#Messages of the Most Precious Blood

[ego13]

LET ME IN YOUR OCEAN – YU JIMIN

now playing : chase atlantic - swim

SYNOPSIS : your mafia girl loves it too much when you bring her lunch to work (in fact, she doesn’t mind fucking you on her desk either.)

warnings : mafia!jimin, lesbian sex, service top!jimin, praise kink, hickeys, fingering sex in public places, pet names (princess, good girl, kitty).

pairing : yu jimin x fem!reader

you? oh, her favourite baby-girl, damn, jimin loves her girl too much, she loves to pamper you incredibly, because if this comes up in conversation, then yu does not hesitate to spend several million a day on her princess. expensive prada dresses, diamond necklaces and rings are what you literally swim in, bouquets of flowers, romantic dinners and then night walks in a black porsche with jimin - your daily routine, her hand on your thigh as you both silently drive through Seoul at night listening to your favorite playlist, during such moments it always seemed to you that there were only you two left in the world, and no one else

and if her girl wants it, jimin will buy the whole world for her, as long as it’s really just the two of you.

when you first saw her in the casino, you would never have thought that a cold-blooded member of the mafia could be such a gentle romantic, whose words always made your knees weak. one of the nicest things was that she was so close to you, she didn’t allow anyone to see her as tender except her princess, because you were the only one who truly deserved it. and the only downside of all this was the fact that she was often busy, although in a very interesting way she always made up for her guilt to you. a romantic dinner, another necklace and wonderful sex right against the wall in the hallway of your mansion is probably the best way for her to made it up.

waking up after another such evening, you realized that jimin was not next to him in bed, which made you slightly upset, after all, your desire to wake up in her arms, spending the whole morning sleepily hugging, alas, was cut short. you stretched, rubbing your eyes sleepily, reaching over to the bedside table and taking your phone off the charger, having unblocked it, the first thing you did was go into chat with yu, realizing that she didn’t even write about where and why it would be so early in the morning.

you : jiminnie? no good mornings? :(

you : i hope that you really have something important, because depriving me of morning hugs and breakfast in bed is a crime

just as you were about to get out of bed, several notifications came to your phone, and seeing the messages from yu, your face broke into a sleepy smile.

jim💘 : so sorry, princess, had to leave early, important meeting.

jim💘 : you know that i love you, princess?

jim💘 : i would never leave my precious girl without cuddles and kisses without reason.

jim💘 : i’ll be home in the evening, afterwards, expensive champagne and a delicious dinner, perhaps even a continuation in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, if I can’t restrain myself. i love u.

after reading the messages, you were mentally preparing for the upcoming evening, fuck, she knew exactly all your weak points, and knew where to hit so that you wouldn’t get angry. getting out of bed, you stretched again along the way, going into the kitchen, wanting to drink a glass of water, you noticed that you forgot to take lunch with you, which you carefully make every evening. a small pink lunchbox with hello kitty and a small love note is what jimin put in her black leather bag, and it made her heart beat faster every time.

you were a little upset, but you could put up with it, considering how flighty jimin can be sometimes, so you once again got excited about the idea of ​​going to her office to give lunch for her forgetful girlfriend. quickly getting dressed, you called the personal driver whom yu hired with the words 'my princess will not walk several kilometers on the asphalt every time with her beautiful legs so give me the most skilled driver'. the road was quite fast, and upon entering the large building, one of the bodyguards let you inside with a warm smile, personally escorting you to jimin's office.

knocking on the door several times, you opened it, seeing how she carefully rummages through documents in her damn sexy glasses, the way she looked made you turn into a waterfall every time you saw her. finally looking up from the papers, she smiled brightly, seeing her beloved girl.

"princess," getting up from the table, she took off her glasses and put them aside, she came closer to you, seeing a pink lunch box in your hands, "damn, I'm too forgetful and forgot my girl's lunch..." she awkwardly scratched the back of her head, taking it from your hands, placing it on the table, returning her gaze to you as her hands found their way to your hips, "you didn't have to drive halfway across town to see me, sweetheart, but I really fucking appreciate it, kitty..."

her lips carefully approached hers as your noses touched each other, finally pulling you into a slow and loving kiss, deepening the kiss, yu buried her head in the hair at the back of her head with one hand, and touched tour waist with the other hand. you hummed right into the kiss as she picked you up, moving her hands to her hips, and sat her on the table, settling between your legs. having stopped tormenting your lips, she lowered herself to your neck, while her free hand lifted your skirt, getting under your underwear, jimin began to slowly stimulate your clit, making circular movements, carefully watching your expression, searching for any hint of discomfort, “good girl... already so wet for me?"

your body kept shaking, and the thighs tried to close, but yu was standing between them, and did not allow this to happen. your hands fell on her shoulders, you pulled her closer, so close that ypu pressed herself against her, resting your head on her shoulder, her free hand nuzzled your thigh until her fingers finally slid inside you, causing you to let out a loud whine that was like honey to her ears, "just like that, you're doing so well, kitty, it feels like you were created for me to be inside you..."

yu's lips kissed your skin from your neck down, reaching the collarbones and leaving several purple marks there, again fell to her beloved neck, without ceasing to work with her fingers and feeling how your body began to tremble.

she felt with her fingers how the walls tightened around her fingers, enveloping and sucking, and in the next second a languid cry flew from your lips, which made her instinctively squeeze your waist tighter, not allowing you to fall off the table, on the contrary, helping you sit more comfortably, kissing your neck soothingly, enjoying the sight of the purple marks on your milky skin, "everything is fine, princess, my good girl..."

finally moving away from your neck, her hand combed the fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling, she liked seeing you like this too much, all excited, trembling from orgasm, while your hair stuck to your forehead and barely visible drops of sweat flowed from your temple.

"you know, after such a “lunch”, I’m no longer as hungry as before your arrival, you can come to me more often, I’ll be all for it."

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Down on all fours

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: After you unwillingly come clean about your undying love for Eddie Munson, your life is swept into a whirlwind of deceit, lust, confusion and regret… and glitter that Eddie can’t seem to shake from his pockets.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, reader referred to as girl, cheating/unfaithfulness, drugs mentioned (weed), mentions of blood, depictions of violence, cursing, bodily insecurity, implied sexual themes. Character are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @cafekitsune

The movie theatre would never be the same anymore— not to you. Not since that day. A place once associated with joy and child like wonder, where you watched your beloved characters come to life on the big screen and where you could laugh openly, unattractively and purely with your friends.

Tainted. Forever changed.

But not forgotten. Never forgotten.

The memories have been eating you alive, feasting on your insecurity and your shame. Despite the look of fearful regret on Eddie’s face, you still thought about him.

Day and night— morning and noon. Before you slept and before you awoke each morning. He even infiltrated your dreams. Dreams are meant to be sacred, private affairs and yet, Eddie Munson still ruled them like the King of all of your desires. His ring clad fingers were still clutching onto your heart— squeezing and loosening his grip around the vital organ as he saw fit. He had the upper hand; the control.

He always did. He always has.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them— any of them. Not Steve, not Robin, not Chrissy and especially not Eddie. It was peculiar, the addictive need to see Eddie no matter the cost— no matter the humiliation. It out weighed every sane thought you had.

You would steal glances at him from across a room, hiding in plain sight. Desperate for the shadows to claim you as their own; for the walls to hug you back. You felt other worldly, as if your soul was floating outside of your body and you had no rational feeling. No say. No voice.

Confessions should be freeing; but you have never felt so trapped. Chained. Soul tied.

Love conquers all, but love also might just conquer you.

-

It’s mid-week, and although college parties always attract unwanted attention you could never have prepared to see this many people crashing your family home. Precious photos were knocked over, the smashed glass from the frames line the top of shelves and cabinets- glittering them in a forbidden pixie dust.

Your bedroom has been occupied by a couple you didn’t recognise and if it weren’t for the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your blood you most certainly would have screamed at them to leave. The sicker parts of you were envious of their engagement. Their human closeness and connection.

Why couldn’t you have that? Didn’t you deserve that?

So instead of blowing your top, you roll your eyes and scoff before slamming the familiar door obnoxiously loud and coke to nest at the bottom of the staircase; the wood is hard and cold against your bare thighs which causes you to pay some uncomfortable attention to your outfit. Sparkly, twinkly and stupid.

Your heart sinks to the abysmal pit at the bottom of your stomach at the realisation that nobody here really knows what this party is for. Who it is for.

Your birthday streamers that once decorated the walls proudly have become unpinned from the concrete, cascading down the wall in a massive spiral and hiding the message written on the plastic.

Happy birthday!

Not a single person had uttered those words to you the whole night. Even on a day where you were meant- born to be celebrated, you have been forgotten. A bystander in your own life. An observer in a theatrical play written for you. About you.

And the humour of it all?

You were used to it now.

Nothing could break your heart; because it was already in pieces.

Shreds. Splinters. Fragments. Puzzle pieces never to be solved or mended again. A heart shaped hole stamped into your chest where someone once lived.

Cobwebs inhabit the vacant crevasse, dust gathering on the sensitive walls. The sensitive walls that have hardened into a volcanic crust.

The only thing left behind in your impenetrable fortress? A single crumpled envelope with Eddie’s name written on it in cursive. The ‘i’ in his name punctuated with a loveheart.

He was the only tenant you wanted living there. And in reality, he should have been evicted a long time ago.

But nobody said love was easy. Nobody warned you that it would be this hard, though, either.

Was love supposed to make you this low? Was it supposed to make you find your bearings at the bottom of a red fizzing cup? The carbonated bubbles in your drink seemed to be your only friend tonight.

Would it really be your birthday if you didn’t cry at least once? Or twice… or thrice.

“Hey! Does anyone have any weed?” Your quiet attempt at a yell comes out of your mouth in the form of a drunken hiccup and you are debating the possibility that you may have stood up too fast, “Anyone? No?” Frustrated you pinch the bridge of your nose as you sigh loudly into your hand, your ears met by silence from your peers.

“I might.” You can hear a comedic tweak in his voice and you swear you can feel part of you die on the inside.

“Steve,” You say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile, “I didn’t know you smoked?” You also weren’t aware that he would be here— but you can’t deny the attention that this party is demanding from the neighbourhood. You are partly surprised that the police haven’t been called yet, but your neighbours aren’t known to be snitches.

“I don’t usually,” he shrugs dismissively, “I didn’t know you were throwing a party? Thankfully word travels fast in this town, huh?” His elbow gently nudges into your arm playfully, “There’s no better time for me to give you this.” He hands you a small box that has been wrapped all too perfectly in a sage green wrapping paper; brought together with a pretty black tulle bow. For a moment you are totally stunned, eyes inflated as you gawk down at the gift in your slightly shaky hands.

“You…” you search for the words, lost in his kindness and when you finally gather enough courage to meet his sweet brown eyes you nearly drown in their depths, “You got me a gift?”

He flashes you one of his signature Steve smiles and your drunk brain can’t seem to comprehend if this is a joke of not.

“Of course I did? You’re one of my best friends!” His voice is a happy chime as he ruffles his fingers through his chestnut gelled hair, offering the stiff strands some movement. You notice his pupils flicking between your face and the present in your hands, one of his eyebrows raise with subtle confusion, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, of course!” You set your empty cup down on a nearby table before your nimble fingers come to wrestle with the sticky tape, painted fingernails clawing like an animal to get to the goods inside. There is a nervousness that comes with the unwrapping of the gift and you don’t quite understand why. The moment feels significant… special. You finally feel somewhat special tonight.

Eagerly, Steve keeps his warm amber eyes trained on you. A soft, dreamy smile itching at his lips as he awaits your approval. You and Steve had been friends for such a long time, you even opened your college acceptance letters together in his family dining room with his parents. He had always been there for you, through everything. One of your best friends— possibly your only friend.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while— how have you been?” His voice is laced with genuine concern but all you can do is ogle at what is displayed in front of you. A shiny silver necklace that had been personalised to have your name dangling from the chain with small colourful charms decorating the metal plating sit inside of the small box that Steve had handed to you. It was beautiful. It was you. And not to mention… it perfectly matched your outfit.

“Shut up!” You gasp, picking up the chain from the safety of its box and dangling it in front of Steve’s face, the neon stream of lights from the party reflect off of its pristine surface, “Steve!! What the Hell? This is stunning!” You become a fit of excited girlish giggles and Steve shakes his head at your outburst, finding it adorable.

“You like it?” He is booming to be heard over the increasingly loud music and you squeal, fumbling with the latch on the chain.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much!” You reach around your neck, fighting to clip the necklace and Steve offers you a helping hand accompanied by an amused chucklez, “It’s perfect, Steve, truly! I love it, I love it!” You brush your hair over your shoulder, allowing Steve to access the chain and clasp it securely.

“There! Pretty as a picture.” He winks at you and you toy with your name displayed across your chest; an honest smile gracing your lips.

“Happy birthday.” His large palm rubs the flesh of your shoulder and you nod at him in acknowledgement. There is an after glow that lingers after Steve’s touch disappears and you are not even aware of where he wanders off to but when you realise that you are stood alone… you feel that all too familiar feeling start to creep it’s way back into your chest. An icy chill. A storm brewing.

“Steve?” You call out to him, however your voice is wasted with how small it was and goes totally unnoticed. Your eyes drink in the sea of dancing, sweating bodies around you. The number of people in your home is multiplying— like a deathly virus.

The perky smile falls from your cheeks and only then do you remember why you were even talking to Steve in the first place— you wanted some weed. You needed some.

Or did you?

You wanted to escape life. To feel free from the bounds of Eddie Munson, free from the shackles of your mind. This is the only way you knew how… sleep wasn’t an option— he could reach you there.

Even the darkest corners of your mind, where even the ghosts refused to venture, were haunted by Eddie— there was no fleeing from him. You were his.

But he was Chrissy’s.

-

You find yourself outside, sitting in the cool night air by the side of your house. Your face is flushed from the alcohol and your skin feels as though it is prickling with heat; fiery.

Your mini skirt hugs your hips and thighs and you fist the fabric, suddenly uncomfortable with the way your body looks in the garment. The way the flesh of your thighs squish the ground beneath you has you stifling a scream and you wrap your arms tightly around your torso to shield the rest of your body from the world.

Your eyes flicker and blaze with the mirrored light from the street lamps, the orange hues meeting the chunky glitter that dominates your eyelids. The heavy makeup was starting to irritate your eyes, but you would do anything to seem half presentable. Anything to feel and look your best.

A choked laugh emits past your lips; it was ludicrous. How you had been exiled from your own birthday party. Left to the wolves of the wild. You didn’t mind too much— it meant you could finally take off this weighty mask you had been hiding behind all night. No more untruthful smiles, no more biting back teary eyes.

You could finally feel. And breathe.

However, your reign of peace and solitude doesn’t last long as your ears perk involuntarily at an all too recognisable thundering chuckle. This whole time, you had been preparing for him to show face and yet you have never felt so startled. A deer in headlights.

The chains around your wrists tighten as you stiffen, unable to move. Unable to respond or breathe or think.

Eddie had arrived.

“Woooah! Lookie’ here! If it isn’t the birthday girl,” Even in the dim light of the garden you can see his Cheshire smile examining you, “What you doing out here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Your breath remains lodged tightly in your throat, wound up like a coiled spring and you are unable to speak. It’s almost as if you are paralysed— has he hit you with a tranquillising dart? Or was that just his cologne that had you so wrapped up in everything that he is.

He called you sweetheart…

He called you sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

His sweetheart?

“Hello? Are you okay?” His hand waves in front of your face, causing you to blink and flinch momentarily at the sudden action, “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“No…” a whisper is all you could manage. It’s all you could afford to give him.

There wasn’t much of you left to give. Soon you would be this vacant polished shell of a human being— beautiful on the outside and hopeless on the inside.

“Okay, well… Happy birthday.” He nods at you enthusiastically, his voice like a siren song lulling you to your demise. He shoves his hands into his ripped jeans pockets, letting out an exaggerated shiver before he says, “Hey, have you seen Chrissy? She came here an hour ago and I haven’t really heard from her.” He tries to disguise the worry in his voice, but you can read him like a book. The way his hands are twitching from his pockets to rub anxiously at his neck, or how he bounces on the balls of his feet— the adrenaline causing him to be restless.

You wish Eddie could do the same with you. You wish he could see past this makeup and this charade. You wish he could recognise just how much that simple sentence had ruined your evening.

Of course he was here looking for Chrissy, why else would he have showed up? For you? Please. The thought alone was laughable.

“I didn’t even know she was here.” Your chin tilts to your shoulder where you can eye the large window looking on into your kitchen. The lights are out but there are neon fairy lights twinkling and illuminating the darkness. It’s almost as if you are looking through a kaleidoscope.

It had taken you hours to hang all of those lights, only to watch other people enjoy their warmth instead.

“You should come back inside, you don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun out here in the dark.” Eddie takes a leisurely seat next to you and out of instinct you shuffle a few inches away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible, “Are you wasted? You’re being eerily quiet.”

“It’s a party, Eddie.” You sigh, answering him without leaving a single beat, an abrupt newfound confidence helps you to untangle your voice, “People get drunk at parties— I just wish I had some weed.”

It was ironic, wishing for weed as you talk to a weed dealer.

“Is that really your birthday wish? To have weed?” His shoulders bounce lightly as he laughs, his hands coming to find his coat pocket. You shrug in response to his question, tipping your head back and swallowing the last of what was left swirling around in the bottom of your cup.

The truth was, you hadn’t even lit your birthday candles yet. There hadn’t been a right time and you didn’t want to be that person. But if you had sparked those candles… you would have wished for him.

Not for weed. Not for money. Not for beauty or brains.

You would have wished for Eddie Munson.

“Here.” He is careful to take your hand into his, gently prying your fingers open and dropping a bud of weed into your palm before he is securing your fingers back over it, “It isn’t much, I know that but… if I could make your birthday wish a reality then I suppose that’s pretty alright, huh?” He holds your wrist loosely in his grip and your fuzzy brain can’t compute if you are dreaming or not.

You had expected fireworks from his touch— a massive explosion of technicolour and bright blinding lights.

But what you got was far more sensual than that. An electric shockwave travelled along your skin from your arm to your back, zapping down every vertebrae in your spine and coating your body in a blanket of goosebumps. Every single one of your hairs stood on end and this might have been the most alert you have felt all day. You felt awake. Resurrected. Alive.

“Are you sure?” You gulp, mouth suddenly dry, “I can pay you…” You start to frantically search your person for any sign of loose cash— your bra, did your skirt have pockets this morning? No. Where the Hell is your purse?

“No- no! This is a gift, from me to you! It’s your birthday for crying out loud!” Eddie is holding both of your wrists now, his attempt to still your nervous jittery movements, “Just enjoy it, okay? Just… just smile.” His deep pleading voice is painful as it enters your ears.

Just smile.

Smile? Weren’t you smiling?

“Thank you…” up until this point you hadn’t fully perceived just how close of a proximity you and Eddie were nestled at. His slight body leaning in closer to yours, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was within kissing distance and all you could do now was stare at his dimpled smile. The sight alone was enough to cause your own lips to tweak up at the corners.

“Do you know how to roll a joint?” Eddie could evidently sense the growing tension and he pulls away from you, not in a moment of disgust and terror— but out of respect. Attraction was clear but Eddie was like a loyal dog to Chrissy. There’s no way he would betray her.

“Oh- uhm… no, no I don’t.” You laugh slightly as you look down at the drugs held captive in your hand. Your skin being tinged with the ponging smell.

“Luckily for you, I’m a bit of a master at it.”

“Eddie?” A whimper. A whisper. Weak. Sorrow filled.

“Yeah?” His heavenly eyes had you questioning why thieves ever bothered to steal art— when you were looking at a masterpiece.

A pause. Nothingness. Expectation. Shadows.

“Why do you hate me?” The question is shuddered out through constricted teeth and you find an ungodly comfort in that familiar ache inside of your sternum, “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you-“

“But you don’t love me. You don’t… like me.” You push your feet into the soft earth, coming to stand shakily in front of Eddie’s seated frame, “Every time I look at you, I can't help but hope you feel the same butterflies in your stomach when you look back at me.” Your eyes settle on the empty street, the only noise circulating the neighbourhood was coming from inside your house. Thumping bass beating in harmony with your heart, “But deep down, I know all you feel is pity."

“That isn’t true and you’re being cruel.” Eddie launches to his feet, darting to stand in front of you, “Where is this coming from? If I have hurt you, I assure you that it was never my intention— I could never hurt you purposely.”

“You didn’t have to purposely hurt me, Ed’s. All I had to do was sit back and watch you love someone else. Someone better than me… that was enough to break my spirit.”

A disruption shakes the interior of your house, a commotion surfacing and you can hear the cheers and whistles from your peers. Eddie clocks it as well, and you can see a panic distort his puppy like features.

“Please can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober and… and we can both just figure this out? Please?” His hands find your shoulders, holding you steady as his chocolate orbs bear into yours. His attention is on you, but you can tell that his feet are ready to sprint indoors.

Quietly, you nod. Anything to please him. Anything to make him happy. Plus— you were also intrigued as to what was happening behind in you. Whatever it was, it had stirred up a whirlwind.

Eddie is quick to leave your side, like a whippet released onto a race track, taking the porch steps two at a time and you are hot on his heels. You are clumsy in your kitten heeled shoes, but you are right behind him.

‘I’ll follow thee and make a Heaven of a Hell.

To die upon the hand I love so well.’

William Shakespeare, Helena

-

“What’s going on?” You stagger into the shoulder of a Frat member, whispering an inaudible apology as he turns to glare down at you. Though, after he takes in your appearance his solid and annoyed expression softens into amusement and what you can only assume as blind lust.

“Harrington and Cunningham got caught banging in the bathroom— can’t believe you missed it! It was fucking priceless.” He drapes his heavy muscular arm over your shoulders and your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his weight pressing down on you.

“What?” You peek up at him through your eyelashes, clearly dazed. You have to make sure— you have to hear him say it again.

“Cunningham? Chrissy?” He is laughing rudely into your face and your nose scrunches distastefully at the stench of beer on his breath, “And Steve Harrington! They were fucking! He had her bent over the bathroom sink, man! His hands full of her hair— pretty sure the mirror is gonna be covered in lipstick!” Finally he unhooks his arm from around your neck and you feel like you may just float up to the ceiling.

You push away from him, using his massive hulking body to propel you further into the mob, your eyes desperate to find Eddie in the crowd. And when you do… it’s ugly.

Anguish, rage, indecision and fear blaze in Eddie’s tear glossed eyes. The gears inside of his head were working like clockwork and you knew where this was about to go as he stares murderously at Steve. Jaw wired tightly shut, nostrils flaring into bullet sized holes and fists so punishingly rigid that you can see the bones of his knuckles straining against his skin; turning his skin to a snow like shade of white.

Steve descends from the top of the staircase alone. His hair is tossed into a messy heap upon his sweat soaked head and you can read from his slumped and lazy stance alone that Steve is totally gone. His hands grasp the bannister, clinging onto the wood for dear life in hopes that he won’t fall down the steep steps.

“Eddie- no, don’t do it!” You try to move toward him as quickly as your boozy brain would allow, but it’s too late. Eddie is flying toward Steve like a bat out of Purgatory.

Time appears to speed up as you watch the violence unfold in front of you alongside the rest of chanting crowd. Eddie has smashed Steve against the wall by the collar of his shirt and you swear you hear some sort of cracking noise come from concrete from the connection of Steve’s back hurling into the plasterboard.

“Fuck! Guys, stop it!” Not only are you terrified of Steve getting beat to a pulp— but your parents would kick you out of the house if things got tarnished beyond repair. And that includes the paint work.

A brutish punch thrown by Eddie bursts Steve’s cheek open and you squeal in horror at the stream of pure gore that spurts from the gnarly wound, “Jesus Christ, Eddie!!” Marching up the staircase you wedge yourself between the two men and Eddie’s movements still. He allowed himself one punch. One good punch, as a warning and also as a courtesy. He didn’t want to frighten you and he also didn’t want to take advantage of Steve’s inebriated state.

One punch is all he needed to satisfy the sickening anger bubbling within him.

And then he fled— like a killer at a crime scene.

“Eddie! Wait- fuck!!” You curse, your hands finding your hair as you tug on the roots of the delicate strands. You are beyond stressed. All you can do is watch as Eddie weaves his way through the mosh pit of bodies who had all quickly gone back to dancing— like nothing had happened.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Steve blubbers next to you and you turn to him, your eyes widened with shock and distress but it doesn’t take long for your glare to become vexing.

“What did you do, Harrington?! If you weren’t already bleeding right now I would slap you in your goddamn face!” Your grip on him is scolding and hurried as you manage to help him down to rest on one of the wooden steps, your eyes unable to waver from the crimson leaking gash on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” His face rests in his hands as he breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. And just as you prepare to give him a bollocking of a life time, Chrissy emerges from sanctuary of the top floor, desperately trying to rescuer her bra straps back onto your shoulders. Her clothes are twisted sloppily around her body and she, too, is undoubtedly, totally, 110% fucking hammered.

Both your and the blondes eyes meet and your lips pinch downwards into a frown. Your head shakes disapprovingly and your mind is clouded with nervy thoughts for Eddie’s wellbeing and all you can conjure up to say to the dishevelled woman is;

“How the fuck did this happened?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out  a syringe  and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe  in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe  now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe  inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe  on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hi lovely. Can you please do mafia Charles and he’s very protective over reader who’s younger than him and maybe his enemies hurt her and he goes crazy or smth — F1driverszona

Protection

babe asked so she shall receive, I swear I’ve never written a fic this quickly I hope y’all’s like it 🎀

*Perceval*

You know how you look at someone and feel your heart swell with pride and joy? That was how Charles was feeling the exact moment he saw his pretty little girlfriend get her bachelors degree. She looked so gorgeous in the white outfit he had picked with her, so pure and innocent.

Charles genuinely wondered how she hadn’t noticed all the security that constantly followed him. How was he only 27 with an entire estate under his name? It really made Charles ponder. Maybe she noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up.

Regardless, he was the proudest person in the room, eyes beaming with glee as she threw her cap up in the air with joy enriched onto her face. With her only being 20, their relationship was the root of all the gossip in town.

It was strange, really. 7 years wasn’t that bad. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him the most. He never let such thoughts bother him, especially since he was running one of the most discreet underground mafia. Charles knew the risk of getting her involved in his life. He knew that she would forever be tangled in his dirty business, whether she knew it or not. He hated the way that she drew in people with her charm and charisma.

In Charles' world, more attention meant a higher probability of ending up dead. Just thinking about something happening to her made his blood boil. She’d never be harmed. Little did Charles know that pissing off the Russian Mafia came with its drawbacks. The Russians played fast and dirty. They’d attack where it hurts the most. Due to their undercover agent in her university, they knew exactly who she was. Every little detail from the timings she enters and exits the university to the car that comes to pick and drop her.

The Russians were smart, very smart. They knew the best way to hurt Charles was to hurt his girl. They knew kidnapping would not work as she was heavily guarded at all times. So they came up with a public declaration of war. They were going to attack her at her graduation ceremony, in front of everyone, and most importantly, Charles.

This was their way to send a message. Frankly, ever since y/n and Charles started dating, he was ignoring his priorities with the mafia and appointed most of the tasks to Kyviat, who turned out to be a traitor. Some may say Charles’s lack of attention caused him to lose the most important person in his life. Just as they called out her name, the first shots fired. Almost in an instant, Charles whipped his head so fast you could hear a bone crack. He knew this was planned. He prayed and hoped deep down it wasn’t a message for him. He knew Alonso’s daughter also went here and selfishly hoped it was for him.

All his prayers fell on deaf ears when he saw his precious angel falling, almost in slow motion, with her white dress that he loved oh so much turning ever so red with each passing second. He knew he messed up. He had so much love he still needed to show her. The engagement ring in his pocket felt like hot coal, burning him almost taunting him painfully. He had everything planned out, each moment, each step. He never expected her to be ripped out of his arms. He had destroyed homes and families.

He knew he had unpaid karma. And just when he started becoming a better person, he had to pay his karma in full. They say the day she bled out in his arms was the day hell froze all over again. Each of her deep and labored breaths haunted his soul for the rest of his life. He still had days where he could imagine her next to him. If people thought Charles was cruel before the shooting, they would be very wrong.

Seeing the love of his life lying still on a ventilator enraged a different type of devil in him. He hunted each and everyone involved in the shooting like he was hunting animals. He shot, stabbed, burned, bleached, skinned, and mutilated each and everyone. It was borderline psychotic. By day, a doting boyfriend in the ICU. By night, a cold-blooded killer on the loose.

Each morning when he returned, he would utter the same words over and over again, “ça aurait dû être moi, pas toi, ça aurait dû être moi, ma chérie, pas toi. je suis désolé je suis désolé.”

Charles had lost it. More than ever, his reign of terror only ended when she opened her eyes again. He never touched another gun or affiliated with the mafia ever again.

The both of them found a safe haven in the Swiss Alps, only returning to Monaco when everything was over, Charles becoming the most protective person ever known to have lived. His large hand placed on her ever prominent belly. Monaco saw the aftermath of what happens when you mess with Charles Leclercs wife. That was the only incident that ever involved y/n. Charles made sure of it after all she was his and he protected what was his. His overprotective nature plus his power made sure she was safe.

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

au where the Riley family lives and simon gets into some Deep Shit™️ with some sort of group, whether it’s cartel or a terror org or what have you. And despite his and price’s and laswell’s best efforts, even the most privileged information eventually makes its way to the highest bidder. Which means that when this amorphous Group wants to hurt the ghost, they go after his most tender weak point.

They snatch Joseph Riley on his way home from school one day, and he’s terrified. He knows what his uncle does (vaguely and highly sanitized), enough for a kid his age to understand the gravity of the situation. So he has some idea of what’s about to happen.

Joseph doesn’t really have a good gauge on the passing of time, trapped in a dank, moldy cell in the ground with a single dirty window that doesn’t let in much light. The cuffs around his wrists are too tight, chafing against the thin skin. He’s hungry, thirsty, tired, but not scared. Okay, he’s a little scared but not as scared as he should probably be. Because he knows that come hell or high water, Uncle Simon is on his way.

That is, until the Group gets tired of waiting for Ghost to make a move and decide to send a message. They grab Joseph by the scruff and drag him out of the cell he’d memorized every inch of through the building. Joseph doesn’t know what’s happening, but whatever it is can’t be good.

And it isn’t. The door they come to is large, looks like it’s solid steel but with a weird sheen to it. There are claw marks digging into the frame and the ground. And a low, persistent growl echoes from behind the metal. Before Joseph can even think to speak, to beg for his life, one of the men unlocks the door, throws Joseph to the ground, and slams it shut behind him.

He falls in a crumpled heap, panting and coughing into the darkness around him. And then he freezes. Because the room is silent. The growl is gone. With the last bit of courage he has, he lifts his head from the dirty, iron-smelling floor and locks eyes with two bright blue irises glowing in the dark.

He’s heard stories of the wolves before, caught somewhere between man and monster. Some had come from Uncle Simon, some where rumors floated around school, some were just stories told to scare children. The stories all talked about the ferocious majesty of wolves, massive frames and thick fur and pearly white, razor sharp fangs.

This wolf is entirely unlike those stories. In the barely-there light leaking through the seam of the door, he can see just how bad the wolf is. His fur is ragged and hanging off his skeletal frame. Barely healed scars cut deep gouges into his face and flanks. And his eyes have no keen intelligence left, just base animal instinct. He’s watching Joseph silently, unmoving.

Joseph knows the wolf is starving, and he’s the unwilling lamb led to slaughter.

But the wolf doesn’t pounce. He inches forward, nosing gently at the bruises and scratches on Joseph’s face. He whines quietly when Joseph hisses from the movement. And he herds Joseph away from the door towards a tangled pile of dirty blankets and straw, curling around his shivering body with eyes pinned to the locked door.

Wolves are pack animals, and werewolves are no exception. When one werewolf soldier Sergeant MacTavish was drugged and captured, the Group thought they had themselves a mindless killing machine. They thought they could throw a child at a lonely, feral wolf and send the Ghost a gruesome message. They either didn’t know or didn’t care that pups, no matter the species, are precious to the pack. They gave Soap a pup, and he would protect that pup with his life.

(And when Ghost bursts into the cell not long after, blood soaked and wild eyed, he doesn’t expect to see his nephew, alive and relatively unharmed, with a massive guard dog curled around him. He doesn’t expect that guard dog to change back into a man. And he doesn’t expect that guard dog to stick around once he’s back on his feet, sticking to his side like he’s got no where better to be.)

[sp4ceboo]

SNIPPET FOR MY UPCOMING BAKUGOU FIC!!

genre: merfolk au, fantasy au, merman!bakugou x witch!reader, strangers to lovers, bakugou x f!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: in a world infested with purgers of magic, neither a clandestine witch nor a lone merman can remain safe for long.

tw for snippet: gore, blood, mention of death (fic will be 18+)

UPDATE: READ IT HERE

With a rusty squeal, the door swings wide, and with it comes the same influx of light that always spills greedily through, stinging your eyes and making them ache - the doing of a tiny, wayward star moulded from precious lamp oil. You blink away the tears that well up at your lash line, testament to your accustomation to the dark, and then blink again. Back when you took for granted the warmth of the sun on your face, you lived too far inland to ever see one in the flesh. You were still a witch under the disguise of a healer, though. You’d heard tales, seen artists’ renderings and gorey body parts wrenched off as trophies. None of those could have ever come close to preparing you for the sight before your eyes. A merman. Deep in enemy territory - so deep, in fact, that all those surrounding him, bar you, have murdered more than dozens of his kind each. He is on a galleon rammed bow to stern with killers. And yet, despite it, he has not fallen victim to the purge. Yes, there is a splintered harpoon sunken into his side, yes, he is limp and broken, but even so, shallowly, his chest rises and falls. He breathes. He breathes, and even that is beautiful. The lamp’s light reflects off his scales; he is mainly jet black, but broad swathes of orange run across the length of his powerful tail like they were drawn with the loving stroke of a painter’s brush. In parts, they darken into a ruby red that glitters and winks as the lamp light dances. Or maybe that’s just blood. There’s a lot of it. It soaks into the sheet they strain to carry between them, pools in the dip his weight makes, streaks in smears down his chest and face, coats his hands and is embedded under his sharp nails. You hope that all of it is not his, that he made them regret whatever they must have done to get a merman vulnerable enough and far enough from his pod to capture him. Deep lacerations cut all along his chest and tail, and one of the spines that extend from his sail-like dorsal fin is bent in a way that must mean it is broken. A smattering of scales reach wide across his shoulders and back and down his arms, some of them twisted and bent out of shape. Your eyes fall to the harpoon buried just below his hip, and you feel the bite of your nails digging into your palms. “Heal it,” commands the man holding the corner of the sheet closest to you. “We’ve been ordered to bring back a merfolk to be studied. It must be in peak condition.”

and yeah. so that's what i've been working on recently, it will be over 10k and most likely under 20k and im sO EXCITED!!

there will be a taglist, so if you want to be on it just reply to this post or message me or whatever is easiest :))

praying this reaches the right audience

[darlinluxx]

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of blood

summary : you and your girlfriend have a horror movie marathon, but you aren’t the biggest fan of them

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he popcorn is overflowing, a buttery mountain threatening to spill onto the already cluttered coffee table. you’re nestled into the couch, a soft blanket pulled up to your chin, trying to look like you’re not as terrified as you actually are. next to you, Saebyeok is practically vibrating with anticipation, her eyes already glued to the screen as the opening credits of the horror movie begin to roll.

you’d known this was coming, of course. a horror movie marathon had been Saebyeok’s idea, and it had come with a glint in her eye that you knew all too well — that mischievous, slightly devious look that meant she was about to indulge in one of her favorite things. and while she knew you weren’t exactly a fan of jump scares and demonic possessions, she’d promise it would be “fun.”

right now, the only thing that feels fun is the reassuring weight of her hand, warm and calloused, pressed against your thigh. you glance at her profile, her face illuminated by the flickering screen. she’s completely absorbed, a tiny smile playing on her lips as the ominous music builds.

you, on the other hand are already feeling a cold knot forming in the pit of your stomach. the image of blood coming from god knows where out of somebody in the movie flashes on the screen. you flinch, burying yourself deeper into the blanket. a small, chuckle rumbles from Saebyeok’s chest.

“scared already?” she teases, her voice a low murmur.

you try to play it cool. “of course not,” you reply, a little too quickly. “just appreciating the… ambience.”

Saebyeok lets out a soft laugh, finding your reaction endearing. the movie progresses, getting even more horrifying then you could imagine. you feel yourself shrinking further and further into the couch, your eyes squeezing shut during the more gruesome scenes. you hear Saebyeok gasp in delight at one particular moment, the sound a mix of fascination and something akin to glee that only she seems to experience with these kinds of films.

you feel a reassuring squeeze on your thigh, and you peek out from the blanket. Saebyeok is looking at you, a soft smile on her face. “it’s okay,” she whispers, her voice a low rumble that sends a comforting shiver down your spine. “just look at me.”

you do. you stare up at her dark eyes, the way the light dances in them, the gentle curve of her lips. it’s grounding, a lifeline in the swirling sea of nightmares on the screen. you lean closer to her, seeking the warmth of her presence.

the movie ends, the credits rolling again. you feel a small sigh of relief slip from your lips. you thought it was over when Saebyeok reaches for the remote. “next one.” she said, and you realize your ordeal is far from over.

a pant or familiar dread settles in your stomach as the title card for the next movie appears. you manage a weak smile, but inside you’re screaming. Saebyeok notices your apprehension, her gaze softening.

this time, she doesn’t sit beside you, instead she wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until you’re practically nestled into her side. her presence is a comforting weight, a solid barrier against the rising tide of terror.

as the terrifying events unfold on screen, you find yourself glancing at Saebyeok more than the actual film. you’re still scared, yes, but your fear is somehow lessened, tempered by the warmth and security you find in her embrace.

by the third movie, something shifts. maybe it’s the fact that Saebyeok is holding you close like you’re the most precious thing in the world, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re starting to recognize the patterns, the familiar tropes of the genre. you’re less tense, less prone to jumping.

by the time the sun begins to peak over the horizon, painting the room in a soft orange glow, you two are both exhausted. your eyelids feel heavy, and you’re curled up completely on Saebyeok’s lap. finally, the last credit rolls.

Saebyeok leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “so,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep, “did you have fun?”

you look up at her, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips. “surprisingly,” you admit, “i actually did.”

and it was the truth. looking back on the night, it wasn’t the most terrifying images on the screen that stood out. it was the warmth of her hand, the soft rumble of her laughter, the feeling of her presence wrapping around you like a warm blanket. it was enduring the fear together, hand in hand, or rather, cuddled together on the couch.

even if you still prefer romantic comedies, you know you’ll do this again for her. because with Saebyeok, even the scariest of nights become something a little less terrifying, a little more bearable, and a little bit fun.

[yandereunsolved]

tw: yandere themes, murder, gore, minor suggestive themes

yandere James Patrick March who saw you walking through his hotel halls and had to have you all for himself.

yandere James Patrick March who threatens every entity in his hotel. If anyone so much as touches a hair on your head, they'll end up with a second death at the hands of a suave psychotic mass murderer.

yandere James Patrick March who leaves parts of dead bodies at your door as a present— like how a cat gives their owner a mouse as a sign of affection.

yandere James Patrick March who writes the most intimate and goery love letters to you. He signs off his initials 'JPM' with the blood of his victims. The longer he does it, the more likely it is that he's signed it with his own blood.

yandere James Patrick March who doesn't let you leave, even if you don't realize why. Oh, you are in the city for only a night? Suddenly, everyone you love and care about is sending you text messages about how they don't need how— how you should stay there. You can't pay? The mysterious owner of the hotel has waved all the fees. Your stay is free as long as you are here. Need a job?The hotel has a position has a maid. It's so easy. You barely have any rooms to clean. Are you scared of the hotel? Every ghost (and the handful of living people) are incredibly nice to you. They treat you like a god(dess).

yandere James Patrick March who watches you from the shadows. Whether you be searching for the ice machine or just exploring. He's always there. His eyes analyzing you like a predator who found their favorite prey. He's memorized every curve of your body and every preference of yours.

yandere James Patrick March who protects you while you explore. He's possessive. He's gotta make sure the Countess doesn't get her hands on you. He's gotta make sure that no ghost touches you. He's gotta make sure. Just incase.

yandere James Patrick March who refuses to reveal himself to you as of yet. He adores watching those cogs in your mind turn.

yandere James Patrick March who is obsessed with watching your complex range of emotions. Happiness. Sadness. Anger. Fear. Love. Lust. Adoration. Obsession. Need. Carnal need. All those precious, precious feelings. He needs to see all of those emotions on your delectable little features.

yandere James Patrick March who buys his darling the most expensive delicacies the world can offer. He places them right in front of you when you aren't looking. They always have bloody utensils with them. Just to remind you who it is that you belong to. What he is able to do to anyone that crosses the either of you.

yandere James Patrick March who always kills his victims in your vicinity. When you are sleeping he kills one of them in the next room. It makes his blood pump— thinking about that fearful expression you must be making. That small quiver on your addictive lips that he has not yet had the pleasure to taste. How tempting you must look in your night clothes. Of course, he's a gentleman. He makes sure that you get enough sleep beforehand. He doesn't want his precious jewel having sleep deprivation.

yandere James Patrick March who reveals himself to you right after a fresh kill. Blood is dripping down his bare chest, his pants are slightly unbuttoned, and his boxers are hugging his v-line. He flashes you his award winning smile. He gets down on one knee and presents you with the heart of his latest victim.

yandere James Patrick March who allows himself to indulge in your horrified shrieks. Who wants nothing more than to take you right then and there. Who wants to see the blood all over both of your bodies. Who wants to leaves long lasting marks that will scar you physically and mentally.

yandere James Patrick March who confesses this undying love to you in that very moment. He wants nothing more than to have you in his grasp— hugging, kissing, cuddling, choking, cutting, killing... and everything else in-between.

yandere James Patrick March who will never force himself upon you. He will preach his undying love and manipulate you, but never soil you with unwanted touches. Perhaps a few cuts, though. He sees those things as vastly different.

yandere James Patrick March who left you quickly as he came. He placed the heart on your bed and was gone in the blink of an eye.

yandere James Patrick March who periodically visits you from then on. Sometimes he gifts you things and others he does his best to spark up conversations.

yandere James Patrick March who will gladly threaten you with a weapon to get you to talk to him. He would actually be over the moon. Your fear is intoxicating to him. It makes him all giddy inside. He feels alive.

yandere James Patrick March who always gets that high from you. That special feeling he so zealously covets. That thing that trumps that special high he gets when killing. He's addicted. Addicted to you and your very presence.

yandere James Patrick March who will invite you to private dinners. Who will wear his finest clothing. Then he addresses your concerns and fully tells you everything. He tells you of how he has courted you and of how he confessed his love. He speaks with hearts in his eyes. If you disagree or break his trance... your inevitable death will come much sooner than expected.

yandere James Patrick March who then demands you cut off contact with anyone who presents as male. He doesn't want anyone having a chance with you. He's almost like a toddler in that way. A murderous toddler with a mustache.

yandere James Patrick March who is a dangerous man who lusts after power. A man that has only one weakness— you being able to step out of the hotel. This is only a momentary weakness. Another step in his plan. Do not play the 'I can leave and you can't' card too many times. Lest it fall from your hand and James picks it up.

yandere James Patrick March who immediately moves you into his, now your..., private suite.

yandere James Patrick March who leaves different pieces of clothing he'd like to see you in on your shared bed.

yandere James Patrick March who asks you how he should kill his next victim.

yandere James Patrick March who is ready to make you his eternal bride/groom/partner.

yandere James Patrick March who always makes sure not to scare you too much. His version of too much, mind you. At least until he's trapped you in here for all eternity with him. There's no need for him to rush things. He has all the time in the world.

[strnilolover]

⋆.˚ Reset Button .ᐟ

Warnings : some cussing, rage quitting, pet names (baby, sweetheart), fluff

A/N : I’ve literally been wanting to play Minecraft for so long but can’t find the motivation to play, and every-time i want to play, i have the urge to start a whole new world. anyways…you slightly rage quitting at Minecraft but matt being the sweetest <3

The familiar pixelated landscape of Minecraft filled the screen in front of you, and your eyes were narrowed in concentration as you ventured deeper into a dark cave system.

Your inventory was filled with treasures you had worked hard to collect: iron, gold, and, most importantly, a handful of diamonds. It had taken hours of exploring to get this far, and you had even fought off a horde of mobs to secure these precious resources.

Your heart pounded as you navigated the narrow pathways, carefully placing torches to light the way and ward off any lurking monsters. The eerie sounds of the cave echoed in your headphones—creaks, groans, the distant hiss of a creeper.

You could feel your nerves building up, but you were determined to make it back to your base safely. And then you heard it—a faint clattering sound that sent a chill down your spine.

A skeleton.

Before you could react, an arrow whizzed past your character, landing with a dull thud against the stone wall. Panic set in as you spun around, trying to locate the source. The skeleton emerged from the darkness, its bony frame moving with precision as it pulled back another arrow. Your health bar dropped with each hit, and you felt the tension rise in your chest.

“No, no, no!” you shouted, your heart racing as you tried to block and retreat at the same time. You fumbled with the controls, your fingers slipping as you tried to eat something—anything—to regain health. The skeleton kept advancing, each arrow knocking you further into a corner.

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, your vision focused entirely on the screen. The screen flashed red as another arrow hit, and your heart sank when you realized you had nowhere left to run.

One last shot, and your character crumpled to the ground, your inventory spilling out across the cave floor. The dreaded “You Died!” message appeared across the screen, and you stared at it in disbelief.

“No!” you yelled, louder this time, the frustration boiling over. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Stupid fucking skeleton!”

In a fit of rage, you threw the controller onto the couch, the soft impact barely satisfying as you clenched your hands into fists. It wasn’t just the game—it was everything.

The hours of progress lost, the carefully collected diamonds now scattered, all because of one stupid skeleton. Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

From the other room, Matt had been minding his own business, scrolling through his phone when he heard your shout. His head snapped up, concern etched across his face. He pushed himself up from where he was sitting and made his way to your room, knocking lightly before pushing the door open.

“Hey, everything okay in here?” he asked, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you—sitting on the couch, arms crossed, a deep frown on your face, your cheeks flushed in frustration.

You looked over at him, still fuming. “No, m’ not okay,” you huffed, gesturing towards the screen. “I died. I lost everything. Stupid skeleton shot me, and now all my stuff is gone.”

Matt’s eyes shifted to the screen, taking in the “You Died!” message still plastered across it. He tried to stifle a smile, but it was no use—he found your gaming frustration far too adorable.

He walked over to where you were sitting, plopping down beside you on the couch. “A skeleton, huh?” he said, nudging you playfully. “That’s rough baby.”

You shot him a glare, though it lacked real heat. “Don’t make fun of me,” you grumbled. “It’s just so annoying! I had so many diamonds, and now they’re gone. I don’t even know if I’ll find that cave again.”

Matt could see the frustration in your eyes, and his expression softened. He reached over, grabbing the controller you had tossed aside and holding it out to you. “Hey, listen. It’s just a game. We can go get more diamonds. I’ll help you. We’ll make it a team effort sweetheart.”

You looked at him, your frustration slowly beginning to melt away at the sight of his soft smile and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Matt always knew just how to calm you down, even when you were at your most irrational. It was one of the things you loved most about him—how patient he was with you.

“Fine,” you muttered, taking the controller from his hand, though you couldn’t stop the small smile forming on your lips. “But if we die again — I die again, I’m fucking done and not playing anymore.”

Matt chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. “Deal. But with me here, I promise you—we’re gonna be unstoppable.” He reached for his own controller, ready to join in. “Besides, I’m not letting any skeleton get the best of you. Not on my watch.”

You sighed, leaning into him as he selected his character, the two of you loading back into the game. The warmth of his arm around you and the way he rested his chin lightly on top of your head made it hard to stay frustrated for long.

He had this way of making even the worst gaming losses feel like nothing more than a minor setback, just another challenge to face together.

“Okay,” Matt said as his character spawned beside yours. “First thing’s first—we’re getting you some armor. Full iron, maybe even diamond if we’re lucky. No skeleton’s gonna stand a chance.”

You glanced up at him, watching the way he focused on the screen, his brows furrowed slightly in determination. The same boyish excitement that filled his eyes when he played video games was back, and it made your heart swell.

Even over something as simple as Minecraft, Matt always took it seriously—because he knew it mattered to you.

“You better have my back,” you said, your voice softening as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

Matt gave you a confident grin, his fingers moving deftly over the controls as he began to gather resources. “Always,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “We’re a team, remember?”

A/N 2 : thinking of making a vampire!au for matt and possibly chris… but don’t know where to start. so if i’m not posting a lot it’s cause i’m frying my brain 🥰. But, i’m also not in the best place mentally right now, so i’m trying to work through that too. </3

[manias-wordcount]

Wedding Night (Ganondorf)

Kinktober 2023 Day Twenty-One: Size Difference

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Your mother said that the night of your wedding might be scary. But she also said that if your husband was kind to you- if he was good to you, you would have nothing to worry about. You didn’t believe those words that she said to you when it was first announced that you were to be married into the Dragmire Family. But now that you’re here with your newly anointed husband right in front of you?

You don’t think the words could have rang any more true for another man.

Right now, you’re on your back. Your wedding attire was carefully discarded by your husband’s large hands all so gently, that you would have thought that the man was handling glass and diamonds and other precious jewels. By the time you were completely bare of everything, the nervousness must have been showing on your face. Because he was so quiet, so soft when he helped you lay down on the bed of consummation. So sweet as he helped you part your legs so, so slowly for him. 

And so kind as he took one finger and pressed it to your lower lips, watching carefully as the most private part of your body welcomes in a stranger so easily.

Oh, how you gasped, and oh, how you moaned at the intrusion. You’re no stranger to your own body. You have touched and toyed and played with yourself before. But his fingers? They were so much larger. They were so much thicker. Somehow they managed to accomplish the same feat that not even three or four of your fingers could accomplish so easily- filling you up so easily. So smoothly. So- so perfectly. It almost set you running- racing out of the bed. But a large, firm hand being placed on your stomach stopped you. It keeps you in your place with just enough weight for the message to get to you loud and clear.

So you stay. You don’t run. You don’t cry. You stay. And maybe, just maybe…

…you open your legs just a teensy bit wider at the sight of the small, encouraging smile the King of Gerudo flashes at you for listening to him so readily.

“I forget just how small you are compared to me.” Ganondorf murmurs before looking back down at your body, eyebrows knitting together as a look of deep concentration spreads across his face. You could only whine in response as you felt the finger move further and further in. A loud, pitiful sound that makes your skin turn warm and your blood running hot beneath your skin. Yet the man in front of you- your husband seems to only relish in the sounds you make. Because they’re all made because of him. Because they’re all for him. Your dear, dear husband. Your dear, dear Ganondorf. “I’ve been at this for so long, and yet, you’re still so tight for me. I wonder why that is, my dear. Hmm?”

He with a lifted brow at a quick glance at your blissful expression, he throws the question in your direction. But you don’t answer. You can’t answer. It’s far too embarrassing for you to use your voice right now. Or is it that’s impossible to use your voice right now? You’re not quite sure, but this has you feeling all sortings of things that make it hard to think about anything except for what’s doing to you. And just how good he makes you feel.

The way he stands above you at the end of the bed makes him feel even taller- even bigger than before. Your eyelids flutter every now and then as you fight the urge to just lay there with your eyes closed and ride the singular finger buried inside you until you reach that peak you’re both searching for. It’s hard though. It’s hard fighting that feeling. Especially now that he’s listening to all the dumb little noises that pass through your parted lips. And the chuckle he lets out as he leans into you a little bit more- it makes you feel so, so very small in comparison. So, so very small. 

“You're taking my finger very well, little one.” He compliments you, and you can’t help but coo at the words he says to you. “Ah, what a noisy little thing you are.”

He lets out another laugh at your lewd reactions and expressions to all that he’s giving you, and you can’t help but feel a wave of shame try to wash over you once more. But it’s quickly replaced by the tanned finger buried in your insides pulling back out and pumping itself in again at a pace that’s steadily starting to gain speed and intensity. It’s never too fast for you. It’s never too hard either. But it’s starting to curl and move like it knows what it’s doing. It’s starting to press and prod at places that make you gasp and whimper and moan clamp down on the offending appendage. But more than anything? It’s making you feel good. It’s making you feel warm and pleasured and a little bit dizzy. 

But your mother said that if your husband was good to you- if your husband was kind to you- that he would make your world go soft and your mind grow fuzzy before he even enters you. Though she never said that he could make you feel like a cloud floating among the stars with just one finger and the beautiful purr of his gentle voice. She never said that at all.

“You’re so perfect for me. So receptive. So sweet.”

Ganondorf continues on with his praises. Voice warm as it hits you low, low, low in your body where it matters the most. You whine again at it all, unable to hold it in as the feeling of being called perfect while he takes such good care of you and your body. Every single thing he says- every little word he speaks to you- only manages to make you slip further and further into this headspace. It makes it harder and harder to focus on multiple things- anything at once. So much so that you’re starting to forget your own name and can only remember his. So much so that all you can see when you close your eyes is his olive-colored skin and kind, amber eyes as he touches you in places where no one else has touched you before. So much so that you don’t even know that you’re jerking and shifting and moving your hips in a way that is very unlike the blushing bride you’re supposed to be.

“Ah, But I do wonder…”

Or that the big, and heavy thing now pressing up against your inner thigh…

“If I’ll even be able to fit inside my wife’s precious little pussy without splitting her into two.”

…is supposed to be inside of you before the night is done and over with. 

[daceydeath]

Screeching Tires and Blood Stains

Pairing: Mafia Jongho x Reader Word Count: 3k Genre: Mafia Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Violence, Blood, Dangerous Driving, Explicit Activities, Drinking

Coming face to face with the realities of Jongho's criminal life had not been how you expected your night out together to go.

"Where is Jongho?" you begged, gripping the seatbelt so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn white.

"He'll be fine" Yunho stressed his eyes firmly on the road "you will be too I'll get you back safely".

"I'm not scared for me Yunho" you whimpered, not being able to focus on anything outside of the car, the scenery passing too fast for you to focus on. Jongho had ordered Yunho to get you in another car and get you back to a safe house as fast as possible. You hadn't even had a second to ask what was happening or even kiss him goodbye. Now you weren't sure if you were ever going to see your fiance again. The last sound you had heard other than the screeching tires as Yunho floored the engine was the sound of a scream which made your blood run cold.

You had known the life he led was dangerous, you had cleaned blood from his clothes more times than you could count and changed dressings on wounds at least once a month, but this was the first time you had actually come face to face with the danger he surrounded himself with everyday. Yunho often acted as your bodyguard. He was a gentle giant when it came to you and his loyalty to Jongho was unwavering so naturally Jongho trusted him to protect what he deemed most precious to him, you.

"I know, Jongho is going to be fine, he's a tough fucker" Yunho smiled wryly finally slowing the car now that he deemed it safe. "It's always a bigger deal if you are with us when something happens".

You hummed in understanding but the fear was still firmly entrenched in your chest like a lump of ice freezing you from the inside. The scenery was still passing your window in a blur, Yunho's foot still firmly on the accelerator not taking any chance that someone would follow you back to Jongho's apartment. The tire screech that followed you into the undercover parking garage was almost deafening no doubt leaving rubber in a thick layer on the smooth concrete as he finally hit the brakes before lifting you from the car and running into the waiting elevator only placing you on your own two feet when it started it's climb to the penthouse floor. He led you into the hallway nodding silently to the two men who guarded the entrance to the actual apartment, the message you didn't know officially but you had an inkling just watching the two men tense and take a more aggressive stance.

"I'll get you something to drink" Yunho smiled tightly, sitting you on the sofa and moving towards the drinks cart to grab you your standard tipple of choice.

"You're making me drinks? How bad is tonight going to be?" You sighed bitterly, your heart in your throat, looking into Yunho's eyes hoping he could see that you were demanding the truth from him.

"It could be really bad" he frowned, sitting down opposite you, pulling his hand gun from its holster and laying it on the coffee table "Jongho didn't see this coming tonight, I don't know what will happen". His candor was unusual. Normally he would soften news for you to prevent you panicking.

"You should be out there with him Yunho" you urged chewing your lip nervously "I'll be fine here, there's guys out the front and Jongho taught me to shoot" you looked at him knowing that if you could get him to go back your man was more likely to come home to you.

"He ordered me to stay with you so I will" he reminded you kindly before moving to take your hand  in his. "If this goes to shit you will be looked after. I gave Jongho my word and he's given clear instructions".

"What the fuck does that mean?" You refuted angrily pulling your hand away from his as you heard loud yelling from the hallway outside. Whipping your head towards the sound with wide eyes, before a heartbeat later you found yourself pressed face first into the plush carpet Yunho pressed against your back, his long arm extended pointing his gun towards the sound. The front door burst open revealing Mingi and San, two of Jongho's enforcers, dragging a blood soaked Jongho into the apartment swearing loudly and still shouting at someone behind them.

"Fuck Yunho" San shouted as he spotted Yunho's gun trained on them “we don't need anyone else getting trigger happy tonight”.

"What happened?" Yunho grunted standing quickly, pulling you up with him, and moving to help haul Jongho's pained form onto the dining table making him breath heavily and grunt in protest.

“Were you followed Yunho? Did they see where you brought her?” Jongho growled looking at his friend.

“I got her away clean, man, you know I will keep her safe for you” Yunho replied solemnly.

"We were double crossed" Mingi spat through his clenched teeth, helping to get Jongho's shirt off of him while you stood motionless in shock beside the couch. "One of the soldiers was a plant".

"Was? I'm taking you fixed that problem?" Yunho smirked, helping to hold Jongho still while Mingi got his shirt and tie off the blood still flowing from his arm now running into the floor beneath the table staining the carpet bright vermillion. The front door once again opened as a man you know only as Doc rushed in followed by another man carrying a large medical crate.

"Is it a through and through?" Lee barked, opening one of Jongho's eyes wide to check his pupils, then felt for the pulse in his neck.

"Yeah doc, he's lost a lot of blood but he's still breathing" San replied swiftly, tying a tourniquet around Jongho's upper arm to stem the bleeding once more.

"Right get a needle in him and get some blood started" he ordered as the nameless man did as he was told.

"Will he be alright?" You finally managed to ask your voice faltering. Jongho hissed as the first needle entered the vein in his opposite arm and doc began probing the open wound in his upper arm.

"Of course" San reassured you "Doc will get him sorted out then if needed we will get him to a hospital but it's just a bullet wound" his smile was tight but he was trying his hardest to sound calm and in control. Jongho met your eyes for the first time since he had just about thrown you at Yunho screaming at him to get you out of there.

"San has got a few scratches on him. How about you help clean those up and get some clean clothes for me?" Jongho urged nodding at San and Mingi who nodded back in an unspoken agreement.

"Sure" you stuttered, walking towards the bedroom to get some clothes for at least Jongho and San. "I can do that".

San followed you, grabbing the clothes you offered him and heading into the bathroom to clean himself up, while you sat on the bed opening the first aid kit that you kept in the bedroom. San returned a few minutes later wearing sweatpants and no shirt, the small wound on his arm obvious but insignificant. 

"Sit San" you tried your hardest to not let the shake in your voice obvious, following your wishes he did, letting you tend to the small graze that he didn't even seem to have noticed before Jongho had sent him with you.

"You're doing great" he murmured, pulling on a T-shirt and placing his hand on top of your head. "I'll swap with Mingi and you can look after anything that's on him". San picked up the clothes for your boyfriend and left to fetch Mingi.

Being left alone you took the chance to quickly change your own clothes, dropping the brand new dress you had worn onto the pile of clothes San had left on the bathroom floor. You would have to make sure they were incinerated later but for now you would wait for Mingi to change to another set of sweats and shirt sitting beside you on the bed.

"Ready for me?" Mingi asked softly trying to not startle you as he stepped into the room.

"Go clean up and I'll clean up anything you have that needs tending" you nodded letting him step into the bathroom with the clothes you had given him. You couldn't stop thinking about the sight of Jongho lying covered in blood on the table, how murderous he had looked being dragged by his friends into the apartment and what Yunho had said. What would you do if it did go badly? you weren't sure you could live without Jongho and would you even be allowed to just continue with life with all the things you knew and had seen in your time with him.

"Your thinking too hard" Mingi sighed sitting beside you on the bed "he's going to be fine, it's not life threatening" he gave you a small smile as you stood looking him over. Mingi has three small cuts that didn't even need dressing and a dozen bruises coming up so you carefully put some ointment on him before allowing him to finish dressing himself.

"Can I come out and see him again?" You asked meekly, putting away the first aid supplies.

"Course, docs got him hooked up to blood and saline so he should be back to normal soon anyway" Mingi grinned, escorting you out to where they were. You could hear hushed whispers as you stepped out of your shared bedroom but with Mingi's hand on your shoulder you continued to where they were still treating Jongho only he was now sitting in one of the dining chairs whilst Yunho cleaned the blood from the table.

"My love" Jongho sighed, his voice hoarse but still definitely loud enough for you to hear properly.

"Jongho" you sobbed, taking the hand closest to you and squeezing it.

"Hey love, no tears I'm fine" he tried to chuckle.

"Fine? You were just dragged onto your apartment and put on the dining table with blood pouring out of you!" you scoffed emotionally trying to not let the tears in your eyes escape your waterline and trying your hardest to resist slapping his shoulder.

"Doc has patched me up" Jongho smiled cupping your face with his other hand not noticing the dried blood all over it until it was against your skin.

"You scared me half to death" you pouted watching his eyes crinkle in a soft smile and doc removed the cannula that was no longer needed from his arm.

“That's why you love me though'' he grinned cheekily knowing you wouldn't argue you were just happy that he was fine. “You boys go home, get some rest and we will reconvene tomorrow to sort out what needs to be done”. You watched them all nod and one by one leave with Yunho being the last to go, his hand squeezing Jongho’s shoulder firmly before he let himself out.

“I'm sorry your pretty dress is ruined my love” he apologized genuinely, taking both your hands in his and kissing each of your fingers. “I'll buy you ten more to replace it”.

“Let me get you into bed first” you chewed your lip tiredly “you need rest”. He stood up easily, letting you pull him carefully behind you to his bedroom, sitting him down on his side of the bed letting him get comfortable against the headboard before you went back out to turn off all the lights. You returned to him smiling crookedly at you, his hair tousled from running his hand through it. Slipping the sweatpants you had put on off you were left in just one of his oversized t-shirts and your underwear.

“Do you need help getting into bed handsome?” You tilted your head as you crossed the room to him, noticing his eyes roaming up and down your body.

“No but I have had a thought” he started his soft eyes meeting yours while he cupped your cheek with his hand “I want you to move in here with me, I want to come home to you, I want to know you’re always safe”.

“I thought you wanted me to keep one step away from this life?” you furrowed your brows slightly even though the corners of your lips turned upward.

“I did but now I want you with me always” he admitted pulling you in to kiss you passionately, even in his injured state he easily maneuvered you into his lap pressing you against him and holding you in place with his hand on the nape of your neck.

“We can’t you’re hurt” you whispered against his lips, feeling his hard chest against your own, your hands bunching up his shirt to expose his flesh to you.

“I’m not that injured my love” he murmured back lowering one of his hands to squeeze and tease your tits making you whimper and shuffle in his lap “please let me touch you” he continued pressing his hips up against your barely covered crotch, you dropped your forehead against his shoulder letting him do whatever he wanted in that moment letting small noises leave your lips with each movement of his hands. Kissing his neck softly you felt the vibrations from his quiet groan through his skin encouraging you to keep kissing him.

“You’re so amazing letting me touch you, letting me love you” he rasped, swallowing hard and moving his attention to your hips, gripping them tightly and pressing you against his hardening dick helping you grid against him the way he wanted. “You going to let me fuck you yeah?”.

“Yes Jongho” you whined, his fingers brushing against your covered clit only to pull away again to help you lift yourself enough for him to pull his now weeping cock from his pants so that there would be nothing but the flimsy material of your underwear between you. Continuing your grinding against him he let out a low groan from deep in his throat moving your underwear to the side to easily slip himself between your folds to cover his length with your essence before gradually entering your tight hole and allowing you to sink down at your own pace, splitting you open and stretching you until you were so full you didn’t think you could possibly take anymore of him. 

“Just a little bit more my love” he grunted, not moving his hips to let you control your own pace.

“So big Jongho” you moaned softly, not stopping your legs from sinking you down further on his cock. You heard him grunt as you finally pressed hips against his pelvis, the delicious mix of pleasure and almost pain making your head swim. Jongho’s head fell back against the bed frame with a soft thunk, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. You began to roll your hips again unhurriedly enjoying the feeling of him inside you, his hands on you, his voice surrounding you as you began to find your leisurely pace. Your hands on his chest you leant forward to press your lips against his neck nipping and carefully sucking small love bites on his skin marking him lightly as yours and only yours as his grip on you tightened no doubt leaving his own marks on you for you to find in the morning.

“Fuck I’m so in love with you” He moaned his breath coming out in soft pants and grunts as you continued to ride him. 

“I love you” you mewled the pleasure flowing through you making you move more desperately his whimpers making you need more as the image of him still covered in blood entered your mind making you feel everything so much more intensely bringing tears to your eyes your rocking hips moving faster as your got more emotional “I love you Jongho”. The first tear falling from your eyes onto his neck mingling with his sweat and making his skin even saltier against your tongue.

“I got you love, I’m here” he grunted loudly his hands now moving your hips as you began to lose your rhythm his hips coming up slightly to meet yours “Fuck my love I’m here, I’ll always he here he ground out as your walls started to flutter wildly around him.

“Fuck Jongho…Jongho” you cried coming hard around him, your walls milking his seed from him as he followed you with his own release. Slumping against him you continued kissing his neck lazily breathing in his scent as your eyes began to droop slightly. You both sat in silence, your bodies still connected as you came down from your highs only moving when Jongho helped you to lay beside him, your thighs burning too much for you to move by yourself gracefully.

“I know I scared you tonight my love” he started brushing his fingers against your back as you laid curled up against him “I’m sorry”.

“I know it’s your life Jongho, I’ve known for almost as long as we have been together. It’s a risk I knew existed but I never thought would happen in front of me. Is that naive?” You asked honestly.

“There will be retribution for what happened tonight so hopefully it won't happen in front of you again but I can’t promise it will never happen again” he answered truthfully “But I will protect you always and Yunho will take care of you if anything ever happens to me so you will always be safe”.

“I love you Jongho, I’ll get my stuff together to move in at the weekend” you grinned against his chest. Feeling him silently chuckle.

“I’ll let the guys know they will be moving your stuff for you then”.

A/N: Thank you for reading as always your support means the world to me as always I appreciate every like, reblog and comment my beautiful lovelies xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold

[sollis-occasum]

there is a light that never goes out - anakin x queen!reader x sith!obi-wan (part 1 of 5)

summary: When your first love, Obi-Wan Kenobi, gave in to the temptations of the dark side and joined the Sith Order, you thought there was no hope for your people. However, a message from a friend you thought was dead would reignite the fire of rebellion in your heart.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, unrequited love, blood, mentions of execution, mentions of death, mentions of biological weapons, reader is a corrupt politician (actually this is a little bit complicated)

word count: 4.2k

a/n: My story takes place in an alternative universe where Obi-Wan has turned to the dark side and Anakin has formed a resistance with the Jedi who survived Order 66 (I know Obi is a comfort character for most of us but sith!obi-wan is too attractive to not write about. What can i do? I'm just a girl) He will be in story in part 2. Also, as i said before, English is not my first language. I'm sure i made many mistakes. I hope you don't mind guys. I love you ♡

If there was one thing your people and your friends in the Imperial Senate knew for sure about you, it was that you had no intention of wasting your precious time rebelling against Lord Sidious, perhaps the most evil being the galaxy had seen in thousands of years.

Of course, it wasn’t because you had sympathy for the ugly old man or supported his fascist ideas that favored the human race. In fact, even during those unfortunate times when thousands of senators from all over the galaxy were ready to worship the Chancellor and the Separatists were on the rise, you were secretly proud of yourself for not falling under his influence—something you would rather attribute to your own intelligence than to the other senators being fools blinded by their lust for power.

Yes, deep down you didn’t recognize Palpatine’s empire and still held onto your loyalty to the Republic, but in your situation it didn’t matter. As a queen, you were one of the best at understanding how dangerous a game politics is, and you played by the rules for the good of your people. Up until that day, you had given the Emperor everything he asked of you without even bargaining. You had allowed him to change your government and install his own men, accepting the heavy taxes he demanded, and allowing him to build the weapons factories and experimental laboratories he wanted, even if it meant destroying the entire ecosystem of your planet. You had made all the sacrifices expected of you, until there was nothing left to sacrifice.

You knew that when your people looked at you, they saw not their beloved queen but one of Palpatine's puppets. To them, you were nothing more than a traitor who had betrayed the great royal family and the glorious history of your planet for thousands of years. You ignored the misery of your people in order to protect your crown and continued your luxurious life in your palace.

If only they knew how wrong they were...

You never had the courage to oppose the emperor until that day because you knew what fate awaited the people who opposed Palpatine's rule. You had seen systems falling apart, planets being invaded, and senators being executed mercilessly in front of their people. You couldn't let the people under your protection face this fate! The Emperor might have carelessly destroyed everything beautiful on your planet, but he wouldn't be able to destroy your people.

For this purpose, you would play the role of the corrupted politician your people had assigned to you in the most professional way, and you would make all the sacrifices you had to make to protect your people from Lord Sidioud's wrath until the end of your life. You didn't have the luxury of playing revolutionist. At least, that was what you believed to be right at the time.

However, in dark times, people change, and so do beliefs. A message sent to you by someone you least expected, at a time you least expected, had also initiated this change.

Using the information in the message secretly delivered to you by an old and neglected droid, whichg you had no idea how he had entered your palace, you managed to open a communication channel, allowing a hologram very close to a human size to appear in front of you.

The man had wavy hair that almost reached his shoulders, and his shoulders were slumped as if he were crushed under the weight of carrying the responsibility of the entire galaxy. He was wearing an old cloak with blood stains on it. The parts of his body that you could see were also covered in blood and wounds. He stood determined and upright, but there were traces in his eyes that even the static hologram image could not hide. Traces of sadness and despair. The owner of this hologram was someone you knew very well: The man in front of you was your old friend Anakin Skywalker.

Thank God, the droid resisted opening the message on the holoprojector in your throne room. Otherwise, you had no idea how you would explain this reaction to those around you. You started to walk back slowly, as if there was an assassin ready to kill you, not a hologram in front of you, and eventually you tripped and fell in your seat. Even though you covered your mouth with your hand in terror, your eyes could not hide your fear and surprise. You took deep breaths as if they could comfort you, but no matter what you did, you could not slow down your rapidly beating heart.

"But how is that possible?" you muttered in a voice you could barely hear. "That's impossible! You-you were dead, Anakin. Obi-Wan killed you."

Anakin, who somehow managed to hear you, smiled sadly and protested, "No, your majesty." "As you can see, I'm still alive. I would love to tell you about my experiences, but..."

"Shut up!" you shouted with a deep anger that came from deep within you to stop the man in front of you. Deep down you knew you were being irrational, but wasn't this situation you were in already irrational enough? Besides, the fact that an old friend you had been mourning for years suddenly appeared before you as if nothing had happened should have given you the right to act however you wanted, at least for a short while.

"Shut up! You can't be real. I know that the real Anakin Skywalker was killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. Padme Amidala couldn't have lied to me! Who are you and how dare you use Ani to play such a vile trick on me?"

Anakin opened his mouth to explain himself to you again, but you raised your hand to stop him. A light flickered in your eyes as if you had solved a great mystery.

“Of course,” you said sarcastically. “Who else but Palpatine would dare do such a thing? You are one of his men. This droid must belong to the Empire. How could I not have thought of that?”

You ignored the desperate sounds of the ambassador droid and Anakin’s objections as you walked towards your desk to grab the small blaster from the drawer.

“That old man knew I would accept the agreement he wanted anyway. Did he really need to play such a dirty trick on me? Besides, what did he think he was going to achieve by doing this? That I would give him everything he wanted without even holding a meeting? Couldn’t he have sent one of his incompetent ambassadors who is just as ugly as he is?”

You quickly turned the gun on the droid. The small, metal astromech tried to move back and forth in fear, but it couldn’t get very far from where it was, partly because of the hologram’s loyalty to its owner and partly because the metal parts that made it move had rusted.

You turned to the hologram one last time and said in a language unbecoming of a queen, “Now fuck off and tell your owner that I will accept the deal he is offering and that he doesn’t need to play such cheap games because when I am done with him, your stupid droid will not be able to do it.”

The astromech started to make hissing sounds of protest again, and Anakin’s voice joined his. He raised his hand as if he could stop you from where he was and shouted, “Don’t you dare do that.” There was no trace of the respect in his voice when you first started talking. “This is my only chance to talk to you. If you shoot the droid, it’s all over. And for God’s sake, are you so blind that you can’t even recognize Artoo?”

You looked at the astromech again with a jerk. You hadn't lowered your weapon yet, but it was a fact that the hologram's mention of Artoo aroused suspicion in your mind. Yes, you could tell with a single glance that the droid in front of you belonged to one of the older models of the R series, and its advanced intelligence, the sounds it made, and its hasty attitude were also the same as Artoo's. But how could you be sure that this droid, whose paint had peeled off, was not oiled, and was damaged in many places, belonged to your old friend? You turned your gaze to Anakin with an irritated expression.

"I have no reason to believe that this droid is Artoo. It could be any model of the R series. And let me tell you right now that you know about Artoo's existence doesn't mean anything to me. Your owner's pet Obi-Wan Kenobi may have also told you about Anakin's astromech."

Artoo let out a sad hiss as Anakin began to angrily ruffle his hair with his non-mechanical hand. "Is he my owner?" he asked, disgust evident in his voice. "Is Palpatine my owner? Don't you dare say that again. That scumbag is nothing to me. How can you think I'm working for him when I've lost everything and everyone I care about because of him!"

"Then prove it!" you cried. You could feel the anger and pain beginning to consume you. "I beg you," you muttered quietly as you sank to the ground in front of the holoprojector. "I'm not asking for you to give me a reason, I'm begging you to give me a reason." Maybe you needed to believe more than he needed to be believed.

"Convince me that Anakin Skywalker is still alive."

You could see Anakin smiling at you, though it was blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. It was a warm, affectionate smile that he rarely showed to anyone, perhaps even a little embarrassed.

He moved slowly and cautiously, as if you were a wounded convor who would run away if he frightened her. He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a delicate bracelet with a round, shiny stone in the center. Even the fact that it was reflected in a poorly-made hologram didn’t stop you from recognizing it at first sight.

“Do you remember this?” Anakin asked softly. “You gave me this bracelet ten years ago, on the edge of the Nara swamp. It was my last day before i left your planet, and we got into a fight over some stupid reason I can’t remember now. I think it was something about Aiwha rights. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Aiwha rights are stupid, I’m just saying it was stupid that we got into a fight over this on our last day.”

Even though you were in a crappy situation, you couldn’t help but curl your lips. You had always been very sensitive about the rights of non-sapient species (Tusken raiders were not among them, of course; they were a whole other story), and you found it funny that the man who was talking was afraid to upset you even after all these years. The times when you fought with all your might to defend the rights of other living beings seemed so distant to you. Especially now that you can barely protect the rights of your own people.

"You were so angry with me that I thought you wouldn't come to say goodbye before I returned to Crouscant, but you sent a note to me with help of Artoo asking us to meet at the edge of the Nara Swamp. You didn't want anyone to know about this meeting."

Artoo made a noise of agreement, glad that his part in the story hadn't been left out. Everything the man who claimed to be Anakin had told you so far was true, and the bracelet he showed was a great proof. You knew that your heart was starting to believe him, even if your brain resisted it, but you didn't let your guard down. Because if the man in front of you was really a liar, you knew that your heart would be shattered again and this time, unlike what you did in the past, you wouldn't be able to put the broken pieces back together. "Go ahead," you said coldly.

"We met at the place you wanted just before sunrise. At first, you were very quiet, no matter what I said, I couldn't convince you to talk. Then you suddenly started crying. In fact, I gave you the nickname softy back then. To be honest, even today, when the entire galaxy calls you queen and bows down to you, I'm proud to be the only one who can mock you like that. Anyway... Even though it had been a month since we met, that was the first time you told me about your past. You told me that you weren't very close with your family, that you were always taken care of by the maids and nannies in the palace, that you didn't have any friends growing up. You told me that I was your first and only friend, that no one could understand you like I did, and you asked me not to go, that I should stay on your planet with you."

"But you still left." you said in a low voice. While Anakin was verbally explaining, you were so immersed in replaying that memory in your mind that you hadn’t realized that by addressing him as “you,” you were indirectly acknowledging that he was Anakin Skywalker. “You knew I had to go,” he said with a sad smile, thinking of both of you, those two innocent children who were unaware of their unfortunate and painful future at the time.

"When I told you that I belonged in the Jedi Temple, and that I had to go, you asked me for a favor."

He took the bracelet in his hand and squeezed it as if he were drawing strength from it. "You asked me to come find you and give you this bracelet if you ever ascended to the throne and become one of those stupid, self-centered, incompetent politicians. You said it meant a lot to you and would bring you back to your senses."

The bracelet in Anakin's hands was truly precious to you because, ironically, there was nothing else that made it valuable. When expressed this way, it might seem contradictory, even a little absurd, but it had a very meaningful story for you. When you were only 15, when your people saw you not as a traitor but as their beautiful and elegant princess, you had left the palace to greet your people and tried to blend in with them as if you were a common citizen and not a member of the royal family. While you were deep in conversation with a little boy about his favorite snack, an old and poor woman had timidly approached you and tentatively handed you the bracelet. According to what she told you, the woman made her living by selling jewelry in her small shop, and the bracelet was the most expensive and valuable thing in that dilapidated shop.

"Even if it's not worthy of you, please take this, my noble princess," the woman said with an embarrassed face as if she had said something very rude. "I don't mean to disrespect you by giving you such a cheap bracelet, but it is the most valuable thing I have. I am a person who is devoted to the royal family with all my heart. You have no idea how honored i would be if you accept this little gift of mine and wear it."

To be honest, even the barrette in your poorest maid's hair was more expensive than that bracelet. It was not your style at all, and it didn't even match your clothes.

But that day, in front of that old shop, you had taken that bracelet from her wrinkled hands, put it on, and never taken it off until the day you gave it to Anakin. That bracelet was more than just a piece of chain and a small stone to you. That was a symbol of your loyalty to your people. One day, when you inherited the throne from your father, you would protect everyone who was disadvantaged, find a way to end income inequality. Now, those dreams you had as a little girl made you laugh.

You may not have been able to bring justice to your people, but you had managed to become the most hated member of the royal family in the thousands of years of your planet's history. Well, that was something, wasn't it? At least you knew that one day your name would not be buried in the dusty pages of history, but would continue to be in the history books for years to come. Even if you were to be remembered as a failed leader and a traitor...

You were so lost in memories of the distant past and self-criticism that it took Anakin's cough to bring you back to your senses. You didn't have to be a Jedi to know that he was getting impatient.

"From what I've heard, it's time to return this bracelet to you, but that's beside the point. Now, if I've convinced you that I'm Anakin Skywalker, can I get to the point?"

How could he dare to come back after all these years and criticize how you governed your people as if nothing had happened? On the other hand, speaking without thinking was so typical of Anakin that you couldn't even get angry. You shrugged your shoulders irritably.

"I can't say I believe it, but I decided to at least listen to what you have to say before I smash your droid. If you want to convince me, you have to explain where have you been and what have you been doing all these years. Padme told me before she was executed that you were killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. If you were alive, why didn't you come to me all these years? Why didn't you let me help you?"

Actually, there were hundreds of things you wanted to ask. You wanted to know where he has been all this time, how he escaped from the Imperial soldiers, what did he do in order to survive? But you couldn’t do it because your voice had started to tremble. It was like that whenever you mentioned him. Your throat would tighten and your voice would shake. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the once Jedi Master and the ruthless Sith Lord of your time, or Darth Whatever. You couldn’t bear to say that dirty name given to him by the Emperor, or even think about it. The years had taught you to get used to everything, but you couldn’t get used to his new identity. He was the man who had once taught you love, mercy, and compassion. He was your first love and your first heartbreak. How could he have turned into such a hateful, savage beast? How could that wise man accept being Palpatine’s puppet?

After a few seconds of silence, Anakin spoke up again. “It’s actually a little hard to explain.” You could see he was having a hard time remembering and recounting the past. But you didn’t stop him. You wanted answers to your questions, and you were going to get them. Right away.

“It’s true that Obi-Wan and I fought a duel at Musatafar, and I lost. But contrary to what my former master thought, I didn’t die there. Padme saved me shortly before she was executed.” He pulled up the pants under his cloak to reveal his mechanical leg. “Here’s a souvenir from that duel. After being treated by Senator Organa’s personal doctors on Alderaan, I traveled to a planet I won’t name for security reasons, and met up with some allies I won’t name.”

“You’re turning into a droid, huh?” you asked, pointing to his leg. Even though there was sarcasm in your voice, your expression couldn't hide your true feelings. “You’ve always loved them.” You knew what he was talking about was extremely serious and traumatic, but you had to say something right then, and that was the first thing that came to mind, no matter how meaningless. And Artoo had made a more lively sound than he had since he had come to you. You had no idea what the little astromech had understood from what you had said, but he was clearly excited to imagine his master as a droid.

Anakin rolled his eyes, "How funny," he said, but you noticed that he was smiling.

"So why did you reach out to me now, Anakin, after all these years of disappearing? What do you want from me?"

"I haven't reached out to you all this time because I've seen the sacrifices you've made to protect your people. I know what Obi-Wan did to those he thought were organizing against Palpatine. And I learned from Senator Organa back then that the emperor was watching your every move. Knowing I was alive would bring nothing but destruction to you and your people. Frankly, I wouldn't be reaching out to you today if I didn't need your help so badly. One of our friends who has managed to infiltrate the Imperial engineers recently gave us some information that Palpatine is making moves to build a new weapon."

"A weapon? Is he trying to build a new one, as if he doesn't already have every weapon in the galaxy?"

"This is a different kind of weapon. Palpatine plans to use a parasite that lives on your planet and secretes its toxic substances to create a bioweapon. It's also much more deadly than any other bioweapon he has. By our calculations, just 10 grams of it released into the air would be enough to kill 2 million people, and up to 5 million for some life forms."

You put your hands to your mouth in horror. You could imagine what it would mean for Palpatine to have such a deadly weapon of mass destruction. And was he going to do it on your planet, using your resources? "B-but how is that possible?" you asked Anakin. "If something like that happened, i would definitely hear about it..."

Your words were cut short by the sudden realization. "Of course..." you mumbled to yourself. "How could I not have figured this out until now?" You were just beginning to understand why Palpatine was so insistent on setting up a lab on your planet. You were already aware that you didn't have the most reliable intelligence team in the galaxy, but you were trying very hard not to go and punch them all. How could they not have known about this beforehand and warned you? And you were angry with yourself. After being deceived and betrayed by Palpatine so many times, how could you have believed that the lab he had set up was for medical purposes? “Good God,” you said, as if seeking strength. Because only divine power could make you endure the horror of what you were hearing.

You turned to the droid next to you with a sudden decision. You would have plenty of time to be angry with yourself and the people under your command later. But right now, you had to be strong and find a solution as soon as possible. Just like a queen. "You have the coordinates to Anakin's location, don't you, Artoo?"

The astromech confirmed you with you. "Give them to me right away. I have to go to Anakin."

Your old friend raised his hand and reached for you as if he could stop you, but the hologram passed through your body. "Don't do something stupid like that," he objected. "If you get caught, they'll kill you."

"Then I won't get caught." you said with great determination. "I can't leave you there like that, Anakin. Besides, I don't think you're in a position to object to me. Your whole body is covered in blood."

"It's not my blood, actually."

"If you think that makes me feel better, Anakin, I'm sorry, but you're very wrong."

You slowly reached out to Anakin's face. This move had done nothing but scatter the hologram, but your emotions were so intense that you wanted to reach even his reflection.

"Wait for me, Anakin."

After you turned off the holoprojector, you called one of your loyal servants over and asked her to prepare your ship. "Make sure to oil this droid," you added as you lovingly patted Artoo's head. "You have no idea how smart and special this little one is."

This was the message that lit a light in your heart 3 years ago, giving you hope that everything would change. Your old friend might have reached out to you for help. But he was the one who helped you by putting the broken pieces of your heart back together. Fate had brought you and Anakin Skywalker together once more, never to be separated again..

tags: @circe143 @snowtargaryen

[glearyyyne]

deja vu

Part 2

Synopsis: Since some things are precious but invisible to the eye, we forget them as life passes by. In which child Satoru forgot the promise he made to you as he grew up trying to fit into the expectations thrown at him, everything is fine until he began to dream about those moments he forgot, and he began to investigate what he forgot.

Word Count: 5,567 words

Warning: Imaginary friends, I don't know if this is angst anymore since it has a happy ending.

Note: Happy Birthday to me! (ᗒᗨᗕ) the title came from tomorrow x together's new song! go ahead and stream minisode 3. This is best to read while listening to deja vu! This was to be like long ass story but I'll just make a part 2 if everyone wants too. Have fun reading! <33.

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Stomp stomp

Satoru stopped running when he made it to the garden of his household, he ran away again from his lesson just to have fun. 

As Satoru stood on the pile of leaves, he carefully stomped out the melody of the Morse code, hoping to summon the person he had met in the garden. Each rhythmic stomp carried a message, a secret code only they shared.

"Satoru!" The voice called out, and he excitedly turned his head around to see you and the fennec fox that you weirdly named "Tomorrow.”

Upon seeing you, Satoru’s eyes lit up before he tried to rush towards you but instead, he tripped and landed right on his face. 

He groans in pain with tears threatening to spill but you come towards him, kneeling and helping him to stand up.

He started seeing you after his 7th birthday. When he was wandering around alone in the garden that was like a maze, he saw you sitting prettily as you gently petted that fox. 

You looked just around his age at that time, but he couldn't believe whether you were real or not since you looked like an angel to his eyes from how bright you were. 

It was as if you were not a human being at all…

When you accidentally made eye contact with Satoru, that's how you two began to meet in secret.

"Are you okay?" you asked with a concerned look as Satoru brushed it off, telling you he was fine, even though there was clear evidence of blood running down his nose.

Despite his attempt to hide it, you could see the pain in his eyes. 

Gently, you reached out and wiped away the blood with a handkerchief you always carried with you. Satoru winced slightly but tried to hide it with a weak smile.

"You really should be more careful, Satoru," you scolded softly, your voice filled with worry. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You led him to a nearby bench and carefully dabbed at his nose with the handkerchief, trying to stop the bleeding. 

The fennec fox, Tomorrow, nuzzled against Satoru's leg as if offering comfort in its own way.

As you tend to him, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and safety wash over him. Being with you and Tomorrow always made him forget his troubles, even if just for a little while.

As Satoru sat there with you by his side, tending to his injury, he couldn't help but wish that this moment could last forever. 

He wished he could stay like this with you, with Tomorrow following you two around, offering silent companionship.

Despite the pain in his nose, Satoru felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over him. 

Being with you made him forget about the stresses and worries of his everyday life as the heir to the Gojo clan. It was moments like these that he cherished the most, moments of simple happiness and quiet friendship.

As you finished cleaning up his nose, Satoru looked up at you with gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. 

"I don't know what I would do without you.” He added.

You gave him a light-hearted chuckle as you told him it's nothing, as long as his nose is fine. 

With a playful grin, you booped his nose gently, causing him to wince and whine as it still pained him even from a gentle touch.

"I'm sorry," you said with a sympathetic smile, realizing your mistake. "I didn't mean to make it hurt more."

Satoru shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips despite the discomfort. "It's okay," he assured you. "I'll survive."

You and Satoru shared a moment of laughter, finding solace in each other's company even in the midst of a small mishap. As Tomorrow nestled closer to both of you, the bond between the three of you felt stronger than ever.

As Satoru began to tell you about his day, you sat there listening attentively, giving him a genuine reaction to each detail he shared. 

You laughed at his humorous anecdotes, frowned at his frustrations, and smiled at his moments of joy.

Lost in conversation, neither of you noticed the passage of time or the maid beginning to appear in the garden. 

Satoru was completely engrossed in sharing his experiences with you, finding comfort in your presence and the ease with which he could confide in you.

While Satoru was still engrossed in telling his story, he was abruptly pulled on his wrist. Startled, he turned to face his personal maid, who had a frantic look on her face.

"Gojo-sama, who were you talking to?!" she asked, breathing heavily. 

Satoru was confused. "Huh? I was talking to-" He turned his head to face you and Tomorrow, eager to show you to the maid, but to his surprise, the two of you weren't there.

Huh?

Confusion clouded Satoru's expression as he scanned the garden, but there was no sign of you or Tomorrow. 

His heart sank as he realized that you and the fennec fox had vanished without a trace, leaving him standing there, alone with his bewildered maid.

The maid sighed in disappointment, her frustration evident as she scolded him. 

"I'm disappointed in you, Gojo-sama, for running away from your lecture and being here alone! How would your father react if he knew this?!" Her voice carried a mix of concern and fear, knowing the consequences of Satoru's actions if his father found out about his whereabouts while escaping an important lesson.

Satoru felt a pang of guilt as he realized the trouble he could be in if his father discovered his disobedience. 

He lowered his gaze, feeling ashamed for causing his maid such distress.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I'll go back to my lesson now."

With a heavy heart, Satoru followed his maid back to the house, his mind filled with thoughts of you and Tomorrow, wondering where you had disappeared and if he would ever see you again.

The next day, Satoru returned to the garden, finding himself standing in the same spot where he had met you before. Hesitant at first, he debated whether to do the Morse code to summon you, but he shook off his doubts and began stomping his feet in the pile of leaves, creating the familiar rhythm.

Just as he finished, he heard your voice calling out his name. Startled, Satoru turned around to see you standing there, nervous but with a glimmer of hope in your eyes. Tomorrow hung on your shoulder, adding to the surreal scene.

"Satoru," you spoke softly, the sound of his name sending a wave of relief through him. Without hesitation, he rushed towards you, a smile spreading across his face.

"You came back," he said, his voice filled with joy and gratitude. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you again.”

Satoru added, "Since you suddenly vanished yesterday when my maid was scolding me," his tone carrying a hint of hurt. You gently held his shoulder, trying to reassure him.

"I'm sorry about it, but if you know about it, I don't know about the consequences I'll face," you explained, your words tinged with concern. Satoru's interest was piqued by your cryptic statement, and he looked at you with curiosity.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. He couldn't help but wonder what consequences you were referring to and why you had disappeared so suddenly the day before.

You brushed it off, telling him it's nothing he should be worrying about. Satoru was confused as to why you couldn't tell him, but he kept quiet. All he wanted to do was spend time with you and Tomorrow, relishing in the moment of companionship and friendship.

Though a part of him was curious about the secrets you held, he decided not to press further. Instead, he focused on the present, cherishing the time he had with you and the fennec fox. As he watched Tomorrow playfully scampering around, a smile formed on Satoru's lips, grateful for the simple joys your presence brought him.

On his 10th birthday, Satoru came across the garden, but there was no joy in his body. He mechanically performed the usual Morse code, his heart heavy with burdens he couldn't quite articulate. When you called his name, he turned around to see you smiling at him, Tomorrow perched on your shoulder as usual.

However, your smile faltered as you sensed Satoru's unusual demeanor. Concern etched across your face as you approached him cautiously.

"Satoru, is everything alright?" you asked gently, your voice filled with genuine care. Satoru hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express the turmoil he was feeling inside.

"I came here to tell you that I will stop coming here," Satoru replied, his voice tinged with sadness. Your face showed an expression of hurt and a small "oh" escaped your lips. Satoru scratched his nape nervously.

"Satoru, will you promise me?" you asked, your voice soft but filled with emotion.

"Promise about what?" he asked, confused by your request.

"Promise me that you will meet us again and you won't forget the Morse code we created and also mine and Tomorrow's name," you told him with a smile, even though it hurt you deeply.

Satoru thought it wasn't that hard as he agreed, "I promise," he said with a smile. You smiled back, though a tinge of sadness lingered in your eyes, as he walked away to head inside his clan household. You stood there, staring at the ground, hiding the fact that you had a gift for him hidden behind your feet.

As Satoru disappeared from view, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. 

With a heavy heart, you bent down and retrieved the gift you had prepared for him, clutching it tightly in your hands.

Despite the pain of saying goodbye, you knew it was for the best. Holding onto the hope that someday, somehow, you and Satoru would meet again. 

With a determined smile, you tucked the gift away, silently vowing to cherish the memories you shared and to keep your promise to never forget.

But that promise slowly faded away as Satoru grew older, the memories of his childhood slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. 

Immersed in his duties as the heir of the Gojo clan, he became consumed by the weight of expectations and obligations.

As the years passed, the garden and the special moments he shared with you and Tomorrow became distant echoes in his mind, overshadowed by the demands of his position. 

Slowly but surely, the memories began to blur, the Morse code becoming nothing more than a forgotten melody, and your name fading into the depths of his consciousness.

Despite his best efforts to hold on, Satoru found himself unable to recall the promise he had made to you that day. 

It was as if a veil had been drawn over his past, shrouding it in a haze of forgetfulness.

With each passing day, the gap between Satoru's present and his cherished memories of the past widened, leaving him feeling lost and disconnected from the innocence and joy of his childhood. 

As he continued to fulfill his duties as the heir of the Gojo clan, the promise he had once made to never forget slipped further and further from his grasp, lost to the passage of time.

**

Satoru woke up abruptly, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. 

His hand instinctively went to his forehead, feeling the dampness of sweat, and then to his eyes, where he could still feel the lingering dampness of tears. 

He realized he had been crying in his sleep.

What the hell is that dream?

Confusion and unease settled over him as he tried to make sense of the emotions that had stirred within him. 

His heart felt heavy, weighed down by a sadness he couldn't quite place. Was it a dream that had brought him to tears, or was it something deeper, something he couldn't quite grasp?

As he lay there in the darkness, the remnants of his dream slipping away like smoke, Satoru couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered within him. 

Despite the warmth of his surroundings, he felt an inexplicable chill in his bones, as if something precious had been lost to him forever.

Satoru lay back again, his mind still lingering on the vivid dream. Who was that young girl in his dream? He swore he had never met them before. With a sigh, he glanced at his clock and realized he was awake earlier than usual. 

Feeling restless, Satoru got up and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he stood in front of the mirror, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him. The memory of the dream lingered in the back of his mind, elusive yet haunting. 

Despite his attempts to push it aside, Satoru found himself lost in thought, pondering the significance of the dream and the emotions it had stirred within him. 

He is itching to know that person.

But as he rinsed his mouth and splashed water on his face, he resolved to put it behind him and focus on the day ahead. With a determined expression, he left the bathroom, ready to face whatever challenges awaited him.

At Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, Shoko and Geto stared at Satoru as if they had seen a ghost. "You're early, wow," Shoko said, amused, while Geto remarked, "You look like shit, dude."

Satoru groaned at them for being annoying. "Knock it off, you two!" he told them frustratedly as he rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on.

Both Shoko and Geto sat down in front of him after grabbing chairs. "Was it some girl?" Geto asked teasingly.

"I'll punch you in the face," Satoru told him annoyingly, clearly not in the mood for their jokes.

Shoko giggled at the exchange. "So it is a girl!" she said happily, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Satoru sighed heavily, covering his face with his arm at the desk in an attempt to ignore Shoko and Geto's antics. 

The two glanced at each other before shrugging and engaging in another conversation, leaving Satoru to his thoughts.

His mind began to wander, trying to unravel the mystery of the dream that had left him feeling unsettled. 

Did he really forget something? 

The thought gnawed at him, but his childhood memories were a blur, a part of his past that he often avoided digging into.

As Shoko and Geto's voices faded into the background, Satoru couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was missing, something important that he had left behind in the depths of his memories. 

But as much as he tried to push the thought away, it lingered like a shadow, taunting him with its mysterious presence.

Even though it bugged Satoru, he continued his day like he usually did.

**

Satoru woke up in the middle of a field on a hill. Looking around, he found the surroundings peaceful, but confusion flooded his mind as he tried to comprehend how he had ended up there. Just as he was about to shout for someone, he heard a squeak.

His head swiftly turned to see a fox? But it didn't look like a normal fox; its color didn't match the foxes he knew. Perhaps it was a specific type of fox? 

He felt that this was the fox in his other dream.

The fox stared at him with an unreadable expression before turning around and running away down the mountain.

Satoru's eyes widened, and before he knew it, his feet unconsciously began to run, trying to chase after the mysterious fox.

As Satoru made it to the top of the hill where the fox had led him, he stared down to see someone's back facing him. They knelt in front of the fox, giving it a chin rub, to which the fox responded with evident happiness. 

Satoru was about to call out to the person, but to his horror, he found that his voice wouldn't come out. 

Panic surged through him as he tried to walk forward, only to find himself stumbling and falling through darkness. 

The sensation of falling seemed endless, and Satoru's mind raced with confusion and fear. 

What was happening? 

Where was he going? 

And who was that person with the fox? 

**

Satoru woke up again, this time to the sound of his alarm blaring. He sat up straight, turning off the alarm abruptly as he rubbed his eyes. 

The remnants of the dream lingered in his mind, leaving him feeling unsettled.

"Ah, my head," Satoru muttered, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the headache that had crept in. 

The vividness of the dream left him feeling disoriented as if it had a deeper significance that he couldn't quite grasp.

Satoru thought back to the person he had seen in his dream, trying to recall their features. He couldn't shake the feeling that the person was just around his age. 

Could it be that person and the fox were the ones from his dream?

Sighing, Satoru stood up and went about his usual routine, pushing the strange dream to the back of his mind for the time being. 

But the nagging feeling that there was something more to it lingered, leaving him unsettled as he went about his day.

**

Satoru called out to Shoko, who was smoking in the hallway. "Mhm?" she replied, blowing out a puff of smoke.

"Let me guess, did you and Suguru make another bet?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Satoru shook his head, a serious expression on his face.

He leaned against the wall, contemplating his thoughts for a moment before speaking again. "What would you do if you had a dream that felt so real?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Shoko took another drag of her cigarette before responding. 

"Well, I guess it depends on the dream. But if it felt real, I'd probably try to figure out why it felt that way. Dreams can sometimes be a reflection of our subconscious thoughts and feelings, you know?" she replied, her tone thoughtful.

"But all dreams are just made up?" Satoru asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Shoko shrugged, taking another puff of her cigarette. "Well, believe what you want. I already gave you my answer to that question of yours," she said cryptically, leaving Satoru to ponder her words.

Satoru tried to question her further, but Shoko began to feel annoyed. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, her patience wearing thin.

"Look, Satoru, I don't have time for your quarter-life crisis," she snapped, her irritation visible. "If you keep bothering me with these questions, I swear I'll kill you."

Despite her threatening tone, Shoko knew she wasn't strong enough to actually harm Satoru. 

It was more of an empty threat born out of frustration than anything else.

Satoru huffed in frustration as he walked away from Shoko, deciding to ask Geto the same question. 

However, his attempt didn't go as planned, as Geto's patience wore thin much quicker than expected.

As Satoru began to ask his question, Geto's annoyance boiled over, and he almost ended up getting beaten up by Geto for the umpteenth time for annoying him with his constant questions. 

Satoru quickly retreated, realizing that perhaps he needed to find the answers to his questions on his own.

**

Satoru woke up, finding himself back in his clan household's garden. 

It was a maze-like garden, designed to intrigue and challenge visitors. His eyes were drawn to a glowing circle, its color matching his own eyes. 

As it began to move inside the maze, Satoru felt a curious pull, compelling him to follow the mysterious object.

With cautious steps, he navigated through the intricate pathways of the maze, the hedges towering above him like walls of greenery. 

The glowing circle led him deeper into the maze, its light casting eerie shadows on the foliage.

Despite the uncertainty swirling in his mind, Satoru felt a sense of determination driving him forward. He had to find out what this glowing object was and why it had led him here. With each twist and turn of the maze, he moved closer to unraveling the mysteries hidden within.

As soon as Satoru took a turn in the maze, he slowed to a stop when he saw the same fox whining at the back of a glowing young girl. 

The girl was crying and digging into the ground, pushing something that resembled a letter. Satoru's interest was piqued by the unusual scene unfolding before him.

As the girl turned around, Satoru thought he would be able to see their face. 

However, instead of a clear view, their face seemed to glow, obscuring his vision and making it harder for him to see their features. 

They carried and hugged the fox tightly, tears streaming down her face, while the fox whined softly as if trying to comfort them in return.

A sense of empathy washed over Satoru as he watched the heartbreaking scene. He felt compelled to approach and offer his help, but he hesitated, unsure of how to intervene in such a mysterious and otherworldly situation.

Satoru's mouth unconsciously opened, but once again, his voice failed to emerge. His hand shot up to his neck, gripping it tightly in confusion. 

He felt a surge of panic as he wondered if he had suddenly become mute.

Frantically, Satoru tried to speak, but no sound escaped his lips. The realization that something strange was happening washed over him, leaving him feeling helpless.

The young girl stopped crying and stood up, still carrying the fox in her arms before suddenly running away. 

Satoru's eyes widened in surprise as he instinctively followed them, breaking into a run. However, he couldn't seem to move forward. 

Instead, he felt as if an invisible force was pulling him backward, preventing him from reaching the girl and the fox.

Confusion clouded Satoru's mind as he struggled against the unseen barrier, his heart pounding with frustration and urgency. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free. 

As he continued to struggle, his vision suddenly went dark.

**

Satoru woke up again, finding himself back in his dorm room. He sat up straight, blankly staring at the wall, lost in thought. Was this moment real or just another dream? 

To confirm, he pinched himself and winced as he felt the pain, concluding that he was not dreaming at this moment.

Sighing in relief, Satoru tried speaking and was reassured by the sound of his own voice. 

He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. As he looked into the mirror, he winced at the sight of his reflection. 

His face appeared ruined from his messed-up sleeping schedule, with prominent bags under his eyes indicating how little sleep he had been getting. 

As Satoru brushed his teeth, the memory of the garden dream flooded his mind.

He paused, toothbrush in hand, trying to recall the details of the dream. The image of the young girl burying something in the ground lingered in his thoughts.

"Maybe what the young girl buried was real," Satoru mused aloud to himself. 

The idea took root in his mind, and he felt a sudden determination to find out the truth. Without hesitation, he made a decision.

"I should find out," he resolved, determination firm in his voice.

After brushing his teeth, Satoru quickly made up his mind to head back to his clan. He decided to ditch school in order to find the mystery of what the young girl had buried in the ground.

**

The maid spoke in a happy tone, "I'm so glad you came to visit, Gojo-sama," her voice filled with genuine warmth. She had been with Satoru during his childhood and had seen him grow up.

Satoru smiled back at her as they walked down the hallway together. "Well, I just had something to take care of here," he told her, keeping his purpose for returning to the clan grounds vague for now. 

He didn't want to raise any suspicions about his sudden visit. 

"You were just this small back then," the maid said, a fond smile on her face as she reminisced. She placed her hand on her waist, indicating Satoru's small height from his childhood days. 

"You always ran away during lecture time because you had to go to the garden all the time," she chuckled, the memory bringing amusement to her voice.

Satoru froze on his spot, his mind intrigued by her words. "W-what do you mean?" he asked, his voice itching to know the answer.

"I mean you always had these imaginary friends," the maid explained gently, her tone understanding. "We saw that coming since you were a child. Maybe it was because you didn't have any other kids to play with at the time."

“You were always intrigued by the fennec fox or even those morse codes that you always show me.” She added

Satoru's eyes widened as the memories slowly started to come back to him. 

The mention of the fennec fox and the morse code stirred something deep within him, unlocking fragments of his forgotten childhood.

"You should go ahead," Satoru told the maid, his mind consumed with the memories flooding back to him.

"But I thought you wanted to eat some food?" she asked, confused by his sudden change of plans.

"I just had to get something first from my room. I'll join later," Satoru reassured her, his tone urgent as he made his way towards his room.

The maid was about to protest, but before she could say anything, Satoru vanished, using his teleportation ability to make a quick escape. 

She sighed and shook her head, accustomed to his unpredictable behavior, before heading to the kitchen to carry on with her tasks.

Satoru appeared in front of the garden, his determination driving him forward. He focused on remembering the path, trying his best to recall every twist and turn. 

With each step, he made a conscious effort to scan the ground, searching for any signs of disturbance that might indicate something had been dug up.

As he navigated through the maze, Satoru kept an observation eye on his surroundings, his senses heightened with anticipation. 

Every corner turned, every dead end reached, brought him closer to uncovering the truth behind the mysterious events that had unfolded in his dreams.

Satoru found a patch of dirt with growing grass, noticing how oddly dented it appeared. 

Suspicion sparked in his mind, prompting him to dig into the soil using his bare hands.

"The gardener must not have noticed this. I guess they barely come to this part of the maze," Satoru muttered to himself as he continued to dig, determined to uncover whatever lay hidden beneath the surface.

Satoru's hand quickly grabbed the dirty paper, unfolding it with trembling fingers. His eyes widened in astonishment when he recognized the familiar handwriting—it was the letter he had made.

The realization sent a shiver down his spine as he struggled to comprehend how it had ended up buried in the garden. 

Dear Future Me,

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! Remember that time when we met [Reader's name] and Tomorrow in the garden? It was super cool! We made a secret code together, just for us!

If you ever forget it, don't worry! It's

 - --- -- --- .-. .-. --- .-- ! It's from Tomorrow, the fennec fox's name! Isn't that awesome?

I hope you always remember our fun times and our secret code, even when you're all grown up!

From,

Your 7-Year-Old Self! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

Satoru's world seemed to come to a halt as he read the letter, flooded with memories of the day he had written it with you by his side. 

He remembered the joy of creating the secret code together, the excitement of writing the letter to his future self. It felt like a precious capsule of time, frozen in his memory forever.

[Reader’s name] and Tomorrow…

Quickly, he folded the paper and hid it inside his pocket, wanting to keep it safe and close to him. 

With a final glance at the spot where he had found the letter, Satoru carefully replaced the dirt, covering any trace of his discovery. 

As he made his way back, he felt a sense of urgency, not wanting the maid to worry about his absence.

After spending the day at the clan, Satoru returned to his dorm, feeling a sense of peace wash over him. 

As he prepared for bed, he made sure to take a moment to memorize the Morse code, repeating it over and over in his mind until it became second nature.

With the Morse code firmly ingrained in his memory, Satoru climbed into bed, ready to embrace whatever dreams may come. 

As he drifted off to sleep, he held onto the hope that he would find answers and perhaps even more memories waiting for him in the realm of dreams.

**

Satoru woke up on the hill, greeted by the sight of the fall season around him. 

He scanned his surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tomorrow and you, but they were nowhere to be found. Determined, he searched for a pile of leaves, his heart pounding with anticipation.

When he finally found one, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. 

With steady determination, he began to stomp his feet onto the leaves, creating the sound of the morse code echoing through the quiet air.

With each rhythmic beat, Satoru felt nervous while hoping this morse code still worked. 

He continued the morse code, trusting that somehow, it would lead him to see you again.

After Satoru finished the code, he waited anxiously for the familiar voice to call out to him, but seconds turned into minutes, and there was only silence.

Disappointment weighed heavy in his heart as he stared up at the sky, feeling a sense of hopelessness wash over him.

Just when he was about to give up, he felt a gentle nudge at his ankle. 

Startled, he looked down to see the fennec fox, Tomorrow, rubbing its head against him, squealing and smiling in its own unique way.

"Tomorrow," Satoru whispered, his eyes widening in disbelief and wonder. In that moment, a spark of hope ignited within him once more.

Satoru was about to kneel and pet Tomorrow when he heard someone call out to the fennec fox. 

Tomorrow's ears perked up, and with a joyful squeal, it darted toward the person, leaving Satoru momentarily stunned.

Turning quickly, Satoru's eyes widened as he saw you, someone he had been longing to see again, standing before him. 

You knelt down and held out your hand, welcoming Tomorrow as it leaped onto your arm and perched on your shoulder, just like old times.

As you turned your gaze towards Satoru, your eyes slowly widened in surprise. "Satoru," you said, your voice filled with astonishment.

"You still-" Satoru began, but you cut him off.

"What took you so long?" you asked him. 

Satoru was surprised by your words. "You still remember me?" he asked incredulously, pointing to himself.

"Of course. I've never stopped waiting for you," you replied with a smile, your eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. 

Tomorrow whined softly, and you chuckled, giving the fennec fox a gentle chin rub as if you understood its whines.

"I mean, we never stopped waiting for you," you corrected yourself, including Tomorrow in your response to ensure they weren't left out.

Satoru couldn't help but unconsciously smile at the sight of you two together. He observed the both of you for a moment, taking in the changes since the last time he had seen you. 

You looked more mature now, but still carried that familiar warmth in your eyes. Tomorrow remained the same playful fox, bringing a sense of familiarity and comfort to the moment.

"I'm sorry if I forgot our promise. You can punch me all you want," Satoru said, spreading his arms wide, and preparing himself for the certain punch he’ll face. 

However, instead of a punch, he was taken aback as you stepped forward and enveloped him in a warm hug.

Tomorrow, sensing the affection, jumped down from your shoulder and rubbed its head against Satoru's ankle, offering its own form of comfort and forgiveness. 

In that embrace, Satoru felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over him, knowing that despite his forgetfulness, the bond between you all remained strong.

"What matters right now is that you're here," you told him, your voice soft and filled with warmth as you continued to hold him in the embrace. 

Satoru felt a sense of peace wash over him as he slowly wrapped his arms around your back, returning the hug with equal sincerity.

"I won't forget you. Ever. I really promise," Satoru whispered, his words sincere and heartfelt, leaving you giggling softly in response. 

At that moment, surrounded by the presence of each other and the playful affection of Tomorrow, Satoru felt a sense of reassurance that some bonds were truly unbreakable, no matter the passage of time.

He might just not want to wake up anymore.

[808airsoftbros]

Vampire Kiss of Life's Reaction to you Getting Hurt

Julie Han (Alpha)

Big. Big. Big Mistake

Attacking an Alpha's husband especially if it's mating season is the equivalent of signing one's death wish and Miss Julie Han is no exception and is very unforgiving

Julie wouldn't love anything more than to rip the fool into shreds but first, she'd want to send them a final message before they die and feel nothing but dread and fear

But the most important part is that you are safe and ensure you are healthy and all wounds are treated if you sustained any

Would you be traumatized witnessing Julie rip apart the perp? Nope, Julie isn't a monster to let you see that and would likely tell you to stay in a safe hiding spot

"Mama? What happened?" Your innocent-self asked

"Oh, don't worry sweetie, that bad man won't hurt you any longer and I won't allow anyone to do so again, now come along sweetie~,"

Natty (อานัชญา สุพุทธิพงศ์) (Enforcer)

Oh boy... If anyone dares to hurt you in any way, Natty wouldn't hesitate to confront the perp and would ensure something like this wouldn't happen again

If they're are lucky enough that Natty is in a good mood, she might spare their life but not without several broken bones

Natty's super vampire strength can easily snap a human in half like a twig and lucky them that Natty is wise to know her own strength

But after she was done with them, Natty would constantly keep you close to her at all times and demands you to check up with her every now and then if she isn't around

"Come to mommy darling and I'll keep you safe and I promise nobody will be able to bother or hurt you when I'm around~,"

Belle (Shim Hyewon) (Blood Sister)

Belle is completely obsessed and possessive when it comes to you and you are the only thing that comes to her mind so you can imagine how she'll feel when someone lays their dirty fingers on you

She'd be livid and angry beyond the levels she never imagined in her life, Belle would nearly lose control of her emotions because she would feel at fault because she wasn't strong enough to prevent this

Belle would blame herself for failing you and worst of all, her sisters would be greatly disappointed but that was just overthinking thankfully and will handle the situation with pure elegance with a hint of blood

But what's more important to her is that you're safe and breathing, wounds will heal with proper treatment and Belle would go as far as make an example out of them

"Come near my precious baby and you all suffer the same fate as him..."

Won Haneul (Youngest Blood)

Oh boy, Haneul... How should I put this? Haneul is one of the most dangerous and powerful maknae Vampires in the sisterhood and she certainly won't take shit from anyone

Haneul takes her duty of being your wife and mother seriously just like her older sisters and has sworn to protect you from any dangers

She loves you to death and will do anything to ensure you're comfort and happiness so to see someone laying their hands on you is something that will surely make her infuriated with fiery rage

Haneul would chase them down if she has to letting one of her older sisters look after you while she was gone and will deliver a painful death to the person

"This is what you deserve for hurting my little angel and Hell has a special place for you..."

[wwaheoh]

"Celebrity Worship" Robin x gnReader, SFW(?), Angst

a/n: contains blood, stabbing, and themes of possesiveness. jfc it was so hard to find a png pic of robin and not a webp pic its like the new fake transparent shit

Dating a celebrity was hard. Worrying about the paparazzi, time restraints, not being able to go out in public without security, overprotective brothers- though that could just be this specific case, rabid fans, the list goes on. Knowing this, you still accepted Robin’s feelings. It was great, she was the most wonderful person, spending time with her was never dull, and you accepted all of her. The problem was, everyone else.

You would be with her on a walk from a nice dinner when a news reporter would exclaim, “Robin!”, leading the vultures known as paparazzi to immediately circle in from out of the woodwork. Flashes of lights and yells blinding overriding your senses.

Days where you were at your shared home, you’d see fans of Robin loitering around. All for the sake of seeing their precious idol.

On social media, people would talk about how they wished for you two to break up or that you’d somehow die. Stating how you weren’t enough for the superstar and how you were undeserving. Even going so far as to send death threats in your comments or private messages. You always blocked them and tried to pay it no heed. Never telling Robin about what happened, knowing she’d take it strongly.

She loved you, and you her.

-

Robin was hosting an event, a new expansion of the Clockie amusement park opening up and she was there to present its grand opening- as well as go on some rides and get some exclusive merch. You were behind the scenes, standing farther away and watching her do her thing.

Steps unheard behind you, a sharp pain ringing through your lower abdomen as someone shouted at you, spit landing on your face as they screeched at you. “You don’t deserve her!” Warmth trickled down as they pushed you down to the ground, another sharp pain bloomed before they were tackled by security.

You lay there, as blood trickled out of you into the puddle forming underneath. You could hear Robin screaming, having abandoned the stage and run over to your side, crying for medical support.

“No, no, please don’t leave me!”

The darkness called as your eyelids grew heavy, seeing Robin being pulled back by paramedics.

-

Several days in the ICU, the sterile smell, heart monitor, and a sobbing Robin by your bedside were your companions. There were times where Robin would have to leave, commitments already signed off on and statements to give to the press. Surgery was required but had gone off without a hitch, Robin made sure you’d gotten the best treatment possible.

There was the question of how the fan had passed security and been able to attack you. With this being a known issue, you’d think they’d have been on high alert…

One day, Robin came, with you having asked her to come so you could discuss something with her. Today was your final day, only a few more check-ups and you’d be free to go.

She arrived, a few minutes earlier than planned. The bright- if tired smile, on her face.

Setting her bag down, she walked over to your bedside. “Today’s the day you’re going to be discharged! I’m so happy you’re okay.” There was a pause, expecting you to respond. When you didn’t, she continued, “Did you want to go out and eat? I could make reservations!”

“Robin.”

“Mhm?”

“I think we should take a break…”

“H-huh? What do you mean?”

“From us… we should take a break from us.”

Over the days you spent thinking while in admittance, you realized that you weren’t cut to date a celebrity. Robin wasn’t the issue, she was kind, beautiful, inside and out. Someone who worked hard for what she wanted, genuine, with a fire in her soul. But to date a celebrity would be to be put under a microscope, millions of people wanted to be in your position, and some were crazy enough to think that they did the right thing by attacking you, both over the internet and… in person.

“You- you don’t mean that!”

Robin’s voice rose, tears streaming across her face as she moved closer.

You already regretted this. But you couldn’t do this, not with having been attacked for the sole reason of dating someone. Not right now at least.

“Please!”

You wanted to hug her, but the phantom pain in your abdomen rang throughout your body.

“Please…”

“Only for a couple months… it’s not you. Just.. I need to… recuperate.”

Robin didn’t want to keep you, but she also didn’t want you to leave. But the dove with freedom, in her eyes, was better than the dove locked in a cage.

With a hoarse voice, “Oh- okay. Just… call me, when you’re ready. I love you…”

She stood up, every step was as if she were wearing lead boots. She didn’t want to keep you but she also didn’t want you to leave. The free dove was better than being caged. She wanted you to be free, but she also wanted you to be with her. Sunday had always talked about how caging a bird was better, better to be alive than dead, no matter the cost. His words all those years ago echoed in her mind as she made her way to the door.

“I love you too.”

Your voice broke through her spiral.

Only a couple months, and you’d be back. You survived, you just needed some time.

She looked back at you, nodding with a soft smile before leaving.

[throwaway-yandere]

Ansy maybe I can send an idea about this. Maybe this yandere is turning into a zombie/monster, Reader sacrifices or willingly let's the yandere eat reader so the yandere wouldn't hurt others. Other idea, Yandere is a monster/cannibal and reader has a flesh that is very addicting to eat so yandere feels guilty for eating their darling but can't as darling tastes so delicious.

A/n: I'm actually currently writing the prompt I got earlier so here's some short ideas. also, what's up with me writing cannibalism fics for two older brothers with blue-white color schemes?? *shrug*. I'll go with the 2nd idea-ish (I'll tweak it again) in this one. First time doing headcanons so... I'll adios lol.

Content Tags: hello its yandere cannibalism lmao + Whodunit spoilers

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who strangely takes too long to respond to his childhood friend's messages. You're starting to get worried that he's spending too much time inside the dreamscape. Although your race greatly differs from his- being an ordinary human resident and all- you heard numerous stories that Halovians tend to carnally seek glamorous feasts after hosting series of events.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who finally replied to your recent message, telling you "DON'T COME, PLEASE." with bold capital letters. You can only raise an eyebrow, considering you're already on his front door with a fruit basket at hand. In hindsight, perhaps you should've considered giving him a heads-up beforehand instead of rudely announcing your visit. But you are genuinely worried for his overall wellbeing, especially given what happened to his sister.

And perhaps, you were also just looking for someone who could understand your grief as well. He wasn't the only one stripped of their family so suddenly. The thought of your friend starving himself had pushed your own sadness away in favor of sheer platonic worry. That was how strong your bond was.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who shook, mortified at the knocks on his front door. As much as possible, he can't let you in. The current nightmare he calls "HUNGER" was an unforgiving beast. He leaned against the other side of the closed door, breathing heavily.

"(Y/n), n-now is not the time for a visit! Forgive me for this crudeness, but I shan't open the door at present." You hear him inhale shakily. "To have you see me like this undermines all the work I've put in our... friendship."

You sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry. But... can I please just leave this on your porch?"

"... I will not bar you from doing so..."

"Thank you."

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY whose hands refused to stop trembling. You're so close. He can almost taste you behind that door. A chill runs down his spine as he noticed just how much his mouth was watering at the thought of taking a bite.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who thought himself most detestable for his cravings. The Odes of Harmony preaches honesty among its many virtues, and he would drown himself for omitting the grim truth from you. THEY will not be happy with this relapse of his.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who bit his thumb, drawing blood. THEY wouldn't endorse this behavior from a representative of the Family.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who looked at his bleeding finger and laughed sorrowfully at the lingering question on his mind.

Whose blood was it? His... or THEIRS?

Sunday could never be at ease after committing this crime. A Halovian like himself would never allow their vision to be clouded in red, and it appears the devil had saw an opportunity to hurl at two birds with one stone. But that would be an inaccurate way to describe it. His wings had not been clipped; he had brutally torn it away himself.

Penacony's most shrewd man lied to the arrogant fool that evening. There were four murders in that timeframe. One was a stowaway, the other was his precious sister, and the last pair was both your father and mother.

THEIR vision of a happy future for you did not welcome HIM.

All he recalls now was their polite disapproval turned screams when he made an attempt to ask for their blessing. Sunday only realized what he had done the moment he had sunk his teeth down your mother's arm, noticing how your father was already but boney remains of himself.

This Halovian ancestry's secret... it served him no good.

Why was he born into this race and why wasn't he raised just like you?

"Watchmaker... How can I ever forgive myself for this...?"

How can he dare proclaim to mete out justice when he deserves to be served the same sentence? "Sunday" himself is a transgressor, unworthy of yielding Harmony's name.

What heathen he was, to partake in flesh and blood that was not for his stomach simply because they both smelled just like you. What heretic he was, to place anger and hunger above his better judgement.

What karma it was, to find out his sister has been killed in his moments of guilt.

What retribution it was, to face that what he had done to others, will be done unto him.