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cannellee · 2 months ago

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TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

୨୧ yandere! alpha! kazutora x omega! reader

synopsis: kazutora is utterly obssessed with you and turns yandere once you start hanging out with other people. but what happens when he goes too far...?

cw : bullying, manipulation, controlling/possessive behaviour, r@pe attempt (not kazutora), assault, angst to comfort?

note : I'm so so sorry for not posting for nearly 2ish months🙏 here's a little something that was sitting in my drafts for a while now, hope you'll like it! I'll try to get back to posting stuff before the end of the year!!

note 2 : I recently read a lot of fics with omega drop inside and I wanted to give it a try!! I'm so unhappy with how the end turned out, but I can't think of anything else to write soo... + it's so rushed, pls don't hate me🙏

MY MASTERLIST: ★

just imagine bully!kazutora, who decides to attend school regularly just to see his favourite omega every day!

he develops this weird obsession for you and can't stop himself from thinking about you 24/7. at first he's talking to you in the most casual way he can, asking you about school homework, what food you had for lunch...

you don't find him repulsive at all despite the rumours : he isn't violent and overwhelming despite his affiliation to a gang. so you engage in small conversations with him, almost finding yourself in a secluded space with just the two of you more often than you can remember. but kazutora has been nothing but a nice alpha with you! so you let your guard down.

his mean behaviour didn't start until the summer break. you discovered yourself and gained confidence, going out more and discussing with more people than you used to.

when kazutora was one of the rare people occupying your already tiny social circle, he now was one friend among so many. of course he had that special place in your heart, but how could he know ? regardless, it wasn't enough for kazutora.

he felt a burning jealousy consuming him wholeheartedly whenever you gave that new friend of yours more attention than him.

you used to be so shy and awkward, timidly walking up to him in hopes he'll talk to you. now kazutora has to witness his omega act like a social butterfly, smiling and hugging others like it's no big deal.

he's fuming. he doesn't want the thousand girls fanning over him and he couldn't care less about the people gathering around him to try and befriend him.

no, kazutora fell for you first and wants nothing more than your precious bubbly self for him to see only. what do you mean you have to cut short your daily walks home because some nobody invited you to the library ?

kazutora lives that as a betrayal and can't even fathom the idea of you slowly slipping away from him. he just had to do something. he felt sick to his stomach just thinking about you with someone else, about some alpha making moves even though he didn't even get the chance to properly kiss you or hold your hand.

but kazutora is smart. kazutora is charismatic. kazutora is an alpha with a sweet and charming smile. his bad reputation flew over people's heads whenever he flashed them his signature smile followed by his sugar-coated words.

you didn't think much about it when some people started avoiding you, interacting with you less and less. those were the ones you only made small talks with once in a while.

some started to throw you weird looks, whispering after you passed in front of them to join your locker. you frowned a bit, but no harm was done so you shrugged it off.

it was all too progressive to be a coincidence. first the rumours, then the physical bothering and finally, people outward causing you abuse.

it was scary and off-putting how everyone seemed to have turned their back on you, bullying you like you never laughed together just a month ago.

you pondered and questioned yourself, absolutely clueless about the unfair treatment. you now came to school with an unbearable pit to your stomach, scared as to what other students would come up with today.

while some deliberately left your side and bothered you for a couple of days, they soon got bored and simply proceeded to ignore you. but there was this particular friend group, which seemed adamant to keep persecuting you under any circumstances.

a few betas and alphas, everyday pushing you to the edge, cornering you in the empty locker room and tormenting you or literally destroying your belonging when you had your back turned.

it was all too much. everyone just disappeared from your life and you were left with a growing fear and apprehension. your usual vanilla scent was reduced to ashes, barely present, meanwhile you kept your mouth shut most of the time, sometimes even going days without talking to anyone at all.

it took a toll on your mental health, your instincts not fit for such a lonely life. you were made to be cajoled and appreciated, to enjoy life and make your loved ones happy.

you didn't have anyone anymore. you tried a few times to catch your closest friends in the hallway whenever you saw them pass before you, but none of them spared you a glance, hurriedly mumbling apologies before looking around them with fear in their eyes.

nothing made sense anymore. not even kazutora, who you thought was a genuine friend, helped you. he still attended school with an impressive diligence, you caught him sometimes talking to your bullies whenever the six of them ate together during lunch.

you had taken the habit to spend your lunchtime at the back of the school, far from everyone. you enjoyed those moment sof peace, even being able to keep an eye on them from where you were. you coul easily spot them without you being visible.

kazutora towered over them like a self-proclaimed leader, while they all listened to him with respect. kazutora was far stronger than them and could simply order them around the way he'd like.

you often wondered why he would take part in such a horrible thing, tormenting you as if you actually deserved it. what surprised you was how he seemed to never actually commit those said acts himself, making you even question if he was behind it all.

still, you kept your distance from him. your own feeling of betrayal hanging heavy in your mind at kazutora's indifference towards you.

· · ୨୧ · ·

you fell on your butt after a particularly mean push to your shoulder. you looked up, wide-eyed and scared, the sound of laughter entering your ears as you watched their smirk deepen.

you hung out later than usual at the library, studying until it was all but dark outside. you carefully packed your stuff without any worries, not expecting anyone at this hour.

but to your luck, the same exact people were there, waiting for you like a pack of starved hyenas. you pushed past them, hoping that would keep them from bothering you any further, their sadistic urges already satisfied.

their pheromones felt especially menacing tonight, you didn't know if it was your mind playing tricks, feeling more vulnerable than ever now that you were all on your own and exhausted.

your instincts exhorted you to flee from here when they grabbed your shoulder to make you turn around. you couldn't dare look up, their sickening laughs doing enough to make you beyond scared.

they trashed you around, taking pleasure in your lack of power, your optimistic self easily defeated by the days spent in fear and anxiety. you instinctively reacted to their scents, your limbs automatically shaking, mind cloudy, trying its best to protect itself.

you could only cry pitifully when one of them threw you, forcing you to make contact with the floor once again. and when his eyes lingered over your figure in a predatory gaze, a smirk streching his lips and his tongue passing over it, you felt your blood run cold.

you searched for any ounce of humanity in his friends' eyes, hoping they'll realise that they were going too far and eventually call out the alpha. finding none, you felt yourself slipping awat by the second, your senses way too overly stimulated by their treatment.

you cried harder, his hands feeling like knives digging into your flesh, a ruthless attempt at stripping you away from what little dignity you had left.

he sat on top of you, his weight forcing a few coughs out of you, unable to breathe properly. he continued his assault comfortably, his friends cheering him on with no regard to how your whole world went crashing down in this exact moment, all your strenght abandoning you, unable to fight anymore.

your mind went blank, trying so hard to process what had just happened to you when you felt one of his friend pull him off of you. mumbling something about kazutora and telling the alpha that they scared you enough.

he reluctantly agreed with an angry growl and a condescending slap to your cheek, knowing kazutora was far too scary to go further with his omega. he mockingly barked at you to be grateful, but you couldn't hear him, nor could you move.

you simply laid there, a pool of tears clouding your vision, tiny and pathetic cries leaving your soar throat. you couldn't protect yourself from the unshakable feeling of terror and helplessness and nobody was there to give you support.

you really were all on your own.

· · ୨୧ · ·

you woke up in the softness of your nest, memories blurry and confused, yet all your senses vividly alert. the blankets and pillows were in a mess, mascara smeared across your cheeks, your high-school uniform still on and furiously torn apart, and the smell of blood floating in the air.

after dragging yourself back to your home, you had used all your remaining strenght and could no longer move. yesterday was your last straw and all you could do was lay on your side, head pounding from all the crying and feeling like a lifeless doll.

you felt like a stranger in your own body, unable to shake off the overwhelming fear. you couldn't find any source of solace, your nest wasn't even yours anymore, it felt foreign. you didn't feel safe anywhere.

you slowly let your thoughts consume you.

you couldn't do it, you weren't brave enough, strong enough. you had been able to handle it for the first few months but you felt yourself fall deeper into this nightmare and your were afraid you would never be able to get out of it.

kazutora didn't think much about your absence at school today, he was visibly disappointed to not be able to see his favourite omega, but didn't pry too much.

after a day turned into two, then three and then almost twoweeks now, he grew more and more concerned. he was agitated, pissed off by the situation, skipping classes the second he didn't see you there. he tried calling you multiple times a day, left you a hundred of messages and despite the strangeness of his sudden concern for you, he had expected you'd answer them, or at least read them. but you didn't.

he was left in the dark and was surprised at himself to have let you flee his eyes for this much time, almost instinctively sensing the abnormal urgency in your absenteeism. he had consulted those meaningless people he used to isolate you, kazutora was such a threat on his own that he was sure they couldn't have possibly lied straight to his face. or is it that they've took it too far ? kazutora knew he had warned them about it, scaring you was fine, tormenting you was fine, anything beyong that was like asking for death.

he found himself at you doorstep the same exact day, a plastic bag full of various medicines just in case. he knocked, waited, but heard nothing. he tried smelling you through the cracks, your heat scent usually so strong it literally slips from under. but he sensed nothing, comfirming you had no academically right reason to not attend school for such a long period of time.

he called your name, screamed it in desperation, banged on your door to try and stir up some movement from inside, but everything was dreadfully calm.

a million thoughts went through kazutora's mind when he broke into your home. he breathed in your familiar scent, the same one that instantly made him feel all sorts of things the way no other omega ever did. he took a minute to observe his surroundings, smiling at how cute and friendly you had decorated your place. despite the unusual darkness, it was indeed very charming. kazutora thought it suited you very well.

when he kept going further into the hallway, a strange feeling flooded his body. despite his excitement to finally see your face after two weeks, he somehow felt anxious. he didn't know what to expect. had you finally crumbled under the pressure of having no one by your side ? did kazutora break you enough that you'd seek comfort near anyone who would offer you a helping hand, even if that person was him ?

oh how did he want to have you all for himself once again, to have you back in his arms, talking to him with your shy eyes, teeth biting your lips in nervousness and too intimidated to even think about leaving his side.

what sight awaited him inside your room? will you welcome him, tears of relief and happiness flooding your eyes upon seeing someone care about you? after all this time of fighting alone, fending for yourself like a frail lamb when your whole purpose was to rely on others ?

kazutora couldn't wait to become your saviour, to chase away those annoying people who had dared mess with you, even if it was all his fault. you just would have to give him one word, one proof of affection and he'll immediately be on his way to teach them a lesson.

he opened your door, feeling entitled to do so without even asking. he frenetically searched for you, nose instantly trying to pick up your sweet scent. you were curled up between a pile of blankets, frame shaking and your fists desperately clutching the fabric.

he frowned slightly, yet still unaware of the alarming state you were in and approached you slowly. he smiled when he took notice of the teddy bear he had gifted you a few months prior, his chest warming up with pride upon seeing how hard it was pressed against your chest.

he gently called your name, nudging you just a little bit to get you to open your eyes. not wanting to scare you, he made himself as small as possible, voice barely above a whisper and movements as slow as he could.

but you couldn't move an inch and kazutora soon realised that your whole body was burning up, and not from a heat. he checked your forehead, watched how your breathing was weak despite being shaky and finally took in the terrifyingly rotten smell of your scent, nothing like he had expected upon entering your room.

although delusional, his instincts couldn't ignore and misinterpret the distressed pheromones your whole body emitted. reacting immediately to them, he softly caressed your face, removed you from inside the covers and took your worn out body in his arms.

he tried stimulating you by saying your name as kindly as possible, his own body burning up from the stress and creeping guilt slowly consuming him after linking everything together. was that the consequences of his actions? he looked at your face, torn with pain and fear, noticing with horror the purple bruise on your wrist and the equally awful red marks on your neck and arms, some even bleeding.

he showered you with his own pheromones, using nature's ways to force you into a calmer state.

what has he done? was it all his fault? he should've known you weren't this brave and should've known you'd need him sooner. he should've taken the hint and go to you instead of observing you slowly falling apart and delaying the moment when he'd finally come at your rescue.

he watched as you slowly but surely came back to him, eyes blinking up at him, unable to comprehend what was going on. you were all dopey and insanely fragile, your mental state on the verge of a cliff, threatening to fall if you were to be feeling any bit of discomfort.

· · ୨୧ · ·

surpringly enough, you had warmed up to kazutora faster than he had expected. when anxiety plagued you with its torments, he was the one you instinctively reached out to, his scent carrying a sense of comfort and safety.

it was unfair how he could prevent your mind from torturing you any further when he was the primary culprit. you weren't even able to get a full night of rest because of it, and now you were accorded sleep because he decided it was best for you.

he literally drugged you with his pheromones during the period you were more than vulnerable, unable to take care of yourself. breathing in kazutora's scent whenever you felt down and distressed, had you assimilating it with something close to a safe place.

when you first woke up in his embrace after falling asleep to the sound of his apologies, you tore yourself away from his arms. you trying to move with what little strength you could muster forced his own eyes open, his hand, too quick to not be a reflex, caught your waist, keeping you against his chest.

"let go of me," you whispered after trying to pry yourself away from him, gripping his forearm, desperately wishing to make him move.

"y/n..."

"I said let go of me kazutora. why are you even here ?" cutting him off, you looked at him angrily, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

the pained stare he was met with was enough to make him regret all his actions. sheer betrayal was written all over your face and the scent which once brought you comfort, now only made you uncomfortable. he was too close. his hands tangled with your waist and wrists... you were scared of what they could do to you. he was holding you too tightly. he was afraid you would disappear.

"kazutora, you're hurting me. just what exactly do you want and how did you get in ?" he quickly let go of you, muttering a few awkward apologies.

"...how did you get those bruises ?" he asked after a long silence, partially pleased you weren't ordering him to leave anymore and relieved you didn't push the topic of his intrusion any further.

"keep playing dumb and I might actually get really angry" you had pushed yourself up, refusing kazutora's help and was now sitting, glaring at him.

"please y/n, I assure you I don't know anything. I wouldn't have let anyone hurt you like this..." you chuckled half-heartedly, looking at kazutora's pleading eyes with contempt in yours. you could tell he was taken aback with how things were turning out with how he grabbed your arm softly, as if begging you to please believe him.

"ask your friends, I'm sure they'd love to tell you all the details about what they did."

and with that, you turned your back on him, tired of talking to him who acted like nothing was his fault, as if he hadn't played a huge role in how people treated you.

you were too tired to curse at him and yell for him to get out of your sight, you fell asleep in almost a few minutes this day, not caring if kazutora had anything to tell you or if he was even still there, invading your nest and taking up all the space like he was used to when it came to you.

· · ୨୧ · ·

upon your confession, kazutora was seeing red, rage fully consuming his body and abandoning him to a state of pure instincts.

he stayed still, observing your steady breathing and the mess he had caused because of his jealousy, hands shaking at the sight of your injured body.

he made sure one last time that you were covered with his pheromones, which, no matter how much you hated them, helped you calm down a bit and have a good night rest like you needed.

he got up, barricaded your door that was slightly broken and left you alone in your apartment, ready to pay a visit to those people he had used to get what he wanted.

you've always been fragile, your nature shaping you to be more delicate than him, but never had he ever seen you this weak and defeated. although he had his response in your current state, he promised himself he would redeem himself, vowing to protect you just like he should've.

and it all starts now, by getting rid of the ones who thought they could go as far as laying a hand on you.

when he came back, he let out a relieved sigh seeing you hadn't move. he threw his now slightly red t-shirt on the floor and went back to your side, pleased with what he did and happy there were a few less threats for you out there.

he kissed your naked shoulder and fell asleep, inhaling your sweet scent he craved so much and swore nothing bad would ever happen again.

kazutora would make sure of it...

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eldritch-spouse · 3 months ago

Note

Thought of a Meet cute with Vorago. We are walking and reading a human x demon romance book. We almost walk into traffic and Vorago pulls us out of harm's way. We look up at him and thank him for saving us with all the adoration in our heart. He's going to write a fic of this 100% guaranteed.

[50/50 chance you knock into each other and swap interspecies smut books.]

[Fem reader.]

Vorago wishes he liked going to the surface more.

Really, he should. It's where a lot of his future business will be conducted, and he won't always be summoned to his target locations. Therefore, it's integral to his status that the prince not only find his way around without help but also maintain his air of infernal royal descent. This task is easy enough to achieve, and he certainly doesn't mind the change in scenery, being surrounded by so many humans even.

The problem lies in his conservative conduct. Vorago isn't allowed to interact with strangers more than he must, he shouldn't approach things outside his defined goals, so as to reduce the possibility of scandals and failure. Not only that, his standard appearance already puts off a lot of people from speaking to him, the attitude he must uphold pretty much ensures he's given a wide berth wherever he goes. Much too wide. It's an isolating experience.

He remembers when he was a clumsy hatchling, clinging to his mother's tail when the two of them ventured into the surface buzz. Sure, Queen Vorticia would have to eventually hold him by a horn, but before such, he was free to march his way to any human and ask them to play games with him. The memories alone put a smile on his face.

This is precisely why Vorago's favorite moments on the surface are when he's surrounded by busy people. People who are simply too distracted, too in their own bubble, to even register his presence, much less distance themselves.

He's been behind you for a few minutes.

Not because he chose to, you just happen to be walking the same paths.

So engrossed in your little book, you're hardly looking where you're going. Vorago knows the feeling, many times have the hours slipped past him while he bent over a desk and devoured endless pages. He had to be shaken off it by his siblings frequently, disoriented and embarrassed.

All three eyes strain to get a better view of the words on those two pages.

What are you reading? Is it fiction? Educational content? Maybe you're a student. History? Crime thriller? Drama? Sci-fi? Romance...? He can't even get a glimpse of the cover, at least not without encroaching upon your personal bubble.

Mild disappointment flashes on the prince's face.

He's just close enough to be politely curious, to catch a whiff of your scent, but that's about it.

You may not be attentive to the environment around you, but other people certainly are. The crowd slightly ahead of you hastens to catch the last few seconds of a soundless pedestrian green light. Predictably, you don't.

Right as green becomes red, impatient vehicles have already began picking up speed, your body about to resemble that of an impact dummy in a matter of seconds.

Vorago acts on reflex mostly.

Many times has he had to be the one yanking younger baby sisters and brothers from certain injury, so the prince hardly thinks before wrapping his claws around the collar of your shirt and pulling.

It was a harsh pull, definitely. Measuring strength was the last thing on the glutton's mind when he acted. The force of it doesn't just launch you back, away from the zooming cars now passing by, it also causes you to lose balance, scream, and land right on your ass.

Your personal belongings fly just about everywhere, and Vorago's focus breaks enough that he feels somewhat guilty now.

" I'm incredibly sorry. " He blurts out, a hand reaching out towards your panicked self.

You seem frantic, quickly trying to crouch and pick up your phone, keys, wallet. " N- No no, I just- " Finally, you look up.

And the look on your face says you expected quite literally anyone, except him.

He can't even interpret it at first. Is it a good kind of shock? A bad one? He understands he's rather large compared to a human, and plenty of monsters out there, but you're giving him nothing to work with. Your cheeks look warm, a much too long second passes.

You're quite beautiful up close.

" I'm okay! "

The volume of your sudden input makes his head flinch back, ears flicking. Vorago watches you drop your phone a couple of times before shaky hands finally manage to collect everything and you're standing, awkwardly.

" I uhm- " Your head veers to the traffic, then back. Beneath all the nerves, there's something like naked admiration in your expression, as if Vorago were some fantastical entity. " Thank you so much, you probably saved my life there. "

Probably?

The prince smiles, nodding, trying to make the situation as natural as it can be. " Don't mention it, ma'am, I'm just pleased you're safe. "

Something about that made your eyes widen, you look even more frantic now. He barely gets a word in when the light turns green once more, with you preparing to nearly sprint away.

" R-Right. Thanks. "

Vorago is about to walk as well, not all that eager to stop the conversation, when his foot brushes an object, causing him to reflexively glance at what he identifies as your book.

He picks it up fast. " Ma'am, your... "

When he straightens, you're already quite a distance ahead, walking decidedly fast and harshly tapping away at your screen.

" ... Book. "

Something about the cover feels weird. The glutton strolls forward with the thing in hand, indulging his curiosity while he flips it around.

'Unlocking The Quiet Mind, Exercises to find clarity and mindfulness within yourself'

Ah, self-help books. He's read a few. Lord knows today's world could use the time to reflect and find balance.

When he prepares to flip open the first few pages, the cover crinkles, making him frown. That's not natural. He moves it around some, eventually making it slip down.

Oh.

Vorago removes the fake plastic protection.

Oh.

'The Eclipse Pact, Tethered by blood and soul'

He nearly chokes.

This, is the real book. The actual cover consists of a woman in what seems to be a forested area, below a solar eclipse. She kneels before an inaccurate summoning circle in nothing more than a flowing nightgown, ritual utensils beside her, shocked and flustered by the presence of a demon confidently emerging from said circle.

He can feel his claws tightening onto the book, a rabid wave of excitement making the glutton's body become furnace-like, hair standing. He finds the back.

'Soon after moving out, Eliza Winters inherits a summoning book from her recently departed distant grandmother, detailing a ritual that, when performed during a solar eclipse, brings forth an infernal companion devoted entirely to her service. She never expected it to work, much less that she would now have to house a charming yet secretive demon who claims he will do anything to gain her favor for seemingly no reason. As she attempts to navigate her newfound reality, tensions and nosy family members highlight curious similarities between them. Can Eliza believe this infatuated summon? Are they meant to be, or are they now stuck together until the next few eclipses?'

The prince starts laughing to himself, trying to control his volume when a grin as wide and toothy as a lion's paints his complexion.

It's not that this is a particularly original story premise, it's that you were reading it.

No wonder you were panicking.

Wildly overjoyed, Vorago bolts his head every direction he can, desperate to find you again.

It's unsightly for a royal to be sprinting in public, but when the high-ranker recognizes the top of your head in a crowd, he doesn't hold back, nearly shoving past people.

He doesn't even know what he'll say when he catches up, he just knows he has to find you.

It's too perfect.

#Vorago oc #monster boyfriend #monster x reader

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ipegchangbin · 1 year ago

Text

— heavy lifting

sub!gym buddy!changbin x dom!personal trainer!reader | 8.1k words

♡ … sequel to uplifting After Changbin’s gotten too comfortable around the gym, you needed to remind him of his place. You’re his significant other, sure, but you’re still his personal trainer — and his training is only getting even more personal.

❥ gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics). smut. fluff. established relationship. pure porn, no plot. ❥ bratty perv changbin. petnames “baby,” “coach,” “rat,” and “bun”/“bunny,” semi-public unprotected sex, anal creampie (reader receiving), fingering (changbin receiving), strength kink (headlock), no specifics about y/n’s physique—but y/n is strong.

📝 happy new year bitch!!! i finally fucking finished The self-indulgent fic!!! header art by ME! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

You and your client — now boyfriend — Changbin were getting ready to go to the gym. Staring at your bathroom mirror together, he flexed his arms as he hugged you close to his body.

One look at the man and you can tell he’s changed.

He’s far from the man you met a year ago, the boy with a thick build that shyly signed you up as his personal trainer. He used to close his big body into itself every time he wasn’t trying to impress you. Shy as he was with you, his crush, Changbin was also confident whenever he had the opportunity to try and make you swoon.

Now that he got you in his arms, you all his and him all yours, he’s a lot more toned now and a lot more open.

You got very clear glimpses of his personality at the gym, but dating him officially was like opening a gate and welcoming yourself into his colorful world. It didn’t take too long to find out that he works as a lifestyle journalist, but it took many months more to find out that his side gig is working as a talent manager for some small-time DJ named CB or something. Whoever that guy is, your boyfriend claims that he’s just as shy as your coworker Chris, hence why he doesn’t show up often.

Changbin opened up more of his life to you just as you gave lots of your life to him. Every date extended from the gym to the cafe next to it, from fancy restaurants in each of your hometowns to humble home-cooked dinners at either his or your apartments. He stutters less and he’s more giggly around you, while you’re definitely not your usual strict self when it comes to cuddles in his bed.

You two allowed your lives to meld into each other and bond, mix in, and create one shared universe that you can both breathe in. He loved you and you loved him and that never seems to end anywhere.

But it all starts at the gym, you figured, and it always goes back there; he hasn’t signed out of being your client and technically still pays you to help him work out.

“Y/N,” he said with a smile on his face. “Wait first, please? I’m not ready to go to the gym yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and struggled to look back as his arms engulfed you. “First time I’ve ever heard that from you. Why?”

Changbin is always more than eager to go to the gym, so the request set you back. He giggled and you could feel his chest pump against your back. He smiled at your figure in the mirror.

“What are you plotting?” You squinted your eyes back at his reflection. Changbin smiled dumbly in response.

You almost asked again until he leaned down to kiss your cheek from the side. It wasn’t a peck at all, his lips solidly planted on the apple of your cheek for a bit longer than two seconds, and it ended with an audible smooch at the pucker of his lips.

“Heh. I love you, bun.”

The smile on his face returned bigger and brighter. His cheeks heated up and his ears turned incredibly red at his own actions even if he was supposed to leave you melting; well, you were, definitely relaxing in the hold of his biceps at the simple display of affection.

But you’re stronger than him, at least emotionally, and he knows that.

“That was it?” You faked dissatisfaction in your tone and it turned him back into the shy guy you met a year ago. “Gonna delay your gym appointment for just a little kiss?”

His eyes didn’t leave your figure in your bathroom mirror. Changbin’s body heated up and you could feel every bit of him collapse slightly as he stared at your face.

To him, you’re still as handsome and as pretty as the time he met you, if not significantly more beautiful now than ever. Even when you were intimidating.

“I don’t think my coach minds if I’m late,” he attempted a smirk.

Changbin grabbed your wrists with a swiftness and held them against your back. Holding them with two hands, he made sure that you were unable to separate your arms, teasing you with one of his strength displays.

“Coach probably wouldn’t mind, especially when they’re late too.”

He wasn’t just planning on locking your hands there. He was feeling bold and you could feel it in the strong hold of his hands against yours.

But you’re physically stronger than he is.

You raised your arms and his hands together over your head, catching Changbin off-guard, twisting your wrists and your body so that you finally faced him. With his hands in the air, you grabbed him by his wrists this time, holding your shocked boyfriend’s hands together and slamming his frozen body against the wall.

You had his hands over his head, locking him in a far more vulnerable position. A blush ran through the apples of his cheeks and painted his ears red. He looked most delicious with his eyes wide open, mouth hung ajar, and pretty little head racing endlessly with thoughts.

“And what makes you think your coach would excuse this unnecessary tardiness?” You asked him with an ear-to-ear grin and half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not saying they’d…allow it…” Changbin bit his bottom lip for a second to ease his stammering. “I’m saying I don’t mind the punishment.”

You chuckled at his weak response. “Where’d you get this boldness?”

“From you, bun.”

You leaned in impossibly closer to his face, tightening the grip on his wrists. Your thumbs massaged the peaks of his palms as your gaze drilled into Changbin for making moves that you never thought he’d do. The man felt so much smaller under you, his biceps clenching suddenly at the tense atmosphere that he initiated.

You stepped away, releasing his hands, and softly smiled. “Binnie, you owe me a hearty dinner tonight.”

Changbin blinked. “Is that my punishment?”

“Yes and no,” you tapped his bicep and squeezed at his muscles. Your sultry voice returned briefly. “Why, do you want more?”

Changbin nodded almost a little too quickly to be subtle.

You turned around to face away from him and smirked.

“How about we go to the gym and find out?”

The trip on the way to the fitness center went on as it usually did, full of banter and tight hand-holding. Your boyfriend was extra giddy in the driver’s seat — he insisted on driving — and seemed way too excited for something just a little less special than a date. After all, this was your work, and he’s still your client.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to be yours for a day.

You both greeted Chris, your coworker, and Changbin’s right-hand man, and Minho, Changbin’s left-hand devil. They were both sparring until you two entered the picture. After handshakes and smiles, they noticed the subconsciously possessive hand of yours snaking around your boyfriend’s back.

They always had knowing grins and your boyfriend always looked like a bullied little dog whenever they teased him.

Whatever it was between you or the two friends, you shrugged it off and headed to the semi-private training room that Changbin liked. It was a four-walled room full of mirrors and equipment, almost always reserved for you and him, your personal training all upgraded to something much more personal now that everyone in the gym knew the both of you.

Shutting the door behind you, your boyfriend let out a giggle. You turned to see him hiding a smile with a dumb look on his face as if he was aching to tell you a joke. You lightly tapped his cheek and he shrugged it off with a downturned smile.

“Anyway, silly boy, we’re here to work out your upper body and arm strength,” you headed over to set up the equipment, yet Changbin’s eyes wouldn’t stop following your figure as you spoke. You could feel the stare right onto your ass, his favorite part of your body, and it felt nasty yet comfortably familiar.

“Binnie, please pass me the—”

“Hmm…” Changbin crossed his arms, pretending to stand inattentively.

You blinked. Tapped your shoe to grab his attention. Nothing worked, and your boyfriend — your client — just looked at his reflection in the mirror, biting back a grin with sharp teeth.

“Bin?” You called out to him. “Baby.” No response. “Bun, bunny.” The eyes that were once on your ass seemed to look away, settling for your impending reaction.

“Seo Changbin.”

He whipped his head your way, feigning surprise, but you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned upwards for a split second. He loved hearing his name, loved it so goddamn much that he’d tease you this way just to hear it fall from your lips, no matter how stoically you called him. If it meant that you would succumb just to say his full name, a sign that you were his, then that meant he won in his own book.

“Mhmm? Oh right, what’d you say?”

If he was going to play some stupid game again, you were definitely catching on, and you were going to fucking win it.

“Put the bench down here.”

Changbin’s ears were impossibly red again at the sternness of your voice, but he scoffed, appearing like the overconfident self that he wanted to be to you. He grabbed the bench, sure, but he hovered it just above the spot you wanted him to place it on.

“I said put it down.”

He dropped the bench down with a loud thud. His eyes shifted back and forth between you and his pathetic reflection in the mirror.

You smirked at yourself after watching his natural obedience shine past his antics. “How about we try something?”

Changbin shook off his nervousness to listen to your inquiry.

“Plank with me underneath.” Your voice was stern, eyes all strict on his figure; if an outsider was watching, they wouldn’t know that you were looking at your very own boyfriend.

He merely scoffed in response.

“Extra bossy today, huh?” Changbin smirked at you, the shit-eating grin leaving your heart burning.

You’ve seen that smile before: he flashed that smirk often, teasing you especially whenever he sent you mirror selfies from his apartment with suggestive follow-up voicemails. It made you laugh every single time how tough he tried to look, flexing whatever muscle he wanted and texting like he was going to ruin you; only to look like a piece of dumb melted mess whenever you teased back with the promise of breaking his cock.

And now, of all times, you couldn’t back down. “Of fucking course. Aren’t you forgetting who’s boss?”

Changbin wiggled an eyebrow, knowing he was pushing exactly the right buttons. “You already know.”

“I don’t care. Remind me who your personal trainer is,” you sternly said.

A whisper left his lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” he subtly said, but you unfortunately picked up on it.

The dark stare you gave him was all he needed to realize what he had done, mouthing “oh shit.” All he could do now was expect you to double down on whatever you were already doing.

He fucked up, pushing the one last button too early — but he loved that he did, and maybe you did, too.

“Who’s your trainer?” You walked behind his figure on the weight bench. The reflection of your menacing stance in the mirror in front of Changbin left him nervous, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you trace a hand down his back.

You grabbed him: one hand pushing his upper back down while the other hugged his hips upwards. With full force, you caught your boyfriend off-guard by making him fall on all fours on the bench in one singular motion.

“Who is it?” You reiterated, ignoring the long whine that escaped him.

“…Y-You, babe. I-It’s…you—” The words left his mouth all chopped up in stutters.

“I need a name.”

“Y/N,” Changbin whimpered before biting his lips to smile again.

“Seo Y/N.”

If he hadn’t pushed enough, then he did now. It was your job to tease but he was catching on. “Don’t play with me.”

“You know you l-like it. You love my name—”

His response earned him a sudden and firm slap on his ass. The boy cried out, his smile replaced by a scrunched face, his giggle replaced by a full moan.

“Filthy little gym brat,” you hissed.

You grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, forcing him to stare up at your reflection in the mirror alongside his pre-fucked-out face. “That’s what you are. Some dumb little workout junkie who thinks of nothing but their trainer’s ass.”

Changbin subtly turned his head in an attempt to look at your actual face. “You’d do the same if I was your trainer.”

“That’s what you think, rat.” You spanked his ass again, this time allowing it to sting through his thin shorts. “At least I’m not a weak little submissive toy of a man like you.”

He whimpered again, this time sounding pained. You thought it was from the spank itself but immediately figured that he was attempting not to leak precum in his shorts. His cock strained against his pants painfully. How cute.

“Y/N! Please, please!” Changbin hissed.

In a twisted attempt to worsen his situation, you sneaked your hand under his shorts to grope one of his ass cheeks, your nails digging into the spank mark. “Please what?”

“F-Fuck…” He attempted to speak straight, holding back drool from spilling out of his mouth by biting his lips back. He stared at you through the mirror with glossy eyes. The hearts in his pupils shined through his bangs, affecting you as if they were aphrodisiacs.

“Please fuck me?”

Without a doubt, his bratty antics were getting to you, but you merely smirked back at him. The same grin he flashed you earlier now pasted on your face, mirroring everything he did from the ego boost down to the annoying scoff that left his mouth. Only yours was more sadistic, infuriating, yet all sorts of hot and addicting.

Changbin anticipated your response, the brattiness leaving him, faux fear inching close to his heart.

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

He tried to whine but nothing could escape his mouth. He was incredibly hard and his poor little fat dick couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe if he didn’t rush his flirtatious antics before you two got into the gym, he would’ve changed into looser shorts that could actually give his cock some breathing room.

What’s worse is that you probably knew this but never gave him — nor his cock — the mercy to breathe.

Changbin settled on shaking his head, his scalp stinging a little from the hold of your hand on his curls. At his response, you forcibly let go of the hand, pushing his head down slightly, making his head bow in painful humiliation.

A delicious whimper made its way out of his mouth.

“I’m here to train you,” you said, your other hand still firm on his ass, “I will train you to be patient, hmm? I’m not your partner now.”

You squeezed his ass one last time before removing your hand from his shorts. “I’m your coach for now, you’re my client, yeah? I’ll fuck you if you’ve been good enough.”

Changbin simply nodded his head eagerly. You chuckled darkly, impressed at your brat’s sudden obedience.

“Now, where were we?” You slapped your palms on his round and bouncy pecs. “Oh right.”

You got on your knees down to meet his eye level, him elevated as he was supported by the bench. You looked like you could kiss him, or if he stood up then you would suck him off, or maybe eat his ass in that position — but you simply grinned, laying down with your back to the floor and front facing up under Changbin.

“Do a bench plank with me underneath. One minute and thirty seconds. Go.”

Poor guy had the most agonizing minute and a half of his life.

The sight of you, winning at the game he set, and teasing him with the nastiest curl of your dark smile left him struggling when he usually never did. He could’ve gone on for possibly two minutes or more, he never tested the limit, but maybe he hit it when he was forced to stare at you.

“Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.” The husky timbre of your voice rang in his head as you counted the seconds down, a daunting timer right underneath him. He couldn’t believe himself, that he tried to become an annoying brat — and he never expected such a return.

But what was he supposed to expect from you — the partner he bagged through fucking in the very same gym he was struggling to work out in.

Changbin’s cock was straining, raging boner only ever getting harder while staring at you and your body that he loved so much. He couldn’t say a word, mutter a single word of worship even if he wanted to; he was still keeping up the act, refusing to succumb to the game he was still trying not to lose.

Maybe he already did, but he’s stubborn, just as you found him out to be.

“Fifty. Fifty-one, fifty-two…”

Flowing through his popping veins, his blood heated up his entire body when he was just planking, a simple warm-up exercise, as he fell into the pit of disbelief that you held the reigns and all the power even while being physically under him. He felt humiliated, less than the confident man he wanted to be, feeling smaller and significantly less strong than he actually was.

“Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine…”

At some point, he felt like giving up, like bucking his elbows and letting go of the bench. That unfortunately meant that he would drop onto your body and crush you, losing the game and, more importantly, hurting you.

It was beyond a game at that point. His nerves were fighting themselves, he wanted to cum, to drop onto your hips and just be fucked by your body. He was so ready to admit defeat, but he couldn’t at the cost and real fucking risk of crushing you.

Crushing the body he so loved. The collection of parts that made up the whole that is you, the one he fell in love with. The curves and sharp edges that framed your plush skin and contours, the hairs that grow in directions that flatter you. There’s something in the way the sight of your body places him in a trance; perhaps because it is the very body that houses the person he loves, his coach, the one who loves him, the one who knows how to love him. And god, you were strong, strong enough to bear his weight, but his anxiety boiled all the way down his crotch.

Can’t crush the body he loves.

He didn’t want that. Of course, you wouldn’t want that. He shut his eyes and listened to your voice instead of the thought. His sweat dropped from his forehead and neck down to your cheek, making you chuckle. The lightness of your laugh relieved him a little, but also made him harder, his hips wishing to line up against yours.

Of course, you noticed. Of course, you knew how badly he wanted you. You pulled your knee up and brushed it against his crotch.

“One hundred!”

Changbin yelled loudly at the action and your last count, failing to realize that he had gone ten seconds past a minute and a half. He tensely let go of the bench, only to catch himself painfully with his elbows and propping his body just inches above yours.

He flinched more at the fact that you barely flinched rather than the last-minute save down on your body.

“Good job, Binnie. You went beyond the time limit!”

Cock aching between his legs, Changbin resisted to call for a restroom break as he knew you would’ve humiliated him. He would want that, but not in the way he truly needed. He craved your validation in the form of proper disciplining, wishing to bring out that side of you, his coach.

But lord was your praise music to his ears.

If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it then.

The workouts went on for what seemed like hours of agony and his cock wouldn’t soften at all.

He did more reps on the pulldown machine than usual. It didn’t help that you hovered over him with your ass just above his hips as his back ached and arched at each pull. He looked beautiful, *fuckable,*especially when he complained slightly about doing another set at your command.

“Another?”

“Why, can’t do it?”

“What if I said no—”

You pulled the bar down with his arms in a sudden burst of strength, stretching his entire upper body, making Changbin groan so loud it might’ve echoed beyond the private room.

“You’re doing it anyway, that’s a demand.”

Then he got on the bench press while you hovered over his crotch. You counted the reps as he tried to focus on the heavy barbells. Your ass teased him, luscious hips just above his own in a way that made him feel like throwing the weights and pushing you down on his cock instead.

Turns out that wait is more tiring than weights.

Then you commanded him to use the sit-up machine while your lips were dangerously close to his every time he curled up. Then you took him to the chest press and forced him to stare at you, not your ass in the mirror behind him. Every single other exercise felt like another lap down the circles of hell.

He also did elevated push-ups on the bench as you sat on his lower back. The tease of your ass against the back of his hips drove him insane.

You spanked his ass again and he almost came then and there.

He was heaving, not just from the muscle soreness, but also from the thought that you could just fuck his ass in this position if you could — but alas, you held it over his head, and he was just a “filthy fucking gym brat.”

You could feel your veins popping as he smirked at you upon accomplishing his last set, only to feel satisfaction when he ducked his head and pouted when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get too cocky, rat.” Your hand found his right bicep and held the firm, exhausted muscles.“How about I check your progress, hmm?”

A finger ran across the grooves of his shoulder blades and defined collarbones. “Oh, this rat did so well after all.” You ran your knuckles against the firm skin, feeling his biceps flex under your bones. Changbin shuddered at the touch, affecting him mentally and physically.

But god was your lovely voice making it so much worse. “Body got so much prettier.”

So was your teasing. “And you’re still so eager.”

You pointed straight at his erection while your other palm squeezed his strong forearm. He hated the teasing, or loved it; he isn’t too sure. Before he could say anything, feel the humiliation creep in for being a huge pervert, you bent down — and intentionally showed the curvature of your ass — to pick up a bottle.

“Does my baby want a treat?” You offered the treat in the form of a bottle of his favorite energy drink, still all cold even after being sat on the floor throughout the entirety of the workout.

The boy was thirsting, sure, but he wanted to quench a different kind of thirst. If the short yet thick tent on his crotch was any indication, then it was the darkened gaze that suddenly flickered in his eyes when he stared at you.

“No.”

A bratty side was returning and you hated that same lopsided smile on his small, puffy mouth.

“I want Y/N.”

You fiercely grabbed him by his cheeks, pinching your thumb and index finger down onto the softness of his cheeks. Your boyfriend’s luscious lips puckered at the pressure, but he tried to look less cute in your hands with a little tinge of failure.

“Demanding now, are we? You’re gonna have to train more if you think you deserve me.” You dug your nails harder into the skin of his cheeks. “What are we here for again?”

No response. Your nails sunk in more, making your boyfriend whimper. “Answer me.”

“Training.”

You let go. “Good. Training for?”

“M-My body.”

“Yes,” your voice softened. “For your pretty body.” You felt up his muscles, fingers walking across the thin fabric of his shirt and dancing around his firm, sweating skin. The threads were cool due to his sweat yet his skin was warm under your touch, the blood of a full-body blush creeping just within his veins, flesh reddening where it’s most sensitive — which is everywhere your hands graced.

“Such a glorious thing. So thick. So firm. So smooth, so beautiful.” Fallen into a trance at your warm words and touching, Changbin grew lightheaded, losing sense of thought almost completely even if he was feeling all sorts of emotions at once.

With a dark voice, you asked him an important question. “My baby worked out so well. But you’re missing something, why are you really here?”

Everything had to be mustered up for him to even reply. “To be…a good boy.”

Dumbing down, he felt his head spinning at your touch. He couldn’t form full sentences as he grew dumb, but he tried, and you could feel him trying. He still wanted to impress you but you had him drunk on the thought of you.

At this point, his poor cock had been edged past his record limit, but he hadn’t backed down to rub one out even in the private room with you.

Even if he wanted to. God, it would be nice, being sat with his back laid flat on the bench while your glorious ass cheeks bounced on his fat cock—

“I don’t think we’re done though.”

Feeling the grooves of his well-carved muscles, relishing in the subtle instinctive flexes, you felt a burn inside your heart just above the chest. Changbin was shaking ever so slightly, judged by the mere touch of your fingertips, a lovely little tactile feeling all contrasted with the flaming intent of your actions.

“I want more from you. How much can you lift again?”

Dryness caught itself in Changbin’s throat. “M-More than…130 kilos…”

“How about we see who’s stronger?”

“Baby—” Realizing how deep your pupils seemed to drill themselves into him, he changed terms of endearment. “Coach, what do you mean?”

“I lift you, then you lift me. Let’s see who’s stronger then. Got it?”

The matter-of-factly tone of voice and hands on your own hips got Changbin reeling. He especially loved seeing your displays of strength, something you were ironically subtle about even as his own trainer.

Is it bad that he got more excited to watch you outdo him than to prove you wrong? He hadn’t realized yet, but he was losing his own game.

This gym session was going overtime.

“You gotta be stronger than me to pass.”

Squatting before him, you looked up at him with shiny eyes as you readied yourself to carry your big boy.

He thought he would look unattractive from the lower angle however you digressed. His tummy became more apparent, one of your favorite parts of his body, alongside his ass.

It was no secret that the both of you were obsessed with each other’s bottoms. He wanted yours in a way that a hungry man would want to savor the food he’d finally get. You wanted to finger his as if his plump, round, and firm cheeks weren’t an invitation to be violated.

Maybe you should finger him.

Maybe you’d do it after lifting him off the ground.

“Holy—woah, Y/N, woah woah! Put me down!”

“Ah. Won’t put you down for a minute, I kind of like the heaviness.” You lifted him up by snaking a strong arm around his hip and supporting his heavy upper body with your other arm. “You weren’t this big before.”

You spanked his ass one more time, watching the jiggly form recoil, until you held it firmly in your hand.

“Now, I’m sorry Binnie, but I can’t resist you.”

While holding him up, you slammed both of your bodies against the wall, making sure not to break the mirror behind Changbin or hurt him in the process. After realizing that it had only gotten his cock pulsating in his shorts, you made the wise decision to pull it down.

The yelp that Changbin let out was to die for.

You hastily pulled his shirt all the way up to his mouth, forcing him to bite onto the fabric as his belly and chest exposed themselves to you with the prettiest subtle bounces. They had been freshly worked out, skin glistening and glowing from his sweat. Each form of his pecs and the round firmness of his tummy was detailed enough to make you admire it even more than when it would naturally be while relaxed.

Every side of him was attractive, whether or not he worked out, but the view of his exposed body made your core tingle with delight.

Tracing a finger up his stomach, you felt up his skin until the dip of his chest. His cleavage was extra prominent, especially in the way you squeezed his body between your own and the wall. You played with the space before your fingers settled on pinching his nipple.

Of course, you were aware of his sensitivity around his chest, and that made you intentionally tease him even more.

Changbin let out a muffled cry, drool pooling in the fabric of his shirt where his mouth clamped on it. You still held him up, but this time, you adjusted your hold by throwing his leg up and over your arm. He shuddered at the action and then at the realization of what was to come.

Before he could even think, your finger dug into his exposed asshole, and prodded it open.

Changbin bit down and cried, writhing in your arm and attempting to grab anything. He settled on holding onto your shoulders as he felt your finger enter him even deeper.

His cock seemed to move painfully on its own. It twitched rapidly as the heavy dick was left unattended but his ass clenched around you in the same way.

Figuring that your boyfriend already had enough stimulation going on in your little game, you decided to make it worse by sucking on the nipple you pinched earlier.

At this point, Changbin’s mind had gone completely hazy, all thoughts fogged out as he could only focus on the pleasure on opposite ends of his body. Your tongue swirled around his hardened nipple as your lips sucked around the skin of his tit. Your finger was joined by another digit, slowly going as to let him adjust to the sensations. His prostate was getting violated, used, and abused, but it only spurred the both of you on to keep going.

And then you went merciless on him.

Your fingers curled against his sweet spot before getting pulled away, only to push back as soon as Changbin attempted to whine; his subconscious obedience proved itself to manifest as he dropped the bratty act and kept his mouth clamped around his shirt. He made muffled noise after muffled noise, tearing up and drooling, wishing for his cock to be satisfied. He was close, dangerously so, and you could feel it in the way his balls started to grow heavy against your wrist.

Denying him relief, you moved on to suck on his other nipple, picking up the pace in which you fingered your boyfriend.

He threw his head back against the mirror with a loud thud but he could care less. Your other arm’s hold around his body kept him in place but also flexed enough to make him feel all of you.

Maybe it was subconscious possessiveness. Maybe it was the need to keep his melting body up. Maybe it was the lone sensation of being surrounded by muscles and also being penetrated by muscles that made Changbin—

“No, you’re not cumming yet baby.”

Your lips left his chest with a pop and your big boyfriend ducked his head in response. You pulled the shirt off his mouth and dragged it down while your other arm set him down on the ground.

Still shaky, Changbin grew confused and frustrated — not at you, but at the denial of relief once more.

“Time to show your strength Bin. Show me what you got—”

Changbin hastily pinned your body to the mirror wall as well, breathing heavily while holding your body by the hip.

Just as you held him practically with one arm only, he did the same, this time using the other to pull your own bottoms down to reveal your ass.

“Please, Y/N, p-please, ‘m so needy.” Changbin was out of breath, brain still jumbled from being fucked mercilessly in the ass. “Can’t take…anymore…please, please…”

He mustered up every single bit in him to form sentences. The poor thing’s bicep wrapped around your ass as if he could never let you go. “Wanna fuck coach, please, let me fuck you.”

It would’ve been a grave sin to detach from you at any moment. His hunger for your body had grown past his primal instinct and now he had been craving you like crazy.

“What’s gotten you so horny?” You had to ask, shocked at the drooling, sweating, blushed-up mess of a man that you still proudly call yours.

“Couldn’t…stop staring at you. Since earlier. S-Since last night. Since yesterday. Couldn’t get my mind off you.” The words that fell from his mouth graced your ears as slowly as possible yet tasted sweeter than ever.

Praises and worship left his mouth at a rapid rate as he felt up your body lazily with his free hand. “You’re just…so strong…Y/N, you drive me crazy.” Changbin kissed any inch of skin he could get. “I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course. I love you too and you are mine.”

Your response made Changbin shiver, evident in the breathy whine he let out. “I promise I’ll be your baby b-bunny forever. Your strong bunny.” Your boyfriend shook as his mouth left love bites on your neck. “I’m obsessed with you, I love you, I love you, I—”

You shushed your boyfriend’s mindless mumbling with a deep kiss, one that Changbin had been craving for hours. He relished in anything that was you, felt like you, tasted like you, and he couldn’t bear to bring out the bratty act once you finally planted your lips on his.

Sighing into your mouth, he shuddered, leaning into your touch and pouting again to receive more of your love. You smiled in response, teasing ever so slightly, before returning the favor with a dart of your tongue.

Changbin’s arms shot up to hold onto you for support, the strong man crumbling under you. What was better was that you held him up, your own arms circling his body again, the grip from every inch of your body around his putting him steadily in his place.

Then you squeezed.

“Fuck, coach, you—” Then you pinned him down on the bench. “Y/N!”

“Hush, boy, aren’t you so excited?” You chuckled as you repositioned yourself and him. “Wanna fuck your coach so bad?”

“Please! Please, I tried to be good!”

Adjusting your hold on him, you gently laid him down on the bench and abandoned your bottoms completely. “Aw. Not so much of a brat now, are you?” You shuffled your hips to hover over his thick, desperate cock.

“Deep down you’re just a pathetic little boy, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” Changbin whimpered mindlessly. “Couldn’t be a brat!”

All you could do was laugh while lining up the entrance of your ass with his tip. “So why’d you try?”

“Because…” He choked on the lump in his throat.“Y-You’re so hot when you’re strict, Y/N…”

You shoved your ass down onto his cock in one fell swoop, enveloping your boyfriend whole.

It was known ever since the beginning that he loved anal; your first bit of sex in the very same gym was telling enough, but he loved giving and receiving in both ways. He loved the dirtiness but also the fact that the both of you prepare and clean yourselves well for it “just in case” it comes up.

This scene was one of those emergency moments that you were glad you both prepared for. Otherwise, you would’ve had the worst time adjusting to Changbin’s sheer girth.

His size was something he had never truly believed to be astounding, but even with your strength, you couldn’t help but lose a bit of yourself to it. The girth was to die for: even if his cock didn’t reach deep, it was heavy, loaded, and big enough to stretch your ass wide. As you lifted your ass before slamming it back down, the feeling of your behind being opened and filled despite the tightness felt amazing.

Changbin felt like crying at your first strokes. He always loved it when you two fucked or made love, but shit, he basically edged himself the whole time in the gym. He had never done such a thing, most especially while putting up a brat act, but every single morsel of thought flew right out of his head as your ass picked up the pace and took him whole.

Somehow, you’d both become sopping wet as you both met in the middle once, twice, thrice, four times — you’d lost count, unable to keep the seconds and rounds of body slamming as you would’ve earlier.

You couldn’t help but moan from the pleasure, making Changbin hold you using all of his limbs with the last bits of strength in him. The both of you knew that he wouldn’t last.

A heat was pooling in your stomach as well, sliding all the way down to your crotch just in front of your ass. While his cock hit the sweet spot in your hole over and over, you could feel your own orgasm building quickly alongside your boyfriend’s.

Neither of you could care less about the mess you were about to make.

Quickly picking up the pace, you slammed your hips down over and over again and pressed your hands against his chest, rubbing his nipples and soothing the sore muscle. The stimulation grew far too much and too fast, but Changbin was so lost in the ecstasy that he couldn’t complain, and he grew so physically tired that he couldn’t hold you off.

Despite the hurt in his cock he still didn’t want to stop you.

“S-So fucking…close…holy shit, Y/N, gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me,” you demanded.

Fully shaking, Changbin dug his fingers into your thighs with all his remaining might and held you in place, shooting load after load from his poor, aching cock deep into your plush walls.

He was so warm, his release filling you with a certain nastiness that you loved so much. You could tell how much he saved all of it from the amount he shot into you. It even started spilling despite the fact that you stilled in place, unable to move from the force of his hands pulling you down. Maybe his training on the pulldowns earlier helped him with it.

But you were both far from done.

You kissed Changbin on his plush lips and sighed in faux contentment. “Binnie baby, you filled me well…” He could only mouth “thank you” in reply.

Then you pulled his sore body up after pushing yourself off his sore cock. “But I want more.”

His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and fear at the prospect of you using his spent cock more than he intended. This might’ve been the punishment he wanted, but it was nothing like what he’d expected.

Making matters worse, you sat behind him and suddenly wrapped your arm around his neck. The other hand found his cock and both arms squeezed, locking Changbin in your hold.

The boy moaned the loudest he had ever done in his entire life.

“Gonna fuck you like this,” you said as you pumped his cock at a rapid pace, “I’ll milk you dry.”

Your words left Changbin gasping, moaning, whimpering, and whining like a trapped dog. The tears in his eyes flooded down as he struggled to adjust in your arms, but god, you were far stronger than you displayed earlier. He barely had any strength left to push you off, to wiggle out, to even form a coherent enough sentence or word.

Was it bad that he liked it this way?

Changbin could only tremble. He moaned your name deliciously over and over as your hand pumped his fat cock from the tip all the way down to his balls at a breakneck pace. You softened the headlock slightly to make him breathe, but the flexing of your forearm drove your boyfriend past the point of self-control. He was overstimulated in every single way.

Again, it was the strength display. The fact that you were putting such a huge man like him in his place. You rendered him unable to function, tired him out until he became putty in your arms, and now you had him caged like a real rat. You flexed your forearm again and Changbin let out a severely choked out whimper.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He came non-stop with his head rolled back to your shoulder, curly bangs covering the fucked-out face he gave you from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Overstimulation sent him over the edge though, making him cum again and again. You could even feel the vein on his cock pop and pulsate under your palm. The lone fact that it only seemed to soften after a few more shots of cum on Changbin’s own belly and on your hand made you feel powerful.

“My tamed brat, my good boy.”

The praise made Changbin see stars. You saw the hearts in his eyes as he struggled to look back at you.

Wholly dumb and unable to move, your boyfriend simply lay in your arms and you both sat there for a moment. You pet Changbin’s fluffy hair with one arm and rubbed his belly with the other, playing with the cum on his tummy before you two shifted in your seats.

A year or so ago, you two had been in the same dilemma and position as you were. You and Changbin were both sweaty and exhausted, his head rested on your shoulder, unable to move. The both of you relished in the glow of being fucked nasty in the gym with your clothes barely hanging onto your bodies, soiled with sweat and cum — it sounded disgusting, but it was the reality that you two had to face with your puffy cheeks.

Lord knows how agonizing the cleanup would’ve been if you weren’t going to do it with your boyfriend at least.

Guilty at the mess he made, Changbin kissed your face everywhere and mumbled to “take care of it” as he attempted to stand up — only to groan in pain after the soreness hit all of his muscles at once. You laughed and supported his weight with your own. Unable to register how you’re still managing, you guided him up and took mops, towels, and bottles of isopropyl alcohol.

Everyone knew you two were lovebirds, but nobody could use this room after you tainted it with an atmosphere of pure sin.

It’s funny though, you thought; Changbin’s goofy self returned in full force, albeit in a tired body, but still entertained you enough to keep your spirits up while cleaning the room. He hummed, giggled at you, nudged his face into your arm, and even sniffed at you as a joke.

It was your silly signal to take a break in a shower together within the adjacent locker rooms that, somehow, were empty then.

Perfectly enough, you two took a single stall together and showered together just as you two were accustomed to doing. This time was a little more special, the deja vu of the first meeting settling in as you happily scrubbed your boyfriend’s once-sweaty scalp. He was too tired to do it to himself he returned the favor by cleaning you too. The rest of the shower was quiet save for a few “I love you’s” and light chuckles.

He gave your back a peck before drying it, relishing in your natural scent and the aroma of the post-shower lotion. You dressed him up in your extra clothes the same way that he dressed you up too, feeling at home even in a slightly public space.

Home was wherever Changbin was, in the same way, you were his home as well.

Back to the reality of the messy room, you handed him a mop and he grimaced.

“Hey, Y/N, slap my wrist next time I try to act bratty. That’s not really me.”

Your reaction must’ve been funny, as your face earned Changbin a hearty giggle.

“Then who might this just-as-handsome asshole-ish guy be?”

“I’m thinking Changbin would be a fitting name.”

“Ew.” You grimaced in the same way he did earlier. “And you should be jealous of him?”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know you love The Seo Changbin only.”

You snorted at him and threatened to swipe his leg with the mop. He laughed and snorted back. He liked the idea of poking fun at you with his own name so much that he pulled it thrice.

“Say, I owe you dinner tonight, right bun?” He huddled closer to you, the comfortable distance only growing warmer. It was touching to know that he remembered your silly claim from earlier, softening your heart. You got excited to listen as his ideas for hearty food were always right, a privilege you unlocked by having a lifestyle journalist wrapped around your finger.

“Mhmm. Gotta heal from that ass-kicking I gave you.” You bumped the side of your hip onto him, but he blushed as the slight memory of half an hour ago flashed before his eyes.

“Anyway! I know a cozy restaurant just downtown that serves banger seafood. It’s the side branch of that beachside bar I told you about.” Changbin went on to describe his recommendation.

Your eyes lit up at the idea. “Wow, your lifestyle writing really takes you places, huh?”

“Yeah, but actually,” Changbin raised his index finger, “I discovered it through my side gig’s talent, Chan—I mean CB.”

You paused and raised an eyebrow back. “…Interesting. Tell me about it.”

“How about I just show you?”

As if on cue, you both heard a punch, then a comically loud groan that sounded like Minho. Following it was an even louder apology from Chris. The other end of the gym must’ve been busier than you two, you thought.

The laughs that escaped both of your chests filled the air of the private room. It was one of many beats in your relationship that you shared with him often but it’s still an unconfined joy to have with him. You could live in the banter and tiny conversations forever, even the bratty behavior he displayed only cemented how much you loved the man even if he made your heart burn and filled your ass up.

Brats used to be off-limits until you brought him to his limit, and now it’s all you could ever think about.

Changbin expected punishment but only got rewarded with your love and warmth in the end. It’s a mission he successfully failed and a game you aimlessly won.

As you two walked out of the fitness center, wobbling in your steps back to the car, you fought over who’d be the driver. You won again, and Changbin fell asleep angelically in the backseat. At least then you’d wake him up with the hearty meal he recommended.

Even after all this time, your client — and boyfriend — never changed the love he had, has, and always will have for you. He might as well renew his gym subscription under your name even after the gym closes.

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @turnipfizzle @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @starryoong @bbyquokka @abiaswreck @suengmi @fun-fanfics @fairylouist + @stupidshitsworld @compersian @skz-hell @certifiedwootiny @xcookiemonsteer @lino-jagiyaa @imrllytootiredforthis @straykidsholicleigh @wonhosmistress @fruitcakebin @jisvngc0re1 @silentreadersthings

very special mentions to @meivida for proofreading and editing my fic (and for indulging in my nonsense). please wish them good health this year!

header art is mine! have a great new year everybody :))

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!changbin #dom!reader #stray kids smut #changbin smut #💬 z is writimg

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contentloadingandstuff · 11 months ago

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Discovering Your Past - Eula & Keqing x Male!Reader

In which they find out you were abused by your ex.

CW: Mentions of past trauma - physical abuse and SA. Modern AU. A/N: My fics are getting longer recently. I wonder if you guys mind?

Injuries are a natural part of life.

A scraped knee, a concussion, a sprained or broken limb - all creatures will have to endure these hardships one way or another. And, as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Each wound leaves a scar, each fight or accident is a lesson for the future on what to do or avoid.

What about those on the other end? Most feel regret about hurting others, are forced to do it or are convinced of their actions' justified nature. Yet among those are some starkly different cases. People who enjoy causing pain, be it physical or mental. And, undoubtedly, she was one of them.

Fate had it that your heart longed for her. She was a beauty, benign and friendly, whose charms worked on you without fail. She pushed, she pulled, slowly dragging you into her web. Your mind was too clouded with feelings to notice just how badly she trapped you. Like a spider she wrapped you in silky touches and words of affection like in a cocoon, and you were completely oblivious to your situation. And that she was - an apex predator, an effortless liar and natural manipulator. She stoked the flames of family conflicts, estranging you from your loved ones. Friends? She gave you a simple choice - it's me or them. You were coaxed into signing off your house under her name, as she encouraged you to do with many of your belongings, until you had nothing. Time and time again she pulled your strings through your heart, backing you into a corner. Alone. Unable to escape. Without anyone to turn to, anywhere to get away.

When your eyes opened at last, nobody was there to hear you scream.

Years. It took you two whole years to escape her clutches, two years of cruelty hidden behind a veil of love. With only the clothes on your back and some Mora in your pocket, you set off to another nation. There, you found a new home, and a new love. Sweet, caring and warm.

But wounds of the past cannot be hidden forever.

You push the door behind you, closing it with an accidently loud thud. Eula kicks off her high heels and enters the hall, placing down her bag and taking her jacket off. You put yours on the hanger and move to take hers, but she sends you a sharp look and walks past you, doing it herself.

The silence is tense. You know what you did.

“Honey, listen. I know I shouldn't have started that discussion-” You try to speak, but she turns around and cuts you off.

“Yes, you shouldn't have.”

Her eyes send daggers towards you. Your heart aches at the sight of your lover so full of anger, all because of you. Her family wasn't easy to interact with. Her choice of career made her the pariah of the line, but after she married you, the relations seemingly normalized enough to make them liveable. Seemingly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I mustn't do that ever again. I promise I won't.” You raise your open hands, as if showing you're unarmed. What was supposed to calm her down just irritates her.

She scoffs and approaches you. “I say you are an intelligent man, but times like these are when I doubt it. What's so hard to understand in ‘my family isn't normal and the less you interact with them the better’?”

She's right. Eula has told you time and time again that the opinions her father, mother, grandparents, uncles and aunts hold are final. Nothing will change them, they won't ever back down. They are egomaniacal with a tendency to bring those around them down to elevate themselves. And yet, there's something drawing you to them, something natural that tells you that they can be a source of warmth.

Because that's how things are supposed to be. A family should love each other, be united and supportive instead of polarized and hateful. Something in your soul doesn't seem to understand that you can't find any support in her side of the family.

“I know, Eula. I try to-”

“Then your ‘trying’ is not enough!” Her voice elevates further. There is something building in your chest. The pressure crawls from your heart up through your throat, rotting itself inside your neck. A choking feeling.

“Y/N, you shouldn't talk to them! Never, ever. You know how it ends, don't you? They bring you down, they hurt and belittle you. And you know that, don't you?”

Her eyes are narrowed. She speaks louder now, her words coming from a place of compassion and love rather than hostility. Your mind, however, is focused on something else.

Something familiar.

Her tone picks up, and so does your heartbeat. She's almost screaming now.

“Sorry, dear, but are you masochistic? Or just stupid?! I will have vengeance!”

Your hyper focused eyes spot movement. Her hand goes upwards, your chest sinking. Body stiffening, you turn your head down and sideways, exposing your cheek.

Just as she taught you.

Fighting back was pointless.

You deserve it.

You hold your breath.

Silence.

The blow doesn't connect. You hear the sounds of a barefoot step. You crack your eyes open. You see Eula has taken a step back, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. She blinks a few times and pulls her hand back towards her body.

“Not t-that kind of vengeance.” Eula barely mumbles the words out in pure confusion. She shakes her head in disbelief, her gaze leaving you and dropping to the floor. “Never. I w-would never-”

You spring back to life, as if a grave threat or danger just vanished.

“No no no, it's alright, honey. I just got a little scared of you, haha. It's fine, really!” You smile sheepishly, shame crawling under your skin. On reflex or out of habit, you rub your cheek. “Maybe I really am stupid, for being scared and all, you know?”

She takes a slow step closer. Her voice is far quieter than mere seconds ago, now down from a scream to a whisper.

“No. Don't call yourself that. My… My emotions got the better of me, honey. I’m sorry.” Eula’s voice composes, worry furrowing her brow as she stretches out her arm towards you, this time taking care to do it slowly. “May I…?”

You smile and nod, letting the palm of her hand connect to your cheek. Her touch is gentle, fingers tracing your skin with utmost care.

Your skin is so soft, so smooth, familiar. Her heart clenches, her mind holding no doubt about your reaction. You are not someone easily scared, nor are you particularly fearful of harm. Something, somebody…

“Who was it?” Her hand trails down smoothly, coming to rest on your shoulder. “Who hurt you?”

You shake your head. “What? What do you mean? Nobody, I’m fine-”

“I said…” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “... who hurt you?��

At an instant, the thoughts in your mind already form into a rebuttal, a measly attempt to cover the truth. But you know better than that. Eula isn't that stupid.

You sigh, trying to figure out what to say. Seeing your hesitation, she places both of her arms on your shoulders, her eyes focusing on yours. Within her beautiful irises fading from deep purple to light yellow you find a steadiness worthy of a captain, but also a lover.

“You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, honey.” She speaks softly, stroking your skin in calming circles. “I just need to know if justice has been served, or some additional, very particular and very severe vengeance needs to be added to my to-do list.”

“My ex-girlfriend is… She’s no longer a threat, alright?” You close the distance between you and Eula and embrace her. Your lover secures her arms around you right away, providing you with just the comfort you seek. “I just don’t want to go back to those days. They’re over and I just want to focus on you… On somebody that actually loves me. Somebody that doesn’t scream at me for no reason, belittles and insults me, and…”

Your voice trails off. Images and sensations rush through your memory. Every insult, every impact weighs on your voice, trapping it beneath the torrent of nightmarish memories. Eua squeezes you tighter.

“Shh. Don’t think about it now, sweetie. You're here, safe in my arms. I promise to be your shield. However…”

Eula's characteristic pout forms on her face.

“For not telling me about this, I will have vengeance.”

“That was a little shameful for me-” She cuts you off.

“Silence. My retribution is nigh. For your transgression, I shall cuddle you and feed you ice cream while subjecting you to the terror of your favorite movie.” She narrows her eyes theatrically before gently, but firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. “You cannot escape now.”

You smile in horror.

The screen flashes with a jump scare as a curtain is moved aside. A disfigured monstrosity covered in black goo and rags opens its jaw to reveal a set of sharp, but surprisingly pristine teeth.

“Brains!” Its voice is clearly augmented in some way, deep and a little echoing.

The punk screams at this sight but before he can do anything, the zombie grabs his head with its skeletal hands and bites down. The rest of the group squeals. The man's head is cracked open like an egg, filling the undead's mouth with fake blood and flesh-like props.

“Oh my…” Keqing can't help but gasp a little, her arms tightening around your chest slightly. “That's a lot of jaw force…”

As the zombie digs into the man's brain, a joke comes to your mind.

“He's not going to extract a lot of brain from him, is he?”

In response, Keqing chuckles a little. “Yeah. But at least he is also quite brave. If not for him, that girl would have been the meal instead.”

“True, true.”

The movie continues. The female lead escapes the locker she was trapped in moments ago as her friend is being devoured. Another character throws an empty bucket of paint at the creature, making it fall back, before raising up and exclaiming joyously:

“More brains!”

The kids scream and run away. Keqing, as much as she finds the movie interesting, can't help but recall one scene in particular.

A smirk settles on her delicate features. “So… How's the movie? Do you like it?”

You nod vigorously. “Of course! It's a classic that I wanted to watch for a long time now, but never got around to that. And I can confidently say that I regret not watching it earlier. It's a lot of fun.”

Keqing hums in understanding. Her fingers, one of them brandishing a beautiful and intricate golden ring, slowly move up onto your leg.

“Did you enjoy any scene in particular, honey?” Your eyes follow her hand as it moves up, each finger making a slow, deliberate step.

Just a glance at her slight blush and sly smirk is enough to make you catch on, making your cheeks heat up as well. You gulp.

“Well…” You start, but Keqing places a finger on your lips, silencing you.

“Aw, sweetie~ I know full well how you were eyeing that girl. Your thoughts were betrayed by much more than just your stare.”

Her hands move up, sliding underneath your shirt and caressing your exposed chest. You feel her desire through her movements, careful, seductive, yet impatient at the same time. A little shiver of excitement crawls through your body.

“Honestly, Y/N, I can't blame you. That redhead was quite a beauty, after all. ”

Her hands clench over your body as she rolls to sit on your lap, her eyes, twinkling with desire, pointed right at you. Keqing sends you a wink. Your hands settle on her buttocks.

“But you see, my dear, you got me just a little too jealous to resist showing this handsome guy which girl his attention should be on~” Her hands shift to meet yours, fingers wrapping around your wrists. “So relax and let me have the spotlight~”

Your eyes widen as she hoists your arms off her and pins them to the wall above your head. You try to struggle away, but her grip is iron thanks to the additional strength provided by her Vision. An attempt to release your body from underneath hers fails as well. You're nervous - this never happened before.

“Keqing, you're-” You start to say, but are interrupted by her right hand locking onto your throat.

Your hands clench, eyes growing wide. You choke, any words of protest dying in your restricted windpipe. You look at Keqing, who smiles mischievously, completely oblivious to your discomfort.

“What did I say? Bad boy!” She uses her other hand to pry yours off her choking arm. You relent, shocked and increasingly scared at her sudden roughness. “Now stay still, or you'll regret it~”

Tears form in your eyes as she leans and begins kissing and licking your cheek, adding small bites here and there. You close your eyes, not wanting to see what happens next. The feeling of her genuine affection recalls different images in your mind. The past and the present melt into one in your mind.

As you lay helpless, Keqing continues loving you until her tongue hits an unusual note of salt on your skin. She pulls back and, upon seeing you crying, lets go of you right away. Her hands go to cover her mouth in an expression of pure horror.

“I’m sorry! I’m… Oh Gods, I didn't mean to-!”

You squirm away and, in response, Keqing jumps off of you. She reaches towards you, but ultimately stops herself. Shame, guilt and sadness light up her face, hidden behind her small hands.

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. By now your senses have returned. Her reaction brought you back at an instant. You get up and approach her.

“Keqing, I'm sorry, nothing-”

You're interrupted as she dashes past you. You can only call out to her as she runs to the bathroom and slams the door behind her. The sound of a lock turning halts your movements.

You sigh and drop back down on the couch. The movie is still playing. Your ears pick up the sounds of soft sobbing from behind the bathroom doors. The heart tells you to get up, to talk to her, to knock down the door if need be, but the brain speaks with reason. She needs time, and you know it. It's better to let her calm down on her own. If you were to approach her now, she likely wouldn't speak to you, let alone open the door.

Tears return to the corners of your eyes. Your heart aches at the sound of her pain. You can tell what she's thinking. That she's awful, dangerous, creepy, abusive. That it's all her fault.

But the truth? She's not the problem. You are.

The TV's noise irritates you. You turn it off and throw the remote across the room. Your head falls into your hands.

How could you have done this to her?

Why can't you just let go?

Why are you so weak?

A shaky sentence manages to make its way out of your lips.

“It's all my fault.”

—

Deafening silence was all that filled the following hour when her crying died down. You went through every possibility of what would happen when the bathroom door would open. You planned what to tell her and how, you anticipated all of her possible reactions. You knew you couldn't fail again. You couldn't leave her in the dark and risk another incident like this.

She shouldn't suffer because of me, you thought. It was your obligation to be transparent with your wife. Not like you weren't dying to apologize, to comfort her, to let her know it isn't her fault. But you were patient.

When the door finally opened, Keqing looked abysmal. Her make-up was completely gone, first made running with tears, then washed away along with them. Her hair was a mess, not a trace of her usual prim and proper style left. Her eyes were red and barely open.

You spoke gently. You hugged her, asking for a chance to explain yourself. She nodded wordlessly and you sat with her by the table. There, you told her everything. You told Keqing about your previous partner and about exactly what you suffered at her hands. Your wife was very quiet, but still nodded every now and then. From the shakiness of her voice when she spoke the few words in your conversation, you could tell she was stopping herself from bursting into tears again. Nonetheless, you continued until the story was told.

“As such, Keqing, my wife, my love, the sun to my moon, none of what happened is your fault.” You continue, following the script you prepared in your mind. “It was my weakness and my inability to move on that caused all of this in the first place. For that, I’m… sorry. I truly am.”

She nods. Her eyes are focused on her hands, fingers fiddling with each other. Keqing slowly lifts her eyes to meet yours. You spot tears gathering on her features.

“Why… I don't understand…” She starts, but upon realizing her instability, she sniffles and swallows the sadness weighing on her chest. “Why would you ever say that you're weak?”

You sigh. “I should have moved on by now, but instead, I kept it with myself and now it hurt you as well. It is my pain and thus my responsibility to handle it.”

“No, n-no that's… How… How could someone such as you be weak?” She shakes her head. “You survived so much. So much pain, so much fear, so much hurt… And yet here you are, Y/N. Not only trusting another woman, a woman whom you not only married, but also allowed into your bed. I can't imagine myself doing something like that so quickly. You've moved on, honey. You regained the strength to trust and to love again. How can this be called anything but strong?”

You open your mouth to challenge her on this, but she acts first.

Keqing breaches the gap between you and falls into your arms. Her body wraps around yours, holding onto you tightly. One of her hands travels to your cheek.

“Y/N, you're strong. For having endured it, for having moved on, trusted again.”

You drop your gaze. Perhaps she is right. Keqing gently lifts your cheek to direct your attention back at her. She smiles, her tearful eyes shining with boundless affection.

“You're the strongest man I've ever known.”

Thanks for reading!

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elenagoeslightly · 7 months ago

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girl i dont know why i am seeing so many posts of ppl being angry about sylus being a new love interest or about rafayel being written one way or another (which confuses me endlessly bc he is a character. i am literally reading everything i can find about him like a woman obsessed and i have seen this pixel man become everything on ao3; sub, switch, dom, even vampire and i am having the time of my life. also quick reminder that writers in fandoms give you content for free. for free. there are literally ppl writing things that are perfection on earth and they are doing it for free. for free and for your entertainmet what a time to be alive.)

I have seen posts of ppl being scared about interacting or writing about rafayel bc of the fandom and i have to say that as a rafayel girlie i want as many ppl as possible to write about him and to have as many povs of him as possible. like literally gatekeeping a character is killing the character, bc no one wants to write about a characters if they have to be afraid of the reaction of others, and again, it doesnt make sense: you will get less fics, less drawings and less everything. youre shooting yourself in the foot.

Also the only problem with this game is the lack of a age limit and i will stand on this hill till the end of days.

and about sylus: girl. g i r l. first and foremost, kudos to the devs for making these pixel men more complex as the game goes on, bc ive seen this man chained, unchained, reading books with glasses in bed like a grandpa and making a salad like a domestic husband all in one week and hes not even in the game yet, so putting him in a box might be a bit against the character himself. also, this loyalty thing makes no sense. ive jumped from zayne to raf and i am probably going to jump again a lil (even if i find raf's character and his duality extremely captivating for some reason).

but again, pls dont gatekeep. ive been in fandoms for years and from my been there done that perspective, nothing harms a fandom more than that, bc it makes ppl pick a side and have arguments and that's a mess.

pls let ppl have fun and enjoy things pls pls pls

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captainwholecake · 7 months ago

Note

Sanji with a male s/o who’s a simp for him and only him like very protective but very sweet to him

Thx and have a great day❤️

a/n: TWO MEN FINALLY TWO MEN (in the tone of that two men tiktok sound)

warings: my enby ass going hard becuase male based fics are some of the best fics i’ve ever read and I usually go gender neutral anyways but I’ll make this more male on this

——

Is it considered a culture shock if it’s really just sanji seeing how his behavior is just less weird

not to mention he liked it

give this man bf NOOOWW HE DESERVES IT

I feel it would a twink situation too like only a twink would be able to get pass this man

Nothing bad not like he wouldn’t be into twinks or that he likes twinks bc they’re feminine or whatever I just feel like only a doe eye bitch would get to him like a woman would

like pudding for example she was kind of doe eyed

and also seeing someone act like he does to women would get to him going like heart racing, blood rushing do-

It would a be lapdog that thinks its a great dane situation I just know

“Don’t worry he don’t bite” the bf proceeds to bite someone

Recently got really into Gulity Gear and I feel like the dyamanic would be very aba and para coded just less intense on the aba side things but sanji would he very para coded

Theres a interaction where aba talks about her favorite color and para TURNS into that color (if you know nothing about gg hes a demon stuck inside a gaint key shaped axe) and he talks about being “her partner” it just feels like something sanji would do if he could

i feel like sanji and this bf would switch on whose more protective like on the battlefield or fights all his safety goes out the window when his bf is around he’s the #1 priorty now but in normal everyday events the bf is just a fluffy lapdog who growl at all that comes near unless trusted like the crew

zoro’s afraid to use them as an insult. he has it thought up and planned but scared two separate people will jump him he does

the lapdog bs comes full throttle when the events of whole cake island comes around

shit gets emotional lets just leave at that because if you’re reading this is you know what happens in that arc

I don’t think it would become worst but bf has a lot more a understanding on why he feels protective of sanji and why sanji can be for him

ohhh my queen reiju would love the bf I just know

she would thank him for not only being there for sanji but for taking care of him and protecting him

she definitely would also think of the bf of being a lapdog who thinks they’re a german shepherd I know it

The vibes I get from how imagine the bf is a border collie (new one piece oc just dropped???) which I know aren’t lapdogs but its the vibes do miniature border collies exist?

Anyways those types of dogs are how I see the bf a loyal mf who bite a bitch if needed

also application to be sanjis bf (as a enby)

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koolaidoverwriting · 7 months ago

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Hello!! Is it okay for me to request JeffxJack headcannons/fic?? They're literally my brainrot at the moment and I can't stop thinking abt them 😔 (Maybe even try to start off the relationship with an enemy type thing since they have the opposite personality) SRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG I REALLY LOVE THEM 😔😔

(And if 🐧 or 🦇 anon is free can I have it :33?? I really really love ur writing so much <333)

EYELESS JACK / JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Well, it's in the title.

I love these guys! I had a small phase over them a few months ago... Writing this was like a throwback. Also, you can absolutely have 🐧!!! Thank youuu! :D

CW: Self-Harm, Cannibalism, Fluff With a Little Angst

BEFORE DATING

Jeff is hated by a lot of the mansion for being an asshole. Jack is on the same boat as him; but for Jack, it's less severe, since he's only an asshole when someone annoys him. They didn't get along at the start. How could they? They were both angsty teenagers when they met. Jeff found Jack's deadpan and straight-forward personality to be annoying; Jack was the same with Jeff's bitchy attitude.

However, after working together in missions, they found they work surprisingly well with each other. Over time, Jack became one of the only people Jeff could tolerate in the mansion. Jeff found himself yearning to spend more time with Jack. During this period of pining, Jeff had more outbursts as he couldn't come to terms with having a crush on Eyeless Jack of all people.

Unbeknownst to Jeff, Jack felt the same. Jack was confused at first. Confused as to why Jeff kept avoiding him. It made him upset, and a bit jealous when he saw Jeff interacting with others. Jack had liked people in the past, but this was different. Jeff was right there. So close to Jack's reach. All Jack had to do was reveal his feelings, but he couldn't.

They realised they had a crush on each other when Jeff drunkenly confessed to Jack. The drunken confession turned into a sober one in the morning (Jack had to help Jeff through his hangover).

WHILE DATING

Jack is attracted to Jeff's humanity; he likes Jeff's personality, and is undoubtedly curious about what lies beneath Jeff's surface — the surface that's so angry all the time. Jack wants to understand Jeff's emotions, because maybe it'll help Jack reconnect with his own. Jeff is attracted to Jack's lack of humanity. Jeff likes knowing he's not alone, that there's another person who feels as isolated from humanity as he does. They connect knowing that neither of them chose the life they're living.

Out of the two, Jack is WAY more affectionate. He's unnecessarily caring, overbears Jeff with gifts, and holds Jeff's hand whenever he can. This is because Jack doesn't understand relationships and thinks he's being a good boyfriend by doing the most. And he is a good boyfriend! Jeff is always happy to accept his boyfriend's acts of affection.

Jack uses WikiHow to get tips on how to be a better boyfriend. He steals pick-up lines straight from Google. Things along the lines of, "Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only 10 I see." Jeff always laughs at Jack's pick-up lines, finding them to be funny and cute.

Meanwhile, Jeff asks Lulu and Clockwork for advice. But never once will he ever ask Ben for advice. Lulu is a good person to go to because she's Jack's closest friend. Meanwhile, Clockwork is Jeff's best-friend. Plus, she's been in two relationships already.

Jack flirts more than Jeff, but without the help of others, his way of flirting is... unique. "I'm going to rip out your intestines and eat them for dinner." "...Jesus Christ." On the rare occasion Jack does flirt successfully, Jeff gets all flustered, telling him to, "Shut up..."

Jack attempts to get Jeff to stop re-cutting that smile on his face and just let it heal. After a heated argument in the bathroom, Jeff begrudgingly agrees, and Jack sews up the slits in Jeff's cheeks. Similarly, Jeff convinces Jack to stop wearing his mask so often.

Jeff goes straight to Jack whenever he has any injuries. It's a better option than the lunatic they call Nurse Ann. Jack gives Jeff whatever the hell he wants whenever he's ill. The best part of dating a demon is that he can't get sick! Jeff's favourite thing to eat is grilled cheese, so Jack has practically perfected the recipe.

Jeff pierces Jack's ears and eyebrow; helps him decorate his room; and helps him… be more human, if you will. Jack teaches Jeff how to cook; Jeff takes care of Jack's indoor plants whenever Jack is sleeping in. They go on walks with Smile Dog together. They stay up late watching TV and shit talking other proxies. Jack has a whole list of TV shows he loves, all of them have to do with crime and/or hospitals.

Jeff introduces Jack to his emo ass music; they sneak into concerts together, or host mini ones in Jeff's room. Before Jeff, Jack didn't listen to much music, so he quickly becomes an emo like Jeff.

During killing sprees, Jeff gathers organs to take back to his boyfriend. Jack appreciates it. He offers Jeff some kidneys, but Jeff adamantly refuses. Sometmes, they go on killing sprees together. Jeff does all the killing while Jack harvests the organs.

!!! a lot of these are yanked straight from my google document about jackjeff headcanons i made in december LMFAOOO.

#🐧 anon #requests #creepypasta #jeff the killer #jeffrey woods #eyeless jack #jeffjack #jackjeff #jeff the killer x eyeless jack #eyeless jack x jeff the killer #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons

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wordstome · 1 year ago

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the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig cod #konig cod #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #fic: now that we don't talk

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di-42 · 9 months ago

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May's Magnificent Fictions

First off let me share with you a little side note, because the brain wants what the brain wants. After an inner struggle I've finally decided to settle on using the noun "fiction" as countable when referring to works of fanfiction. I will stick to this. It has been bothering me.

And now for something completely enjoyable, let me present to you the lovely fics I've been lucky enough to read in May. I't's been a busy, at times stressful month and I haven't had the chance to read as many as I would have liked. I only made a tiny dent in my Marked for later list, which keeps growing and isn't it wonderful? I still have so much beauty, creativity and bliss to look forward to.

I'll try and tag the writers whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved they are.

WIPs:

The first two WIPs of this list have made me realise that my new favourite trope is the "they never met" one. Or it might just be that both writers are incredibly good!

My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose

I love this fic and the author's other work so much that sometimes I worry the writer might think I'm stalking them or something! (I'm not! I promise! I only kind of start staring at my phone around 6pm on a Friday night UK time waiting for an update, that's all!). Anyway. like I was saying, in this fiction Aziraphale and Crowley never met until present day and, at the beginning of the story, neither of them knows the other is an angel or a demon. They have both been tasked by their respective head offices to retrieve Raphael's trumpet so Armageddon can start and they both want to find it and destroy it. So they embark on a journey together, thinking that the other is human. This story is so good. It has an incredibly well thought out plot, the characterisation of both, Aziraphale and Crowley are spot on, their interactions are funny and witty but also deep and very sweet. But the point that's dearest to me is that it shows the character of Aziraphale the respect it deserves, which sadly happens less often than it should. The way the writer describe the building of their relationship and their trust will fill your heart with warmth. The stoty has alternate Aziraphale and Crowley POVs and it's narrated in the first person, which will read funny at first but it will flow within the first couple of chapters and it will have been worth it!

This fiction is updated officially every Saturday but if you're very lucky and depending where you are in the world it might be Friday. Only a few more weeks to go, though, it's almost complete and I'll miss it (But I'll re-read it!) Rated M.

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes

This is another excellent "they never met" story. In this universe, Crowley and Aziraphale were stationed on earth, Armageddon happened, and Hell won the war. All the angels have been killed, except one. This story only has the first 6 chapters out, but you can already see the wonderful job the author has done of thinking how Aziraphale and Crowley would be without having ever met each other, what would be the same and what would be different. And the same goes for other characters, too: so far we've had an insight of how Beelzebub is like in a different universe and hints at how other characters would behave as well. It is full of promise, it sets expectations that I'm hoping will be subverted and the writer is doing such an excellent job with it all. Please go and show this story some love, you won't regret it!

This fiction is updated weekly, definitely every Friday, but I understand from now on every Wednesday and Friday. Rated M.

The Escort by VinyamaDN @vinyama-23

Human AU where Crowley is an escort and Aziraphale hires him for a date. They start getting to know each other and the rest is history. This story touches very delicate subjects, but it's also funny and fluffy. Please read the tags. Rated E.

Whickber Street by Caedmon @caedmonfaith

Lovely human AU where Aziraphale has a bookshop in Whickber Street and Crowley opens a comic book shop on the same road. It's a slow burn, from one-enemy-to-lovers story, full of humour, charm and fluff. Featuring all the shopkeepers in Whickber Street, which is a treat! Update every Monday and Thursday without fail. Rated E.

Complete works:

And Now All Of My Garden Is Grown In Lavender by ilikeblue

I'm so grateful to my lovely mutual and penpal @dashuntsel for recommending this great human AU. Aziraphale is a successful queer romance author whose books are being adapted for TV. At the start of his career, his agent, Gabriel, insisted he claims to be married in order to gain more readers. Now that the spotlight is on him, Aziraphale needs someone to play the part of his husband. Did I mention that Crowley is Aziraphale's gardener and friend? I'm sure you know where this is going. This story has a little angst and lots of good vibes of trust, friendship, love and loyalty. And a happy ending! Rated E.

Lit by @fellshish

Fellshish is one of my favourite fiction writers and this piece doesn't disappoint. Making people laugh is much more difficult than making people cry and fellshish succeeds in the task so effortlessly! (They can also make you laugh while wanting to cry, but for that you'll have to read their other stories. This one is angst-free). Time-wise this story can be collocated after season 1 and is not canon compliant with season 2. Crowley enrolls in a literature course without realising it was a fantasy literature course. The book that will be read this semester is "Good Omens - The Nice And Accurate Prophecies Of Agnes Nutter, Witch". And the class will get to meet the author, Neil Gaiman. This book seems to describe only too well the event leading to the failed Armageddon, including things that only Aziraphale and Crowley would know. How is that possible? And what would happen if it fell on heavenly or hellish wrong hands? And, oh Satan, did someone say TV adaptation?? A truly amazing, funny piece that will make you feel better after a hard day at work. Rated Teen and up.

Gate Duty by Ginger_cat @gingiekittycat

Not really a crossover, but a Good Omens fiction with elements of The Good Place. You can absolutely read it and enjoy it if you haven't seen The Good Place. placed in time post season 1. Aziraphale is called back to heaven to Gate Duty and he's decided to go despite Crowley's protest. Crowley has Beelzebub assign him to Gate Duty as well, so they don't have to spend 300 years apart. So they set to out to judge the souls and decide whether to send them to the good place or the bad place, as they have rebranded heaven and hell. In the process they meet a few souls that you might or might not know, not the focus of the story. This fiction manages to be funny and incredibly angsty at the same time and it was incredible to see how some of the details in it would resonate with season 2, which wasn't out at the time the fic was written. Rated E.

Of Size And Other Matters by LCwrites

Lovely from strangers to lovers, fake relationship human AU. Aziraphale needs a date to accompany him to an event hosted by his brother, Gabriel. Crowley receives a text from a stranger, clearly by mistake, but why not having some fun? I really like the dynamics between them, the ease and the trust. A tiny bit of angsty pining but quickly and happily resolved. Rated E.

One shot:

Not Nice by Sad_chaos_goblin @sad-chaos-goblin

Great one shot that follows the wall slamming scene!What would have happened if the former nun hadn't interrupted their "Intimate moment"? This fic is a treat, sweet and hot and fluffy all at the same time. Rated E.

April's list here.

June's list here.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfiction recommendation #good omens fanfic rec #good omend fic rec #good omens fiction #good omens fic rec #thank you for my pornography #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

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foundnthestars · 14 days ago

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HI. I bring Questions. >:]

How long are Dipper and Stan in the portal for? I remember you saying it somewhere a while ago but I can't remember

Does Mabel ever get sent back home? (Home being Piedmont)

Tell me more abt Ford. Just. Anything about him. How does he come to terms with the fact his identity was stolen for 30 years? And that he can't even ask Stan about it? Does he ever learn about the kids interactions with Bill? How does he feel about the new entries in his journal? Just. Tell me abt Ford.

Are there any characters you haven't introduced yet who will be important later on, canon characters or otherwise?

HI! THANK YOU FOR THESE QUESTIONS COPPER!! i was out of town so i wasn't able to answer these until now but i've literally been thinking about them all weekend!!

I. this is a question i've given a lot of thought, and i think i've settled with a date i'm pretty satisfied with! i think stan and dipper would be in the multiverse a MUCH shorter time than mabel and ford would be in your traditional drifting stars au. that would mainly be because ford knows where to get materials faster than stan or dipper would in the same scenario — i.e. crash site omega. but it'd still take a while because ford will have to figure out a way to pinpoint their exact location in the multiverse rather than just rebuilding the portal as according to its original design.

so, they'll be coming back right around early summer/mid summer 2014. right before mabel and dipper's sophomore year of high school. mabel would have gone through the 8th grade and freshman year without dipper :( so about 2 years overall — just in time for the twins' 15th birthday!

i have so many headcanons about the twins' high school experience post-portal. sheesh. so much angst potential. but dipper would have to get up to speed in time to enroll in school with mabel, and ford would definitely spend a lot of time tutoring dipper to get him ready for 10th grade. (no better person to teach a triangle-averse, traumatized teen trigonometry than a triangle-averse, traumatized old man!! yay for trauma-informed mathematics!)

II. THIS. THIS. THIS. The Parents. They Haunt Me.

i'm a sucker for realism in fics (i mean y'all know how i obsessed over the capacity of stan's hearing aid batteries for weeks and couldn't let it go) so working out the twins' parents' role in this was definitely a struggle. it needed to be realistic while also allowing very vital plot points to happen. like mabel staying in gravity falls, for one thing.

so many drifting stars fics don't really talk about the parents, and trust me, i get it! it's hard to write and enjoy ford and mabel bonding when you have two devastated, grieving, hysterical, protective parents trying to yank one party back to boring old piedmont where nothing ever happens and plot goes to die. but i also didn't want their parents to wind up being two shallow, underdeveloped background characters who couldn't care less about where their sole child ended up.

in my opinion, no reasonable, sane parent would let their daughter stay with an adult who was the sole party responsible when their son went missing. i also couldn't really see two grown adults from some random californian suburb suddenly becoming okay with the idea that their son went through an interdimensional portal, no less still letting their daughter stay there after hearing about it.

the only way i could see a parent letting this happen was if they decided somehow that staying home was somehow worse than all possible risks. sure, great uncle stanford let dipper go missing right under his nose, but at least he's apologetic about it. that 70-something year-old man is running around the woods at night looking for their son (apparently). that lumberjack girl is crying at the mention of him while swearing up and down that she'll protect their daughter with her life. there's a 20 year old kid who keeps shoving photos of their son and daughter on some fishing trip in their face and bringing homemade baked goods and dishes his abuelita made for them to take home with them.

and what's waiting for mabel in piedmont? nothing good. nothing resembling a healthy family environment. it's apparently bad enough that their normally spritely, energetic, kind, allergic-to-lying daughter is running away from home in the middle of the night. the pines parents are Not Okay, and they know mabel won't be okay with them either right now. there's a messy divorce and an alcohol problem sneakily brewing and until they can get their shit sorted out they'll have to trust ford to take after mabel for a while.

that's the focus of the next chapter! and it's coming real soon! a lot more will be delved into (it won't be as clear cut as them just shipping her away to gravity falls for 2 years) but mabel's here to stay! [TTDR: Nope!]

III. ahhh ford. i can tell you many things about ford.

mabel is just constantly, always talking about stan. what shows he watches. what color he begrudgingly admitted he liked best when they were finally able to take off his bandages after the Color Incident. the way he takes his coffee in the morning. it doesn't matter what. she just Keeps. On. Sharing. ford has no idea what to make of it at first. stan sacrificed the entire universe and put his own niece and nephew at risk and stole his identity and entire life. how is he supposed to forgive him for that? (he secretly wants to know more and never, ever interrupts mabel when she starts talking about him. blue's his favorite, too. the color of the sea.)

ford gets really freakishly good at acting like stan. he hates doing it but he knows he has to if he wants to keep their story going. when he has to make trips into town, he puts up with people asking him about the shack and dipper and why he's passed the mr. mystery torch over to soos. even though he hates that his identity has been entirely stripped from him, he has to admit that it's nice to be liked by so many strangers. his view of stan gets pretty warped because of this. he has to reconcile a lot with the stan he thinks knows (a.k.a his anger) and who he really is to those around him.

mabel is entirely responsible for making ford the soft, family man he was always destined to be. that will play a HUGE role in his and stan's reconciliation and the way he'll treat him when they come back :) (there will be no punching or arguing, thank you very much)

he learns about bill and the kids in the next chapter. he feels many things. none of them good. i'll let you guys read that for yourselves. i loveee when fics touch on ford's reaction to dipper's possession and bill's interactions with them, and ford will NOT be pleased to hear about any of this or bill's recent rendezvous in mabel's dreamscape

when he reads the entries in the journal, there's far less of the "i can't believe this kid scribbled over my life's work" than there was in canon. mainly because ford is deeply, palpably guilty that dipper got pulled into the portal HE created. here's a child that revered him and ended up losing a huge chunk of his adolescence because of it. he can't pin the blame on stan forever. not when he reads dipper's entries and sees the potential in a life that might be lost to bill or to the harsh realities of the multiverse. (he spends nights reading them and imagining what could have been if things didn't go so horribly wrong).

IV. yes! more important characters on the way. pacifica is the only one of them who is actually included in tags for now :) take from that what you will and for what that says for the future, hehe. super excited to introduce her and to write her dialogue !

there are also some other canon characters who are not tagged yet, because it'd be too big of a spoiler, but are MAJOR to the plot. super excited for those chapters!!

as for OCs, they are vital for plot progression and world building for a fic of this nature but they will never overshadow canon characters or be inserted in any major way. just a bit of fun world building coming for those guys!! i had a lot of fun writing acksyien for that short bit so expect more wacky side characters for dip and stan to meet!

#gravity falls #reverse drifting stars au #the things we lost #mabel pines #dipper pines #stan pines #ford pines #answering asks #I HATE THAT I MADE YOU WAIT SO LONG FOR THIS #also new chapter this week likely!!#guys the headcanons are running wild #but they're centered around a plot point we haven't hit yet and i'm losing my mind #THANK U ALWAYS <3 you're the best

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aethon-recs · 2 years ago

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Hi! Do you take asks? I really like the idea of a tomarry fanfic with a crazy harry like Bellatrix crazy, maybe even being a follower of Voldemort. If you don't have any recs on this just ignore it. <3

Oh hi, yes, I absolutely love this theme/trope. Give me Harry with the crazy eyes, give me Harry with a vicious grin and blood dripping out from between his teeth, give me a feral little gremlin boy who’s been pushed to his limits — and who then decides to push back.

And then paired with Voldemort? A match made in heaven ♡

Tomarrymort Recs with Unhinged/Dark Harry

Again and Again by Athy (M, 335k, WIP)

Harry is on his 12th reincarnation of his same old life, and he can’t figure out a way to break the cycle. By now, he’s become a jaded, bitter, and tired wizard who just wants to die. But in this life, he befriends Voldemort and is given a chance to learn how to live.

As Portioned from a Whole by @cannibalinc (E, 24k, WIP)

In which Lord Voldemort undermines the Prophecy and raises the infant Harry Potter as His; in all aspects.

Bitumen by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 32k, WIP)

Harry finds out the hard way that dementors can’t digest horcruxes. Now separated from his body, his best option is to seek out a similar soul for help, who just so happens to be the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Damaged by @duplicitywrites (E, 26k, WIP)

All his life, Harry has been beaten and bullied—both at home and at school. New student Tom Riddle is handsome, charming, and dangerous. Harry has all the reasons in the world to stay far, far away from him. But he doesn’t.

Descent into Darkness (part 1) / Breeding Darkness (part 2) by Athy (E, 496k, WIP)

Everyone has abandoned Harry when his name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, and he feels utterly alone. Through an accident, Harry and the piece of Voldemort's soul that resides inside him begin to interact, and Harry slowly begins to change. (Note: this fic and its sequel are no longer available on AO3, but it is possible to still find it via Google.)

From Every Ruin by @officialsporkintheroad (M, 5k, complete)

Harry dies during the final battle with Voldemort, but instead of going back to the battle, he wakes up back in the graveyard in his 4th year. Confused with everything, Harry dies, only to wake up at the graveyard again. And again. And again.

Hell is Your Son from Another Dimension by @wynnefic (T, 28k, complete)

A desperate Order of the Phoenix turns to an alternate dimension to summon a hero who has the power to defeat Voldemort. They do get Harry Potter from another dimension, but it’s not entirely who they expect.

nothing left to lose by @cindle-writes (E, 11k, complete)

After the war, what Harry wants more than anything is Tom’s soul piece back inside of him. He goes to desperate measures to attain it.

Painted in Grey by @louveclaviere (M, 34k, WIP)

In a world where Harry Potter is born a few years after Tom Riddle, he becomes Lord Voldemort's most trusted general.

The Foul (part 1) / The Great (part 2) by @meles-merrivale (M, 24k, complete)

Harry travels back in time — very far back in time — and ends up in the Dark Ages. He confronts the worst combination of immortality, fate, and time travel paradoxes.

The Left Words by authoresswithoutwords (M, 235k, complete)

When Harry starts Hogwarts, he finds out that the “Avada Kedavra” on his left wrist means the Dark Lord Voldemort is his soulmate. He hides the words so that no one can see, but he doesn’t become any less of an outcast.

Uncrowned by OatMilkLatte (M, 104k, WIP)

A war between magic and muggles destroys everything that Harry had ever known and loved. He travels back in time to prevent the war, stopping at nothing to carry out his vengeance.

we who walk in shadows black by @evandarandahalf (M, 4k, complete)

In which Harry Potter is a vicious little gremlin who mysteriously knows too much, and Lord Voldemort adores him for it.

#tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #harrymort recs #hp fic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #dark harry potter

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sleepysnk · 1 year ago

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there’s some things i really wanted to talk about especially regarding my account and tumblr as a whole, so i decided to finally make this post as a way to sort of vent out my feelings on some things.

i’m not gonna lie, tumblr has become a very different place from what it was. i started creating content 3 years ago and it’s gone through so many changes (much expected). however, i don’t think tumblr has really changed for the better, especially when it comes to content creators. this used to be a really safe space for me to come on and create works for fandoms that i enjoyed, but recently, that safe space hasn’t felt, well, safe anymore. there is constant discourse everywhere on this platform and i’ve found that many people here are just extremely bitter? it’s almost like it’s become a mean girl center and it makes it difficult to interact with others.

obviously, this doesn’t go for everyone. i’m not trying to come at people specifically or cause issues, but i have seen my fair share of problems with people on here and some of it is just completely ridiculous.

next, i’d like to discuss the elephant in the room and that’s the lack of interaction/support to writers. it is just mind blowing to me that we as creators have to BEG our followers to reblog or even send us asks. obviously, some people are new to tumblr and don’t understand it’s algorithm, but there are people on here who just simply chose not to reblog for some reason?? it’s not only discouraging, but it puts less confidence in writers and then we aren’t motivated to create content. i’ve said this before, but there is no reason why a 2k note fic should have only 100 or so reblogs. likes mean nothing on this platform. it’s not Twitter. i genuinely have gotten so tired of repeating myself that i don’t even say it anymore because i know it won’t be acknowledged.

i understand people have lives, i do too, but it isn’t hard to send an ask to a writer about literally anything. i think the last time i had an anon ask was weeks ago and i genuinely get disappointed when i ask for interactions just to receive nothing? no one is obligated to speak with me or send me asks by any means, but a little “hey! how are you?” goes a long way. i probably sound ridiculous, but it’s just how i feel about the matter.

another thing that bothers me is when a writer doesn’t write smut or suggestive content, they hardly get any interaction. i’ve seen it myself before and i’m not sure why people just ignore greatly written fics?? i understand that smut is the main appeal. trust me, i 100% get it, but fluff writers hardly get any attention and some of the best fics i’ve read weren’t even smut related. i’m not saying every person here has to read fluff or angst fics by any means, but it makes me sad that people write these fics to hardly get any interaction because it isn’t smut content. the least y’all can do is reblog it.

to discuss my account, i honestly don’t really feel the most happy here. i don’t have as much motivation as i used to and i have contemplated removing my account, but i have some great fics i’d rather not have be deleted. i might start a new account for a fresh start, but i’m still not 100% on it.

and if you read this till the end, thank you! i probably sound like a whiny baby but i just wanted to express some of my feelings because it’s been weighing on me a lot recently.

#summer rants #uhhh #yeah!#lowkey needed to speak on this #also emmie thank u for being motivation for this #!!!!

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

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You know what concept doesn’t get explored enough in Dreamling fic? Dream teaching Hob how to read. Like, I’ve seen one or two off mentions of it in canon adjacent fic, but nothing that really gives focus to that idea, y’know? And while I think it would be fun in canon, I’m gonna go au real quick.

So Hob as one of those kids unfortunately left behind. Probably a combination of living in poverty and his undiagnosed adhd. And he’s definitely way too embarrassed by this to actually ask anyone to teach him. So now he’s an adult who doesn’t know much more than his own name and his numbers. And while that probably wouldn’t be enough for most people to get by, what Hob DOES have are people skills. His ability to charm people and talk around them let’s him get through life well enough.

Then there’s Dream, mister wet cat himself. If he’s not an Author™️ then he’s definitely a voracious reader. But he has a personality of a damp paper bag. Like, even he has to admit his lack of social skills is actively hindering his life and relationships at this point. Probably add some autism for ✨flavor✨

But Dream does have moments where he’s too observant for his own good. Which is how he clocks that Hob avoids reading like the plague. (I’m envisioning Hob as a bartender at the pub Dream goes to to try and learn human behavior. But idk if he could avoid reading with that job.)

So Dream corners Hob and proposes a trade off: Dream will teach him how to read and Hob will teach him some social skills. Once Hob realizes he’s not being threatened (seriously, Dream really sucks at this talking to people thing) he hesitantly agrees. At least it’s less embarrassing if Dream also needs to be taught something? And it would be rather helpful…

Obviously during the course of their lessons they fall in love 🥰

This means so much to me!!!! I love it. The idea of Hob hiding the fact that he can't read is so heartbreaking but actually so real and its way more common than people imagine.

I also love the idea of Hob + Dream = One Normal Functioning Adult. That's my favourite thing, when they're each other's missing puzzle piece <3

I figure that Hob might have picked up a few words from around the environment of the bar. Like, each tap has a label on and he knows exactly which is which and he can technically read "Guiness" and "Wherry" and a few others, but they're not the most useful words. Anyways, Dream gets the idea that he'll keep using things around the pub to teach Hob to read: menus, newspapers, posters for old gigs, crisp packets. It's a good way for Hob to build confidence before Dream presents him with an actual book.

And similarly Hob uses the bar as a place to teach Dream about social skills. He coaches him through identifying body language and expressions, quizzing Dream on how he thought each customer might be feeling. Then he encourages three way conversations between him, Dream and regular customers. He gives Dream topics to focus on and gives him safe ways to get out of an interaction that he's not vibing with.

By the time Hob stumbles his way through his first novel, Dream is able to talk to a stranger about the weather without any issues. And they're both mutually crushing on each other so hard!! It only seems fitting that the pub which has been such a cornerstone for their friendship and some pretty awesome personal milestones, is also the place where they have their first date.

Hob reads love sonnets to Dream in a hushed undertone. And it's like the whole building sighs happily at the sights of them together <3

#acedragontype #the sandman #dreamling

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hysterical-honey · 1 month ago

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Admiration ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ‡ǂ

Edward Nashton x Fem!Reader [1/2] AO3 Word Count: 2,393 Summary: You bake the pies, serve patrons, and all the while, you feel the oppressive weight of eyes on you. Unaware of the terror you've attracted, you try your hardest to make the most of your thankless job in this hopeless city. TWS//: Reader uses fem pronouns, Stalking, Voyeurism, Mentions of masturbation, Mentions of sex, and Mentions of nonconsensual sex, I have not yet read Year One, Takes place years before the events of The Batman (2022), Edward breaks into your apartment and watches you sleep. AN: This is a rewrite of my first published fic; I've been thinking about it a lot and wanted to try and polish it off. This silly guy lives in my head rent-free. My inbox is open along with requests, xoxo.

It's a night no different from the one before; even in mid-September, the weather is oppressively cold and wet. A foggy haze overlooking the city. As the gutters flood with grime and filth from the streets. City-dwellers scurry around to evade the downpour. Rain like this usually only lasts until later in the morning. It's half-past eleven, and it isn't necessary to check any clocks; your body language makes it so painfully obvious what time it is. It's a Friday, meaning your shift ends at twelve. By the end of your shift, your homely and congenial disposition declines. The differences are subtle; your shoulders hunch slightly, and you walk much faster, no doubt in an attempt to get things done more time efficiently. You just want to go home, he's sure; it's evident in the way your typically nervous laugh seems much less polite and much more exasperated, teetering on dismissive when some of the older men try to start up small talk as you top off their coffee. The changes are slight, but Edward has an eye for them. Every small and insignificant thing you do can be viewed and analyzed to his liking.

Edward always had a habit of staring at people, though he isn't shameless about it. While he might tend to gawk, it's habitually only once they've turned away from him. To look directly at someone for too long makes him feel uneasy. Most people don't take notice of him anyhow; living in a city, one learns to brush past the watching eyes of strangers; he assumes you didn't grow up in a city, not such as Gotham, anyway, because you seem to take notice of it all. There have been many different instances of you taking a look back at him, often not directly, but regardless, he's sure you can feel his eyes boring into you. You have this peculiar habit of looking yourself over after you've given a table their order or anything at all. You peer down nervously at your hands or check that your uniform is not wrinkled or pulled down in unsavory places. It's almost obsessive, and he can't tell if you're just that self-conscious or that self-centered. It's likely just some nervous tick you have, but even as Edward might know and understand that notion, you do it even in the comfort of your apartment. It planted this terrible belief in his mind that you know he's there, watching you.

You have yet to interact beyond taking his order and politely casual remarks. Despite his delusional and selfishly idealistic mindset, he isn't stupid. Edward is well aware that his social ineptitude is crippling his perception and understanding of you as a person. He can watch you and know your routine, mannerisms, and what you love or hate, but there's a difference between knowing something about someone and understanding them. Edward desperately wants to crawl into the cavity of your mind and settle himself inside. So much so it hurts; however, whenever the chance comes about, he can't even bear to look at you, much less speak to you casually. A sickly feeling fills the pit of his stomach, and all he can do is quickly state what he wants, which is typically just 'the usual.'

From across the diner, he watches with wide eyes. It's like an alarm goes off in your head, eyes watching with intent you can't place. You turn your head, and his eyes quickly dart up to the TV above in the corner of the bar counter; his chest tightens with overwhelming pressure. It's a thrill, the thrill one experiences after they've been caught in the act of something presumably wrong. You don't look at him directly; your eyes passively run over the remaining customers or lack thereof. It's a quarter to twelve, and the uneasy feeling you have won't let up. It never does; it used to be this idea in your mind. Ever since you were a child, you've always been horrifically paranoid of someone watching you. Even living in a small town, you'd always felt faceless eyes on you, whether alone or in a crowd, glued to you, judging every move you might make before you even made it. Though now, as you've gotten older, that once dominating feeling has been watered down. This is different, you think, unlike what you've felt before.

You don't quite know his name, but you see him everywhere. You've tried telling yourself he looks that typical, that you see him in so many different places because his haircut is popular and clear-rimmed glasses are in fashion right now. For almost a year, you've seen him here at work, on the train home, in the lobby of your apartment, in the bookstore you frequent, and sometimes you see those big green eyes in your dreams. Faceless, never speaking, never taking action, but always watching. Sometimes, you feel he looks exceptionally ordinary and commonplace because it's an easy disguise. When you first saw him, you must admit that he seemed sweet with his boyishly round face and dorky veneer, perhaps even cute, but that glint in his eyes—the eyes you rarely ever found peering back into your own, made you feel uneasy. Despite your intuition, you shove the thought from your mind, throwing the last cotton-wrapped silverware set into the big green-grey plastic bin. The only people left were you, the head chef, and that man at the end of the bar counter. Turning your head again, you appeared from the little hallway between the kitchen and the main diner. That man is gone. His coffee cup is empty, the plate is nearly clean, and three five-dollar bills are left behind. Sighing, you clean up what's left and collect your tip.

Everything else was done and taken care of. The head chef, Mickey, had already wrapped up the remnants of that evening's pie. You caught him practically stuffing it into his 'man-bag,' as he insisted on calling it. Going on and on about how good it was, so naturally, his kids would want some, and his wife might like a slice tomorrow with her coffee.

"Y'know, I don't get why they got you makin' 'em but not plannin' 'em? I mean, it's almost October, and cranberry apple seems… more…a Christmas typa pie, right?" He asked, his voice heavy with an accent you couldn't place. You just knew some people around here had it, and some didn't. Slinging his 'man-bag' over his shoulder, waiting for you to be ready. All you would do is shrug in response.

"Well, Joel bought a fuck-ton of those apples, Mickey, and I know damn well he's trying to get his money's worth by getting rid of them. Besides, pie is pie; nobody cares much about how seasonal it is. As long as it's pumpkin in October and pecan in December, nobody complains about the 'typa pie'... except you," You put your coat on; a little smile spread across your lips as you grabbed your purse. Mickey put on a comically hurt expression, his wrinkled and liver-spotted face putting on a pout. "Well, keep talkin' like 'at an' maybe you won't have an escort to the train station." You'd only roll your eyes. Mickey always walked with you; being one of three servers with no kids, you were typically the one left to close, and Mickey usually stayed behind for the extra fifty dollars it added to his paycheck.

"Yeah, sure," You'd mumble. You both took the train with different routes, and Mickey, being the old man he is, hated the idea of a 'pretty young thing like you walkin' 'round at night in this part of the city.'

– ——<-?->—— – = – ——<-?->—— – = – ——<-?->—— –

The train ride and walk home are vague in your mind, a flash of pointless happenings you don't bother mulling over. The eyes never leave, nor do you expect them to, within the company of others. In recent years, the subconscious worry of prying eyes has seemed to dull down. Things felt fine on the way into the station; idle talk with Mickey and his almost annoying insistence on eye contact didn't bother you anymore or less than ever before. You felt exposed when he left, even more so once you crossed the threshold into this big tin box—not taking immediate note of the oddly familiar indigo coat and well-maintained sandy brown hair. You kept your eyes glued to your shoes, just as always.

It can never just rain in Gotham; no, it pours. The rain is violent and greedy as it floods, covers, and consumes everything it can—even your little apartment. You push open the shabby door to your studio apartment, glancing at the microwave hovering over the stove and reading the time; it's midnight. Your eyes mull over the rest of your small yet cozy living space until they focus on the water puddled under the window closest to your bed.

"What the fuck," you quietly huff, looking up at your water-damaged popcorn ceiling, making sure it isn't leaking anywhere. After the inspection, you walk closer, eyeing the slick hardwood floor and those cheap green satin curtains you bought when you first moved in; why weren't they wet? Only the very bottom of the set touched the water. There was no draft blowing the curtains away; they covered the window. Could you even remember to close them? Pulling away the dry, cheap satin, the window is closed and locked. Just as you assumed you'd left it. Peering out into the wet street, pitch black save for a singular yellow streetlight, you can't shake the terrible feeling you have. The anxiety that throbs within the pit of your stomach. Worst case scenario plaguing your mind before you try to push it all away. "I'm just freaking myself out over nothing…This.." You habitually spoke aloud, even privately; Edward found that almost cute. He could hear your trembling voice even in his little spot, which he always nestled himself into during these nights.

On nights like these, he decided he wanted to spend more time than he ought to, drinking up your routine. He hadn't meant to leave such a mess; he almost cleaned it up before realizing it might be better to leave it than leave evidence a mess was cleaned in the first place. With wide, vigilant eyes, he watched you walk away from the window and into the bathroom. The audible click of the switch and yellow light pouring in, even from under your bed. A little split at the right corner edge of your bed skirt, giving him an almost clear view of you as you cleaned up the cold, wet mess. Perhaps you assumed your window leaked, the wind coming in so treacherously and violently it managed to get past the cheap oak.

Something feels off; he notes how you sit and stare momentarily. You couldn't know he was here, and if you'd taken a little longer on your route home like you usually do, he wouldn't have been so messy and quick about finding his way in. Usually, he just used his key, which he had stolen a while back. You'd already paid for a replica to be made, something he felt terrible about, but it couldn't be helped. He just tipped you a fifty the next day, anyway. Today, while still in his pocket, he couldn't help but feel intimidated by the flood of people in the lobby of your apartment building—too many people to possibly remember his face if the questioning was necessary. Not that he would ever hurt you, but the future is unpredictable, and Edward can't afford any genuine risk concerning his little hobby. He can't see your face, but he can tell; the way you stand up and keep your head tilted downwards to the still slick wood, you're lost in thought.

You feel so numb, unsure of yourself, and you try to justify how on earth the water could have gotten in. No matter how you try to rationalize, that dangerous feeling returns. You're being watched, aren't you? Did someone break in, or is the window broken in some area you can't see? This heavy part of you wants to check, to search around and hope you're crazy, but another knows you aren't. If you look, you'll find those eyes. This isn't the first time you've felt this; it feels like you have proof of something, but every time you see it, you try to ignore it. Try to cast it away and not worry because if it is true, if there is a man or woman in your apartment, wouldn't they have hurt you by now? If you find them, they may as well kill you unless they're waiting for you to fall asleep. See, how stupid does that sound? Why on earth would someone break into your apartment just to watch you? No, this is all silly. You feel those eyes, intense and imposing, but you walk away to the bathroom anyway. You have a routine to keep up, of course.

– ——<-?->—— – = – ——<-?->—— – = – ——<-?->—— –

The alarm clock on your bedside table reads precisely 2:30 A.m., and you've managed to fall asleep. Your breathing becomes heavy, and occasionally, you snore or hum something incoherent as you shift onto your other side. Edward always loves to take mental notes of what you do; he isn't sure why, but the details are his favorite part. The little things, the signs and signals he feels, make his job regarding you easier. Even now, standing over you, hidden in the shadows of your room, given your placement in the city, it was a wonder how you managed to keep it so dark, No yellowed light peering in from the cracks in your curtains and even the neon green of your alarm is dull and soft. You can't sleep with any light or noise; you're an exceptionally light sleeper, much like him. The white noise in your room is from the heater and fan, and there are no cars or screaming. Stark silence aside from your and his own breathing.

The scene would be almost peaceful if it weren't for his hefty and ragged breathing, for the disgustingly vile reality that Edward could not admit even to himself. The reality of what he was about to do.

#Edward Nashton x reader #Dano riddler x reader #the batman (2022)#The Riddler x reader

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