#sorry to the small but dedicated handful of readers who really loved these fics

[sorikkung]

people interacting w wgoin in my notes... this would be a rly bad time to say all my writing will probably be on hiatus for the indefinite future huh

[ellecdc]

elle elle elle can i request something with moon water killer (i think that's with barty?😭) with a reader inspired by the song Matilda by harry styles???

Since i saw you haven't gotten many requests with song inspo

omg! I'd never heard this song before! it's really beautiful, so thank you for sharing! also....I hope I did it justice <3 ** .... fuck ok I posted this and noticed you perhaps asked for reader to be Matilda coded? sorry I didn't catch that at the time

poly!moonwaterkiller x fem!reader who exceed expectations

CW: mention of Barty & Regulus' shitty childhoods and families (but nothing is described), lyrics are in a different font & the lyrics I inserted directly into the fic are in blue

You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up. You don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own.

Being born a Black came with a lot of expectations.

A young Black was expected to be well-groomed at all times, to be quiet, obedient, well-mannered, and have proper etiquette training.

They were expected to be dutiful sons and daughters, driven and successful students, and to keep up the family’s good name.

They were expected to grow into robotic adults, find a partner who was probably not too distantly related from them, and raise the next generation of Black children who would then wash, rinse, and repeat. 

Regulus Black expected the same for himself. 

He expected to be a dutiful son, a diligent student, a successful heir to the Black family name, and produce a suitable offspring who would amount to much the same. 

And by some brilliant stroke of luck, he did not meet those expectations. 

Though he tried to be a dutiful son, and he was indeed a diligent student, it hadn’t seemed to be quite enough for Orion and Walburga Black. 

And it wasn’t until Sirius left that Regulus realised that it would never be enough for them. 

So he left, too. 

You can let it go.

And when Regulus believed that there was lingering Darkness that flowed through his veins, he had found three people who saw the Light in him… even when he couldn’t. 

And Regulus won’t bore everyone with the details; but somehow that Light brought him here, to this day, with these people. 

And though both you and Remus were privy to the life Regulus lived growing up, neither of you truly understood it; and Regulus was happy for it.

But Barty did. 

Barty knew what it felt like to never live up to the expectations that came with your Name, to be perpetually wrong and disgraceful, and unfortunately that the consequences of such were really quite high. 

But they made it. They made it out.

Though it was not without scars.

Birthday’s had always been somewhat touchy for Barty, which may seem strange for the boisterous, egotistical, cocky son-of-a-bitch that everyone knew Barty to be.

A whole day? Dedicated to you? Where people were obligated to shower you with love and gifts? What self-absorbed, high-performing only child wouldn’t like that?

Barty didn’t.

Though Regulus supposed it was less that Barty didn’t like the idea, and more that birthday’s had never been a positive experience so he never quite knew how to handle them.

But - God love you both - you and Remus were determined to change that; and Regulus thought you might actually be succeeding. 

Because Regulus stood in the backyard of his small, cosy, modest townhouse with string lights hanging between beams and bannisters, basking the space in a golden glow as the small fire crackled and music played softly from Evan’s sound system that he brought for the event.

The event being Barty’s birthday. 

Everyone Barty loved was crammed into the small space; and the people Barty claimed not to love but rather tolerate (read: Remus’ friends) had shown up too. 

Throw a party full of everyone you know.

Regulus had the prime view from where he stood leaning against the wooden fence; some drink in his hand that Potter insisted was “so sodding good, mate, you’ll love it” - that Regulus could admit wasn’t horrid - as he watched Remus twirl you around in sloppy circles that the two of you seemed to think was a dance (years of proper etiquette and dance training would have Regulus saying otherwise). You threw your head back in a laugh that echoed in Regulus’ rib cage as Remus dipped you low; his honey brown curls glowing ethereally in the golden glow of the string lights as he pulled you back up to your full height to press a kiss to your lips. 

And Regulus’ prime viewing location also allowed him to watch Barty as he, too, watched the two of you.

Barty always talked of the pain like it’s alright; ever the comedian, he was always able to play off some of the most traumatic stories from his childhood as funny. And Regulus understood that; nothing about the way either of them had been treated had ever seemed especially alarming until now…until they saw that it could be better, that it should be better. 

Barty had been laughing and chatting with Evan, Pandora, Dorcas, and Marlene from the deck, but he had since opted to lean against the bannister as he watched two of his lovers enjoy the party; his party.

A party that Barty likely never imagined…expected for himself, a party that would have seemed impossible years ago. 

If the subtle glisten in Barty’s eyes and the mystified look on his face was enough to go by; the sentiment was not lost on Barty, either.

Their eyes met then; two boys whose families never showed them love who moved on to find freedom in love and a family that they started all on their own. 

It should have been impossible for Barty’s face to soften anymore than it had been as he watched you and Remus dancing, but it seemed to do just that when he shot Regulus a wink.

Regulus raised his glass to his boyfriend then; to growing up, to moving on, to showing love, to their little family.

And to exceeding every expectation either of them ever had for themselves.

[myspacebrat]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬.

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: imagine hate sex w ex boyfriend eddie!!! 😖😖😖 like you’re at a party that your good friend robin dragged you to and of course you had to see your ex!! and he catches you with another guys hands all over you and he gets insanely jealous and fucks you in a random room. degrading you, and slapping your ass and shit 😝😝

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, angst, sweet baby steve, mean!eddie, mentions of weed and alcohol, degradation, bitch is used twice, hair pulling, face slapping, choking, slight oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, rough hate sex, cream pie, steve and reader are end game.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you came through with this nonnie, hope you like <3 omg surprise yall this is not a steddie fic, I know crazy. Thank you to the loml @xxhellfirebunnyxx for reading and hyping me up!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k

The bass booms from the speakers as some top 40s pop hit plays throughout the oversized house. The solo cup in your hand nips at your fingers, the condensation causes them to prune as you babysit the pungent spiked punch that sits halfway full, ice completely melted from your abandonment. 

You didn’t really want to come to this New Year’s party, but Robin begged and pleaded, telling you with her best puppy dog eyes that this could be her last chance to make a move on Vickie, so you bit the bullet and decided to make it a good night, the last of the year. 

In your efforts to forget about your ex boyfriend you had broken up with two weeks ago, you made up your mind that tonight you were going to move on; so you picked out your skimpiest black dress, knee high boots and did your make up and hair to perfection. You knew he’d be there but that was something you were eagerly trying to forget about, you weren’t getting cute for him, no. You weren’t spritzing on the perfume he loved, in an effort to grab his attention. Nope, not at all! 

Robin had left your side the minute you stepped through the door, but you couldn’t be too mad about it, you both had a game plan and she was very dedicated to finally getting the girl she’s been pining after all year. 

You take a sip of your overly spiked drink, not able to hide the distaste as your eyebrows furrow and your nose scrunches up in disgust. 

“Yeah, the punch is pretty awful.” A familiar voice says with a chuckle, when you turn your head in an attempt to put a face to it, you quickly realize it belongs to none other than Steve Harrington who’s smirking down at you, eyes roaming your body. Clearly his cocky king Steve persona has accompanied him. 

“Yeah, it tastes like ass.” You say with another scrunch of your nose making Steve cackle at your words. 

“Hey, I’m not even gonna ask how you know what that tastes like.” He says playfully, eyes growing darker as he moves closer into your space. “You’re not here with your little boy toy?” He observes as he looks around for Eddie, who normally held you as close to him as possible at these functions. 

“We broke up.” Steve’s face lights up like a Christmas tree at your words, like he’s excited that you’re now ‘on the market’. 

“Well, I would say sorry but…I’m not.” The bluntness of his words makes you crack a smile, which causes him to beam at you, a genuine pretty smile graces his lips. “You wanna dance?” He asks as he moves in closer, hands going straight to your hips. 

You quickly look around before answering, noticing a heavy amount of bodies on the makeshift dance floor. “Um, sure why not?” You glance around one more time as you feel eyes on you, but no one seems to be paying you and Steve a lick of attention. 

West end girls by pet shop boys begin to play from the heavy booming speakers, and you can’t help but smile hard as it’s one of your favorites. Steve’s hands graze over your hips and the small of your back as you both dance, a serious dance turning into silly attempts to make each other laugh and it works, he’s completely made you forget about your shithead ex. When two of hearts by Stacey Q starts playing you’re both touching each other in ways that are anything but friendly, his hands move to your ass as your hips grind against his. You can’t help but feel the slight hard on behind his blue jeans, the feeling of it on your hip has you biting at your glossed lip. 

It was easy to lose yourself to the beat of the music and in the gentle, sweet touches of Steve’s soft hands, the total opposite of Eddie’s rough calloused ones. 

“You’re so beautiful,” the former jock whispers into your ear, and his words have your heart pounding and your thighs begging to clench. “I always thought so.” He finishes before pulling you even closer, arms wrapped snug around your body. 

As the music slows and holding back the years by simply red begins to play, Steve grabs your hips a little rougher, looking down at you with a smile full of longing. He moves in and your breath hitches, thinking he’s moving in to kiss you but instead he places a chaste kiss right on the side of your neck, it's sweet and gentle, just like him. It’s not something that you’re entirely used to, not something you normally enjoyed. But maybe something you need. 

When the song ends you pull away with a small smile, “I have to use the restroom really quick, I’ll be back okay?” His smile falters a bit but doesn’t drop completely, he shakes his head and places his hands in his pockets, moving closer to the couch so he can sit and wait for you. The whole display pulls at your heart strings and makes your feet move faster across the hardwood floor, so you can get back to him quicker. 

But once you enter the dark hall, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and pull you. You squeak out a scream and a hand covers your mouth, but before you can lash out and begin kicking and screaming; a very, very familiar set of brown eyes meet yours. 

“Shut up.” Eddie hissed as he closed the door to some random bedroom, locking it before you can even wrap your head around what’s going on. “You havin’ fun out there with your little friend?” The anger in his voice is prevalent as he looks you up and down and shakes his head, as if he has any right to be disappointed. 

“Yeah, actually I was having a great time until you came along.” You seethe before turning to wrap your hand around the doorknob. 

“Wait, can we talk, please? Cmon sweetheart, this is killing me. I miss you.” His big doe eyes are dilated and you can smell the weed on his leather jacket, and the remnants of it on his hand that had been placed over your mouth five seconds ago. 

“You’re high Eddie. Don’t you have other girls to bother?” You say, rolling your eyes before a sneer graces your futures.  

“I told you, she’s a friend. She supports the band's music, that's it! I’ve never fucked her, baby. I swear.” His big eyes look so inviting and honest but you know what you saw, they were flirting and he looked way to into it for it to be friendly. 

“Whatever, who cares anymore. Can I leave?” You say with a bitter taste in your mouth for this conversation, you’re done and you just want Eddie to leave you alone so you can get back to your fun night with Steve. 

“No, you can’t.” He says before his hands move to your hips, “if this is it, let me have you one last time princess, please?” His fingertips dig into your skin hard, it makes your legs twitch and your panties start to dampen. 

“One last time?” You ask as you study his face. 

“If that’s what you want, then yes.” He says as his shoulders slump at the thought of never having you again. 

“Fine, but make it quick. I have someone I want to get back to.” Your stomach sours at the thought of leaving Steve to have sex with your ex. But you don’t really owe anything to Steve, it’s not like you came here together and now you’re ditching him, or like you’re even together at all. That’s enough to have you grabbing and tugging at Eddie’s stupid belt. The way you tug at his clothes and scratch at his skin is very obvious this is going to be a hate fuck, and he’s not mad at the idea. Needing to let out some pent up feelings of having to see you and that fucking square Harrington on the dance floor, all cuddled up and shit. 

He rips your dress over your head, smirking at the site in front of him. No bra, just black lace panties that sit high on your hips. He licks his lips as he takes you in, just your panties and knee high boots. A fucking vision. 

“Get on the bed you little slut.” He orders and a thrill runs through your body at his words “legs open for me, let me see you.” He grunts out another demand before moving in closer, walking up to the bed like a predator ready to pounce on their prey. “Were you planning on fucking that loser?” He asks through gritted teeth at the thought of you underneath Steve as he treats you like a fucking piece of glass. That’s not what you need, not what you want either and he knows that. 

“Not tonight.” You say with a sweet smile, it’s fake and Eddie can see right through it. His big ringed hand comes down and grabs a handful of your hair, “what the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?” His face is now inches from yours as he waits for an answer, teeth clenching together making his jaw tighten with anger.

“I wasn’t planning on fucking him tonight, but if we hit it off, which we were. Then yeah, I’d probably fuck him if we went out again.” You answer back boldly, way too boldly for the man in front of you who has your hair wrapped around his knuckles, his face is the most visibly pissed you’d ever seen him. “You’d really let him touch you? Touch what’s mine?” His lips are just inches from yours, his warm weed breath hits your nose and god, you want to kiss him so bad. 

But you don’t, that’s not what this is about. 

“I’m not yours anymore, remember?” You remind him as your lips pull away from the too close proximity of his, an eyebrow shoots up on your forehead as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’, making Eddie immediately jump into action, ripping your panties off your frame in one quick and rough motion. 

“You will always be mine, no matter what happens between us, I need you to get that through your thick fucking skull.” He grates before slapping your cheek harshly. “My pussy, my ass, my mouth. Mine always.” His fingertips grab and dig into the hollows of your cheeks as he hovers over you between your spread thighs. “Say you understand. Say you’re my little whore.” His fingers dig into you even harsher, making your teeth poke at the skin. You whine in pain, but fuck if you aren’t completely soaked from how rough he’s being with you. 

“I’m your little whore.” You whine, his tight grip on your cheeks doesn’t falter, his mischievous eyes look over your face as he smiles down at you, as if all the love he’d once had dissipated into thin air. 

“That’s a good little slut, knows her place.” He hummed in satisfaction “You gonna keep being good for me, or you gonna be a brat?” His eyebrows shoot up in question as he licks his plump lips. 

“Yes, I’ll be good for you.” He gives one more slap to your cheek before he begins removing his jeans off his hips to drop at his boots, then he removes his blue checkered boxers in one tug. 

He grabs his hard cock at the base as he continues to look over your body, lying useless on the plush bed. “Gotta give it a kiss before you say goodbye, baby.” His grin eats up his entire face as his laugh lines deepen. As if on command you get up onto your knees and duck your head down to kiss and mouth at his leaking tip. You couldn’t lie, you were going to miss this no matter how much of an asshole he was. 

“That’s it. Good little greedy bitch.” His head tilts back on his shoulders as he releases a deep breath. 

Before you can take him fully into your mouth he reaches down and grabs your neck roughly, throwing you back onto the tacky duvet. 

“Didn’t tell you you could suck it. Did I?” His voice is a low rumble, making you heat up from the inside out. 

“Mm-mm.” Is all you can say as he squeezes the sides of your neck, not hard enough to restrict air flow but hard enough to have your eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

“Then be my good little cum dump and listen to what the fuck I say.” He strokes his cock faster, bringing it up to your soaked folds and slapping it against your clit, hard. 

“Fuck!” You cry out before he begins soothing it with soft rubs of his frenulum against your throbbing nub, creating the perfect friction that has you hissing and groaning. 

“Perfect little pussy. You think Stevie can fuck this little cunt like I can? You think he’s gonna give you what you need?” He whispers hotly, cock now prodding at your dripping hole, he pushes in with one quick thrust and sheethes himself more than halfway inside of you, making your legs hike up over his hips and wrap around his back. Most of his clothes are still on, besides his black jeans and blue boxers that are pooled at his ankles. His leather jacket and megadeth shirt still covering all the parts you want to bite and suck on. 

“Answer me! You think Steve can fuck you the way you need to be fucked? Like the filthy slut you are?” Eddie's words get cruder as his voice gets meaner, your lip pouts but he doesn’t miss the way you clench, so warm and tight around him. 

“No, no one fucks me like you Eddie!” You mewl, it’s true but the words feel like molten lava when they leave your mouth, not wanting to give him that ego boost he’s begging for. 

“I’m gonna cum in this cunt and you’re gonna go back out there to your little boyfriend with me dripping down your fucking leg.” He thrusts harder into your walls, grabbing your legs and folding you in half as he uses you like his own personal fuck toy. 

His ringed hand finds its way back in your hair, tugging harshly as he begins kissing your jaw, down to your throat and then the tops of your tits as they bounce from his rough movements. 

“You sexy little bitch.” He pulls your hair harder as his other hand moves between your writhing bodies, he rubs his thumb against your clit fast and with entirely too much pressure but the way his cock is hitting your spot over and over you can’t help but to let go, your high instantly taking over; legs shaking and head thrown back as you succumb to the bliss that Eddie never fails to bring you. 

“Oh fuck! Im gonna fill you the fuck up, so full baby, you’re gonna be so full of me.” He laughs like he’d beat you at whatever game this was, he did. And that thought has you pushing him off as soon as he’s done.

You pull your panties back on and tug your dress up. Giving the metalhead one more death glare before you yank the door open, leaving it to slam behind you. 

You move back out into the crowd of people, looking everywhere for those chestnut locks and honey eyes, as your heart pounds through your ears. You feel terrible, but you just can’t help yourself with Eddie. He knows your body too well, knows exactly how to get you going. But that’s all going to change, no more weakness, no more giving into his bad boy smirk and big dumb eyes. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you okay? Thought you left without saying goodbye.” Steve says as he comes out of the jam packed kitchen. 

“Sorry, I-I um,” you didn’t want to lie, you felt like you owed him the truth at least, especially if this was gonna go anywhere. “I ran into Eddie and we talked.” You look down at your leather boots as the lie falls from your lips, you didn’t want to outright say ‘I’m sorry I fucked my ex while I should’ve been out here with you.’ 

“Just talked?” His eyes find yours, but his face is so kind and earnest, you just want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go. 

“Well, no. But I’m done, this time for good.” You reassure with a nod of your head. 

“It’s okay, I understand. Just I-I really like you, and I have for a while. I just wanna be sure what you had with Munson is over before we start something.” He grabs your shoulder and pulls you into his arms. God you could cry from how sweet and gentle he is. 

“It’s more than done, it’s dead and buried.” You murmur into his chest, soaking up his gentle caress.

“You wanna get out of here?” Steve asks, kissing the top of your head as his thumb rubs circles into your back. 

“Yes, please.” You smile up at him before taking his hand in yours and heading to the front door.

Your eyes lock with Eddie’s for a minute too long, and the look on his face is a mixture of triumph and deep jealousy.

A girl sitting to his left whispers something in his ear, causing you to instantly look away. 

He’s not your business anymore. 

[gennemi]

Hiii

This is my first time requesting, so sorry if it's too long. I've been thinking about a one shot about Mihawk, in which the reader is the daughter of a Navy Admiral and this man really hates pirates and even repudiates the warlords sea. Then the reader's father decides to take his daughter to a marine party in order to find her a respectable husband and being able to get her engaged. But the unexpected happens, reader feels very attracted to Mihawk and he feels the same, and I imagine they dance and they flirt, sexual tension in the air.

My inspiration was basically the song my oh my by Camila Cabello, I feel like it goes a bit with Mihawk and I would like it to go with that style . Anyway, I hope the request is not a problem, have a good day or night😊

𝑴𝒚 𝑶𝒉 𝑴𝒚 (𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

A/N: When I tell you I loved this! I loved it!!! I loved writing it! (With the help of one of my good friends! He's also a one piece fan! And wanted to help me a bit!) I put all my dedication into this!! It was so cute! Almost makes me want to turn this into a small multi chapter fic! I hope you love this Lovely! Thank you for requesting this cute ask! ✨❤

Warnings: none! Fluff! Both reader and Mihawk pinining for each other, them flirting with each other!

Based on this song:

My Oh My

Let me know if the link doesn't work! ❤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was getting ready for some marine party that her dad is wanting to take her to. She sighed, not being too big on parties, considering some of the parties the marines host are boring. She hoped that something would happen while there, to make it less boring. But she doubted there would be. “Y/N you ready to leave?” She heard her dad, she let out another sigh, she was not looking forward to this. Especially since she knows her dads true reasons for wanting her to attend these parties. He wants her to ‘Find a husband.’ In his words. She walked out her room to be face to face with her father. “Come on Y/N you will love it! Now let's get going!” Her dad spoke, she had no choice but to follow.

At the party, she stayed in one corner of the room. Refusing to dance with any man, she just wanted to leave this party. 'Damn you dad, for dragging me to this….’ She cursed her dad in her head, until she noticed a man that caught her eye. He was standing not too far away from her, his golden, hawk-like eyes observing his surroundings. As if he was judging. On top of his black hair, he sported a wide-brimmed black hat, decorated with a large plume, he wore a long, open black coat, with what looked to be red velvet inside, with no shirt? The coat also had red, flower-patterned sleeves and collar, with white pants, and black boots. He also seemed to have a large sword on his back, and a cross around his neck. That man was none other than Dracule Mihawk, one of The Seven Warlords of the Sea.

His golden eyes continued to look around, a frown etched upon his form. Until his eyes met hers. She quickly looked away, a blush adorning her face. Not realizing said man was approaching her. “Hello M’lady, couldn’t help but notice you staring at me. Was there something that interested you?” He mused, suddenly now beside her, causing her to look up at the taller man. Seeing him up close, caused the blush on her face to worsen. He was a gorgeous man. She feels attracted to him already, but she knew how her father felt about pirates let alone the Warlords. She knew who Mihawk was, well more of the lines she's heard things about the said man. Just never met him till now. He somehow also felt attracted to her as well, she was beautiful.

He put one of his larger hands out. “May I have the pleasure to dance with such beauty as yourself~?” He offered, looking into her eyes, with those golden eyes of his. She glanced around quietly and quickly for her father, checking for him. Although seeing her eyes glance around as if looking for someone, he still stared at her with patience. Her beautiful e/c eyes then landed back on his. “I would like that.” she finally answered softly, gently placing her smaller hand in his bigger hand. Having received an answer, he gently led her to the dance floor before he pulled her close to him. Their bodies touched as he put his other hand on her waist while she put her other hand on his broad shoulder. The two started to dance around to the music that was playing. The sexual tension between the two was already in the air, as they danced. He looked down at her, she was absolutely ravishing. The two continued to dance, as if it was only them. No one else, but them. He noticed though, that she seemed to still be on the lookout for someone.

“Relax M’lady, you seem tense.~” He spoke in a flirty tone, causing her to look back at him with cheeks slightly flushed. “Well it's not every day a girl sees a sexy man who has no problems showing what's beneath the shirt.~” She retorted with a slight smirk. Hawkeye's lips twitched upward slightly in response. 

She's been flirted with before multiple times. Sometimes, she's had to flirt back to get rid of the guy who obviously didn't love her for her. She wanted someone that saw/loved her for her, not just to get into her pants, hence why she always refused to even get married. Because most of the men only saw her for her body, not for her. But the man that was dancing around with her, twirling her around, flirting with her. Seemed different, promising even. It was making her heart race in her chest, almost like it was about to beat out of her chest. This man was drop dead gorgeous. 

He twirled the smaller girl around, then brought her back to him. She felt like she was on cloud 9 just from the dance, plus the close proximity of the two. The tension was high in the air between the two as they graced over the floor. Unconsciously, their breaths came out in sync. The music was the only thing besides each other's breathing that they could hear around them. They were so wrapped up with each other, they forgot about everyone else there. To them it was only them, no one else. But them.

Soon though, the song that was playing slowly came to an end. He dipped her, as the two remained looking into each other's eyes. He brought her back up gently. “I enjoyed that dance.~” He said with a flirtatious smirk on his handsome face. He brought her smaller hand up to his lips giving it a light kiss. “I hope to see you again.~” He purred, as he continued to look at her with his Hawk-like golden eyes. “Me too.~” she cooed back, blushing at his beautiful eyes.

After the party, she sat in her room. All she could think of is that beautiful man, she was hoping to see him again….Who knows? Could it be fate for them to meet again?

[yingatlas]

Hey! I want to request if you don't mind, Fu Hua x Mantis!Reader, basically this reader I really like that fic lmao, thank you anyway!

Hellooo <333 ofc I actually hadn’t read that one yet until you requested this and it was so cute I loved it

I hope you don’t mind any sort of plot holes or such cause I actually haven’t really finished the ER/PE story yet 😓 (also sorry if the ending seems kinda rushed)

I found you, you found me

Fu Hua x Mantis Reader

You had been in the moths much longer than Fu hua due to getting caught up in honkai attacks at a young age.

When both of your parents had died the moths was the only place left for you to go

You dedicated everything into fighting because in truth what else was there for you to live for?

Due to this you became a mantis at a young age, not caring for the risk of the outcomes, you were one of the few who volunteered and one of the even fewer that survived

But you couldn’t feel anything, your already dull life seem to grow even dimmer.

You lost taste in food and anything that affected the normal human senses seem to dwindle for you

However that does mean you can actually be near and interact with Kevin without feeling his coldness. (This makes him secretly happy)

Everything just felt empty though, no matter what you would do in the end it got you nowhere, life was simply a chore and fighting was all you knew how to do.

Then she had to walk into your life, a broken yet determined girl had suddenly came crashing into your life…. Well technically it was you who came crashing into hers, literally

Being flung through the battle grounds and crashing into the raven haired girl was not part of your usual routine but here you guys were.

Honestly it was just a simple clearing out mission nothing too big but you being you couldn’t feel an injury on yourself until it was too late and a sharp pain took over your body

A large honkai beast took notice of this weakness and immediately rammed into you sending you flying. You would had probably gotten more injuries had a certain young girl around your age appeared in your way and help break your fall

As you got up and were about to apologize/say thank you, you instead had to grab the other girl and duck as an attack was hurled at you two

Snapping out of it you both immediately got back into battle, on the battlefield you two were warriors, not human.

However after the battle, that same girl managed to find you again. She introduced herself to you

“Hua…” you said testing how her name rolled off your tongue. It was surprisingly easy and something just felt right about it.

Hua nodded her head with a small sound of confirmation. “And you? Who might you be”

“Call me Y/n” you said bluntly and a look of realization came across her face.

“Yes, I believe Kevin had mentioned you to me just before this” she said, which didn’t surprise you much. Kevin was fond of you due to you being unaffected by his current state and also one of the few who had successfully became a mantis.

“Mhm, Dr. Mei had mentioned another mantis would be in this mission. If I’m not mistaken we must be around the same age then.” Hua nodded in confirmation as silence fell upon you two.

Hua, not knowing what to do, studied you a bit and instantly noticed your injuries that you seemed to pay no attention to. “Are you going to treat your injuries soon?” She asked, pointing them out

You looked dumbly at her before looking down at yourself. “Ah… I had forgotten about these. Perhaps I should, but it would take too long.”

“So you’re just going to go untreated” a hint of concern was present in her voice

“Perhaps, I’ll see what I can do for myself though-” you felt a hand grab your arm as you were dragged away

“Come, I will at least apply the necessary first aid needed” you dumbfoundedly followed Hua as she led you away from your previous spot. She made you sit down as she grabbed a box filled with medical supplies.

You both sat in silence as Hua begins to clean and bandage up the wounds that were littered around your body.

It was a comfortable silence and you couldn’t help but to feel relaxed and warm at this feeling of being taken care of

Wait….

Feel?

That isn’t right.

After that interaction you found yourself meeting with Hua more often. Whether it was coincidence or your own body unconsciously leading you to her you wouldn’t know

At the very least Hua doesn’t seem to mind the company so you’ll continue to stick around her.

Though this got some teasing from Elysia and intrigued looks from a few others. Your almost instant connection with Hua felt almost like second nature.

You’re not sure why, and Hua doesn’t seem to understand the extent of how out of character this is for you but you can’t help but want to stay with her and protect her from everything. Even her own mind sometimes.

Yes, perhaps jumping in front of an attack with an already unstable body that was on the verge of breaking due to overuse in battle was not the best idea you’ve ever had.

But in your defense, it was aiming at Hua and her getting hurt right in front of you es just unacceptable.

As you awaken in a hospital bed, your eyes immediately noticed the sleeping figure laying their head down next to you.

“Hua…” you mutter, unable to not keep her name from escaping your lips. It was such a pleasant feeling, to say her name, you could do it a millions times if it meant the warm feeling inside of you would remain

Hua stirred before her eyes cracked open. They seemed dazed for a moment as she processed everything

You were awake, her body snapped up, eyes looking at you in shock. You stared back with an unreadable expression like always

Hua simply relaxed a bit as her hand gripped the bed sheets tightly. “You’re awake, thank god” her voice was quiet with a bitter yet relieved expression

You nodded and took the hand she was gripping onto the bed so tightly into yours, loosening the grip of it. You didn’t like it when she did that all agitation and stressed, you liked it when she was relaxed. Hua knew this

“Even now you’re still focused and worried about me… why? You could have nearly died due to my ignorance.” Hua was frustrated, why did you always do this, why for her, what did she do to deserve such protection from you?

“I didn’t want to see you hurt” You responded calmly, almost like it was as obvious as what color the sky was

This only made her more frustrated. She stood up “you think I want to see you hurt too!? Y/n what you did was reckless and idiotic, had your body not mange to pull itself together you would not be here. The mission would have been a failure and I—…”

Hua’s voice died down at the end as she looked down

“I could have lost you too… and it would have been all my fault-”

Hua found herself not being able to continue as arms wrapped around her abruptly pulling her close. It was a bit of an awkward position due to you still being bed bound but it was warm

“Y/n! What-” “I’m sorry hua please forgive me”

She looked at you in shock as there were silent tears in your eyes. Why? Why were you shedding tears for her? How were you shedding tears? This all confused her

“Hua, none of what happened was your fault. I was so scared to see you hurt, I wanted so badly to protect you. I didn’t even know I could still possess these emotions or any emotions. But you still make me feel them and I latched onto it.” You didn’t even let her get a word in before continuing again.

“You make me feel things I never would have thought I could possess again. In this soulless life I found comfort in your warmth, so please don’t think badly of yourself.” Hua was in no way a love expert but even to her this sounded like a confession. It comforted her in a different way then normal, it was so warm.

So warm that the icy cold exterior she had melted immediately as she cried in your arms. You started to panic fearing you had done something wrong. “Hua? Hua I’m sorry please don’t cry.”

You tried to brush the tears away gently cupping her cheek only for her to lean into your touch… and upwards. A soft pair of lips met yours and you froze, the only thing you could manage was to close your eyes.

As she pulled away you both stared into each other’s eyes. A small blush dusted her face as your mouth was hung open in shock. “I have never once liked seeing a comrade put themselves in harms way. You are no exception to that fact. In fact, you are the one person that I cannot lose.”

Your eyes softened at her words. You let Hua curl up against you as you held her. Leaving a kiss on her temple. “I won’t leave you Hua, I never will. A moth cannot stray from it’s light, and you burn too brightly for me to loose you”

After that, you two were officially dating, though never stated out loud it others it was obvious.

When it came time for the previous era to come to end and the current era to begin, you were along side Hua.

However due to the complications it was decided that while you both were to complete the same task it would be in different areas.

This sadden Hua but you brushed it off “no matter how long it will take I will come back to you, whether you have forgotten me or not will not stop me from being by your side.”

These words brought her comfort as she knew you had meant those words. Entrusting Hua’s care to Fuxi and Nuwa. You two had to part ways

Eventually, Fu Hua’s memories of you had faded until they were completely destroyed in the fight against Sirin. This had broken her in a way she couldn’t understand.

In times of need she found herself longing for the comfort of someone familiar she couldn’t remember, she found herself unconsciously seeing certain fighting styles that made her lost in thought

You were someone that took on many identities over your lifetimes. Fading into the background was normal for you, you had done that a lot during your time with the moths.

Leading others to the goal while remaining undetected was much easier than actually being the leader.

However eventually someone had taken notice of your presence. A man by the name of Welt, Welt Joyce, the first Herrscher of Reason.

Then boom you were sucked into the chaos of Anti-Entropy generally assisting them from time to time while still keeping your identity mostly hidden from others.

You helped them make better tech using your knowledge from the previous era which basically had made you Einstein and Tesla’s go to test subject lab partner

In exchange, they kept your identity a secrete, help you fulfill the goal of passing on your knowledge to the correct era, and finally, gave you tabs as to how Fu Hua was doing.

Despite the many years that have passed your memories of your light was something you treasured. Even if her journey didn’t include you in it, it doesn’t matter to you. Knowing she’s safe is enough for you.

Only after the whole HoS and HoD incident was when you two finally reconnected. Fu Hua had obtained some of her memories back and that included those with you. At first it pained her a bit to know she had no idea of someone she had treasured so deeply before.

She didn’t know how you were or if you were even alive. Had you change? What were you doing for so long? Had you kept you promise or did you forget about her by now? It was all confusing to Fu Hua

Due to the injures she had sustained in the battle with Dominance, Fu Hua was referred to a few days of rest (despite saying how she was feeling fine)

She was getting an examination with Tesla and Einstein when they had told her how they were expecting a “lab partner/a stoic idiot” to show up soon. They said how they would like her to meet said lab partner, which confused her a bit but she didn’t questioned if.

“Doctor Einstein, I had gotten your signal. Was there something you needed to discuss-…” You paused at your eyes took in the very familiar face and body of your (past?) lover. You stood in shock as Fu Hua looked back mirroring your expression.

Einstein ushered doctor Tesla out as she gave you a knowing look and felt you two alone.

You blinked “Hua..?” You asked trying to see if she had recognized you. Which the answer was obviously yes. “Y/n” the name had rolled off her tongue so easy. Yes, it felt right

At that confirmation, the room grew silent. Fu hua didn’t know what she could say to you. Not like either of you two were big talkers before anyways.

Then, when the silent tears rolled down your face that reminded her so much of her memories of that night she stood closer to you and cupped your face.

Wiping your tears she was greeted with the realization of how the roles were reversed now yet it still felt so right.

“Hua… I found you”

“You found me, y/n”

Fu hua gently held you as you basked in her warmth, like a moth to a flame, you had been guided to her once more.

[huexuri]

Hello again Xuri, I have a specific request for you if you would write it for me please. Tonight my 9 year old leopard gecko died in my hands who was my emotional support animal for my severe anxiety, depression and OCD, I mean not legally but she always made me feel so much better instantly, giving me way more relief and comfort than any amount of medicine ever could (and I’m prescribed Xanax). Always making me feel like everything was gonna be okay once I had her in my hands or against my chest. And so I wanted to know if you would write about either boyfriend!Yeonjun or boyfriend!Beomgyu (you choose), comforting you after the loss a pet for me please? If you do I’d like it to be mostly fluff and just super sweet with some gentle comfort sex at the end. Again, if you could, I would really appreciate it. Could use a pick me up right now as I feel so empty without my Little Lady (that was my nickname for her). No pressure but thank you if you do 🫶🏻💕

-✨

hey pretty! i'm sosososo sorry for your loss first of all, losing a pet to the heavens is definitely a hard reality to even grasp. even just thinking about the loss of something/someone i love makes my stomach churn with anxiety, so i can't imagine how bad you feel right now. i'm sorry if i answered this late, i'm just less on tumblr for now so yeah i'll write a little drabble for you, and i'll try to make this gender neutral only js this once because i don't know what you're comfortable with and this is dedicated to you, i hope it helps<3 again, so sorry for your loss.

--

NSFW, MDNI!! - short fic

bf!yeonjun comforting you after losing a pet

warnings: gn!reader, bf!yeonjun, soft sex, crying(not dacry), mentions of loss of pet (d3ath), grief ofc, yeonjun comforts u, praise

note: p/n = pet's name

--

"honey, i'm home!" yeonjun shouts to the four walls infront of him as he shuts the door and his keys drop onto the table with a cling. he throws his bag on the floor without a care and takes off his coat.

"y/n?" yeonjun shouts again, but with no avail. he starts to look around the house to look for you, but he immediately stops in his tracks, his face dropping the moment he hears weeping coming from your room.

"b-baby, are you okay???" he frantically walks to your bedroom door, not shouting this time but with a softer, more comforting tone he approaches your doorknob and knocks above it before letting himself in.

yeonjun immediately slams the door behind him and runs to you, absolutely broken sitting on your bed as your tears stain the pillows you've dug your head into.

"y/n?.." your boyfriend settles beside you and pats you on the shoulder as you turned your head away. "what's wrong? why are you crying? please don't cry my love.."

"...p-p/n..." your voice trembled, cracking in between sniffles and hickups.

yeonjun nodded his head patiently, waiting for you to continue your sentence.

"p-passed,,—" you stuttered, unable to continue your sentence without sobbing even louder, burying your head deeper into the pillows. yeonjun immediately sympathized with you, instantly understanding what you're going to say.

"oh god... i'm so, so sorry." yeonjun sat closer to you, giving you a warm hug as you slowly returned it, beads of tears falling onto his collar as your head rests in the very crook of his neck.

"do you want any comfort? perhaps i can make you feel better? a massage, or—"

"i really... need you to pleasure me, p-please.. that's all i want right now," you hug him even tighter, your fingers fisting the back of his shirt and crumpling it.

"oh,... well of course, if that's what you need, i'll do it for you. you just sit back and relax okay?" yeonjun patted the small of your back, kissing you on the lips as he slowly pulled apart from your embrace. he lightly picks you up, settling you in a much more comfortable position lying on your back.

first, he kissed you all over with love as he cupped your cheek and sweeps your pretty tears away. he then kneeled in between your thighs and positioned his already hardening erection at your entrance, dragging your shorts away to the side for access.

he's quick to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants along with his boxers. the cock you've always treated with love presses against the rim of your hole to lubricate it.

"i'm going to put it in, okay? tell me when it hurts or anything like that." yeonjun reassures, you nod your head, looking up at him with your swollen eyes.

yeonjun slowly thrusts in, and you take him inch by inch. it felt like nothing but pleasure, and this was exactly what you needed. nothing could make you feel better but a bit of soft sex with the only person that you know is your barricade — the person who you could always depend on to feel something other than pain for once, the person that never fails to destress you, or the person that never stops hyping you up when you're confident...

yeonjun who you're so grateful to be with, that always makes you feel amazing even when he's not fucking you.

he slowly increases his pace, but no faster than anything that could make you feel hurt. constantly asking you if it feels good and making sure you're not in any more pain than you already emotionally are.

"mm.. you're doing so well my love. you're my pretty baby, you know?" yeonjun smiles at you as he thrusts in and out, heavy breaths escaping the both of you.

"fuck... it feels g-good.." you mutter, this being the first time at your attempt at making a complete sentence since jjunnie came home.

"mmh, feels good baby? that's what i like to hear." yeonjun coos, not in a teasing tone but in a comforting one as he caresses your stomach, mouthing "so good for me," over and over again.

"shit, c-close baby. want me to pull out?" yeonjun waits for your answer as he's panting.

"yeah,," you mumble in response.

yeonjun pulls out, biting his lip as he fists himself over and over again, making sure to aim it at your tummy,

"mhh, fuckfuckfuck—" yeonjun's eyes squint, his lips part slightly,,

with one final pump, he splays his hot cum all over your chest and stomach. yeonjun collapses to lay beside you. his warm hand travels along your torso to hug you.

"thank you for that, jjun." you finally reply.

"i love you okay? don't ever forget that." yeonjun whispers as he digs his head into your hair.

"love you too.." as your red eyelids fluttered shut, and you drifted off to sleep.

--

[ben-wisehart]

hi! do you ever feel like the bingqiu fandom is binghe biased? like a lot of the time its giving.. “wow binghe is our little precious bun who deserves the world and more! ..oh and stinky neet loser sqq is so blessed to have him lul” it feels unfair towards sqq :( it makes me sad hes no ones fave but thats okay like whatever right? but even when its bingqiu hes treated like an afterthought. like we have binghe fans criticising sqq for not doing more, sj fans are frankly delusional, sqh fans think hes “too mean” to their precious hamster, liushen fans only like him bc hes a good hole/dick for lqg (obligatory “not all men” lol) idk i only follow a handful of svsss twt accs because no one seems to like him, he feels either tolerated or treated as a gag character lol 🥹

i just dislike a lot of fanon bingqiu i think? i read all the books before hopping on twitter and i see some absolute rancid takes on there like the woobification of Shaun(tm) qinghua and jiumei.. which is easy enough to avoid tbf so whatever floats their boat idc. but when i follow bingqiu accs, it feels like OC x OC rather than ~bingqiu~ if that makes sense? like i LOVE the manipulative crybaby domtop x flustered thin face subby pillow princess they have going on!! and fanon bingqiu is just.. not it? and obv id never send hate or anything (i just block and keep it moving) but it makes it kinda sucky when the fandom is already teeny tiny and a large chunk of the fandom isnt what i envisioned/expected i guess which is so odd! when they essentially erase canon!! if it’s like some queerbaity ship or whatever, people can characterise them however they want but its like CANON how they act/are in bed/etc and its all taken away!!! idk im probably just whining sorry 😭

(i included all my thoughts here sorry for the spam!!)

hey, thanks for stopping by!! I definitely know what you mean with regards to SQQ, but I will assure you that there are very much still plenty of dedicated "sqq mains" out there. My sphere of influence on twitter is heavily biased toward people for whom sqq is their favourite character, so maybe I'm not getting a representative sample of the fandom overall, but he's definitely a very well loved character and has more than his fair share of people who do him justice in their writing and for whom he's their primary blorbo!! I remember posting this on reddit a while back and more than half of the responses (though admittedly a small sample size) had him as their fave. So, I don't think he's without appreciation!

But with that said, I do get where you’re coming from. I’m not gonna talk about readers who take his actions in bad faith and actively dislike him (HOW??), but as you’ve said, even among people who do like him, we don’t always understand him as well as we could. Most fans do get on some level that he’s an unreliable narrator, but it’s still very common for people to take him at face value and completely miss his depth. He’s a funny little guy with amusing narration, but he’s also kind and selfless, and he’s also smart and witty, and obnoxious and annoying, and frankly pretty insensitive, and deeply, deeply traumatised—and a million other things! He has layers.

I think all popular characters in fandom will inevitably start getting boiled down to a few key traits. And as somebody who’s been writing fic for 15 years, it’s really hard not to let your own biases colour your portrayal? I absolutely do it with SQQ!! I focus on his kinder, warmer aspects and downplay his flaws, I’ll readily admit that. We all get drawn to a favourite character for a certain trait, and that trait becomes the grit around which our interpretations form. If you’re somebody that likes silly characters, you’re going to write SQQ and dial his silliness up to eleven. If you like kind characters, you’ll write SQQ with emphasis on his kindness. None of these traits are OOC in and of themselves, but if you start to only read fanfic and don’t revisit the source material, you can get lost in what’s popular and forget all the depth that actually made them interesting in the first place. And once you’ve grown attached to a particular version of the characters in your head, it can be really hard to let go of it. I don’t really know where I’m going with this, but I'll add that I think protagonists are just particularly prone to this happening because they're usually the one the audience relates to most.

Idk if any of that really addresses the stuff you were talking about. You mentioned dom top Binghe/pillow princess sqq and to be honest I’m kind of reluctant to talk about this in depth because I’ve received negative comments in the past for supposedly being anti-bottom Binghe, when all I’ve ever said on this matter is that I think it’s a bit weird to insist that “I’m scared of hurting you so I might as well let you do it” is proof that Binghe is canonically a bottom. The fact that someone found that statement so threatening to their view of the characters that they would go to my ao3 page, click on the first fic they saw that happened to feature bottom SQQ and leave their holier-than-thou anonymous opinion there is just bizarre to me.

To be honest tho, it tends to be Binghe characterisation that puts me off moreso than Shen Qingqiu. The only SQQ characterisation that truly bothers me is when people write him as willing to hurt Binghe, or willing to do anything with underage Binghe, but there is a LOT of Binghe stuff that I’m sensitive too. Idk if you read this thread of mine but like, even my friends whom I love make “Binghe stalking/imprisoning/"atticwifing" SQQ” jokes and these bother me way more than any random stranger saying SQQ would get off on spanking Binghe.

And like, it’s kind of hard because objectively, Binghe is a very dark character, so it doesn't feel particularly OOC to say he would do those things, but it's about framing. It bothers me when the emphasis is on how fucked up he is and not how hard he's trying, because it implies a level of futility that I just don’t think is there in canon. To me the beauty of him is in how much doing right by SQQ doesn't come naturally to him, but he ultimately decides to do it anyway because he wants SQQ to be happy. (I feel it needs to be said that I don't mean this in a judgy "if you write dark Binghe you don't understand him and are a bad person" way. Just that I myself can't handle that, and I strongly disagree if you think it's where Bingqiu's relationship is headed).

but idk, I've found my corner and I'm very happy here. I actually don't read fic as often as you'd think, mostly because I am sooooo picky, so I totally get where you're coming from :) but the fandom is still decently sized and very diverse, so there are always going to be at least a few people who share your feelings, if you can find them!

[sakuraoora]

Oh buddy, do I have the BEST song for your music event!~

"Almost Human" by Voltaire is a song that needs to be on every Scaramouche playlist. Unfortunately it isn't yet, but hopefully when more people begin to associate this song about the literal Devil from The Bible with BigHat McMommyIssues instead this mistake will be remedied.

If you don't want to make this too much like your last Scaramouche x reader fic, perhaps it could be strangers to friends to lovers? I just like the idea of someone looking at this random grumpy dude and trying to cheer him up and then we flash forward several weeks and now you're the therapist friend of a Fatui Harbinger and you now realize how dangerous this he is, but at this point they don't care because this guy needs another person to confide in and you've dedicated yourself to the task and you've been slowly helping Scara become a little less touche starved and you're planning on asking to hug him when you two meet up next week and oh god dammit you are in love with him, why are you just realizing this as he's traumadumping you about his mom?!?!

You don't need to do that prompt exactly if it's too much, I just put too many words into everything I write. I'll leave it up to you my dude!

Can't wait to read what you write for this prompt~! In the meantime though, have a nice day!

MCMOMMYISSUES OH MY GOD THATS PERFECT 💀

ALMOST HUMAN

It was a quiet day in Chinju Forest.

You dipped your fingers into the river nearby, and sat there as the cold water than through your fingers, enjoying the silence and the peace. You heard footsteps crunching on the grass and branches behind you, as you turned around to see a young, relatively short man standing behind you with a giant hat.

The blue flowers softly illuminated his features, and you realized he seemed unhappy at something. You stood up and took a small blue illuminated flower, and looked at him. “Are you unhappy?” you asked bluntly.

The person scoffed. “No. I’m not. Who even are you? I’ve never met someone who just walks up to someone and asks if they're happy or not.”

“Oh me? I’m just a citizen of Inazuma who just happened to run into you. I frequent this area a lot to just test my skills and calm down,” you replied with a small smile. Walking up to him you took his hand and pressed the flower into it, ignoring the fact that he was looking at you incredulously. “And you should be glad that someone actually cares enough to ask you how you’re doing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be thanking a stranger I don’t even know the name of?” Scaramouche shot back with an eye roll.

“Well, it’s [ Name ]!! So, now you know my name. Perfect, right?”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” he said, and although his wording was sharp, his tone was softer than what it was earlier. “…I’m Scaramouche, by the way.”

He looks like he needs a hug.

-----

Scaramouche looked back at the spot you talked with him a few days ago. He didn’t know why he was back here; he didn’t know why he wanted to see you again. Something about this brazen first meeting… drew him to you. He didn’t know why he wanted to talk to you, why he wanted to tell you about him.

But you did listen to him. You did, for some absurd reason… you cared about him, despite only meeting him a single time.

It felt… really nice to be cared about, after so much suffering.

Scaramouche liked this feeling. And he hated the fact that he liked it.

-----

“My mother… creator… decided to abandon me.” Scaramouche looked at the moon reflected in the river as he told you about his past. “So I decided, screw it. Who cares anymore? So I said good riddance… and that’s why I joined the fatui and became a harbinger and became a harbinger. Or, more accurately, they seeked me and I decided to join them.”

“You’re a fatui harbinger?” You said, incredulously, looking at him in shock.

“Yeah. Hate me if you’d like. I don’t care. I know I’m a terrible person. But emotion has no use to me… so do as you please.”

You stared at him, and laughed. “Honestly, for a fatui harbinger, you haven’t done anything particularly bad to me or in front of me yet. I don’t know about you, but I think you deserve a chance. I know you’ve probably done some terrible things before, but that doesn’t change how I view you.”

“...”

“HA! GUESS YOU’VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE!!”

“Although you’re this old already, you still act like a mere child. Shut up.”

You let out a clear laugh, that he could listen to forever. You took a small look at him and enveloped him in a light hug, as if you were scared of breaking him as a fragile doll. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

Scaramouche felt the warmth of your feelings and how genuine you were seeping into him, even as he stared in shock. Eventually, he let his arms wrap around you, giving into his emotions for the first time, perhaps, in his life after his abandonment.

A tear, also warm, trailed down his cheek.

Huh? Scaramouche thought in a state of confusion. I’m…. crying? Doesn’t this mean I'm also controlled by human emotions? I already made peace with this already, though…

But if I get to spend another moment in your arms, I guess I’ll allow it.

You smiled, and realized just how much you truly appreciated-- no. What you felt wasn’t appreciation. This man, although a harbinger and a puppet, felt like something you could truly care about. He was shockingly human, although he tried to cover it up with thorns and spikes.

He spoke again, but you felt emotion overflowing in his words, one that felt like it held a multitude of emotions hid behind them, just waiting to be discovered.

“Thank you. For being here.”

“You’re welcome.”

Archons, if Childe knew about this, he’d tease him to hell and back.

But Scaramouche didn’t care.

He loved you.

REBLOGS HELP MORE THAN LIKES

[goldengoddess]

proud of you - nikolai lantsov ♡

pairing: nikolai lantsov x female!reader

request: would you be willing to write about nikolai telling reader (can be she or they/them - anything works <3) that he is proud of them because he knows they are stressed being a queen and doing all the meetings and paper work and they just need the assurance?

authors note: hello lovely readers! enjoy this sweet nikolai fic (slightly short) while i think about how much i miss the grishaverse universe and characters. i didnt proof read this im sorry

warnings: stressed out reader, skipping lunch because they’re busy

no one had ever told you that being queen required so much paperwork.

if they’d told you, maybe you would have considered your beautiful husband’s marriage proposal more carefully.

as the thought slipped into your head, you couldn’t help the small smile on your face. who were you kidding? you would have said yes to marrying nikolai no matter what.

but the headache splitting your brain in half might have made you hesitate at least a second or two.

you’d been sitting at your desk for hours. and as you looked out the window now, you realize the sun has almost disappeared past the horizon. unfortunately the pile of papers to your right indicated you had another couple of hours left before you could finish.

this night was shaping up to be very very very long. like the night before. and the night before last night. and practically all nights since you’d really decided to dedicate yourself to your duties as a queen. you let out a soft groan and let your head fall onto the desk.

a soft squeak from the door behind you pushed you to lift your head. nikolai, in all his kingly fashion, walked through the door and into your office.

against your will and the circumstances, you felt yourself relax simply at his presence. you hoped that nikolai never realized just how large of an effect he has on you. that boys ego was big enough.

you turned back to the half finished letter in front of you. nikolai could come to you for change. you were his queen too after all.

the soft pressure of hands on your shoulders made you release an involuntary sigh. those magical hands. you leaned your head back to find those blue eyes already looking down at you.

“hey sweetheart. how you feeling?” even the sound of his voice, although most of the time annoyingly commenting in your ear, calmed you down.

you pouted up at him, making it clear exactly how you were feeling. the little knowing smirk on his face at the sight of the overflowing paperwork on your desk almost made you want to punch him.

he gave your shoulders a firm squeeze and then turned your chair so you were facing him head on. he kneeled down slowly to be at your eye level, taking your hands in his.

“that bad of a day huh?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in a way that reminded you of your childhood golden retriever.

you shook your head and let out a small breath. “no, not that bad. just extremely busy.” he gave you a small nod to encourage you to keep going. sucking another breath in you went on, “i just was in meetings all morning. and then zoya called me in on an emergency during lunch so i didn’t even get a chance to eat. and when that meeting went long i fell behind on paperwork, of course. so now im going to be here for hours and wake up tomorrow on about two hours of sleep.”

the confession tumbled out of you faster than you can shut your mouth. you felt nikolai give your hands two strong squeezes. you couldn’t help blinking rapidly and the few tears that slipped out of your eyes.

the usual smirk that nikolai permanently had on his face was missing, when you finally made eye contact with him. instead, you could read sympathy all of his beautiful perfect face. tugging slightly on your hands he pulls you out of your seat and towards the coach onto the other side of the room.

protesting, you pulled against his grip. “no nikolai i’ve gotta work. there’s so much to do i-”

“sh sh sh. nope i don’t wanna hear another sound out of you. just sit down with me for a second.”

knowing that there was no reasoning with him, you allowed him to sit you down on the sofa, right beside him. well more like slightly on top of him. your leg on top of his, his hands in yours, shoulders pressing into each other.

“my love,” he started, “you have been working yourself to death.”

you let out a sarcastic laugh, “you’re telling me?”

one side of his lips quirked upwards which caused the same reaction on your own face.

“you’ve been working so hard. you’re honestly putting me to shame. people in the palace are going to start realizing you’re doing more work for ravka than i am.”

you chuckled as he left a small kiss on your shoulder. “and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

he shook his head, smiling towards you. “no, we would not. you’d ruin the whole reputation that i’ve got going.”

he took a deep breath. one extra kiss on your shoulder. “but more important than my fragile ego and reputation, is the dedication you have to this country, the crown, to me. you’re an example. you put about a million percent into everything you do and i can’t even fathom how you’re still standing after the day you’ve had.” one more kiss, closer to your neck this time.

“so i really mean it when i say to you: i am so incredibly proud of you. the most proud. you are a role model for so many people. including me. all the meeting and paper work and running around getting everything done. so proud of you sweetheart.” the last phrase was whispered into your shoulder, like a confession.

at his words, the few small tears turned into larger more sob like tears. nikolai didn’t even hesitate to pull you into his chest. and he held you and kissed your forehead and though you weren’t sure you swore he was mumbling “so proud of you” over and over into your hair.

“i really,” you started and then stopped to hiccup, “i really needed to hear that.”

“we’ll it was my pleasure to be able to say it to you my sweet queen.” you chucked. and if you could save that laugh in a locket and chain it your neck, you would.

“i love you so much” you whispered to him, paying back his earlier kisses with your own on his neck.

“and i love you my hardworking wife. and once again, im so proud of you.” he kissed your forehead before saying:

“there’s no one i’d rather have ruling by my side.”

taglist ;

@vintagebitc @obiwansjedi

@thegirlwiththeimpala @hybrid-in-progress @mrs-brekker15

@mrsbrekkers @simplyluvzuko @ode-to-joy @gallysonegoodlung @sixofshadowandbone @castielcouldbeasecretdentist @amourslover @caaarstairs @the-jess-life @xsamsharons @heavenlymidnights @tinyfwoggie @the-abyss-gazed-back @subjecta13-thefangirl @ughgclden @brekker-andhiswraith @ilovemarvelanne1 @lostinketterdam @anything-forourmoony @treasureofmy-heart @buckystarlight @deardiarystuff @bookishcrows @kazsimp @that-one-little-soybean @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot

[kiatheinsomniac]

YOU ADDED STARDEW VALLEY LET'S GOOOOO!!! Oh that's exciting!!!!

I wanna request a one shot where the farmer has been in Pelican Town for a while now and Elliot is the one who moves in! He goes to introduce himself to the farmer, maybe request some materials he needs for the cabin after Robin recommend he goes ask? IDK I JUST WANT TO SEE HOW YOU WRITE ELLIOTT

notes: my first SDV fic!! Elliott has really captured my heart in this game. As much as I also Abi, Sebastian, Olivia (SDVE) and Sophia (SDVE), Elliott is just my farmer's soulmate sorry not sorry.

pairing: Elliott x Reader

word count: 0.9k

☾ ⋆ﾟ  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

Pomegranate jam

Elliott paused in front of the gate to read the sign: ‘Welcome to Sundew Farm!’ It said, burned into the wood in an elegant but easily legible script. He was new to Pelican Town and his cabin on the beach, charming as it was, was in need of a few repairs by the local carpenter Robin. Her conditions for making such repairs were a certain price and some supplies. Being new, Elliott was in need of some help in gathering the wood that Robin demanded and she had pointed him towards this farm for the assistance of the local farmer who was known to take up small tasks for small prices in town. She liked to keep busy, Robin had told him. 

He pushed open the gate, politely closing it behind him before he wandered into the farm. There were vegetable patches and flower gardens spread around with sprinklers in them, a comfortable looking home, a small pond by the entrance and what looked to be a larger one just a bit south. There were chickens in a pen around a coop and a barn beside it where animals grazed in a separate pen as well as a greenhouse whose glass walls caught the sunlight. He could also see a patch of land dedicated to hay by a windmill. It would seem that you truly did like to keep busy. 

“Hello?!” He called, looking around at the accomplished farm but finding it devoid of a farmer. He made his way towards the house, wondering if you would even be there, before the door flew open and you were standing there in a pair of overalls and well-worn boots, some flur smeared on the upper sleeve of your shirt. 

“Oh, hello.” You greeted him in a friendly manner, “You must be that new guy Robin mentioned! How can I help?” 

“Yes, I’m Elliott, pleased to meet you.” He gave a bow of his head and reached his hand out. You went to shake that hand but, instead, he gently took your hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles with a charming smile. Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise for a moment. Not only did this man dress like he had just walked out of an Austen novel, he seemed to act as such too. 

“I’m Y/n.” You exchanged your name. 

“It was Robin who sent me here, actually. She said that you would be able to gather some wood for me. I need it to give to her so that she can fix up my cabin.” Your face seemed to light up at this. 

“Oh! Of course I can! You know, I just put some bread rolls out to cool so we can go now. If you’d like to get to know the town a little better, you can come with me and get a look around Cindersap Forest.” You suggested, stepping outside of your house and locking the door behind you with a set of keys. 

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” He smiled and you went over to your shed to collect your axe before putting yourself on the path that headed down south. As you went, you pointed out Leah’s house and Marnie’s ranch to him as well as the Wizard’s Tower. 

While you chopped down trees into wood, you asked Elliott to tell you about why he chose Pelican Town. He was an aspiring writer and wanted to get out of the city. He loved the sea and the beach and said that there was something about the sound of the waves lapping against the shore that just brought him the peace he needed to work on his book. You told him all about your cluttered bookshelf at home and how you’d love to beta read for him some time or discuss some ideas with him should he ever hit a bout of writer’s block. 

Hours passed like minutes and soon the two of you were heading back to the farm with all the wood necessary to give to Robin for the repairs to the cabin and then some. Elliott paid you at your front door and you invited him in for some tea. Everyone knew everyone in Pelican Town and you wanted him to feel welcome, wanted him to feel like he had at least one friend already and he wasn’t alone in this new place. 

You put the kettle on to make some tea, letting Elliott choose which blend you would have from the ones that you had either bought from Pierre, been given by Caroline or made yourself. He ended up going for the English Breakfast that you had bought from Pierre’s. You got to slicing the bread rolls in half and spreading some butter onto them before opening the fridge to find a suitable jam. 

“Hey, which jam would you like? I made them all myself. There’s apricot, blackberry, pomegranate-”

“Pomegranate would be wonderful!” He interjected eagerly, “It’s my favourite fruit.” That put a smile on your face as you set it down on the table along with the tea. 

“Well aren’t you lucky? I have a pomegranate tree in the greenhouse. I’ll have to remember to bring you one when I stop by to see Robin’s work on your cabin if you’d allow me.” You tucked your chair into the table as you reached for your tea cup while Elliott spread some jam onto his bread. 

“Oh, I’d love for you to drop by some time.” He smiled and it warmed your heart a little to know that this stranger was already becoming a friend and you had done your part to make sure that he felt welcome in town. Perhaps this could be the beginning of a very beautiful friendship. 

☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee? ✧⋆.・゜Want to be tagged?

[ggukkiereads]

Hello!! Just a few days ago I stumble upon your blog and I'm wondering if you have some recommendations for Hybrid AUs, much appreciated if it is an OT7 and completed, but if so I will still be so thankful. (I just need some cure from the stress that modules brings) Thank You in Advance (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

🌷 Hello! welcome to my mini fic-reading land. I’ve actually received asks for Hybrid AUs (I pinned the requests in the navi) but I just have a very messy draft.

But to help you with your stress, I think I can share a few of my ongoing reads (sorry they won’t be complete but they’re OT7). But, I added completed ones I could remember too (●'◡'●)

*note: will edit this later and organize this per member - maybe add other fics I’ll remember*

Fic Recs | BTS Hybrid AUs

→ A Place Called Home @agustdakasuga -  OT7 x Reader

series [27/27] | 88k | Hybrid AU, Poly AU, Soulmate AU, Romance Humor | Fluff

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

→  If I Can Never Give You Peace @candlewaxandp0lar0ids - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 17.6k+ | Mafia AU, Enemies to Lovers | A (so far)

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and her father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

🌷ggukkienote: I am so hooked on this (because I am a sucker for Mafia AUs too). This is such a great story and the OC is really different from the usual OCs. Very interesting.

→  Eunoia @wishesunderthestars -  OT7 x Reader

series [15/?] | 100k+ (I just assumed this, masterpost doesn’t have wc but it’s 6k per chapter or more?) | Director!Reader, hurt/comfort | fluff, eventual smut

You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job. You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

→  Restitution @cloudteawrites - OT7 x Reader

series [7/?] | 48k+ | slow burn, poly, mystery, romance

when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

→ Lacuna @barbika1508 - Jungkook x Reader

series [42/42] | 324.3k | Hybrid AU, check for TW | Fluff, Angst, Smut

Lacuna - (n.) a blank space, a missing part

Y/N just wanted to go back home, to enjoy her peace and quiet away from problems and people. But typically, her luck strikes as she stumbles upon a horrific scene of two guys mistreating an already beaten down hybrid. Will she take matters into her own hands and help him? Or let someone else help along the way???

🌷 This is on AO3 and I got a recent ask about author’s tumblr.  So if you prefer AO3 you can check their profile

→ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne- OT7 x Reader

series [12/?] | 88k+ | Hybrid AU, fluff, angst, smut |

In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

🌷 This is on AO3. I don’t normally reco AO3 since my blog is focused on tumblr fics but someone sent an ask about this so I’m including it

→ Inferiority Complex @starlightauroras-writes - Jimin x Reader

series [10/?] | 88k+ | political themes, themes of abuse (hybrids) | A, S

You had never liked hybrids. You disagreed with their very existence, and you never wanted to have anything to do with them. And then one day, you discovered a hybrid who was more scared of you than you were of him, and everything changed as you realised you were the only hope he had…

→ Sanctuary @chimchimsauce - Jimin x Reader

series [16/16] | 20k |  Wolf Hybrid!Jimin, Barista!OC, feat sanctuary staff Taehyung, hurt/comfort | F, A

YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she's been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary's Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

→  Summer Nights @marginalmadness - Jungkook x Reader

series [4/4] | 23k | Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance | F, S

A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

→  Risk it All @/httpjeon - Jungkook x Reader

series [5/5] | 8.3k  | hybrid au, alpha wolf!jungkook | A, F, S

ripped from your family, you find yourself in a warehouse filled with predators. just your luck, you’re right across from a caged alpha wolf.

🌷 (I linked Chapter 5 because for some reason others couldn’t find this chapter so they thought it’s still incomplete)

→  Outro Love is Not Over @kiirokero - Hoseok x Reader

series [12/?] |  Daycare Teacher!Hoseok x Single Mom!Reader

You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho.  But you’re a human.  You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can.  So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

→  It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - TaeKook x Reader

two shot [2/2] | 11k | dom/sub themes, heat cycles | S

What’s better than one dogboy lover? Two dogboy lovers. But when Tae and Jungkook seem unusually clingy, it can only mean one thing. That time of the month has snuck up on you and your dogboy lovers do not want to share.

🌷 Also try their other Jungkook hybrid series Out of the Blue

→  Peculiar Park @daydreamindollie -  OT7 x Reader

series [9/?] | 38k+ | imagines, slice of life | Writer!Reader, Psychologist!Reader, imagines | fluff

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist who takes in seven hybrids on one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

→ Yeouiju @nomseok - Namjoon x Reader

one shot | 33.7k | Mythical AU, Hybrid AU (if you squint), suspense | A, F, S

you find an ancient stone in the middle of the mountains and bring it home with you, oblivious to the consequences of taking a dragon’s yeouiju.

→ Beautiful Stranger @/nomseok - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 19k | circus AU | A, S, F

your dream is to take care of animals for the rest of your life in the big city, making sure that they’re cared for. but you stumble upon a malnourished, rare tiger in your local circus, and you can’t help but want to take care of him.

→ Evolution of You and I @readyplayerhobi - Jimin x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | kind of epistolary (letters), chat, childhood friends | F

For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

→  Fish are Friends @httpjeon - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | seahorse hybrid!taehyung | A, S, F

after moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore…only he isn’t quite human.

🌷 you know seahorses mate for life and it’s the male that gets pregnant? Interesting huh

→  Pink Panther @gimmesumsuga - Seokjin x Reader

one shot | 13k | boss-employee | F, S

The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are.

→  Ragdoll @ausblack - Jimin x Reader

series [17/17] | Hybrid AU, College AU | F, A

As you were studying to obtain your medical & veterinary degree, your professor came up with the idea of organizing an internship - where you found yourself side by side with a sick hybrid that needed nothing other that complete care.

→  Jagged + Catnap  @opaljm - Jimin x Reader

one shot + sequel | 18k |  jaguar/black panther!jimin, sand dune cat!reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, established relationship (sequel)| S, F, slight A

The pretty little sand cat hybrid Jimin has been in love with for the past year experiences her first heat and Jimin would love nothing more than to be the one to guide her through it and breed her with his kittens.

🌷 there’s also a possible spin-off for Taehyung (Eye of the Tiger)

→  Owner @jessikahathaway - Jungkook x Reader

series [6/?] | 17.4k | Fake Dating AU, Hybrid AU, based on Kimi Wa Petto (Japanese anime) | F, S, A

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

→ Loving Him Was Red + Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 12.8k+ | enemies to lovers, childhood friends (sorta), college au, jock!jungkook, unrequited love (for OC) | S, F, A

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

I would like to recommend the catalog of these writers:

@ditttiii - so I realize I’m following them on AO3 when I realized the fics looked familiar 🤭. They have an ongoing series called Enchanted to Meet You which you might want to check out if you like Soulmate AUs too! I recently reblogged a Jungkook two-shot comfort fic (hybrid au too) so I recommend going through their masterlist!

@aroseforyoongi - who I discovered because of Gossamer (KTH). It was completed but I think it’s up for re-write/re-post? You can try the others:

Navy Blue - Jungkook [completed]

Forever Yours - Yoongi [one shot, prequel to Navy Blue]

Let Me Love You- Jungkook [one shot]

@magicalsalamander - another favorite author of mine I just feel like I’m reading a great tale every time I start on a series or one shot. They have great fics with supernatural themes too

Rabbit on the Moon - Jungkook | if you’re in the mood for police officer Jungkook [6/6]

The Act of Persuasion - Seokjin | if you are in the mood for Single Dad AU x Arranged Marriage too [one shot]

Firefly that Guards the Fox - Taehyung | if you are in the mood for mystery [11/12 - just epilogue left]

Kitten’s Little Flame - Yoongi | if you like BF to Lovers between dragon and a cat [6/6]

There’s more so please check their Masterlist

@hollyhomburg - I just love Of Fire and Love (hello dragon!yoongi and baby!jungkook? 🥺) But you can check:

their masterlist of all their hybrid fics

Dance to This series which I’ve added to fic recs based on an ask about stories that include members/readers with disability.

Don’t care if it Hurts - Jimin | this is probably my favorite (again I’m a sucker for Mafia AUs) , guard dog hybrid!jimin [12/13, just epilogue]

@angelicyoongie - I got hooked after reading their stories on AO3 but they have tumblr too! Check their masterlist for ongoing hybrid fic (Abundance - OT7)  but these are completed ones:

Desolate - Yoongi, grumypy cat hybrid [14/14]

Out of the Woods - Namjoon, wolf hybrid, strangers to lovers [3/3]

@worldwidebt7 - if you like webtoons! I read parts of Jungkook’s webtoon and I think currently we’re on Yoongi’s story. Access it here

@jincherie - One of the first hybrid fics I remember encountering is Inheritance (MYG). Other fics:

Perihelion - Hoseok, college, roommate, enemies [2/?]

Butterfingers - Namjoon, teacher au, this is cuuuute READ IT if you’re looking for something fluffy [one shot]

4 o’ clock - Taehyung, single dad au (I included this in the singel dad fic recs too) [3/?]

Under the Bridge - Jungkook, found jungkook under the bridge [one shot]

@whitesparrows97 - a writer I discovered because of a Yoongi soulmate fic but I found that they also have other hybrid fics:

Cat’s Cradle - Yoongi, bestfriend [5/5]

Underdog - Taehyung, shifter, brought home what she thought a stray dog [5/5]

@foxymoxynoona - and what would my reco be without foxymoxy? So they have tumblr but their works are on AO3. I’ve listed their current works here but I didn’t include their completed works which are must-reads:

Sugar Fairy - Jungkook, mating, adopted hybrids [48/48]

A Sea of Indigo - Jungkook, ex-fighter [48/48] ⭐⭐⭐

@therealmintedmango - They have a whole masterlist of their hybrid!au fics. I recently finished Kingdom Come and I always remember Jimin from King (for some reason)

@joonbird - check their Zodiac Hybrid Masterlist of one shot per member

There are more (usually one shot per member) but I’ll probably put them in another Fic Rec List for Hybrid AUs. Sorry this list is kind of all over the place (not even organized per member 🤭). But good luck with your modules and I hope these help!

(❁´◡`❁)

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Crescent (1)

A/N: Hey, you lovely people! It has taken a while for me to post it, but here goes the first chapter of the series. Some of you may have seen the INDEX that I’ve already prepared, and the summary included in it. If not, make sure to check that out!:D As a footnote, I also wanted to thank y’all for welcoming me to the Peaky Blinders community so warmly, you are the best, it’s so nice to be here with y’all;) One of the people who strongly encouraged and inspired me to start writing for the fandom is our lovely @mrsalwayswrite​, to whom I also dedicate this series (plus, that's a form of contribution to her 1k milestone, it’s wild, she deserves it so much). 

Against my posting schedule, which is totally all over the place, I really hope to start posting more regularly. BUT, enough of the ramble, sorry for the long intro. Enjoy:)

Word Count: 6.8k (ooops!)

IMPORTANT WARNING!: This fic contains a lot of dark elements and I’d regard it as pretty adultish. In every chapter, I’ll try to address the warning list but if you don’t feel like that’s what you are into, consider whether you really want to read. Should you need any more explicit clarification about this series, just message me! I’ll be happy to elaborate:D

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of alcohol, crudeness, shameless and yummy drama, insights into Tommy’s sensitive nature (probably the most bizarre one), and a rape attempt??

______________

They both were snuggling on the sofa, Y/N sitting with her legs wrapped around Tommy’s torso while he was settled in her embosom, an old French book in his hands, and he was reading out loud. Comfortable as she had already been, Y/N felt even more comfort prickling in her chest as Tommy’s smooth lilt echoed in her ears, making her eyes flutter in response to the repose she was experiencing.

None of the words read by Tommy did she understand. After all, she wasn’t the one who ever had had anything to do with French culture, and she was clinging to that premise rather resolutely. The mere fact stated, however, how much of a good reader Tommy was when he pronounced all of the syllables with such a passion and sublimity, with his perfect little accent and soothing voice. When he utterly surrendered to every single word of the book, ardently translating each one of them into the scenery of images played out in his head.

And his enthusiasm made her only fall for him even more.

When Y/N closed her eyes, try as might to, accepting the natural urge to give in to the melody of Tommy’s voice, he finally stopped reading and plonked the book on a table opposite the sofa. His breathing was steady and lulling, the chest against her leg with its heart drumming in the regular heartbeats. It all contributed to Y/N’s peace of mind, and little did she care for the bitter weather outside nor the flimsy house’s doors which prevented it from coming in.

“Why did you stop reading?” Y/N finally asked, rendering Tommy’s gaze rivet on to her rather than the obscure snowscape out of the window.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he said simply, giving her a small smile and then planting a kiss on her calve. Although Y/N and Tommy had been married for over two years now, it always made Y/N partly flustered when he did those little gestures of affection, causing her to blush like mad. Tommy had always teased her for that; whenever they had been out in public, even a chaste peck on a cheek could make her somehow so affectionately coy that it had never failed to make Tommy smile.

“No,” Y/N said, but her eyelids were indicating otherwise, feeling their rocketing weight on her eyes. She forced herself to open them at least half a fraction, and Tommy was already looking at her. “I like to listen to you read. It’s calming.”

It really drove Y/N crazy, the intensity of his gaze on her. Never had she admitted that but she wasn’t the one to thrust herself into the limelight, yet with Tommy, it was different - it was as if she was the only person in the world. She had never decided whether it bothered her or made her feel special.

When Tommy still remained silent, Y/N continued. “What’s the book about anyways?”

A corner of Tommy’s lip lifted as he spoke. “It’s about a princess who, against her father’s will, comes late at night by the lake to join the man of her life in a tryst. The man is a knight in her kingdom, and when the king finds out about her daughter’s romance, he sends the knight off to exile.”

“Oh, that’s tragic!” Y/N pouted, her eyes instantly filling with sympathy. The light in the lantern beside the sofa suddenly started flickering in irregular spurts of light, and Y/N had to tap it three times to mend it back to its normal state. It nicely illuminated Tommy’s features as he returned his gaze back to the window where now snowflakes were performing their little dance to the rhythm of whizzing frigid wind. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have suspected that would be your book choice.”

He frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Y/N started, gentle giggles erupting from her mouth. “You are not the biggest romantic that I’ve known.”

What she had originally dubbed as slight indignation by her words was actually an attempt to retort to her with an amounting dose of banter. “What would make you think that?” Tommy asked deliberately, trying to act offended, but his smirk was betraying him. He swiftly changed position to the sitting one, so now his back was against the backrest of the couch, his gaze intensely fixed on Y/N’s posture while she was suiting herself to the cross-legged position.

“You know what I mean.” She glanced at him knowingly.

“I don’t. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.

Exhaling dramatically and shaking his head, he pressed on. “Well, then, you leave me with no other option...” And then he edged closer to her and, without any proceeding warning, attacked her with the cascade of tickles, his hands quickly finding their way over her stomach and, with the two-year experience, careering across the most tickle-sensitive spots on her body. Y/N started laughing uncontrollably, little begs to cease the action escaping her mouth.

Every one of his touches, those smooth and itching touches, made her feel as if she was touched by a whole load of butterflies. His hands were traveling everywhere: her tummy, under her chin and armpits... That only increased the laughter in her throat and, soon enough, tears started rolling down her cheeks. Trying to defend herself, Y/N flailed her arms all over the place, but that only seemed to encourage Tommy even more.

“Stop!” she shrieked ultimately, and at once, he actually listened to her but not before peppering her with the last couple of tickles and a loving smooch on the forehead. Subconsciously, Y/N began neatening her impinged garments and trying to smooth down her - as for now - tousled hair while Tommy sat back on his spot and chuckled lightly under his breath. “You’re really horrible, you know that?”

His eyebrows raised the look of supreme innocence on his face. “Oh, but you love me for that, don’t you?”

“Sometimes I doubt,” she said, but a denouncing smile sprung on her lips which she tried to hide to no avail. He was already grinning at her.

“How about...” He took another dramatic pause there. “I read you another chapter of the book, and then you decide about the way you feel?”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to grin. “Let’s give it a shot.”

In moments, they were pressed to each other again, this time, however, he was the one cradling her between his legs. His arms reached around her sides to elevate her a little bit so that her head could conveniently rest on his chest while plucking the book from the table, and began flipping through the pages to find the latest chapter. So tranquil in that state, Y/N utterly gave in to the moment when Tommy’s voice, a low murmur next to her ear, began reading aloud again, his head hovering just over her shoulder.

“La fille n'était pas dupe des paroles du roi. Bien que dévouée à sa famille, il y avait une certaine partie d'elle...”

Tommy was warm and comfortable, and being with him like that while he read her the book with his perfect, husky voice, her body enfolded in his snuggly embrace, was nothing short of incredible. At once, Y/N’s eyelids started to droop, heard the words weaving pleasantly in and out of her consciousness, and she leaned her head back against his chest, beginning to fade away.

Bzzzz... Bzzz... Bzzzz...

The scenery started changing rapidly: the faces turned into artistic blurs so that now there was only a mere outline of silhouettes visible. The sunken holes in the facelessness, which were probably the equivalent of mouths, mumbled some unintelligible babble in overexcited, high-pitched tones.

Bzzzz... Bzzzz.... Bzzzz....

No longer was Tommy standing in the living room but in the place that was detached from any kind of comparison because it was basically a white, vast void with no ground or neither any kind of abyss. The light was becoming more and more bright, and eventually temporarily blinded Tommy, who closed his eyes now, not really capable of deducing what was happening.

Bzzz... Bzzz... Bzzz...

Suddenly, the scenery wasn’t so foreign anymore; when Tommy finally decided to risk it all and open his eyes, he found himself tangled in the floral-scented sheets, sweat dotting his forehead, and panting in half-fear, half-oblivion. The wind-up alarm clock was going on in an annoying buzzing, and it took Tommy one harsh thump on a small button on the top of the device to turn it off, ceasing sound in the bedroom and instead permeating it with silence.

What the fuck was that?

Was that all a dream before or, perhaps, was he dreaming right now?

Tommy’s heart was palpitating loudly against his rib cage, head pounding, and he, still in awe, looked around his surroundings and inspected the area he was in right now. Luckily, he was alone, and everything seemed to be the same way he had remembered it last time.

When he had returned to his house after the snobbish banquet he had been obliged to attend, without any more power gathered in him, he had thrown himself on the comfortable mattress in his bedroom and with that, he had drifted asleep, not even taking his smart tuxedo off of him and barely affording to cast off his oxfords. It had been a celebration organized by Oswald Mosley himself, and if it hadn’t been for that fact, Tommy probably wouldn’t have considered coming at all.

Yes, he remembered everything vividly now: the fake diplomatically smiley faces, elegant attire, a surfeit of foods and champagne, strict atmosphere hovering in the air... He remembered that he had shaken hands on some kind of deal inaugurated by Mosley; he couldn’t recall what it had concerned, however, maybe because of the amount of whiskey he had drunk. He remembered that Arthur had got into some intensive grapple with the other guest that night and reached such a crux when both had had to be separated from one another. He remembered the big-ass, stuck-up toast raised by Mosley’s brother, Edward, who had nettled him so much that, after that, he had had to get some fresh air to calm himself down.

Everything appeared to make sense now. Except for one thing - with all of the things that cropped up yesterday, how on earth did he end up dreaming about his secretary, Y/N?

Truth to be told, it had been rather a recurring occurrence because he had been having a similar series of dreams for the last month. They had never been the same, however - every night, it was always him and Y/N, every time in different scenery. Either some intimate moments of cuddling, kissing, and spooning in bed; or daily-life moments like cooking together or taking a stroll. What seemed to be a bizarre fact was that they were always one-on-one, without any other people appearing on the horizon.

And Tommy, very fervently actually, had tried to seek a reason, a probable explanation for those dreams.

However, to no use...

Sure, Y/N  was an attractive woman, and there was no point denying it. But as for him, he had never had any other but professional feelings for her, and he hoped to keep it that way. And when he had employed her, he had made it very lucid that there was nothing but business standing between their relationship.

Yet still, a very nagging part of him, an annoying one too, made him somehow think that whatever had been transpiring could not be happening only in his head. A lingering feeling whispered next to his ear, tacitly, that all of those moments were far too real to be just a flight of fantasy.

When Y/N beamed, it was as if the whole room lightened up with her glow and, in those moments, it was the only thing he would want to watch. When she spoke, it was as if the sweet melody was tickling his ears. When he would play the music on the old gramophone, she rhythmically swung her hips from one to another side, and he could be her most avid spectator.

Or maybe he was a spectator? He was quite a cogitation for him if being honest. In dreams or whatever resembling them that was, he was placed in a strange, abstruse position because he actually wasn’t the one with the leading role in the scenery; it was almost more like he was observing the scene between two people, one so strikingly identical to him. And Tommy could do nothing but be a passive participant in the gnomic show that was playing out before his eyes.

That was just... inexplicably complicated to Tommy.

Another thing that startled him too was the place the couple was dwelling at - his old, dilapidated house in Birmingham, the area he would never wish to return to. The walls were drab, and the overall air was muggy and abominably icky; the only things that seemed to coat the unpleasant interior of the house were some female touches in an attempt to veil funguses or crud with some decorative details, like flamboyant curtains or a flowerpot on a tarnish mantelpiece.  

Tommy’s actual house, on the other side, was the exact opposite. After spending many years of his childhood and adolescence in penury as his mother had strived to earn a single penny whereas his father had abandoned the family for a bimbo, he had promised himself that he would put any effort to elevate himself and, perhaps, even move out of the Birmingham area.

And so he did. He resided in a beautiful, vast mansion now and although it had caused some detriments on his health, and maybe he could deem a workaholic to some, at the end of the day, he was still grateful that he could pull himself out of disdain and impertinent he had been treated with throughout his life.

A knock came on the door and, instantaneously, jerked Tommy out of his contemplation.

“Come in.”

A maid treaded into the bedroom, and instantly, Tommy registered a wary look on her face. “Mr. Shelby,” she started. “Arthur and John are waiting in the car downstairs and anticipating your presence. They mentioned something about horse races.”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How could he have forgotten?

Today, he was supposed to come with his brothers to one of the most important horse races in this season, during which he would be trying to bid on one of the most talented mares in the entire territory of England. The range of horses during the race had been presented merely a week ago, and it was crucial for Tommy to buy out the captivating mare he had been attempting to acquire for years.

“Tell them I’ll be down in five minutes,” he instructed with what could seem a composed face, except he was panicking inside. In the mental calculation, he noted, he still had to fetch the ample sum of money from his office, change his garments to more appropriate ones, and make his way to the opposite side of the mansion.

Great...

“Yes, Mr.Shelby.” Mary nodded to his directions and walked stiffly out of the room.

As soon as the doors behind her closed, Tommy sprinted out of the bed and went over to the wardrobe where he picked up random clothes and put them on. It’s not like he cared for such trivial matters like appearance anyway. His lifestyle and the rush he was living in forced him to always go with the plain choices - in this case, a three-piece, overcoat, and a newsboy cap.

Another destination was the office, which was luckily located in the same corridor, basically a beeline between one room and another. He darted to the place, swinging oak doors ajar, and quickly approaching the desk drawer where the viridian envelope with plentiful cash was already prepared. Taking it out and scattering other papers all over the space, he didn’t pay any thought to clean the mess he had left behind as he was already racing to the main entrance of the mansion.

He peeked at his pocket watch - 8.32 a.m. How could have he overslept?

The alarm clock had woken him up, yet he had completely failed a job of setting it up at the earlier hour. The races were starting sharp at ten o’clock, and a way from here to Worcester took around two hours in the right weather conditions. That, fortunately, was the only thing that was on his side today - the streams of the sun penetrated the light blue sky, spreading the warmth around, and no signs of forthcoming squall appeared whatsoever within the vision.

It was 8.35 when Tommy left the threshold of his house and walked onto the front yard, exactly where the polished Bentley was parked with two brothers waiting inside of it. One of the front seats was vacant, presumably reserved for him, and he willingly accepted the non-verbal invitation.

When he finally occupied the leather-covered seat, two questioning glances were sent in his direction.

“You alrigh’, Tom boy?” asked Arthur, who was currently inhabiting the driver’s seat.

Tommy looked at him from the corner of his eye, ripples on his forehead. “Yeah, why?”

“’Cuz your never late, Tom.” It was John now who chimed into the conversation. He was holding on to the headrests of both front seats, apparently trying to show off his presence at the most by taking up some personal space.

“It’s alright, just overslept,” Tommy replied, shrugging. Reaching to his inner pocket, he examined his pocket clock again - 8.38. To busy himself with something and divert the attention of his brothers, he began searching for a stash of cigarettes and matches to light one up. Once he found it, he ignited a fag whereas Arthur turned on the engine and drove off to the main road.

“Tough night, huh?” After one minute’s silence John, who was still imposing himself to the forepart of the car, pressed on. “Bet yesterday’s beano upset ya a lot, aya? Mosley gave you a har’ time, for sure, with all of his codswallop about-”

“That’s enough, John,” said Arthur, warily, cutting in right before his brother could say something that would rotten the two-hour drive between the three of them. With a honed sense for deducing people’s attitudes about particular subjects, Arthur had learned just right when to cease talking about sensitive topics. It was the fact, however, that yesterday hadn’t been the most pleasant night of their lives; Mosley who apparently had thought himself superior to others had talked down Tommy during the entire banquet and denigrated his ideas every time he had spoken. Tommy’s unalterable response while receiving a cold shoulder was always a diplomatic silence, but that didn’t mean the occurrence hadn’t left him nettled afterward.

Arthur looked over at Tommy for a brief second, before turning his gaze back at the road. He let out a little sniffle and then stated matter-of-factly. “Y/N’ll be meeting us in front of the stables.”

Confused, Tommy frowned slightly. “What would she be doing there?”

“We thought we would invite her over, ya know, to take a peek before signing the documents. Ya know, as a precaution.”

“And you thought I wouldn’t manage to read on my own?” Tommy asked, suddenly somehow out of kilter. The cigarette was still in between his teeth, but he still managed to purse lips in dissatisfaction.

Arthur sighed. “Of course, you would, Tom. But Y/N, a clever gal she is... She can help us. And besides, she offered to come herself. Wanted to see one of the races. Has never been to one before.”

Tommy said nothing more and preferred to focus on the vista before him: they were driving through the middle of fields, the line-up of buildings stretching in the far by one side. It was a spring morning, so the sun was raising just now, but still, a warm breeze was accompanying them while they sped on the asphalt road. At the bottom of the road was an explosion of yellow and green which, landlocked, was surrounded by nothing but glistening trees and multicolored sky.

Sunrises.

They always made Tommy feel oddly sentimental as they reminded him of times before he had been sent off to the War.

And as he watched the sight sprawling before him, he opened a window, threw a stub of the cigarette, and ceased the only activity he could busy himself with for the rest of the ride. The rattling Bentley devoured the miles with stoic competence, but the journey had begun to seem interminably long and, involuntarily, searched back to the recollections of the morning’s conundrum - what did Y/N really mean to him, and how did their relationship evolve over the course of years?

Though he knew that the thought shouldn’t have even crossed his mind, Tommy wondered what would have happened if their relationship was elevated to a different level. Would that transmute his life to something he would feel comfortable with, or would that be too big of a load to handle? After all, it’d been six years since Grace had perished, and ever since, he hadn’t felt a woman’s touch on his skin throughout that time...

Or maybe, was it a commitment she wouldn’t want to put up with? There were always some undertones implying that, perhaps, there were some sparks kindled between the two of them. Y/N was self-sufficient, erudite, and easy to talk to, and he enjoyed having an occasional chit-chat with her during some spare moments. Although they never crossed the line of professionalism, circumscribing the topics of conversation to a pure employee-employer level; when she would happen to mention something about her personal life, he would be always eager to hear more. But he would never dare to inquire because it seemed to be a slippery road.

At the same time, Tommy was skeptical about entwining Y/N into his life - if he should consider such a possibility - which carried a lot of danger in it. Even so, she had signed up for a secretary position, which was risky itself, joining the Shelby family was a new dimension of jeopardy. And the simple thought of losing Y/N, the similar way he had lost Grace, was just unbearable.

While the robust debate transpired in Tommy’s head, Arthur was fervently pressing the pedal, accelerating, as the other car attempted to overtake their jet-black Bentley; John decided to give up on the thought troubling the Front-seat and, instead, was already drooling in the rear of the car, his head lolling in every direction.

“That’s right, you little nutter...” Arthur muttered under his breath, flipping the other driver off as he was passing him, the driver, gawking, startled by the obscenity. Despite that Arthur was the bigger brother, he could never resist the flash of temper.

Tommy ignored the urge of pulling another fag out as his eyelids started to droop rather dangerously. He had slept only two hours, after all, which was mainly due to the buzz and adrenaline left after the banquet.

‘One nap,’ he told himself. ‘One nap won’t kill anybody.’

XOXOXOXOX

“Get up, get up, mate.” A poke with a slight jiggle jerked Tommy out of his slumber.

Initially nonplussed, he started blinking rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the dazzling light of the day. After a moment’s haze, things finally got more into distinctive shapes, and now he knew that it was John’s voice that woke him up as he was standing in front of him, lining with his forearm on the car.

“You okay?” asked John, the second time this day. His head was bowed slightly so that it was lined up with Tommy’s, his foul breath huffing unpleasantly in Tommy’s face.

“Alright, yeah.”

Straightening himself up and mending his attire to make it look less wrinkled, Tommy took out a fag and lit it up as his old habit suggested. He took a swing with his long legs and got out of the car, where he encountered a light breeze brushing against his face. The fag was already in between his teeth, a gray string of smoke rising from the end of it while Tommy was examining the hour on his gold-plated pocket watch - 9.54.

They made it. Arthur had apparently completed a good job at chasing time.

Three of them - Arthur, Tommy, and John - were now halted in front of the stables that abutted a white, enormous tent where the whole event was about to take place. The neighs and nickers were erupting from stalls, horses in the progress of preparation before the luxurious show-off.

“Hello, boys,” the voice from the back said. Turning around, Tommy beheld the woman that had been trespassing his thoughts, and he suddenly felt as if he was dragged back to the hinterland of his dreams.

Y/N was smiling sweetly at each one of them, looking particularly radiant today. A thin auburn coat was sprawling around her shoulders, vaguely muddy galoshes pulled on her feet, and a dark Breton arranged in harmony with her low, tight ponytail. She was clutching a small purse in her hands.

“’Morning,” Tommy replied, accompanied by his brothers in the background. He sent her a meager smile in response to her grin.

In mere seconds, they began heading towards the main entrance of the tent where every person was gathering and hastily taking the available seats in the front row before all of them were occupied. One man deliberately bumped into some woman, who was just about to sit, to flump on a seat himself; they got into a rather vigorous quarrel.

“So how was yesterday at Mosley’s?” A soft voice rang up in Tommy’s ears again. He and Y/N were walking arm-to-arm, and from this proximity, Tommy could get a nice whiff of her perfume - a floral note with something he couldn’t quite recognize. Perhaps, vanilla?

“It was... fine,” Tommy lied, but he wasn’t specifically in the fancy of receiving a pitying look.

“Oh, okay. That’s nice!”

"I guess." He shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “Do you happen to know the order of an array?”

“Yes, I’ve just checked actually. Your mare, Mrs. Shelby, will be displayed as third.” In the peripheral vision, she could see him nodding - accepting the information - at what she had said, but something twitched in his expression. Not expecting him to pick up on the conversation, she recalled the details stated on a black-and-white page pinned to the cork board at the door of the stable; then she continued: “After that, the bidding will commence. The good news is we have high chances of winning.”

“That's what I'm hoping for.”

The tent looked pretty neat inside, once the four of them reached it. It was bustling with people, mainly those from around the village who did not intend to participate in the auction and merely hoped for quality entertainment; Tommy, however, could spot some wealthy people in the crowd too with unidentifiable for him faces. None of them did he recognize but, on the other hand, he presumed that not many folks from Birmingham would actually show up here anyway.

“Good mornin’, ladies and gentlemen...” the presenter started with a thick Irish accent, incomprehensible to those who didn’t listen intently enough. A loud yawn escaped Y/N’s mouth. She covered it with her hand, but that didn’t help much with subduing the sound. The presenter went on with his exuberant babble for a while, earning two more yawns from Y/N, before finally letting the first horse on a paddock - a heavily muscled gelding with red ribbons tangled in the mane, and white patches contrasting with the rest of its black hair.

It took several minutes but, exceedingly bored, Y/N made up her mind on taking a little stroll as a form of wake-up. “I’m gonna fix some water from the shop. It’s just around the corner. Want some?”

“No, thank you.” And as she collect her things, a nagging thought popped up in Tommy’s mind. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said in a thankful tone towards his offer, smiling. Subsequently, she directed herself to the main exit, leaving her group behind, and soon vanished from Tommy’s view.

Tommy didn’t like it but was forced to concede to the fact that Y/N was simply his employee, and he was in no capacity whatsoever in questioning her whereabouts. Accordingly, with that persisting notion in his mind, he was compelled to sit and watch as the second horse was hauled on the paddock by a groom who made an impression of being slightly annoyed with the horse’s resistance. He poked it at its haunch with an elbow and, consequently, received a faint neigh with a few, back-legged twitches.  

Ten minutes elapsed...

Still no sign of Y/N which was increasingly worrying because, as she had said, the shop was just around the corner and obviously queues couldn’t be that long since everyone was assembled in the tent. Tommy was constantly glancing between the paddock and his pocket watch, fingers fidgeting in nervousness. He was hyperaware that maybe he was just panicking, and maybe the whole storyline he had visualized in his head was a figment of his overheated imagination; but he was also hyperaware of the danger during such events whereas some men, vicious men, wandered around with no good intentions in them.

“Our next precious gem is the one and only mare dragged all the way from South England...”

This was Tommy’s horse or the one he intended on owning after the auction. He should have focused on the beautiful mare that had just trotted in with its glistening mane reflected by a dozen of floodlights. He should have focused like the rest of the audience, Arthur and John included, as all of them began cheering loudly from the stands. He should have focused when the presenter started tossing the compliments all over the mare, making it double enticing for other contestants of the auction.

Instead, his attention was racing far beyond that as fifteen minutes elapsed in absence of Y/N. This tiny voice in the back of Tommy’s head, maybe a hunch, was giving him the hints - something had happened, something had happened.

He would drive himself mad if he didn’t check what was going on.

“Oh, where’re ya going Tom?” asked John, who instantly turned his gaze around when Tommy got up.

“To the loo...” was all he said before departing. Quickly, he made his way towards the main exit, subconsciously picking up on the pace with every step, the invisible noose tightening around his neck.

As he left the tent, he traveled across the muddy patches of the green land, his eyes frantically scrutinizing the area. Nothing, in particular, caught his eye: a mixture of shabby and extravagant cars, scattered paper cups, horses’ dung-

But then, he heard something. Almost inaudible that was but the silent whimpers, like the quiet tussle, were emerging from somewhere. Tommy, now even more panicked, started looking around the place inspecting every single corner, every single stall... Reaching one of the last spots he could possibly check, he halted at the storeroom where the all items and accessories for horses were stored. And, as the door flung open, the sight in front of him struck him to the core: trapped in the extremely small area, Y/N was pinioned to the wall, both of her hands pinned above her head and she was squirming tremendously. The sleeve hems of her white shirt were almost completely torn and material dangling. The Guy, who very likely initiated the scuffle, was trying to impose himself on Y/N, one of his hands harshly seizing both arms to the wall, the second one marveling all over her attire. At the moment, he was struggling with the upper buttons of Y/N’s shirt, the auburn coat she had on before thrown somewhere into a distinct corner of the floor. The little cries Tommy had heard beforehand must have been muffled by the closed door because now they were excruciatingly loud, pleading to let go.

What the-

Without a second thought, Tommy launched himself on the Guy, and with all his strength he could gather, pulled him away from Y/N, rendering her free. He was in a state of utter stupor, the blunt rage blinding him and provoking anger to boil in his chest. He had no restraints now; fists all over, he was punching the Guy with a whole new vigor, the Guy strongly flabbergasted by the abrupt plot twist. The unsuppressed moans were erupting in the room, the man constrained to the ground attempting to fight back, but unsuccessfully.

Tommy was hitting him and, heedlessly, he didn’t want to stop. Not until the blood spluttered, not until the man understood what kind of doom he had brought onto himself by imposing on the woman. The woman that meant a great deal to him. He didn’t care for the screams, somewhere in the nebulous background, telling him to stop. He didn’t even notice when he was extricated from the Guy, still grappling against the grasp that was holding him back as he tried to pursue the fight.

“That’s okay, let go now,” the male voice said in a calming manner. It was Arthur if Tommy had to guess, but he was too occupied with his untamed fury to verify that. “Breathe in. Breathe out.”

Although unwillingly, he complied to the command. Mere moments later, after his nerves had soothed down back to what could be regarded as a normal state, Tommy’s view became more clear and, for the first time, he looked around - Arthur was indeed anchoring him in the place, his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, wearing a sympathetic furrow on his face. Tommy’s gaze passed on, discreetly searching the familiar face in the crowd of spectators who had come to witness the accident.

And there she was - weeping meters away from him, encircled by a bunch of women who were trying to affirm her emotionally with what had just happened. One of them, seemingly the oldest one, placed a hand on her bare shoulder to which Y/N flinched at first; however, when she turned and saw the woman smiling down at her, she appeared to be thankful for her non-verbal support.

Tommy decided to walk over to her. “Oi, Y/N, I’m so sorry for wh... Whoa!” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because a pair of arms flung around his neck, clasping him in an embrace. Instinctively, he reciprocated the gesture by wrapping his own arms around Y/N’s waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She started weeping again, weeping hard, but more in gratefulness than hysteria as she had done before. Her fingertips were clawing at his overcoat.

“I do-n’t kknow what... if you we-ren’t there,” she half-cried, half-mumbled, her weeps intensifying when the probable images bobbed up in her head. Her fingertips dug even deeper into the material. He cradled her from side to side, assuring her that everything was alright, that she could feel safe now. Truthfully, it shattered his heart when he saw her like that - broken, tears staining her beautiful face. He wished to could take her pain, expunge these nasty memories from her head with a snap of fingers; murder the man who dared to lay his dirty fingers Y/N. She felt so vulnerable now, unlike usual when she would make an impression of strong and independent. Like a little girl, she was helplessly sobbing into his torso, and all Tommy wanted for that moment was to take proper care of her.

The realization clicked within him suddenly - Y/N meant a great deal to him, his emotions building up for years now, and only fortified by the dreams he had been recently having.

They stood like that for minutes, hours maybe - Tommy really couldn’t tell. Meanwhile, the Guy was taken over by one of the coppers who was luckily attending the event as a form of scanty security; Arthur and John were talking to the second copper, presumably clarifying what had just happened at that very place (the scenery was pretty self-explanatory); and the bunch of women who previously accumulated around Y/N, moved over to give her and Tommy some privacy.

“How d-did you fin-d me?” asked Y/N suddenly, after her respiration returned back to normal, her voice less shaky. She removed her head from his chest but shifted only mere millimeters so that she could get a better view of his dial.

“You were away for a long time. I thought something happened...”

‘...and something did,’ was the part he thought of, but chose to leave to himself.

“Oh...” Her face flinched and she furrowed her eyebrows slightly. “Okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh... Not now, no.”

Tommy accepted that with a silent nod. Of course, he understood why. What had just happened must have been extremely overwhelming to her.

Undoubtedly.

Back in the days when he had been dispatched to the War field, he had encountered so many victims, so many dejected people who had participated in the bloody battle, espying far too many deaths of strangers, friends, or families. They would never want to talk about their experiences as he had offered, but they had always seemed to be secretly touched by the indication that they could freely talk to someone. It had subconsciously united them.

The heavy steps approached them from the back. “Y/N, you alrigh’?” asked John.

Hastily, as if the bucket of water was poured onto her, she untangled herself from the embrace. Tommy secretly missed the warmth of her body but didn’t vocalize the thought.

“Have been better,” Y/N replied, truthfully, wiping the residue of tears on her face with one swift hand movement. She gave him an awkward attempt to smile. “If that makes you feel any bettea, Arthur has taken care of the guy.”

“Thank you,” said Y/N, her voice still a little bit hoarse. “That actually means a great deal.”

“How has that started? If you don’t mind askin’.”

Clearly uncomfortable with the question, Y/N squinted and Tommy, with the power of his mind, slapped him across the face. “I- I’m sorry, John. I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

He understood that; nodding, his hands plunged to the depths of his pockets and started rummaging. Tommy looked at Y/N again, not able to resist the itch. But she was completely lost in her rumination, it seemed, as her gaze was absentmindedly fixed on the calm sky above her.

Tommy knew what she was thinking of, the tranquility of the sky being the contradiction of her knotty mind. And the images floated again: Y/N trapped in the firm, ferocious grasp, the Guy breathing down her neck with his stinky intentions. Something was suddenly churning in the pit of Tommy’s stomach.

The clinking of the car keys echoed. “Want us to give you a ride?” asked John.

“Umm, that’s really sweet John but I’ve already decided to go with Mary.” She pointed at the elderly woman who had been clutching her arm previously. “She’s my mother’s old friend.” Then, yet again, she turned to Tommy who had been staring at her the whole time. She gave him a coy smile now, suddenly realizing that the embrace they had shared may have been a little bit out of line. “Thank you once more... Mr.Shelby. If it Hadn’t been for you-”

“I know,” he chimed in, reassuringly, concerned that she may start tearing up again. “Take your time and come back to work whenever you feel like it.”

“Thank you.”

And then, he did something he wasn’t aware he had the courage to do - grabbing her by both arms and pulling forward, he planted a kiss on her cheek. Luckily for Tommy, she reciprocated the gesture, bringing her hands softly on his torso and lining into the kiss. As they departed, Tommy could feel that his cheeks were on fire, bright red, something he hadn’t experienced many times in his life. Y/N had a similar reaction.

“Be careful, alright?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“I will,” she said, smiling like mad.

She left afterward, leaving Tommy worried about whether she would keep up with the promise.

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

[azlrse]

Um hello! This is My first time request someone but Umm can you do Yandere Almond cookie x innocent reader please?

Clueless (Yandere Almond Cookie x GN Cookie!Reader)

Synopsis: from love letters to heartfelt messages, you really hoped that someday, you will eventually find the cookie who truely loves you. But what if that particular cookie loves you too much?

CW: yandere themes, oblivious reader, abuse of power, implied kidnapping and manipulation (not proof reading since it got rushed--)

A/N: I'm so sorry if this fic doesn't make sense. I got out of hand and this is wayy too long to read dbdjdjdidi-

This fic was dedicated to @theforgetten0ne 💕

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉��� ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"Next costumer please!"

You spoke as you handed down the cold beverage towards your regular costumer. The sound of the small murmuring voices and the soothing music played on the small radio of the corner of the peaceful coffee shop.

From the sweet smelling newly baked bread and pies placed inside of the glass container for other customers to see, to the sound of the blender doing its job producing sweet tasting smoothies and drinks to satisfy the sweet toothed cookies who would come by and take a taste of the sweet desserts on the cafe.

For a small background, you work on your family cafe that's been owned for many generations. You really liked your job and you lived all the kind and sweet compliments the other cookies gave you when they took a taste of your family's work.

Aside from your amazing job, there's no denying that you were also a hopeless romantic. There were multiple occasions that you saw couples being lovey dovey on your shop. You don't despise them but instead, you offered the couple a small cake as a sign of luck for their long lasting love.

Not to mention her royal highness, Princess Cookie and her knight were always visiting the cafe, holding each other's hands as she kept on talking about her adventures and wants to spend time with her knight. You knew that Knight Cookie has romantic feelings for the adventurous royal, and as always, you offered them both a cake as a gesture. Princess Cookie would even give you a huge amount of tip for the cake but you refused.

You even told the princess that Knight Cookie has a crush on her and was nervous to ask her out.

And through your selfless actions, the both of them became a couple and Knight Cookie thanked you for boosting up his confidence to confess to his princess.

You were happy towards them and the other couples that visited your shop but deep inside...

You were quite lonely and seeing other couples' happiness makes you happy as well. You always wanted someone who truely loves and takes care of you. Hell, when you were a young cookie, you already dreamt of your wedding. Saying I do to the cookie you deeply loved and spending the rest of your cookie life with them.

But due to your line of work and the amount of shops were opened to different areas on Earthbread, you didn't have time to sort out your romantic life. It sucks but at least money can buy your happiness, right?

On the streets of Magic City, Almond Cookie just finished solving one of the missing cookie cases when one of his co-workers told him about the newly opened coffee shop on the edge of the street. He was about to decline the offer (since he always drinks his americano coffee on a daily basis), his co-worker told him about the different kinds of hot beverages your shop offered.

That just sparked his interest. Did they just say hot beverages? Aside from the americano coffee he always drinks every single day? Maybe he should try some hot coffee on your shop and he could tag along his daughter since the shop also served shakes and smoothies for younger cookies.

-----

"Next costumer please!"

Almond was in awe at the appearance of the unique cafe; the speaker playing soothing music, indoor plants that was placed on different corners of the room and the quiet atmosphere. You really did impressed the detective, despite the neutral expression he always had in his career.

He was a bit distracted by the surroundings when you softly called him to place his order. "Sir? Is something the matter?" You spoke, tapping the pen on his shoulder to get his attention. You were smitten by his appearance, not to mention a handsome one too. Wait... This could be...

It's the infamous detective in Magic City, the detective who can crack a case and successfully solved it despite it's difficulty. Detective Almond Cookie just visited your shop!

You successfully caught his attention as his daughter began to pester him to place his order. "Daaaaddd, I want a pudding smoothie! We can take a look later but for now, order now. We don't want this cookie to wait for us!" Walnut spoke while tugging his trenchcoat. Finally, he looks at you and was a bit embarrassed by his antics. "Oh sorry miss/mister, I was a bit distracted. I apologize."

"It's fine detective, it looks like you were a bit tired from your cases." You took out a pen and notepad and with a smile, you continued. "May I take your orders?"

Almond was bit skeptical by the list of different coffees, from black coffee to the customer favorite machiato coffee. He wasn't sure about his order, which he asks you and again, apologizes for his antics. But you reacted the opposite, you actually explained to him what each coffee contains. He's not a sweet tooth nor likes bitter drinks so he finally settles in on the popular item on the menu.

"Alright then, and what does the little one wanna order?"

"I want the pudding shake! From the other cookies, I heard that it tastes really good!" Walnut exclaimed, excited that she'll finally taste the shake that every young cookie from her school were talking about. "That's right, little one. The pudding shake is also a customer favorite!" You replied while listing down the orders of the two cookies.

"Your orders will be brought in a few minutes. Thank you so much!" Handing down the change towards the detective, he and his daughter walked towards the spare table and observed the surroundings once again. "They're really pretty/handsome, aren't they dad?" Almond looked at his daughter. His daughter maybe right, you are an attractive cookie, pacing around to complete their orders. Not to mention the way you talk, it's so soothing and soft, just like the atmosphere the small cafe produced.

He nods at Walnut's answer. "Maybe we should visit here again. I really liked this place." He may not say it but he really finds peace within your store, even if he visits it for the first time. After a few minutes, you came out from the back of the counter, carrying a tray with their beverages. "Sorry for the wait, here's your order, sir." You spoke while placing the beverages on their table and turned to walk towards the counter. After all, the shop will not be popular without the amount of customers you guys have to deal.

His daughter was right, the beverages you served was really good and it's been a while since he drank a hot coffee aside from the americano he usually drank on a daily basis. Looks like he'll visit the shop once again not for the coffee he just tasted earlier but he wants to see you again. There is something unique that is shown within you. It could be your patience or better yet, the way you smile.

Walnut also boast on her school that she drank the popular pudding shake that everyone's talking about. She loves that drink so much she wants to go back to your shop just to order it again.

Many months had passed, the shop you work for became more popular as more customers flooded the shop. Stars of rating increased as customers placed their satisfied comments within the website. You and your family was so happy about the results. You really deserved this, after all the sacrifices you and your family went through to make the business a successful one.

Not to mention the detective himself was the star customer of your branch of the cafe. He usually orders the same thing, sometimes he orders a different coffee but still orders the machiato coffee. He would even order his daughter's favorite to bring it home.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"You don't have to call me sir. Just call me Almond, (y/n) Cookie."

"H-how do you know my name?" You were a bit startled when he first called your name. Isn't it a bit personal?

"Well, everyone knows the manager of this cafe." He replied, taking out the wallet from his pockets to pay for the beverages. Maybe he's right, your shop was popular after all so everyone must know your name. He didn't mean it with any ill intentions, or isn't he?

Almond knew your name not because for the website itself but also...from everyone you knew. Using his connections as a detective, he asked your co-workers and your family about your background. Now, he knows everything about you; your birthday, your home address and if it's not enough for him, he even followed you home. 'It's not stalking' he thought, he's just trying to protect you from the dangers that lurks within the darkness.

You were so precious to him, he even saw you fawning him over everytime he visited your shop. Looks like you also want him huh? Gaining so called feelings for the detective such as himself.

But he didn't think twice because he heard something that wasn't meant for him. What you felt towards him was more of an idolization rather than admiration. Yes, he's handsome and a really good detective but your idolization towards him didn't have romantic attraction.

Ouch, that must've hurt for him..

Almond wasn't the type of cookie who would fall for someone that easily but for you? He fell hard. He loves your presence, your soft smile and the way you treated him and his daughter ever since the first time the both of them visited your shop.

Hell you were the perfect parent figure for his daughter.

His thoughts were filled with you, constantly thinking about how perfect the relationship the both of you had. Being called endearments to each other and having dates here and there.

There's no denying that the detective fell deeply in love to a barista. What makes his hopes up is when one of your co-workers mentioned that you were a hopeless romantic.

Through their words, he started to send in small gifts and letters everytime you opened up your shop. Your heart sore high everytime someone brought in some gifts and letters from your secret admirer. You really wanna know who's the person behind the heart felt words and the sweet delicate deserts.

'They didn't even try rejecting the gifts, that's a good sign' Almond spoke to himself while spying on you behind the large tree just across the shop. He was smiling on the inside when you read the letters, filled with words that swoon you over your feet.

But he notices something that was quite a bit usual towards you, he tried dropping hints here and there that he liked you, calling you nicknames and flirting with you but you mistook those for something else other than a romantic gesture.

"You know sweetie, what you served here are really good."

"Your smile actually makes me wanna drop dead."

"That's really friendly of you, detective. Thank you so much."

He was a bit clueless by your response, how come you want to be with someone else but you were clueless to his gestures. That's what it hit him;

You were oblivious...

A hopeless romantic but an oblivious one....

So he continuously wins your heart by sending in small gifts and letters once again. In your perspective, you were desperate to know who's the person behind all the letters and gifts. One particular night, things took a turn when another cookie spoke to you. He dressed in really fancy clothing and a piece of glass was placed on his eye.

Not to mention that the cane he carried symbolizes that he must be rich and belonged to a well known family.

What you didn't know is that the cookie you spoke to was the thief Almond was after for, stealing precious diamonds and other expensive item from a nearby shop or museum. Rougefort Cookie was smitten by your appearance and fancies you alot. He would even describe you as the most expensive treasure he ever laid his eyes on and you were swooned over by his words.

When Almond saw this, he was seeing red. You were talking to the cookie that imposed a threat to the city and goes after you? He can feel his jealousy seeping through his dough to the endearment Rougefort called you;

His treasure, his one and only treasure...

He left the scene without a trace, not only he was mad at him, but also towards you. All the letters, the gift, his dedication towards you... It felt like it was washed away, sucked in the drain and never came back.

He'll make sure that thief goes to his rightful place, a jail cell.

------

You noticed that your star customer didn't visited your shop for a few weeks. It's been a while since you last saw him, ordering the usual and chatting with you on the spare table about the events that took place within the day.

But instead, you stayed in your shop in fear. Creepy letters were sent towards you and it's making you uneasy and scared. Sometimes it contains possessive words or there were times that it threatens you that if you spoke to that cookie once again, he'll have to choice but to arrest them, with or without a fault.

You didn't know who's he's talking about and you talked to alot of cookies because of your career, making you a bit scared when taking their orders. Some of your co-workers even sensed your state of distress, how you were looking each and everything corner of the to find the perpetrator. "(y/n), is something wrong? Is this about the creep who's watching you?" You nodded, clearly in a state of fear.

You thanked silently that your co-worker was one of your closest friends. They also suggested making a file for the police, but that wasn't the case due to lack of evidences. They sat beside you and held your hand tightly, a small sign that you are not alone to deal with this mess.

"We'll catch them, I won't leave your side till that creep was gone." You thanked them profusely, not knowing that the perpetrator was listening through your words. You were protected by your so-called friend?

Well you better say good bye to them cause bad luck was going to catch up to you.

Don't be shocked if your friend was later arrested the next day of a crime they didn't commit. They imposed a threat towards you and your shop, making you profusely protested towards the cops that they didn't do anything wrong.

They didn't believed in what you're saying, not even one bit...

Almond was watching the commotion across the street, he was smirking on the inside from the sight he saw and felt a bit of pity when he saw your distressed state but worry not, darling. You will be in the loving arms of the detective, all his and his alone.

That made you even more scared, shaking excessively as you step foot outside of your home and in your shop. Your fear makes it difficult for you to talk to someone else and there's only one cookie who you look up to;

Rougefort Cookie.

-------

"Woah woah, what's with the face doll? You looked so scared." Rougefort spoke as he held you tightly. He was worried at the sight of your face, not to mention the eyebags underneath your eyes lids, indicating that you didn't slept for a while. "Someone's watching me..." You murmured, holding his shirt tightly as if he's gonna disappear in any moment.

His face contorted in confusion. "I cannot understand what you're saying, (y/n)." At this state, you were so scared that you finally spoke out. "Someone's watching me, Rougefort!! My friend was arrested because of them a-and the letters!! The letters Rougefort!!" You sobbed excessively while holding his arms tightly.

Wait, your friend was arrested and he knows someone who had a connection to the authorities. His disappearance from your shop was one indication that he might be your stalker. He also heard that he had a crush on you, after a conversation with Latte and Espresso on Parfaedia Institute. He's also planning on asking you out someday.

Wait, it couldn't be...

He must see the letters. If the handwriting matches with the detective, then there's do doubt that he's the perpetrator, your stalker. "Doll, did you bring in the letters?" You nodded in affirmation. "Can I see those, if that's okay with you." You handed down the letters and analyzes the usage of words and the handwriting.

He brings in a spare pad that contains Almond's handwriting which he stole from his office last week. You only watched in silence as he compares the two pieces of paper. Rougefort felt goosebumps crawling through his dough, this letter just made him really uneasy. Then he notices something on the edge of the paper, the very same item the perpetrator drinks on a daily basis.

It's a coffee stain and the handwriting, it looks really similar to his own. Then it hits him, he needs to ask you a very important question.

"(y/n), what does Almond ordered on the very first day the both of you met?"

"A Machiato..." He hands you over the coffee stained paper. "Can you identify the smell of this paper?" He asked you and you smelled the sweet scented paper and your eyes went wide. It smells just like the coffee you used to make on your cafe. "Wait, it couldn't be-"

"His disappearance, the letters, the gifts and I've heard one time that he plans on asking you out." Rougefort looks at you and held your hand tightly, sending you into a panic state. "The detective is your stalker, doll. We must get you to safety."

.......

"I don't think so, you thief..."

The both of you snapped out and stared at the source of the voice. It's the detective himself, but with a lovesick smile appeared on his face. "So you finally know who's the perpetrator, even for a thief like him." He came closer towards the both of you while clapping slowly.

Rougefort didn't hesitate cover you with his body, sperating you from that monsters.

"A thief? What's he's talking about?"

"It's a long story doll-"

"Oh now you're calling them 'doll'?" He lets out a dry laugh. "You really are a thief, a petty one of I'm being honest. They should be with someone who doesn't have a criminal record." At this point, Rougefort pulled you closer to his body, to order to protect you from your stalker. "At least I'm not some kind of creep who would stalk someone and leave some creepy letters." He was taken back by his retribution.

Almond was pissed off at this point "(y/n), come here this instant. That cookie beside you was nothing but a thief, a wanted criminal who stole precious memorabilia from museums."

At this point, you spoke in anger towards him. All those days you used to live in fear, the nights where you couldn't sleep and your friend's arrest for their framed crime. It's all because of him.

You shook your head and hid behind Rougefort. "Even if he's a so-called thief, I don't want to be with you. You are delusional for thinking that I'll love you back despite all the gifts I've received from you."

Police sirens were heard from the distance, indicating that Almond must have called them because of Rougefort. With no choice, the both of you ran away as quickly as possible. Almond shouted your name as he quickly followed pursuit. "This is detective Almond Cookie, the suspect got a hold of the victim. Follow him quickly." He spoke towards his hidden walkie talkie on his trenchcoat.

He held your hand tightly as the both of you ran away from him, jumping from different buildings as police cars and helicopters were following the both of you.

Suddenly, a chain was wrapped around Rougefort causing him to slip and fall to the hard cement below. "Rougefort!" You spoke, trying to pry off the hard chains wrapped on his body. "It won't come off, you know that my handcuffs are inescapable." Almond spoke, causing you to panic internally.

The sound of police sirens and the flash of red and blue flashes through your eyes

"I'm fine, doll. It's just a small crack."

The conversation was cut short when he was roughly escorted by the authorities. "I'm not leaving you!" He just smiled and gripped your hand for the last time. "Thank you for being my treasure, (y/n)...."

-------

"Can you at least speak towards me, (y/n)?" You didn't spoke towards him. It's been a few weeks since he took you away from him and the outside world. Putting you in his room with a soft cuff dangling from your ankle.

Almond knew what he's doing was wrong, a serious crime to say the least. But he did this is because he loves you, to be protected from the outside world. However, you fought tooth and nail towards him. You were no longer the sweet and hopeless romantic cookie he fell deeply in love.

"I hate you and leave me alone..." You spoke with an ill intention. He just sighs and placed an arm on your shoulder. "Sweetie, can you at least give a chance to love you? I promise that I'll take good care of you. As long as you accepted my feelings towards you."

You just swatted his arm away and turned your back against him. You? Accepting his love despite in captivity? He really is delusional, a psychopath who's occupation was to protect the city and not taking somebody because of love.

"Why would I even give you a chance to a monster? I will never love someone like you. Now leave me alone, you creep." Almond just sighs in sadness and walks away through the door. He glanced at you for the last time before locking the door behind him.

Almond kept a promise that he'll never laid a hand on you. He will earn your love through devotion and trust. Now won't you like it if you stayed in that room for the whole day without interaction? Breaking your sanity bits and bits till you came crawling back towards him.

He'll wait, he'll wait for the day you loved him back as much ss he loves you.

Almond Cookie will have his sweetheart, wether they liked it or not...

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[mjolnir-steve]

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair. 

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too. 

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot. 

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you. 

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings. 

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night. 

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work. 

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.” 

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder. 

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?” 

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides. 

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

[teasty]

hold on tight || b.c (m)

"hi! can you write something about streetracer!chan x f reader where things got heated up 🥺🥺 i really like your works by the way, kiss yourself really is one of my jisung’s fav fic !!" - anon

a/n: holyashjdljzhldsa just the thought of streetracer!chan makes me... omg i don’t even KNOW, i'd actually go crazy... and omg tysm! that means so much to me :,( and you're gonna have to excuse me since there's so many things heated could mean i'm just gonna make it angsty and smutty,, also kinda went off for a fluffy ending because it's bang chan, the christiano bangnaldo, how can i not???

● pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

● genre: a lil bit of fluff at the beginning | angst | smut (mdi!)

● warnings: chan acts like a dick but he really isn't | illegal gambling/street racing | established relationship | angry sex | (of course) car sex | hair pulling | degradation + praise | dom!chan, sub!reader | fighting :( | semi - public sex | profanity | suggestive dialogue | reader slaps chan once :( | unprotected sex (please be safe!) | choking | kind of a quickie???? | super happy ending because i'm sappy like that

● requested? yes!

● words: 8.7k

→ summary:

You’ve never known about your boyfriend’s secret and very illegal job, if you could even call it that.

"Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling."

It’s a cold, rainy night. You’re waiting comfortably on the couch, sitting there wrapped up in one of Chan’s blankets, waiting ever so patiently for his return. He’s not usually out this late, neither did his job usually end this late. Your mind was getting the worst kinds of ideas as you held your phone in your hand, more worry than anger coming over you. You couldn’t be mad at him, really, you were just worried something happened to him, since he wasn’t picking up your calls or even looking at your texts.

It’s around midnight, and you swore you wouldn’t sleep until you watched Chan, in all his glory, walk through the front door of your guys’s shared apartment. You’ve been dating Chan for years, ever since high school. And, now, even after graduating college and finding a stable job and apartment, Chan still tended to keep things from you. It was a bad habit of his, yes, but you couldn’t really be too mad at him for it. Besides, you’ll be able to help him out of that habit. Once he comes back, at least.

To wait, you decided to watch a bit of television to let your mind wander from the thought of something bad happening to Chan. Of course, the subtle thought of him cheating crossed your mind a few times, but Chan’s only ever been the most loyal and dedicated boyfriend, even past his pretty hard shell. He acts pretty tough sometimes, but you know that he’s just a little bit insecure about himself on the inside. Which, to you, is completely normal. Everyone’s at least a little bit insecure. You couldn’t blame him for that.

Getting with Chan was actually very difficult at first. You both had a rocky start before you started dating, since Chan was kind of like the cliche popular bad boy, and you were the snarky book nerd. You both started off arguing and bickering about everything. But, when you both got closer and closer, you began to see a softer, kinder side to him. And, like magic, you two started dating. You don’t really remember how it happened. It might’ve been just Chan saying, “Wanna date me?” or something like that just ‘cause it’s simple. However, getting it past your parents about your relationship with Chan was the most difficult in the world. They did not approve of him whatsoever. Even today, they’re still cautious of him even though Chan’s already proven his loyalty to you and swore to your parents that he’d never lay an aggressive finger on you.

You’re parents didn’t really like him because of his choice of outfits and friends, which was a stupid way to judge somebody in your opinion. So, no matter how many times they tried to break things off or distance you from Chan, you two always found your way back to each other. Though it was fun, all the sneaking out at three in the morning, saying you’re going over to a friends house when you’re really going to go see Chan and all the late night calls in a hushed tone, you’re glad you can finally relax about it and live peacefully with Chan without the need to sneak around.

But, your mind hasn’t been so peaceful these last few hours. There’s still no sign of Chan and no opened messages. You gave up on calling him after the fifth call had gone unanswered, and just decided to wait. Clutching your phone to your chest in case he were to call or text. Your eyes switch between the screen and the front door (which led into the living room).

You nearly jumped out of your blanket when your phone started ringing obnoxiously loud. Your heart beat loudly as you scrambled to look at the caller’s I.D. And, thankfully, it’s Chan. You’ve never answered so quickly.

“Chan?” Your excited voice squeaked out when you brought the phone close to your ear, a bright smile etching over your lips. Just happy that he’s in contact with you.

“Hey, darling,” Chan’s voice was husky and tired, and a little deeper than you remember. He must be exhausted, and you wondered if he had to stay late at work, “I’m so sorry for being out late. I’ll be home soon.”

“Alright… Is everything okay? What were you doing out so late?” You ask carefully, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.

“Work. My boss had me work over time. I would have texted you, but I was pretty busy,” in the distance, you can hear the sound of his car’s engine. He must be driving pretty fast. Chan also has a really nice car he saved up for and worked really hard for. It’s a smaller, good looking and really, really fast car. You could recognize that engine anywhere.

“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” You respond after a moment.

“It’s alright. Nothing to worry too much over,” you can hear Chan’s smile even through the phone, “And, by the way, could you do something for me before I get home?”

“Sure.”

“Could you make me something small to eat? I didn’t have the chance to eat dinner at work. If you could do that, that’d be so great, baby.” Chan says, and you get up off of the couch. Already heading for the kitchen.

“I could make you some jjajangmyeon? We have all the ingredients,” you say, surfing through your pantry.

“That’d be great, (Y/N). Thank you,” Chan sighs through the phone, and you pull out the ingredients.

“Of course. When will you be home?” You ask before he could hang up.

“I’ll be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, at the least.” He says, and you can hear the engine get a little bit louder behind him, “I have to focus on the road. I’ll be home soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too, Chan.” You respond, and hang up. Now with the satisfaction and the relief of knowing Chan’s coming home, you separate the ingredients out and start cooking (thank god you took that home economics class back in high school. You couldn’t cook for shit before that). Since Jjajangmyeon is a pretty slow cooked dish, you try your best with temperature control to fit it into the timeframe for when Chan gets home, wanting it to be ready for him.

You had your hair tied back as you cooked, occasionally looking up to watch the television, which was still on the random news channel from before. It talked about things you weren’t too interested in, so you only kept it on for background noise.

You were so immersed in cooking, you didn’t even notice the door slamming open and closed and a pair of heavy footsteps walking up to the kitchen. You jumped when Chan’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin planting itself on your shoulder. He laughs tiredly at your reaction, and you turn to give him a subtle glare, but your smile deceived you.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry for coming home so late. I promise it wasn’t my intention,” Chan grumbles out, his words low and slightly slurred, mostly because he’s tired.

“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” you chuckle softly as you arrange two portions of the jjajangmyeon into two different bowls. Chan watches silently over your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re home. You worried me. Please text me next time, before you stay overtime and don’t bother texting me. I worry a lot, you know?”

“I know, (Y/N). I know you worry too much for your own good,” Chan smiles softly, chuckling tiredly, “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

You smile, flustered, and raise a warm hand to press against Chan’s cheek, turning your head to press a loving kiss to his temple, which is cold, even in the warm kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat in bed?”

“Not if you’ll make me do the dishes directly afterwards,” Chan lets go of you to take his dish, and you take yours.

You cock a brow at him, “I was going to make you do them anyways. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” You giggle and tap his nose with the tip of your finger. “Come on. Take mine, too. I’ll shut everything down.” You hand your bowl to Chan, who takes it quickly as you scurry around, turning off the television. Turning off lights and putting the dishes in the sink.

Once Chan’s changed into more comfortable wear and you’re both comfortable in bed, watching some show on the TV while eating. Time at home was usually like this; relaxing. You’re cuddled up to Chan while he ate slowly. Once you both finished, you placed them on the nightstands for the time being.

Chan was asleep instantly. You were up a bit longer, still a bit run on adrenaline from worrying so much earlier, despite knowing you have to be up early for work. Chan didn’t have to work till the afternoon, but you had to be up early since you’re a librarian at the local public high school. Chan’s an assistant producer and works under a decently big entertainment company. It’s quite the drastic difference, but you being a pretty big book worm yourself, you decided it would be fun to be a librarian (mostly using your literature degree), even if it’s stressful at times. Chan’s work, however, is much more tedious than your own. Where you can usually go at your own pace, he has more strict deadlines and sometimes more difficult work.

So, you let Chan sleep on your stomach. His arms wrapped around you securely as his face nuzzled into the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you were wearing. You were up a bit longer, watching the TV while running your hands through Chan’s soft hair. Enjoying the moment for the time being before you, yourself, drifted off into a deep sleep.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were the first one to wake up the next morning, per usual. You woke up to your alarm that Chan thankfully slept through. You got ready as quickly and quietly as you could. Since you work in a pretty professional environment, you wear something modest, but fits well with the fall weather and your fashion style. You wore a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks under a jacket with your university’s logo on it and a pair of sneakers. They weren’t too big on dress code for the teachers at the school, but the students still had to wear uniforms.

Before you left, you made Chan lunch for the day and yourself a lunch. You even bothered to wake him up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye and that you’ll be back early afternoon, although he’ll probably be at work, then. Chan, although three fourths asleep, gave you a tight hug and a kiss with a slurred ‘Love you’ before plopping back onto the bed and instantly falling back asleep.

Although Chan had quite the expensive car, he wasn’t quite fond of you driving it. You have your own car, and it’s fine. Mostly used to drive to and from work and nothing more, since most other things you were with Chan, so you both usually took his car. It’s not so much a matter of richer and poorer, his car just had more little trinkets and things that are just more convenient. You’re not completely sure what model his car is, all you know is that it’s expensive.

The school isn’t too far. It’s actually a ten minute drive from your apartment. You have to make it there pretty early, so the roads aren’t jam packed like they would be when Chan has to drive to work. So, you have a bit of an advantage there. When you get there, you’re met with the people in the front office, who bow respectfully to you, and you make your way to the library.

You set up at the large, round desk. You especially like being a librarian, because it’s quiet. You don’t think you’d do too well as a teacher, so you settled for a librarian since it was a good and easy way to use your literature degree and put it to good use, other than the fact you’re writing a novel, but that’s a whole other story (hehet).

It’s about half an hour before some students pile in, bidding you good morning and sitting down at the tables to study for whatever assignment or test they have, or to finish homework. Some of them go around to look at books, but most just sit by their lonesome and work on whatever while blasting profane music into their poor ears.

You were busying yourself going through overdue books, and emailing parents about student’s overdue books. You were immersed in your work, so you were somewhat shocked when someone tapped your shoulder. When you turned, you were met with the smiling face of your coworker. A middle aged, pretty woman named Jung Migyeong, who gave you the permission to call her ‘unnie’. She’s considerably your work - best friend. She’s the only person who really delved into conversation with you, unlike most of the other teachers who only talked to you about whatever book they’re class reading or for book suggestions (and you just choose the first book in the library that comes to mind).

“Oh, you scared me!” You giggle in a hushed tone, and Eunmi smiled brightly, her motherly aura giving you a sense of calmness.

“Sorry, sorry!” Eunmi sits on your desk, more leaning against it. Eunmi is really a pretty lady. Her hair is cut short to her shoulders, and she never wears makeup. Her natural tone is without blemishes or acne. She always wears pretty dresses to work, and she always carries around her purse for some odd reason. “I wanted to catch up with you. I didn’t realize you were so immersed in your work. I should’ve known, you’re more responsible than half the teachers here.”

“I try, I really do,” You respond, leaning back in the chair and smiling up at her, “Do you have a free period for the first hour?”

Eunmi nods, “Yes, I do. They switched it up just ‘cause of something wrong in the student's schedules. But, that’s past the point. How have things been going? In the home life?”

You shrug a shoulder, your smile dropping, “It’s… going. My boyfriend didn’t come home until, like, twelve - thirty last night. He said he had to stay late for work, but I don’t get it, Eunmi. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I don’t think his job prevents him from at least opening a text until he gets off, you know?”

“You said he’s a producer, right?” Eunmi asks, her head tilting down to look at you more clearly. You nod, “Well, he might’ve been busy with the idol. It’s pretty difficult work, I’m surprised he’s been able to keep up with it well.”

“Well, he came home hungry and tired,” you sigh again, “Which is weird because if he stays late he usually grabs something from the kitchen at the company building or fast food and eats it before he comes home. But, he was hungry… not super hungry, but I made him jjajangmyeon.”

"Jajangmyeon?" Eunmi’s head tilts, and one brow lifts and she scoffs, “That’s like a fifty minute dinner.”

“Not if you toy around with the temperatures, no,” you smile, and Eunmi shrugs a shoulder, “Eh, I was the one who suggested it to him. It’s one of his favorites, and he sounded exhausted and overworked so I though, you know, might as well. But, after eating, he was out like a light. You wouldn’t think that producing would make someone so tired.”

“You never know,” Eunmi reassures, “You seem to be really worried about this. You don’t think he’s cheating, do you?”

You quickly shake your head, “No, no! I know him, and I know that he would never do that to me. I think he’s just trying to hide something from me. I’m not mad at him, I just don’t want him to keep anything from me.”

“You’re not mad… yet!” Eunmi corrects, and your lips purse, “If he’s really hiding something from you, it must be pretty big. I would personally be surprised if you were able to keep your temper if you found out whatever it is he’s hiding. Cheating or not.”

You’ve never really been one to get extremely mad or even start arguments. As said before, you and Chan did have petty arguments back in high school, but since then, you’ve both matured. Chan always shut down a fight if you were getting too agitated, and you were usually never the first one to start up an argument, since your patience isn’t as thin as before. You will admit, though, you’d be decently upset if you found out Chan really was hiding something from you. You trust him so much, you thought there should’ve been nothing to hide.

“I suppose you’re right,” you lean your head against your hand, resting your elbow on the desk, “If there’s a good chance, I’ll talk to him about it tonight. If I want things to really work out with him, then there has to be complete trust and honesty with each other.”

“That’s the spirit,” Eunmi proudly says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with him, unnie,” you admit shamelessly, and Eunmi smiles wistfully, “I want to grow old with him. But I don’t want to live waking up every day at four in the morning and coming home to no one for hours on end. And, sometimes he won't come till midnight or morning.”

“Well, my husband and I used to have a lot of secrets, too. That we kept from each other,” Eunmi admits, reassuring you that you’re not the only one going through something like this, “The only way we were able to sort things through was by sitting down and talking to each other. Just telling all of our secrets to each other, even if they’re embarrassing or stupid. Just knowing the fact that we can trust each other with everything gives us that reassurance that we’re meant to be. Honesty is everything.”

You look down, thinking about the advice Eunmi had just given you, and you swallow down the growing lump of frustration in your throat, “Thank you for the advice, unnie. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course. I’m always free to talk, and you have my number if anything happens,” Eunmi smiles fondly, “And my doors are always open to you. I’ve spoken to my husband about you and he said that he’s always willing to keep our doors open. Just in case anything happens. You can’t be too careful, right?”

“Right,” you smile, flustered by Eunmi’s kindness, “Thank you so much. I’m… you’re right. If the worst of the worst happens and I’m booted out of my own apartment, then I’m at least glad to know that there’s some place I can go to that’s not three cities over.”

Eunmi laughs softly, and you laugh along with her, “I’m glad. Anyways, it’s about that time. I’m going to start heading back to my classroom. Let Chan know that I said hello, and that I wish you both well. Good luck, (Y/N).”

“Thanks, unnie. I’ll call you later,” you wave briefly as Eunmi makes her way out of the library, students bowing briefly to her as she passes.

You’re glad to have a friend like Eunmi. You’re lucky to have someone open their doors to you. Sometimes, you wonder if Eunmi views you as a younger sister, since she constantly rambles on and on about how she loves being called unnie or noona by her younger coworkers, even if she’s among the younger teachers. She’s like the sister you’ve never had. Sure, things had to be professional, but you’d like to spend more time with her out of the workplace. That would be fun.

The rest of the day is pretty slow. You had a few classes come in to pick up literature books, math books and to check out some books, but that was really it. You didn’t see Eunmi again, and left a few hours after the school closed. There was a bit of traffic on the way home, but it was mostly cleared up.

When you got home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. No sign of Chan, except the lunch you made him was gone, meaning he took it with him, thankfully, and he left a cute little note on a sticky note saying his thanks to you for making it for him. Which he usually did for you (you never bothered to throw them away. You actually kept them all in a little cigar box for safekeeping. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like it.)

Like every day when you come home, you change into a pair of more comfortable clothing, which was just one of Chan’s hoodies you took out of his side of the closet, and a pair of ripped jeans. Since Chan didn’t do the dishes before he left, like you thought he would, you decided to do them to pass the time. In doing so, you turned on the TV for some background noise as you rolled up your sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes.

However, your attention was soon caught by the TV when the regular news anchor started talking about crime. At first, it was just about a robbery that took place in uptown, and that didn’t really suit your interest. What did catch your attention, enough to turn off the faucet and ignore the dishes to watch the TV, was when an all - too familiar black car with tinted windows and no license plate appeared on the screen, and there was a red car, too, but you didn’t recognize that one.

You turned up the volume, “Today, police are trying to look for these cars with no license plates caught on camera last night. They were suspected to be illegally street racing and gambling last night at around eleven o’ clock at night before being caught on security footage of a hotel nearby. If you can identify these cars, please contact the police immediately. One has been identified as a black Ferrari SF90 Stradale. The other has yet to be identified. If you see anything suspicious on the streets, please contact authorities. Here’s a clearer picture of both cars.”

And, that’s when it sparked you. One of the pictures of the black Ferrari was of the front. Despite the tinted window, you could clearly see a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the mirror and a familiar hand gripping the wheel tightly. How could you recognize it? Despite the low quality, you can see a familiar ring on the middle finger. A celtic design Chan loved so much.

“Oh… my fucking god,” your mouth drops open as realization hits, and you immediately dash to the bedroom to yank open Chan’s dresser drawer, one left vacant for paperwork to “keep things safe”, and you pull out his insurance for his car. And, there it is, in plain sight. Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Color; black. Windows; tinted. At first, shock pools through you. Doubt climbing up. There’s no way Chan’s a criminal. There’s no way that he’s the one in the Ferrari. It has to be someone else.

But, there was only one way to find out. You had to be sure it was him.

So, you grabbed your purse and your keys and threw on a pair of slip - on vans. The sun was already setting, and you nearly forgot to lock up before running to your car. Barely unlocking it before you throw yourself into it, not even bothering to buckle your seatbelt before driving off to god knows where. Your gut leading you, immediately driving towards the area shown on the news. You pull out your phone, trusting the wheel in one hand as you pull up Chan’s profile and call him, pressing the phone to your ear.

The ringing carries on and on until the familiar voice of Chan speaks up, telling you that he’s not available and to leave a message after the beep.

“Oh, fuck off!” You scream at your phone before trying to call him again. Again and again it led to voicemail. Voicemail after voicemail. You couldn’t text him, not with you driving.

After the tenth call, you let out a frustrated yell, hitting your wheel with your palm and trying your best not to cry. You might be overreacting, since there’s a large chance that it isn’t Chan. But, for some reason, you believed it. You believed, at least somewhat, that it was Chan’s car. That it was Chan in the car. You didn’t want to believe it, but you did.

And your questions coursing through your mind were soon answered when you pulled up to the spot from the news, it now twilight, the sun just being set over the city’s horizon. You pulled onto an empty freeway, and parked in an alley between two buildings. There’s a group of people and a ton of expensive cars around the freeway. There were people crowded around a table. Some girls sat on top of cars, talking and laughing to each other while wearing vulgar and revealing clothes. Your brows furrow, deciding to stay low for a while. You turn off the engine to your car and watch carefully, gripping your phone in your hand. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, popping beer bottles, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

But, it’s when the sound of a loud engine came into earshot, and everyone, including you, turned to see the source of the sound. The moment the crowd of people see who it is, they start to cheer loudly. Throwing up their hands. However, your mouth falls open once more as the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale with tinted windows and a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the rear - view mirror. It pulls up to the crowd, and they all part to make way for it.

Instead of shock or sadness, anger and rage begins to boil inside of you, and you grip your steering wheel tightly as you watch Chan, Christopher Bang, step out of the car. People pat his shoulder, and he smiles widely at them. Giving a few people hugs and even smiling to some of the women, who tried to steal a hug from him, too. He’s wearing clothes you don’t ever remember seeing. He wears a black leather jacket over a white button up and black skinny jeans. You’d be impressed by how good he looks if you weren’t so upset.

You didn’t even have to look at your phone as you pulled up Chan’s profile and called him, pressing the phone roughly to your ear.

“Pick up… Pick the fuck up,” you grumble under your breath as you watch Chan. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it briefly.

Not even hesitating to hang up.

As you heard the familiar sound of Chan’s sweet voice telling you he’s not available at the moment and to leave a message after the beep, you finally have enough courage to get out of your car. Slamming the door shut and making your way out of the alley. They’re not too far, but it's a long enough walk for you to catch the eye of some people. You don’t even pause to rethink your decisions when a girl taps the chest of one of the guys, who glares at you with a raised brow.

The man that glared at you stepped away from the crowd, and you could barely see Chan over the people. He walks over to you, and you stop when the man is right in front of you, peering down you. The smell of cheap beer oozing off of him.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Chan’s girlfriend, now get the fuck out of my way,” you try to push past him, but he grabs you by the arm. Tightly, too. Probably tight enough to leave a bruise after a while. “Hey! Let go of me.”

“No can do, princess,” the man says, smirking mercilessly down at you, his grip not loosening one bit, “Whether or not you’re Chan’s bitch doesn’t matter to me. It’s either you leave or I take you home and we have a good time. Well, I will, at least.” So, you tried to yank your arm from his, trying your best not to use your free hand to punch him in the face.

“Where’s Chan? Bring him to me.” You demand, and the man scoffs, chuckling.

“Fine, have it your way,” the man turns his head towards the crowd, a few people watch, and he says, “Grab Chan. This chick says she’s his girlfriend.” A few of them laugh at him, thinking it’s a joke. But, you stand your ground, glaring through the crowd. One of the people that laughed pushed through a few people. It takes a minute, and there’s a tense silence between you and the man as you try to pry his hand off.

But, as you suspected, a smiling Chan pushes through, but his smile instantly drops when he sees you.

“Hey, Chan. This chick’s babbling on about being your girl. Should I kick-”

“Get your hands off her right now before I shoot you in the face.” Chan interrupts, anger lacing his dark, deep voice. The man holding your arm instantly lets go and steps away, his hands rising in defense. Mumbling something about just ‘trying to keep things safe’. Once the man is away, Chan walks up to you, now being the one tightly gripping your arms. Leaning down so his face is close to yours.

“Why are you here, (Y/N)? Why the hell are you here?” He asks harshly, his voice full of surprise and desperation. He even shakes you slightly.

“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out?” You snap, ignoring his question all together, “You thought I was dumb enough to let this go under? Well, I’ve been dumb for too long, Christopher. I’m not going to be like that anymore.” You know he’s not too big a fan of being called by his real name, but you do it anyway.

“Go home (Y/N). I’ll explain everything to you afterwards.” Chan says, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you away.

“No!” You yell, pushing his arms off you, “I am not going home, Chan! I am staying with you. I need to know what the hell all of this is. Right. Now.” You demand, and Chan shakes his head.

“No. You’re going home, (Y/N),” Chan tries to push you away again, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly and trying to turn you from the curious crowd. However, you weren’t going to be let off so easily. You swiftly turned around, letting your flying hand come in contact with Chan’s cheek. Smacking him. You made sure not to backhand him, knowing how much that could hurt. Besides, you don’t want to hurt him too much, you just want to get your point across, and he wasn’t listening to your words. He lets go of you again, his head flinging to the side because of the impact.

“I said no. I’m staying here,” You repeat yourself, and Chan’s eyes no longer lace with aggression, but worry. He doesn’t seem upset that you hit him. In fact, he seems to gloss over it. “I need to know what’s going on-”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence until Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the crowd. They part to make way for him, and you aren’t able to muster out a sentence before Chan unlocked his car and shoves you forcefully into the passenger seat.

“Chan, what -”

“Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight ‘cause it’s gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling,” Chan snaps, and your lips clamp close at his harsh words. You didn’t expect that out of him. You could nearly cry right there. Chan backs away and slams the door shut, and you quickly scramble to put the seatbelt on as Chan yells something at the crowd, and they erupt in cheers. A few people scramble to get into different cars, and the rest stay back, keeping their distance. However, Chan didn’t seem too pleased as he walked around the car and into the passenger’s seat, locking the doors.

“Chan…”

“Quiet,” Chan snaps, revving the engine of the car. You can faintly hear the cheer of the onlookers behind as Chan pulls alongside the other three cars. A young woman wearing small shorts and an exposed shirt too small for fall walks ahead, and pulls a red cloth out of her back pocket. Her red lips smile bright as she lifts her red cloth. She holds up one finger, and Chan’s engine growls from behind, the car shaking along with it. Your hands go to grip the first thing, which is the cup holder in the center console and the door. Bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Chan!”

“I said quiet!” Chan yells, sparing you a glance and your brows creased with worry as the woman holds up a second finger, and Chan’s hand grips the wheel as the other rests over the buttons.

She doesn’t hold up a third finger. Instead, she throws down the red cloth, and the moment she does so, Chan is off on the road. His foot slammed against the gas as he pushed his back against the seat and used one hand to effortlessly steer. You feel so impossibly scared in the car. A small part of you was debating whether or not you should have gone home, but you knew that it was the right decision to stay. To truly understand what’s been going on and what this is all about.

You try your best not to scream as the loud engine nearly bursts your eardrums.

“Chan… Chan, stop the car!” You scream, the need to vomit creeping up, even though you try to gulp it down.

“I can’t, (Y/N). I really can’t right now.” He says loudly over the engine.

“Please, Chan, just stop the car…!” You yell out again, and Chan finally glances at you, seeing your distressed look before his head snaps ahead again.

His hand swiftly reaches over to grip your thigh, as if trying to prove that you’re secure, “Calm down, (Y/N). You’ll be fine. We’re fine. I’m not stopping the car. Sorry, but I just can’t.”

“I should hate you for this, Chan!” You say, and you can see the way his knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel. “But I can’t… I just… Goddamn it, why!?”

“I can’t tell you that right now!” He yells back, looking over briefly before making a sharp turn, making you clutch onto the seat belt for protection, his hand now back over the buttons, “You just need to sit there until this is over, got it? I don’t care how scared you are, you’re gonna get through it like the strong woman you are, (Y/N), and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You look over to Chan, and his lips are downturned, his brows furrowed and his eyes glossed over, as if he could cry right there.

“But why didn’t you just tell me?! We wouldn’t be like this right now if you just told me, Chan, and that’s the truth.” You yell over the engine, and Chan bitterly and breathily chuckles, shaking his head as an angry smile casts over his lips.

“You wouldn’t have stayed with me if I told you, (Y/N), you know that.” His voice is a little softer. If any softer, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You would’ve left me.”

Your mouth falls open, and you shake your head, “Never… Never! Never, ever, accuse me of that. I would never leave you even if you killed a man, Chan, and that’s the truth!” He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns another sharp corner, and you can see the other cars following behind, closing in. He sees it, too, and he presses some buttons you didn’t bother reading and slams his foot on the gas again. You let out a deep breath, still clutching the seat belt, “I just want to know why, Chan. Why are you resulting to this even though you have a stable job at the entertainment company, I-... I just want you to be honest with me.”

“I’ll tell you later, (Y/N). Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. I need to focus or we’ll fucking crash, you got it!” He yells, and you flinch at his harsh tone. Finally keeping quiet.

The race seems like it lasts forever, when it was probably only five minutes. With sharp twists and turns and screeching of the engine in wheels, it feels like torture. You hate this, but there’s no backing out yet.

Chan doesn’t utter a word. Only cursing at the other cars when they do something that they weren’t supposed to do, or somehow start catching up to him. You let a few tears slip as you watch his hands and Chan as he focuses solely on the road. The lump in your throat is growing bigger and bigger, and swallowing it down seems to get more and more difficult.

But, it’s over at some point. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Chan finally slowed down after reaching a pathetic excuse of a finish line. Your trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie you were wearing as Chan comes to a steady stop. People come cheering as the other three cars pull up behind, being careful not to bump into anyone from the crowd. You breath heavily, and look over to Chan, who rolls down his window, plastering a triumphant smile on his lips.

“I don’t even get why I race against you, mate. You always win. Just take the money and get outta here,” says one of the racers playfully, tossing Chan a briefcase through the window.

“Thanks man. Good race,” Chan says, “Now, I have business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”

He rolls up the window, and the man who handed Chan the briefcase smacks the window playfully as Chan rushes off, his smile instantly vanishing as he goes through backgrounds to try and get to a main road without drawing too much attention. Chan’s smile drops, and he hands you the briefcase.

“You want to know so badly? Open it and be careful. It’ll be hell to clean up if you drop it,” Chan grumbles, looking over as you look to him for reassurance. He only gives you a cocked brow as you look back to the case in your lap before unlocking it and opening it. Your jaw falls as you look at the thousands of bills stacked on top of each other, rubber bands holding equal stacks together, and you gawk at just how much money Chan won from one race.

After a minute of you staring at the money, Chan slams the case closed in your lap, locking it with one hand and tossing it in the backseat making you jump at how hasty he is.

You both sit there, Chan driving to god knows where in tense silence. You're holding your head in your hands as Chan shifted his gaze between you and the road.

It’s about fifteen minutes until you look up, surprised that he’s still driving and nowhere near home. It’s an emptier city, but Chan seems to know the area well.

“Chan, where are we?” You ask, but Chan gives no answer. Only driving a bit further before pulling into an alley between two old buildings. “Chan, I said -”

You were quickly by Chan yanking off his seatbelt and leaning over the center console to firmly grab your face and pull you into a rough kiss. It isn’t too rushed, but it’s not at all gentle. You’re caught by surprise at first, but couldn’t help melting into it. It’s almost instinct at this point to kiss him back, but you push him away after a moment. “What… What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Chan answers briefly before grabbing locks of your hair at the back of your head and pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let it slam against the car as it flies off you.

“No, Chan… We need to talk,” You grumble out as you try to pull away, and he presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of your mouth. His eyes are fluttered shut, and your’s are half lidded. You will admit, you love this. The kisses and how unnaturally aggressive Chan is being. But, you knew that you have to talk things out, or you’d never get to figure out how the hell things turned out like this, “Chan, I’m serious right now.”

“Then relax, baby,” Chan breathily whispers out, and your thighs squeeze together, “Let me make things up to you, okay? I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” He pulls away for a moment, and he stares at you with a teasing smirk, “Think of it as my apology, alright?”

“Chan, I’m… I’m - ah! Chan!” You gasp when Chan’s lips come in contact with the side of your neck. Your neck is already tilting to give him more room, despite trying pathetically to push him away. There’s no getting through to him anymore. You’ve passed the point of no return, and there’s not much you could get past him without slapping him again. And that didn’t seem like a very good idea to you. Your hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the other loosely clutching the hem of his button up.

“You know that… ah… that we are going to talk about this at some point…” you groan out, and Chan only groans against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “You can’t get out of it like this…”

“Shut it, (Y/N),” Chan snaps, and your head falls back. Chan leans his seat back, aggressively grabbing you by the thighs to pull you over and sit on top of him. Straddling his waist despite it being such a tight environment. He pulls you down by the hoodie, into another kiss. You could feel how frustrated Chan is by the way he grips you tightly, as if you’re going to magically vanish, and by how he talks to you.

It’s rushed, too. Chan is impossibly quick to pull up your hoodie, his hot, sweaty hands creeping up your warm back, caressing it with a different, quick sense of gentleness. His lips connect with yours once again. His tongue already pressing against your lips. The quick, sloppy kiss all too lust filled. The erotic sounds coming from the both of you almost making you gloss over the fact that you should still be very mad at Chan. But, you just can’t find the need to pull away from him. You need to let off the steam, too.

You flush your body firm against him, one hand on his chest and the other by his head, holding onto the head of the seat for support. Breathing as slowly as you can through your nose to savor the air Chan so selfishly takes from you from the heated kiss. Your thoughts begin to vanish and your worry and concern for Chan’s life choices begin to falter for the time being. So immersed in the heated kiss to forget about it entirely. All your focus is now on Chan. You can tell how stressed he is, and the loving part of you wants to help him let off that steam. But, now, you’re in the same boat. So, he’s going to have to do so much for you as you’ve been doing for him.

Chan’s hands don’t bother to hesitate before they loop underneath your jeans, not caring to unbutton them as he tries his best to pull them off by himself. Because of how restricted you both are because of the size of the car, you had to do it yourself. You parted from the kiss and pressed your head against his shoulder to unbutton your jeans and pull them down as quickly as you could before throwing them in the back (along with your shoes and socks. You can already see how hard Chan’s gotten as his rough hands massage and knead your ass, only covered by the thin, black cloth keeping you at least somewhat covered. But, if this was like any other time, they’d be gone quicker than you’d imagine.

Your hands fly up again once your pants are thrown to the back, resting on either side of Chan’s head as he grips your hips, grinding your womanhood against his clothed hardon (you’re also clothed, but it’s so wet from your juices that it basically attaches itself to your skin). His head throws itself back, his eyes closing and a pleasure filled smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You press yourself against him, now propped up to be looming over him, sitting on him.

When you do press against him, his head snaps forward again, and his dark eyes glare up at you, “Don’t start getting proud, (Y/N). I’m gonna fucking break you.” His hand crawls up to grip your face in his hand. One of your hands weakly comes up to grip his wrist. His hand moving down to grip your throat, and your lips part blissfully as his fingers press into the sides of your neck, still allowing airflow through you. “Oh, fuck. You like being choked, huh? You like being choked like a slut don’t you?” You don’t answer, too nervous to and too caught up in the pleasure to actually let something other than a moan escape your lips.

“Talk to me, (Y/N). Use your fucking words,” Chan growls, and you swallow. The lump in your throat pressing painfully, yet blissfully against Chan’s hand.

“Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me…” You utter out his name, and Chan’s brow raises. But, he smirks nonetheless and lets go of your neck, and you let out a breath as he undoes his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. His hand palming his clothed cock briefly before pulling it out. His hard dick already leaking with precum.

“Condom…” You mutter, and Chan shakes his head. You look up to him with worry.

“Trust me, baby,” he mutters, and you sigh, leaning against him, pressing your body against his as Chan moves your panties out of the way before he aligns your throbbing cunt with his dick, and slowly pushing himself into you, raw. As his raw cock slowly becomes engulfed by your heat, Chan lets out low groans. Your face nuzzles into the side of his neck as Chan slowly guides you down until you’re sitting on his cock.

At first, he stays there like that. Not moving. You suspect it’s because the sane part of him wants you to get used to the feeling of his cock so deep in you without a condom, but Chan seems to keep you there for a few moments just for the sake of how good it feels without a condom. The way his head is leaned back, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes fluttered shut.

But, it doesn’t last long before Chan’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you up and starts ramming into you. His hips move so quickly, yet so efficiently as he burns your wet walls. You erupt in a series of loud moans, mixtures of Chan’s name and curses spilling out, too. Chan groans sometimes, right next to your ear. The sound of skin slapping against the fabric of Chan’s boxers echoing through the air tight car.

Your pussy burns from how fast Chan thrusts into you, keeping you at a steady position so he could have an easier time ramming himself into you without the difficulty of it being such a confined and restrictive place in the car (especially in the driver’s seat). The burn is so good for you, though. It’s such a numbing, euphoric feeling that you’ll crave later. A type of burn you could never provide yourself, only Chan.

Chan’s hands go from gripping your body to sliding up your side to gripping your hair and yanking your head back so he could look at you. A judgemental, sexy smirk adorning his lips as he sees how fucked out you are. Your mouth open as you moan, and your half lidded eyes occasionally closing from the bliss.

“Fucking hell… you’re so good for me, (Y/N). You take my cock so fucking well, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan as Chan’s hand grips harder on your hair, craning your neck. “Mmm… Baby girl can’t even talk to me… I know I said to shut it…” he laughs darkly through his moans, and your moans get louder when Chan lets go of your hair, letting your face fall back onto his shoulder as his hands grip your ass. Kneading them as he fucks himself into you. You clench helplessly around his cock.

“Oh… fuck, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You wanna cum around my cock, baby girl?” You nod frantically, your climax climbing up as you push your body back to meet with Chan’s aggressive thrusts. Your overstimulated cunt only being destroyed by Chan’s cock as he thrusts harder into you, his hips staggering slightly as you clench around him. “Mmm! - Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Chan growls out as his hand grips your face again, forcing your head up as your eyes roll into the back of your head, a loud string of moans escaping your lips as you cum all over Chan’s cock, and he pulls out just quick enough to spurt out a string of cum along your ass.

He lets go of your face, and you breath heavily as you rest your head on Chan’s chest, closing your eyes to catch your breath. A burning sensation still resting in your core as you relax, your womanhood’s muscles contracting every now and then from the orgasm.

Chan cleans you both up with a napkin he had in the center console and helped you put your jeans back on (deciding to toss your soiled panties) and he slipped his jeans back on silently. It’s not until you’re sitting on his lap, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he speaks.

“You know I love you so much, right?” Chan mumbles out, and you look up to him. “I was so mean to you today… when you must’ve been so confused.” His head falls back, and he looks out the window with a longing look in his eyes, “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. Don’t even think things like that. Yes, I am still a bit upset, but you know what? We’re going to get past this because I love you, too, Channie.” You stare at him with an adoring expression adorning your sparkling eyes (trying to ignore the burning in your core).

“You… You want to know the real reason I’m a street racer, (Y/N)? Why the fuck I'm doing this?” Chan asks softly, his hand stroking your hair.

“If you could… I’ve been asking all day,” you chuckle softly, and Chan smiles bitterly.

“Well… I… I’m doing this all for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“No job will pay for the things I want to give you, (Y/N).” He turns over, reaching into the center console to pull out a black box, and your eyes widen as he opens it. You can’t see it, but you can barely see the sparkle of a something reflective. “I… I couldn’t pay for this myself. I knew I couldn’t. I hate how this is how I’m asking you… but, (Y/N), will you-”

“Oh my god, yes!”