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yanderedrabbles · 2 days ago

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Yandere Days of the Week

Monday is your grouchy and uptight coworker. He's a stickler for the rules and not someone who confesses his feelings. He'll usually push his spectacles up his nose and frown at you whenever you try and do something new, no matter how simple.

"What did I say about filling out the spreadsheets by yourself? You've confused all the figures."

He'll push both you and your chair out of the way and settle himself at your desk like one messed up spreadsheet means the death of the whole company. If you ever try and thank him, he'll glare at you like you've insulted his whole bloodline.

"Tch. Just ask me next time."

If you pay attention, you might notice the blush that tinges his cheeks whenever you smile at him. You might notice the way he straightens his already perfect tie before coming over to harangue you about company dress code and your slightly-too-short skirts. (Why is he noticing your skirt length to begin with? Perv).

Luckily for him, you're usually too irritated or harassed to pay attention. His secret crush will be staying a secret for as long as he can manage.

Tuesday is your overly sweet neighbour. He introduced himself to you the second you moved in - offering you a tupperware of homecooked food because he knew exactly how overwhelming moving in could be. He's the guy you call when you need a shelf hung up or a stubborn jar opened. He'll raise his brows when you thank him, secretly pleased that you asked for his help.

"That's what neighbours are for, right?"

He doesn't mention that the previous tenants left him a spare key to your apartment. What if you get hurt one day while you're locked inside, with no one able to reach you in time? It's safer for you both if he keeps it a secret.

And if he occasionally let's himself into your apartment while you're at work, it's just to keep an eye on the place. It's what any good neighbour would do. So stop wondering what the white stains on your panties are, okay?

Wednesday is your unassuming classmate. They're the quiet kind, apt to fade into the background without meaning to.

At first, they were envious of you. Pretty, clever, friendly - you aren't the type people can easily ignore. They watch you whenever they can, desperate to somehow copy that elusive charm that makes you so special.

It doesn't work, obviously. When they try smiling like you it looks stiff and unnatural. When they copy your outfits they feel exposed, self conscious. When they try wearing the same perfume as you they break out in hives that last all week.

They can't be you. No one can.

But they aren't going to give up so easily. Maybe your luck doesn't come from clothes or hair or makeup. Maybe it's something deep inside of you, something that can be ripped out and kept for themselves.

They're going to learn what makes you so special, even if it means following you home with duct tape and chloroform.

Thursday is your favourite professor. He's the quietly confident type, the kind of man who doesn't have to shout to keep the lecture hall's attention. He's insightful and empathetic, his brown eyes always warm.

You trust him totally and completely. You don't notice when he starts resting his hand on your lower back whenever you stand next to him. You don't notice that your papers are always graded more harshly than your classmates. You don't realise he wants you, not even when he offers you private office hours despite his packed schedule.

You're a real cock tease, always looking at him with those doe eyes and pretty lips. He's a patient man - he'll have you eventually. It doesn't matter if it takes him two weeks or two years, he'll keep dropping your grades until you beg him for help.

You trust him. You really, really shouldn't.

Friday is the star athlete that everyone admires. Handsome, confident, clever. A man like that would usually invite envy, would get dirty looks thrown at his back and nasty surprises in his locker.

Not him though. Everyone loves Friday.

Well, everyone except for you. There's something about him that frightens you. Underneath his golden boy facade, there's something rotten and selfish.

You don't realise he's noticed your dislike until he corners you after class one day. He wraps one hand around your wrist as everyone files out of the lecture hall, too eager for the weekend to notice the slightly panicked look on your face.

"Listen, I hate to think I've done something to offend you. If I have, just tell me now and we can sort it out," he tells you, blue eyes cold and distant despite his pretty boy smile.

You tug at your wrist but his grip is unbreakable. He isn't hurting you, but his strength keeps you right where he wants you.

"We barely even know each other," you say, your eyes jumping to the door and the suddenly empty corridors. "I don't have any issue with you."

"That's a lie and we both know it. I don't want to push you, but I'm not letting you go until I know what I've done."

You finally meet his eyes. "You have it too easy in life. You get everything you want. I don't hate you. But I don't like you either."

His expression is a careful blank. "I'm not going to apologise for what I have or for what I've been given."

You tug at your wrist again and he finally let's you go.

"I don't expect you to," you mutter as you swing your bag over your shoulder and hurry out the door.

He watches you leave and inside him some selfish, possessive creature lifts its head and growls. You should have known - when a man with everything he could ever want is shown something he can't have, that just makes him want it all the more.

"Gonna make her mine," he says to the empty classroom. A promise or a threat, even he can't be sure.

Saturday is a party girl. The kind of bombshell who wears a tiny metallic bikini, a cowboy hat and absolutely nothing else to a rave.

She knows every kind of cocktail and every kind of fun time pill. She's shamelessly cocky and shamelessly outgoing. When you run into her at a concert, she'll get you all the way to the stage no matter how packed the crowds are.

You'd think a girl like that would know all about boundaries and consent and you'd be right. The thing is, she ignores it just as easily as she ignores speed limits and DUI citations.

She'll kiss you when you're too drunk to say no. She'll give you pills that she knows you can't handle just to take you home. She'll ignore you when you try and push her away, weak and intoxicated and too woozy to form a full sentence.

And the worst part? She knows you won't report her. Girls can get drunk and touchy without it ever being called a crime.

She'll run her hands up your thighs and nip your neck and tell you she loves you. But she's always long gone by morning.

She's just a girl, your honour. And she'll use that excuse as many times as she needs to.

Sunday is your local barista. He's an artist on the side, the kind of creative soul who can't express himself without the help of charcoal and acrylic.

He's too stoic to ever work the cash register or take orders, but he somehow always ends up there when you're in line.

He usually sneaks an extra sweet treat into your order. And if he has the time, he'll usually leave a little doodle on your receipt.

He hasn't spoken to you much, but he can feel the red thread of fate tugging you closer everyday. You're soulmates, lovers meant to be, fated by heaven and all its angels.

It doesn't matter how long it takes, you'll be his eventually. He can read it in the stars.

#Yandere Days of the week #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #soft yandere #yandere writing #yanderecore #Fem Reader #yandere x darling

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heartysworld · 3 days ago

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Missing U // Ridoc Gamlyn x Reader

MASTERLIST

W.C: 2.3k

A/N: After reading Onyx Storm I keep getting random ideas and I couldn't pass on writing this one :)

Two weeks.

Two whole, agonizing weeks without Ridoc’s warmth beside you, without his ridiculous jokes at the worst possible moments, without his arms wrapped around you like a human furnace.

Your bed has never felt emptier.

Every night, you curl up beneath the covers, but it’s not the same. There’s no Ridoc grumbling about how you’re a blanket thief, no sleep-mumbled jokes about dragons snoring louder than Xaden, and no lazy morning kisses before the day drags you both into the chaos of Basgiath.

You miss the way he always, always found a way to touch you, even in sleep—an arm slung over your waist, his nose buried in your hair, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. Without him, the nights stretch unbearably long, and no amount of blankets can replace the warmth he brings.

So when Rhiannon and Violet tell you he’s back and has a surprise for you, you don’t think. You run.

The Vale is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wings and the deep, rumbling breaths of resting dragons. The air is crisp, carrying the familiar scent of smoke and earth. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation thrumming through your veins as your eyes scan the open space.

Then, you see him.

Ridoc stands beside Aotrom, his brown hair messier than usual—probably from the wind, or from running his hands through it nervously. He’s shifting from foot to foot, the way he always does when he’s excited but trying and failing to play it cool.

Your breath catches, and before you can call out his name, Aotrom lifts his head, lets out a soft huff, and shifts to the side—revealing something burned into the ground.

You blink. Then take a step closer.

I LOVE YO

You tilt your head. Something’s… missing.

Ridoc turns, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. “Y/N!” His entire body practically vibrates with energy, and before you can say anything, he gestures toward the ground with both hands. “Ta-da!”

Your gaze flicks back to the message. The last letter is definitely missing.

Slowly, you lift an eyebrow. “Ridoc,” you say, voice thick with amusement, “where’s the ‘U’?”

Ridoc freezes. “Wait, what?” He whips around, eyes scanning the scorched words. The moment he notices, he groans dramatically and drags a hand down his face. “Oh, come on!”

Aotrom lets out a very unbothered-sounding snort.

Ridoc turns on his dragon, hands on his hips. “Dude. You had one job.”

Aotrom flicks his tail, the picture of innocence.

You cross your arms, biting back a grin. “Ridoc,” you repeat, “why is there no ‘U’?”

Ridoc sighs, shooting Aotrom another look before turning back to you. “Okay, so technically the ‘U’ was there… but right as Aotrom was finishing it, he saw a sheep on one of the lower fields and, uh… immediately took off.”

Your jaw drops. “You’re telling me your dragon abandoned your romantic gesture for a sheep?”

Ridoc throws his hands up. “He really likes sheep, Y/N! I can’t control his cravings!”

Aotrom rumbles contentedly, as if to confirm this fact.

You press a hand to your mouth, but the laughter breaks free anyway. “Only you, Ridoc.”

Ridoc grins, clearly relieved you’re laughing instead of being upset. Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly produces a bouquet from behind his back. “Okay, so the message is a little… incomplete, but this survived.” He steps closer, pressing the flowers into your hands. “Happy anniversary, Y/N.”

Your fingers tighten around the bouquet, your heart swelling. “Happy anniversary, Ridoc.”

His usual playful smirk softens into something more sincere. “Gods, I missed you.” His voice drops slightly, and his eyes roam over your face like he’s memorizing every detail. “Sleeping alone is the worst. Do you know how many times I woke up reaching for you, only to grab a pillow?”

Your chest tightens. “I know,” you admit. “I kept waking up cold.”

Ridoc groans dramatically, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in. “That’s it, I’m never leaving again. Two weeks is way too long. I almost died, Y/N. Died.”

You snort, resting your head against his shoulder. “From what? Sheep deprivation?”

“Exactly!” he exclaims before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His voice drops to something softer, more serious. “I love you. Even if Aotrom forgot the ‘U.’”

You smile, reaching up to brush his messy hair from his face. “I got the message.”

Ridoc watches you for a beat, his expression shifting, turning softer, more intense. Then he cups your face, his palms warm and slightly rough from training. “Can I kiss you now?”

You laugh, but it comes out breathless. “I think you’re required to.”

He doesn’t waste a second.

Ridoc leans in, and the moment his lips press against yours, everything else fades away—the teasing, the missing letter, the two agonizing weeks apart. He kisses you slowly at first, like he’s savoring the

’s trying to make up for every second you spent apart. Then, as if he can’t help himself, he deepens it, tilting his head to fit his lips against yours more perfectly. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Your fingers tangle in his messy hair, and he lets out a quiet, contented sigh against your lips. The warmth of him, the way he tastes like fresh air and something undeniably Ridoc, makes your head spin.

When he finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, his breath slightly uneven. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice full of wonder, “definitely never leaving for that long again.”

You smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “You better not.”

Ridoc sighs dramatically, pulling you into his chest again. “I suffered, Y/N. Two weeks without you? Pure agony.”

You laugh softly, letting yourself sink into him. “Oh, the horror.”

Ridoc grins. “You joke, but do you know how many times I woke up thinking you were there? Only to grab a pillow?” He shudders. “It was tragic.”

“I do know,” you admit, voice quieter now. “Because it was the same for me.”

His arms tighten around you, and for a moment, he just holds you, warm and solid and here.

Then, as if unable to help himself, he presses another kiss to your temple. “You’re not sleeping alone tonight.”

The certainty in his voice sends warmth curling through you.

“Good,” you murmur. “Because I was not looking forward to another cold bed.”

Ridoc hums, tugging you toward Aotrom. “Then let’s get out of here. I already suffered through two weeks without you—I’m not wasting another second.”

Aotrom lets out an exaggerated sigh, as if deeply inconvenienced by his rider’s affection. But even as he huffs dramatically, his tail flicks in amusement, his green eyes twinkling.

You glance at the scorched I LOVE YO on the ground one last time, shaking your head fondly. “Still can’t believe Aotrom abandoned romance for a sheep.”

Ridoc groans. “Don’t remind me. I’m gonna have to do something even bigger next year to make up for it.”

You smirk. “Well, you could start by actually spelling out the whole thing next time.”

Ridoc laughs, scooping you up onto Aotrom’s back before climbing up behind you. As his arms wrap securely around your waist, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, voice warm against your skin.

“Next time, I’ll make sure the whole kingdom knows just how much I love you.”

And as Aotrom takes off into the sky, the wind whipping through your hair and Ridoc’s laughter ringing in your ears, you know that no matter where life takes you, as long as you have him, you’ll never feel cold again.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing fluff #fourth wing fandom #fourth wing fic #ridoc gamlyn #ridoc gamlyn x reader #ridoc gamlyn fluff #ridoc gamlyn x y/n #xaden riorson x reader #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #bodhi durran x reader

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korebringerofded · 2 days ago

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We Don't Talk About It- Zoro X FReader

Summary- It was easier to be casual, no strings attached with your fellow crewmate, but things get complicated. A/N- In the thralls of depression and managed to write something. No edit. No proofread. Rawdogging life rn. Don't judge me too hard. Warnings- Mentions of sex, fwb, cursing, reader is called 'my girl' by zoro like once, smut at the end, oral (f recieveing), Zoro a has big cock, Zoro almost (but doesn't) kill an npc.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated. All requests are open and you can find my entire masterlist here.

You wouldn’t necessarily say that your relationship with Roronora Zoro was complicated, you two agreed rather early on in your arrangement that it would be nothing more than casual sex, a heated passion of tongues and heat, hands desperately tearing clothes from sweaty bodies when the other felt that hot aching hunger that couldn’t go unsatiated.

Nothing more, of course. Just a fun and harmless way to let off steam. What’s the worst thing that could go wrong with fucking your crewmate anyways, right?

Nevermind all the times you would doze off in his arms, the ocean breeze ruffling his fuzzy green hair as you laid on his chest, all while your fingers easily traced along the sprawling scar across his chest. The whole time you lay there, all the famous sword-fighter can do is set your annoyingly cute face to memory.

You both swore it was casual, even when Zoro bought so many useless, pointless things, for the chance he would get to see your smile, hear the very laugh that kept him up at night. The way fiery rage would boil through him anytime he saw anyone flirting with you, touching you.

But of course, it wasn’t anything serious. Just casual, no-strings-attached, sometimes drunken, sex. Neither of you needed any distractions, after all.

Sure, maybe Zoro daydreamed about your taste, maybe he knew each and every place you liked to be touched. And yeah, maybe Zoro spent hours thinking about your lips on his cock, like you were his only relief, like he couldn’t cum without imagining your fucking eyes fluttering up at him,so glossy and wide, because fuck his own hand was incomparable to yours, no matter how many times he fucked his fist, it wasn’t the same as you.

But that was fine, normal even…right?

That’s exactly why you shouldn’t have cared, shouldn’t have felt a single thing as you stood at the edge of a crowded bar, the entire crew drinking and chatting and yet despite yourself, despite all the denial, you were noticeably distracted, eyes glued to the bar.

Zoro had (unsurprisingly) over-indulged, leaning against the bar with hazy and glossy eyes, a lazy grin on his face as a stranger, a young woman almost shamelessly flirted with him, a manicured hand trailing up his arm, probably admiring his toned muscles, the ones you had grown so used to, the ones you found yourself missing more and more.

You two weren’t exclusive, you had both fucked other people before and yet…that didn’t change the pang of jealousy that burned in your chest, spreading up and over your cheeks. You let out an audible sigh, making some vague excuse about needing air before pushing through the crowd and out into the cool, empty streets. You swallowed down the fresh air, letting the crisp breeze blow over you to cool your nerves, the heartache you chose to ignore.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who had followed after you, the familiar scent of sake and salty ocean air filling your senses, as Zoro leaned against the wall next to you. He was quiet for a while, the only sound on the near empty street was the festivities inside the tavern.

The entire time you could feel Zoro’s steely eye locked on you, his brows furrowed just slightly. He didn’t say anything, just occasionally glancing at you. You hated how it made you simmer, how much it affected you, even now. It all made your earlier frustrations bubble up as if they were fresh wounds.

You shot him a look, his tilted head, and slightly pink cheeks only making your anger burn and brew in your chest.

“What?” Your tone was sharper than you intended, making you quickly turn away from his annoying face.

"What’s with the cold shoulder?” Zoro huffed, moving to stand in front of you, a hand against the wall behind you, his hand going to your chin.

He leaned in closer and- you could smell that woman's perfume, lingering on his skin and you scoffed, pulling away from him.

“I’m surprised you remembered I was even here.” You rolled your eyes, hating the jealousy that burned through your chest.

Zoro could just blink at you, eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from him, his eye scanning over you, the clenched fists, the anger that boiled.

“So…you’re pissed at me or somethin’?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“No.” You said sharply. “So go back to your new little friend.” You turned to walk away from him.

“Tsk.” Zoro let out a breath, a pang of irritation rushing through him. “That’s what has you so upset?” He wanted to laugh, his jaw tight.

You took in a deep breath, trying to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret. Still, you hated this nauseating jealousy that was building within your chest. You tilted your head back to look at him, his expression tight as he stared down at you.

“You were flirting with that fucking cook all night, and I get the third degree for talking to another woman?” Zoro laughed darkly, shaking his head as he got nose-to-nose with you.

“Since when do you care about that?” You huffed, tone coming out sharper than you intended. Sure, maybe you had been talking to Sanji that night but it wasn’t like that, not at all.

“I-.” Zoro took a step forward, his eye softening just slightly as his mouth hung open, so many unspoken words that danced on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill over.

“Of course I care.” Was what he wanted to say, was what every cell and atom in his body screamed at him to say.

The silence was so heavy, and your eyes on him so intensely only made it worse, he just wanted to kiss that damn look off your face and be done with this.

Instead, he tightened his jaw and scoffed, shaking his head in frustration.

“I don’t care. Fuck whoever you want. I will fuck whoever I want.” He snapped, hating the way his ears burned, hating the way the words felt on his tongue even as he walked away.

It was a lie, of course it was a lie.

Almost two weeks of the silent treatment from you was enough to descend the swordsman into shambles, his jaw tight and lone eye twitching. The entire crew could sense it, the tension, divide, the way Zoro watched your each and every move and how you, in turn, ignored all of his advances to bridge the ever growing gap between you two.

Maybe you were pushing this all a little too far, being too hard on the swordsman. You never agreed on anything exclusive, had never wanted it to be exclusive before. No matter how many times you tried to remind yourself of that, it didn’t soften the blow.

That heartache was probably how you ended up here, drinking entirely too much in a crowded bar. Nami sat across from you, equally drunk as you were. Countless glasses sat on the table the two of you leaned against.

You had definitely gotten too drunk, more drunk than you had intended to.Your mind was reeling and cheeks pink as you danced incredibly close with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember. You don’t even remember telling him your own name nor him telling you his. His hand curled around your hip, his warmth seeping into you as his leg pressed between your thighs. It wasn’t the same, of course. And no matter how hard you tried to push it from your mind, he wasn’t who you wanted.

You sighed, shamelessly tilting your head back as you felt this complete stranger push his thigh between your legs, bodies pressed so close your breasts pushed to his hard chest, the skirt of your dress pushing up more and more as his hands wandered over your thighs and hips.

And then all at once- as if an unseeable force just ripped the stranger away, leaving you blinking and gasping as your bleary eyes took in the scene before you.

Zoro stood there, his face twisted in rage as held the man up by the edges of his shirt, his chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. His eyes full of fiery rage, his breath coming out in deep huffs.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Zoro growled, dropping him and the minute the man's feet touched the ground, he shoved his hand flat against the man's chest, the impact sending a deep crunch echoing through the bar as the man practically flew, colliding with the wall in a sickening crack.

You could just stand there, stupidly drunk, doe-eyed and cheeks so pink it just made Zoro’s head spin more, the beer he had drank that night still simmering in his veins.

“We are leaving. Now.” He said, leaving no room for question as he grabbed your arm and started to pull you after him.

You immediately shoved his hands away, arms crossing over your hips as Zoro slowly turned back to you, the veins in his muscled arms twitching as he got nose-to-nose with him.

“Why did you do that?!” You snapped, shoving at his shoulders, though Zoro could just stare down at you, nostrils flaring.

“Why?” Zoro laughed humorlessly, like ice running down your spine. Zoro inhaled deeply, shaking his head.

Without another word, Zoro had you scooped up and tossed over his shoulder. He didn’t care that everyone in the place had witnessed the scene. He just ignored your curses, ignored the squirms and the way you smacked and hit him you ranted at him. HIs silence only made you more angry as he carried you out of the bar and down the dark street.

“Put me down, you piece of shit!’ You huffed

You hated feeling like this, so vulnerable, so furious, even when you knew you had no right to be.

And eventually he did put you down, waiting until you had stopped cursing and smacking him.

He was gentle as he sat you back down on unsteady heels.You could only glare up at him, cheeks pink from all the drinks you had, definitely too much.

“Do you enjoy fucking with me?” He asked, eye sharp and full of icy rage.

“Excuse m-.” You started, but Zoro moved forward, his hand slamming audibly on the wall behind you, trapping you in with his arms, the muscles twitching and tight.

“You ignore me for days, I go to find you, to try and fix whatever this is.” He waves his hand between the two of you. “And then, I hear from long-nose that you’re going out. I searched every bar in this fucking town and this is what I find.” Zoro growled, his hands trembling.

“Oh, so now you care what I do?” You scoffed, arms crossing over your chest, looking away from his steely gaze.

“Stop with the bullshit.” He snapped, jaw tight. “I’ve been goin’ fucking crazy, I don’t know what you want from me.” His tone was softer now, his eyebrows furrowed. “And seeing you with someone else it-.” Zoro shook his head, rubbing his neck with a sigh. “I almost lost it.”

Almost? You were sure the poor guy had a broken rib-maybe two, if he had even survived that.

“You could’ve killed that guy.” You muttered.

“I should’ve killed him.” Zoro said, a deadly serious look on his face.

There was a silence, a moment of shock between both of you, you were shocked that he had said it, and Zoro couldn’t believe he had been drunk enough to say it. He could just groan, rub his face in irritation before looking back down at your stupidly cute and sweet face.

“I have always cared.” He said suddenly.

“What?” Your voice was meek, eyes and sharp expression softening as you saw the look of desperation, the regret on his face.

“I…didn’t mean to hurt you, to…make you think I don’t care I-.” He stopped, his cheeks burning up and he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I care too fucking much, actually.” He continued.

“But you- you said.” You started, your heart racing at his closeness, at the rawness in his voice.

“I was just being shitty, I…was acting shitty. I was jealous, that’s it.” Zoro mumbled. “Please- I can’t take anymore of this silent treatment bullshit.”

Seeing how much it had affected him, the true regret and emotion on his face made your eyes flutter, cheeks burn up at his uncharacteristically soft words. The ache in your chest now replaced with a fiery thrum that echoed through your entire body.

“You were…jealous? Of Sanji?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face that only made Zoro scowl and pinch your cheek.

“Of course I was, stupid.” He mumbled. “Did you really think I would want anyone as much as I want you?” He asked, his hand brushing over your cheek, he couldn’t help but savor each touch, each glance.

“You want me?” You asked

He let out a dark laugh, letting his head slip to the crook of your neck so he could take in your scent, your warmth, like he was starved and worn.

“Every second of every day.This face, this body. I can’t think straight when it comes to you” He said in a low voice, his hands gripping your hips as if to emphasize his point.

You were both too drunk, too close and…when he looked up at you, neither of you had a shred of hesitation before your lips collided, neither sure who started it. Only that you both stumbled back to the ship. Hushed giggles and stolen kisses exchanged as Zoro clumsily lead you to an empty room. His hands moved quickly, almost desperately, over your flesh, spreading out under your clothes, his fingers trailing down the expanse of your stomach.

“Zo’, slow down. M’not gonna disappear.” You managed out, giggling softly as Zoro grabbed your legs and dragged you forward so he could press soft kisses down your ankle.

“Maybe I don’t wanna take that chance.” Zoro hummed, his steely eye watching each and every reaction, taking in each sound you made like it was a siren's song.

His rough, tanned hands dragged along your thighs, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch before his fingers brushed over the clips of your heels and he quickly, expertly, unfashioned them, letting the clatter to the floor.

“Ever the gentleman.” You teased, pushing up on your elbows as Zoro tugged off his shirt, his muscles tense and eyes hungry as he stared down at you.

“Gotta treat my girl nice, hm?”

Those words made you pause, your heart racing at the way his eyes locked on yours, the almost nervous expression on his face, like he was worried about what you would say, what you would think.

“I just-” He started, eyes flickering over your blushing cheeks, that damn smile.

It kept him up for weeks, that face.

You chewed on your lip, pushing yourself off the bed and standing before him, hands trailing over his scarred chest, tracing along each line, each mark. His scent made you dizzy, seasalt and cedar, sweat. You could almost feel his own heart beating as hard as yours was. You rested your hand there before leaning in and connecting your lips, it wasn't rushed or rough.

Your arms looped around his neck, neck tilted as Zoro slipped his tongue between your glossy lips, the taste of sake still on his breath as he invaded your mouth, his hands coming up to your hips, gripping the ends of your dress and tugging it up and over your head.

He had seen your body countless times, and yet for some reason this time felt so different, like it was the first time either of you allowed yourself to feel anything real from these fleeting moments. LIke Zoro let himself actually want you.

“S’ fuckin beautiful.” Zoro almost groaned, his fingers trailing over your hips, old scars. His mouth practically watering at your soft skin presented just for him. His fingers tugged away at your bra in a swift motion, a low hum at the hardened peaks of your nipples, the way your cheeks flushed.

His eye scanned down your body, his thumb hooking under the thin straps of your panties before he tugged them down, a starved expression on his face as he gently laid you back on the bed, pressing kisses down your ankle, up your thighs before he was settled between them.

“Been thinking about this for weeks.” He muttered, pressing soft kisses to your clit, around it, his tongue dragging slow and agonizing circles around your bundle of nerves. “Need to taste you, feel you cum until your legs fuckin’ shake.” He groaned, voice muffled and his cock pressing painfully against the bed, desperate for any friction as precum soaked his boxers.

He truly acted starved, his hands gripping your thighs tightly so you couldn't pull away or escape his touch, his hungered movements as his tongue pressed past your folds, curling and lapping up all your essence that he could. He shifted again, moving to suck on your puffy clit.

You were a mess, near sobbing as you came, once twice, coming up on a third time as Zoro continued his assault. He had moved so one of his expert fingers curled and twisted in your tight cunt while his tongue swirled over your clit.

“Z-Zo’.” You whined, a pleading desperate tone to your voice as you tugged at his messy green hair. “N-need you inside.” You whined, eyebrows furrowed and face hot with tears.

He smirked, a wolfish grin on his face as he pulled back, his fingers and mouth leaving your sex just long enough so he can tug his boxers away and leaving you feeling empty, the need and want for him growing even hotter in your core.

You couldn’t stop the gasp as you saw his cock, messy curls at the base and pulsing with need. Zoro had always stretched you out in a painfully delicious way, but it always shocked you regardless of that. Tanned skin, pink fat tip that he pressed against your slick folds, letting out a groan as your slick coated him, your warmth pressed against him and making his hands tighten around your hips.

“How bad you want it, hm?” He chuckled darkly, hips pushing forward so his tip pushed past your walls, stretching and aching for more, desperate for all of him.

“D-don’t be mean.” You huffed out, already panting from your previous orgasam’s, head still spinning and your stomach tight with tension.

“C’mon, you’re so soaked for me. Just wanna hear ya’ say it.” He said, continuing his movements, pushing his tip just past your walls before dragging his fat tip along her clit, her folds.

“Z-zoro. Please, I need you. Only you.” Your voice, the sweetness in your tone was enough to make Zoro snap, his hips slamming flush against yours. You scrambled to cover your mouth to quiet the moans and gasps that came tumbling out.

“That’s right, y-you’re mine.” He grunted, hands spreading your legs deliciously so his tip could burry deep into your plush walls that trembled around him, your desire soaking the bed, your thighs. “Only mine.” He groaned, his tense and fat balls slapping against your flesh as he continued pounding into your awaiting cunt which tightened and pulsed.

Zoro was delirious, drunk on the liquor he had drank indeed but more so with this, the teary look in your eyes, the bruising pace he kept, unrelenting and heavy as his desire boiled over, the cord snapping as he felt you tighten again, and he came deep in your cunt, letting his seed fill your womb. He had to mark you, remind himself you were his, only his.

Exhausted, you both collapsed there, sweaty limbs entangled, drunk on each other, on the passion.

And for once, neither of you left or recoiled. Zoro just tugged you into his arms, holding you there until you both drifted off.

Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it!!

#Korewrites 🌺#x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader smut #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece imagine #one piece x reader smut #smut #zoro roronoa x you #y/n x character #east blue crew #zoro op #Zoro x yn #zoro x y/n #x reader smut

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glassrowboat · 1 day ago

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In Your Capable Hands. Mydei.

Summary: Chartonus himself claims Mydei's weapon holds divinity, majesty, and compassion all in the temper of a single spear head, a fitting weapon for a man like him. Regal, seemingly unforgiving, but kind all the same. It's why you never hesitate to take the blade from him even when it's still covered in blood to wash it all away despite the thoughts that still linger in your mind about the man from Castrum Kremnos.

I should not be trusted with my knowledge of blacksmithing// Suggestive //not proofread, but it's 1am for me

The towel in your hands had received one cut already, splitting it in half on the edge of a dull blade. It was desperate to stay together, even if it meant a few scraggly bits of red string dyed in the ichor of life were the only thing keeping it whole; as one.

Beneath the cloth was a spear, one that had also been broken. Time and time again, you had fixed it at the behest of your master Chartonus, only to have to once again piece it back together the next time Mydei had come to the smithy with guilt on his face and an apology for being too rough with your work. Yet he would always do it again.

At first you had told him off, or tried to, as you told him he needed to prioritize his weapon just as much as a man would his life, but....well, it made sense that argument hadn't exaclty resonated with him.

So once again, you sat at your workbench with Mydei waiting paitently at the counter. His arms were crossed as he watched the people pass by. Two little boys had stopped to say hello. To call him their big brother and share how excited they are for their next training session before running along as children do. Another had been one of his own men. They only exchanged a brief nod before they both went along their day. And lastly, there was you: occasionally given a word or two as you worked.

It helped pass the time, so you welcomed it well enough, answering any questions he had about how busy you had been today or your thoughts on the weather. Small talk, really, but it helped keep your mind busy enough and wouldn't distract you from what you were trying to get done.

Finally, you tossed the rag aside. It landed with a wet thwap in the metal bin.

"It's not broken. It just needs some sharpening." You said as you lifted the spearhead up to catch a stray beam of light.

Those with an untrained eye wouldn't even notice the cracks in the blessed metal, but those that could would always see it clear as day. It almost reminded you of kintsugi, but this was your masters work and not someone with an eye for gold who needed to pieceback together a broken bowl.

"That's fine." You heard behind you, Mydei's gruff voice filling your ears now that there wasn't a hammer going to town on an unfinished sword.

"Right, just give me a moment, then."

His head turned back to look at you, golden eye watching as you pried the nails keeping it mounted to the polished shaft and dropped them back down into a tin you kept close by for the smaller objects. It was full of tiny knicknacks just as much as it was full of soot and dust.

"What do I owe you for this?"

"The same as usual."

Meaning: Aglaea would cover it.

He hummed at that, wordlessly telling you he heard what you said.

"You know, with the amount of times I've done this for you, I'd think you would have figured it out on your own." Your hand dropped into the bucket of water at your side to pull out the whetstone. It had been soaking for long enough now, to the point you hadn't spotted a single bubble rising to the top of the water to pop open once it was exposed to the open air.

You wiped your hand off on your pants as Mydei spoke.

"I find it's best to leave this to someone who knows exactly what they're doing."

"If you say so. Or maybe you just can't get the hang of it."

The blade met the rock before you with a soft tap as you adjusted the angle, doing your best to get the proper forty-five degree angle you wanted before starting. The moment you did, you ran the blade up and down the block. You had once compared the grating to nails on a chalkboard, and in a way, you did still feel that same soft withdrawal tugging at you, but it came with a tinge of comfort now instead of a need to make it stop.

Your hands did the rest. Years of practice paying off as muscle memory took over, leaving your mouth free to prattle.

"Well, I can always walk you through it." You offered.

"There's no need."

"It'll be good to know."

His boots thudded behind you, creating a soft click every time the heel met the bricks below you both as Mydei slowly approached to stand behind you. You could feel him towering over you from where you sat. Even when you were standing, he always had to look down at you, leaving you feeling small in comparison, but the way his shadow loomed over you now as it blocked out the light coming from Kephale only made you all the more aware of that fact. "I already know how. I just want to leave the proper care to someone who knows how to treat it delicately."

The grating stopped for just a moment as your hands stilled. "Yeah? So you know that you have to start at the base before working your way up to the tip?"

"I know you skipped honing the blade."

"...Wasn't needed."

Your attention narrowed back on the blade, its distinct smell of rusted blood drowned out by...him. It was obvious he hadn't stopped by the baths to wash off before visiting you, clearly finding his weapon for more importance, leaving Mydei covered in sweat that had yet to be washed away. You had picked it up before when you had taken the spear from him after he had dropped it on the work table, but now it was suffocating you.

Gone was the ash you knew was filling your nostrils and staining the black from keeping the fire beside you both alight and roaring.

"And I would have done it, possibly ruining the blade in the process and having to bring it back here regardless. I'm just being efficient."

The thought to shoot back with the fact a metal blessed by the Titan's themselves wasn't that delicate lingered in your mind, but that thought was quickly quenched by the feeling of metal claws on your shoulder. You could feel the pinpricks of them poking at your skin, just barely digging in. It was cold in comparison to the heat you had been surrounded by all day, making it a welcome change even when you were still on high alert about just who was behind you.

And for some reason, you almost wished his soft hold on you would tighten just enough. You could feel those claws breaking your skin.

"Right. Well....good call then."

You couldn't help but cringe at how you stammered over your words, but it seemed to be enough to satisfy whatever Mydei had wanted from you as he backed away and returned to the spot he had been collecting dust in before.

"What was that?" You whispered to yourself.

Shaking that entire encounter off the best you could, your attention went back to the blade in your hand, now noticeably held at a fifty degree angle.

Wrong.

It was wrong.

Your head shook side to side.

"You know, it might be best to go out and shop for a bit, Lord Mydei. This will take some time, and I want to see about hammering out the dents in your pauldron. Maybe shining it too if you take too long to get back."

You didn't risk looking back at him, not when you were unsure why desire had come over you so quickly.

Not even when you knew he was wordlessly taking off the armor on his shoulder. Each little chime of a buckle being undone made you move your hands a little faster and press the blade just a bit too hard into the whetstone.

You'd have to properly attend to it later. Check it. See if it needs replaced-

You flinched as the bronze metal filled your eyes, the familiar shape of it delicately placed down by your side.

"Calm down. Haven't I told you before that I'm not a mindless brute?"

Swallowing, you got out a yes.

"Then"- His head ducked down, meeting you at the same height to give Mydei a chance to glance at you properly. Your thighs clenched at having him so close, the heat from before having barely even dwindling and now reigniting as if you had used a bellow to cause a stir. Like this, you couldn't meet his eye. Not when you weren't sure if it would mean you would be tempted to break the space between you.

Ultimately, he pulled away. "Forget it."

A moment of silence passed.

"You should leave me your gauntlets as well."

"Fine."

They soon joined the growing pile on your table, rattling it and causing it to tilt to the side now that there was more weight where the one uneven leg was. You had been meaning to fix it, but like many things in your day to day life, it had gone unattended to.

"I'll get to that right away."

"Then we're done here?"

"Yes, Lord Mydei."

He pushed himself away from you, boots thudding against the stone once again as he headed back to the busy street full of colorful fabrics and stalls just waiting to be perused at his leisure. A single merchant had even waved to him, hoping to draw Mydei in with promises of a sale. Their hand hung in the air, yet his eyes turned back to you.

Only to see you staring right back at him. You could only hope the heat you felt in your cheeks wasn't noticeable, or at least could be passed off as a side effect of the sunny day. "Ah, goodbye then."

His hands, covered in callouses and scars painting his fingers to his palm, slid into the pockets of his trousers, hiding away just how big they were. "What time should I come to pick everything back up?"

"Well, given I'm handling your gauntlets, too, I'd say tomorrow morning."

"I'll leave it in your capable hands." With that, he walked away.

You watched for a moment, lips pinched together before dropping your head down to the table before you to groan.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

That's what you were.

You wanted to scream and shout, maybe even go and kick that one beam in the smithy you always abused when you were agitated with your latest project. Anything would do as long as it took the edge off of where your mind was drifting as you looked back at the gauntlet before you, the five clawed fingers curled just so.

Stupid. It's stupid.

And worst off, in your own fit of self-denial, you had missed the way Mydei has adjusted himself in his pants in a desperate attempt to hide himself away.

#hoyoverse #gn reader #mydei #mydei x reader #mydei x you #mydei x y/n #hsr x reader #x reader #honkai sr #honkai star rail #cw suggestive

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nick-writes-stuff · 3 days ago

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Ransom

Hwang In-ho x spouse!reader (gn)

summary: As much as In-ho tried to keep you a secret, a plot to overthrow and loot the compound involved holding you as ransom. The plan is unsuccessful, but your life wouldn't be the same again.

!warnings: canon-typical violence, home invasion themes, reader is injured and manhandled, hurt/comfort, implied traumatic experiences

a/n: this is probably going to be the last solo in-ho fic for a bit. i don't want to get burnt out from writing him. expect some headcanons or fics about some other characters in the future!

In-ho liked to keep you away from his work. You didn't know all of the specifics. You knew what he was doing was gruesome and shady, but you preferred to stay out of it.

A year or two after he began working as the Front Man, he had reached out to you, hoping to get some piece of his life back. You two had been close friends in your childhood up through your first year of university. You knew him and his brother well. Jun-ho would always pick on him since he thought it was obvious the two of you were pining for each other, but nothing ever came from that.

Then you drifted apart. There was no animosity between you. You talked occasionally, but you were just doing separate things in your lives. You would be lying if you said you didn't think about him every once in a while, wistfully wondering how your life would have been different if you had ever gotten the courage to ask him.

That thought made you feel guilty every time. You heard about what he was doing in his life. You knew he got married, was expecting a child with his wife, got fired for alleged bribery, lost his wife and child, then distanced himself from everyone in his life. Nothing stopped the thought from popping up, but you had never thought about acting in it.

Until you bumped into him at a coffee shop on the outskirts of Seoul years later. You didn't think much of this encounter. He had seemed nonchalant and casual that you assumed he had already cleared things up with his family.

This wasn't a chance encounter like you thought it was. Quite the contrary, as In-ho had meticulously planned it for a month in advance. It included a bit of surveillance on his end, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for his line of work. He met you there, and it felt exhilarating to finally be able to leave the mask behind for once.

You finally kept in touch with him. Your relationship only grew from that point on. Before you moved in with him, he sat you down to talk about his work and living situation. He was straightforward for the most part, but he spared you any of the extremely gory details. And you didn't run. You wanted to be there for him. Even if you were morally opposed to his line of work, you really cared about him. And it's not like you were participating.

You had lived with him for a few years before he proposed to you. Unlike every other thing he does, he didn't have a plan for it. Everything was spontaneous, and it was something you really appreciated. Not thinking about it beforehand showed that he really felt strongly about you and didn't have to think it through to convince him.

You stayed in the apartment for most of the time. You found a way to make yourself busy. Sometimes In-ho would have some random tasks for you like baking bread or making dalgona. You didn't know how that was helpful, but you didn't mind.

He was happy to have someone to return home to at the end of the day. But with that came the worry of your safety. The compound was secure, but there was always the fear in the back of his mind. You've taken self-defense courses before. You weren't helpless, but the people who could be a threat are rather unsavory people. They acted rashly and without forethought. Their unpredictability was concerning.

In-ho wanted to teach you how to use a gun, but you refused. You didn't like guns. You witnessed something traumatic that you didn't like discussing, and In-ho knew that. You at least let him show you how to check if the safety was on or off. He did insist that you carry around a stun gun, something you reluctantly agreed to.

You both had hoped you wouldn't have to use it. But sometimes things never go how you planned.

You had been straightening up when you heard the alarm start blaring. You swallowed hard, trying to calm your breathing. Panic would do nothing but make you more vulnerable.

The shrill ring of the rotary phone receiving a call shocked you more than it reasonably should have. You felt your heart stop for a second as it reverberated through the room. You shook your head at your jumpiness and walked to answer the phone.

You picked up the receiver. “You scared the shit out of me.” You said with a slight chuckle.

In-ho wasn't in a joking mood. He couldn't be right now. “Listen, there's 5 players and 2 rogue guards storming the place right now.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh god.” You muttered, realizing the gravity of the situation. Your breathing quickened as a response.

“Stay calm, okay? You need to keep your mind sharp.” He said. He knew it was a tall order, but he was right and you knew it. His voice was level despite the pit forming in his stomach. “There's one near you. Lock the door and hide in the storage room. Get ready to catch him off guard and lock him in there, okay? I'll get to you as soon as I can.” He said quickly.

You took a deep breath. “I will. I love you.” You said.

“I love you too.” He said. His voice was softer than it was before. He tried to keep you a secret while at work. Sure, some people knew you were living with him, mostly just some of the managers, but he didn't like advertising the fact that you were someone he cared about in fear it would be used against him.

And it was being used against him. There had been a scheme brewing behind the scenes for a few years that they hadn't caught onto. A player who voted to leave and didn't come back to the games decided to make a group to infiltrate the compound and steal the money outright. If they had 45 billion Won to offer the winner, they had to have even more at their disposal. The two guards had been working there for a few years. One of them was one of the managers who knew about your presence on the island. The one who was right outside the door to the apartment.

Things started to piece together in In-ho mind as he watched the events unfold. He became suspicious of other soldiers now. He didn't think he could trust anyone to rescue you except himself. What if they were in on it? Maybe he was being paranoid, but he didn't want to risk your life. He started devising a plan to neutralize the situation, giving out orders when needed. Once everyone knew their task, he made his way toward the apartment.

You put down the receiver the correct way out of habit. You rushed over to the front door, trembling fingers struggling to lock the door. You flicked the lights off and entered the storage room. You flicked those lights off as well. Maneuvering the best you could in the dark, you stood beside one of the shelves with your back against the wall. You focused on the coldness you felt where you made contact with the wall. It was grounding you. Your hand gripped the stun gun in your pocket. You tried to calm your breathing, but it was still shaky.

You flinched the first time you heard a thud. It wasn't a gunshot, more of an impact. The second time, it happened you realized it was someone breaking down the door. And they seemed to have gotten in. You heard heavy footsteps pacing through the apartment.

You hoped they would think you weren't there. Maybe you took a trip outside or even to the mainland. Maybe they didn't even know you were here.

That wasn't the case. You knew it the second you heard him shout. “Come on out. I know you're here.”

You tensed up, realizing how bad of a situation you were in. You just hoped In-ho would be there soon.

You heard him opening the doors one by one, doing a sweep of the apartment. Eventually, he opened the door to the storage room. You took deep breaths trying to stay quiet. Once he walked past you, you made your exit. He noticed you before you got out. “Not so fast.” He called out.

You managed to get through the doorway and start to close the door on him. You tried shoving against him, but you were overpowered and knocked to the ground as he shoved the door open.

You gathered your bearings and started to stand up, but you noticed the weapon in his hand. A pistol. Standard issue for the managers to keep on their person.

You started breathing faster, panicking despite In-ho's words repeating in your head. Stay calm, okay? You need to keep your mind sharp. You took a deep breath as you stood up. You tried to run off, but he stopped you by shoving you into the wall.

“Sorry, but I can't let you get away.” He said mockingly while closing the distance between you. He wrapped a hand around your throat.

“What do you want?” You asked, managing to get the words out despite the circumstances.

He laughed, using his other hand to pull off his square mask and hood to reveal his sick grin. “You're going to be my golden ticket to the fortune it takes to run these games. Your husband has to have hundreds of billions of Won, and he's gonna fork it over if he doesn't want me to put a bullet in your head.” He said. He tapped the barrel of the gun against your temple. You flinched away from it, both out of fear and a reflex from the cold metal.

He was clearly deriving pleasure from watching you struggle, and it made you sick to your stomach. You couldn't breathe, both from the panic and his grip on your airway.

“You don't have to do this.” You muttered, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Oh, I know. It's nothing personal, sweetheart.” He said with a sickening sweet but mocking tone. He had a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Your vision started to blur as he spoke. You reached your trembling hand into your pocket, fumbling with the stun gun. When you got it oriented the correct way, you made your move. You held down the button and jammed it into his side.

He jerked backward, releasing the grip on your throat and the gun. You took a desperate breath as you ducked out of his hold, but he recovered from the volts quicker than you thought he would. He turned and shoved you to the ground.

“You motherfucker.” He growled. He kicked you, causing you to cry out in pain. “You're gonna regret that.” He spat.

In-ho was making haste to the apartment when he heard you cry out. He grimaced under the mask. He tried to calm down his own breathing, but that attempt was in vain the second he heard a gunshot.

“Fuck, no no no no no.” He muttered. He felt the panic rise within him. He didn't know what he would do if he lost you. He can't do this without you. He can't lose you. If he did, it would be all his fault. You didn't deserve this. You didn't belong in the world that he dragged you into.

Why did the universe hate him? Was he doomed to lose everyone he loved? His mother, his father, his wife and child, his brother, his mentor, and now you too. Maybe he was meant to be alone. The universe was trying to show him that, but he never learned, and now he's lost the last person who he cared about.

He quickly noticed that the door had been broken into. Whoever did this was sure of their actions.

Whoever did this was about to be killed as well. He pulled the gun from his own pocket. Part of him wanted to keep them alive and torture them, make them regret the pain they put you through. But he knew you wouldn't want that.

He braced himself for what he thought he would see when he entered the doorframe, but it wasn't what he expected.

You were sitting with your back against the wall. You held the manager's gun in your hands, still outstretched as if you were frozen in time. Your gaze looked far away. Your breathing was shallow.

The manager laid in a heap on the ground, blood beginning to pool around him from the wound.

You shot him dead.

Once In-ho assessed the situation, he was at your side almost instantly, and the black mask was discarded just as quickly. He grabbed your wrist gently, which snapped you out of your haze. You jerked away from his touch, head quickly turning to look at whoever startled you.

“Hey, hey, it's me, okay? It's just-” He started.

The second you realized it was him you wrapped your arms around him. The pistol clattered to the ground. You cried into his shoulder, letting out shuddering sobs.

He wrapped one arm around your waist while the other cradled the back of your head. His thumb gently stroked your scalp while he repeated, “It's okay. You're safe,” in a soft whisper, hoping both of you realized it was true.

His own breathing was uneven as well as he tried to keep himself calm. He wanted to be a rock for you to cling to, the calm in the storm. But he was so fucking scared himself. He thought he lost you. He thought he was going to walk in and see you dead on the ground.

So for the first time in a long time, tears ran down his face. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. It was probably when he returned from the games to learn his wife had passed. After the confrontation with Jun-ho, he didn't cry. He just shut down emotionally, distanced himself, and drank a bit too much for a few days. He had never really given himself time to process those emotions except during the recurring nightmares about the incident.

After a few minutes, you heard a voice at the door. “Sir?”

You looked up to see two triangle soldiers. You tensed up, about ready to get up and run out of the room, but In-ho's embrace tightened ever so slightly to keep you with him.

He didn't turn. He couldn't because he didn't have his mask, and he wasn't going to doom the two guards by looking at them. “Get a cleaning crew to deal with this. We'll be out of here when they arrive.” He said, keeping his tone level.

When he heard them leave, he released you from the hug. He pulled back and looked at you. “Could we move into the bedroom? Is that okay?” He asked you gently.

It took you a moment to register his words. Your gaze was directed toward him, but it seemed you were looking through him. You eventually nodded your head. He had been intending on carrying you, but you stood up using the wall to keep your balance. He noticed your grimace from the movement. He suspected you were in pain, but he didn't dwell on it now.

He grabbed your hand gingerly, leading you into the other room. He didn't even care to grab the mask, totally forgetting it as his priority shifted to you.

When you entered the room, he locked it behind you. He didn't want to be bothered by the games right now. He would get the information about the breach later. Right now, he was needed here. Plus, he thought you would feel safer knowing it was only him with you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling to the ground. You just sat there motionless, staying into space. He looked over at you, his eyes a storm of anger and fear and worry and love. He sat next to you, an action that startled you until you realized it was still just him.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. “It's just us in here, okay?” He said softly. He grabbed your hand in his, fidgeting with your fingers absent-mindedly. Occasionally his fingers would find their way to your pulse point as if he was subconsciously ensuring you were still alive.

He didn't know how long you both sat there like that. He didn't want to overwhelm you, so he just held you and occasionally murmured some comforting words. You could talk when you were ready.

Eventually, you broke the silence. “I didn't know what else to do.” You murmured softly. Your face was still blank, but he took some comfort in hearing your voice.

“That's okay. You did what you had to do to survive.” He said. Explaining this to you felt strange to him. It's the same words used to justify the murder in the games. Maybe his vision was clouded by his love for you, but he didn't think the games and what you just went through were comparable. It felt wrong to use those words even though by the game's logic, these two situations were both considered self-preservation. He didn't have time to go through this moral dilemma. Perhaps he would rethink all of his past decisions in the quiet of night, but right now, you needed him, and that was the most important thing to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke again. “Do you want to know what happened?” You asked.

He sighed softly. “I would like to know eventually, but we don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to.” He said honestly. He didn't want to pressure you, but knowing the information would be helpful for investigating the incident and his own mental well-being. He wanted to know how he could prevent this from happening again.

You took a deep breath before beginning to speak. “He broke down the door and started looking through all the rooms. He was looking for me. I hid in the storage room, and I tried to sneak out like you said, but he was too fast and forced the door open.”

He grimaced slightly. He already assumed that the manager was there for you, but hearing it stirred an anger in his chest. “Did he say anything to you?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. He said that he was going to hold me as ransom for the money.” You said in a small voice.

He stayed silent for a moment before gently cupping your face in his hand. He guided your gaze toward him. “Did he hurt you?” He asked. He tried to keep his voice gentle, but the simmering anger inside him caused his voice to be stern. He needed to know.

He felt you tense up, and that answered his question enough. You nodded slightly. “I got shoved around a bit. He tried choking me out, but I got him with the stun gun. That disarmed him and…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath before adding, “you know the rest.”

He tilted your head up slightly, dark eyes landing on the redness that would certainly turn to bruises. Physical reminders of the pain In-ho felt like he caused you by putting you in this dangerous environment.

There was that anger again. He could feel it coursing through his veins. It was wrath and hatred and fury. He wished you hadn't killed him so he could force the manager to feel at least 1000 times more pain and torture. He wanted the satisfaction of killing him slowly on his own terms.

You wanted to reassure him that you were okay. The bruises will fade with time. The lingering sense of pain where the manager's hands gripped your throat will leave. When he didn't seem to react, you sighed softly. It's time to take another approach. “If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.” You said cheekily.

You could see it in his eyes. While he was unreadable to almost everyone, you could see his emotions clear as day. Although to be fair, you were the only one to see him without the mask. You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I'm fine. Just a few bruises. Nothing that times won't heal,” you said. Physically, at least. This day would definitely haunt you for years, but you knew that wasn't his concern right now.

It took him a moment to register your words, but when he did, he looked down at you. Upon seeing your smirk, he couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face. He laughed lightly, shaking his head. “Only you could go through something like that and joke about it after.” He said.

“I just don't like seeing you upset.” You said softly.

He paused for a moment before pressing his lips to your forehead. You leaned into him. You both sat there in the intimate silence for a moment before you spoke again. “You know, I don't regret doing it.” You said. You sighed. “I didn't like doing it, but I think he got what he deserved.”

He tried not to seem surprised. He was surprised, but he didn't want you to think it was him appraising your statement negatively. He didn't have room to judge as he had an obvious reputation.

“And that's okay.” He said gently.

In a strange way, he was almost proud but not for the reason most would think. He could imagine Il-nam praising him for getting you to see the purpose of the games. Others would think he was happy to corrupt you. But honestly, that's bullshit.

He was happy that you had a reason to fight for your life. You considered yourself, your husband, and your future together more important than your personal code of ethics. He had seen how opposed to violence you were, and the fact you would act against your moral values for him was almost heartwarming.

It reminded him of himself. He did the same for his first wife. He was an upstanding police officer, but he decided to work with the people he was supposed to take down. He took loans and bribes to pay for her treatment, and he wouldn't have changed a thing. It was a testament to his devotion. His love language is acts of immorality

In-ho arranged for two nights off to spend with you. You both tried to pretend the other's nightmare hadn't woken you up. He appeared like he didn't notice your hands reach to your next and try to pry off the hands of the man in your dream. You didn't react when you felt his fingers on your pulse point as he calmed himself down. Through the next couple days, you tried to live as normally as the situation allowed. He occasionally needed to step out of the apartment to assess the state of the games and give orders. You waited for him rather impatiently. He also wanted to be with you as much as possible. It calmed both of you from the anxiety which was likely going to linger. Being here was dangerous and that was a risk you both would have to take. And you took it willingly if it meant being together.

He'd do anything for you, too. His list of misdeeds had grown more serious, so it's more accurate to say he would change his ways for the better for you. If he had to break the strict rules or if he had to leave the games behind entirely, that's fine. He'd do it in a heartbeat if you asked him to.

#nick writes stuff #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #in ho x reader #front man x reader #hwang in ho x reader #inho x reader #inho x you

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hoonieyun · 10 hours ago

Text

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ fwb!jake x reader i start fights cause i wanna makeup... summary: although you specified with jake that you were only looking for a fwb, you just love getting a kick out of pushing his buttons. after all, as much as you like starting fights with him, you like making up with him after even more.

warnings: kissing, drinking and playing beer pong, jake and yn are not good people, i'm not sure the term but they use other people to get back at one another, suggestive, consensual skinship, possessive!jake, jake slightly chokes yn but its consensual!! bratty!reader ,18+ wc: 3729

hoonieyun notes: this is probably the spiciest one out of this series but no smut because i can't bring myself to write it so everything is quite suggestive lol

you’re getting ready to go to a party when a text on your phone catches your attention. setting down your lipstick and reaching for your phone, a smile appears on your lips as you read the text in your head.

from: jaeyun need me to pick you up baby?

the text reads and you’re smirking to yourself knowing that you’ve got something up your sleeve. jake has gotten on your nerves lately because although the two of you weren’t exclusive, you were each other’s exclusive friends with benefits, meaning you two would only be seeing each other but not dating.

however, he loves to act like you’re just some girl when the two of you are in public, ignoring your advances and doing his best to act like he isn’t smitten with you after spending the weekend at your apartment, cuddling you in his sleep and making you breakfast in the morning.

sure, it was nice to have a warm body next to you when you slept at night but you were beginning to think that jake was becoming more than somebody you wanted to fuck around with and could see a life with him as your boyfriend, the only thing was you weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

he always acted differently from the jaeyun that you knew in your bedroom and the jake that you knew when it came to being around your friends and in public. you wouldn’t necessarily say he was ashamed to be with you but more often than not it felt like he was hiding this relationship the two of you had like it was something to be ashamed of.

you decide not to respond and set your phone back down to finish the last of your makeup but another text rings once again. you go to look at your phone to see another text from jake, this time he’s being less sweet and more assertive with you.

from: jaeyun alright, i’ll see you at the party i guess

you roll your eyes in annoyance at the fact that he was being so passive aggressive but you couldn’t blame him because you were being just as passive aggressive and even more with what you had planned for the night. another text appears on your phone but its from a different person this time, now a smile on your face that wasn’t partnered with mischievous.

from: myungjae :3 hi cutie, i’m outside. take your time, ok?”

myungjae was your plan for the night. if jake wasn’t going to flaunt you around like somebody he was proud to have on his arm, you’ll find somebody that would and you did. myungjae was a guy you had met at jake’s soccer game. he had come up to you before the game when you were at a vending machine and you learned that he was a player at your university’s rival team. you texted occasionally and myungjae wasn’t shy to show you how much he wanted to take you out on a date.

out of respect for jake, you always politely declined myungjae’s advances but as of lately, jake’s behavior has pissed you off so much that you didn’t care anymore that you yourself asked myungjae out on a date; to which he enthusiastically accepts.

a part of you did feel bad that you were using him to get back at jake but at the end of the day, it’s all fun and games, right?

you quickly spritz perfume onto your exposed clavicle and admire yourself in your mirror one last time before heading outside to meet myungjae. flipping your hair over your shoulder and thinking about how killer you looked tonight, knowing how you could have any guy crawling after you tonight.

when you exit your apartment, you see myungjae outside leaning on the hood of his car as he waits for you, you smile and do a slight jog to get to him, trying to make sure you don’t fall over in your heels. “hi, myungjae.” you say in a sickly and sweet voice.

“hi, cutie.” he says, smiling down at your pretty face, taking in your features and overall demeanor, he doesn’t even notice he’s checking you out until you playfully slap his chest. “keep it in your pants, mister.” you taunt and he rolls his eyes with a smirk knowing that you know how much of an effect you have on him. you place a small kiss on his cheek before he opens the door for you and grabs your hand to help you in. you watch as myungjae runs around the car to get to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat and making your way to the party– his hand on your exposed thigh the whole drive.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

when you get to the party, myungjae doesn’t leave your side at all, one of his arms is constantly draped around your shoulder or waist, or his soft hands gently wrapped around yours. it was a party by someone at your university so he only knew a few people aside from you. he follows you as you make your rounds throughout the party like he was a lost puppy and you had given him a sliver of attention that he craved.

you introduce myungjae to a lot of your friends and find your way to the kitchen where you fix the two of you a drink, a concoction inside of a red solo cup of whatever looked good and a cold glass of beer of myungjae, explaining that he’ll only have one bottle because he wants to be sober to ensure he gets you home safely. you found him so cute, pinching his cheek, if your brain wasn’t so tainted with the idea of jake you probably would’ve chosen myungjae a long time ago but jake was just constantly running on your mind no matter how badly or well he treated you in and outside of your bedroom.

as jake enters the kitchen, his steps slow down when he sees you handing myungjae his beer, clearing his throat to get both of your attention.

“yn, nice to see you.” he says, anger clearly in his eyes.

“hi, jaeyun.” you say, using the name he said was specifically reserved for you.

“have you met myungjae? he plays for the bonedo soccer team.” you ask even though all three of you know the answer to that as jake and myungjae are known to have quite the rivalry. “sup, man.” myungjae says, raising his glass to jake and jake just nods in response before stomping over to the fridge to get a beer of his own.

“have fun.” you say as he leaves the kitchen, knowing that you were not beginning to get under his skin just by showing up with not only another man, but also a man that he didn’t like. “you guys good?” myungjae asks and you turn to him with a bright smile and nod, “mhmm, don’t worry your pretty head.” you say, toasting your cup with his bottle and taking a sip of your drink, smirking to yourself once again now that your plan for the night has begun.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you’re dancing with myungjae when you glance over to a corner of the room and see that jake was sitting on the couch with yunjin in his lap, twirling her hair while jake stared at her lips. you couldn’t believe it, jake was trying to play the same game as you by getting with a girl that you didn't like. you always voiced to jake how much you didn’t like yunjin because you felt like she was always competing with you for things that didn’t matter like when she got chosen for an internship over you and told everyone it was because she was smarter than you when in reality it was because the ceo of that tech company was her godfather.

jake suddenly catches your gaze and smiles at you as if he was saying, “two can play at that game.” and you know what, two can certainly play that game so to piss jake off even more, you switch your position from facing myungjae with your hands around his shoulder to having your backside to his front, moving his hands to your waist instead as the music picks up and your bodies begin to move in unison.

if anyone saw the two of you right now they would probably mistake you and myungjae as a couple and knowing that people were perceiving you that way only angered jake further because although he would act like he didn’t know you in public, he was the only would that should be touching you in that way.

when you revert your gaze back to jake you see that he’s angrily storming out of the room, leaving yunjin with an annoyed expression as she’s left alone on the couch also watching jake leave the room.

yn: 2 jake: 1

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the next time you see jake, he’s with chaewon in the kitchen, his hand fiddling with the hem of her crop top, a longing gaze in her eyes as she watches jake who you knew wouldn’t return the same expression because he would only look at you that way.

you and myungjae make your way back inside of the kitchen to fix yourself another drink, ignoring jake and chaewon because you didn’t want to give them the attention jake wanted from you so bad. you bring your cup to myungjae’s lips as you offer him a sip and he takes a small sip because he just can’t resist the look in your eyes.

jake on the other hand is tightening his jaw and is gripping his cup so hard that it constricts, causing the liquid on the inside to splash onto him and chaewon, “what the fuck?” she exclaims, causing you and myungjae to look over at them. you see chaewon swipe her hands in annoyance to get rid of the beer on her skin and jake apologetically follows her out of the kitchen as she storms out. you roll your eyes and shake your head knowing that jake couldn’t beat you in your own game.

no matter how hard he tries to get under your skin, you were already deep under there.

yn: 3 jake: 2

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you soon find yourself competing against jake and chaewon in a game of beer pong with myungjae. you were surprised he was very good which you knew only made jake angrier as he wasn’t the best at the game. you had even warned jake that he should probably find another couple to play against, boasting about myungjae’s abilities without knowing if your bluffs were true.

the sound of you calling yourself and myungjae a “couple” sets him and causes him to start the game before you even accept his challenge– and with just a few tosses, you and myungjae have only lost one cup while jake and chaewon had lost all but one cup.

it was myungjae’s turn to toss the ball and for good luck, he asks you to blow on the ball and you oblige. blowing on to it with puckered lips and an unbreaking gaze with myungjae. jake is gripping the edge of the table as he watches the two of you, chaewon standing off to the side disinterested in any of this as she’s noticed that jake was more focused on trying to win you over and competing with myungjae than he was interested in her. at some point she ends up leaving after she receives a text from yunjin saying that jake ghosted her at the party so she leaves without notice and jake definitely doesn’t notice her absence.

when myungjae skillfully tosses the ping pong ball towards the cup, it goes right in, earning cheers from everyone watching and most importantly, you. you’re jumping up and down while clapping, proud that myungjae has successfully won you the beer pong game and to reward him you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss but you’re suddenly dragged away when jake grabs onto your wrist and pulls you outside into the front yard.

“let me go, jake!” you yell, trying to free your hand but his grip on you is relentless and there was no way you were freeing yourself.

“are you done?” he asks and you look at him with an expression that reads like you had no idea what he was talking about. jake inches closer, his nose almost touching yours as he looks down into your eyes with so much fury in his eyes at the stunt you had pulled tonight. you looked up at him with an arrogant gaze knowing that your plan was successful, flashing him a smile like you were so innocent in all of this, jake can’t help but smirk at you; wiping his face with aggravation.

“yn, are you ok?” myungjae says from behind as he stands at the door.

before you could even respond, jake flashes his middle finger at the poor guy and drags you to his car, leaving myungjae behind without an explanation; a noticeable pout on his lips as he watches you willingly leave with jake and get inside of his car.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the drive to jake’s apartment was quiet, his jawline more prominent than usual as he’s constantly flexing his jaw in annoyance, trying to think of what he wanted to say to you but all he had in his head was how he was going to make you beg after being so bratty all night.

the grip he had on your thigh was a lot different than the one myungjae has on you hours before, jake squeezing your thigh with so much force that when he let go as you arrived at his apartment, there was a visible print on your skin.

“get inside.” he says and you know not to disobey him further, a smile on your face as you think about all of your efforts tonight being successful and how this was the result that you wanted. sure it was wrong to start a fight with jake all because you wanted to but at the end of the day, it was his fault for acting like he didn’t crave your touch every night.

it may be wrong to like to start fights but it was all because you enjoyed making up after a lot more.

when you enter jake’s apartment, he’s right on your heel, shutting his door behind you and pressing you against the door, his hand wrapping around your neck. “you wanna act like a brat?” he taunts, eyes scanning your face and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find jake’s behavior attractive. you decide to stay silent to push his buttons even more as he hates being ignored.

“hmph, i’ll make you regret acting like that.” he whispers into your ear, his lips lightly grazing your ear as he hauls you over his shoulder and takes you to his bedroom. you try to fight him off, squirming around but it is to no avail as his strong grip around you prevents you from moving around too much.

you were starting to think that this was all a bad idea but you couldn’t help but crave the way jake treats you whenever you act this way.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

after several hours of releasing tension, anger, and frustration; you and jake are laying on his bed, out of breath and staring into his ceiling. the blankets are covering the two of you and you’re laying in silence after everything that just happened. you got what you wanted and so did jake even if he was furious with you just a few hours ago.

“you still being bratty?” he says with a cocky smirk and you just roll your eyes at him as you sit up, bringing the blanket up further to cover yourself. “jake i wouldn’t be acting like this if you treated me the way i deserve to be treated.” you say and the harsh truth hits jake in a way that he didn’t expect.

he thought you were only acting like that because you wanted his attention but not because you were genuinely bothered by his behavior, “what are you even talking about?” jake says, turning towards you and propping up his arm with his elbow and resting his head into his hand.

“jake, you practically act like i don’t exist when we’re in public or with our friends.” you explain and jake huffs as if he was exhausted from this conversation already.

“we’re not even dating?” he says and now it was your turn to be furious with him. “that’s not the point, jake! you act like i don’t exist, you ignore me, and you act like you’re ashamed to be seen with me but once the sun sets you’re texting me to have me sleep in your bed.

how is that supposed to make me feel? i know we’re friends with benefits but the first word of that arrangement is ‘friend’ and you haven’t treated me like one.!” you shout and jake was getting up to get dressed, avoiding your gaze.

“oh and bringing myungjae’s ass to the party, were you being a good friend? you know i don’t like his ass!” he retorts and you’re standing up in aggravation because jake was not getting the point, “that doesn’t matter!” you try to yell back and he interrupts you, “yes it fucking does! you know i don’t like him and you still brought him to piss me off, why!” he shouts and jake has never raised his voice at you like this before. the two of you getting caught in a screaming match like no other as you both shout at the top of your lungs at one another.

“because i like you and i wanted to be with someone that liked me the way i like him but the whole time you were the only one on my mind, ok!” you shout, finally confessing to jake that you’ve developed feelings for him despite that being the golden rule of your arrangement.

never catch feelings.

jake wipes his face with a heavy sigh and you’re plopping back down onto the mattress after getting so worked up you found yourself standing on top of his bed, the blanket barely clinging onto you.

“what?” jake mutters.

“i like you, ok? i have for a while and it pisses me off that you act like i’m just some girl when we spend almost every night in each others arms, you hold me at night like you never want to let me go but when morning hits sometimes you’re gone before the birds even begin to chirp.

you make me feel things i know i’m not supposed to feel and it hurts, ok?” your chest is rising up and down as you finally let out your feelings and jake is looking at you like you’ve just told him your deepest and darkest secret.

“thats… no! you can’t like me, i’m not good for you!” he explains and you’re looking at him like none of the words that leave his mouth make any sense.

“you’re too good to me, you’re so sweet and kind and treat me like i’m the only thing that matters in your life even when i’ve been so shitty to you. even right now! i’ve been shitty to you and you’re professing your love to me and i don’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you!

you deserve better and i’m not that.” jake responds and you’re fighting off the tears pooling in your lashes.

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve..” you whisper and you’re staring at one another in silence.

jake is weighing the option in his head. he loved you so fucking bad, probably even more than you loved and his actions tonight showed that with how bad he fought for you despite you constantly choosing myungjae over him. if jake was being honest, he fell for you fairly quickly when he spent the night one weekend and gave him face masks to put on because you had made a comment on how dry his skin was. it was that small gesture that made him fall for you and everyday after he fell deeper and deeper.

jake was terrible for you and he knew that and although he wanted to be selfish and keep you all to himself, he knew that your life would only be miserable if you stayed with him. that’s why he started avoiding you and slowly distancing himself in hopes that it would just drive you away but it only drove him closer to you because he hated seeing another man touch what was his.

“no.” was all jake says and you didn’t need any further explanation. you’re jumping out of his bed and shoving past him to put your clothes back on and jake instantly regrets this, trying to get you to stay but it seems that jake has made up your mind for you by not rejecting you but dictating what you deserved; and it wasn’t him.

“wait- don’t leave, come on.” he begs and you’re shaking your head and wiping your tears away, angry that you were crying over a man who didn’t even spare your feelings after you had just confessed to him.

when jake tries to grab onto your arm to stop you from leaving, you’re quick to snatch your arm away and leave his room, standing at the door to listen to the last of his pleas, begging you to stay and explaining that you are meant to be and that jake didn’t mean what he said but it was all too late. you could tell he was just backtracking because he was scared of losing you and although you felt the same way and wanted nothing more to run back to him; you left jake in the darkness of his bedroom without another glance.

deciding that you do deserve better even if the realization came from a heartbreaking experience, the revelation a result of having to lose someone you once held so close to your heart.

"makeup" slayyyter x lolo zouai the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@river-demon-slayer @ikeulove @fluerz @pjselee @multistansimp4life @yunthejin @urmomdotcom5678 @heebear @mora134340

#kiki diaries #enhypen #en-diaries #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

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justnatoka · 3 days ago

Text

Crisis

Sinclair brothers x GN! Reader (Bo centric)

A/n: This is by no means an original idea, it has been done many times before, but I eat this shit up every time.

Word count: 2.8k

Warning: canon typical violence, attempted sexual assault, Bo actually has feelings, reader has a panic attack

When a group of strangers unexpectedly show up in Ambrose in the middle of the night, it suddenly becomes your turn to fight for your lives – and each other.

When you awoke, the first thing you registered was the darkness. Blinking slowly a few times, eyelids heavy from sleep, you took in the quiet living room around you. Shrouded in shadows, the only sound being the occasional soft creaks of the old house settling. It was still the middle of the night, probably many hours remaining until dawn. You sat up groggily, the motion causing a dull ache to spread in your neck. A groan left your lips, and you brought up a hand to try and massage the sore muscle as best as you could. You gave up quickly, making a mental note to ask Vinny for some help with it in the morning. You dragged your legs from the blanket with a tired huff, the wood floor pleasantly cool under you bare feet. It took your foggy brain a few moments to remember why exactly you thought it was a good idea to fall asleep on the couch.

Your argument with Bo started to come back to you in hazy pictures. He was already grumpy when he left for the auto shop this morning, and it seemed his mood only soured as the day progressed. When he arrived back in the evening he was in a particularly foul temper. It didn’t take long for him to start snapping at you and Vincent over every little thing. You talked back, some words were exchanged, and in typical Bo fashion he said some things in the heat of the moment that he otherwise wouldn’t have. That’s how you ended up on the couch, feeling too angry to go and sleep next to him.

It was a reoccurring routine: Bo taking his anger out on everyone around him, you getting frustrated with him in return and punishing him by sleeping in a separate room. Most of the time you found comfort in Vincent’s bed, and on rare occasions, when you were especially upset, you even trekked out to Lester’s little cabin in the woods to spend the night. Bo always found you the next morning, apologizing for being an ass.

Lester couldn’t believe his eyes when he first witnessed it. It was the morning after your first late night visit to his cabin. A knock came from the door, and there stood Bo, head hanging in shame, ears red from embarrassment as he said sorry. He didn’t let his big brother live it down for days, not until Bo threatened him with a whooping.

He had a hard time with it, admitting that he was wrong and saying sorry, just being emotionally vulnerable in general. It was something he had to learn, and you were extremely proud of him for reaching this point. It didn’t mean that you wouldn’t get upset with him when he did the same shit again.

You felt like a headache was coming on as you remembered the argument. You desperately needed a glass of cold water. Dragging your body from the couch, you slowly shuffled towards the kitchen, faintly wondering in the back of your mind about what might have woken you up at such an hour.

You were halfway there when you heard it. A buzzing sound broke the silence of the dark house. It was jarring, the noise cutting through the peaceful stillness, causing your heartrate to skip a beat. Looking back towards the living room, you noticed your phone on the coffee table, vibrating with an incoming call. No one knew that number, no one but the Sinclair brothers that is.

As your sluggish brain was trying to make sense of why one of them would call you in the middle of the night – especially since two of them were sleeping upstairs –, another sound came to your attention. Voices, multiple, just outside the front door.

“I’m telling you, this place is a fucking ghost town.”

“No way, you saw the look on that dude’s face. He clearly didn’t want us sniffing around. Bet he’s found some hidden treasure buried around here, and wants to keep it all to himself.”

“He should buy some soap from the money while he’s at it. Guy smelled like a wet possum.”

A round of crude laughter followed, your stomach churning at the sound. You were wide awake now, your brain working a mile a minute. They were talking about Lester, right? Is he okay? Did they do something to him? Why are they here? What do they want? The gravity of the situation started to sink in heavily. There was a group of unexpected visitors in Ambrose, in the middle of the night, with who knows what intentions. You barely had time to accept the reality when the handle started turning, and then the door was already open.

Five men stood in the doorway, illuminated from behind only by the moonlight as the lights were switched off all around town. You stared at them with wide eyes, body frozen in place, halfway to the kitchen, right in front of them. You could barely make out any feature on them, but as they shifted slightly, more of the pale natural light from outside streaming in, they had a pretty good view of you. They certainly saw enough, if the change in the air around them was anything to go by. You felt rather then saw their eyes raking down your body, suddenly feeling utterly exposed in your underwear and Vincent’s baggy T-shirt.

A low whistle broke your shocked stupor, and a chill ran down your spine.

“Talk about hidden treasure. If I had such a pretty little thing, I would want to keep them all to myself too. It would be a shame if someone broke them, ain’t it, boys?”

The implication sent terror through your body, breathes coming out in shallow gasps.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart, we won’t hurt you. Much.”

The moment the first one of them stepped inside the door, your body suddenly unlocked from the frozen shock you were stuck in, and you bolted towards the kitchen. You heard their thudding footsteps behind you, your fingers almost reaching the handle of the knife drawer when you felt arms wrapping around your waist, hoisting you in the air. You kicked and clawed as they dragged you back into the living room, roughly dropping you onto the couch. You felt hands on you, all over you, grabbing your arms and legs, tugging at your clothes and your hair, and all the while that crude laughter echoed in your brain. Somewhere during the struggle to keep them away from you, you found your voice and let out a scream. It was a sound you’ve heard before, the scream of someone fighting for their life, but you never thought you were capable of making it. It was jarring to hear it ripple from your own throat.

A second later doors were ripped open above you, and heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs. You barely caught a glimpse of Bo, baseball bat in hand before he was on them, swinging at the head of the guy nearest him. It made impact with a sickening crack, and his body crumpled to the floor. Now the other four had their full attention on him. Angered by the attack on their friend, they descended upon Bo, and even though he put up a good fight, a particularly hard punch to the jaw sent him to the floor. They started kicking him, shouting obscenities at him.

It all happened so fast, you barely had time to register what you were doing before you were running towards them with a vase in hand. You picked it up without even thinking, and threw it at the head of a guy who just got hold of the baseball bat Bo had dropped and was getting ready to swing it down on him. He stumbled, but remained standing, small rivulets of blood now running down his face as he turned around and locked eyes with you. A cold dread settled in your stomach as he took a step towards you, bat still in hand, cussing up a storm about backward living freaks. He raised the bat high, his eyes full of murderous rage, and you thought this is it, he was going to bash your head in.

Just before he was about to swing down on you his body went rigid, eyes rolling back as he slumped to the floor, one of Vincent’s knives sticking out of the back of his head. You had no idea when he arrived, but he was already heading towards the guys still on Bo, knife in hand. The fight was already tilting in your favor, but then an ear-splitting shot rang out, and one of the remaining three dropped to the floor with a gaping hole in his chest. You spun your head around, seeing Lester in the front door that was left gaping open, looking disheveled and out of breath, as if he was running, shotgun in hand. Stunned by the sound of the gun going off in such a closed space, the other two intruders stood no chance, Bo and Vincent regaining their composure first and quickly ending them.

In the next few seconds, the only sound in the big silent house was heavy breathing, all of you in a daze from what just transpired. That was the moment your legs finally gave out and you sank to the floor. Your ears were ringing, and you quickly realized that the strange noise you were hearing was your own quick, shallow breathing. Adrenaline was still rushing through your veins, panic gripping your lungs, making it hard to suck oxygen into your body. You had no idea when the trembling started, fingers digging into your sides as you wrapped your arms around yourself, shaking violently. You let out a little shriek when you felt hands on you, fear still clouding your brain, screaming at you to get away from them. They quickly flinched away, and there was a slight commotion before someone spoke up.

“Ssh, sweet pea, you’re alrigh’. ‘S just me, it‘s Lester,” a gentle voice said right next to you. “You’re gonna be alrigh’, just breathe with me,” he persisted, and you heard as he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, repeating the motion again and again. Following his instructions, you felt your breathing come back to a normal rhythm bit by bit, your head becoming clearer.

When you could finally get enough air into your lungs, you took in your surroundings. Lester was sitting next to you on the floor, his mouth quirking into a small smile as he saw you coming down from your panic. Vincent was kneeling on your other side, hands outreached toward you, his fingers twitching anxiously, wanting to comfort you but also not wanting to send you into another episode. When you gathered enough strength, you sneaked one of your hands towards him, and as he wrapped his fingers around it, enveloping it in his much bigger hand, he let out a deep sigh.

Your adrenaline slowly started to die down, and with it the reality of the situation and what else could have happened finally sat in. Your eyes were quickly filling with tears, and as the first sob broke up from your throat, you were enveloped by warmth. This time you didn’t flinch away as Vincent pulled you into his chest, shielding you from the grizzly sight of the bodies littered around the living room, and you cried into his chest, your sobs rattling your shaken form. You looked so small and broken in that moment, it gripped their hearts in a vice that they couldn’t shake.

Through the haze of your tears you faintly registered angry footsteps as Bo grabbed the guy with Vincent’s knife still sticking out of his head and started dragging his body out the door. A single shot rang out, startling you, but the two younger Sinclair brothers were quick to reassure you. Then Bo stomped back in, dropping Lester’s shotgun beside him on the floor.

“I-I tried to call yall, tried to warn ya,” Lester started shakily. “Buncha assholes got lost on the back roads. When I tried to turn them around they called me names and slashed my tires. Didn’t want them to catch ya by surprise, but I couldn’t stop ‘em.” His voice wavered as he turned back to you. “’M so sorry, sweet pea. ’M sorry I couldn’t reach ya sooner.”

When your cries quietened down to sniffles, you forced your throat to speak.

“It’s not your fault, Lester, you did everything you could,” you reassured him as best as you could, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple in appreciation, his hand rubbing soothing circles against the back of your head.

A scoff made you all turn your heads to Bo. He was standing over the remaining bodies, staring them down, his body wrung tight with tension, his fists shaking by his side. He was looking at them with such hatred that you’ve never seen on him before. If you were honest, he frightened you a bit.

“Bo?” you called hesitantly.

He whipped his head around, and you flinched at the intensity of his stare. Noticing your reaction, the muscles in his jaw tightened, but his gaze softened a tad bit. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, and it took you a few moments to realize what it was. Guilt.

Reading the room, Lester motioned with his head to Vincent. They grabbed the remaining bodies and dragged them out of the house. After they came back for a second round, they closed the front door behind them, setting to work disposing of them. It left you with just Bo, who refused to look at you now, the silence between you deafening and charged.

You stood on shaky legs and shuffled over to him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. He almost wrenched it from your grasp before he caught himself. With a heavy sigh he deflated in front of your eyes, all tension leaving his body. All that remained was the slight trembling of his hands. You sneaked your hand in his, folding your fingers together, and this finally made him look at you.

He looked so utterly broken, you almost broke down crying. You were sure of it now, the guilt written on his face clear as day. Yes, he has apologized to you before after arguments, and he was sincere, but you’ve never seen him like this.

You swallowed thickly before you said aloud the first and only thing that was on your mind.

“Bo, this is not your fault.”

His face twisted a bit, a sign that he was fighting with his emotions in his head.

“Look at you,” his voice strained as his eyes ran over the exposed skin of your body, red bruises and scratches marring your skin from your struggle earlier. “God, sweetheart, look at you,” he sighed, and his pain was palpable as he continued. “You should have been by my side. You should have been sleeping next to me.” He almost spit out his next words. “But because I was so fucking stupid and angry before, you were all alone down here. If you were next to me this wouldn’t have happened.”

His admission stunned you. Taking his face into your hands, you gently ran your fingers over his own bruises, the one along his jaw already showing signs of swelling. His eyes fluttered closed, and even though he was upset, he still leaned into your touch. He looked so much worse than you probably did, taking the brunt of the beating. He got these bruise while defending you, and he still kicked himself for not doing more.

You made him look into your eyes, and even though your voice was soft, the slight tremble in it made it obvious how emotional you were.

“You don’t know that,” you stated. “Even if I was with you, they still would have showed up, and we still would have had to deal with them. I could have gotten hurt either way. So there’s no point in blaming yourself. What’s done is done. So let’s focus on what to do next.”

You could tell he was still not convinced, but he decided not to argue with you. So you did the first thing that came to your mind: you opened your arms, inviting him into a hug. If it was any other time, he would have rolled his eyes, calling you needy, before accepting your affection. Now he just pulled you in, his arms around you rigid at first, but quickly melting into your embrace. You clung to him, just like he clung to you, both of you seeking stability and comfort in the other.

Outside the living room window Lester and Vincent shared a silent look before they finally got to work. They knew Bo would be back to his old self eventually, but maybe, just maybe, this was the push he needed to really let you in. As they were busy dealing with the consequences of the night’s events, all three brothers made a promise to themselves. A promise that something like tonight would never happen again.

#house of wax #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair

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bloodywankers · 2 days ago

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tw; yandere, domestic abuse, child abuse, drugging, alcoholism, slight nsfw, bodily harm, unedited

Hate is a strong word but even it is not nearly strong enough to describe what Alexei felt for his father, the one who snatched his mothers budding career as a ballerina right from her. Not when–if not for him, perhaps he would’ve grown up loved and cared for by a mother instead of a changing rotation of nannies and tutors. The few memories he has of her usually include crying and screaming, cursing the boy for looking like ‘that monster’--what she called his father. Now that he’s an adult, he can’t help but agree, but most normal children at that age don’t tend to understand why mommy always screams and sobs when she and daddy are alone at night.

He hates to admit it but when desperate he’d even turn to his father for a morsel of affection, not unlike his brother but both were met with his cold gaze and treatment worse than that which you expect from strangers. Because, as his brother who was equally as young best described it, “Daddy only has eyes for mommy”. Every chance he got, their father got gifts for their mother. Jewellery, dresses and any other thing money could buy, well, anything except the freedom to leave. Alexei and his brother always had gifts on birthdays and holidays too, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out they were from the nannies who took pity on them rather than their parents.

But it wasn’t always bad! Sometimes daddy, sitting in the living room, would massage mommies feet— which always seemed to hurt and need treatment— and mommy would be too tired to cry or curse at the boys. On those occasions they would be allowed to play in the living room, but only if they didn’t make any noise. On those occasions Alexei felt like a real family, just like the one in the movies, if you ignored the half-drunken cup on the table near mommy with a substance too cloudy to be called water.

No one turns out normal after a childhood like his, that’s what his last therapist said at least. So no one should blame him for finding refuge in alcohol, his brother inheriting the family business allows Alexei to run nightclubs that bleed money quite easily. A privilege he’s willing to admit most don’t have, but most don’t have a family life like his either. Nowadays he doesn’t know what his parents are up to and usually, he’s too drunk to care.

Of course, it’s not all bad, he has a nice house where he can do as he pleases. It’s nothing like a typical rich bachelors house but instead one he saw in a movie once, he’d always been jealous of the family the character had so he purchased a house that looked eerily similar to the movie set. Hoping that the association would make it feel less empty and cold, he even got the same dog the main character had. A big golden retriever that he would take on walks in the mornings after a hangover, he even feeds it on time despite his drunken habits!

But a dog and suburban house don’t fill the void left by crippling loneliness, not when humans are inherently social creatures and Alexei actively denies himself this. The comfort of alcohol is limited, you can only consume so much before it stops working so occasionally he seeks the warmth of a person, usually it’s short-lived, most people have normal lives, and normal jobs they have to get to. So he usually goes straight back to sleep after he does whatever mundane routine he’s set to follow, waking up only after the last rays of the sun are gone, but occasionally he makes exceptions. This time, due to his brother demanding he attend an event with him, some sort of charity event that involved a ballet performance.

Alexei doesn’t remember much after he saw you dance in your little dress and stage makeup. For a moment in time it felt as if you two were the only people in the world, an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as you stared right into his eyes. He’s never been one to believe in these sorts of things but it almost felt like fate as your gazes met and his heart felt truly alive for the first time in so long, a sensation he was sure was not a side effect of alcohol poisoning this time.

He could faintly remember inviting you to one of his nightclubs and you begrudgingly accepting, looking back on it, being the brother of a major backer for the event might have been part of the reason you accepted but Alexei liked to think it was because you were as charmed by him as he was you. It all felt like a blur until he found himself in a hotel room with you, sitting on a sofa with you on top of him. By that point he had too much alcohol in his system to do much more than to beg you to keep going. Letting you guide him until he was on the floor and you in his place on the sofa.

“I’ve been a good boy, haven't I? You love me, right?” He’d mutter between, his words slurred and barely audible as he took one of your feet in his hand and kissed it.

“Tell me you love me.” This time he spoke in a clarity that made all his past drunkenness seem like an act, his eyes wide opened and focused solely on yours.

“Hmm?” His grip on your foot seemed to tighten as he eagerly waited for your reply, eyes staring right into yours and a blank expression waiting to contort based on your reply. He looked almost pathetic, especially when compared to how high and mighty he seemed to act when sober.

You were quick to respond with confessions of love, lest he cut off the circulation to your foot entirely and, to your pleasure, the reply seemed satisfactory enough as he continued, shifting his focus to your breasts instead. Continuing on until the sun started to peek through the window and neither of you had any more energy to continue, although you were sure he kept going long after you passed out. However, thankfully, you were able to get up before him, carefully dressing yourself so as to not wake him.

It’s almost routine for Alexei to wake up alone after spending the night with someone but he admits to feeling a little disappointed this time, hoping he could see you at least for a last time but he tries not to linger on it for too long, it’s always been like this and this time should be no different. Even if the walk home feels especially lonely when he sees parents walk their children to school and young couples bask in each other's company. He doesn't like to admit it but that doesn't make it any less unbearable.

He’s never lingered so much after spending the night with someone, never bothered to figure out their name or the place they work at, nor as he ever bothered to add any events they could likely attend to his calendar. It’s out of character, he acknowledges as he scrolls through your social media, careful not to like any of your posts to tip you off, at least not until the time is right. It gets to the point where even people around him start to notice.

“You’ve been going around asking for information on her, how would I not know when you called the event organisers?” His brother, Viktor, said. At this point, any normal person might’ve reprimanded Alexei for acting like a lowly stalker. But it’s so difficult to tell him off when this is the longest anyone has seen him sober. Especially when he wakes up at normal hours every day and indulges in hobbies he knows you like in the hope of impressing you. This is still despite not having met you since that day. It’s hard to tell him to go back to isolating himself and indulging in little more than slowly destroying his health. And so what if knowing how his brother is, it comes at the cost of a stranger? It was a worthy sacrifice, in Viktor's eyes, if his brother could feel a sense of normalcy for the first time in his life.

According to his original plan, Alexei was going to ‘coincidentally’ meet you again and formally introduce himself. He was going to court you and go on dates with you like normal couples do, he would propose after a year with him. He didn’t mean to have you wake up with a chain to your ankle but he couldn’t help himself when he saw your attention shifting from him to someone else. He got anxious thinking all his plans had been for nothing, as he pictured you with another man while he could do nothing but offer you bitter congratulations.

As you nervously sat in front of him in the dim office, Alexei couldn’t help but smile, taking in the sight before he continued. “Despite your skill, you still haven’t gotten a main role yet, have you, [name]?”

You knew how this went, so many of the company's favourite ballet dancers had used similar means after all, but it didn’t make you feel any less dirty as you replied. “No, sir.” He looked different from that day, his hair better kept and face not as sunken in as that night. Had you met under different circumstances you would have no qualms against admitting he was a truly handsome man.

“Well, I don’t think that fair, especially for someone as talented as yourself, so, I’d like to offer to sponsor you. Of course, that is, only if you would agree to it.” You almost laughed at this. Alexei was just as aware of this as you, if you dared to deny his offer it would mark the end of your career. You would never dance again. “Sponsor…?” You couldn’t help but feel a shiver run through you as you looked up to find him smiling, it was an unfamiliar expression. Even that accursed night his expressions had been nothing short of pitiful but now he felt like a completely different person.

You couldn’t find it within you to say yes immediately, not when you still remembered the events that took place after you left that hotel room, the way your skin burned as you scrubbed it to try to get rid of that dirty sensation you felt, the way everyone stared at you when you returned to practice at the studio. They had seen you leave with him last night and could clearly see the marks peeking through. It felt unbearable to even think about it.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice Alexei now standing behind you as his hands placed on your shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Everything after that felt like a repeat of that night, the only difference being that this time he was sober throughout, which felt arguably worse. At least he was somewhat consolable that time, a childish pitifulness present in his expression even as he clawed through your skin and took from you with not a shred of remorse. At least then you could console yourself thinking it was a drunken mistake but this time his eyes were clear as day as they bore right into your own. His words were perfectly coherent as he proclaimed his undying love and his movements deliberate and controlled as he twisted your ankle in ways it shouldn't.

Masterlist

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere character #oc #original character #yandere oc #yandere blog #yandere x you #x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere oc #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #obsessive yandere #yanderecore #yandere tendencies #yandere community

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starlvcied · 10 hours ago

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₊˚⊹♡ rin itoshi x f!reader " FRAMED RIVALRY " CHAPTER 002

in which your academic rival, aka the captain of the soccer team, sneaks his way into the photography club with you. ꨄ︎ CHAPTER 002

cw: swearing (a lot) , rin definitely needs therapy wc : 1.8k

if someone had told you a week ago that rin itoshi would willingly join the photography club, you wouldve laughed in their face. yet here he is, showing up to every meeting like he belongs, sitting in on discussions, and most annoying– actually being good at it.

it doesnt make sense. rin is the the type to dismiss anything that doesn't revolve around soccer, the kind of person that scoffs at having to do anything that doesnt serve his ambitions. but every time you try to pry into his real motives, he gives you the same flat responses.

“i told you, i just like photography.” or–

“can you piss off?” or–

“mind your fucking business, lukewarm.”

but noone else seems to question it. the club members welcome him in without hesitation (except for livvy and daria, who you specifically warned to stay the hell away from him), is probably more impressed by the fact that the soccer captain is even acknowledging their existence. it gets on your nerves, especially when people start treating him like he’s some kind of prodigy. well, he sorta is– but thats besides the point.

“he’s a fast learner,” daria comments as you all review recent shots on the clubs computer. “look at this framing– i cant believe he did that.”

you barely glance at the image before skipping them with a scoff. “anyone can take a decent picture with the right settings. he’s just copying the techniques i already explained to him.”

rin, whos leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. he doesnt even react to your dismissiveness. “jealous?” he asks, his voice as indifferent as ever.

you slowly turn around, facing him with a scowl. “of you? not a chance.”

“well thats not a pretty face.”

it becomes a pattern. rin attends every meeting that doesnt get in the way of his practice or his games, participating just enough to remain involved, and occasionally throws in dry, insulting comments at you and your clubmates, mostly you, made to push your buttons. and unfortunately, it works. you’d expect him to lose interest within days, to get bored and drop the act. but he doesnt.

and thats what bothers you the most.

you dont usually mind morning classes. if anything, you enjoy them– mostly due to most of the students being too tired to be rowdy, so mornings at your school are pretty peaceful. but that was before rin itoshi started making them unbearable.

ever since the debate project forced you to work together, things have only escalated between you two. its like a silent war– every test, every assignment, every question posed by the teacher turns into an unspoken battle for dominance.

and neither of you are willing to lose.

so when your first period teacher walks in, announcing an impromptu quiz, you already know exactly where this is headed. you get a glance at rin through your peripheral and find that he was already looking at you. obsessed freak.

“i’ll be grading these on the spot,” the teacher says, handing out the papers. “no multiple choice– explanations are required. show your reasoning.”

you glance to your left once more, where rin is already twirling that stupid ballpoint pen between his fingers, the epitome of nonchalance. but you know better. you can feel the competitive energy radiating off of him.

the moment the papers hit your desk, it begins. you dont even bother writing your name, nor the date, nor the period.

the only sound in the room is the scratching of pens against paper. you work quickly but precisely, mapping out each answer with clear, logical steps. you’re writing harder than usual, your lead breaking a few times, and your palm begins to burn. you refuse to give rin the satisfaction of finishing before you.

a flicker of movement catches your eye. rin shifts slightly in his seat, leaning forward as he writes, his stroke sharp and decisive. he’s fast. too fast. it reminds you of how he acts on the field.

you grit your teeth. hes rushing. that has to be it. theres no way hes double checking his work at that pace. (unless he doesnt have to. maybe he is as perfect as he presents himself to be.)

your pencil moves faster.

you finish just as rin sets his pen down.

both of you look up at the same time, locking eyes.

theres a moment of intense silence. then, without a word, you both flip your papers over and slide them toward the edge of your desks, waiting for the teacher to collect them.

the rest of the class finishes at a normal, more human pace– less like a factory machine. but you and rin remain frozen in place, the unspoken competition still lingering between you.

the teacher grades quickly, making occasional sounds of both approval and disapproval. you watch as she pauses at rin’s paper (you knew it was his because you had already memorized his stupid handwriting, and got a glance at the moment she picked it up). her eyebrows lifted slightly before marking something. then she gets to yours, tapping her pen against the desk thoughtfully before moving on.

finally, she returns her focus back to the class. “excellent work from most of you,” she says, “but per usual, our top scorers were neck and neck.”

you sit up straighter. rin remains still.

the teacher glances between the two of you, lips quirking slightly, as if she finds this amusing. “one of you scored 100%. the other, a 99.”

your breath catches.

you whip your head toward rin at the same time he looks at you. his expression is unreadable, but you could see it in his eyes– hes waiting.

the teacher places the papers down on her desk. “the perfect score goes to…” she paused. you felt as if she was creating suspense on purpose. she finally flips one over, revealing the name scrawled at the top.

and to your surprise, its not yours.

for a second, you just stare at it. the weight of that single point settles uncomfortably in your chest, and embarrassment bubbles in your stomach.

slowly, you turn to look at him. he’s not smirking, not outright gloating, but theres a flicker of triumph in his expression. the way his lips press together, the way his fingers drum lightly on the desk as if to say, i win.

you inhale sharply. one point. you lost by one point.

it shouldnt bother you this much. its just a quiz. its not like this is the first time one of you has beaten the other.

but it does bother you– no, it enrages you.

so when the teacher move’s on, discussing the correct answers, you lean slightly toward rin and mutter, “enjoy your fuckin’ moment. this wont happen again.”

he doesnt look at you, but the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “thats not very head of the student council of you.”

that stupid fucking smirk made you want to strangle him and leave him to the rats. you pursed your lips before responding, your tone the opposite of polite. “shut up, dickwad.”

he didnt seem to take it to heart. all he gave was a simple eye roll and a breathy laugh, if you could even call it that. “sounds like someones mad they lost.”

and just like that, the war continues.

rin itoshi is an annoyingly fast learner.

that much becomes obvious after only a few days in the photography class.

youd hoped he would get bored, that the frustration of being a beginner would drive him a way. but rin treats photography the same way he treats soccer or school– like a challenge. and rin doesnt lose.

which means hes actually trying.

and, worse– he’s getting better.

you watch as he crouches low, camera in hand, adjusting his focus with practiced precision. as of right now, the photography club was taking pictures while the student government set up the school to become more valentine's day themed. currently, you had rin practice by taking a photo of a boy hanging up heart-shaped decor on the walls. he clicks the shutter, barely pausing before reviewing the shot.

you dont want to admit it, but the composition is good. the depth of field is balanced, and the framing naturally draws the eye to the subject.

he stands, his frame towering over you as he turned the camera toward you. “better?”

you tilt your head, pretending to scrutinize. “..its fine.”

rin frowns slightly. “thats what you said last time.”

“maybe you’re just ‘fine’ at this.”

his lips press into a thin line. “lukewarm critique.”

you roll your eyes. “you want real critique?” you snatch the camera from his hands and point at the screen. “your subject placement is predictable, your angles are too rigid, and you rely too much on symmetry. it looks… controlled.”

rin raised an eyebrow. “and thats a bad thing?”

“its a safe thing.” you lift your own camera. “photography isnt just about control. Its about instinct, feeling natural. feeling the shot instead of just calculating it.

rin doesnt look convinced. “feeling doesnt win anything.”

“tell that to every award winning photographer literally ever.” you step past him, snapping a picture without even looking through the viewfinder. then you turn the screen toward him. “see?”

rin stares at it for a moment, then exhales through his nose. “so youre saying i should just take random pictures instead? thats stupid.”

you roll your eyes again. “i’m saying you should stop treating this like a competition.”

he gives you a look that is so blatantly unimpressed that it makes your blood boil. “you think im competing with you?”

you stare at him. is he fucking serious?

rin doesnt react. no denial, no confirmation. he just watches you with that same impassive expression, teal eyes unreadable. then he tilts his head slightly.

“or maybe i just like photography.”

the way he says it– so deliberately, so casually– makes you want to shove your camera down his throat and watch him choke to death.

instead, you step closer, voice low. “say that again with a straight face.”

rin blinks. then, like the shitty little menace he is, he repeats with a deadpanned expression. “maybe i just like photography.”

you swear he’s fucking with you.

the moment is cut short– the bell. the club members begin packing up, and rin, as usual, moves on as if nothing happened. you watch as he slings his camera strap over his shoulder, leaving without another word.

and you– you are left standing there frustrated beyond belief.

because of the rivalry.

because he’s improving too fast.

and because you're starting to believe he’s damn near perfect, and you hate it.

what does this mean for you?

001<< >>003

i got lazy w this so its kinda bad sorry!! also i dont know jack shit abt photography lol just roll with it.

tags: @mixolya @x3nafix @rinniebinniebay @levihanmyotp @anqelkoz @megumismyhusband @aisqka

#rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock #blue lock smau #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #academic rivals

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tearsaura · 2 days ago

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In the woods, the monster awaits // Eris Vanserra x reader

Based on this comment by @astarionsdurge thank you so much for this prompt! I hope you like it.

picture is from pinterest: tanema3

Word count: 1.2k

The estate was much quieter nowadays. Visiting it served only two purposes: seeing my mother or following up on court business. It always felt cold, which is ironic since our power was quite the opposite.

My father’s office was the furthest away at the highest floor and even that didn’t seem far away enough from us. As I climbed up the stairs and entered his space a few moments later, the familiar smell of his cologne hit me and it made my skin crawl.

“We must check in with y/l/n. The magic on our borders is wearing of. There has been an increase on beasts in the woods and if they get any closer, they’ll feast on the village by noon and on us by the evening.” Beron said without looking up from his papers as I stepped closer to his desk.

Well hello to you too father!

Yes, I am doing alright thank you for asking!

Our army shrinks with every day that passes but you already knew that and you refuse to do anything about it! What will you do when there are none left, even for you?

How are you feeling? Any chance that you step down and free this court from its misery?

My father, the high lord of the autumn court, summoned me at dawn to complain, like he usually did. He did take me by surprise that he decided to do something about it instead of delegating it to someone else. Maybe the thoughts of being a meal for some beasts did worry him.

“Shall I meet up with him today?”

“No, I already scheduled to meet up and I want you to accompany me, I need to have a word with him first but after that it is going to be your problem.” He said, raising from his chair.

With other words, he wanted the people from the village to think that he does care about them. That’s what he usually does: Goes to the poorer villages occasionally, act as if he cares, promises them that he works something out to help them but never actually does it. He wordlessly walked out, his guards trailing after him. I sighed, counted to ten, and went after them.

The horse ride to the boarders went quietly thankfully. I tuned out my fathers talking and took in the lands. The autumn court was beautiful, especially the forest. We reached the said place at the border shortly, and nobody was there. I got off my horse and gave him something to eat before joining my father, who was already seething. It was astonishing, how short his patience ran.

“This is unacceptable. Where is the old man?” Beron complained as he dismounted his horse, walking further into the woods.

Please dear mother, let this man get lost in there and never come back.

“This is a forest, he probably needs some time to find us because it looks all, you know, the same.” I claimed, walking after him whilst keeping my distance.

“I am the high lord of the autumn court! I do not have the time or the nerve to wait on some old Witcher to find his way to the place I ordered him to get to on time. He’s a Witcher don’t they sense people?”

“We don’t. We only sense the magic, or well, the lack of it.” A feminine voice called and as I turned around, I was sure that reality had left me. The unknown woman came towards us, my father taking a few steps back as his guards stepped in front of him.

She nearly made me drop to my knees. There were no words on this world that would do right in describing how beautiful she was. No music could come close to the sound of her voice. Without thinking, I stepped closer to her.

The woman raised up her hands in surrender. “No need to draw weapons. I am not here to harm you, high lord. My father sends me: y/l/n, the old Witcher?” she said, a coy smile graced her red lips. Of course, I personally hadn’t seen her father but her signature light grey, almost white, eyes gave her away as a family member of the witches.

“Why didn’t he come himself? I specifically told him that he should come. One would think that the order of the High lord where to take-” “He went to another weak spot. Sadly, this area isn’t our only problem. It took me a while to find you because the magic is missing in multiple places.”

I swallowed. One leakage was bad, but manageable. Multiple where a bad sign. Something was wrong.

“So, what can we do about it?” I asked, her eyes now fixating on me. They looked just like the sky during autumns stormy afternoons. Very hard to look away from, pulling me deeper into this trance.

“You are?”

“Eris. Eris Vanserra.” She continued to look at me, her head tilting slightly. She had a mole right over her upper lip on the left side.

“My oldest son.” I hadn’t even realised that my father had stepped closer too. “He will take over this matter and you’ll correspond directly to him. Unfortunately, I must go. Court affairs.” He said, before he went to his horse, his guards trailing after him.

She waited for a few moments, watching my father and his guards leaving and as they became a small figure in the distance, her attention turned back to me.

“I feel sorry for lady autumn. It must be tiring to listen to this man for even a second, I fear.”

“You have no idea.” I replied and she gave me another smile. She had dimples.

“So, my father and I are working on resurrecting the old magic that was used. But it is many centuries old and all the tomes we have need to be translated first. We will work with lesser magic until we have it but that would only last days or weeks at most. For the time being I would stay here to make sure that everything is alright.” She said, stemming her hands on her hips as she observed.

She smelled divine. Oranges with a hint of vanilla. He wanted to wrap her scent around him for the rest of his life.

“The Forrest house isn’t far from here. You can stay there.” I blurted, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, that is quite all right I thought about bringing a tent-” “A tent? Absolutely not. You are saving your people with your work. The least I can do is make sure that you have an actual roof over your head.” I said, stepping closer to her. She bit her lip, as she looked up to me, the confidence from before replaced with sudden shyness.

“Thank you, Eris.”

Eris. That’s what did it. I suddenly felt the thin golden thread pulling me towards her and my breath hitched.

Mate.

Must protect her, must keep her safe.

I found my mate. I took everything in me not to blurt it right out.

“Of course.” I whispered, before I held out my arm to her hoping that she didn’t notice it trembling.

“I’ll bring you there.”

#acotar #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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soobinieee · 1 day ago

Text

Player Two

pairing: wonwoo x f!reader

word count: 726

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

sum. usual game nights with wonwoo were never the same again after that one night.

You and Wonwoo have a tradition—late-night gaming sessions at his house every Friday night. You and Wonwoo were neighbours and attended the same high school. One day, some parcels were delivered to your house instead of his so your mom asked you to drop it off at his. When you rang the doorbell, you were greeted by his mom who smiled brightly at you and invited you into his house. You walked in and saw Wonwoo playing the Mario Kart on his PS4. "You play Mario Kart?" you asked curiously. Wonwoo, focused on his game, did not turn around and simply answered with a "Yes." Later on, Wonwoo asked you to join him since he got bored of playing alone. You excitedly took the other controller and started to race him. This continued on in the following Friday night.

One Friday game night turned to two, which then turned to every Friday night.

Now 2 years later, you and Wonwoo are in college. However, this tradition still continued. Instead of going to his house, you now walk over to his dorm to catch a gaming session every Friday night, which was mostly fueled by cans of Monster energy drinks and the usual buldak samyang cup noodle.

The difference between you and Wonwoo when gaming was that he is always calm and collected but you tend to mash the buttons on the controller furiously, in hopes of beating Wonwoo. After so many years of gaming with Wonwoo, you sure had learn ways to beat him but he still wins more... Other than competing against Wonwoo, you sometimes team up with him. It really depends on what game he chooses for the night. Regardless, you enjoyed every Friday night with him.

Just like every Friday night, you walk your way to Wonwoo's dorm. He welcomed you in and you were greeted by the usual setting. Lights dimmed while the brightness of the Tv screen radiated off the walls of his room. Tonight Wonwoo chose Mario Kart. "Ah, the good ol' days." you sighed. You parked yourself comfortably in his couch and took the controller that you have always been using.

"Player two, are you ready?" Wonwoo asked as he came to you with a cup of water. You nodded and the game night started.

As the night went on, you realised you lost more than you won. Wonwoo laughed every time you lose, smugly offering to "help" you by leaning close and guiding your hands over the controller. You tried to ignore how warm his hands were and how good he smelt—but it was getting harder each time. You rolled your eyes and avoided the fact that he was making you feeling giddy. There was even one time where you accidentally made eye contact with him. Feeling shy, you immediately turned away and cleared your throat. Tonight surely felt different as you thought to yourself.

"How bout we bet on something." you suggested.

"Sure, what do you want?"

"Hmm, if I win this round, you owe me something. Anything I ask for. Deal?"

Wonwoo smirked. "Deal. But if I win, you owe me something too."

That one particular game of Mario Kart turned super competitive. You were so agitated that you ended up standing on the couch.

"HAH. I won." You announced proudly as you jumped on his couch. You definitely did not expect to win considering how it was a difficult map.

"What do you want?" Wonwoo asked, which surprised you.

Heart racing, and before you could even think, you blurted out, "Take me on a date."

He blinked at you and for a moment an uncomfortable silence filled the air.

"I was hoping for you to say that."

Your cheeks turned red. Hiding your face behind his couch cushions, you heard him chuckling.

"Now let's see what happens when I win." Wonwoo turned back to the Tv to select a new game.

The next round was filled with more playful trash talks and stolen glances. You would occasionally rest your legs on his lap while he tickles you to distract you. Giggles heard, and hopes of new beginnings to something more were felt in the room.

Wonwoo leaned in before the game even ended and whispered, "I think I'll take my prize now."

And just like that, Friday game nights will never be the same again.

#kpop fluff #kpop imagines #svt fic #svt fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #svt wonu #wonu fluff #wonu #wonwoo fic #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo x reader #svt x y/n #svt x you #svt wonwoo #svt fanfic #soobinieee writes!

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troublesomecousin · 6 months ago

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I think Kevin should be allowed to be really good at claw machine games. Tommy can have pinball, but if you need someone who always manages to get a prize from the claw machine then Kevin's your man. He's also proficient at those knock over the can games because he throws ridiculously hard. He will dent the cans, and he WILL win the biggest prize.

#He just goes into focus mode and always positions the claw JUST RIGHT #He even gets two at the same time occasionally #I know they're usually rigged but he is the claw master #But yeah Kevin loves PRIZES #Do not get between him and a cheap favor showing that he WON #(Cigarette Burn on Your Arm) Headcanons

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ruporas · 2 years ago

Photo

can’t talk about it

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.

Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."

The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"

The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."

The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."

The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."

The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #Theyre both thoroughly exhausted tired individuals -- vash having to fight this lonely battle for over a hundred years and getting dragged #back into inevitable situation with knives after a 2 years hiatus of being a gunslinger. they both need so much Rest and comfort in this #department... .SIGHS. BUT I JUST THINK ABOUT WOLFWOOD . AND HOW... LITTLE He has existed on no man's land. how majority of his years being #alive is being used as a weapon and to kill when him at his very core is the most giving and selfless individual ever #badlands rumble inspired me a bit but i do think wolfwood gets dragged into occasional tasks from the eye of michael while on his duty of #guiding vash -- or i think that one chapter where we got to see other members of eom -- there's like a clear division within the eom too #i think.... so i figured similarly to vash but not to the same amount -- there are people that look for wolfwood too. but most of the time #it's probably wolfwood that has to look for someone else and take them out. i feel like it happens ever so occasionally.#evidentially these two don't talk enough canonically but they always know how to express things properly to affirm that they're okay #they have the worst time ever sharing burdens - can't willingly burden the other and has neeever asked for help or reprieve in their #desperate situations... vw is a huge case of right person wrong time syndrome so they just. in the time they get to spend together -- even #if romantically - they don't have enough time to heal to get over that kind of hurdle. They've just never asked for help in all the years #they've been alive -- they don't even know how to and its just aughhhsgskg #and well! they don't even need to ask! because they'll be there for each other anyway at the end of the day -- company and presence alone.#ruporas art

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shuobox · 1 day ago

Text

been having thoughts. Hence more spitballing here:

Bailey the caretaker

- Bailey is blind in one eye and missing a foot from two close encounters, which is why he personally rarely goes out on expeditions himself (his eye was a more recent thing . lost his foot around when the apocalypse started)

- manages cooking and water purification because he feels paranoid the orphans might try something or mess up

- usually has a scowl on his face, even when sleeping

- personal weaponry includes a pistol, coach gun, and probably a war hammer

- should PC get visibly infected and come to Bailey for help, he’ll most likely kill them lmfao . his ass is not taking chances and views it as a mercy

^ same goes for anybody who gets infected

- doesn’t really like Remy but cooperates with him for the sake of keeping the orphanage safe. Remy likes taking the piss out of him

- genuinely does care for the orphans somewhat . he’s mostly fond of the younger (and helpful) ones, meanwhile he bosses around the older residents

- if one of the older orphans refuses to do any duties/tasks consecutively for months for no apparent reason, Bailey views them as useless— he exiles them, or sends them on a scavenging mission he knows they won't return from with minimal supplies, saying it's a simple errand. He believes having dead weight will be detrimental to the rest of the orphans and eat up supplies (this is correct in his eyes . the ends justify the means)

- he was around 13 when the apocalypse first broke out, and around 16 when he lost his foot

- thinks eden left him out to die with a mutant when they were younger (resulting in the aforementioned loss in foot) which is why he holds such a grudge against him. the two have attempted to kill each other several times in past encounters

Whitney the leader

- whitney came into the school (which was under the supervision of Leighton) after arriving from a different town, originally was just desperate to have a roof over his head but started getting cocky

- thought it was ironic (and grating) that leighton liked acting like a saviour, while barely disguising what he did to other students as “payment” for letting them stay

- due to his charisma, was both popular and seen as the unofficial-official leader because he was in on basically everything and kept things even

- when it was Whitney’s turn for ‘payment’, he bludgeoned Leighton’s head with a broken chair leg, afterwards declaring himself as leader along w his friends

- in turn, the school is practically fortified and most weapons are scavenged or made with scraps

- Whitney tends to terrorize other parts of the town for their resources (usually for food), Sydney particularly dislikes him and dreads his appearances

- Whitney doesn’t usually go to the orphanage as he’s slightly intimidated by Bailey and Remy

- holds PC for hostage at one point to bribe Robin to give him something valuable

- i REALLY want to make him to get his ass kicked by scavengers in one encounter and he winds up relying on PC for help

- still probably calls PC slut

- uses a bat with nails embedded into it, assault rifle, and has a hidden deringer somewhere on his person

- Keeps up his rough-and-tough persona on account of being genuinely petrified at the idea of losing all the control he has been carefully cultivating over the high school

Kylar the stray

- Kylar was originally at the school but ran away before Whitney took control

- although was occasionally bothered by Whitney (because whit saw him as a hoarder)

- wanders around town (very rarely near the school), forest and wasteland . has a chance of rescuing PC if they faint from exhaustion during an expedition or any other reason

- otherwise, you spot him around in an abandoned house looking for food the same time as you, to which he practically pleads and begs for mercy

- regardless of PC’s paranoia the display is genuinely so pathetic they feel like it’d just be a waste of energy/bullets/whatever if they’re previously inclined to fight first talk later . you can tell him to give him something or trade as an offering of peace, to which he accepts

- theres a later encounter in the house (which becomes a meeting spot) w/ a mutant which PC saves him from, which is the point where he becomes infatuated w/ PC

- starts to pop up around town more often. If PC is out on an expedition alone, he stalks at a distance before eventually joining

- still the same freak ……

- main weapons include his handy dandy knife, something adjacent to a sniper rifle, and various tear gas/poison bombs he makes himself (could possibly be wearing a gas mask?)

Robin the orphan

- Robin is usually your expedition buddy, as Bailey knows you’re both on good terms and tend to come back in one peace

- you’re stuck going with him either in a pair or with a group . you also share a tent during longer expeditions

- durable guy but reaaally not that good at fighting. relies on you to ward away mutants while he gathers whatever scraps he can to bring back to Bailey

- robin’s trauma raises each time he witnesses something disturbing or sees another orphan die/get infected . spikes really high at one point when he saw Bailey exiling one of the orphans (petrified of being too useless in Bailey’s eyes/dying)

- at some point he himself gets infected in a freak encounter with another mutant and goes missing — staying away from the orphanage on purpose out of fear (up to PC whether you want to find and help him recover before he becomes a full mutant) . replacement of the docks scene except Bailey probably little to no part in it lol

- mainly uses a spare machete, revolver, and crowbar

Sydney the Archivist

- hello jogn . sorry for the deception

- manages the temple/hospital place’s library and medical records

- protective over the books — won’t actually let you take anything out, only letting you maybe copy information on a spare piece of scrap paper

- fond of Robin and PC, hates Whitney and is somewhat distrustful of Kylar (but eventually mellows out … if Kylar doesn’t do anything)

- the religion stuff is different in this so there isn’t chastity devices its more like . Just pseudo christianity or something. unlabelled religion all you need to know is that they like angels and praying and thats it .

- frequently fiddles w his necklace, holds it while he prays in his downtime

- reads to the children in the youth ward

- massive worrywart . if PC comes in even slightly injured he’ll insist on helping and cleaning them up

- golden boy of the hospital

- fond of poems. writes what comes to mind on his hand

- doesn’t have many weapons — mainly just a rifle and revolver, but even then he’s often reluctant to use them out of inexperience

- I'm not actually sure what corrupt sydney would be like. Hiding a parasite? Afraid he'll lose everything if he gives in? Possibly has hallucinations during moments of stress that reveal the parasite

Orphanage

- main meals of the day include:

• breakfast: usually tends to be porridge or some other gruel . not the tastiest thing in the world, but nutrient-dense enough to keep you functioning

• dinner: soup of any kind. Bailey mainly uses whatever ingredients are on-hand or however many cans of soup there is in the storage.

• supper: leftovers of whatever is available. Bailey tries to use up food before it goes bad, dislikes the notion of having spoiled food

- older kids tend to be grouped together by twos or fours, younger kids live in bunkbed rows. if an older one wants to move, that's something for them to hash out, as Bailey couldn't care less unless it interrupts schedule (Or if the child in question is particularly useful/valuable in something)

- younger kids don’t go on expeditions, but can only help in chores around the orphanage until they grow up

- Bailey sleeps in his office; had to lend his bedroom for more space (not the happiest about it)

- the tasks Bailey leaves up to the orphans/PC is:

• taking trash out

• cleaning

• farming

• organizing resources/taking inventory, which he later checks/supervises

• keeping themselves fed and clean

• going out on expeditions for resources/materials (organized by him)

• going out on errands around town (also organized and requested by him)

• fortifying the orphanage

• waking up the younger kids

• maintaining their personal weapons, while ensuring the ones they get lended remain in working condition

- loft is used as a base of operations and weapon repair

- you room w/ Robin . decorating your room grants a boost to stress decrease

- interactions in the orphanage include giving younger orphans a share of your food, comforting worried orphans, joining them in (playable) card games, offering to help with chores for + fatigue, finding lost items, getting to know various npcs around the orphanage and them having their own little side quests

temple/hospital

-- Harper manages most of the hospital. also has a strange fascination with parasites and infections . Following the theme of this game being less fetisjh-heavy, his demeanor feels like a scientist who sees everybody else like a bunch of rats scurrying around a maze . he has a few mutants he experiments on, and is particularly fond of this sickly cat-pigeon- melted into a vague slug-shape amalgamation he calls "angel". She's his little pet-project whom he is trying to nurse back to health . many workers find this mildly off-putting.

-- one of the few npcs who won't react with immediate violence if they see PC visibly infected by a late-stage parasite. Harper will find you intriguing and often ask to experiment on you or observe your changes/draw blood . he's aware other npcs will freak out at the sight of you, so he offers you a hiding place until the visibility of your infection simmers down and you're able to rejoin society without looking like a freak of nature. in return harper will uphold your end of the deal via light and slightly questionable experimentation

-- weirdly enough DOR harper is more . affectionate rather than creepy/perverted with PC here? even if they react aggressively or dismissive towards him, they'll continue to hover around in hopes of coaxing them down enough to take a peek at their changes . this guy really wants to put you under a microscope .

-- the hospital itself is quite spacious . waiting room/front desk is used somewhat like a communal area. aslyum section is used similarly to quarantine zones for infected

-- the temple has sort of assimilated into the place . works out for the hospital as they get more helpers around, while the temple gets to preserve their sacred texts and ways of life

-- the youth ward is heavily guarded. most children very rarely spend more than an hour outside, and if they do, they're closely monitored to ensure they do not roam away from the group .

-- there is a small graveyard of children who died of health complications and were unable to be treated due to a lack of resources . the graveyard sits in the courtyard

-- aforementioned library/archives is also quite large . workers will confront you to give up any flammable items before entering -- resisting while having a lesser physical level will result in getting kicked out and temporarily banned from the hospital unless you're desperate (aka dying)

high school

-- heavily guarded by "gangs" (essentially clubs) and overseen by Whitney, whom everyone relies on thanks to his suave and brute force

-- closed off from the rest of town - most locals dislike the area because of how trashed it is

-- groups come and go, Whitney doesn't oversee anything nor demand people go out on scouting missions unlike Bailey. most resources follow the "first come first served" rule, but sharing your supplies leads to your status amidst the school increasing

-- getting high enough status makes people consider you either a saint or a secondary leader, which Whitney - depending on your relationship - happily flaunts or sees it as a threat to his own rule . if your demeanor with him is negative or hostile, he'll attempt to corner and fight you

-- high school mainly operates through intimidation, threats, and attacking in large groups, hence why most locals dislike them.

-- despite the brash and prideful front, the high school genuinely struggles in keeping up food supply because there's never any organization or schedule. Most have taken to hoarding anything edible because of a distrust between various gangs.

-- being affiliated with one gang (not necessarily joining it) leads to an increase or decrease to other gang's perception of you. It's possible to even the scales out perfectly across all counts and be friendly to all

-- the school, on account of being connected to the nearby forest, is highly paranoid of the wolf amalgamation that roams near the forest caves - the main reason why they don't feel willing to go out and find their own food and water supplies. helping to kill it or tame it leads to a high increase in status, as well as increasing Whitney's perception of you

-- if status is low, the gangs may bully around the PC or attempt to rob them on sight. This is different if PC reacts with aggression and win in most encounters, whereas most gangs will feel wary at the sight of them.

-- a few events could happen where the player could possibly help out Whitney from getting attacked by a gang planning to stage a coup, or by rescuing one of the members from the wasteland and bringing them back safely

other notable locations

town hall (communal area, where most trades take place)

sewage tunnels (mutated fish, random encounters)

junkyard (dangerous zone -- mutants roaming, however valuable items and materials can be found)

houses in districts (various abandoned homes. yield random items, but also carry the risk of having a mutant or monster housing them)

abandoned farm (various horse and cow amalgamations roam. there is one. there is a chance one may spontaneously begin to hunt you. within the farm, there's various food items, weapons, and tools scattered about that could prove useful)

arcade (wires and other electric components here. a few machines could possibly be re-wired if knowledge points are high enough. enables the area as a little leisure/date location)

forest (self explanatory -- most interactions will be about scavengers, strays, or parasites/mutants)

wasteland (more commonly for scavenger interactions. main and only path on-foot to get to the next town over)

northern, southern, western, eastern towns (separate from the center town where the orphanage etc is -- these four areas are usually where Bailey sends you out to scavenge supplies. PC will normally be sent in a group and spend around 3-4 days inside a camp until returning)

lake (found within forest - radiation wraith's lair. don't enter the water.)

degrees of lewtidy but instead of getting your freak on its called degrees of radiation and you’re busy trying to survive against some evil ass monstrosity of flesh and toxic waste because Bailey thinks you’re a lazy bum who hasn’t brought back supplies in some time (robin is a few yards away trying to shove as many scraps and resources into a duffel bag as he can)

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