#I heard something about one of the old writers being there to help with it? so idk what's true in this case

[rosewine-5]

Baby Come Over

Wolverine/Logan Howlett x black fem reader

gif made by blursbian

Summary: Wade is hellbent of getting you to meet his new roommate, but what is his motive? (Note: I am not the best writer, but I had motivation, and the title is definitely not taken from Virgo’s Groove)

Warning: drunken asshole, Wade Wilson, cursing, unprotected piv smut (wrap it before you tap it) fingering, riding, soft!dom Logan MDNI 18+

Word Count: 4.2

-

Wade encouraged you to meet the new man in his life, not knowing if it was a new friend, a boyfriend, or someone he wanted to pursue romantically. Knowing him, it was probably both, but you agreed anyway. "Come on, sugar. I'm a vigilante, you're a fine-as-wine vigilante, and he's an old but good-looking mutant who needs some TLC— he'll love you immediately," Wade insisted, bringing it up again as you two talked over a late dinner while sitting on his couch.

Wade, I have to work all next week," you said, trying to get out of it. "Yeah, bartending is so hard. When was the last time you got laid? The pink vibrator doesn't count," he added for extra measure, almost making you slap him. "None of your business. Besides, I don't ask about your business even though we, unfortunately, share a wall. And why did you go through my drawer?!”

“My point being said, he needs friends, you need a new one, and if you won’t be with him I will! And besides, I'm Marvel Jesus, there's nothing I can’t do!” Wade insisted, emphasizing his statement with his hands and ignoring your question.

You knew better than to argue with him because he could go on for hours, so you agreed. You had pulled your braids into a ponytail and walked next door, where you saw the small get-together Wade had arranged. “Sweetie! You made it!” he cheered, answering the door, and dragging you in. He put you in front of him as he walked you to the back of the apartment, where Logan wasn’t facing you.

“He’s a bit grumpy today, but I’ll talk to him. Hey, three-pronged wolf!” Wade said, trying to get his attention.

He got it all right.

Before you could even introduce yourself you felt something pierce your arm, three things. You were met with the face of a man who looked like he was ready to knock someone out, it was Logan. His face quickly changed when he realized he hadn’t stabbed Wade, and immediately tried to cover the wound he made. “Ah, shit!” He cursed, looking you in the eyes.

“Now this is not how we greet potential lovers, gramps! Shame on you.” Wade scolded playfully, looking between you and Logan. “Well that’s a good icebreaker, or skin breaker I should say.” He said, looking at your already healing skin.

“Well, Logan, this is my best friend, she heals like us, curses like me. Sugar, this is Logan, the old good-looking man you should kiss for helping save the timeline. Do not fuck on my bed, and I don’t babysit.” He said, patting your cheek before walking away. You watched him leave and then leaned on the wall.

“Hell of an introduction, neighbor,” You said, trying to start a conversation. He didn’t respond but kept looking over your features as you did the same. Wade hit one thing on the mark: He was fine as hell. “How long have you known him?” Logan asked. “Ehhh, a couple of months, he’s good people, but he can be annoying as fuck some.” You said, that you two agreed.

It turns out that you both had something in common, besides the healing factor. Both of you were no strangers to drinks, and pain was a familiar feeling for both of you.

And that was how the foundation of the friendship was built. You didn’t talk much, mostly just passing each other in the hallway, a short greeting when you left for work and coming back home. That was until he found the bar you worked in. It was 5 minutes before closing, and you heard the man sit down. “What’ll it be buddy?” You asked, still wiping down the table with your back towards him.

“Whatever’s left.” Logan’s voice said, cutting through the faint sound of Sade’s voice coming through the jukebox. Your head snapped around at the familiar tone of the voice. “Wade mentioned you worked in a bar, been wondering which one it was,” Logan said, sitting down at the bar. “You didn’t think to look at the closest bar which is only a 15-minute walk from here?” You asked, leaning on the bar, a laugh leaving your lips.

He reached over, grabbed a bottle of beer, and shrugged, “Good point.” He said while taking a drink, a long one. “Let me guess. Roommate annoyance?” You asked, seeing him set down the bottle, and bringing him another one. “Yep. He made me leave the place today.” Logan explained. “Any reason for him kicking you out?” You joked, meeting his ever-so-serious eyes.

“He said either I try and make friends, or he walks around naked until I leave.” He said, almost making you cringe, “No one wants to see that.” Logan let out a short hum, before downing the beer before putting it down. As

You reached for the bottle your hand brushed his, and your eyes met in an awkward look. “Sorry-.” “My bad.” You both said at the same time. Logan then held your hand, moving it completely taking it off the bottle, and set it down behind the bar for you with his other hand.

“There. Less confusion.” He said, sitting back down. You nodded and looked at your still joined hands, noticing how his completely covered yours. You allowed yourself one more look before slowly sliding it out of his hands. As you finished cleaning up and locking up the bar, Logan stayed. As you walked back to the apartments, he walked beside you, in total silence, and both of you did.

That’s how it continued for almost a whopping 2 months. He’d show up for the last call, talk until closing, and walk you home in silence.

Until one night Logan walked in 1 hour earlier than his normal time. “You’re here early.” You pointed out, looking at the clock above the door. “Well, Wade mentioned something about you hating thunderstorms, thought you might want a familiar face around.” You never froze so fast in your life. “Oh? He told you that?” You asked, passing him a beer, Logan nodding in response.

“What if I told you he lied?” You asked, seeing him stop mid-drink to look at you, eyes with confusion. “I’m gonna strangle him,” Logan said. “He’d probably like it,” then you thought for a moment, “No, he’d love that.” He dropped the beer just in time for you to see a chuckle leave his lips with the taste of a smile, and your heart jumped. You already found him attractive, but that smile could’ve made an entire country swoon and sigh.

You looked away just in time for him to not catch you staring. “So, what do you do other than work?” Logan asked. “Vigilantism.” You replied, holding up another beer, switching up his empty bottle for a new cold one. “What did you do in your universe?” You asked. “Was a part of a team, had a suit and everything,” Logan explained. “Did they have abilities like you?” You asked, cleaning up some glasses while he talked. “Better. Way better than these claws in my skin.” He said, looking down at the counter harder than he should've.

You heard a little bit of how he was “the worst Wolverine” from Wade, and given how he was acting right now, he might have told the truth. “You remind me of one of them too. You don't look like her, but your mannerism reminds me of her.” Logan added. You took a chance and put a hand over his, “I won't pry, but if you ever want to talk, let me know.” He looked up at you with a greatful gaze, nodding his head and letting his hand hold yours.

You then looked at the clock and took your hand away from his “Closing time. Imma lock up real quick.” You said, wiping down the tables. As you were about to lock up, one man stumbled in. “We’re closed man. Go home.” You yelled. “One beer, sweetheart, it’s all I ask.” The random drunk asked, now grabbing onto your sleeve. “Were closed. Let go.” You said in a harsher tone. Trying to get your sleeve free.

“Come on sugar, just one drink.” He asked, eyes looking you up and down. “Dude. Let go!” You yelled, now trying to get his hand off you, but he had a strong grip on your wrist. Before he could respond Logan grabbed his arm, freeing you and walking him out. “Hey man what are you-.” Before he could finish Logan put his claws under the man’s neck. “The lady asked you 3 times to leave. I’m giving you 3 seconds to bounce before these find a home in your neck.”

The man stumbled back before slipping out the door. “You alright?” He asked, looking at your torn sleeve. “I’m alright.” You sighed, putting your jacket on. He walked next to you that night, almost arm and arm with you while you both made small talk. “I could’ve handled that asshole you know?” You asked him, bringing up the drunken man again. “I know, just wanted to do it.” He said, lighting a cigar, smirking, making you chuckle. “There she is.” He said, looking down at you. “What there? You asked, now across the street from the apartment. “That smile.” He said, still smoking the cigar.

As you opened the door to the building, you missed the faint blush on his cheeks. But you didn’t miss that look in his eyes and the way he looked over your body. But as he tried to open the door to his shared apartment, it was locked. “Are you fucking serious?” Logan said, now banging on the door. “Wade! Open the door!” he yelled.

Wade locked me out, and he’s not waking up.” He said, looking over at you. “I’ll try and call him.” You said, pulling out your phone and trying to call him, only for it to go straight to voicemail. “This son of a bitch.” you sighed, and put your phone away. You could tell what Logan was about to ask, so you beat him to it.

“I got a couch,” you said, unlocking your door. “I don't want to-.” “Logan, come over,” you interrupted, moving. so he could get in. You could tell he wanted to protest, but he knew he didn’t have a choice or another place to sleep. He gave the space a once-over and nodded. “Nice place,” Logan said.“I'm gonna take a quick shower, and I’ll be right out,” You said, he nodded in acknowledgment.

You turned on your heel, went down the hallway, and hopped in the bathroom. After 15 minutes you put on an oversized shirt and sleep short and walked to your close. You grabbed an extra pillow and top sheet for him.

“Here I got-.” Before you could finish you saw Logan with his shirt off looking you up and down. It was then you remembered you had gotten out of the shower, only wearing an oversized shirt and your shorts, that barely covered your thighs.

You saw his eyes staring at your legs, and then back up at you. His eyes were hungry with desire, and it was safe to say yours were too. His and was clenching and unclenching by his side. “Honey,” he breathed, “go to bed before I make a mistake.” You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. You moved closer, setting the blanket and pillow on the couch, your eyes never leaving his. “Please, walk away,” Logan said, licking his lips. “Why? When we both want the same thing?” You asked.

You swear you saw his breathing stop.

That was all he needed. He surged forward, claiming your lips with his. You could still taste the beer on his lips. His hand found your waist and then your thighs, lifting you, and groaned, looking up at you with a wolfish grin. Before he could say anything, you kissed him, your nails running through his hair as your tongue fought for control against his. His hands mapped out your skin, going over every contour and gripping your ass as he rolled his hips into yours.

A shiver ran through your veins, your thin shorts doing little to hide how much you wanted him, and he knew it. “Already? We’ve barely even started and you’re soaked?” He teased, one of his hands leaving your hips and dipping under the fabric. His fingers ran over your folds, his lips forming into a smirk as he sucked another mark into your neck. A soft moan left your lips as you felt two of his fingers dip into your cunt, “Oh fuck.”

“That’s it, honey, let me hear you,” Logan whispered. You let out a loud moan when his fingers hit your G-spot, your nails digging into his skin, emitting a groan from his lips. “Sorry.” You whispered, looking at him, only to see a feral smile on his lips. “You have no idea how much I loved that.” Logan groaned, his fingers working another finger in, making you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

“I wish you would.” He grunted, grabbed a handful of your braids, and pulled your head back, assaulting your neck with bites and kisses. “Logan!” You squealed, feeling his thumb find your clit. “Cum for me baby, let me hear it,” Logan whispered. Your hands made crescent marks on his back as you came undone, feeling his lips soothe you down from your climax.

You felt his fingers slowly come to a halt before Logan pulled his fingers out of you, his other hand letting go of your braids. “Still there, honey?” He asked, peppering kisses across your neck. You couldn’t even speak, your brain was still fogged from the orgasm you just went through. “Holy shit,” You breathed out. You finally cracked your eyes open, meeting Logan’s hungry eyes and seeing his fingers disappear in his mouth.

His tongue swirled around his digits, his eyes trained on yours. “Taste like heaven.” He said, licking his lips before claiming your lips in another kiss. You snapped out of the trance you were in as the taste of your juices hit your tongue.

You need him. You needed him now.

Your hand went to his pants, slipping under his jeans and finding his cock. He was rock-hard. He shuddered under your touch, a deep moan leaving his lips. Logan helped you get his jeans on the floor, his cock springing free and hitting his chest. “Goddamn. Someone’s blessed.” You whispered. “Is that someone you?” Logan asked, his hands slipping under the waistband of your underwear.

“Hold still for me baby,” he sighed and your arms framed his shoulders. You heard his claws come out and slice your bottoms off. “Someone’s done that before.” You teased, watching as his hand threw the fabric on the floor. Logan didn’t respond as he started to pick you up, but you held him firmly on the couch. “Nope, stay right there.” You breathed you, stroking his cock a few times.

He watched your hand pump him before positioning yourself above him. Logan’s eyes were trained on your pussy as you eased onto him. As you finally bottomed out, Logan let out a loud moan, and it almost made you cum on the spot. “Goddamn, you trying to kill me?” He asked, his hands going back to your hips. You didn’t respond as you started to move up and down, riding his cock.

Logan did little to stop the moans that were leaving his lips. “Fuck, honey. You’re squeezing me like a goddamn vice,” Logan sighed, letting you set the pace. You kissed his neck and sucked marks into his neck, not giving a damn that they wouldn’t be there tomorrow. As you bit one spot closer to his collarbone, he let out a whine. You focused on that spot and bounced on his cock a little faster.

He suddenly gripped your hips as a broken moan left his lips, “Fuck, wait.” He sighed, holding you still on his cock. “Why’d you make me stop?” You asked, looking at his screwed-shut eyes. Logan suddenly grabbed you and picked you up, still keeping you on his cock. “Which one is your room?” He asked. “Down the hall to the left,” You said. Logan walked down the hallway and you thanked god you left the door open.

He laid you and climbed over you, kneeling on the bed and pulling you closer, his cock moving between your thighs to rest on top of your belly button. You leaned up and rested on your forearms, and looked back down at his cock. “To answer your question from earlier,” Logan said, leaning down and tilting your chin up to look at him, “I stopped you because there’s more room on a bed than a couch.”

He looked down at you and licked his lips before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hand cupped his cheek as you returned it, your tongue finding its way into his mouth.

You were so caught up in his kisses you didn’t register the head of his cock tapping your clit until you felt it slam into you, a scream falling out of your lips. Logan laid you back in your sheets and let his hand that wasn’t holding your thigh trail in between your chest and down your stomach as he fucked you. “Keep those eyes open for me, ya hear?” He asked, you nodding in response.

He didn’t waste a second after. Logan’s cock began to thrust in and out of you, sliding almost all the way out of you to only slam back in, emitting a moan from you every time. You writhed under him, looking up at his wild and feral expression. His mouth was open, looking down at your fucked out one, moaning loudly as you held the pillow behind you.

You could hear the sound of your headboard hitting the wall, the grunts coming out of his mouth, and you didn’t give a damn if anyone heard. All you cared about was the amount of pleasure he was giving you. As he hit that one spot that cut your breath off, you bit the pillow and screwed your eyes shut.

Immediately you felt Logan stop and he grabbed your wrist with one hand and pinned it beside your head, his own hovering over yours. “I said eyes open, darling. And don’t even think of hiding those pretty fucking moans from me.” He whispered. He then dropped his hand from your thigh and put it over his.

He now used one hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, “You still here honey?” He asked, you nodded in response and opened your eyes. Logan was grinning down at you, taking in your tired face, “There’s my girl.” He softly kisses your lips before picking up his bruising pace, making you scream again, “Logan!” Your nails found their way to his back, making marks on his skin. “That’s right honey, let everyone on this goddamn floor who’s fucking you,” Logan grunted, using his free hand to hold your hip, his fingers digging into your skin.

The bed was creaking more as his thrust picked up, one of his hands starting to play with your clit. You instinctively let out a high-pitched whine and you swore he growled for a moment. “Logan, I’m gonna-, oh fuck!” You moaned, your hips bucking into his as you writhed your bed. “Yeah that’s it, let me see you come.” Logan cooed, His hand working your clit faster.

It didn’t take long for a long moan to erupt out of your mouth, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your walls squeezed him like a vice as his free thumb caressed your chin. “Now that’s a sight I need to see more of.” Logan moaned with a smile on his face. You felt his hips pick up the pace and his moans getting louder as he was on the verge of his orgasm, both of his hands now holding your legs open.

“Tell me where honey,” Logan asked, looking down at you. Your legs only pulled him closer, and that was all the confirmation he needed. A sinful whimper left his lips as he spilled into you, his eyes screwing shut. Logan held himself up and let the waves of the orgasm wear off before he moved, flopping down in your bed next to you. “Goddamn.” He sighed, catching his breath.

You nodded, looking up at the ceiling. “For a 200-plus-year-old, you fuck like you’re 30.” You said, looking over at him only to meet his gaze, “I don’t hear you complaining.” Logan teased, pulling a chuckle from you. “After the two orgasms you gave me, I’d be a goddamn fool too.” You said with a laugh. A yawn soon came from your mouth as you turned on your side, “Wore you out that much?” Logan asked, leaning over and looking down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah, and I’m, once again, not complaining,” you said, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep. That night was one of the best you ever had, followed by one of the best mornings. You awoke to the sound of someone breathing in your ear and an arm around your waist.

Logan slept in your bed last night, and you slept in his arms. As looked down, his hand was rubbing your hip through the sheets. “You’re awake?” You asked, turning around and meeting his eyes, “I’ve been up for a while.” You felt his thumb caress your cheek, a tender touch matching the emotion in his eyes. “I know this is probably a stupid to ask, given the circumstances, but would you like to grab a drink with me? Ya know, outside of work,” Logan asked.

You only leaned up and kissed his lips before pulling back and looking at him, “I’d love to.” Logan broke out into a grin that could rival the sun and returned the kiss. After a quick shower and getting dressed, you were about to make breakfast when a loud knock hit your door. “Who is it?” Logan asked, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. You couldn't stop your eyes from wandering down his chest, but you refocused, “I don't know, I didn't answer it.

The person knocked harder a second time, almost startling you. Logan walked forward and opened the door, only to find no one there. You peeped out the hallway, saw Wade’s door open, and heard music coming from it. “I think I know who it was.” You recognized the song coming from inside too: Sexual Healing. As you walked in, Wade was singing along before he saw you walk in and popped a confetti cannon.

“Congratulations!” he yelled, and Blind Al popped hers as well. “I guess Christmas came early because I know you did last night,” Wade then looked over your shoulder, and nodded, “Both of you did.” Logan was standing behind you and closed the door, only in the towel. “What the hell is all of this?” Logan asked. “A small celebration for you finally getting laid. All part of my plan last night.” Wade explained. Logan immediately walked past you, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Well come on man, I knew it was bound to happen when you took more than 15 minutes to get back, you think I locked you out by accident?” Wade grinned, and it all clicked. “You knew I would let him crash?” You asked, seeing the shit-eating grin grow on his face. “Oh I knew you would let him do more than that, sugar, besides that's what you both fucked on wasn't it?”

You and Logan shared a look, confused about how we knew. “First of all, neither of you tried to be quiet, at all, especially you Donna Summer,” Wade said, pointing at you. “Two, I could hear the headboard hitting the wall thanks to tall strong big dick vintage-rine over here,” he continued. “And three, someone with claws made a little hole in the wall, and trust me, I heard it all.”

Logan’s mouth was open while you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Wade then went to the fridge and pulled out a cake and got candles. “Happy first fuckiversary, my friends,” Wade said, putting the candle in the middle, above a gel doodle of two stick figures. One of them had boobs and was on her back with her legs in the air while the other with claws was in front of her. “Made this little doodle last night,” Wade said as he lit the candle, “go ahead, blow it, you’ll be doing a lot of that later.”

You didn't miss the wink he gave Logan as you blew out the candle. You took the cake and looked at Wade. “Thanks for the cake,” You said, hugging him, “and thanks for locking the door.” You took the cake and then left, Logan shutting the door behind him as you both went back to your apartment. “He’s never gonna let that go is he?” Logan asked, you shaking your head in response. “Nope, now go back over there and get dressed.”

He had a quick, confused look on his face. "Why?" you explained, throwing him his pants and shirt. "You made a damn hole in my wall, you're helping me fix it." "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, walking back over to his and Wade's apartment.

You never thought you would see the day you would thank Wade for bringing you a man, but I guess Marvel Jesus works in mysterious ways.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader warning(s) -> abuse, mentions of physical health, cursing, etc. words -> 3.2K

abstract -> after a messy break up, eunchae encourages the reader to adopt a hybrid. however, this hybrid comes from a dangerous past that might be dangerous for reader.

y/n's perspective

“Eunchae, I really don’t think I could take care of a hybrid” I sulked imagining her car and she sighed.

“After your breakup, you’ve been down. Hybrids can give you company, a platonic relationship.” She begged as she was now trying to convince me to get out of the car and into the hybrid facility.

“Everyone is worried for you. You’re at writer's block, that bastard broke up with you, and you’re alone. Yuta and Shotaro are especially worried about you please?” She begged and I decided to follow her.

I wandered away from her to look at the different hybrids. I missed the cute little fox hybrid I used to know.

I guess foxes are similar to cats… despite being canines.

I saw the feline hybrids… I didn’t even know how far I wandered until I saw a black tail tucked behind a bush.

Were they hiding?

I suddenly saw the black cat's ears go up and I saw it was a man. He was older than what most people go for… but he was so pretty.

“Hello?” I said in awe of the male who turned to me. I now saw his face… he was such a pretty hybrid.

He looked at me indifferently. “His name is San. He is not available for adoption” I heard as I saw behind me. “Why?” I asked and the employee looked annoyed. 

“You’re at the red code hybrids miss,” they said and I didn’t notice. “What will happen to him?” I asked and they sighed. 

“It’s being decided. San has good genes so maybe a farm but he’s far too aggressive to be considered so he might be seeing a euthanizing” they said and I felt my heart break.

How could a hybrid as pretty as he ever be considered to die?

“I heard you can get a red hybrid if you have a hybrid facilitation seal?” I said and they nodded.

I pulled out my license to approach such coded hybrids up to red. The only ones I can’t see are black-coded hybrids.

“Miss, you should know he came from the illegal hybrid fights that were caught a few weeks ago,” they said and that made me feel worse.

I could help him… but why did I want to?

“I’ll take him,” I said and they nodded. 

“I’ll get you the paperwork if you’d like to get to know each other,” they said as they were now home leaving me alone with the hybrid who looked at me confused.

“I’m y/n… they told me your name is San?” I asked as I encouraged him to get near the glass. 

He looked confused and nervous. “You’re a very pretty hybrid,” I said and he looked flustered as he looked away from me.

His pitch-black ears twitched.

“You’ll be coming home with me” I said and he scoffed. “That won’t last, '' he muttered. 

I sighed, illegal hybrid ring.

“I’ll make sure you’re safe. You’ll never have to fight anyone ever again” I said and he looked at me with widened eyes. Almost hopeful…

“Why would you want me? I’ve killed hybrids, I’m too old, I’m not the cute little cat hybrid you could have” he said it rated with me? It sounded almost like he was irritated with himself.

“I’ll dedicate myself to making you happy” 

San didn’t know how to react to what I said. As I was finishing up the documents I heard an enraged voice.

“Yah! You left me when we’re here for you!” Eunchae yelled and I nodded. “I didn’t think I could find any hybrid that interested me,” I said and she scoffed. “You need to give it… that’s a hybrid application” she said, cutting herself off in a confused voice.

“He’s really pretty, Eunchae. I didn’t know hybrids were so pretty” I said.

“You’ve worked with hybrids before,” she said and I nodded. “I don’t know… something about him pulled me in,” I said completely entranced with him.

“I’m happy you found a hybrid y/n”

Eunchae left as I was now waiting for San…. He was a panther hybrid. Exotic and really rare.

But I also was given the police file of his past for a safety measure. 

“Here he is” I heard as I saw him. They asked me if I had any clothes ready for him and I didn’t but they had some extra clothes.

He was in a simple white shirt and blue jeans.

They don’t give hybrid collars anymore. It wasn’t mandatory. Hybrids were now given collars for safety measures or dome areas in Korea to enforce the collar policy.

It wasn’t necessary though. 

I did custom order a collar, however. It was a collar quite popular for its pretty design. It was also one of the collars more expensive for its comfortable design.

I wanted to give it to him when I felt like I could without offending him.

It was controversial as I knew some hybrids didn’t like the thought of being given a collar.

I wanted to talk to him but he seemed anxious. I wanted to instead let him get used to my presence… he was a hybrid who must’ve held a lot of trauma. 

Maybe I should get an appointment with Kun…

“Oh, San we’re here,” I said as I stopped to enter the apartment complex when San didn’t notice.

“I know it looks intimidating but it’s really pretty and spacious,” I said and he nodded.

He stood close to me… almost as if he was scared to get lost.

“San?” I said and he looked at me almost nervously as he snapped out of his trance.

“Yes?” He asked and I smiled softly. “Are you okay?” I asked and he didn’t answer for a while… before nodding but I doubt he was sure of his answer.

I led him to the elevator. 

“Oh! Y/n!!”I heard as I saw Wonyoung. “You’re finally out of that apartment!!” She celebrated and I smiled meekly.

“Please tell me you’re done with the depressing break-up and grieving?” She asked and I looked down not knowing what to answer. 

“Oh? Who are you?” She asked, looking at San who hid behind me.

“This is San… Eunchae took me to get a hybrid” I said and she looked shocked. “I’m surprised you actually got one? You always said you never thought you could take care of a hybrid of your own!” She said and I chuckled awkwardly.

“Hmm. Can you look strong enough, protect her okay? And if a bastard named Hend—""Okay bye Wonnie!!” I yelled as I grabbed San’s wrist and dragged him to the open elevator.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that,” I said and he shook his head. It was only the two of us in the awkward elevator ride.

“You know her?” He asked and I smiled and nodded. “Our parents are family friends” I answered and he nodded.

“Did you get me to protect you?” He asked without looking at me.

“No… I got you… I actually didn’t want a hybrid but something about you made me adopt you. If anything while being with me you’ll live without worrying about anything ever again”

san’s perspective

Without worrying about anything again?

I didn’t want to believe that… Everyone had something to worry about. She couldn’t make that promise.

She wasn’t dressed like her friend was. Her friend was dressed in designer and looked like the typical rich kid. I was guessing she was the same… 

The elevator finally opened to a gate. She took out a card and she scanned it when it opened. 

She walked in and I followed her to what looked like a penthouse?

“I have five extra rooms, you can choose either one. Though the one closest to my room is the biggest. The others are the same size but that one has its own bathroom.” She explained as she led me to the room. 

It was huge that two, maybe even four hybrids could live here. It was a lot bigger than my kennel…

“Are you hungry?” She asked and I shook my head despite it. 

“Hmm okay. We’ll eat breakfast tomorrow then, oh do you have any favorite foods?” She asked and I shook my head. 

She looked so animated in her expressions. I could see her pity when I told her no.

“You’ll find some and we’ll stock up on them okay?” She said and I nodded.

We’ll see how long I last here… “oh! we need to get you some clothes… do you want to go tomorrow?” She asked and I didn’t… this was temporary. She wanted me for something I just needed to figure out what for.

“You don’t have to go… I can go with Wonyoung. I’ll just size your current clothes” she said and I nodded.

“I’ll let you get used to it… my room is literally down the hall. You can ask for anything” she said as she left.

“What do you want from me?”

I hate to admit that this was the best sleep I felt I’m my entire life.

The bed was so soft and warm because of the blankets and added pillows.

Maybe today I should sleep on the floor like I’m used to…

I left the room… I had to face her eventually and maybe it’ll make her take me back sooner?

“Oh! San, Good morning !!” She said so brightly. She was dressed for the day… she looked like how much money she had. 

Yesterday she wasn’t dressed like this… she is another trust fund kid.

“I’m not the best cook… but I can cook simple things!! I wanted to wait for you when you came out, but I need to go with Wonnie to shop for your clothes” she said and I nodded.

“Do you wanna stay or come with me?” she asked and I instead put my attention on the food.

I heard her chuckle softly.

“It’s okay… if you need anything, call my number with the department's phone. We should get you one soon okay?” She said as she waved at me and went inside the elevator.

I clicked my tongue… that had to be a facade.

The food she made was clearly made by her. If she can afford this place maybe she should buy a chef…

I still ate… it was actually good.

I didn’t expect her to actually make me edible food… I was alone with my thoughts when I ate all the food. 

I went to my room and slept a bit. I didn’t want to touch anything so I did the only thing I could do.

I suddenly heard the ding of the elevator and I went over to greet her cause I thought that’s what I should do but instead…

“Y/nnie!! I need help with— AHH” a guy who looked younger than her came in the elevator. 

Was this her boyfriend? 

“Dude why are— WHO ARE YOU?!” another guy appeared. “Woah… you’re a panther hybrid right ?!” I heard and I scoffed.

“No way… y/n never wanted a hybrid though” the other guy said and I scoffed.

“Uh- not that she doesn’t want you! I mean you’re here!” He tried saving it awkwardly.

“Isn’t it weird though… she never wanted a hybrid” he said and was punched by his friend.

“He can hear you!” The other one yelled. 

“What’s your name, I’m Haechan!” He said… “San” I answered and he nodded. “I’m Mark,” the other said.

There was a weird silence after. 

“You’re the hybrid behavior specialist,” Mark whispered. “I’m a receptionist,” Haechan corrected. 

“When will she be back?” Mark asked me and I shook my head. “She said she’d be back by now?” Haechan said when we heard another ding.

“Thank you!” I heard her voice enthusiastically say to the employees who held so many bags. “Wahhhh,” the two boys said.

Why were there so many bags?

“Huh? What are you two doing here?” Her friend from yesterday said. “We need help with an essay,” Mark said and she scoffed. 

“School,” she said she then looked at me with a happy expression… “You are gonna look amazing! Okay let’s see—“She grabbed my face and I had to control my discomfort

“Wonyoung! You can't manhandle him!” y/n scolded. “I’m not! I just need to see what face type he has for a haircut. He needs it and some trims for his fur…” she continued muttering.

“Did the two of you go shopping?” Haechan asked her and she nodded.

“Everything is for San,” she said and I was shocked. All of this?

I suddenly felt the other girl grab my tail causing me to growl at her.

“Wonyoung! I told you to stop” she whined. I couldn’t control it so I thought she’d scold me... not her friend?

“You need to explain a few things,” she said, now looking skeptical. “Just be careful and don’t touch him,” she said. Was she scared of me? Of course, she was…

Second day here and she might already be regretting it…

“Mark, Haechan I think I’ll have to reschedule. Wonnie thanks for helping me” she said and they nodded.

“We’re going out for lunch tomorrow. No excuses this time!” She said and y/n nodded. “Oh, can we come?” Mark asked and she laughed. “Don’t you have a case to study?”

The elevator soon went down…

“You can choose anything you like! If it doesn’t fit or you don’t like it we can always return…” I stopped listening to her voice.

What makes a trust fund kid qualified to handle a code red hybrid? “San?” She said and I looked at her and she was close. 

I could attack her… it would be easy to kill her.

“I’m tired”

y/n’s perspective

San didn't seem like he was adjusting well…

Something about his behavior seemed…agitated. I really wanted to take him to Kun but he would only get even more agitated.

I moved all the bags to a separate room. I wanted him to look through them. I don’t think he’ll want to though. So I would give him some clothes every day hoping he’ll tell me his opinion.

I did keep a specific bag. His collar.

It was a pretty black jeweled collar with black leather. I think this would offend him…

Yesterday he slept… all day and even now. I knocked on his door until he opened it. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said and he nodded.

“Try not to sleep so much okay? There’s also food in the kitchen so remember to eat” I said and he nodded.

Did he hate it here?

I went towards the elevator and I heard him close his door. The elevator stopped and Wonyoung came in.

“So… you adopted a traumatized hybrid,” she said and I knew she’d catch it easily. “Yeah…” I confessed and she sighed.

“He doesn’t like to be touched… So what else?” She asked and I sighed. “He isn’t good with other hybrids… with commands, bell-like noises, or screams,” I said and she sighed.

“How are you gonna handle a hybrid like that? Just because you have a behaviorist seal doesn’t make you a professional. You’re a writer, not Kun '' she said and I nodded.

“They were gonna kill him,” I said and her eyes widened. “Is he a red code?” She asked and you nodded.

She looked frustrated with me.

“He’s dangerous y/n!” She scolded and sighed.

“I already promised to make him happy”

After lunch with  Wonyoung, Eunchae, NingNing, and Karina I bought some food for San. I wanted him to get comfortable… but it wasn’t gonna happen in two days…

I walked in and didn’t notice anything different… I went to his room and knocked. 

He didn’t answer… maybe I shouldn’t have opened the door. To see the trashed room… claw marks and San staring at me I’m almost a feral state. 

“San?” I whimpered a little scared of the hybrid. A code red hybrid in a feral state could be lethal.

I could only do a frantic quick text to Haechan who I knew would get the message to Kun.

“Why?” He asked and I was confused. “Why adopt me? For pleasure? A trophy maybe? Your pet?” He asked and I shook my head.

“I wanted to help you” I said and he laughed at me now getting closer. “You’re scared… you offered your home to a predator” he taunted and I shook my head.

I wasn’t a professional… I was a book writer.

I accidentally tripped and I was now on the floor as he was in front of me. Leering over me in a predatory gaze.

“What do you want from me?” He asked and I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said and he scoffed.

“A trust fund kid… you don’t adopt an older and stronger hybrid for no reason. Is it because I was pretty? You wanted some fun with me? I know to your little friends a panther is something to brag about” he said and I shook my head.

He thought that?

“Just cause I lived in a cage doesn’t mean I don’t know about people like you,” he said and he grabbed my jaw. It was gentle at first and then he brought out his claws.

They stung a lot but they weren’t a big thing.

“I could kill you,” he said. “You could… but all I wanted was to offer you a better life,” I said and he scoffed. 

“You? What do you want in exchange? You weren’t offering anything for free” he scoffed and I shook my head. 

“Trust me,” I said and he suddenly gripped my jaw a little stronger making me wince in pain. He then punched the nearby bookshelf which had a glass vase.

I moved him out of the way of getting hit by a vase. Luckily it didn’t hit him… but it did hit me. I felt the fragile glass shatter all over my back.

The sudden impact made my vision go dark. 

“I’m sorry you think that way of me” 

san’s perspective

Was this girl an idiot?! I didn’t even notice that the big bookshelf had a vase on the top of it.

But why would she push me away from it? She was in danger, not me… “y/n?!” I heard someone yell out for her. It was someone I didn’t recognize… actually it was kind of familiar

Suddenly I see the appearance of a man… I didn’t recognize him. “Kun, she’s here!” he yelled as he got closer. He had a nurse's uniform… he was gonna help her. 

I didn’t interfere… he picked her up and took her away. She should be okay… it didn’t hurt her head, only her back. Suddenly another man appeared… the doctor that treated me weeks ago. 

“San…? Of course she would adopt you” he muttered clearly knowing her better to say that. “Is she gonna be okay?” I don't know why I asked… Maybe guilt? “I don't know… but you’ll be taken away from here and won’t be given the life you could have had,” he said and I laughed. 

“The life I could have had?” I scoffed out and he nodded. “She told me she adopted a traumatized hybrid. I just didn’t think she would have adopted a red code hybrid like you” he said and I didn’t know her. 

Every human uses everything around them… I would have suffered that with her. 

“Just get me away from here”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

When You're Gone

Had a bit of writer's block, so I wrote this to help! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring some of the Twisted Wonderland cast, and what they do (sometimes without realizing it) when they miss you ♡ (There will probably be a part 2, with some more characters lol ♡) Enjoy! ♡

Characters included: Riddle, Cater, Ace, Ruggie

Riddle Rosehearts

He loves to have you close, engaging in conversation as you eat or work. Even when you say nothing at all, simply enjoying each other's presence, fills him with joy. There's no one he wants near more than you, and the seat beside him is yours, forever and always.

Whether it be an unbirthday party, in the cafeteria, in the library, or even in class, the chair beside him is always reserved for you. Even when he knows you won't be there, he still saves the spot for you, acting on instinct. The words leave him automatically, not even realizing what he said until it's too late.

"This seat is taken, so find somewhere else to sit" ♡

Cater Diamond

On nights when he can't sleep, scrolling through his phone, he'll look back on old conversations. Scrolling through messages you sent, pictures he took, fond memories you both shared. It brings him more joy than you'd think, a small smile coming to his face as he eventually falls asleep, dreaming of you.

Some nights he just can't sleep, no matter how hard he tries. Scrolling through his phone doesn't help, and Magicam doesn't seem as appealing as it usually is. During these nights, he listens to any voicemails he has from you, or any videos he's taken with you, longing to hear your voice.

He contemplates calling you, but ultimately decides against it, unsure what he'd say if you answered. He'll just keep listening to your voice until sleep takes hold, the sound calming his mind ♡

Ace Trappola

Everyone knows when you're not there, listening to Ace mumble to himself, wondering where you were. He'll look around as if seeking you out, before finally asking someone, curiosity taking hold.

While he does his best not to let it show, he worries about you, especially if he hasn't seen or heard from you in a while. Did something happen? Were you ok? Or perhaps you were mad at him, choosing not to respond?

He does his best to wait, finding the text he sent earlier unanswered. Scrolling through your past messages doesn't give him a hint, and sitting around doesn't help either, leaving him feeling off the rest of the day.

He goes about his business, but the thought of you still rests in the back of his mind. When he sees you again he acts as if nothing happened, being his usual self. Yet, the relief he feels at the sight of you, at your response, causes a smirk to come to his face. One that isn't there just to be teasing or smug ♡

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie's never been picky with food, taking whatever he could get. As long as it wasn't rotten, it was good enough for him, unconcerned with flavor or texture. When given a choice though, he's drawn to dishes you would like, always considering your tastes.

He's used to sharing with others, wanting those around him to be well-fed. As you begin to grow closer, he naturally starts to pick foods you would like, even if he doesn't realize it. All with the intention of sharing it with you, should you ever be hungry.

This habit doesn't stop when you're not there, Ruggie doing it without thinking. As he eats, he imagines you there with him, enjoying the dish for yourself. He finds it makes the food taste better, picturing your face lighting up at the first bite. Maybe he'll be nice and save you some, just this once ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[elihermit]

lost in the memories

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: after the incident at work where Buck had to rescue you, you ended up in coma and relieved every moment of your relationship with Buck

word count: 2,1k

note from the writer: i’m so excited to finally share my first imagine with you! i’m taking requests 🫧

Breath in and breathe out. That’s what Buck always said when you start panicking and feel anxious. But today this panic was not over missing a deadline for your task at work, it wasn’t something you could easily fix.

You work as a psychologist who helps your patients get through the trauma of the past and find the strength to move on.

The day started as usual: morning kisses and cuddles with Buck, breakfast, I love you's, and you both went to work. But then everything is just blank, you didn't even get a chance to take your first patient or maybe you did? You can’t even remember.

You woke up at your apartment, cuddling your favorite toy, you got it when you were 9 years old and since then — it’s your lucky charm. You look at your screen to check the time ��� “8am”. Good, you have time to grab the breakfast at your favorite spot.

Brush your teeth, shower, get dressed, put on some makeup and you’re ready to go.

“Good morning, (Y/N)! Let me guess, latte with raspberry syrup and English breakfast?” — it was Alice, the waitress in your favorite spot. You go here almost every day and you truly can say that she became your friend.

“Good morning, Alice! Yes, you know I can’t start my day without you teasing me and my favorite coffee to get through this.” — you can’t help but smile, she really knows how to highlight your day.

“Of course.” — Alice smiled. “How many patients do you have today? I think I need to make you two coffees.” — she remembered when yesterday you had 5 patients and you came back to the cafe to buy one extra coffee. You loved your job, but sometimes it was too much even for your professional head. Poor people, they don’t deserve to live with all of those traumas.

“Yes please. You’re an angel!” — you gave her a grateful look and agreed on her offer.

Now you have 30 minutes to eat your breakfast and the place was so packed, you were lucky to take the table the moment you walked into the cafe.

About halfway through enjoying your breakfast and making your schedule for tomorrow, you heard someone approaching you.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry for disturbing you, but could I please sit with you? There’s no empty table and I think I will actually go nuts if I don’t eat.” — you raise your head and it was the most gorgeous man you have ever laid your eyes on. Pretty blue eyes, brown hair and the body of Greek God. Fuck, you stared too long, gotta answer quickly.

“Of course. I got you, this morning anger because of being hungry is not very cutesy.” — you laughed and pointed at the seat in front of you.

“Oh my god, yes! Thank you so much, my co-workers just got saved from my rudeness by…” — he sat down and didn’t finish his sentence so you could tell him your name.

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you. Happy to help, we don’t want to give your co-workers some traumas.” — you chuckled. God, you can’t forget about your work even when you have free time.

“That’s very true.” — he laughed. “I’m Evan, but you can call me Buck.” — the way he smiled… This image definitely won’t leave your head.

Suddenly, everything went dark. It’s like there was only one lamp that shined on your table. Buck started crying. You never heard any man cry like this. So much pain, desperation and suffering. With his head on his hands, you could see how his shoulders trembled with every cry.

He raised his head and looked into your eyes with so much sadness.

“Please, come back to me.”

Darkness. You move your finger. Why can you move ONLY your finger? What’s going on? It doesn’t feel right. You can’t see, you can’t move, you can’t speak and hear. Just darkness.

You open the door. Here he is, in all of his glory. Your partner, your love, your friend and your boyfriend in one person.

“Okay, I got every snack you like, you ready for our movie night?” — there’s a big bag of goods in front of Buck and he’s smiling like The Cheshire Cat.

You smile and pull him into the kiss. The sweetest kiss you have ever had. The best lips you have ever tasted. You already knew it would end up being Netflix & Chill.

“I missed you so much.” — you say into his lips and he gives you one more kiss before leading you to the couch.

You sat on the couch immediately getting trapped in his embrace. You didn’t mind at all. There’s no place in the world where you would rather be.

“Did you pick a movie? It’s your turn today, baby.” — you loved your tradition when at least 2-3 times a week you have movie nights. Last time you watched a movie called… You actually can’t remember, making love to each other sounded better after 15 minutes into the movie.

“Yes.” — he makes you look into his face. “Come back to me.”

Darkness. What the fuck is going on? You can feel you squeeze someone’s hand but you can’t see anything. Is that some kind of dream? More like a nightmare actually. Why are you getting pulled out of the most happiest moments of your life?

Buck. You feel so scared without him, you feel so alone. You want to scream “I’m here!”, but not a single word comes out of your mouth. That must be some kind of horrible joke.

You look into the mirror one more time and notice Buck staring at you with a smile.

“Okay, baby, first of all — you know you can stare and touch.” — you said with a smirk and Buck immediately made his way over you. He put his hands on your waist and yours gently fell on his neck. “Secondly, remind me again why we’re gathering in the middle of the week?”

You took a day off, because Buck was convincing you that no one has any other free day and only today they can all meet up together. Honestly, you loved being at Bobby’s and Athena’s house, especially when everyone was there too. Eddie with Christopher, Hen with Karen, Chim with Maddie. It’s like having a second family and you were grateful that they accepted you and loved you as much as Buck loves you.

“(Y/N), I told you it’s the only day when everyone is actually free.” — he said and kissed you. “And to be honest, I just wanted one more day off for you, you were working your ass off past weeks.”

True. For some reason you took more patients than usual and it was exhausting two weeks. Buck is always worried when you overwork yourself, so you didn’t hesitate long when he asked you to take a day off, you felt like you needed that too.

The evening was going great. Everyone is talking, laughing, dancing and eating. It was the most fun days when you all meet up together and Buck knew you loved it. So when Buck asked everyone to give him a little attention, you giggled, because usually it was the beginning of Buck doing something funny.

“Yeah, I know you all are probably expecting me to do a back flip.” — everyone laughed. “But today is a bit different. Not gonna lie, probably it was the hardest task in my life to keep everything a secret.” — you furrowed your brows, what secret?

But Buck continued.

“(Y/N), can you stand next to me, please?” — you’re confused, but you did what he asked. “My love, I know you’re confused and probably thinking that I had too many drinks. And I might be drunk, but I’m drunk in love. The moment I saw you in that cafe, I knew I couldn’t lose you. Honestly, the waitress said that there will be an empty table in 5 minutes, but I still chose to sit with you. Because how could I not?”

You started to realize. Is he… proposing? The love of your life is proposing to you?

“Buck…” — you could feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Baby, I can’t imagine my life without you and can’t even remember my life before you, that’s how well you filled all the missing pieces. So…” — Buck got on one knee, pulled a pretty little velvet box out of his pocket and asked the most important question that you didn’t even know you needed to hear. “Will you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” — you froze, tears started streaming down your cheeks. All the love you had for Buck just got 10 times stronger.

“Yes!” — you smiled happily and fell on your knees to kiss Buck.

He pulled the ring out of the box, carefully placing it on your finger and looked into your eyes.

“Then please, (Y/N)… Come back to me.”

Darkness. Honestly, you’re getting tired of this. You either died or got trapped in the most fucked up dream. And knowing that you don’t really have dreams, there’s only one option left. Are you actually dying? This can’t be real, right?

In the past 3 years your life has finally fallen into the right places. You met Buck, work was going great, you’re supposed to marry the love of your life… You cannot miss that. “Till death do us apart” doesn’t mean that you have to die so soon. You need to come back!

“My love, I know you probably don’t hear me, but I can’t do it without you.” — you heard the echo in this pitch blackness. It was Buck. “We had so much ahead of us, do you remember? We wanted to buy the house, I wanted to surprise you with the best honeymoon, we wanted to start trying on our own bab-“ — his voice broke, you heard sobs.

Your breathing has become heavier. You could feel your chest rising. Can you just open your eyes? You can’t leave Buck like this, you can’t leave your new family. You need to come back, you had so much ahead of you. Wedding, kids, travels, joy, being a wife and mother.

You heard another echo.

“Please, baby, just please come back to me…”

NOW! YOU NEED TO WAKE UP!

You could feel your eyes trembling. Darkness was replaced by white light. Heaven? There is definitely no smell of medicines in heaven.

Slowly, you open your eyes. So slow that it doesn't scare away reality.

The first image you see when you open your eyes and move your head to your right is Buck. He squeezes your hand with his head almost on the hospital bed. He’s still sobbing. It broke your heart into a million pieces. He didn’t deserve to go through this.

“Buck…” — you whisper. You can’t talk any louder, because your mouth is so dry. But he heard you.

Buck raised his head and met your eyes. You’re awake. You’re actually awake. One moment he was in hell, now he’s praising God for bringing you back.

“You came back…” — he smiled with his puffy eyes.

“How could I not? I heard you wanted me back at least four times.” — you chuckled tiredly, making jokes was your defense mechanism against difficulties.

“I thought I lost you, these 4 days were the hardest time of my entire life…” — he wanted to continue, but you interrupted him.

“4 days? W-what happened?” — you couldn’t believe it, you were out for 4 days.

“The building where you work collapsed. There was a mistake made when designing the building and it just fucking collapsed. I found you under the concrete slabs.”

Of course he was the one who rescued you. Your hero. On one hand you were happy that it’s him who saved you, but on the other he probably blames himself for not doing more, for not providing the proper safety. But let’s be honest, he did everything he could and you’re so grateful for that.

“Thank you for saving me.” — tears falling down your cheeks and you’re just happy to be back to him. To your lifeline.

He didn’t say anything, just got up and placed the most gentle kiss on your lips. Almost like he was afraid he could break you and you would vanish, that’s why you placed your hand on his cheek as a confirmation that you’re really here with him.

“So, what’s the best honeymoon you wanted to surprise me with?” — you said into his lips.

“You really heard everything?” — he asked confusedly, you giggled and kissed him once more.

Time to make more memories together.

[dilfomaniac]

❝𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙈𝙞𝙡𝙠❝

leon kennedy x fem!reader ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

ft. Death Island Leon S. Kennedy

wc: 3.409

cw: ddlg, age gap, innocence kink, p in v, riding, creampie, praise kink, rough sex

note: This was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being a rushed fic ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა writer’s block has me in a chokehold lately, ignore parts that don’t make sense !! i’ll fix those tmrw cuz 3 in the mornin… ͟mdni 18+

The silence in the room is steep, the lack of light even more than so. Wind knocks itself against the window, every tremor making you feel like its aim is to break in. Your heart is racing, your eyes wide and on the lookout for the source of your alarm. Of course, there’s none, but you haven’t really grown out of childish habits. You’ve heard stories after stories about houses being haunted, ghosts residing in each and every corner waiting to pounce on defenseless girls like you, and it’s been stuck to you ever since. Stored inside your head as a core reminder that something’s creeping in the dark.

You’re the ripe age of nineteen, there’s no particular reason for you to believe this still. Fear of the dark should’ve been abandoned when you were twelve - when the failing of classes and smothering glare of teachers vanquished the rest of the worries. At this point, it’s just laughable. Even your stuffed animals are starting to look awfully odd. You look past one shoulder, past the other, detect no strange entities and wash down the dryness in your throat. You’re curled up in a ball, snug like a puppy, hoping to fall asleep like one when something welts your window. Your head snaps towards the sound and you see something flit behind the windowpane, flashing its ominous identity to you. The child inside you screams - you’re quick to comply with it, tossing the blanket off yourself and scampering out of your bedroom like an overgrown puppy.

-

You scurry your way downstairs, hand on the railing gathering dust on your fingertips. There’s better lighting here, because Daddy’s fallen asleep with the TV on, snoring to the mumbles of another sitcom you told him about, as if he genuinely watches those. You lower the volume until it’s mute, not daring to turn the TV off because it’s the only source that illuminates the room enough - save for the crescent moon which didn’t do you much help back in your bedroom. Making your way towards the sofa you observe Leon who's sleeping like a top - head over the back of the couch, mouth tipping agape. You fail to stifle a giggle, but this is no laughing matter, mind you. He promised you, oh, he promised you so many times he’d come and join you in the bed eventually, but he didn’t. “Okay, sweetheart. You go, and I’ll be there soon, yeah? Daddy has some things to finish,” No, Daddy just wants to make an empty promise and fall asleep on the couch. He always does, likes the feel of giving you a heavy heart. Your brows crinkle with lack of guilt when you go to nudge his shoulder. Leon’s a light sleeper, so his eyes burst open like a puppet, old geezer snoring cut short.

“Baby—” His chest rises in a beat, hand clutching your wrist reflexively. He takes a moment to shake the remaining sleep off, tossing his head back and clearing his throat to waken. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

The audacity he has to say those words, when you were supposed to be asleep with him, not without him. Ghosts don’t come up to scratch when Daddy’s with you, because you know he’s stronger and that they’ll be put off by his mere presence. “You didn’t go to bed. You lied to me,” the accusation comes down as you sink your nails into his forearm, small flecks of red imprinting onto his skin. “You promised me.”

“Yeah. Yeah— Daddy knows,” His brows furrow. Your antics extort a rumbly groan from his throat, but it isn’t until he glares at you that you let go of him sheepishly. It’s just that you can’t help it while you’re like this. Leon is your only safe zone, but he’s so old he can’t even control when he sleeps. “Well, I thought you’d be a big girl and be asleep by the time I’m back. Guess not, huh?” He chuckles silvery and before you see it he’s propping you over his leg, letting you sit pliantly like a puppet with your knees dipping in the gaps, entwining in his legs. You’re not easy to play like one, though - you opt to stay your ground by smacking him on the cheek to which he balefully clutches your wrist. “Don’t go throwin’ hands now.”

“You’re an A-hole.” You say bluntly. He blinks at you as if trying to say how insufferable you are in morse code. “Something— something was behind the window. I think it wanted to break in, and you weren’t here.” You say more like a protest than a distressed denunciation. Leon’s hands come to cradle you, from your back all the way to your scalp, holding you to himself like a baby who can’t support its head yet. He shakes his head, tongue in cheek, so sick of being woken up in the middle of the night because of things so mediocre, but all the more understanding of you. Because you’re his baby. His ray of sunshine. A pretty little thing who makes his day-to-day routines somewhat more endurable. “What, you scared of ghosts now?”

“I’m not!” You say crossly, God forbid your fragile little ego is hurt. “I’m not scared of ‘em, okay? I’m just saying, if someone were to break in, and you weren’t there, it’d be your fault.” It’d also be his fault if you had a nightmare and had no one to lull you back to sleep. Things like this aren’t easily forgivable, you want to tell him, but he already knows.

Leon takes in the scent of your hair balm, fingers threading aimlessly through your hair. You can tell he’s not as worried as you are, but maybe that’s because he knows better and you’ll never know as much even if you conjoined the three remaining brain cells in your head. “Well, I promise you sweetheart, no scary monster s’gonna take you while I’m here,” then he bounces you on his knee and you feel your senses liquify. “You know you’re safe with me, yeah? You aren’t a dumb girl, are you?”

You shake your head, peeking at him between your lashes. You are a dumb girl but don’t entirely want to be one. It’s funny to see how all your worries dissipate once the honeyed lilt sinks in, putting you into an entirely different mental state. “I was scared,” you murmur. Leon only hushes you, bobbing his knee like consoling a toddler.

“I know, baby. I don’t blame you for it.” His stubble scrapes your cheek and then you’re dipping your face lower, nose brushing over a bared clavicle. Leon smells so good, so falsely evocative and citrusy and paternal. Like a daddy you’ve never had but always wanted, and it has you addicted. “Guess I have to make it up to you then, huh?” He stops to look you in the eye, his glare piercing and yet soothing all at once. It’s like he’s trying to read you by your expression alone, find out what goes on in that little head of yours that can’t fit more than maybe a few social interactions per day.

You clutch the hem of his shirt and give him all the puppy eyes you’ve got, tilt your head and play dumb like he equally appreciates. “Uhm, yeah?” He cups your cheeks instantaneously, plants a slew of sloppy kisses across your forehead because cute aggression is real, and he’s more than likely to eat you up if your cheeks don’t deflate. “You owe me big time, idiot,” you pout, “ ‘Cause you never listen to me.”

You’re met with an eye roll and then Leon’s flipping you over so your positions are swapped, you now spread over the couch and him hovering above you. He holds both your hands in one hefty palm and pins them over your sternum, pushes down like he’s trying to submerge you into the cushions. You peep and fend off, even in your sleepy state because you know what comes after he’s fully overpowered you. You’ll scream bloody murder if he starts tickling you. However, to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he shores you up on the couch and slumps beside you with a soft grunt. “Think we can reserve playtime for tomorrow?” He says. After getting you riled up? No, but, matter-of-factly, it’s way past your bedtime. You bat your lashes solemnly, cast your gaze elsewhere. When you think about it, there will be no playtime, really. Because Leon’s always off on business trips - always on the go to fill his devoir while you’re at home rotting away in pink comforters and stroking yourself to sleep. It’s unfair - so, so unfair, how he makes you wait like a puppy, because you’re so entirely co-dependent on him. You fold your arms and clamber to the opposite side of the couch, avert your face to hide the crimson scattering your cheeks. Leon knows this change of air by rote, knows that his pretty princess is upset, and he knows by heart what your doleful puppy eyes look like, even if you try to hide them from him.

“I’m just kiddin’. I had something else in mind, actually,” he coos at you, one hand planting itself on your thigh and parting it from the other. “Daddy would never lie to you, yeah baby?” The wetness across your neck takes you by surprise when Leon seals the gap between you, making you want to shrug off.

“Tickles,” you mew, raising your hand to his face which he swiftly takes hold of and sets down. You don’t object, ‘cause while you may be bratty, Daddy’s wants will never go over your head. Heat uncoils inside your lower stomach and you start rubbing your thighs with need, stealing glances from Leon who’s nipping you with such fervor, you start doubting whether this takes less energy than your regular playtime.

“Thought you’d get away so easily, huh? Not a chance, baby. You know me.” The metal clink of the belt has you transfixed when you’ve just started squirming, as you sit stockstill beside Leon. He looks at you with a grin - you sit there with panties soaked from one-sided kissing alone. There’s that tent on his lap, like he gets in the mornings. You try to wet your lips but clamp your tongue when he sucks a hickey onto a velvety patch of skin, tugging his briefs down until the forbidden part springs up and whacks him on the gut. Seeing it makes you shudder, snap your head away so fast as if a bare look will contaminate your innocence.

“Yeah, bunny? That so? Don’t like Mr. Horsey?” He exhales with a sneer - you try not to hyperventilate because of the amount of blood that gushes to your face then. You steal one small peek and turn away again, closing your eyes as if the thing will disappear on its own, making Leon chuckle heartily. “Well, I think Mr. Horsey likes you.”

You’re sure neither you nor Leon imagined your lives would ever lead to this moment. Leon for an entirely different reason, but you due the fact that you’ve been turned down by every partner who failed to break down the nature of this play. You never realized how much it meant to you, though, to be purely virgin. “Um,” you teeter more to the edge, eyes darting to all corners of the room, “I like him too— I don’t know.”

He takes it for granted, moving closer until you feel his breath waver. The glow of the TV strains your eyes, casting a fluorescent light that disguises your blush. Leon sets your hand on his crotch, hums contentedly when your palm lays smoothly on his shaft and your fingers grip. “Yeah,” he says. “He likes it when you play with him, baby.” His hand comes to rest on his side and he lets you take the lead, leaning back and exhaling in a way that screams he’s pent, and you better get stroking.

You palm him to the best effort, watching closely to see if what you’re doing with your hand is good enough. All the jerking off you’d done before was winged, and you never really put your mind to it. Leon gave you a chance to learn to actually please a man, and you can never wait to suck up all the praise you can. “Like this?” Your voice squeaks - you suck the inside of your cheek meekly. Leon nods and lets his eyes fall shut when your hand delivers the wet squelches, pre slicking up the entirety of your palm and leaking through your nimble fingers. There’s the faintest bucking of hips and you see him tense before coming to a halt, restraining himself. You’re so wet it hurts. You need him bucking into you instead, and not holding back.

Leon’s cock oozes generously upon your ministrations, and before you know it you’re moving on top to straddle him. Real cowgirl in the making - so excited to have her first ride. He croaks dizziedly, hands hooking behind your knees and helping you up on his lap. You think back to how the Redfields see you two, what they don’t know about you. Maybe the fact that Leon has a college kid for a lapdog isn’t the worst thing that's been happening around here. Maybe that he breeds it on a daily without a pinch of guilt is a fair enough transgression. The waistband of your mini is yanked down when Leon hikes you up on his knee, forcing you to shimmy out of it. He feels up the plush of your pussy, prods through your dampened panties like that doesn’t make you all the more desperate. You’re drooling, practically. If Leon didn’t know any better, he’d stick his fingers down your greedy cunt, but you’ve got to work for it first.

“Come on, baby. Rub yourself on Daddy,” he pulls your panties aside, and you’re so quick to listen. You sink down, hands perched on your ankles until your slippery folds engulf his tip. You’re making quite the mess - to that he toots but otherwise leans back to observe how you’re willing to get started. You buck your hips back and forth, run your nub over his slit repeatedly and whimper like a bitch in heat. When you slide too close to your hole, he slaps your tit, cups your cheeks in one large palm like a warning. This is the root of this whole ordeal - him fucking you to a pulp, turning you into a full crazed nymphomaniac and then leaving like nothing happened. It’s not fair, not fair at all - and the worst part is he’s sure to serve you justice using the same treatment. Fucking you so hard you forget you ever doubted him in the first place.

“Just like that. Good girl,” he murmurs, speaking to you like you’re mentally deficient - which you are. You test your luck by squeezing yourself down, attempting to take him in a little, but Leon’s cock springs like a twig, flaps over you with a wet squelch. You whine.

You grumble like it’s his fault you failed so miserably. He shakes his head, “You know I spoil you too much,” and with that, Leon jams himself inside until he’s breaching you to the brim. You were wrong for being so hasty - he’ll give you a bitter taste.

Startled, you drape your head over his shoulder and sink your nails into his back. You could feel the jab to your cervix, and while that wasn’t particularly good, the feeling of Leon seating you to the hilt sent you straight to heaven. You haven’t had him since so long - you swore at times you clenched on nothing. Leon fills you so good, God, he fills you better than anyone has ever had, and it drives you mad when he doesn’t. You sit bandy-legged when his arms lock around your shoulders, bringing you up so he can slump you back on his cock. Horsey, right? Chris and Claire wouldn’t see either of you in the same light if they knew.

“You might be the dirtiest girl, yeah baby?” He groans, and the tone alone is enough to have you gripping. You shake your head, dirty isn’t exactly your most-liked title. “No?” Leon thrusts deep and you jump up with him, hugging him tight for comfort.

“No! ‘m not—” He rocks you on him, does all the work cause you’re a princess even on top. So spoiled, and yet he’s to blame. Maybe you’ll change one day, but so far he hasn’t had the guts to work you for that outcome. “But you woke Daddy up so you could have his cock up that drooly pussy, didn’t you?” he says and the words jab straight into that spot. Leon groans and then you’re moving on your own, sheathing yourself on him over and over until a ring of cream gathers around the base of his cock. Now you get it. Now it’s horsey.

“Sorry, Daddy. I missed you so much— sorry,” you recite like a plea, stumbling over your words until it’s just unintelligible moans, because Leon’s cock pounds you so good. You lick the sweat off his temple, watch his brows furrow when his hands grip your hips and squeeze impossibly tight, lips catching over yours when your movements grow shaky.

“Sorry— I’m sorry, sorry— Daddy—” Leon shushes you when he begins to thrust in tandem with your wobbly hops, thrusting to a depth you thought was impossible to reach before. You whine and soon he’s lifting your body, holding you up as he drives relentlessly into your cunt, hitting all the spots. Daddy fucks you so good. Daddy pampers you so much. Daddy loves you to the moon and back, and he’s going to give you warm milk to put you to sleep.

“Fuck, baby— You’re a natural. Rode the horsey so good, now it’s Daddy’s turn—” your heart sinks into your throat when you’re thrown over the coffee table, the surrounding items toppling over with a row of clattering and Leon being able to dig deeper into you. You throw your legs over his shoulders, hearing the table creak when he drives into you once more. Fuck. God. The pressure inside you amplifies and then you’re struck by unadulterated bliss, the familiar warmth coating your inner walls as Leon grinds against your cervix. His hair is wet and he heaves like a dog, hands still holding you tightly against the table which you fear might collapse any minute now. You shiver - he gives your side a good smack and pulls out of you with a lewd plop, all what he planted inside you oozing out in thick dollops. Not on his watch, though, ‘cause he pushes it back placidly, panting.

“Good enough for today, princess,” he says but you’re already out of it, lashes fluttering as you try to grasp your consciousness. Leon knocked all the breath out of you, you’ve expired. You hum, feeling your walls pulse and chest swell in a slow-paced rhythm. It’s like that one time you convinced him you’d be able to handle an all-nighter but fell asleep one hour past midnight. Well, you set yourself a record, because it’s just one hour later which is impressive for a little girl like you.

He’ll have to change you into something more comfortable. A miniskirt and knee highs on a winter day? What, were you trying to whore yourself out to the Ghosts? He gets it, you were just asking for it, just wanted to stick your cute ass to get his attention, but sometimes you’re genuinely stupid. His stupid girl. Drunk off Daddy’s milk - he’ll bear that in mind. Sliding his hands under your frail body, he makes the dire mistake of trying to lift you when the coffee table caves in and snatches you with it. Auntie Jill called Daddy a ‘fucking cheapskate’ once when she was over - now you get what she meant.

[puppym3]

farmer!reader x writer!hyunjin who is her secret admirer and he sent her letters? the farmer is new to the town, getting away from the cities and hyunjin is the last person she met after everyone in town since he's always in his cabin near the beach

kind of like the game, stardew valley!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ dear farmer,

wc: 4.4k

warnings: fluffy cuteness, confessions, literally not much to warn you on this is just rly cute, mailman chan, fisher jisung, farmer reader, author/writer hyunjin, hyunjin refers to reader as his muse, (LMK IF I MISSED ANY!)

a/n: THIS IS TOO CUTE OH MY GOODNESS GOODNIGHT. i was literally gushing writing this i hope i wrote it the way you were imagining. i love stardew valley so tysm for suggesting this!!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The small village you moved into was a far cry from the bustling city life you once knew. The quaint charm of the town, with its winding cobblestone streets and picturesque cottages, had drawn you in immediately. Seeking a fresh start and a simpler life, you had purchased an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, eager to put down roots and cultivate your own land.

The townspeople had been incredibly welcoming, each of them eager to meet you. You quickly found yourself immersed in the community, sharing smiles and stories at the local market and lending a hand wherever you could. Despite the warm reception, there was one resident you had yet to meet.

You had heard whispers about him from the other villagers—an enigmatic writer who rarely left his cabin by the beach. The townsfolk spoke of his talent with a mix of admiration and curiosity, but none seemed to know much about him personally. It wasn't for lack of trying—the local mail carrier, Chan, had admitted defeat after only one attempt to reach out, grumbling something about a ferret with a temper.

A part of you had always wondered what his writing was like, and what kind of man would choose such isolation. Perhaps he was shy, or simply enjoyed being left to his own devices. There had to be a reason why the villagers hadn't tried to reach out to him again, and yet—

"Hyunjin isn't one for conversing," Chan insisted, taking the bundle of envelopes from his bag and sliding them into the mailbox outside your farmhouse. "You don't have to worry about him."

You glanced toward the direction of the beach, watching the sun dip down over the waves. Why did his isolation make him more interesting to you? You supposed you should be grateful for his lack of interaction; with the busy work on the farm and the number of people you already tried to help each day, you didn't have time for many social gatherings. Still...

"Well," you sighed, dusting off your hands and returning the empty milk bottles to the box on your porch, "thank you, Chan."

The mailman smiled, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners. "Any time."

Heading toward the field, you squared your shoulders, determined to focus on the day's tasks and push any thoughts of the mysterious writer aside. You still had some planting to do, after all, and a long walk ahead of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days later, you woke with a yawn, stretching your limbs in your bed. Sunlight poured in through the windows, illuminating the small room. The warmth was pleasant, a sharp contrast from the chilled breeze outside. You couldn't help but smile, thankful that winter had yet to roll around. The transition to farming was a busy one, and the prospect of facing your first snowfall was more than a little intimidating.

Rising from the mattress, you threw on an old, oversized sweater, not bothering to change into your work clothes before making a quick cup of tea in your kitchen. It was an easy routine to settle into, the steamy brew doing wonders for your motivation in the mornings. Once your mug was half empty, you changed into a pair of old, paint-stained overalls and made your way outside.

"You have mail today." Chan greeted you with a warm smile, already standing in front of your mailbox. "I wasn't sure if I'd catch you or not. It's nice to see you awake so early."

"Yeah, yeah." You grinned, nudging him in the arm playfully. "What's the big delivery?"

"Just the usual." Chan shrugged, sliding a few envelopes from his bag and setting them down in the mailbox. "Some advertisements and invitations to parties."

You paused, peeking inside. It looked like the usual bundle of mail—some from fellow townspeople and some from local companies looking to get your attention. You hummed in thought, glancing over the usual assortment before a handwritten letter caught your attention.

It was written in simple script, the envelope adorned with a tiny blueberry stamp in the corner. It stood out against the other, more formal pieces of mail. The sight made you pause.

"Oh," you said, your curiosity piqued. "This one looks different."

"Huh?" Chan followed your line of sight, his eyes widening when he spotted the letter. "That's... oh. Oh."

You blinked. "What? Do you know who sent it?"

Chan fiddled with the strap of his bag. "I recognize that writing," he muttered, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Really?" You said, curiosity piqued.

He paused, glancing around your front porch. "You know, I'm a bit busy today. I should head off," he stuttered, already backing away. "Goodbye."

Before you could question his reaction any further, the mailman was already hurrying away down the path to the next house.

Furrowing your brow, you took a step back. Had you said something wrong? Maybe it wasn't a big deal; you could always ask Chan about it later, anyway. In the meantime, you were eager to see what the letter held.

The moment you picked the letter up, your senses were overwhelmed with a comforting, earthy scent. You recognized it immediately. It smelled of the ground after a spring shower, or of the rich dirt after a hard day's work in the fields. You breathed it in, the smell quickly becoming your favorite. You had always associated the earth with a sense of peace, and this scent was no exception.

Smiling softly to yourself, you broke the seal with ease, unfolding the crisp parchment paper to reveal the same script. You were surprised by the neat handwriting; each letter was carefully drawn out, the author's focus clearly evident in their penmanship. You began to read, your smile growing as you devoured the contents of the letter.

To the farmer,

You know, I've always thought the sun is kind of funny. The sun rises and sets, and then rises and sets again. Sometimes the sky is blue, and other days it is white. But in every sunrise, there is one thing that stays the same. It's you. You always rise with the sun. I used to wake up when it was light outside, but these days I've started to wake up earlier. It's a good way to start the day. I know the sun is your companion in the mornings.

Your admirer,

H.

You stared down at the words, the heat of a blush rising up your cheeks. How sweet, you thought to yourself, holding the letter a bit closer. You had to admit that it was nice to read—to know that someone in town noticed the time of day you woke up and, what's more, noticed how much you liked to work under the early sunlight. You hadn't thought about the author much before, but now, you were eager to meet them.

Before you could think it over, you folded the letter with care, sliding it into the pocket of your overalls. You glanced up toward the sun, letting it wash over your face for a moment before heading to work. The sun was your companion, after all. You may as well take advantage of its light.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next few weeks, the letters continued. Each day, Chan would deliver one to your doorstep. It became part of the routine, and you quickly grew accustomed to the extra attention. Every time you spotted the blueberry seal on your front doorstep, your heart leapt with joy, eager to see the new message written within.

Sometimes the letters were short; other times they were long. Occasionally, the author would ramble, describing a favorite memory from their childhood or sharing a silly joke. You read each word carefully, often smiling or chuckling as you read, already eager for the next message. The more letters you read, the more you wanted to learn about this mystery person.

A part of you wondered who this author might be. The only clues were the scent of earth on the pages and a few hand-drawn images. You had been able to rule out Chan; it would be near impossible for him to write a letter each day and still be on time to the next house. That left you with little knowledge of the writer's identity, though you hoped that the writer might eventually share their identity.

Today, a soft rainfall pattered down over your fields. You sighed to yourself as you entered the house, wiping the mud from your boots before sliding them off on the mat in front of your door. Another busy day in the fields was over. Tomorrow was a new day, one where you would finally plant a new patch of carrots. The prospect of the harvest kept you motivated as you reached for the envelope, eagerly tearing it open with a smile.

As you read the letter, your smile slowly faded. A hint of fear and excitement coursed through your veins, leaving you a little shaken as you absorbed each word.

To the farmer,

It's getting colder here. Soon, I'll have to wear a scarf every day, even indoors. I wish I had the courage to share more of myself with you. Maybe if we ever met in person, I wouldn't be so nervous. I can't wait until I'm brave enough to tell you more about me.

Your admirer,

H.

P.S. I hope the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You always end up rising, and I trust your routine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The letters started to come with less often. Sometimes you would receive one per day. Other times, you might get one a few days apart, with only one letter on the weekends. You hated to admit that it left you feeling a bit sad, your mood growing darker as time passed.

"Oh, Chan." You tried not to sound disappointed when you spotted the mailman walking up your path one morning, a few letters in hand. "Any letters from H?"

"Hmm, I don't think so." He shrugged, sliding a few letters into your mailbox. "Let me see. Oh! There is one."

He handed you a new letter, a faint smile on his lips. You quickly broke the seal, not bothering to glance over the others as you eagerly opened the newest one. Your eyes widened at the words you saw before you.

My dearest,

I'm sorry that my letters haven't come as often lately. There was a big change at the publishing house I'm working for. I didn't tell you about that before. I've been trying to keep my letters shorter since I have less free time now, but I always find myself wanting to write more to you. I guess I can't help myself.

I'll keep writing letters if you keep reading.

Yours,

H.

P.S. Thank you for working hard every day. It helps to see that the world still spins, no matter what's happening in it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Have you ever thought about trying to meet H?"

The question made you pause. You were out by the docks, fishing with Jisung. The young man was your favorite fishing buddy, often sitting on the end of the dock in silence with a small smile. You both had been there for an hour, but this was the first time he'd spoken today. You blinked at him in confusion before setting your fishing rod aside, a curious look on your face.

"What do you mean?"

Jisung smiled. "It's obvious you enjoy their letters," he pointed out, reeling in another fish from his line. "Maybe you could meet them?"

You stared down at your reflection on the water, chewing the inside of your cheek. The truth was that you hadn't considered the idea, mainly because you couldn't decide if it was a good one. It wasn't like the writer had never suggested the idea—it was the whole purpose behind their first few letters, but something about that made you hesitate.

It was as if you were waiting for H to come to you when they were ready, and vice versa. It was a little scary, to be honest. The thought of finally meeting the person you'd been so connected to these last few weeks made you a bit nervous, to say the least.

"I guess I should." You nodded, casting your line again.

"Well, I'd like to meet them too," Jisung said, glancing toward you. "To approve."

You smiled at that, rolling your eyes playfully. "What's not to like? They write beautiful letters and draw nice little pictures," you laughed, watching the bait at the end of your hook. "Maybe I should meet them."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night, you made your decision.

"Chan! You have a moment?" You waved the mailman down the next day as he passed your house on the trail, a few envelopes in his arms.

He looked over in surprise, smiling as he hurried down the path. "Good morning," he greeted you. "How's the farm?"

You smiled back at him. "Great, hey, you seemed to know a little bit about H that you aren't telling me." You said, getting straight to the point. "Do you know anything more?"

The mailman frowned for a moment, before sighing. "Well, you should go to the beach." He said, gesturing to the coastline, visible over your house. "Hy—I mean, H, they live near there."

You blinked, looking to where the mailman was pointing. "They live near the beach?"

"Yeah."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had to be the grumpy writer who lived alone that you hadn't met yet. That was your only option, right? He had to be H. Who else could it be? You sighed to yourself, gathering your things in a bag and setting off in the direction of the beach.

It was a bit of a hike, the ocean path curving and twisting to take you along a scenic route. You didn't mind the walk, though, pausing often to take in the scenery. By the time you arrived at the beach, you felt a little calmer. The beach was deserted; though that didn't surprise you. It wasn't too warm today. The air was cool and refreshing, with a few clouds rolling by overhead. It was the perfect day for a walk on the sand.

You scanned the coastline for any signs of a cabin, spotting one in the distance. It was nestled between the cliffs, overlooking a small patch of beach. It seemed a bit hidden, the sight making you smile to yourself.

The author had to be a loner, just like you were.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the cabin. As you came closer, you noticed a small, stone path that led to a patio on the beach. You spotted a wooden swing, rocking slightly in the breeze. A person sat on the seat, their head ducked in a book as they sat under a shady umbrella.

As you drew closer, you saw the mysterious person, his dark hair was a little messier than usual, with a few strands falling in front of his face. He seemed lost in the book in his hands. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused as he sat, oblivious to his surroundings. The sight made you smile, a sudden feeling of affection coming over you as you approached.

You recognized that messy hair and those dark, mysterious eyes.

It was Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin who lived alone near the beach. Hyunjin, the man you had only heard a few stories about from Chan and Felix, but he looked even better than you had imagined.

"Oh!" The man looked up and saw you approaching him. His eyes widened for a second before he cleared his throat, turning to face you with a hint of panic in his expression.

You paused at his reaction, stopping in your tracks. You suddenly felt very silly, not even considering that Hyunjin might not actually want you to visit him. You tried not to frown as you considered the possibilities. Had Hyunjin forgotten about your correspondence? Had you been a mistake? Was this a terrible idea?

"H-Hyunjin!" You stammered, cursing yourself for not planning this a bit better. You could already feel yourself start to sweat. "I'm the farmer, it's nice to finally meet you."

You held your hand out to Hyunjin, who eyed you up for a moment, his expression unreadable. You swallowed thickly, preparing to turn back around and run away—

"The farmer." The words sounded breathless. Hyunjin slowly placed his hand in yours. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes were trained on your face. His cheeks looked a little red as he held your hand in his own. It felt warm and a bit calloused, a clear sign that he was a writer. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

You felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter as you watched him, trying not to let the emotion show on your face. This was H. It was Hyunjin who wrote such beautiful letters to you and sent you drawings in the post. Hyunjin was your author, the person you'd connected so easily to through ink and paper, and he was so beautiful.

"It's nice to put a name to a face." You murmured, letting your eyes wander over Hyunjin. "You're just how I imagined."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," You sat next to Hyunjin on his porch, staring up at the sky above you. It was beginning to grow darker, the evening sky giving way to a more vibrant sunset. "How'd you get so good at writing letters?"

Hyunjin smiled a little to himself. He leaned back against his hands, his long legs stretched out on the floor. "I've always loved writing," he confessed. "But it was different before, when I was younger."

"Different how?" You asked, looking over at him curiously.

He let his eyes close. "Before I left the city, I worked at the publishing house." He explained. "I always wrote stories there, but they weren't really... mine."

You blinked, watching the way his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks. "They were stories that people hired us to write," he said quietly. "But I liked doing it. I felt like I was doing something special with the words, even if they weren't my words. I wrote all day and got paid for it. But there was always this... nagging voice in the back of my mind, wondering if it was good enough."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "It sounds like it was a good job," you whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment. "Why did you leave it behind?"

The author chuckled. "I got sick of it." He sighed, opening his eyes and looking up to the sky. "It felt so empty. I wasn't making my own decisions. I wasn't getting paid because the stories were mine."

You swallowed. "But here?" You gestured toward the beach, your heart swelling in your chest. "You can write about whatever you want?"

Hyunjin looked to you and smiled softly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the days turned to weeks and then to months, the two of you fell into an easy routine. You visited Hyunjin every morning, bringing breakfast along with you, and Hyunjin always made sure to leave you a letter by your front door in return. Sometimes he would be waiting outside his cabin when you came, eager to talk about a new plot point that he came up with the night before. Other times, he would be asleep by the time you got to him, only stirring from his slumber when he heard you set breakfast out on his porch.

And he wrote to you every day, leaving letters on your front doorstep, each one signed off with a different nickname. Some days, the nickname was short, others, it was longer. But he always ended the letter with a promise of a new chapter, just as he had with the first one, so long ago.

On your fifth visit, this time you brought him a letter. He was surprised to see you hand it to him. He blinked down at the envelope in his hands, running a thumb over the words on the paper.

You were nervous, you were nowhere near as good as him, but you assumed that speaking in his language would gauge his appeal.

To my writer,

You are more talented than you give yourself credit for.

Thank you for always writing so beautifully,

Your admirer,

The farmer

"I wanted to send you a letter today." You whispered as his eyes scanned over the letter.

Hyunjin looked up from the page. His expression softened as he set the letter down. He held out his arms in invitation, his lips curving upwards as he stared back at you. You didn't need him to repeat himself, throwing yourself into his arms without hesitation. You leaned your head against his chest and listened to his heart beat. The sound made your heart race. It was as if Hyunjin's heartbeat had become a part of you. You could hear the rhythm and knew it was a part of you as well, just as much as it was him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the course of your visits, it was inevitable that your relationship evolved into something deeper. It began with subtle touches—a brush of your hands against each other as you sat together on the porch or the feeling of Hyunjin's gaze on your face as you read a story he wrote. As you began to notice his attention to detail, the way he was able to capture emotions with words you didn't know how to express, you realized how much he had given you.

You had never considered yourself an introvert, but something about being around him made you feel at ease. The thought made you blush. There was a strange warmth that settled in the pit of your stomach whenever you were around him. You began to crave it, yearning to feel it whenever you could, whether you were spending time together on the beach, walking the trails along the coastline, or simply sitting on his porch swing, talking about nothing at all.

And slowly, that warmth grew into something more. The more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be close to him. It started with soft smiles and light touches, followed by gentle touches and lingering glances. It began as something innocent, but the longer you were with him, the stronger it got. You were becoming addicted to it, longing for the next chance you would get to see him, to touch him and feel that rush of electricity course through your veins.

You found yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning to watch the sunrise. You began to count the seconds until the mail came. You went to bed late every night, staying awake until your eyes hurt to stare.

Your visits grew longer, your conversations becoming deeper.

Hyunjin became your new favorite distraction.

"It's a book." He had whispered as you both lay on the beach, his gaze trained on the stars above you. "I'm writing a book, I think."

"You think?"

He had nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips as he spoke. "Yes, and I've started to wonder..." he had paused then, looking to you as his cheeks turned pink. "That you're my inspiration."

You felt your breath hitch at the admission, a blush creeping up your neck to stain your cheeks. "What do you mean?"

He had sat up and looked at you with those deep, dark eyes.

"You're the one that I'm writing this book for. It's yours, my feelings, my thoughts, everything in it is for you." He said, reaching up to cup your cheeks. "I think about you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I go for my walks," he had smiled shyly. "You're the only person that's on my mind and it feels so good to feel that way about something again."

The warmth that spread through your veins made you dizzy, but you found yourself smiling, a small sigh escaping your lips.

You wanted nothing more than to be Hyunjin's inspiration forever.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And soon the book was complete.

It was the last page in Hyunjin's journal that had been filled with his scrawled words and thoughts. It had taken him months, but he finished it, his heart and soul on each page.

Hyunjin read it to you as you sat on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket as the wind blew off the sea. He sat with you and held the book in his hands, turning the pages as he spoke. His voice was soft and melodic as he told his story. The words came easily to him, the sentences flowing smoothly together. He paused often to look up at you, his eyes searching yours. His voice grew quieter with each word, until finally, he was whispering the last page.

You felt the tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall as he closed the book and set it aside. The silence that followed felt heavy, your mind still processing what he had just told you.

The book was a confession to you, a way for Hyunjin to express all of the feelings he had been struggling to express for the past few months. He told you that you were his muse, his reason to wake up each morning. You were the person who made him feel whole, complete, and it was all he wanted in life to be by your side, to feel this way for as long as he lived.

The book was about the two of you. He wrote it all, the letters he sent and the drawings he drew, just for you, to tell you how much he loved you.

Your tears spilled over, a few trickling down your cheeks as you sniffed quietly, a smile spreading across your lips as you stared up at him. He watched you closely, waiting for your response. With a shaky breath, you closed the distance between you and Hyunjin, leaning in. His eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching as he realized what was about to happen. Your lips met his in a tender, hesitant kiss, pouring all your gratitude, relief, and affection into that single moment.

Hyunjin made a quiet noise, almost like a gasp, but he quickly responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle yet fervent intensity. His hands found their way to your cheeks, cupping them delicately as if you were something precious and fragile. He deepened the kiss, and you felt a wave of warmth and security wash over you.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of you stayed there, lost in the moment. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, his hands cradling your face, and the steady rhythm of your racing hearts. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, all lost in that moment.

And there was something that you had never mentioned to anyone before, something you were embarrassed to admit, something you had been keeping hidden deep within your heart.

You loved the author who lived by the sea.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[at0michips]

interviews and intimacy — mike faist

summary: the press tour of challengers was coming to an end, and even though Mike liked promoting his new movie all around the world, he was tired and even annoyed of the same old questions, so it did surprise him when a younger woman changed the pattern.

author note: just wanted to say that this is based off my deepest thoughts and hallucinations that this is going to happen to me someday and I just really needed to elaborate it further than in my brain. I have a lot more like this to work on so maybe it becomes a sort of series, who knows!! feel free to request

It was a full day, Mike has been patient and tried to be as social as possible with the press but he couldn't help the bad mood that came with those clueless questions that could totally put him and his coworkers in an uncomfortable situation, especially with both of them openly having a significant other. So when he heard that this would be the last interview of the press he felt relieved, he could go straight back into his house in New York, spend some days in there and go back to Ohio so he could see his family for a bit and then see what was his next step.

Everything seemed like it was going to work out nicely, and then it didn't looked like it anymore. After the new interview crew arrived he could hear some whispering between them.

"W-why does it have to be me?" one of the girls said a little loud only to be shushed by an older woman who was attaching a mic in her clothing

"Because you have a degree, because you have been helping Rose write the last interviews questions, because you're good!" she answered "Calm down, they're just people, ok? I spoke to her on the phone and she promised to pay you dinner next friday, keep that in mind." and then it hit him, that a girl who looked barely out of college was about to lead this interview.

The studio buzzed with the controlled chaos of a film set winding down for the day. Mike Faist sat across from you, a young journalist who had been unexpectedly thrust into the role of interviewer. Initially skeptical of her ability to handle the job, Mike found himself pleasantly surprised as the interview progressed.

"You know, for someone who's filling in last minute, you're doing pretty damn well," Mike remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You felt your shoulders relax a fraction, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. "Thank you. I'm glad I could hold my own."

Mike nodded thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "More than holding your own, actually. You're asking some really insightful questions."

You couldn't help but smile back, a mixture of relief and pride washing over her. "I've been a writer for a while, just not usually about movies."

"Well, maybe you've found a new calling," he teased lightly, his gaze lingering on her face. "You've definitely got a knack for it."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his compliment. "I think I'll stick to writing," you replied, matching his playful tone. "But who knows? Maybe I'll make an exception."

Mike leaned in a bit closer, the studio lights casting a soft glow around the both of you. "I hope you do," he said sincerely. "Because I'd really like to see you again. Maybe over a drink, not in a studio."

You could feel your heart skip a beat at the invitation. "I'd like that too."

As they exchanged smiles, the noise of the studio faded into the background, leaving only the promise of a new connection blossoming between them.

The bar was buzzing with soft chatter and the clinking of glasses, casting a warm glow over you and Mike as you sat across from each other. After the earlier meeting for the interview, something had shifted, probably the intimate ambiance of the place helped it too.

"So, what's it really like being on stage every night?" you asked, with the voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Mike leaned forward, his eyes sparkling as he recounted stories from his time on Broadway. His passion for his craft was evident, and you found yourself captivated not just by his words but by the sincerity in his gaze.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between laughter and moments of shared insight. Mike found himself drawn to your intelligence and wit, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something special about you.

The drinks arrived, and Mike hesitated for a moment before reaching out to lightly touch your hand. You looked up, meeting his gaze with a hint of surprise that quickly melted into a warm smile.

"I'm really glad we could do this," Mike admitted, his voice soft but earnest.

You could feel your heart skip a beat. "Me too," you replied, the voice tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

In that moment, the air between you both seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. Without another word, Mike leaned in, closing the gap remaining between the two of you. Your lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss that spoke volumes of the attraction simmering beneath the surface.

It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent agreement of mutual interest and the beginning of something new.

The world around you seemed to fade away as they kissed, your hand finding its way to Mike's cheek as if to anchor yourself in the moment. Mike's heart raced, his mind momentarily forgetting the crowded bar and focusing solely on the warmth of your lips against his.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the space between them, Mike searched for your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of wonder and longing.

"Wow," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the soft background music.

"Yeah," Mike murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That was... unexpected."

You chuckled nervously, feeling a warmth spread around your face. "Unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome."

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow of their kiss. The tension that had built up between you and Mike earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced now by a quiet understanding.

"I should probably walk you home," Mike suggested softly, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'd like that."

As you guys left the bar and stepped out into the cool night air, Mike offered you his arm, and you gladly linked hers through his. You walked side by side, with the shoulders brushing occasionally, each lost in their own thoughts yet connected by the spark that had ignited that evening.

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US #DRABBLE - HOW YOU MET HIM

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 1046

MAIN STORY HERE.

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 16 years old.

“Do you know that girl?” Jungkook asks Jimin as he sits beside him in class, and throws his backpack at his feet. Jimin arches a brow.

“Which one?” Jimin replies, scanning the classroom with his eyes. Jimin is popular in their high school. Not only is he handsome, but also really nice and charming, and for good reason.

Jungkook gained popularity shortly after Jimin, mostly because he’s Jimin’s best friend and also for his shy, cute bunny smile. Jungkook continues, pointing to the girl sitting next to the window in the last row.

“Y/N? The girl who got in a fight earlier?” Jimin frowns, his eyes fixed on you as you stuff a tissue into your bloody nose. Jungkook nods, his doe-like eyes falling on you too. He was there when you threw your tray at a girl who had tried to bully you.

He followed the scene from a distance. That girl came straight to you, screaming, mostly to get everyone’s attention. Apparently, the fight was about the girl's boyfriend cheating on her with you, but Jungkook didn't really understand the situation.

It was crazy for Jungkook. He had only kissed a girl once. He found it unimaginable that two sixteen-year-old girls would fight over one sleeping with the other's boyfriend. Well, he knew that most of the girls now were bolder than in his parents’ years.

However, that still wasn’t a good reason for the girl to grab your face and shove it into your food. Although he opposed violence, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction when you hit her with your tray, jumped over the table, and started throwing punches at her face.

He couldn't deny being impressed by your ferocity. Like every other student, he watched you two fought on the floor until two professors intervened to separate you.

Despite being restrained by the professor, who was blocking both your arms, you still had a fistful of her hair and tried to kick her with your foot, while she coughed on the floor.

“Y/N” Jungkook repeats your name as Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“Why?” Jimin questions, turning his attention back to his friend. “Honestly, it’s the first time I have heard something like that about her. Y/N is usually calm and drama-free,” Jimin continues, as Jungkook nods, his eyes still on you, and you feel it, turning your gaze to him before frowning.

His eyes widen, and he quickly looks down at his table. When he shyly glances up again, you’re already gone from your seat, and his brows furrow in a frown as he searches for you with his brown eyes, only to find you stepping out of the class, leaving your stuff at your table. At least you’ll come back, he thinks.

“Kookie!” Jimin calls out loud to Jungkook, who turns to him, “Aren’t you coming with us? We’re going to grab some snacks and head to Hongdae.”

Jungkook scrunches up his nose, shaking his head. He likes arcades, like every boy his age. However, he doesn't know half of the people in the group with Jimin. He's aware that the girl with short light hair, hopelessly looking at him for a positive answer, is trying to flirt with him.

He hates feeling uncomfortable when he's supposed to be enjoying himself with his friends. Jungkook is also too nice to simply tell her he’s not interested. He has homework to finish anyway.

After waving at his friend, he starts to make his way home. He’ll probably be alone. His parents are working, and his brother left for college a while ago. After grabbing a snack at the convenient store, he ends up sitting on a bench at the park, a spot he sometimes stops at with Jimin. Then, he sees you, and his eyes widen as he watches you with a little boy. Is he yours? He chuckles at himself.

The boy seems four or five years old. It was dumb of him to even think that. With a slight smile on his lips, he doesn't even notice that you’ve seen him too. You ruffle the boy's hair before letting him run off to play with the other kids, then make your way to him. Only now does he notice the bruise under your left eye.

“What are you looking at, chestnut?” You call him out, and he freezes, mumbling something as he nearly drops his chocolate bar.

“I- Wh- Me?” Jungkook babbles in a small voice as you stop right in front of him, hands in your pockets.

“Do you see anyone else around here with such a ridiculous haircut?” You raise a brow, and his cheeks flush as he tries to fix his hair, but it only makes it worse—and he knows it. “It’s the second time I catch you staring at me. What do you want?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. His eyes fall on his shoes.

“Nothing.” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze. You sense his discomfort. He’s clearly not part of the group of friends of the girl you beat up earlier. That’s enough to make your features relax slightly.

“I’m Y/N”, you say, more gently this time, offering your hand.

“Jungkook.” He smiles softly, meeting your eyes and shaking your hand.

“I know. Everyone knows you, Jungkook.” you chuckle. He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Unfortunately.”

“You don’t like being the prince of our school?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his chocolate bar.

“It's Jimin's title, not mine.” He corrects you. You always get their names mixed up, even though you know them, since you haven’t paid much attention to who’s who. His eyes fall back on your black eye. “That’s a colorful one,” he says, attempting to make conversation, though the words sound stupid as soon as they leave his mouth.

It was probably too bold of him, and you probably hate him now. But to his surprise, you smirk and brush the bruise under your eye.

You raise your shoulders, sit next to him, “She got worse.”

“Yeah, I saw the hair and blood on the floor.” he grins, shaking his head. When you laugh, he feels something new stir inside his chest—something he’s never felt before.

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Our girl

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Requested by @jelloangela

Request gist: Angry sex with the Weasley twins. An argument that leads into something rough. Fluff at the end.

A/N: Thanks for the request! I decided to use the bunny and kitten nicknames that I used in the headcanons I wrote. I think it came out as the twins being condescending and owning the reader instead of angry sex, so apologies. I got halfway through writing and just went “does this make sense?”. But I stuck with it. I also only wrote that George fucks the reader but Fred is present and teasing the reader, if that counts as twins x reader. Writer's block hit me hard with this one (but writers block can be defeated with old movies and homemade biscuits)

T/W: Rough sex, unprotected sex, jealous + possessive twins, Fred is a little bit of a meanie, nicknames, manhandling, love bites, choking, hair gripping?, degradation and dumbification, allusions to exhibitionism/ prostitution, a teeny bit of overstimulation, soft aftercare

You stormed into the flat above the shop, the twins hot on your trail. They were so jealous of every man you served. If a man came to the counter while you were serving or asked you for help while you were on the shop floor, they were right behind you to scare the man away. If a man so much as looked at you, they would appear as if by magic. That’s how today played out.

You had been on the tills when a man came to the counter. You served him the same way you served any customer, but according to the twins, there was more to the story.

To them, the man had been eyeing you up, staring at your tits when you weren't looking. They even went as far as suggesting that the man was going to ask you out if they hadn't been there. The man was just a customer, but to them he was an enemy eyeing up their girl. They practically ushered him out of the shop and told him that they were closing soon (even though there was still an hour till closing).

Fred was the first to speak up, his hand grabbing your arm to stop you from pacing around the small living room.

“He was flirting with you, Kitten. Stop pretending that you didn't love his attention”.

He pulled your arm, twirling you to face him. George came up next to the two of you and trailed his hand up with back. George leaned closer to your ear and spoke with a soft voice.

“You know we care about you, Bunny. You don't need his attention, not when you have us. We’ll always take care of our girl”.

Your scoff only made them persist more.

“That's not the point, you both-”

Fred’s lips crashing onto yours cut you off. His eager hands found your waist, tugging at the T-shirt you had on. He broke the kiss to pull it over your head before George grabbed your arms and held them behind your back. His grip wasn’t painfully tight, just tight enough to stop you from getting away. Fred took his time pulling your skirt down, admiring how you looked being manhandled in place by his brother.

George pulled you towards the couch, taking a seat before pulling you onto his lap. Your legs were either side of his, your back to him with your arms still being held in place by his.

Fred leaned his face closer to yours, that smirk plastered on his face.

“Maybe you should have behaved, we might have gone easy on you Kitten. Or maybe you wanted me and Georgie to treat you like this”.

His hand slid down your stomach to your clothed pussy. He cupped your pussy, enjoying the way your hips seemed to move on their own, grinding against his hand. He pulled his hand away and ripped your underwear from you. The hand that teased you came up to gently squeeze your neck.

“You will behave when George fucks you, wont you?”

You didn't even have time to respond before you heard George pull his zipper down. You hadn't even noticed the absence of his hand on your arm. You suddenly felt something prod at your entrance before being pushed inside. The lack of preparation made you throw your head back, the sting only fueling your growing desire. George’s hips bucked up into yours, his grip tightening on your arms. His pace was brutal, his tip repeatedly rubbing that spongy spot. Fred remained standing in front of you, his hand finding your hair. He gripped your locks tightly, keeping your face towards him.

His other hand pressed your cheeks together, his tone condescending.

“This is what you needed, wasn't it? Wanted to be fucked like a little slut? Maybe we should have let that guy have a go at your tight pussy, see how much we could have charged him. We’d watch every second. Watch you take it like a slut, hear you beg for us to fuck you instead of him.”

Fred’s words had your pussy clenching around George's cock, making George groan.

“She likes it, Freddie. Imagine how much we’d make just from letting random guys fuck her mouth.”

The twins chuckled, and your cheeks blushed from their humiliating remarks.

Fred's hand came down to rub slow circles over your clit.

“Don't worry, Kitten. We’d never let another man touch you. You’re our pretty slut, aren't you?”

You nodded so fast, whiplash kicked in. You were so close, you could’ve cum from their words alone. The pleasure was building, the twins knew. But they were merciful, this time anyway. George said the words before you could even ask.

“Cum for me, Bunny”

Like the flip of a switch, the band snapped. Your moans filled the sex scented air as your pussy gushed around George's cock. His hands held your arms all throughout, keeping you steady. Fred’s eyes watched your face. He took in every detail as if he hadn't seen you cum before.

George's hips kept bucking, neither twin worrying about your moans that slowly became whines and pleas that it was “too much”. Fred's hand returned to your clit, his face level with yours. Georges cock pulsed inside of you before cum painted your walls. His thrusts slowed to a stop, settling you into his lap and releasing your arms from his grip.

Fred took it as his cue to lift you into his arms before carrying you into the bathroom with a quick remark about ‘looking presentable in front of a lady’ to George. Fred sat you on the side of the bath and turned the taps on. He added all of your favourites from bubble bath to bath salts. When the water had risen and the bath was filled with bubbles, he helped you into the steamy water.

George came into the bathroom and sat on the floor next to Fred, both boys watching you as if you would vanish any second. The water against your aching body felt heavenly, but only one thing could make it better. Your hands left the water, one in each direction of each twin. Both boys reached for their designated hand, holding it like a precious jewel was in their palm. George's other hand came to stroke your cheek softly, and the twins gave each other a look that said it all.

You were their girl.

[sepublic]

There's something just so romantic and domestic about Geode to me... Geo having to take care of his kids on his own, and then the universe literally drops the coolest, baddest husband he could ever imagine right on his doorstep one day. He's the dude who helped resolve the Geckle/Munce conflict that led to Geo being unwanted in the first place. He's the son of Lilly, whom Geo would've heard stories about.

And I love how Cole could've easily just moved on, because he needs to find his fellow ninja for like. The greater good or whatever. But he can't just leave anyone behind, especially people who are forgotten for whatever 'justifications' are offered. That's why Cole's a hero, because no innocent lives are acceptable as sacrifices. He's a bleeding heart who cares too much to look past it, he promised his mother to stand up to those who are cruel and unjust, for those who are hurt and downtrodden. He will always consider the little guy.

Just imagine Cole making that decision, announcing it to the finders that he's going to stay. Imagine Geo's reaction. Imagine Geo not letting himself get too attached at first because he'll be gone, and then he hangs around after all. Cole didn't know how long he'd be here but ninja never quit, as long as there's people in danger he owes it to them to help, even if it kills him.

The domestic vibes of them looking after the kids together, watching them, coordinating the family. The fact that the land of lost things always has this perpetual romantic sunset going on. It's just them, their kids, and this rampaging death machine that is technically the reason they got together in the first place, because without it Cole might've continued with his journey.

And you think Geo was just a little bit worried when it was 'over', when Sora and Nya helped to resolve that issue. Cole had no more reason to stay and protect them, plus he even has a new call to action from his old master! Back to being a hero, back to the times before them. At least there's no rampaging death machine anymore, and Geo chides himself for being selfish, he should be grateful his kids are safe and Cole is reunited with his REAL family...

AND THEN HE COMES BACK!!! COLE COMES BACK AND REMEMBERS!!! He knows what it's like to be lost and forgotten, or at least feel that way, so he'll never forget.

Man, out of all of the ninja who got scattered in the Merge, Cole's whereabouts feel the most satisfying and fleshed out, the way they tie back to his character arc and themes and motifs, his past, everything. Zane was in The Egg, Jay was with the Administration (which IS interesting but also a new development), Kai and Nya had their own things and Lloyd struggled to be the lone ninja, which is also fitting. But with Cole, it just feels all so right and even a way to end off his character's decade-plus arc, I love it. You can tell the writers really care about Cole.

[flightfoot]

How Alya's mistreated by the saltdom and the writers

I've written this for the @yall-hate-kids-tourney, but figured that I'd publish it on my own tumblr as well for an easy reference point for others who want to illustrate how badly Alya's been treated - mostly by the fandom, but she's been somewhat screwed over by the writing as well. I've written it so that even people who have never heard of Miraculous before can understand my problems with the way Alya's often depicted, and I will probably use this essay for that purpose repeatedly in the future. It's over 4500 words, so buckle up!

---

The amount of hatred Alya gets in the fandom is absolutely insane. There are over 800 fics tagged with "Alya Cesaire Bashing", and that's just the ones that actually TAG it - many of them either use a a non-canonical tag or just take their demonization of her as canon. It's not just that a lot of fics bash her either, but that the fics that bash her are disproportionately popular. If you go through the "Miraculous Ladybug" tag on AO3 and sort by kudos, I'd say around a third of the top 500 most popular fics use this gross caricature of her in order to justify inflicting some sort of insane punishment on her, or at least replacing her with "better" friends and leaving her to wail in despair.

Basically, Alya is the best friend of the main character, Marinette. She's really into superheroes and aims to be a reporter someday, to the point that the first time a supervillain cropped up in the series, she immediately got out her bike and cycled after him so that she could be there when a superhero showed up to fight him (Lois Lane would be proud). She runs a blog called the "Ladyblog" which reports on what the superheroes are doing, and sometimes makes some fun videos, like about the most impressive feats of one of the superheroes. 

More relevantly though, she acts as Marinette's support a lot of the time, often being the one to push her to confess her feelings to Adrien, to help her with plans she comes up with, to talk things out with if she's having trouble processing something, and trying to act as the voice of reason if Marinette's gotten to into her own head. It can sometimes head into Black Best Friend territory of having her mostly stick around to support her bestie, but she DOES get a decent amount of screentime and focus at least.

Then the first episode of season 3 aired, and the fandom went BALLISTIC.

This character, Lila, debuted back at the end of season 1 as being this attention-seeking liar who pretended that she knew a lot more famous people than she actually did, including being best friends with Ladybug. Alya, being a naive 14-year-old, believed her and put Lila's interview on her blog. Since Marinette IS Ladybug, she knew this was not true, though she was initially more freaked out about the possibility that Adrien (the boy she has a crush on) would find her supposedly amazing life to be entrancing and that Lila would steal Adrien away from her, to the point that she actively wanted to stop Lila and Adrien from spending time together to prevent Adrien from falling for her.

Fast-forward to Chameleon, the first episode of season 3, and Lila's back and lying some more, this time about having Tinnitus (which would mean that she needs to sit at the front of class, next to Adrien). The class has a whole seating rearrangement in order to accommodate the move, and because some of them just wanted to change seats. Since Marinette was late that day, she didn't get to give input, so she wound up sitting alone at the back of the class, instead of next to Alya like she usually did. She's upset by this, but can't prove that Lila doesn't actually have the disability (she doesn't even have evidence that Lila doesn't have hearing problems, it's just that her story of how she supposedly got the disability is suspect), so she puts up with it for the class period.

Then lunch time rolls around and Marinette tells Alya and Alya's boyfriend, Nino, that Lila's a lying liar who lies. Alya asks why Marinette hates her so much, since she barely knows Lila (this isn't the first time that Marinette's nitpicked at Lila's stories, but she's never actually managed to prove that Lila's lying, Lila's good at coming up with explanations for any hole Marinette exposes in her tales). Marinette tells her how, after Lila first arrived at school, she followed her and Adrien, eavesdropped on them, and then saw Ladybug show up and tear into Lila for not knowing her. (Presumably that's what she says, the episode skipped past her actual recounting of what she saw). Alya and Nino are more concerned with the fact that she stalked Lila and Adrien, with Alya also being skeptical that what she heard might have been out-of-context, given how common out-of-context eavesdropping is in fiction for causing issues, with Alya saying, "A good reporter always verifies her sources. Can you prove she doesn't actually know Ladybug?"

Since Marinette can't actually prove anything without revealing that she's Ladybug, she decides that the sane and reasonable thing to do is to throw a wadded up napkin at Lila while she's eating lunch, and when she catches it (Lila's pretending to have a sprained wrist), to loudly declare that she obviously doesn't have a sprained wrist. Lila quickly pretends that catching it did actually hurt, the classmates Lila was sitting with scold Marinette for hurting her, and then Marinette goes off to seethe in a bathroom, where Lila finds her and threatens to turn her friends against her if she continues trying to expose her lies. 

Then at the end of the episode, Adrien goes to sit with Marinette at the back of the class to keep her company, the teacher thinks that Marinette ALSO has hearing issues so she's brought back to the front (and away from Adrien again), Lila pretends that her hearing has been fixed so she can sit at the back with Adrien, and Alya spots that Marinette looks miserable about sitting alone at the front, so she chooses to sit next to Marinette to keep her company and everyone ends up going back to their old places, except that Lila's sitting at the back of the class now.

And that's it. That is, for the most part, what kicked off the entire Alya hatred and demonization onslaught. While there ARE more things that happening in following episodes, they have a pretty small effect on the demonization Alya's put through, almost all of it is derived from Chameleon and hasn't changed much since then.

So for starters, in fanfics Alya is often made to ditch Marinette constantly to hang out with Lila instead. This never happens. She's often exasperated when Marinette starts talking about how Lila is awful and points out that she doesn't have proof of that, but she doesn't avoid Marinette, and the closest she ever comes to hanging out with Lila outside of class events is when she called Lila over to babysit hers and Nino's younger siblings when Marinette canceled at the last minute.

But most Alya-bashing fics don't just leave it there. Oh no. If you look through a bunch of the most popular Miraculous fics, you'll see Alya made out to be some sort of ringleader for the class in bullying Marinette, hitting her, pinching her, poisoning her, destroying her things, saying nasty, heinous things to her, the works, and inciting the rest of the class to do the same, sometimes to the point that even LILA is shocked at her cruelty. Usually in these cases, Chloe, who is canonically the class bully (and Marinette's bully in particular) is inexplicably Marinette's primary protector against the eeeeeevil Alya, becoming Marinette's best friend and support and basically taking on Alya's canon role and some of her personality traits, despite the fact that canonically, Chloe's as susceptible to Lila's lies as anyone else, and that in season 5 Chloe actually became Lila's partner in crime in trying to hurt Marinette in particular. (I don't like how Chloe's treated in canon, but that's a different story).

I've never even seen any justification given for why Alya's so frequently made to be outright violent or cruel towards Marinette, it's just widely accepted in fiction now, even with nothing pointing to her ever being malicious like that. There ARE other things Alya canonically does that I see her taken to task over though, but that fall apart when you examine them.

One of the biggest offenders is criticism towards Alya over how she handles babysitting. In Christmaster, Alya and Nino pick up Nino's little brother after Marinette babysits him for them while they're on a date, in Timetagger, Marinette's slated to babysit for them while they're on a date but cancels at the last minute, so they call Lila over instead, and then in Simple Man, Marinette books herself to babysit Alya's and Nino's younger siblings and the daughter of one's of her mom's friends, a little girl named Manon, all at the same time.

Alya receives heavy criticism for not paying Marinette for her babysitting, for having Marinette babysit for her secretly behind her parents' back without their knowledge, and for pressuring Marinette to babysit for her even though Marinette's so busy.

A few problems with this.

1. We see babysitting happen several times, sometimes with Alya helping Marinette with babysitting Manon and sometimes with Marinette just babysitting Manon without anyone else's involvement. At no point is payment brought up, and yet the absence of such a discussion is only ever used to demonize Alya.

2. There is no evidence that the babysitting Marinette does for Alya's sake is done behind her parents' back, the only thing pointing to that is a lack of Alya ever flat-out saying that she has her parents' permission to have Marinette babysit for her, but there's no evidence of sneaking around. MARINETTE, however, DOES canonically ditch her babysitting duties by having Alya babysit for her without the parent's knowledge. In Prime Queen, Marinette accidentally double books herself to do an interview as Ladybug at the same time that she's supposed to be babysitting Manon, so she calls Alya over to watch the interview with her, lies to her that she's just gonna go downstairs for a few minutes to talk with her parents and for Alya to please watch over Manon while she does that, and then leaves to do the interview while Alya watches over Manon the whole time. Nadja definitely didn't know that this happened, because she was surprised and worried when Alya and Manon called in during the interview with Marinette nowhere to be seen. In addition to this, in Simpleman, Marinette foists off all the children she's babysitting onto her grandpa against his will so that she can run off and help with Adrien's photoshoot after he calls her. The people demonizing Alya for supposedly having Marinette babysit for her secretly are not upset about the examples of Marinette canonically doing these things.

3. Of the three times that Marinette has, to date, been scheduled to babysit for Alya's sake (Christmaster, Timetagger, and Simpleman), for Christmaster she spent the next several hours after finishing with babysitting making Adrien's 50th birthday present (he's currently 14 years old), so I wouldn't say she was pressed for time, for Timetagger, she literally called Alya at the last minute to say she was too busy to babysit and Alya said it was no biggie and made other arrangements, and for Simpleman, Alya offered to cancel her date and take care of her younger siblings herself the instant she saw that Marinette was already babysitting Manon, and Marinette told her to go ahead and go on her date and that she'd look after her siblings.

So clearly, the people clutching their pearls about how horribly irresponsibly Alya is handling babysitting and how she's wronging Marinette in the process don't actually care about babysitting ethics here, because otherwise, Marinette would be getting the brunt of the hatred, not Alya. Despite this, I've seen a fair number of posts in the past tearing into Alya's babysitting for the reasons I already gave, and a bunch of fics that make it so that Alya pressures and guilt-trips Marinette into babysitting for her when she's struggling to keep up with all her work, only to have her parents find out and be horrified by how Alya's lied to them about who's been doing the babysitting and that Alya's been getting an increased allowance because of that, so they pay Marinette out of Alya's allowance and ground her, take away privileges, just have this be used as an excuse to punish Alya for supposedly wronging Marinette.

And then there's the subcategory of Alya demonization towards her for putting up Lila's interview on her blog without verifying that Lila was telling the truth. Admittedly, this was foolish, but she's 14. Retractions exist for a reason. And yet, fics frequently have her reputation be completely destroyed because she put up one interview that had a false statement by the interviewee in it, and sometimes even to be completely blacklisted from ever being a journalist in the future, things that are completely insane and would have even the most storied and well-respected of reporters be unable to ever get a job. 

She also frequently gets demonized and bashed for "believing Lila over Marinette". My major issue with this: what she's specifically believing Lila over Marinette for is on the topic of "is Lila an awful person". I don't think it's unreasonable to have a higher standard of proof for believing that someone is an awful person than for believing that your friend might just have some biased interpretations. Alya thinks that Marinette doesn't like Lila mostly because Lila has hit on Adrien, Marinette's crush, before. This isn't unreasonable considering that Marinette's first reaction to Lila is to freak out about her stealing Adrien away, and that when this other girl, Kagami, started hanging out with Adrien, she freaked out about that too. Specifically, she called a meeting of all her female friends to try and stop Kagami and Adrien from going away together to London for the weekend in Backwarder, helped Chloe in trying to get Kagami covered in food at a fancy red carpet movie opening in order to drive her away and steal her seat next to Adrien for the movie, and when she and Kagami were paired up for a "friend-making game" where the goal was to locate where Adrien was in Paris and the prize was to spend time with him, she pretended to genuinely want to be Kagami's friend so she could sabotage both of them and prevent Kagami from spending time with Adrien. So it's not like the belief that Marinette might be unfairly biased against Lila because she's made moves on Adrien is an unfair assumption.

In addition to that, on the occasions when Lila HAS tried to frame Marinette for something, Alya hasn't believed it, or hasn't been shown to believe it at least. In Ladybug, Lila tries to frame Marinette for cheating on a test, for stealing a necklace from her, and for knocking her down the stairs. Despite the evidence Lila planted, Alya doesn't believe it and investigates to try and find out what really happened. She doesn't uncover any solid proof, but she still believes in Marinette. She doesn't believe that Marinette's assumption that Lila's behind this is necessarily correct, since Marinette's leaping to that without presenting proof, but she doesn't believe that Marinette's the culprit either. And in the two following cases when Marinette's framed, Alya never actually gets a chance to say what she believes after the accusation is made against Marinette.

Just... the amount of demonization towards Alya TO THIS DAY, often for things she NEVER EVEN FREAKING DID, is absolutely insane. Even over 5 years since Chameleon aired, fics with Alya being made into this malicious, awful bully so that Marinette can get some new friends to publicly denounce her, get her arrested, or otherwise be punished are frequently on the front page of the most recently updated fics on AO3, and are often some of the most popular ones. If you go to "Fandom-Specific plot" on Tvtropes, saltfics like these have multiple files going through all the common salt tropes. When looking through fics, I frequently search for Alya's name because she's often the first person to be unfairly demonized, so if she's safe, then everyone likely is. 

I suspect that racism plays a major factor in this. It doesn't make sense that Alya's often painted as being a violent, malicious bully and leader in getting the rest of the class to physically hurt and terrorize Marinette, I haven't even seen analysis arguing that she'd do that... but it tracks with the "Black Brute" archetype. This becomes even more obvious with Chloe, who's white and canonically DOES do some of this stuff, taking on Alya's canon role and some of her personality traits in these sorts of stories.

Then there's the standard Alya's held to for how she handles her blog. It's way higher than anyone would hold real-world reporters to, much less 14-year-olds. But it makes sense if you factor racial bias into account, and how Alya, being Black, is going to be held to a higher standard than anyone else, and be punished more for failing to meet that standard.

For things like the babysitting double standard, it makes no sense if you're actually looking at the stated criticism, given that the same criticism isn't leveled at Marinette... but it makes perfect sense if you're going off the assumption that Alya, as Marinette's Black Best Friend, is supposed to solely function as her support and that she's simply fulfilling her duties by always being there for her when needed, including for babysitting, but that if Marinette ever attempts to repay in kind, then Alya's being unfair towards her because Alya's obligated to always support Marinette, but that relationship is supposed to be a one-way street. Alya is supposed to function as Marinette's support, never the other way around.

And as for the way Alya's demonized for asking for evidence before believing that Lila's lying, well... again, Alya's expected to act as Marinette's support, and her "failing" that in any way, even if it makes sense from her point of view, is viewed as a betrayal. She's supposed to be loyal to Marinette, and only to Marinette, not to think for herself or to have multiple other friends or values that she needs to weigh. And anything that she does to go against that "justifies" Marinette intentionally trying to hurt and punish her for failing to live up to her role.

In conclusion, the way Alya's treated by the salt side of the fandom is grossly unfair, often has little connection with anything she canonically did, and has some gross racist implications, and is likely at least partially spurred on by racism, especially with how common and popular it still is to this day.

Addendum: How Alya is screwed over by the writers.

While Alya is primarily screwed over by the fanbase, there are some aspects of the writing that exacerbate her ill treatment. In season 4, Marinette confesses her secret identity to Alya, letting her know that she is Ladybug. Despite now knowing why Marinette was so convinced that Lila wasn't friends with Ladybug, and that Lila's interview stating that she's best friends with Ladybug is a lie, the subject just... never comes up, even when Lila starts being important again. It's not that Alya's ignoring what Lila lying on those subjects means, it's more like the writers just completely forgot that Lila told those particular lies, since Marinette doesn't bring them up either. This creates an inconsistency with the fanbase, who really, really, REALLY haven't forgotten those lies. 

There ARE ways to explain this - Lila lying about being friends with Ladybug in order to try to boost her reputation, especially when she's the new girl, isn't really all that heinous. Marinette lies a lot as well, even if you don't count lies told to protect her secret identity or other "necessary" lies, sometimes out of embarrassment, sometimes to to try and prevent someone's feelings from getting hurt, and sometimes because she thinks it's the fastest, easiest, or most certain way to get the outcome she wants. And yet, even though Marinette lies a lot, she's not ostracized for that since it's usually not for malicious reasons - foolish reasons at times, but rarely malicious. It would make sense that Lila too, wouldn't be thought too badly of for merely lying in an attempt to make friends.

None of that actually comes up though. Alya later, in Confrontation, states that, "Marinette, you know we'll always believe you. But every time you've accused Lila, there's been no evidence. And at worst, it was just a misunderstanding." Marinette doesn't say anything about the previous times Lila has been proven to lie, so it seems like either it was decided offscreen that the more understandable lies she's told don't matter, or that the writers just plain forgot about them.

There were other opportunities created by Alya knowing Marinette's identity that were ignored. Alya concludes that Adrien backing up Marinette's statement that Lila's bad news was just due to him wanting to defend his girlfriend. This is also a bit of a writing flaw, while wanting to back up his girlfriend's stance IS a decent reason for Adrien to be biased against Lila, this is Adrien we're talking about here. He's nice and understanding to a fault, and is known for giving people the benefit of the doubt and second chances. It makes far less sense to believe that he'd believe the worst of Lila, even if Marinette does, than it does for Marinette to be biased against Lila. That being said, Adrien wouldn't have been present for Lila's more indisputable threats and statements directed against Marinette, so he can't actually verify for sure whether or not there could've been some misunderstanding.

There WAS, however, someone who was always with Marinette, and who could actually back up Marinette's statements more definitively. 

Tikki. She was present for every threat Lila made, for everything she ever claimed. While it's possible that both Tikki and Marinette may have misunderstood Lila in the same way, it's far less likely, especially since Tikki would have had different biases from Marinette. Tikki could be an important witness. Yet that never comes up, is never proposed, because that would end the plotline too quickly. 

Alya was also screwed over in the immediate aftermath of Lila being exposed, though not by the writers per se? There was a short scene planned after Lila's exposed where Alya apologizes for not believing Marinette about Lila being a liar and generally an awful person, we've even got leaked footage of it, but it appears that it was cut somewhere between being written and voice acted, and the episode being aired. 

All of this only really affects detailed arguments about how well (or poorly) Alya's story arc with Lila was handled, its affect on the actual fanfiction produced about Chameleon salt was minimal, I saw no change in its frequency, severity, or general handling of the characters with any season after season 3. I highly doubt that even the changes I suggested here would have done much to persuade the saltdom against Ron the Death Eatering Alya, especially since a lot of the hatred against her has so little to do with the show.

There IS some hatred thrown at Alya for non-Lila related reasons - well, reasons that aren't DIRECTLY Lila related, most of that hatred still stems from people hating her for Chameleon stuff and then retroactively justifying it by looking back at other things she did that irked them. The most common one (that actually has some sort of argument to it, not the "Alya's a horrible babysitter and is abusing her friendship with Marinette" nonsense I listed in the main essay) is that Alya's pushy about getting Marinette together with Adrien. 

This is more a product of Alya's usual role in the story than anything. I mentioned in the main essay how Alya sometimes falls into "Black Best Friend" territory, and this is one of the biggest examples. One of her most common roles throughout the series is as the person who pushes Marinette to actually confess to Adrien, to hang out with him, to pursue her romantic desires even with her anxiety holding her back, and to be honest with herself during the times when she's trying to deny her feelings for him. She's Marinette's sounding board whenever she's having an anxiety spiral about... actually, just about anything, and acts as the voice of reason when Marinette gets in her own head too much.

Thus, Alya sets Marinette and Adrien to end up somewhere alone together, or tries to push her to talk to him, or to be honest during the times when she tries to "move on" from Adrien by denying that she still has feelings for him (which is blatantly untrue). She IS okay with Marinette dating someone else though, if she honestly seems to want to do that. She had no problem with her dating Luka, for instance. She DID protest Marinette's seemingly sudden interest in Chat Noir, but that was mostly because Marinette seemed to be grabbing at her new attraction as an attempt to run away from her feelings for Adrien, something that Tikki ALSO noted.

That's another thing - Alya's the character who's most frequently thrown into this role, but she's not the only one, nor even the most extreme one. A new character that was introduced for the Miraculous New York Special, Jess, observed how Adrien and Marinette acted around each other, and decided to try to get them to confess their love by faking a supervillain attack on them, with the supervillain kidnapping anyone that no one loves in order to compel Marinette to FINALLY confess to Adrien. (Alya thought it was stupid, but agreed to help since it might actually work). When Marinette, Adrien, Luka, and Kagami went out to the wax museum together, Luka intentionally locked Adrien and Marinette in a room together so that Marinette would stop running away and would be forced to talk to Adrien. Marinette is written in such a way that other characters are compelled to meddle in her lovelife, because otherwise she'll continue making her own extreme plans and pining away, but never actually confess her feelings. 

So while Alya could be said to be "pushy" to an extent, it's mostly for Marinette's benefit. I would like if this was a less frequent role for Alya - I think it does her a disservice, since it locks her firmly into Marinette's orbit rather than emphasizing who Alya is as her own character. Most of the hatred towards Alya for this is tied up in "Die For Our Ship" being directed at Adrien though, with Adrien bashers hating that Alya's trying to set Marinette up with what they see as an inferior option. Ironically enough, while Alya's role in this situation is one of the primary examples in the show of her being treated by the writers as a "Black Best Friend" who exists to serve Marinette's character, it's actually one of the cases where I think racism is a pretty minor part of the hatred by the fanbase over it, since I think that's mostly motivated by hatred towards the Lovesquare.

In conclusion (again), there is an issue with the writers bending Alya's character in order to tell a particular story, particularly a Marinette-centered story, while ignoring how little sense that makes with what happened earlier on in the plotline, or how it centralizes Alya's role and character around Marinette in ways that exacerbate already existing writing patterns in media. 

[little-diable]

The Devil is Among Us - Tom Riddle (smut)

I just love writing priest!Riddle, he's def my fave. Nevertheless, remember: Don't like it, don't read it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is in a desperate need, asking the Devil himself to help her with the daily struggles she keeps on facing. But what will she do when suddenly her local priest turns up?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unrpotected piv, blowjob, loss of virginity, praise kink, sex in a church, mentions blood, power play, religious connotations, biblical beings

Pairing: Priest/Devil!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (3k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

The candles danced in the thick blanket of darkness surrounding (y/n), knees pressed to the ground, hands tightly gripping the leatherbound book she was reading. No sound could be heard, nothing but a bone-chilling silence that made goosebumps rise on her skin, unsure if she should keep on doing this. 

For a moment (y/n)’s eyes flickered up from the page she was reading, studying the pentagram she had drawn on the ground, following every step of the ritual. Her heart was pounding, roaring in her chest in hopes of ripping her away from this scene before she could take the last step. But she was determined, set on following through with the ritual she had been studying for nights on end.

With a deep breath sucked into her lungs, (y/n) reached for the knife laying next to her, trembling hand pushing it closer to the candles. She watched the reflection of the flames dance in the shiny blade, heating up the material before she brought the blade back to her wrist. A hiss rolled off her tongue as she cut her skin, collecting drops of her blood in the old goblet she had thrifted weeks ago. 

The first words began to roll off her tongue, latin words she knew by heart, forcing them into her brain. Her eyes fluttered close as (y/n) rose to her feet, positioning herself in the middle of the pentagram, letting the blood drip down onto the candles, while she kept speaking the words. 

Her body couldn’t stop trembling, sensing the danger before her mind could pick up on it, but (y/n) couldn’t stop now, not after waiting for this very night to come upon her for weeks. She had prepared everything, carefully, not daring to tell anybody about what she was doing, trying to summon the Devil, the one that could help free her from the mess she found herself stuck in. All she needed was some of his help, ripping those from (y/n) that talked down on her, that pushed her away from gatherings, treating her like an outcast. 

As soon as the last word was spoken, the goblet fell from her hands, clashing to the ground with a sound so shrill, (y/n) couldn’t help but jerk in surprise. She held still, kept her mouth shut, waiting for something to happen, anything, and yet nothing did. Seconds kept fading by, seconds turning into one minute, then two, then three – till the first wave of defeat began to flush through her. 

With a sigh leaving her (y/n) found herself groaning, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion, wondering what she had done wrong. But before another sound of hers could echo through the dark basement, the sound of somebody slowly clapping their hands filled the room, making her eyes snap towards the dark corner across from her. The sound of chuckles rang in her ears, eyes desperately trying to focus on the person hiding away from her. 

“I have to say, (y/n), I’m impressed.” A familiar voice filled the basement, and yet (y/n) couldn’t pinpoint where she knew the male voice from. Fear filled her body, thumping through her veins as she began to take a step back, almost knocking over the candles. “What? First you summon me, and now you’re afraid of me? C’mon, (y/n), I expected better from you.”

The sound of a chair being pushed back left her gasping, boots meeting the cold ground till the man’s frame was exposed to her. Her eyes met an all too familiar pair of pupils staring at her, making her gasp in surprise.

“Priest Riddle? What are you doing here? How did you –” the sound of laughter once again interrupted (y/n), forcing the young woman to keep quiet. The man kept walking closer, till he came to halt in front of her trembling frame, staring down on her with a smirk tugging on his lips. He picked the goblet up, thumb collecting a few last drops of her blood before he pressed his now red digit against her parted lips. 

“So naive, so stupid, don’t disappoint me, (y/n). You know why I’m here.” Shaky breaths left her, shaking her head as if she was trying to wake from this nightmare. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be. 

“You’re a priest, how – how could you possibly be Him?” It was nothing but a whisper, a sound so quiet even her own two ears struggled to pick up on it. He tilted his head, didn’t break eye contact once as his hand began to move down her throat, finding its way to her chest. (Y/n) felt her heart skipping beats, a power so strong was pressing down on the strong muscle, she failed to keep on breathing. 

“Haven’t you heard? I like to keep those close who fear me, I enjoy their whimpers, how they ache for guidance because they fear ending up in my claws. It's pathetic.” Only as he pulled his hand away did she manage to suck another breath into her lungs, glassy eyes searching his firey ones. “You asked me here, because you want something from me. Speak freely, (y/n).”

“I,” she stumbled over her words, no longer able to remember why she had tried to call the Devil himself, no longer remembering the pain she was forced to endure day in, night out. Her eyes couldn’t leave his features, the smirk that had an awfully unfamiliar touch to it, not fitting the face of the priest she had known for years. “Do you remember what I told you last month? In the confessionary?” 

“I do, of course I do.” The softness of his voice left her heart roaring, torn between her fear and her curiosity, body moving closer before her mind could pick up on the movement. His eyes followed her around, like a moth drawn to a flame, like a sinner drawn to the Devil, a perfect match. 

“I want it all to stop, the rumours, the pain, everything.” A hum left the tall man, he pondered over her words, eyes flickering down to her fingers, watching her fumble with the fabric of her blouse. His cold hand found her chin, forcing her eyes back to meet his, the pupils that have seen more pain than one could even begin to understand. 

“You know it’ll come with a price, don’t you?” Her pupils grew wide once again, clearly (y/n) hadn’t thought about the price she’d have to pay, wondering what he may ask of her. 

“Do I have to sell my soul to you?” The words leaving her lips in nothing but a whisper left the man chuckling, head thrown back to release the sound. He shook his head, clicking his tongue as if he was trying to keep her frozen to the spot, not daring to let go of her warm skin just yet. 

“Whoever told you that clearly wanted to frighten you, sweet (y/n). No, I don’t want your soul, but your body. Give yourself to me, and I will follow your request.” She choked on her breath, unable to rip herself free as he tightened his grip even further. Her heart once again picked up its pounding pace, roaring in her chest, begging (y/n) to pull back. No man had ever touched her, not one man had been able to reach for her heart nor her soul, hidden from greedy eyes and greedy fingers. 

“Can I think about it?” He shook his head, wordlessly circling her in even further, forcing (y/n) to make her decision right there, right then. “Okay. I will do it.”

“Good girl,” the praise left her shuddering, straightening her back as goosebumps rose on her skin. All he could do was laugh, watching her body tense at his words, very well aware that he’ll have his fun with (y/n), the one he had been watching from afar, expecting this very day to roll upon them. “I’ll expect to see you tomorrow for my morning service, (y/n).”

And with a nod thrown his way, (y/n) watched him disappear in front of her wide eyes, leaving her to wonder if this had been a dream, a trick of her brain. 

……

With her eyes set on the tall man, (y/n) followed the others, walking closer and closer to receive the body of Christ. Her heart was pounding, wondering if he’d say something to her, if he’d tease her once again. Just the mere thought about what she had experienced yesterday evening left her feeling uneasy, thighs trembling. 

“Open your mouth, (y/n).” The command forced a sigh from her, lips slowly parting to expose her tongue to him. Without breaking eye contact he pushed the host down on the strong muscle, making him smirk as he watched her pupils dilate. With a nod thrown her way, he allowed her to turn back to the waiting crowd, none of them seemed to pick up on the shudders his touch shot down her spine, none of them seemed to pick up on the way her skin grew hotter with every passing second. 

The Devil had her trapped, caught in a dark web of lies, of pretending, a web she couldn’t break from. 

No longer could (y/n) spare any attention to the end of the service, hanging onto his every word without picking up on what he was actually speaking, imagination running wild, forcing sinful pictures into her mind. She could only guess that he’d be ruthless with her, he will take what he is aching for – that much she was sure of. 

Only as he ended the service with one last “Amen” leaving him did (y/n) snap out of her trance, eyes watching the others pour out of the church, while she stayed seated. He leaned back against the altar, arms crossed in front of his chest as he wordlessly forced her to walk towards him, almost stumbling over her feet as the pull inside her grew stronger and stronger. 

“Kneel.” The word echoed through the empty church, making her eyes snap up to meet his as (y/n) fell to her knees in front of him. She watched him loosen his white collar, plastic placed down on the altar before he began to roll up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. “Will you stick to your promise, sweet (y/n)?”

“I will.” Her whisper left him smirking once again, eyebrows raised as he waited for her to keep on speaking. “I will give myself to you. But how will I know that I can trust you? You’re fooling those around you, all of it is blasphemy, is it not?” 

The man’s deep laughter rumbled through him, shaking his head as he reached for her jaw just like he had done yesterday evening. His thumb was forced into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue to make (y/n) suck on the finger, drawing a raspy groan from him. “You’ve always been my favourite, (y/n). I knew you’d be good, such a good girl for me. A deal is a deal, I won’t back out, you have my word.” 

Trusting the word of the Devil, how pathetic, how naive of her. 

“What should I call you?” Her whispered question was left unanswered, drowned out by the sound of him undoing his trousers, exposing his throbbing cock to her curious eyes. She stared at him without moving, unable to speak another word, mouth growing dry, throat growing tight. She had never seen a man naked before, had never even dared to imagine what she was seeing now, and yet (y/n) couldn’t stop the anticipation from thumbing through her veins, making her tremble for more.  

“Part those pretty lips for me, darling.” He pushed his cock past her lips, leaving her to instantly choke. Water filled her pupils, blurring her sight for a moment. The man didn’t hold back, his hand found the back of her head, forcing her to pick up a bobbing motion. Without seeking any further guidance her hands moved up his thighs, grasping his cock. 

It took her a few tries to adjust, but (y/n) was determined, set on pleasing the man who’d help her out, the being with a soul so dark, her mind couldn’t even begin to understand what he was capable of. Her hands trembled, struggling to move in sync with the speed of her bobbing motion, taking him deeper and deeper. He was a groaning mess, producing sounds that left her cunt begging for his attention, needing to be touched like she had never been touched before. 

“Mhm, I should keep you, make you mine for eternity. I know you’d do well serving me.” (Y/n) could only whimper around him, not expecting him to jerk his hips, fucking her mouth without a warning rolling off his tongue. Spit dripped from her mouth, strings of saliva connected her lips to the tip of his cock as he allowed her to pull away, catching her breath as her hands kept moving. “Fuck, look at you, so oblivious, so naive, and yet your hands know how to touch me.”

An unfamiliar sense of pride flushed through her, taking him into her mouth once again. (Y/n) was eager, set on proving her worth to the king of darkness, the one all sinners followed through the darkest night. She was his, had sold her soul without knowing so, and yet (y/n) felt protected, safe, and appreciated by him. A trick of his mind that forced her to do whatever he asked of her. 

“Tell me, are you ready to take me?” The question left her swallowing, unable to reply, not knowing what was awaiting her. He didn’t give her any time to ponder on the question, pulled away from her to pick her up, setting her down on the cold altar. Her gasps rang in their ears, making him chuckle with a dark expression tugging on his features. There was no way out, she was stuck, forced to the being without any chance to snap the unbreakable bond. 

He spread her legs, hands disappearing underneath her skirt, feeling the damp fabric of her panties. She didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare move, wondering what would happen, how he’d touch her, how he’d make her feel. Her heart was pounding, mind racing, paying attention to his every touch. 

“You’re soaked, dripping for me, so inexperienced, but your body knows just what it wants, doesn’t it?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, allowing him to pull her panties down her legs, making the cold air hit her warm skin. A moan ripped through her as his fingers brushed through her slit, pumping into her without giving (y/n) the chance to adjust. He fucked her with his fingers, rubbed her pulsing bundle of nerves with his cold thumb, making her writhe. 

“Oh god, feels good.” Her head rolled back, hands finding his forearms, desperate to hold onto the ancient being. She barely picked up on the teasing words he spoke, couldn’t care about the things he was speaking, fully focused on the new sensation, hoping that this moment would last forever. 

“God isn’t around, He won’t help you, not as long as you’re mine.” Darkness engulfed her as (y/n)’s eyes fluttered close, drawing sobs, moans, and whimpers from her body, sounds growing louder as he pulled away, as he stopped touching her. Her hazy eyes watched him align himself with her cunt, slowly pushing into her, making her body tremble in pain. 

It took her a while to adjust to the stretch, needing to breathe through the pain, while he slowly fucked into her. With their eyes connected, he placed one hand down on the altar, while the other found the back of her neck, forcing her lips to meet his, officially sealing their deal without (y/n) knowing so. He had claimed her, had made her the devil’s toy, nothing would ever free her from him. The being tasted of darkness, of a rich darkness that was so unfamiliar she’d never taste it again. 

Curses left her, words he found himself chuckling about as he built up the pace of his thrusts, ruthlessly, merciless fucking (y/n) on the holy altar. There was nothing sweet about the first time she was touched, and yet (y/n) felt grateful that he was the one touching her, that she had given herself to him, to him only. 

Her walls clenched around his cock whenever he nudged her sweet spot, murmuring a soft “Touch yourself” against her neck. With trembling fingers she began to rub her clit, eyes fluttering close once again, arching her chest against his. (Y/n) felt him suck marks into her skin, marks she’d carry around with herself till her last day on this very earth, forever marked by the Devil himself. 

No words helped her express the intense feeling building itself up inside of her, thumping through her veins, making her quiver. She came with a gasp, clinging onto her orgasm in hopes of prolonging the feeling. He kept on fucking her, even as her body trembled from the overstimulation, begging him to give in.  

With his hand finding her jaw, holding onto her, he came inside of her, painting her walls white with a deep groan clawing through him. She felt his heat filling her, stretching itself through her body, a sensation she’d forever remember, stuck in the holy halls, closer to God than she had ever been before. 

“I expect you to return, you’re mine now, you belong to me. I will take care of my end of the deal. But know that there’s no way back.”

[multifandomfanficss]

It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

[sleepysnk]

a/n: i was bored and i’d like to thank @kxmisato for giving me this idea. it really helped me out of my writers block 😁, so thank you ren. i also love hanma, so yeah pls enjoy this horny idea.

pairings: hanma shuji x fem!reader

warnings: modern au, college au, nsfw, smut, mentions of high school but reader and hanma are both in college, brief choking, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, dirty talk, praising, use of pet names (princess, baby, doll, babydoll), unprotected sex, hanma is reader’s brothers best friend, mentions of cigarettes.

dirty secrets ft. hanma shuji

Your older brother’s best friend.

It all started when you were about fourteen years old.

Your older brother was about two years older than you. He was a junior in high school while you were a freshman. Many people often knew who you were because of your brother and how popular he was on campus. He gained the attention of many girls and some of them even tried to befriend you so they could get closer to your older sibling. It bothered you, a lot. It was also awkward when people would straight up tell you how attractive he was or how they wanted him to hook up with them. At times, you never knew how to respond and simply walked away from them. You were very much disturbed by their words and wanted to disappear after those conversations.

However, things changed when you were introduced to your brother’s best friend.

Hanma Shuji.

When you first met him, you were astounded at how attractive he was. He was taller than you by several inches, tattoo’s covered his hands, and he had a variety of black and blonde colored hair. He was a classic bad boy. He ran around campus ditching his classes or spending his Friday nights drinking and getting high with his friends until the sun came up. He easily attracted you the second he walked through the door of your home.

Your small crush turned into a big one as the years passed. Hanma and your brother became so close that they attended the same college with one another. With that fact being at play, Hanma was always hanging around at your place. You often tried to avoid him, but sometimes he’d run into you and try to spark up conversations.

You could hardly look into those honey eyes of his. Talking to him sent you over the edge from how delicious his voice sounded in your ears. He was such a sweet talker. You weren’t that surprised when you heard that some of the girls in your class had slept with him. Secretly, you envied them. This was Hanma Shuji of all people. He was practically every girl’s heartthrob and they got the chance to see him with his clothes off? They were luckier than any other person on the planet.

Years passed, and you were now nineteen.

You attended the same university as your brother. Your mother and father both agreed it’d be a good idea, because if something were to happen to you, there was someone on campus that could help you. As much as your older brother despised it, he dealt with it since he wouldn’t hear the end of it from your parents if he disagreed.

This also meant you saw Hanma often.

Hanma had completely changed in college. He grew slightly taller, and his hair had begun to slightly curl at the ends. He had grown it out so it was no longer sticking up at the top of his head. He also had started smoking cigarettes. You discovered that fact after attending some sorority party, and seeing him with the cancer stick between his lips. He looked just as intimidating as he did when you first met him, but he also had a mysterious aura surrounding him now.

Despite being near each other, you both never talked. Hanma knew who you were and you knew who he was, but you never spoke a single word to one another. You didn’t know if it was because maybe he wasn’t interested or if possibly he didn’t care enough to speak to you. You didn’t really mind much, but it was so weird seeing him when you used to say hello to him all the time at your home.

However, you were much older now. You weren’t some fourteen year old freshman who became shy any time a boy looked in your direction. You knew those feelings would fizzle out eventually for Hanma. He’d hardly give you the time of day, so it didn’t really matter to you in the end.

You were sure of this, so damn sure.

Well, you weren’t so sure now, considering the situation you had found yourself in.

Right now, you were underneath that same man you had a crush on all those years ago. His thick cock kissing at your g-spot, making you squeal in pleasure from how fucking amazing it felt. It was so much better than you imagined. You didn’t think you’d ever gain the chance to feel such ecstasy. All of the girls in your class were right. Hanma Shuji was really a dream in bed.

Hanma intertwined his fingers with yours as he fucked you, keeping up with the hard pace he had originally started with. “F-Fuck.. yeah, just like that, baby. Keep calling my name..” he cooed, peering down at you with pure lust in his golden eyes.

Your body felt like it was on fire. You were well aware that your brother was downstairs, drinking with all of his friends. Part of you was so fucking scared that he’d come up there and find the two of you in the bedroom, but it was too good to for you to even think about stopping. Hanma was doing everything right. He made you feel like you were on the moon from how great his thrusts were. “H-Hanma! Oh, god.. it feels s-so good!” you blubbered, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blade.

He looked like a god up above you. His pretty features were lined with sweat. A sly smirk rested on his face while he watched your fucked out face crinkle with pleasure. If only you could see yourself from his point of view. He wished he had been recording, because you were such a fucking sight like that. “Yeah..? You feel good, princess?” the hand with sin on the back reached to wrap around your throat. “You’re so fuckin’ dirty.. letting your brother’s best friend fuck your little cunt while he’s downstairs..”

Your walls fluttered around his cock from his dirty talk. He was driving you to almost your limit from his actions.

You weren’t sure how the two of you even ended up like this. He was just escorting you to the bathroom and that was it. He even waited out there so nobody would try and creep on you, but you eventually ended up in the bedroom. You partially blamed it on the fact that you had a few sips of a drink before going up there, but you didn’t think he’d be bold enough to make a move on you.

All you knew was that you were in heaven, and you didn’t want this to end. Fuck, you had been craving this moment since you first met. You remembered the times where you’d go back to your dorm and fuck yourself with your fingers, imagining it was his dick filling you up. However, your fingers didn’t compare to the thickness of his cock.

Hanma groaned as he felt you tightening around him slowly. You were bound to be close now, and he was determined to give you the best High you’ve ever had. “Gonna cum, doll? I wanna feel that pretty pussy let go.. all for me.” he purred, using his free hand to play with your swollen clit. “Been wantin’ this pussy for years now..”

That fact only made you inch closer to your orgasm. He was intoxicating you so much to the point where your brain became foggy from the euphoria. “Hanma..! Oh, shit! I’m c-close!” you felt the knot inside of your belly tightening with each thrust. It was becoming unbearable. You could feel tears brimming at your lash line from how great it felt.

Hanma smirked, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He gave your throat a small squeeze then leaned down towards your ear to speak to you. You were so pretty whining underneath him like that. “I’ll make you feel really good, babydoll, I promise.” he said. “Scream my fucking name when you cum.. okay? Let the whole house know who’s making you feel good..”

Your head nodded vigorously at his request. Suddenly, his pace picked up, causing your eyes to roll back from the pleasure. You could hardly contain the moans that fell from your lips. He was driving you insane. Why didn’t you make a move sooner? If you knew he’d treat you this way, you would have taken your chances when you first arrived at college.

As your orgasm drew close, your voice grew louder and louder. It was almost like you were calling his name like it was a prayer. “Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck, Hanma! Hanma!” you cried, feeling the coil inside of your belly snap.

Hanma grunted when your walls squeezed his cock. A white ring of cream covered the base, making him smirk. Calling out his name only gave him the confidence to fuck you so good you won’t want anybody else than him. He desired you for so fucking long. He wasn’t about to let some other guy try and take over. He wanted you, and he was going to make sure he’d make you his. He didn’t give a single fuck what your damn brother said.

He leaned towards your face, kissing you as he continued thrusting into you. He swallowed all of your moans as they slipped from your mouth. He truly adored you. “So good for me..” he said between kisses. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Make this pussy mine.”

You made direct eye contact with him, shaking your head. “P-Please.. make me yours, Hanma.” you begged, brushing your fingers against his cheeks.

The sound of your pretty voice begging him to be filled only encouraged him to keep at it. He could feel his own orgasm creeping upon him. The pit in his stomach only grew larger. He could also feel his cock twitching inside of you, giving him the notice that he was close. He was gonna give you all he had. That’s what you deserved.

Grunting, Hanma’s hand went on one side of the pillow. He trailed the hand tattooed with ‘Punishment’ down your chest and towards your abdomen. Goosebumps appeared on your delicate skin from how his touch felt. You could feel the overstimulation taking over, turning your moans into whimpers and whines. It was like music to his ears. “Fuck.. I’m gonna cum..” he said, looking deep into your pretty eyes.

“Cum inside me.. Hanma!” you moaned, letting your mouth fall open.

After a few erratic thrusts, Hanma groaned deeply as he reached his high. Thick, white cum painted your insides, filling your womb. You couldn’t help but whimper from how warm it felt inside of your cunt. He practically emptied his balls inside of you.

Panting, he lied down beside you. He made sure to keep his cock nice and snug inside of you so none of his cum slipped out and made a mess. He didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of that kind of clean up. He then reached over, pulling your body against his. The two of you were both sweating and the room was hot. You didn’t think you’d ever have this chance, but you didn’t have a single regret about the whole thing.

“Do you.. think he heard us?” you asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Hanma glanced down at you, brushing his hands against your waist. He smirked. “Probably.. but I could care less.” he replied. “We had a good time.. I think that’s all that mattered to me.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his chest. Maybe fucking your older brothers best friend had its perks. Maybe.. this could be your dirty secret.

tagging: @chaileaf <3 love u

[dragonridernoobie]

Hiiii how are you. I'm back for a request. If it OK that is I'm not forcing you or I don't wanna come of as if I an I hope I don't but anyways, how about Megatron (from Transformers Prime) finds a hybrid, human and Cybertronian? (Reader)

This is something that has been in my mind. What would Megatron's reaction be? What will he do to them?

(In my mind I see the reader as Raphael's older sister but that'll be up to you since you are the writer)

Yeah I know I wrote a whoooole script but I couldn't hold back sorry if it's too long.

Don't see myself doing raphs sister since it wouldn't really make sense (in my mind) so I'm just gonna use random person who's parents fucked a robot. Sorry it took so long!!!!

TFP Megatron X MixBreed Reader

Megatron found out some of his old soldiers that fled from cybertronian years ago came on earth. They made a life here, and he was pissed. They betrayed him, they left their duties, and they are a traitor to the cause. So, he sent out his drones to find them and be them to him so they could face their punishment.

Soon, his troops found a lot of them, and they were brought back and killed. Though, there were some ex-Decpticons that were no longer online. Though, one of them named EdgeBlade, somehow made a family with a human.

So, he decided to take his anger on their family. When he sent out this order, he had smokescreen in his grasp, so they heard everything. When smokescreen escaped, he told the autobot team everything.

So, the ratchet and Raphael looked up this unknown family and the child of an ex-decpticon. They soon find them, their location, and names.

They only had one child. (Y/N). Somehow, a cybertronian, a completely diffrent species, was able to make a offspring with a human.

So, this was a big deal. Optimus ordered everyone to go get (Y/N) and their father. When the team fled to go find them, they where to late.

Megatron was at the house and found (Y/N). Their father was now dead. The autobots did try to help (Y/N) and rescue them. Sadly, it would not work and Megatron was able to get away from them.

On the warship, megatron demanded to explain themselves and ask how their carrier(Cybertronian version of mother) went offline.

(Y/N) would explain they don't understand intel megatron got tierd of (Y/N) being so clueless, that he decided to end them right there and then.

He charged his blaster and shot. When he expected (Y/N) to be dead, he was bet woth (Y/N) safe and sound. They somehow summoned a energon shield.

You're shield (Not my art)

Megatron was amazed and shocked. A human with the power to make an energon weapon? He has no words.

When he finally gets his grip back, he demands them how they did that. (Y/N) explained that they don't know what he is talking about but megatron ain't hearing about it.

He commands knockout and Shockwave to study (Y/N) and figure out how they summoned a sheild. When knockout and Shockwave did, they found out that (Y/N) is first time ever.

A hybrid. A human cybertronian hybird... how is that possible? Knockout and Shockwave look more into it, making sure they keep (Y/N) alive.

Megatron eventually tells them to stop and takes (Y/N). He demands them to join his cause and in exchange, he will teatch them about their cybertronian side.

(Y/N) with no choice, accepts. Though, (Y/N) has one thing that megatron dosent know about.

They have a phone, and they are sending messages to Raphael, who hacked her phone.

[rachetmath]

Pyrrha: Hi you must be Alyx.

Alyx: Yes.

Pyrrha: Well I just want to talk to you about something.

Alyx: I mean sure but what-

Pyrrha: Not what. It’s who. You know Jaune Arc?

Alyx: I mean y-

Pyrrha: You know the Rustud Knight? The one you betrayed? Who you poisoned?

Alyx: Well I can- *attempts to run*

Penny: *blocks her path*Nope. All attempts of escape are at zero right now.

Alyx: You can’t be serious.

Penny: As the current generation would say," Oh yes bitch. Try me."

Alyx: Okay I may have wronged him a little bit.

Lewis: A little? You completely poisoned him.

Alyx: Lewis you are not helping.

Lewis: At least like Jaune I was trying. But you never listen.

Alyx: Look I understand but what’s the big deal? He got back to Remnant.

Pyrrha: Why?! Why did you do it?

Alyx: I mean… well… I… um….

Pyrrha: Alyx, understand, you have two deadly women on both sides of you. If you don’t give us a good explanation well…. I guess we’ll finally see if you can fall from heaven.

Alyx: Well I saw this vision and I didn’t like it.

Penny: Understood, what was the vision?

Alyx: Um… I *whisper* don’t remember.

Penny: You what?!

Alyx: I don’t remember okay?!

Pyrrha: What vision? Who’s vision?

Alyx: I don’t know. The writers didn’t give me anything. I saved him though. That counts, right?

Pyrrha: No. He just survived.

Penny: Plus your ‘help’ could give him problems down the road.

Alyx: Like what?

Me: I mean the fan base speaks for itself. I mean the guy hasn’t been in Remnant for years it’s going to be kind of hard for him to readjust. Not only that he has to recover from years of isolation, PTSD, trauma, and because of you he might as well also be having trust issues. Not only that he had to leave another friend behind. You and the Ever After might as have shattered him

Alyx: Oh Oum.

Pyrrha: Yeah. Oum can’t save you. Penny.

Penny: Way ahead of you.

Alyx: Wait you wouldn’t hurt an innocent black child right?

Pyrrha and Penny: ………..

Me: Alyx you heard the saying, “Equal rights equal fights.”

Alyx: Let’s say I don’t.

Me: No matter your race. No matter your sexuality. No more matter your gender or age. You made a choice to do what you do. And as a result of said choice you must face said consequences. Weither they be good or bad. Basically you may be a kid but you were grown enough commit murder. And as such-

Pyrrha: You have this coming.

Alyx: *crying* I’m sorry. I just wanted to home. Jaune had no idea how. So I did what ever took. And then the Cat betrayed me and I died. Please? Don’t hurt me!

Summer: Come now ladies. I know you’re both upset but-

Pyrrha: Ms. Rose! Shut up!

Summer: I’m sorry? Who are you talking to?

Pyrrha: You are a nobody. You have been irrelevant for a while now. You left your daughters and died. Your daughter ain’t shit. Your team is still disbanded even after you died. You might as well be an afterthought at this point.

Summer: Said the girl who’s only job was to run away.

Pyrrha: I went out in a blaze of glory. I proved myself. What the fuck have you done?

Summer: Um.

Penny: Friend Pyrrha I know I have no rights to talk.

Pyrrha: Damn straight. You suffered more than myself. All you had to do was live. Instead, you traumatized my man. He just got over me too. Why would you do that?

Penny: Okay, I’m sorry. But, he’s going to be fine now. Let’s just let her go. And we pray he gets better.

Pyrrha: Fine. You're lucky Alyx.

Alyx: Thank you. But I am sorry.

Pyrrha: Shut up. Oum damn. If this story continues he better get stronger and kill Cinder. Because this is stupid. I mean how much trauma does one guy need? How he is not a villain? I mean, come on, he can’t be like Yuji, he doesn’t have skills like that.

Penny: Well friend W-

Pyrrha: If you say her name I will end you.

Summer: Okay woah, it’s been nine volumes why are you mad about this?

Pyrrha: One; he deserves better. Two; I prefer your daughter or anyone else than her. Three; she’s fucking useless. And four; it took him being an old man for her to start liking him. Fuck that bitch.

Summer: Well like said, if you stayed alive then-

Pyrrha: If you stayed alive maybe Qrow would have stopped drinking. If you stayed alive maybe your baby daddy wouldn’t be in a state of depression. Maybe if you stayed alive you could help your daughter learn how to control her eyes and be less useless in fighting the Queen of Grimm.

Summer: That was uncalled for.

Pyrrha: Move along side character.