Haley's sigh was heavy as she sank down onto the couch next to Emily. "You should have woken me up."

She could feel Emily's eyes settling on her as if trying to decipher what's got her so distressed.

"I tried, but Y/n/n won't let me. Said you needed the sleep," Emily finally answered after a few moments of silence.

"You're unbelievable." Haley couldn't help but massage the bridge of her nose at Emily's casualness about the situation as if seeing a heavily injured farmer waltz out of Haley's room was just a normal occurrence. "I suppose she told you what happened then?"

"Uh-huh. Accident in the mines, right? And she went here instead to the clinic because Harvey would kill her once he saw her state." Emily chuckled, her tone light as if discussing the weather. "He just literally told her last time to take it easy."

Haley blinked in disbelief. "And how do you know this?"

"Everyone knows this, Haley." Emily looked at her as if wondering why she didn't know this piece of information. "It's practically a common thing to see Y/n/n passed out outside in the morning."

Haley's brows furrowed in frustration, her mind racing with thoughts. Of course, she doesn't know this. If she would have known, she would have told you to take it easy. Hell, she'll help with farming if it will make things easier for you. This thing where you pass out and overwork yourself shouldn't be normalized. Actually, if anything—

She stopped herself from this line of thinking because why the hell was she even considering helping out with your farm when she, in fact, hated dirt?

"She also told me how you stepped up and helped her," Emily continued, her voice pulling Haley back to the present moment. She felt Emily's hand pat her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I saw she's well-cleaned up. I'm proud of you, sis."

Haley forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. I'm not proud of what I did, Em.

*****

Summer 10

The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange as Haley sat alone on the shore, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the sand providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled thoughts. She had come here seeking solace, the ocean always offering her a sense of peace in times of distress.

The events yesterday had bothered her more than she had let on. She convinced herself you'd understand why she reacted the way she did but a part of herself thinks she should apologize.

But as stubborn as she is, she instead spent the whole day sulking, which is what she did.

She embraced her knees closer to her chest, fingers brushing the bracelet adorning her wrist. It was her great-grandma's, a delicate piece of jewelry passed down through generations adorned in gold and pearl on the middle part. Her grandmother has given it to her instead of her mom because she'd rather wear luxurious things than some hand-me-down jewelry. But Haley loved them, and it's probably the only piece of jewelry she'd ever wear aside from the shell necklace she was wearing now.

It was a ritual of sorts for her, wearing the bracelet whenever she felt sad and alone. It's as if wearing it made her feel like her grandma was with her at this very moment, comforting her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize her bracelet had slipped from her wrist. It wasn't until she reached to adjust it that she felt its absence.

"Oh, no..."

With trembling hands, she combed through the sand, her movements growing more frantic with each passing moment. Her eyes scanned the water's edge, fearing the worst as she desperately sought any glimmer of gold amidst the grains of sand.

No, no... impossible. She made sure she was far enough from the water for that specific reason.

An hour passed with no sign of the precious heirloom, and Haley felt tears welling up in her eyes as desperation threatened to consume her. She practically combed the whole beach for it and still no signs of the bracelet.

She couldn't help but slump back to the sand. She's feeling everything too much.

She's such a useless piece of shit. She couldn't even kept an important heirloom. How the hell can she even keep someone like you in her life?

Everyone's right. She's way up high in the clouds that everything she touches crumbles within her fingertips.

The tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and a sob is rising on her throat.

And just before a tear fell from her eyes, a hand shot up and grabbed her by the shoulder.

She looked up and met a pair of gray eyes staring into her own. The grayish color of your eyes is stark and deep and seemed a little bluish from the illumination of the sun. It almost looked like the sky during spring or the ocean seen from a cruising ship as a cold tundra threatened to ruin the quiet solitude of the season. Your eyes telltale thousands of untold stories with every blink, stories too ambiguous, too dark for any of them to understand. Though not dark enough to feed her thoughts of the midnight sea, of storms and drowning.

Calloused fingertips thumbed mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness Haley doesn't think she deserves.

"I'm here," you murmured. "What happened, Haley?"

"I l-lost it," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to hold back tears. "My bracelet... it's gone! I know I had it on when I got here... But now it's gone, Y/n and I can't find it anywhere..."

She couldn't help the sob that escaped her as she burrows closer into you. She had probably stained your shirt with expensive make-up and salty tears but she didn't care as she dug her face deeper into your collar bone further and sucks a shaky breath.

"Shh," you soothed, sturdy arms wrapped around her tightened instinctively. "I'll go find it, don't worry."

"I'll never find another one like it..."

"I'm really sorry..." she felt you murmur against her hair. "I'm sure it's just around here somewhere."

"...maybe it'll wash up on another shore," she hiccuped between sobs. "I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

"We'll find it, okay?" you assured her, and Haley swore her heart stopped beating when you planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Stay here. We're not leaving until we find your bracelet."

****

And truth be told you did find it.

After what seemed like an eternity of combing through the sand, Haley's eyes lit up as she spotted the familiar-looking bracelet in your hands.

With a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, you approached her.

"You found it!" she cheered as she run towards you, hopping from the sand and straight to your arms.

You weren't deterred by this and proceeded to secure your arms around her to prevent her from falling.

"Careful there, we don't want to drop it again, do we?" You barked out a laugh but Haley was quick to recognize the grunt of pain in them.

"Yoba, I'm sorry! I forgot you're still wounded!" Haley made a move to let you go but you weren't having any of it. If anything, you hold her tighter. Haley couldn't help but let out a laugh as well as she wrapped her arms around your neck just as firmly. "Thank you so much, Y/n. You're a lifesaver."

"You're welcome," you murmured against her chest. "Here, I'll help you wear it."

You gently set her down, much to her disappointment, and began to fasten the bracelet around her wrist, your actions filled with care and tenderness.

"Thank you, Y/n. Really," she murmured softly. "You're always there whenever I needed you and all you get as a thank you is me being... a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

You frowned. "You're not a... 'b' word. Far from it."

"'B' word,"she scoffed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips "What are you, twelve?"

"Hey!" you protested in mock indignation. "I can cuss. I just don't want to use it around you. I don't want to get used to it."

Haley's gaze softened drastically. If you keep this kind of consistency around her then Haley's bound to fall hard on her back. And since it's with you, you'd probably made your way to ensure she'll be falling in a pile of pillows and flowers. You're thoughtful like that.

"I'm sorry for giving you that gift yesterday..." you started after a moment of silence. "Let me finish first," you interrupted gently when you saw her mouth open to speak. "I just... prismatic shards are rare to find and I wanted to give it to you because I thought it's something you'd like to photograph."

You took her hand in yours, a tender gesture that made Haley's heart skip a beat, her cheeks flushing slightly at the warmth of your touch. The soft morning light bathed the shoreline in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the sand as gentle waves lapped against the shore.

"But then I realized how it may have looked like to you, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"Y/n..."

"So I like to try again." Without further explanation, you strode towards the boat beside Elliot's cabin, your steps confident and purposeful, and produced a bouquet of—wait, are those sunflowers?

"No way!" she sputtered as she tried to fight the grin threatening to spill on her face. You're not supposed to look this dashing walking towards her with a bouquet in hand. It's unfair!

"Yes way." you grinned at her as you handed her the flowers, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope I'm forgiven."

"I'm supposed to be the one saying sorry, you dunce!" Haley playfully slapped your shoulders before accepting them. "They're beautiful, Y/n! These are my absolute favorite! Thank you."

"No worries. And if you're free you can take a look at them at my farm."

"You planted them?" Now that she had mentioned it, it sounded like a stupid question. Of course, you planted them yourself, where else can you get these flowers?

But as usual, being the kind and patient person that you are, you only beamed at her and nodded. "Yep! I planted a whole yard."

"For real?"

"For real," you affirmed, your smile widening at her incredulous expression.

"But why? I mean compared to other crops I'm sure sunflowers aren't that profitable."

You shrugged again, your expression softening. "Eh, I wasn't aiming for the profit. I was aiming for your smile."

****

Previous

Next

A/n: my toes are curling while I wrote this, I hope you felt the same. Anyway, the bouquet of sunflowers isn't the same bouquet that makes Haley your girlfriend. It's just a regular ol' bouquet our farmer has personally crafted because she's a simp for our queen but just too oblivious to see it. Sorry for the delay, I had just finished my clinical recently so I was busy the whole month of April. Hope y'all like this one!

P.S. comments are much appreciated!

THANK YOU FOR 2500 LIKES! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST, SERIOUSLY.

taglist:

@joordynn

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

[gothamhappiness]

Demon Head!Bruce Wayne headcanons (x f!reader)

Because this was living rent free in my head, I needed to share with you all these quick ideas about Demon Head!Bruce being madly in love with his wife (yeah some things never change in my writing, sorry not sorry!)

Warnings: no proof reading, a few strong words, dark!Bruce, obsessive!Bruce, possessive!Bruce, jealous!Bruce, paranoiac!Bruce, killer!Bruce, mentions of violence, mentions of a failed kidnapping, mentions of sexual activities (a little bit NSFW at the end),

Demon Head!Bruce doesn’t have time for any kind of bullshit and lost all kind of patience he could have had before in his life. When he has plans, he wants things done right away and his soldiers better obey him if they don’t want to be kicked out - aka killed.

Bruce doesn’t care about the no killing rule anymore, he is merciless and ruthless. He is not a dark presence scaring off bad people, he is the ruler of the darkness. He is the most powerful person on Earth. He can literally change the course of events just because he wants it.

He is very serious about it; he is aware of his power and he is quite proud of it. Sometimes he looks at his parents photo and just thinks that he outmatched everyone in the family. And because of his pride, he barely stops working.

Sometimes however he decides to fuck with something just because he feels like it. He is like a cat, who knocks a glass off the counter. No one would dare ask him about it, but it is obvious that he is just curious about the consequences or about the chaos it will cause. In a way, it amuses him.

He is even more eager to interfere if it could amuse you.

God, Demon Head!Bruce isn’t kidding when it’s about his wife. And everyone knows you’re off limits, especially after some idiots tried to kidnap you once. The kidnapping turned into a massive failure and mess. Not only did you know how to defend yourself (there is no way Bruce wouldn’t train you, to make sure nothing could happen to you), but the consequences for said idiots were a long agony. You rarely saw Bruce so full of rage. He also killed the guards who were supposed to look after you.

You tried to save them, out of pity but he told you that “I don’t work with weak and unqualified people. If they wanted to stay alive, they should have done their duty. They simply needed to keep those men away from you. They failed. And I don’t give second chances”. You didn’t argue anymore.

After that, your guards became his best warriors and Bruce tests them every week. You are feeling quite safe with your husband and his soldiers. You even made friends among the scientists working for Bruce. You try not to think that these people would probably be friendly with you even if they didn’t like you, out of fear of your husband.

Bruce is also very possessive of you and can quickly be jealous. It happens when you spend too much time with someone else. At some point, this person will mysteriously disappear. If you ask about it, Bruce will simply tell you that they weren’t doing a good job or that they ask to leave.

But you know that no one leaves Bruce.

And especially not you. You don’t even want to imagine what would happen if you ever go to Bruce and ask for a divorce. You are pretty certain that hell would break loose and the world would go into total chaos while Bruce would lock you up in your shared room.

It is not his fault if his love for you is beyond everything. It is not his fault if he would lose his sanity and health without you. It is not his fault if you are the only thing that can bring him peace and happiness. 

You are the only thing he is soft with. He loves you with every atom of his being and nothing is too good for you. He would offer you the whole universe on a silver plate if it could please you. 

You are his queen, his divinity, his everything.

You are well aware of it - difficult to miss the way your husband looks at you and speaks to you. It is quite jarring sometimes with the way he addresses his soldiers in a cold and sharp tone, and then his voice becomes all honey like to talk to you. His eyes always look for yours and he checks on you all the time.

But sometimes he scares you a little bit.

Even more when you realise he places cameras everywhere so he could keep an eye on you wherever he is.

When you leave your home, guards are by your side. But he knows your guards like you - he can’t blame them, you are so nice to everyone - so he also asks a spy to follow you, just in case you would meet someone he doesn’t know or doesn’t approve of. 

The worst is when his paranoia reaches its peak and he refuses that you leave Wayne manor for a couple of days - weeks, months -, for safety reasons. You don’t like to be locked up.

He knows you will pout at him, and sometimes you even push him away - which drives him absolutely even crazier than he already is. He makes it up to you with gifts and everything that you could enjoy and make you forget about the way he chained you to his home.

When you are forbidden to leave the manor, and once you are not pouting anymore, it is when you grow the most creative to distract Bruce from his work and soldiers. After all, if you can’t go out, it is your husband’s duty to entertain you and take care of you.

The most effective way to get Bruce’s undivided attention on you is to show up cheekily and sexily dressed up. He is definitely distracted when you sit on his lap and gently bite on his lower lip while pressing your body covered in jewels and lingerie against his.

He can’t even pretend to be annoyed or to try and push you away. His hands automatically find your waist to bring you closer. And whatever he is working on, is completely forgotten, no matter how urgent or important it was.

“Busy, husband?” you pur

“Not at all” he always replies, his fingers gently tracing your skin “Bored, my beloved?”

“Just want you” you continue to flirt with him

And Bruce remembers he is just a man when you talk to him like that, because he just can’t resist you. He can’t even pretend to think about it for a second. His lips just need to find yours while he carries you to your shared bedroom, where he can take his time to worship you in peace.

He is very big on intimacy and privacy, so he would never pleasure you in front of his soldiers on his own fantasy.

But once or twice, you convince him to finger you while you are on his lap in his throne room. If one guard dares look at you, Bruce promises them to rip their eyes off and to let them bleed to death. God forbid it makes you cum even faster.

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

@randomnamedmira

@winterhi09

@murkyponds

@qardasngan

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

[meracyn]

hi can you please write a one shot of kwon x fem! reader who has strict parents and one day kwon helps her escape her house to go with him? tysm if you do this!

TRAPPED || kwon jae-sung

a/n: ok guys by tomorrow im gonna be editing these posts and make them actually worth looking at, no lazing off this time 😭 but i like this idea actually. ive heard some songs that would relate to a scenario like this, whoever you are anon, ur a genius fr

The tension in your house was unbearable.

Your parents, being both professionals, always pushed you to meet their expectations. They barely gave you freedom, let alone make your own choices as you grew up.

It felt so suffocating, so tiring. You were so sure you would end up going crazy any day by now.

What kind of parents were so strict they always had to monitor every. single. thing of their child’s life?

Yours.

And that was why you couldn’t wait to escape.

The night was thick with silence, creating a heavy atmosphere. You laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling before turning your head to the side, where the window was.

The moon hung low in the sky— a soft, silvery glow adorning the rows of houses underneath. You got up slowly, careful not to wake your parents. The walls were pretty thin, which only made it more difficult for you to have privacy, as they could hear almost every little thing you would do.

As you got closer, you opened it. The cool, chilly air embracing your body as the breeze played with your hair.

Outside your window, the world was silent. The leaves swayed gently on the trees, the streetlights being dim and faint in the distance, barely cutting through the darkness.

You began to think. About your future, your parents, and your boyfriend,

Kwon Jae-Sung.

It seemed impossible to get into a relationship due to your overbearing parents, but you managed somehow, and haven’t gotten caught so far– which made it the perfect reason to leave.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the rush of adrenaline clashing with the quiet serenity of the night. Would it be worth the risk? Leave behind your future, your goals, everything just for some silly romance?

Every step you took felt like glass so fragile, that with one little mistake, would break.

You focused again on the scenery outside, just beyond the houses, staring at the open gate in front of you. So close, yet so far away at the same time.

The night seemed to be endless, full of possibilities—if you just took another step.

And you did.

Cautiously going back to your bed, you picked up your phone, just as you received a new message—it was him.

I’m outside. Can you get out on your own or need help?

Stay there. Your fingers quickly tapped the screen. I can manage

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Grabbing your bag and shoes on, you took a deep breath and began to climb out the window, heartbeat pounding in your ears with each movement you took. You held onto a nearby tree before stepping down, finally touching the ground.

Without bothering to look back, you ran away.

Kwon was standing outside of the car, a smile forming on his face as he noticed you.

“You made it,” He said softly, holding onto your hand as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t know what the hell is going to happen now,” You blurted out, having mixed feelings between anxiety and excitement.

“I told you I’d get you out. ” He whispered, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. “And I will.”

As you both got in the car, Kwon started the engine, driving away. You looked back at your house one last time.

For the first time in years, you finally felt free.

[wantondoe]

The Lady and the Host

I wanted to write a series about the time Alastor still lived. It would be an Alastor x reader story. Due to the plot, the reader is depicted to be a female. I will put trigger warnings in the beginning of each post. As always, I'm open to requests.

Plot: Alastor, the charming local radio host meets the upper class lady (you) who studies medicine in a university. He is immediately drawn to her ambition and bluntness. But he has a dark double identity as a ruthless serial killer. He hopelessly falls for her while also struggling to keep his secrets.

Chapter 1: Darling

Once again, Alastor was late for work. He dragged his slender body through the streets of New Orleans while the buses were honking and children were running around. The crowd of busy men and women were darting around. A group of young women were somewhere behind him, waving their hands while glancing towards him with flirty looks.

He managed to slip away from the fangirls, walking through the door that would take him to a narrow spiral staircase. He ran up the stairs, taking long leaps. He slammed the door open and hung his coat, still maintaining his charming smile at his coworker, who was sitting in front of the microphones with a sour look.

"Ah, Ted my dear coworker! I'm afraid I ran late again eh-"

"Cut it Alastor! And it's Theodore!" the sour-faced middle-aged man snapped. "This is the third time this week you're late!"

"Now now, no need to pout my buddy! We still have time before the broadcast!" Alastor took a seat next to him.

"We have time because I set everything ready!" Ted folded his arms. "What's keeping you so busy? Did the ladies stop you on the streets again?"

"Ah, you're sharp aren't you, my friend? Yes, some lovely ladies really wanted me to know that I'm the most charming radio host in all Louisiana-"

"Yes, yes, we all know that everyone loves you!" Ted rolled his eyes.

"Worry not my buddy, the people love you as well! You're the original voice of radio after all!"

"Whatever, lad", Ted muttered. "Okay, we're going live in 10...9..."

"Oh, by the way I'll leave early today because I have to attend this party!"

Ted stiffened in his chair, his eyed widening. "YOU WHAT NOW?"

"Ah, good morning New Orleans! Good to be on air, absolutely terrific!" Alastor spoke smoothly while Ted was muttering curses away from his microphone.

That was just a typical morning for Alastor, the young prominent radio host of New Orleans. He had gotten so popular that he had started to get invitations to parties. He had made some significant acquaintances that helped him further develop in his career. Being a charming, talented, young man he was really making a name for himself.

Fixing his red bow, he stepped in through the heavy doors, entering a large ball room area. It was lit by heavy chandeliers. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen were mingling around with champagne glasses in hand, while loud jazz music was playing. This was the kind of party where upper class men and women came to misbehave, to drink and dance without any shame.

Alastor genuinely enjoyed a good party. Even though Alastor came from wealth as well, he still found the people a tad stuffy. It could be difficult to find people with original thoughts in a place like this. He started his so-called "hunt" to find new, like-minded people.

As Alastor mingled and walked through the crowd, it came apparent that he already knew everyone. He kept up his flashy smile and charming persona, while on the inside, her was bored to death.

Alastor was a man who seemed to have it all, a career, admirers, wealthy family, friends, the looks and brains... But in fact, he was just a shell of a person, no better than the stuffy Louisianans. He strutted across the floor, searching for a new face. He had almost finished his champagne, when he saw you, the most fascinating sight of the evening. He hadn't seen something as adorable for a while, the way the silk of your dress danced around your legs as you turned around to meet the people around was simply beautiful. The colors of your outfit complimented your skin that seemed to glow under the dim lights. He walked closer, taking in your hair that was neatly combed behind your ear and secured with a pin. The moment he saw you smile through your sparkling eyes, he knew he had to talk to you.

He took confident steps to you, making sure to try to smile with his eyes as well. He watched the group of people leave your side before walking closer, closing the remaining distance between you two.

"Ah, dear, I believe I haven't seen you around before! Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" he said his usual greeting, kissing the back of your hand with grace. He gazed at you, trying to read your expression.

"Pleasure", came your short answer. You didn't seem too impressed, which irritated Alastor. He was used to people basically worshiping him. "And my name is..."

"Oh, what a lovely name! Just darling! What is a pretty lady such as yourself doing here all alone?"

"Well, I like being alone", came your bold answer. Alastor chuckled.

"Oh, I see", he hummed.

Quite honestly, you were tired of these young, entitled men flirting with you. It seemed as if all of them were the same. Alastor was quick to notice your disinterest, which bruised his ego.

"Shall I ask you for a dance?" he asked.

"Well..." you averted your gaze, looking a little flustered.

"Please.... Darling", the latter word rolled on his tongue like sweet poison. He smiled slyly, his gorgeous eyes half-lidded. He was like a businessman buttering someone up.

You made the mistake of looking at his face. The moment you saw his ridiculously handsome face, you knew you had lost. He might act like every other young man, but his looks were simply out of this world. His dark skin looked incredibly smooth, and you couldn't help but let yourself wonder how it would feel under your fingertips-

"Darling", Alastor repeated, chuckling. He had noticed your drifting mind. It was something young ladies such as you often did when looking at him. He was pleased to say the least. Finally you were paying attention to him. "Please, dance with me", he pleaded, offering his hand.

"Well I suppose I could, but only this time- WOAH!"

You were being yanked towards the dance floor by Alastor, who was grinning widely, his eyes loving as he gazed down at you. You were surprised by his spontaneous ways. You felt your face flush as he pressed his warm torso against you, leading the way on the dance floor. The fast phased jazz music was keeping them moving fast, their legs almost tangling. Alastor was quickly bringing you out of your shell, and you didn't mind.

Somehow, Alastor managed to make you loosen up like you had never before. All the stress from the week seemed to vanish as he held your wist on the dance floor. As the music slowed down, the tension between you and Alastor grew. He wasn't taking his eyes off you, holding you like you were the most precious thing.

"Shall we get some fresh air, darling?"

Alastor led the way to a cozy garden. There were a few wooden benches, roses were growing all around, making the air smell floral and romantic. The garden was lit up by lamps and the cool, calming moonlight. Alastor sat you on a bench before sitting next to you, sneaking his arm around your waist. Usually you would have snapped at anyone who dared to touch you in such intimate way. But for some reason, his touch didn't feel vile or bothersome.

"Darling", he hummed, holding you close. It was as if he had already decided that you were soulmates. Maybe you were. "I',m so glad I met you."

"Oh Alastor, don't get all cheesy now", you warned playfully.

"I can't help it, dear. You make me a hopeless romantic!" he exclaimed with a theatrical hand gesture.

You two continued sitting in the rose garden, enjoying the evening together. Eventually, you felt your eyelids get heavier, your body relaxing against his warmth. You let out a small, adorable yawn.

Alastor chuckled softly. "I see you are getting tired, my darling. Shall I walk you home?" he suggested, helping you stand up. "Come on, doll. I'll make sure you get home safe and sound!"

Alastor walked you through the streets. You watched the lights from restaurants and bars light up the narrow street, feeling warm and cozy. You braced yourself for the part where you two would walk by a smaller side alley. That alley always made you feel alerted. Your heartbeat quickened as you two passed the shady alleyway, Alastor's grip on your hand tightening.

"Just walk with me, darling", Alastor whispered, leading you past the shady part.

You felt the effect of the champagne wear off, your tipsy haze clearing up. Suddenly you realized that you didn't even know this Alastor so well. You knew he was an upper class man who had his successful radio show. You knew he was a popular one in the high society. But that was all superficial... You started getting this odd, creepy feeling as the night suddenly turned eerily quiet, only the faint sound of wind filling the air. You slowly gazed up to him and saw his smiling at you, his eyes gleaming in the dark. You forced a smile and looked away, trying to maintain some sort of composure.

"Darling, you've gone awfully quiet", he pointed out, his voice calm.

You were still young, but not stupid. You knew that the world could be a cruel, unjust place, especially for women. So, you started playing horror scenarios in your mind. Alastor was a tall man, he could easily-

No. You had to stop thinking about it like that. He wouldn't do anything, would he? Alastor had seemed so sweet, so genuinely caring....

"This is your house, right? 13B?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as Alastor stopped in front of the house you lived in. The familiar neighborhood immediately brought some sense of comfort to you. The atmosphere got lighter and you abandoned the dark thoughts that you've had earlier.

"Yes, this is it", you muttered nervously.

"Well, Miss, it had been quite the pleasure!" he grinned, kissing the back of her hand once again. "I expect to see you soon again, darling", he said, his voice low and seductive.

"Y-yeah. Good night."

"Good night, darling", he wished, his voice almost a whisper. He turned on his heels, walking back into the darkness.

After he had disappeared from sight, you let out a loud sigh. You were safe, you were okay. The front door of the house opened and your maid called for you. You happily ran inside the comforts of your home, the lovely night spent together with Alastor still fresh in your mind.

Meanwhile Alastor walked along the quiet streets, embracing the creepy atmosphere. He whistled a sinister rhyme, his hands shifting in his pockets.

Alastor could be the sweetest angel when he wanted to. he would sweet talk even the coldest person until they melted for him. He could make anyone trust him and he was excellent at controlling the way people saw him. But like everyone, he had his secrets too. He dragged his lean body in a side alley, his narrow shadow following. A hand was swung, blood was shed and soon after that, quick steps followed.

Now that Alastor had finally found someone, you, that made him feel something, he would make sure to eliminate any threats out of your way. Even if that meant getting his hands dirty. Alastor if anyone really hated making a sloppy mess!

"Anything for my darling..."

[kodathings]

𝐹𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒

Aeri Uchinaga x drunk!reader

Gender: Fluff

Warnings: drunk reader, slight mention of blood and fight with someone else at first.

a/n: Hello 😁 It's been a while since I've been here, hasn't it? Anyway, I came back with little creativity and I'm still writing something about Winter, but it will take a while to come out. I hope you enjoy what you read and if you could give me suggestions on what I should write soon. Oh, and this fanfic was inspired by a materialist about aespa that I read, I don't remember who wrote it but if you search you'll find it here on Tumblr.

"You fucking bum!" You scream, drawing the attention of the entire bar as you attack a drunk man who confronted you. With your weight you managed to knock him to the ground and punch him in the face, which were difficult to aim with in your drunken state. This all didn't last long when he pushes you, making you hit your head on the table and some glasses of drinks fall on you along with a perfect punch in the middle of your face and soon after your vision goes dark.

-

"You know how stupid that was, don't you?"

"But he was talking about you, I heard it!”

"That was stupid" Giselle shut you up by putting alcohol swabs on your wound under your eye, making the area burn. She was with you at the bar when you fought with that strong man, she was the one who brought you home in fact. You went to the bar to drink because the next day she was going to visit her family in Tokyo and you were staying because you still had to work, so it would be good drink with her before that.

You mumbled something under your breath when she pulled the cotton away with little blood this time "I was just trying to defend you...". Well, she can't send it, it was cute to see you this way, flushed from the drink and with a pout on his lips trying to justify yourself to Giselle.

"You didn't have to do this, just accept that you have a hot girlfriend." She joked trying to lighten the mood. You can't help but laugh at this and go back to sulking when you remember that guy. "But I didn't like what he said" she could even count how many times you've repeated that tonight "Drink really messes with your little head, doesn't it?"

Once again the cotton made contact with his skin, this time a new cotton that went to another wound in the corner of his lip. It was incredible how powerful that man's fist was in you face. The cotton came off and her soft fingers brushed against his skin for a perfect bandage that she had done before, she obviously knew very well what she was doing. Her glass came a little forward with her eyes focused on your bruised face, Giselle didn't even notice how you silently admired her.

"You are very beautiful" a shy murmur escaped his lips with a goofy smile. Now it is clear that the drink was messing with his head. You felt like a fool falling in love again, it was so strange in your head, out of nowhere you felt that way as if you had hearts in your eyes when you saw her.

Aeri smiled at the sight of you just being a jerk for her "You're so silly, Y/n" she pressed a quick kiss to your cheek leaving the lipstick mark there. You liked that, you really liked that. It wasn't like you to like physical contact, this wasn't really your love firm, but this time it was different because of the sparkle in your eyes and she noticed. A smile painted her lips painted wine red, the perfect tone to mark her skin as if it were a painting and she was the artist.

"Why are you like that, babe?" Cynical, she knew how to play with you according to what you was feeling. Your eyes just stared into her dark orbs, you're too stupid and in love for that. You have a headache, your nose still hurts from the punch, your hand hurts a little but you continued to look at her and your girlfriend's red lips "You're going to Tokyo tomorrow...I don't think I can stay without you around for three weeks".

It's cute, but it's sad at the same time. She felt the same way, of course she would call you every night to see how she was and not to mention that she wouldn't be alone in Tokyo since she will see her family, But knowing that I would be far from you is kind of painful to be honest. It would be fair if she left you with a memory of her even if it was just for a little while.

With a sigh she left you lying on the bed comfortably, you didn't understand anything, you just accepted your fate and the soft bed that made you lie there without protesting. She sat on top of you and leaned in close to your face, dangerously close to your lips that tasted like a strong drink that she didn't particularly like the taste of, but it would be worth it later. Your arms were wrapped around her involuntarily quickly, not letting her leave now.

"Silly..." she called you with the new nickname that would be acquired for the rest of your life. It was then that the kissing session on her skin began. First one on his left cheek, he moved up his lips to his forehead forming a path to his right cheek and chin. She was careful not to end up undoing the bandages, which was the reason to make a trail of kisses to his jaw and neck. Meanwhile you were soft with the amount of kisses you received from the Japanese woman.

You felt like you were in heaven, the angels were granting you this great woman before you entered the gates of heaven. Her hands were roaming over your shoulder and arms to make sure you would have blurs of memories the next morning.

Suddenly the kisses stopped, making an irritated groan come out of you in protest, everything was so good. Your eyes opened to see what happened but closed soon after with the quick kiss that was placed on your bruised lips, you swore you just melted like butter on the bed. Aeri had surreally soft lips, a feature you considered very advantageous.

"How it feels?"

"I won't get this off my face until tomorrow"

"Idiot"

[milksuu]

❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ ─── ☾⏺☽

pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)

warning: non/con, fem!reader, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/violence, religious/fanatical behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, minor drug use, implied kidnapping, implied forced relationship, semi-public sex, unbalanced power dynamic, runeterra au

notes: sorry besties, he's a 10 but he's bat shit insane. (so an 11) also any mention of 'her' is the moon goddess, not alune. (we're leaving that sweet summer child out of this.) and for those who aren't aware, phel can speak when not under the influence of noctum, but unable to communicate with alune, which is uh...great in this case. (also not me wanting to write a second part like how why help?)

You never thought you’d stare into the pale visage of the Lunari man the village whispered about.

The one with a vacant face but deadly occupation. Your naïve belief in your own safe keeping was nothing more than an illusion. The sun always faded below the misted cliffs, only for the moon to take its place above the mountain’s highest peak. An endless cycle of hierarchical dominance that rinsed itself in blood and repeated in constant turmoil. Tonight would be no different.

“Don’t come any closer.”

A failed attempt to embolden your voice beyond a meek plea. You stiffened at the thunderous closing of the temple door. A clambering echo vibrated through the marble floor and pillars, past the rows of worship, up to where you stood at the crest of the ceremonial altar. The remaining resonance rattled and sang up your spine, shaking the candle light pinched between your fingertips. 

The figure sauntered forward, stepping into the drapes of moonshine filtering from the glass atrium above. Before you stood a deadly beauty; a handsome face rapt with enticing secrets. With a painted crescent that mocked your own solar marking of gold. His lips were a perfect horizontal line, and it was difficult to imagine the ability they possessed beyond lethal silence. His hallowed expression screamed danger—but there was no running away—not when the black abyss of his eyes invited you to stay.

 Not as a guest, but as his permanent resident.

“I’m warning you. Take one more step, and I’ll scream. The guards will come and they won’t hesitate to kill you—”

Your voice went taut inside your throat. Your breath sewn shut against your lungs. The weapon he carried listless at his side drenched itself in various hues of red. Fresh enough to steam in wisps around the sharpest point of the blade.

He stalked forward. The clack of his predetermined steps quickening the pace of your heart. When he stood at arms length, you felt the coldest touch of night. The veins layered beneath your skin pounded, flooding every inch of you with mortal dread. It was sickening to think the flush of your flesh would only make the spill of it all the better. The ‘Weapon of The Faithful’—titled by his own blasphemous people—spoke true. His name…you wished you could cleanse it from existence.

“Aphelios.” You damned the name like a plague upon all of Mount Targon. “Murderer. Blight. Heretic!” 

You jabbed and swung your candlelight in a pitiful attempt to create distance. His free hand quipped against it, sending it clambering to the ground, banishing the flame to the surrounding night. Creating a hazier veil of darkness where there was only one true light—his moon.

Out of sheer disdain, you attempted to slap his face in recoil. His unarmed hand caught you by the wrist, remaining still as you struggled to free yourself from his trained grasp. With force, he pried your hand open, palm exposed. He brought the skin of it to his stiff lips. Unmoving, he lingered there. His lashes fluttered closed; taking a moment of peace, a moment of prayer. 

A moment for sanctum. 

His eyes then winged opened, boring into you, through you. Body, bone and soul. And all you could do was tremble within them. Sinking without escape into those black depths of…nothing. 

In one swift motion, he brought the blade upwards, slicing through the thin linen of your garments. In a precise vertical line, your gown split into two equal halves. The insignificant barrier between you and him slipped to the ground, splaying like rags at your feet. Your head pounded for you to scream, but your own voice felt lost to you. Knowing it was all meaningless. 

No one would hear you. 

No one would save you.

Weakened by the surmounting despair of it all, if he hadn’t already had a hold on you, your legs would have given to the earth.

“No—“ you choked out, eyes brimming with tears. It must’ve looked pathetic; the way you placed your only free arm across your exposed breasts. As if any decorum of modesty would spare you. “Please—just kill me. Do nothing else but that. I beg of you.”

Your final sob for mercy reached ears that may as well have been carved of stone. He stalked closer, forcing your lower back to meet the mantled altar behind you. He’d sheathed his weapon, and took both of your hands within one tight grasp, in case you had half a mind to oppose him. You dipped your chin, heaving through a prayer with mournful hics and sniffled utterances. His advancing weight forced your trembling legs to part, and slotting himself between, created a space where your faith could never exist. 

You didn’t want to look at him, or rather, you couldn’t. Tears scorched your vision and seared down the round of your cheeks. You flinched when he took your chin, raising your blurry gaze to meet his. In those darkest of pools, something gave. An insignificant speck of light gleaming into a faint existence. His lips moved, but there was no sound. Instead, you traced the words from the bow of his mouth.

‘Forgive me.’

Your heart clenched. Diluted blood spiked with fear drowned your consciousness. It left no room for thoughts to linger; whether or not you imagined even an ounce of sympathy reflected in those sedated eyes. Whether or not you imagined he said anything at all. 

The entire world scattered away when he brought your face closer, and kissed away the tears staining the corners of your eyes. You fought to pull away, but he held firm, both your chin and hands locked in the cage of his fingers. From your cheeks, he skimmed his ghostly lips to your mouth. He muffled your protestive moans by filling up your mouth with all of his tongue. 

He gave you the salt taste of your own tears. That, and the taste of something else. A saccharine flavor with notes of floral and bitter earth. 

A reaction flourished; a slight tingle of your lips at first. It made his tongue feel hotter against yours, as parts of your upper mouth went numb. A stream of lukewarm paralysis seeped past your soft palate, filling every nook and cranny of your mindscape. Yet, the secondary symptoms didn’t stop there. An opposite wave traversed down your throat to your stomach, spilling fire throughout every layer of nerves. You clenched your lashes tight, shuddering a gasp into his open mouth.

When the pain settled into a dull simmer, you wondered briefly, had he felt it too? Had he consumed such a substance by choice? If that was a taste, what pain did he endure if he drank it like an offering of wine?

You didn’t want to imagine the terrible effects it might’ve had on his person. Not if it gave you even a single drop of sympathy. It was revolting enough his saliva was poisoning your pure sense of self. The fog of it sullying your inhibitions, stripping away your layers of moral preservation. To the absolute vitriolic parts of yourself, it made you consider…

What would it be like to be touched?

It was too sick and cruel of a thing to do to you. Since birth, you’d devoted your body and soul to your divine Goddess; The Golden Sister. You wanted to be disgusted by allowing the gift of yourself to become tainted by some awful man. No—he was worse than that. Or any word you could craft and cut the corners of your mouth with. He was, by biblical history, a Lunari man born from the cataclysmic eclipse of two moons. A day that marked the day of reckoning of the Solari faith and your people.

Your clouded senses and busied mouth made you unaware that his hand left your face to trail the mounds and curves of your body. A light touch drifting to your inner thighs. You jolted when a finger graced the sensitive hood of your exposed clit. Your thighs squirmed at his side as you attempted to jerk your knees. It did nothing and stirred nothing from him. Except bolster his conviction, tempting a finger lower, teasing your folds already glistening.

Although light-headed, you ripped your mouth away and nipped at his lip. It sprang forth droplets of blood, enough to taste his iron on your tongue. A trivial satisfaction. 

“May you burn at dawn,” you condemned and spat at his lips.

Unflinching, he withdrew his hand and brushed over the blood mark you left. Sweeping it across his bottom lip, along with your saliva, he rolled the consistency between his fingers in private contemplation. Before he looked you dead in the eyes and stuck his fingers inside his mouth. Sucking and licking till his fingers dripped. Watching sent a lightning strike coiling down your spine.

He loomed his weight forward until your back met the altar mantle. With your palms pinned above your head, and legs coaxed wider. His coated hand repositioned down to your entrance, and you writhed with any strength your body could lend. His hold wrapped around your wrists squeezed, gentle in its reprimand. He leaned down to brush his face at the side of your cheek.

“Please…for your own sake.” 

Your eyes widened at his frayed whispers stringing together. Breathing life into what seemed like an empty shell of a person. The frigid space between his mouth and your ear kindling with the slightest bit of warmth. It was what you feared the most. Forced to accept he was every bit human, with a horrid courtesy to use polite words and a pleasant, sickening tone. More insult to your injury. You wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Letting you believe in your mind that he was more aberration or phantom. Or anything else that carried not a single hint of a beating heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you…not anyone, really.” Again, comforting yet noxious. And it made whatever was inside you throb so terribly. As if he could sense it, he reached for it. His salivated finger split through your folds, sliding into the heat of your cunt. It elicited a drawn out whimper as you felt the sensual brush of it against a bed of tingling nerves. Gradually revealing a hidden desire you hadn’t wanted to gratify him with.

“But you…and your people…need to accept what can’t be denied any longer.” He punctuated his words with each thrust of his finger as it curved into that crescent shape you despised so much. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way it made your most feminine parts unravel at the seams. ”No matter how high your sun rises, my heavenly moon will always eclipse it. And fill the sun with Her beauty for all to see.“

A hitched whine fluttered past your lips as he easily slipped a second finger. While the heel of his palm pressed in circles, spreading your arousal and stimulating your plumping clit. Your cunt unashamedly sucked on his long fingers, encouraging him to mold and form you into what he needed you to be—a conduit for the undying affections of his faith.

“You might not see it, but the divine path has been shown to me. The one that’s led me to you. You can feel it at least, can’t you?” He flexed his digits and plunged a third finger. Deeper than the last, fuller than before. Your hips rolled forward on their own accord, craving every bit of attention from his touch.

With deliverance, you answered the question with a wail and arch of your back. Your whole body washed its nerves in a blinding heat. His fingers curled and flexed at your hungry walls clenching around him. It pushed a gush of sticky fluid from your twitching hole into his circling palm. Coming down from the spasms, you sobbed at the humiliating response of your body. 

“So you do feel it.” There was a hidden sentiment of relief in his otherwise placid delivery. As if he’d purged the last blot of doubt that restrained him. You swallowed a mouthful of whines as his probing fingers continued undulating inside you. “Your body…it’s begging to devour me in all its warmth. And mine, yearning to take all your bright stars and bathe you by moon glow alone. Wanting us—and only us—to become one.” 

Without warning, he emptied you of his fingers, a filthy squelch following with it. You sucked in a gasp at the crippling cold he left you with. But he wouldn’t abandon you for long. Shifting in the dark haze above you, he unsheathed his length from his garments and pressed himself against your sopping cunt. He dragged his fullness against your swollen and slicked folds. He wasn’t even inside you, yet you felt an agonizing cramp fisting in your stomach. 

“By Her orders, by Her design…” he spoke through tight whispers, strained by his own anticipation. Pressing his full weight down, he hovered mere inches above you, panting bouts of aroused breaths against your lips. “Let us Converge.”

You squirmed and bucked underneath him. “Nn…not with you…anyone but—!”

You broke off into a high-pitched cry as he stretched you open, filling you up till he bottomed out, and pressed up to the hilt of his hips. He silenced both of your newly coupled hymns with his mouth, and each lap of his tongue matched the tempo of his generous thrusts. The sharp, intrusive pinch died as quickly as it came—the insignificant remnants of toxin dulling bits and pieces of certain pain receptive nerves. A gift, perhaps, in this instance. He had also prepped you well enough to accept all of his adoration, as intended. Another gift, as someone of his ‘giving’ nature may phrase it.

Pulling away slowly, the tip of his head rubbed graciously against every ridge of your swelling walls, before languidly pushing back, going past where you seemed to end. Beyond your farthest points you hadn’t thought existed. Pressing and rubbing all your soft spots and cervix with careful deliberation.

Then again, and again, and again.

“Can you feel it…my devotion…” he groaned into your open-mouthed kisses, continuing to work himself inside you. You weren’t even sure if he was speaking to you, or through you to his false Goddess. 

His free hand found the round flesh of your breast, rolling your budded nipple delicately between the pad of his thumb and index. The other hand, squeezing at your captured wrists, but never tight enough to bruise. He had you lulling in a spellbinding rhythm underneath him, your hands fastened above your head, and hair spilling over the opposite side of the altar. When his mouth left your full lips, he possessed the nape of your neck, sucking the delicate skin above your life line. Your mewls, laced with the chasteless sounds of his base squelching at your entrance, leapt your pulse to an unreturnable pace.

“So warm,” he moaned low, staving off a growing need to revel in his own whines of ecstasy. “This pure sunlight of yours…I’m blessed to be the one who takes it. And you should be too. What an honor it is to be of service to my moon.”

You wanted to hate everything about it. The way he kissed you, the way he moved inside you—but you couldn’t. Every stiff and engorged part of him pressed almost lovingly against your most vulnerable parts; but that wasn’t the proper word for it. His affectionate caresses were zealous in origin. Not even for you. And boderlined a hedonistic doctrine you couldn’t describe. It would’ve been better if he were a man of barbaric qualities; rough and brutal. Not purposeful and diligent and—dared you admit it—tender. If he were the former, then your disgust could be justified, and your body would refuse him in its own rightful way. But it defied you, the lecherous thing. Insisting you melted beneath him and reduce to nothing but a drenched mess. Completely at the mercy of this Lunari man’s act of worship.

“Are you finally realizing it now? How generous my Goddess is compared to yours.” He abandoned the curve of your throat. Within the flush of his face, his eyes were suppled in absolute vindication at your shameless image. “How willing you are to accept me—to accept Her.”   

“N-No…I’m…not…I won’t,” you pried your tongue for words.

He drawled out a quivering whine from your mouth. His body picking up to an impassioned pace, rutting into your sweltering heat. Tethering on his own abandoned pleasure. Your legs pushed themselves wider, opening yourself up more for him, drawing him deeper to pound against the tender knot growing in your belly. 

Choked moans tightened in his throat. Your radiance gripped him with conviction, burning him so divinely from tip to base. Dragging him closer to your complete consummation. His fingers caught the contour of your face, tilting your head back. Your already swimming eyes rolled to follow, and watered at the sight of your Solari Goddess. Carved out from the temple wall, her sacred marbled gaze met your disgraceful expressions. 

“That’s…hn…alright. You can lie to me. I’ll—we’ll always forgive you. But can you say the same for your deity? As she watches her little sunlight being pleasured by the moon’s devoted weapon. I—ha…doubt it very much.” An airy laugh cut through his thick moans intertwined with yours. He continued, inhaling and exhaling his words, raspy and down right broken. “It’s—almost our time…as reverence…your insides…with all of my…”

You couldn’t refuse the vile implication of his words. Not when his thickened, throbbing cock lapped achingly against your muddled core. Your blood boiled, draining out from your collapsing bodily veins to well up inside your stomach. Applying a pressure that made you want to burst into unmendable fractals of yourself. And you did—that tight knot broke in an instant, dilating your insides in a blaze of heat. Flooding you so wholly, you almost forgot to breathe through your delirious sobs of release. 

When the smooth ridges of your walls clamped down, you heard it first as a moan of afflicted surrender on his part. Then, the cock buried inside you pulsed. A stream of white-hot fluid poured into you, shooting well past your cervix, bathing your womb with his warmth. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to indulge. He pumped and pushed the concoction of unified fluids till it poured past his base, and dripped in milky heaps from your hole. His pelvic and abdominal muscles shuddered as his hips rolled slowly but needingly, nursing himself through his over-stimulating climax.

From your tearful, half-lidded gaze, you witnessed a wet glisten in his own eyes. Whether induced by overwhelming pleasure or pained remorse, you would never know. You didn’t want to know.

It didn't matter.

They evaporated the moment he blinked again.

When the heaves and pants subsided, only the echoes of your whimpers remained. Unfastening his grasp from your wrists, his icy hands cupped your sulking face, idly running his thumbs across your soaked cheeks.

“I understand your pain. Believe me, I do. But no amount of tears will keep the celestial cycle from shifting in the moon’s favor. Like any phase, there will be a moment when you won’t hate me as you do now. You might even come to...love me.”

The way he paused made it seem he had no sense for the word. Or what the difference was between what was love and obsession. The look he possessed didn’t instill solace, either; his eyes mere slits of black against his porcelain face. Promising the moment you dared turn away from him, the back of your neck would bleed.

”I swear to you. From this night on, you’ll burn brightest by my reflection. And only my reflection. So long as there's breath and blood in this body, I’ll protect your sunlight from ever fading in the hands of anyone less deserving than mine. By cosmic fate, you’re my entire purpose, my entire existence...” he bent and kissed the solar marking painted on your forehead. “My orbit.” 

[nyoomerr]

Only if you want but phantom thief! Binghe x rich boy Shen Yuan, heir to a famous jeweler/jewerly store business.

It can be Bingge or Binghe, whatever you want! Love your work!

dont mind me using this as a sort-of warm up for writing a much bigger bingge pov binggeyuan thing ehehe 😌 ty for sending this prompt in!

---

Luo Binghe does not get caught. It’s in his title, even - a phantom thief, completely untouchable. 

Well, perhaps not completely untouchable. After all, many times the most efficient way to get his hands on a particularly valuable set of jewelry is to let the lady wearing it put her hands on him. Flirtations and bold fondling in a dark corner of a party, hands on the woman’s face and shoulders and the diamond necklace around her neck -

Normal things for someone in Luo Binghe’s line of work, really, when that someone looks the way Luo Binghe does. Charm is as indispensable a tool as a lockpick. 

It’s only a tool that Luo Binghe dares to use when he knows it will be well received, though. Unwelcome advances are more likely to get a mark to grow more defensive on all lines, not just towards sexual advances, and then the whole job gets more difficult. Still not impossible - not for Luo Binghe - but Luo Binghe has a messy habit of turning theft into murder when he’s faced with rejection. 

It isn’t his fault. The people who turn Luo Binghe away - who look at him with cold disinterest and disgusted sneers plastered across their ugly, painted faces - they deserve to die. Luo Binghe is only doing the world a service.

Still, the cleanup becomes much more difficult when Luo Binghe’s mouth is stained with blood rather than smeared lipstick, so he learns to assess his marks carefully. Those that would think themselves clever and better than Luo Binghe get stolen from in the traditional sense, and they never see Luo Binghe during the process.

Shen Yuan is one such mark. Oh, Luo Binghe could break him in, probably - he watches from a distance as Shen Yuan’s eyes linger on the strong forearms of the barista who hands him his coffee, and he knows without testing that Luo Binghe could fluster such a small thing like Shen Yuan without much effort. 

To actually touch Shen Yuan, however, would be far more difficult. Luo Binghe knows this much from even the most basic of background searches: Shen Yuan takes pretty girls to banquets despite never touching them, and the way he dresses… yes, Shen Yuan certainly would like to think of himself as a straight man, the poor thing. Not the sort of nut Luo Binghe cares to crack when it’s for business rather than pleasure.

Besides, most of Shen Yuan’s valuables are kept in his family’s home. The pretty things Luo Binghe could nick off Shen Yuan’s person are limited and hardly the most enticing of Shen Yuan’s things, so there’s no need to push it.

Shen Yuan will simply be the sort of mark that never sees Luo Binghe, never gets close enough to touch.

That’s the sort of mark Shen Yuan is supposed to be.

“Um,” Shen Yuan says, standing awkwardly in the doorway of the very high security office that Luo Binghe has just broken into. “Can I, um. Help you…?”

Luo Binghe stares at him. He’s just finished picking the lock on one of the glass cabinets in the office, and he knows that from Shen Yuan’s perspective he must have a very clear view of the ruby earrings that Luo Binghe had plucked from the case.

He doesn’t stare long. Hesitating only ever gets someone caught, and Luo Binghe does not get caught.

The office has no windows, so Luo Binghe will have to exit through the door that Shen Yuan is standing in. He turns to face Shen Yuan fully - he empty hand neatly plucking a few more pieces from the cabinet and tucking them in his pockets as he moves - and starts sauntering over to Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan was not meant to be one of the marks he seduced, but plans can change. He’ll just need to fluster Shen Yuan long enough to make it past him to one of the several exit plans Luo Binghe had planned. 

That should be enough - Shen Yuan is only wearing an oversized shirt and boxers, clearly having gotten up from bed without dressing properly, and he doesn’t appear to be carrying anything in his hands. All that together means he’s likely not carrying his phone, and Luo Binghe knows the security schedule well enough to know that Shen Yuan yelling wouldn’t have anyone arriving quick enough to stop him. 

Shen Yuan takes half a step back as Luo Binghe approaches, but he doesn’t leave the doorway. He must have some idea that he’s the only obstacle in Luo Binghe’s way, then. Luo Binghe smiles at him, only half faking the predatory look of it. 

“Yuan-er,” Luo Binghe croons, and Shen Yuan shuffles back another half foot, his ears turning pink where they stick out from some truly terrible bed head.

Spoiled, Luo Binghe thinks in the privacy of his own mind, poisonous and bitter. A child who’s always been allowed laziness.

“Yuan-er, you’ve really got to put better locks on your things,” Luo Binghe says as he approaches. “Isn’t this your family’s precious legacy? That sort of thing should be protected…”

Shen Yuan’s brows furrow. Luo Binghe can very clearly read the baffled what the fuck that silently twists his lips, but Luo Binghe doesn’t react. 

That’s it, little rabbit - just stand there, and let yourself be confused and taken aback by the thief in front of you, and I’ll escape before you have to worry your spoiled little head about it.

Luo Binghe is only a few paces away, now. He’ll brush past Shen Yuan’s right side to avoid getting caught on the arm he has resting on the doorway, and -

“Say please,” Shen Yuan says, glaring up at Luo Binghe as he crosses his arms.

Luo Binghe falters. “What was that, Yuan-er?”

“You’re clearly capable of sweet talk, so you should start with asking nicely before you take our shit,” Shen Yuan scoffs. 

Luo Binghe stops in front of Shen Yuan, close enough that Shen Yuan has to tilt his head up to maintain eye contact with him. 

He should just brush past, really. Shen Yuan is small, and Luo Binghe already knows he doesn’t have a way to raise alarm in an effective way.

Luo Binghe does not brush past.

He kind of wants to slit Shen Yuan’s throat for thinking he has any right to tell Luo Binghe to say please, sitting comfortably in the lap of luxury like he is. 

“I’m impressed,” Luo Binghe says, his smile so sharp it may as well just be a baring of his teeth. “Yuan-er knows so many big words for a little princling of such an important business. Did you learn them from listening to clients speak to your daddy?”

Shen Yuan’s eye twitches. “Ah,” he says. “You’re an asshole on top of being impolite, then.”

Luo Binghe’s fingers twitch towards the switchblade in his pocket. He wouldn’t be able to clean up a body before security loops back around to this wing of the house, and Luo Binghe has already left a mess from being interrupted in the middle of his heist. He hasn’t left any fingerprints, but he can’t be sure about hair -

Shen Yuan reaches up and flicks Luo Binghe’s forehead. Luo Binghe goes dead still. That’s it, then. He’s going to kill Shen Yuan, this rich little brat -

“Oi, you’re going to ruin your pretty face with a mean expression like that,” Shen Yuan complains. “Just get out of here if you aren’t going to listen nicely - I already called security before coming over here to tell you off myself.”

Luo Binghe pulls out the switchblade, snarling down at Shen Yuan. “Oh, Yuan-er, I think there’s something much better I could ruin.”

Shen Yuan shifts uncomfortably at the sight of the blade, some of his irritation replaced with the faintest glimmer of fear. Luo Binghe pushes closer, wanting to see more - wanting to see Shen Yuan’s delicate face contorted with the sort of despair that a little lordling like him would never have known before, wanting to see him cry - 

There’s footsteps from down the hall. Shen Yuan had not been bluffing; he really had called someone, then. Luo Binghe cannot guarantee he’ll be able to kill Shen Yuan quickly enough that Shen Yuan is unable to give a description of his murderer to the help before he dies.

Hesitating gets people caught. Luo Binghe does not get caught, so he brushes past Shen Yuan harshly without another moment’s pause, even though what he wants to do is something far more violent and time consuming. 

Luo Binghe hasn’t failed a heist like this since he was a damn child, and this stupid little twink dares to just stand there and watch Luo Binghe run down the hallway to the nearest window instead of lay bleeding on the ground like he should be doing, Luo Binghe will come back to kill him -

“At least say thanks!” Shen Yuan calls out as Luo Binghe approaches the window. “Even if you can’t ask nicely to begin with, you should at least say thanks, ah!”

Luo Binghe ignores him. He’s busy pulling his jacket off to wrap around his arms, preparing to jump through the window’s glass in such a way that he can avoid getting cut and leaving his own blood at the scene of the crime.

“Aiya, what an asshole…” Shen Yuan is grumbling behind him. “You know, you may regret not bothering to pay me a bit more attention.”

Oh, Luo Binghe is paying attention. He’s very vividly imagining what Shen Yuan’s neck would feel between his fingers, right now, even as he backs up several steps to get a running start at the window. 

The office had been on the second story, so Luo Binghe has to roll to mitigate the force of the fall. He stands quickly, does a perfunctory check of his pockets to ensure nothing fell when he hit the ground, and -

He’s missing the jewelry he nicked. He has the ruby earrings, but the others he’d stolen as he was leaving are gone. Luo Binghe searches the ground around where he’d fallen frantically; he has to move now, but he can’t leave those behind either. After all that this heist has brought, Luo Binghe can’t allow it to not even be profitable. 

Above him, Shen Yuan clears his throat from the broken window. Luo Binghe whips his head up to look at him.

In one hand, Shen Yuan is holding the missing jewelry.

“I told you,” Shen Yuan says. “Jeez, as if I’m that useless.”

Luo Binghe stares up at him. No one has ever dared to steal back from Luo Binghe.

“...Aren’t you going to leave? Security really will be here soon.” Shen Yuan calls down at him. Then he pauses, and even in the darkness Luo Binghe can tell his ears have gone pink again. “...I let you keep the rubies. They, uh. Would probably go well. With you. And your eyes. And uh. Anyway, say thanks!”

“...Thanks?” Luo Binghe says, baffled and furious and still sort of itching to take his switchblade out and throw it pointy-side first at Shen Yuan’s pretty face.

“You’re welcome, asshole!” Shen Yuan calls back, clearly pleased. 

Luo Binghe stares for a moment longer, then turns and runs. He will not get caught, even on nights that have gone as stupendously terrible as this one has. So long as he doesn’t get caught, there’s always next time. 

So long as he doesn’t get caught, Luo Binghe can come back here, to the office of jewels he failed to get - to Shen Yuan. 

Next time, Luo Binghe won’t fail.

[gumballavocadoharry]

The messiness:

The rain had stopped, but the city air held a damp chill that seemed to seep into Yn’s bones, a familiar echo of the coldness inside her. She found herself at the familiar red door of ‘From the Restaurant Table’ more often now, not always for a meal, but often just to exist within its warm, fragrant bubble. The scent of roasting garlic, slow-simmering broth, and freshly baked bread was a constant, gentle presence, a stark contrast to the sterile emptiness that often clawed at her from within.

Her worn copy of ‘The Elements of Style’ lay open on the small table near the window, pages dog-eared and underlined. Around it were scattered notes for her advanced fiction workshop, scribbled ideas for short stories teeming with characters whose emotional landscapes felt less complicated than her own. College was relentless. Her writing courses, in particular, were demanding, requiring a brutal honesty about narrative and form that she found excruciatingly difficult to apply to her own life.

Professor Weaver, her workshop instructor, was a brilliant but sharp-tongued woman who tore apart weak prose with surgical precision, pushing Yn to strip away artifice and find the raw, beating heart of a story. It was the kind of challenge she craved, the kind that ignited her ambition to be a real writer, to craft sentences that hummed with truth and resonance. But the pressure was immense, another weight added to the already precarious balance she maintained.

Harry was a constant, comforting presence amidst the academic storm and the internal turmoil. He’d wander over during lulls, wiping down tables or polishing glasses, his dark brown hair falling across his forehead, his green eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled. He never pressed her about ordering a full meal if she wasn’t ready. Instead, he’d bring her a glass of water infused with cucumber and mint, or a small bowl of olives, or a single, perfect warm roll with a pat of herb butter she could nibble at under the table. He understood, instinctively it seemed, that sometimes just being there was enough.

Tonight, the restaurant was quiet, the last diners having departed an hour ago. Yn was bent over her laptop, trying to untangle a particularly knotty plot point, the glow of the screen illuminating the faint shadows under her eyes. Harry was clattering softly in the kitchen, the rhythmic sound a soothing backdrop.

The kitchen door swung open, and Harry emerged, wiping his hands on his apron. "Still at it?" he asked, his voice soft.

Yn stretched, wincing at the stiffness in her shoulders. "Just one more paragraph," she lied, knowing she’d be there for at least another hour. "Professor Weaver wants these revisions by tomorrow morning."

"Rough night?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. He walked over, pulling up a chair opposite her without asking, a testament to the comfortable familiarity that had grown between them.

"Just... demanding," she admitted, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Writing is supposed to be freeing, but sometimes it feels like building a house with toothpicks."

Harry chuckled, a warm, rich sound. "I get it. Cooking is like that sometimes. You think you’ve got the recipe perfect, but then one ingredient is off, or the heat’s too high, and the whole thing collapses." He paused, looking at her, his expression growing a little more serious. "Hey, I was thinking of whipping up some of that chicken and ginger soup you liked the other week. It’s late, but I don’t mind staying to make a small batch. It’s good for the brain food, you know?"

Yn’s stomach twisted. The thought of the soup, light and flavorful, was appealing on one level – a memory of a positive eating experience. But the ingrained response, the automatic calculation of calories, the fierce whisper of the "inner demons" telling her she was being weak, greedy, out of control, was louder. It was a constant, insidious soundtrack in her mind, a cruel critic that never slept.

"Oh, Haz," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "That’s so sweet of you, but I think I just need to power through this chapter and then get home. I’m wiped."

Harry’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. He studied her face for a moment, his gaze lingering on her cheekbones that seemed just a little too prominent lately, the slight slackness around her eyes. He’d noticed. He’d noticed her pushing food around her plate, picking at salads, leaving most of the heartier meals untouched. He’d noticed the way her favorite sweater seemed to hang a little looser on her frame compared to when she first started frequenting the restaurant months ago. He didn’t know what he was noticing, not really, but his protective instincts, honed by years of taking care of his younger siblings and now his customers, were buzzing with quiet alarm.

"Yn," he began gently, his voice low. "Are you... are you eating enough? You seem a little... tired."

The question, gentle as it was, landed like a punch. The fortress of fear, the careful facade she maintained, felt like it was cracking. Her heart hammered against her ribs. He sees. He knows. The inner demons shrieked, telling her she was exposed, a failure, that her lack of control was visible to the world.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," she said quickly, too quickly. She closed her laptop with a snap, shoving it into her bag along with her notebook and pen. Her movements were jerky, agitated. "Just the college grind, you know? All-nighters and caffeine." She stood up, pulling on her jacket, avoiding his gaze.

Harry stood too, his expression etched with confusion and concern. "Yn, wait. I didn't mean to pry, I just... I worry about you."

"I know, Harry," she said, already halfway to the door. Her voice was strained. "And I really appreciate you. You're the best. But I really do need to get this done. Professor Weaver is ruthless." She fumbled with the lock, her hand trembling slightly. "I'll, uh, I'll see you soon?"

It wasn’t a question that invited an answer. It was a desperate plea for escape. Before he could say anything else, she was out the door, leaving him standing alone in the quiet restaurant, the faint scent of spices still lingering in the air, a silent witness to her hurried departure and his growing unease.

The walk back to her apartment was a blur. The chill of the night air did nothing to cool the heat rising in her cheeks or the frantic pounding in her chest. Each step felt like she was running from herself, from Harry’s kind eyes that saw too much, from the simple, terrifying question he had asked.

She slammed the door shut behind her, the sound echoing in the small, sterile space. Dropping her bag onto the floor, she leaned against the wood, exhaling a shaky breath that was more of a sob. And then the tears came, hot and relentless, blurring the familiar lines of her living room.

She sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, the sobs wracking her body. The guilt was a suffocating blanket – guilt for lying to Harry, guilt for wasting his concern, guilt for being so fundamentally broken. The inner demons, momentarily silenced by his question, surged back with renewed vigor. You can’t even handle a simple question. You’re weak. You’re out of control. This is why you have to be vigilant. This is why you can’t trust anyone, especially not yourself.

The image of Harry's worried face, his gentle voice asking if she was eating enough, was a painful counterpoint to the cruel whispers in her head. He represented possibility – the possibility of warmth, of nourishment, of a life where food wasn’t the enemy. But her illness, the insidious grip of the eating disorder, was a formidable opponent. It wasn’t just about food; it was about control, about self-worth, about years of internalizing the subtle messages that her body was something to be policed, a canvas of imperfection that needed constant correction. Her grandmother's voice, though silenced by death, lived on in the cruel judgment of the demons.

She thought about Professor Weaver's latest critique of her story – "You're holding back, Yn. You're afraid to show the messiness. Art isn't clean." How could she show the messiness in her writing when she spent every waking moment trying to hide the chaotic, terrifying mess inside herself? The pressure to excel in her studies, to prove her intelligence and worth on paper, felt inextricably linked to the pressure to control her body, to make it conform to an arbitrary standard of perfection her illness demanded. It was a vicious cycle, each stressor feeding the other.

Crying didn’t offer catharsis, only exhaustion. She felt hollowed out, physically and emotionally drained. She wanted to reach out, to call Harry, to somehow articulate the tangled knot of fear, shame, and desperate longing that was her reality. She wanted to tell him about the grandmother who had turned meals into battlegrounds, about the feeling of being swallowed whole by anxiety, about the food that tasted like ash in her mouth even when her body craved it.

But the words wouldn’t come. The secret felt too heavy, too ugly to share with someone so vibrant and kind. How could she invite him into this darkness? How could she reconcile the sunlit world of his restaurant, a place dedicated to joy and nourishment, with the starved, fearful landscape of her inner life?

She curled tighter on the floor, the cold seeping into her clothes. She was tired. So incredibly tired of the constant battle, of the vigilant hiding, of the relentless noise of the demons. Harry’s concern, while terrifying in the moment, also offered a flicker of something else – a fragile sense of being seen, and despite that, not immediately rejected.

The path ahead felt impossibly long, shrouded in the shadows of her illness. But for the first time, the thought of not travelling it alone, of somehow finding the courage to reach out, felt less like an impossibility and more like a desperate, aching need. She just didn’t know how to build a bridge between her world of fear and his world of warmth, how to whisper her secret across the chasm that separated them.

The barrier remained, silent and seemingly insurmountable, leaving Harry standing in the quiet restaurant, wondering, worrying, while she was alone in her apartment, the sound of her own quiet weeping the only thing breaking the silence.

[shigarakisdumbwhore]

Here Without You - Dabi/Hawks Love Triangle

A/N: This fic is inspired by this ask. I'm not sure what took me so long to write it but here we are!! So shout-out to supernatural-hunter1 for the amazing idea, thank you so much!! Possibly will be a series. Also shout-out to my sister in law, a real one. She helped proof read, gave me some ideas, and helped with the name. I love you bby gurl

Summary: You had been developing a deep crush on Dabi for quite some time. But he was difficult to get through to and know. His distant demeanor made it hard to get close to him. However, when Hawks shows up, things take a turn in a different direction than you could have imagined. Dabi doesn't know your true feelings, you don't know Hawks is a spy, and they don't know you're in love with both of them. This love triangle is about to cause lots of drama and confusion.

Words: 2,241

Warnings: None, really. Except some violence and smut in future chapters. Yet to be written though.

Taglist: @supernatural-hunter1 @desiretdeni

AO3 Link

Dabi was always the smart and cunning guy. An asshole, but let's be honest… was your taste in men ever really that great? No, that's why you were formally a part of the Paranormal Liberation Front. You were here because you weren't really smart, or were you?

If Shigaraki truly meant his promise, and succeeded, that would mean you were smart. The world would be thrown into chaos but at least you wouldn't be on the hero's side, right? Take Hawks for example. He was a new recruit, a hero under disguise. He claimed to be on the villain's side. You hadn't met him yet, but Dabi talked about him. He seemed really distrusting of him.

Sometimes Dabi just needed to let things out. He was never really a vulnerable kind of guy. Most times he just muttered whatever insults, or vented about god only knows what. You were usually that person who paid attention. The others would roll their eyes, especially Twice who talked about Hawks in a completely different perspective. The strong difference in opinions made you really want to meet this guy, just to get a feel for yourself.

Tonight was one of those nights for Dabi. He was sitting outside on a log, a little ways from the base. He had been gone too long, so you came out to look for him. He didn't move or flinch when he heard you.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Heh," he scoffed. "I'm just thinking."

"About?"

No answer. That was expected. Oddly enough, Dabi was like a foggy piece of glass. If you got up really close, you could see something on the inside, except you could never make a clear image of it. He would never tell you what was truly on his mind, but the best you could do was give him some company as support. Dabi didn't really show appreciation to you. However, he didn't yell at you or discourage you from hanging around him.

There was a long period of silence. The night was a little cold and dark. Your arms were wrapped around you as you clung to the little body warmth you had. A chilling breeze came through, rustling the trees and dead leaves throughout the forest.

"Are you cold?" A small blue flame appeared, illuminating the side of his face and hand. You smiled.

"Yeah, a little." In front of you, he sent a large flame at the ground. All the dead leaves and twigs turned into fuel for his flames. The air became dry and hot as the warmth rushed to your face in a large wave, too much for you to handle. You scooted yourself back until the heat became tolerable, but Dabi stayed right where he was. There was an extended period of silence. Only the sounds of the fire cracking, the wind in the trees, and your own breath could be heard in the night.

After some time, Dabi stood up and offered to take you back. Despite not saying much, you could see that it healed Dabi. The look on his face had changed, and his eyes looked calm. You enjoyed your time together and wondered if he did too.

It's not like you cared what Dabi thought of you. You didn't like him… kind of. You didn't really know exactly how you felt about Dabi because having a crush on Dabi was like asking for a knife to the heart. He could never be a normal boyfriend in a healthy relationship. That was asking too much from him. Really, that was too much to ask from any man who was connected to the Paranormal Liberation Front. It was best not to get involved in romance for everyone's sake.

As you laid in bed, it kept you up. What were you and Dabi? Friends? Acquaintances? Strangers? Maybe lovers? It's not like you could ask him, getting an honest answer from Dabi was like pulling teeth. But did you care? Yes, oddly enough, you cared very much. And maybe he didn't feel the same. The rejection would break you.

The next morning was hard to get out of bed. Staying up thinking all night wasn't the best idea, especially when Twice came yelling into the room. The door opened fast, slamming into the wall. You sat up in excitement.

"What? Is it an emergency?"

"No! Yes! Hawks is here and I want you to meet him badly!" He was hopping around with excitement. Finally, you had the opportunity to meet the famous Hawks.

"Okay, okay, fine. Just let me wake up a sec-"

"Sorry, am I intruding? I wasn't sure exactly where Twice was taking me."

Walking through the door was a handsome blonde man. His hair was slicked back in the front and a bit messy in the back. He had thick-winged eyes that would rival any make-up artist. His features were strong and beautiful. Behind him were two large red wings. You felt like you'd seen him before but he looked so different in person.

In your embarrassed state, you jumped up out of bed and quickly tried to fix your appearance. However, wearing your little pajamas didn't help much. This handsome guy was Hawks. A few times you had heard or seen him on television but never paid attention. You wish you did now.

"N-no, it's fine. I'm Y/N."

"Hawks," he smiled as he extended his hand out to shake yours. As you reached out to meet his hand, you could feel butterflies in your stomach. God! Why did Twice have to bring him in at such a bad time? He should have known better as your wingman. Well, literally.

However, it was confusing. As exciting as it was to meet the famous Winged Hero: Hawks that Twice raved about, how would this go when you told Dabi? Would he understand or be upset? No matter how badly you wanted to hide it, you needed his approval deep down. What would you do?

You had liked Dabi for a long time. You could simply deny it no longer, but he was so distant. And here was this handsome man delivered to your bedroom. Sure, he was a hero at one point and still technically is, but he's been truly helping the cause. Twice wouldn't speak so highly of just anyone.

"It's nice to finally meet the guy Twice goes crazy for," you said, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

"Likewise, he talks about you a lot too. He's just a friendly guy." His voice was smooth and charming, as well as his looks, but that wasn't entirely enough to trust him. He had a head start because of Twice, but he still needed to prove himself.

Twice gave him a thumbs up as he said, "Oh, I'm so glad you two got along. Would have been much worse if Dabi was here."

Hawks rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful look on his face. "I'm sure he'll come around."

"Pfft, good luck with that…"

"Tough to come around?"

"Yeah, you could say that. He's kind of… nevermind, it doesn't really matter. We'll just see how you hold up here."

With that, the boys left the room so you could get dressed and ready for the day. Toga came in to do your hair as she usually does. She loved doing it in different styles and you let her because it seems she never got to have a good childhood, much less a good adolescence. Sometimes she teased you about Dabi, but you always denied it.

"I'm gonna do something pretty with it so you look pretty for Dabi," she giggled. She laid across the bed and did your hair over the edge as you sat down in front of the mattress. This gave her a good overhead angle.

You held a fashion magazine in your hand, flipping the page as you sighed, "You know I don't care about that." On it was a group of girls in beautiful dresses you wish you could own. If only you didn't pick this life for yourself, maybe you could wear a nice dress like that. Maybe if things were different, Dabi could take you out on a date with those dresses. A normal date where you both went to dinner at a fancy restaurant. But why was a villain daydreaming this about another villain? It would never be that way. Life wasn't that kind.

"Mhm-hmm," she rolled her eyes as she continued. Once she was done, she grabbed a mirror from beside her to show you. You smiled as you took a good look in your reflection. She always took good care of you, making sure you looked nice and beautiful.

"Thank you, Toga." You wrapped your arm around her and gave her a little side hug from the floor. She gave you a sweet smile as you left the room, hopefully to run into Dabi. Would he like your hair? Would he even notice it?

You didn't know much about Dabi. He didn't talk about his past, wouldn't share his real name, and dodged any personal questions. It was scary not knowing anything about him, especially when you liked him so much. It shouldn't matter regardless. Dabi wasn't boyfriend material. You'd end up heartbroken… but it was nice to dream about it.

In a perfect world, wearing that dress from the magazine. You both had money to dine at a fancy restaurant in a beautiful town. It was nighttime. The restaurant was decorated with string lights outside, where the waiter seated you two. The meals were delicious. You laughed and talked together all night. Maybe he wouldn't have his burn scars. You always wondered how he got those…

From behind, you heard a familiar voice call out your name. When you turned around to see who it was, you recognized Hawks. Curious as to why he was calling out to you, you stopped. He quickly walked up to you and smiled.

"I feel like we didn't get a proper introduction with the way Twice did it, so I came to really introduce myself." He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back. "Hawks." You couldn't help the blush from rushing to your face. It must have been noticeable because he chucked.

"Wh… what was wrong with our introduction before?" It was a stupid question, you knew why. But why did he care so much about how you two met?

"I felt bad with the way Twice introduced us. Not that he meant any harm."

"No, no, he's a great guy. He's just a bit oblivious sometimes." There was a short pause of silence. "You're quite flashy and audacious," you said, in reference to his new introduction.

"Eh, it's kind of what I'm known for," he chuckled.

You took this moment to really take in his features. The way he smiled, the color of his eyes, his mannerisms. He didn't seem the type to be a villain. That made you nervous. There had been one occasion, before you joined, that Twice made the mistake of bringing someone in that didn't quite belong. But you wanted to give Twice the benefit of the doubt.

His handsome looks or charm wouldn't work on you. You'd need to know more. There had to be a reason that Dabi didn't like him, and the only way to learn was to ask. Assuming Dabi would tell you, hopefully.

For a moment, you and Hawks made some small talk. He asked for a little tour and general information on everyone. Nothing was too suspicious so you answered what you knew and what would be safe to share. As you two went along, you could see why Twice was so fond of him. But that only made it so confusing why Dabi didn't.

"What made you join?"

"I wanted to be free. I feel too tied down with all the rules and stipulations. Especially the spotlight." He looked out ahead, but seemingly at nothing.

"I get the feeling," you looked down at your feet, reminiscing, "I felt the same way too."

"At least here, you can do as you please. That's what Twice told me Shigaraki says anyway. That's how I want to live."

"That's why I felt connected to Shigaraki too. I bet it's hard for you to always have people watching you, recording you, and whatnot. You're brave for being here, even if it's in the shadows."

He turned to look at you, and smiled. It was a warm smile that melted your heart. Hawks and you seemed so alike. So if Dabi didn't like Hawks, would that mean he secretly disliked you?

Time went by too fast, accidentally spending the whole day together. Hawks was so free and fun to be around, you hadn't noticed how late it had gotten.

"I should turn in now, I enjoyed talking to you."

"Is it that late already? Wow." He pulled his sleeve up to look at his watch. "Okay though, just promise I'll see you around again sometime soon."

You chuckled and blushed as you two went separate ways. You felt different inside. For the first time, you felt seen by a guy. Today went almost like those dreams with Dabi. It was strange. However, you decided to bury those feelings as you went inside your room to rest.

Reblogs are appreciated <3

Chapter Two