#Thank you again for the words they hit me IN THE FEELS-

[wonderjanga]

I’m Not Brainwashed.

A blizzard hit Fawcett. It was a pretty harsh one too. His apartment doesn’t have heating too. So, Billy went on a journey to find a warm place to sleep.

First, he tried the corner owned by a nice old man. The man said he could bask in the store’s warmth until the store’s closing time.

Old Man: “I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here overnight.”

Billy: “There’s no need to apologize, Mister. It’s fine.”

Old Man: “But it isn’t. I wish I could keep you longer but I can’t. Here.” *gives Billy some wrapped sandwiches* “Come back tomorrow. I’ll let you stay again.”

Billy: *small smile* “I’ll try. Thanks, Mister.”

Billy would definitely come back tomorrow, but for now he had to find a place to sleep for the night. This was when Billy made the unfortunate mistake of going to the Rock of Eternity to get out of the cold for a moment.

Billy: *plops down in front of the throne eating one of the sandwiches given to him* “Hmm… Where am I gonna go now?”

Billy didn’t know that those would be his last words as he dozed off at the rock.

A full rest later…

Billy: *stirs awake* “Where am I…? The rock? Geez did I fall asleep?” *feels a buzz from his pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm and sees like 95 notifications* “-Oh my GODS.”

That’s how Billy found out the hard way never to sleep at the Rock. Turns out, to everyone else, he disappeared. For a WEEK. Damn (he feels like he deserves to curse in this situation) the Rock of Eternity and the weird way it makes time go by. Let’s see… He’d missed an emergency meeting, several messages from his friends, and an either concerned or subtlety threatening text from Batman. Okay. That’s concerning. Uh… You know what? Before he goes and talks to his friends, why doesn’t he go check on Fawcett first?

So, he left the rock, and guess what? The blizzard is still going. He’d be lying if he said this didn’t peeve him. Thankfully, it was daytime, so that means the Old Man would probably let him in the store again.

Old Man: “There you are! You had me worried.”

Billy: “Sorry.” *sounds ashamed*

Old Man: “There’s no need to apologize. It’s just, you said you would be back the next day, and you never came. I thought something had happened to you! I’ve been stress cooking ever since.” *puts a large bag of food into Billy’s hands*

Billy: “I didn’t mean to stress you. You don’t have to give me this.”

Old Man: “Yes I do.” *points to the spot Billy sat the day he had come in* “Now go sit and eat.”

Billy: “Yes, Mister.” *trudges over me eats, feeling bad for making the man worry*

Soon though, Billy had to leave again. He said goodbye to the Old Man and started walking to the blistering cold. He had to find another place to sleep. He looked up the now night sky. He had an idea. It was a stupid one, but it was an idea nonetheless.

The intercom over head announced Captain Marvel’s presence in the watchtower. Wally paused in eating the quadruple double triple quintuple sandwich he made himself. Wasn’t it like 10 pm in Fawcett or something? Cap almost never came to the Watchtower after seven unless it was for monitor duty. The speedster quickly finished his sandwich and decided to go see if something was wrong.

Eventually, he found the Captain near the sleeping quarters. Most members of the JL had one. That included Cap, but as far as Wally knew, Marvel hadn’t so much as stepped foot in that room.

“Cap, buddy! What’re you doing here so late?” Flash asked, causing Marvel to startle.

“Oh uh… I thought I’d get some sleep.” The Captain said, anxiousness rolling off him in waves.

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep?”

“Well, I don’t, but I still like to, y’know?” Marvel said, scratching the back of his neck.

Flash shook his head. “Not really.”

A small, out of place, awkward silence filled the hallway where they stood for a moment before Flash spoke up again, “Where have you been all week-”

“Night!” Cap cut him off, quickly entering the room and letting the door shut behind him, abruptly ending the conversation.

Wally stood there for a few moments. Okay… Something was definitely wrong with his buddy. Had the speedster done something to upset him? He turned to start walking away. He’d talk to his buddy later.

Wally got maybe seven feet away before he heard a loud crash that sounded like lighting and then loud alarms that started ringing throughout the Watchtower. Something about an intruder? Batman walked over to him. Where he came from, only god knows.

“Flash.” Bruce greeted him as he passed, stopping in front of the door Marvel disappeared into just a few moments before.

“Spooky, what’s going on?” Flash sped over to stand next to him.

”There’s an intruder in this room.” Batman replied, as soon as he finished speaking, another large crash of lightning could be heard. The alarm then stopped blaring. This made the Dark Knight pause and start tapping something on the tablet Wally just realized the other man was holding.

“Did something happen?” Wally asked, leaning over to try and see the tablet.

“The intruder is gone. The Watchtower’s also sustained two major electrical strikes that traveled through the tower, temporarily shut down anything in its way. They traveled to this room.” Bruce said.

It was at that moment, Marvel decided to make an appearance. He looked panicked, and when he registered Batman was standing in front of him, the panic seemed to increase. “Mister Batman Sir! Heeeeeeey…”

“Captain, there’s an intru-” Batman didn’t get to finish that sentence before Marvel interrupted him.

“Sorry Mister Batman Sir, but I really gotta be going.” Marvel said hurriedly before speed walking to the zetas. Wally and Bruce watched him go.

Billy should’ve known it was too stupid of an idea to work! He wanted to see if he could detransform and sleep in the bed of the room, but nooooooooo it just had to trigger the alarm. Billy wasn’t proud about interrupting so many (two) people today, but he really, really needed to go because as soon as Flash and Batman step into his room, they’re gonna see two dark lightning marks on the floor. Then they’re gonna try and ask questions. Then that’s gonna lead to Billy having to explain that he can summon lightning to change into a little kid. Then they’re gonna get mad Billy lied to them about being an adult. Then, they’re gonna try stopping him from being a hero, and from there his life as a hero and as Billy Batson will crumble to literal dust.

Around fifteen minutes after Marvel left… Flash was pacing, practically making trails in the ground, “Spooky, he was gone for a week! Not only that but he was acting weird and we got a notification of a security breach. This might sound crazy, but I think it might be that worm thing he mentioned.”

“Worm thing?” Batman asked, sounding incredulous. Wally was wondering why he found that of all the things they’ve seen and heard unbelievable.

“Yeah! He said one of his villains is this little worm that crawls into your ear and takes control your brain.” Flash said, one of his fingers doing a weird wiggling motion as if to resemble a worm.

“So you think he’s being mind controlled?” Supes asked, sounding super concerned. Oh right, he’s here too. He’d just gotten off monitor duty with J’onn. At the moment, the Martian was in the kitchen getting some snacks.

“Yes!” Flash exclaimed. “It could explain why he up and disappeared.”

“Flash, for all we know, he could’ve been gone due to a family emergency or something along those lines.” Batman spoke.

“Well… just to be safe…?” Supes started, sounding cautious as he trailed off and nodded to a nearby cabinet the three, or at least Clark and Bruce, knew housed bug spray.

That was how they ended up cornering Marvel in Fawcett, Superman restraining the man while Batman sprayed bug spray in his face and ears. Meanwhile Flash was standing to the side nervously, holding a jar in case a certain green worm actually crawls out of Marvel’s ear.

So yeah, today was not Billy’s day, let alone week. Also, it turned out that there was a magical creature that was causing the blizzards. He proceeded to promptly beat it up for all the trouble and embarrassment it inadvertently caused him.

Don’t ask why I stopped formatting the dialogue the way I normally do for a couple seconds. I don’t even know. That’s actually why I didn’t post around eleven like I normally do. It was taking a while.

[maybanksprincess]

choking kink

warnings: choking, unprotected p in v, creampie (oopsies), unprotected sex, kissing, little bit of a size kink, allusions to aftercare.

pairings: soft!dom!jj x sub!reader

requested by this ask, thank you nonnie <3. this is kinda short because its meant to be more of a small blurb!! sorry it took so long and thank you for the request baby.

jj was incessantly rambling about something, you couldn't even repeat back to him anything he was saying if he asked, because truthfully your mind wasn't anywhere near where his was.

all you could think about was how a few nights ago, jj had his hands around your throat, while fucking you in missionary.

the thought made you squeeze your thighs together, desperately trying to gain some friction, all while staring blankly at a wall. but only you knew what was really going on in your head.

when jj picked up on this, he immediately paused on his rambling, and turned to you with furrowed brows. "baby whats wrong?"

your snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of jjs concerned-laced words, "oh, nothing. jus' thinking. sorry..." you say making eye contact with him.

he looks down at your thighs, noticing the way they clench together, then back up to your lips noticing how your bottom one is pulled between your teeth. he flips his hat around with a knowing smirk, and he speaks to you in a cocky tone

"what you thinkin' bout' baby?" he asks you.

"...can you choke me again?" you ask sheepishly, as if it was the most embarrassing question to ask in the world.

you expected him to be confused, disgusted maybe, but the only thing you could register was the wolfish grin on his face.

—

he groans loudly from above you, as his left hand is wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen.

"you like that baby?" he grunts out, his hips slamming down into yours. "i can feel her clenchin' around me when i squeeze ur throat, baby. i think she likes it" he teases

you can feel your resolve weakening as his hips snap into yours at a frantic pace. you look down between your joined bodies to see his dick slide in and out. you tilt your head and watch as his heavy sack hits your backside as he thrusts into you.

you can feel his hand around your throat tightening, causing you to clench around his cock, eliciting a moan out of him.

he leans down to kiss you, his hand still gripping your throat with a gentle force, his hips never faltering against yours. he mumbles into your mouth, "baby 'm gonna cum."

you hum, kissing him back languidly, your throat being squeezed preventing you from answering him.

he fells you convulse around him, and he reaches his peak as well, his hips stuttering against yours, moving at a slower pace now.

the room is filled with jjs loud grunts, and your soft, strained whimpers as you both come undone.

after a few moments, he releases your neck and pants softly against the crook of your neck. he moves his head up to press a soft, passionate kiss to your lips.

"cmon baby, lets get in the shower." he says, scooping you up into his arms.

[soapssuds]

"psych ward patient"!simon riley x psych ward patient!reader, or in which you try to hold onto someone despite how the floor beneath you crumbles.

cw | an abusive nurse (what the nurse does though is not described)

You glanced across the dining hall, your focus on someone who you have noticed before but never had the courage to talk to. You heard the rumors about him. About him being someone from the military, though others say he made the whole thing up.

You don't know how long you've been staring until he is staring right back, seemingly being able to feel your gaze. And instead of doing the "normal" thing and looking away, you continue your unabashed staring.

He wore a sort of mask, your nurse telling you that it was called a balaclava. You asked if you could get one too, but she merely glared at you which shut you up quickly. Your nurse was mean, so you tried to get on her good side as soon as possible and as often too.

It wasn't until you saw him get up from his table (plate of food in hand) and walk towards you did you break out of your thoughts. And, in silence, he had plopped down in front of you in the empty seat.

You continued to stare before deciding to finally open your mouth.

"I like your balaclava!"

Your voice echoed a bit. More than you intended it to.

He grunted out a thank you before turning his attention back to his food, a free hand rising up to pull at the fabric so his mouth was free.

You were quick to notice a scared.

"Wot got you starin' so hard?"

His accent was the first thing to hit you. You wondered where he was from.

"I thought you were pretty."

"Pretty," he parrots, almost like a scoff.

"Mm, when you first got here and weren't allowed the mask. Thought you were pretty. Wanted to tell you, but didn't know how."

He studied you for a moment. His analytical eyes making you feel just a tad bit too self conscious. It felt like he could see everything for what you are... and for what you weren't.

"Your voice is pretty too," you suddenly said.

That was another thing about you. In tense situations and in one's where it was getting suffocating or awkward, you would blurt out whatever you were thinking. A terrible habbit. But you hate being stared at despite staring at others so often yourself.

Just as he was about to say something, your nurse came to retrieve you. Her glare telling you everything you needed to know.

"You. Up."

She barked out those words as if commanding a dog. You could never handle it when someone was yelling at you. Your body always seemed to shut down the moment someone raises their voice at you.

And when you didn't budge, a guard came up to you and grabbed a strong hold onto your wrist to drag you along. Your food long forgotten as the nurse let out an angered huff and quickly followed after.

Simon was left to his questions before someone else sat next to him, "shame, guess she got caught again."

"Caught for wot?"

The new patient who sat next to Simon gave him a sad smile, "that lady nurse is super strict. It's not fun at all in her unit. Doesn't even let patients keep personal items. y/n, though, likes to read, and y/n always gets into trouble when the nurse finds a book in their room. Takes out her anger on y/n, too."

Simon looked to the doors that you, the guard, and the nurse disappeared behind.

"Best not to follow. It'll be over soon."

And true to the patients words, you came back. A little shaken and scared then before. Arms hugging close to your body and legs quivering like a newborn deer. And the quiver didn't do much to hide the slight limp.

Simon wasn't an idiot. He already knew what happened behind closed doors.

"Oh? Still here? Though you would go back to your original table," you said with such a timid voice than from before. It made something within him ache.

"D' you want me t' go back t' my own table?"

You shook your, "no, no! Please...please stay for a while longer?"

Simon nodded, his food already gone and his mask already situated back into place, and stayed.

Originally, he was here for an undercover mission. His target still far from reach.

"No one will even know you don't belong!"

Johnny that bastard.

What Simon didn't expect was to meet you. Well, see you from a distance and be hyper aware of your stare of him the moment he got here. Truth be told, he thought you were with the target. The two of you working together in the safety confines of the psych ward.

Though, the more he silently observed, the more obvious it became that you were just a patient. An innocent little thing being tortured by the ones who claim to be helping.

So maybe after this shitshow of a mission is over, he can take you with him. Maybe even take care of that nurse for you, too.

[gabbytbll]

hello! may i request sylus x reader where mc does martial arts and is so attractively good at kicking ass so sylus and her often spar together and one day during a spar reader unexpectedly finds how much sylus enjoys when she dominates and puts him back on his place? wouldn't say smut but definitely steamy. thank you in advance!

𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑭𝑭 𝑴𝒀 𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑻~

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒: 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 651

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄'𝐒╰┈➤: 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 @huachengnism 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐬:( 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜- 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐎𝐎𝐂! 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧-

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @k1ssyoursister 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦<𝟑

The sound of grunts and gasps of breaths echo throughout the room. "Come on you can do better than that sylus~" you said with a smug smirk on your face. He let out a breath before getting up to spar again. "Well darling i asked you to go a little bit easy on me but it seems you are not" he said, with a breathy groan as he moves in position to start again. You laughed out of disbelief of his words. "I am going easy on you-" you said, interrupted by his punch coming at you. "There's no way you are going easy on me darling" sylus said, while out of breath trying to attack you. You quickly dodge to the right to avoid his punch. 'Oh, so now he's playing dirty?' you thought, while you block his kick. "if you want to act like that you should have just said so~' you said, with a swift kick to his right hip.

He let out a grunt while trying to block your next hit. He backs up right before he rushed forward to try to punch your face. You let out a small grunt as you quickly block it. You bounced back quickly to give him a round house kick to the face. He dodges your kick by a minuscule. "Come on sylus give up or you're going to get hurt" you said, with a smug voice.

Sylus was quickly losing his energy trying to block your strong attacks. The both of you are panting from exhaustion with sweat rolling down both of your body's. He gets distracted following the trail of sweat going down your chest into your sports bra. You see him distracted by something. You quickly run forward to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze your legs tightly to bring him towards you. You quickly threw your body back to land on the ground. Forcing him on his knees with his chest rubbing against yours. You and him both let out a grunt from the impacted,

Sylus panics, he can feel his dick get hard from the act of strength you just showed him. He can feel his dick get trapped between you and him. You accidentally move your hips forward grinding on his dick. He accidentally lets out a moan from how good it feel's. "(y/n) can you let go" he said, in a hurry. You feel something long and thick rub against your clothed pussy. You turn bright red when you feel him jerk forward.

You quickly unwrapped your legs from around his waist and quickly got up to avoid embarrassment. "AH- I'm so sorry i didn't mean for that to happen" you said in a rush while trying to calm down. He lets out a chuckle as he gets up from off the floor. "Don't worry about it darling, i was just surprised at how strong you were~" he said in a teasing tone of voice. You turned bright red like a tomato again. "But it was hot~ can you do that again" sylus said, while trying to find his breath.

You let out a squeak at his words. Out of embarrassment you quickly round house him to the face knocking him to the floor. You rushed to him trying to help him up. " AH- I'm so sorry once again i wasn't expecting you to say that I'm so sorry" you said apologetically. He let out a groan in pain. He raises his hand asking you for help silently. "Wow what a kick~" he said, with a breathy groan. You take his hand to help him up off the floor. "Is there anything i can to make it up to you with?" you said, with a small smile. He looked at you for a few seconds. "Yea lets go on a date right now" he said with a smirk.

THE END

𝐓𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞,𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐘𝐀𝐘𝐘𝐘𝐘 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭<𝟑.

©️ 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲𝐭𝐛𝐥𝐥. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

[hyukasmiles]

—Yeonjun—

Yeonjun misses you. Misses you so so so bad, hates when he has to be away from you. Texts you over and over and over again that he wishes you were with him, pouts to his members when you reply that he’ll be home in a few days and it’ll be ok.

He knows it’s true, two more days in Japan and he’ll be back in your arms, but here; alone in his hotel room he’s so overwhelmed with missing you tears well up in his eyes.

You pick up his facetime almost immediately, your tired, pretty features making him miss you more. “Awe..” You coo, kissing your screen. “My Junnie is crying.”

“I miss you.” His frown hurts. “My heart hurts.”

“I miss you too! So excited for you to come home!” You shift, so innocently, just trying to get comfortable but your pretty tits come into his view and Yeonjun is reminded of another thing he misses. “You’ve got my perfume, spray it on your pillow it might help you sleep.”

The tank top you’re wearing is so thin, pretty nipples almost completely visible through the fabric. “Yeah… that’s a good idea.” He doesn’t tell you he’s already drenched his bed and clothes in it, or that he’s quickly getting hard in his pants.

“Three days, Junnie, you’ll make it.” You move again, yawning and stretching and putting your body on display for him. “I miss you too, I had your hoodie on earlier but it’s too hot for it.”

Surely you won’t notice his hand slipping into his waistband. “We’re coming back a day early this time, so only two.” You make a noise in the back of your throat, eyes going wide as you smile out a yay.

“Really!” Your face presses closer at the same time his hand wraps around his achy cock. “That’s great! I can’t wait!” He can’t either, tempted to book a plane ticket and rush back to you now. “Are you guys having fun in Japan? Do any shopping before the concert?”

“Ye-yeah, I got you some stuff.” Another little noise and his hand slowly tugs upwards in his dick. “A sh- A shirt and some makeup from don quixote.”

“Awe, thank you.” Yeonjun’s hips jump, your hand would feel so much better, any part of you would feel better. Your tits are in his view again and the thought of fucking them draws a whine out of him, stopping you mid sentence. “You ok?”

“Yeah..” His voice is unstable, hand speeding up as you raise an eyebrow. “I’m jus-t tired and miss y-you.” His thumb swipes over his tip and another whine is pulled out of him.

“I guess I should hang up if you’re so tired.” You pull away from the camera, perfect boobs finally on full display for him. He wishes he was there to see them in person, too squeeze and lick and kiss and fuck.

Yeonjun panics a little, hand stopping as you try to say goodnight. “No- no, I want to hear your voice.” He rolls onto his stomach, hips hitting against the mattress. “Need to hear your voice. I just miss you so much.” His phone slips out of his as he reaches for a perfume-soaked pillow, groaning as your smell fills his brain.

“Do you feel good, Junnie?” You coo, seeming to have caught on to him. “Pick me up, I want to see.” Yeonjun props his phone against the bed frame, sitting up to show you his erection. “Look at that, so hard.”

“I miss you. Want to fuck your tits so bad.” You kiss your teeth, free hand cupping your boob and jiggling it a little. “Wanna cum all over them n’ then fuck your pretty cunt.”

“Show me how you’d do it, Junnie.” He picks up the pillow again, folding it in half and sliding his weeping dick between the fold. His knuckles turn white with his grip, hips rolling into the pillow. “Does it feel as good as me?”

“No.” He laughs, hips hitting the pillow harder. “Your cunt is so fucking warm, makes me feel like my dick is gonna melt, and your skin his so soft in my hands. It’s just fucking heaven to fuck you, nothing will ever come close.” You blush at his words, cooing about how sweet he is.

Yeonjun’s hips drop moving to rut against the mattress again, he can feel pressure building up, your pretty face and tits edging his release. “I wanna see you cum, Junnie.” His orgasm hits him then and there, shoulders sagging as he cums over the cotton sheets.

“Fuck- fuck I wish you were here.” His hips slow as he calms down, using his hand to milk out every last bit of cum. “Feels like a waste when my perfect girlfriend looks so pretty covered in my cum.”

—

inbox always open 🎀

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hey babe, i love every Nathan fic that you wrote, and if you’re open to request and feeling fluffy would you do the honor to tell us what happen after Need You? I just want to snuggle up with Nathan so badddfdd, Thank You🥰

Awww <3 <3 <3 Of course!

Thank You

Nathan Bateman x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Nathan is tired.

Warnings: Fluff, cuddles, Nathan being playfully grumpy, teasing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 630

“Hurry the fuck up.” Nathan says from the doorway. He stares at you a little more intensely than he normally would because his glasses are already off and on the bedside table.

You snort and nearly choke to death swallowing toothpaste. You manage to spit it out into the sink. “I’m brushing my teeth?” 

“You’re taking hours.”

“It’s been two minutes.”

“Far too long,” he uncrosses his arms, “You’ll damage your gums, come on.” He moves towards you and you yelp and giggle, brandishing your toothbrush like a weapon.

He pauses and smiles. 

“Let me wash my mouth, then I’ll come to bed. I’m not having you drag me again.” 

“Why?” He grins, pretending to start to move closer. “You liked it last time.” 

“I did n-” You stop yourself, you’re not even going to try to argue with him when he’s in this kind of mood. No matter what you say he’ll throw something else back, playfully of course. And over the top. And incorrect. It wasn’t worth the energy. 

So you poke your tongue out at him quickly before you turn and rinse your mouth with water.

His hands around your waist make you laugh. “Nathan.” 

“What?” He leans his chest onto your back like a baby koala. “You're comfy.” 

“Oh my god.” You mutter, but there’s humour in your voice. “You big baby,”  you tease as you stand. 

“Yes.” He pauses, meeting your eyes in the bathroom mirror. “Don’t make me do the baby voice again.” 

“Okay! You win.” You grin, turning to hug him and he kisses your cheek. 

“Bedtime.” He whispers and you just about manage to jump out of his grasp before he tries to pull you to bed. “Hey.”

“I’m going to bed!” You laugh as you dance out of the room and get under the covers. 

He smiles, turning off the bedside lamp and quickly joining you. He pulls off his t-shirt as you both get comfortable. He quickly urges you onto your side, so he can hug you, being the big spoon. 

The second your head hits the pillow he’s tugging at your top. “Take this off.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why do you want it off?” 

“Want to feel your skin.” He grumbles, “Instead all I can feel is this.” He pulls at your top again, snapping it back a little. 

“Ow.”

“Sorry, also that didn’t hurt.” 

“How do you know it didn’t hurt?” 

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that hard.” 

“You don’t know what it felt like to me.” You give him a look over your shoulder and he kisses your cheek. 

“I can tell you real ‘ow’, from that fake ‘ooowww’ any day of the week.” 

You poke your tongue out at him again.

“Very mature.” He grins, “If you don’t stop doing that I’m gonna give you something to put in your mouth.” 

“I thought you were tired.” 

“I am.” He pushes his hands up under the bottom of your shirt. “A goodnight blowjob, that sounds great.”

You shake your head and laugh, but help him to take your top off so that he can snuggle you to your back. “You really want a blowjob?” 

“Always, but I don’t think I’d get it up for a billion dollars at the moment,” he yawns, curling up closer to you. “You can try though.” You know his eyes are already shut and he’s just playing, but you still make a show of pretending to try to turn over and paw at his waistband. 

“Nooo,” he mutters softly, rubbing his face and beard into your back. “Sleepy time.” He kisses your skin and breathes deeply, finally able to relax. 

You chuckle and settle back down to go to sleep. 

“Thank you.” You hear him mumble just before he dozes off. “For coming to bed.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[megumiluvv]

Choso has noticed these little things with you lately. Just simple things, like how you clean his apartment while Yuji naps, or how you take naps on his couch on particularly boring days. He finds himself subconsciously leaving a blanket out on the couch before he leaves for work, or stacking the pile of dishes in the sink so it’d be easier to manage.

He comes home after a rough day, working one of his umpteen jobs where many customers (who aren’t always right, he finds) yell at him for hours, and sees that you’re asleep on the couch, the dishwasher is going, and dinner has been cooked. Though nothing regarding the dinner has been actually eaten, maybe you were waiting for him to come home? He sets his things down, trying to be quiet and let you sleep, but his keys fall and wake you up with a start.

“Who’s there?” You sit up, sleepiness evident in your voice.

“It’s just me, don’t worry.”

“Gah, I fell asleep,” you mumble and get off the couch, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders.

“That’s alright. Yuji still asleep?”

“Yeah, gotta wake him up…”

“I’ll do it,” Choso says.

“No, you look like you had a rough day, and if I sit down again, I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Didn’t know my couch was that comfortable.”

You laugh and go to wake Yuji, while Choso warms up the food. Yuji clings to you when you exit the boy’s bedroom, Choso can tell he’s been asleep for a while. The kid perks up when he sees food, though, and hops from your arms to the dinner table.

Another little thing Choso has noticed: you always walk certain paths to get somewhere in his apartment. Like taking the left side of the hall to get to Yuji’s room, or going behind the couch to get to the bathroom. Round the corner quickly and dodge the ends of the kitchen island by curling your body the other way. However, sometimes you miss and hit your side, making Yuji giggle and eliciting a groan of pain from yourself.

You sit down, rubbing your side that’s sure to bruise tomorrow, and poke Yuji’s nose playfully. The boy giggles and shoos your hand away, then takes a bite of his food. Choso sits with you two and eats quietly, just observing.

When did this all start to feel so normal? You’re just his neighbor, but you feel like part of the family now. You’ve also gotten used to when Sukuna visits, even combatting the witty remarks with some of your own.

“Choso, chooosoooo, anyone there?” You tease and get his attention.

“Hm?”

“Are ya tired or somethin’? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Ah, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s alright, just wanna check on you is all.”

“Thank you. I’m alright, just had a long day at work.”

“I see. Go get some sleep, I’ll put Yuji to bed and lock the door on my way out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this. Take care of yourself, Choso.” You smile and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Why are you so perfect?

Yuji watches as Choso goes to bed and looks up at you. “He looks at you like how Megumi looks at pretty flowers.”

You would’ve choked on your food if you didn’t swallow two seconds before the boy spoke. “What does that mean, Yu?”

“I dunno, maybe he thinks you’re pretty. I think you are. I’m gonna go put on my pajamas.”

And just like that, the boy disappears, leaving you alone to process the words he said. You eventually snap out of it and clean up, tucking Yuji into bed and making sure he’s asleep before going next door to your apartment. What did Yuji mean by that? Is there a chance he likes you too? You never noticed anything out of the ordinary, so what little thing did Yuji notice?

Masterlist

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[jsprnt]

as the saying goes: with every high, comes a low

kenan yıldız x reader

A/N: writing this brought back both good memories and ptsd from the euros 🥲🥲 based on this request, thank you for requesting 🤍🤍 also this is so sappyyy, guess who’s in her feels? 😛

W/C: 1.090

ninety minutes of straight-up torture.

a small fifteen-minute break to calm your pounding heart down, before it starts heavily thumping against your rib cage again.

you wouldn’t be surprised if you dropped onto the floor due to the amount of times your heart rate had skyrocketed.

anxiety and anticipation.

the only words that could describe your mental state in the moment.

losing a match was painful, but even more painful after turkey had been doing so well in the tournament.

as the partner of a football player, you carried your own sadness, and your boyfriend’s sadness.

you bite your lip when the referee ends the match. enough to draw a small amount of blood. the metallic taste fills your mouth, and makes you feel even more horrible.

the chants of the turkey supporters had been non-stop since the start of the game. at first full of joy, then encouragement, then slowly trailing off to tears and disappointment.

even so, everyone had an incredible sense of pride in their hearts for their country. no matter the loss.

when you're given the go-ahead, all family members and friends of the turkey players make their way out of their seats.

you hurry as you go down, your heart aching as you imagine all of the disappointment and anger brewing in your lover’s heart.

when you finally reach him, kenan immediately pulls you into a private room. without a word, his arms wrap around your back, and he buries his handsome face in the crook of your neck.

feeling his breath hit your skin, you sigh shakily. not caring about his sweaty hair and body, you reach up to run your hand down his back.

"are you okay?"

of course, he wasn't, but you could barely register how fast the team had lost control of the match. let alone form a coherent, comforting thought.

you rake your unoccupied hand through his hair, your heart beating in your ears as you try to find the words to comfort your boyfriend.

though, his lack of response told you enough.

after a long stretch of silence, you start spilling your thoughts. licking your dry lips before speaking.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, kenan.."

the words leave your mouth with deep emotion. followed by a tremble of your lip as you try to keep your tears at bay.

"whatever people say, whatever anyone says doesn't matter. you worked so fucking hard, you put your entire soul and body into it. that's what matters. you tried, and I know you did your best.."

you pause as a shaky sigh leaves kenan's mouth. his athletic body pressing into yours, the smell of sweat, notes of his musky cologne, and your perfume creating a familiar atmosphere.

your heart breaks when you hear a small sniffle. your eyes closing as you hold back your own tears.

"you can cry. it's okay, cry it out. I know it hurts, baby.." you whisper, finally feeling hot tears hit your own cheeks, as his transfer down your neck.

"I worked so hard. so many nights and days- and this is the performance I put on when my team, and my entire country is leaning on me!.."

"shh, don't blame yourself, honey. I know it will sound cliché, but you did your absolute best. you can’t do more than your best, baby..”

you pause to pat his back, tears messing up your makeup, and making your nose run.

"it was going so well, you guys created so many chances. it was just an unlucky second half.."

"to have something in the palm of my hand, and then to just lose it within twenty minutes- hurts so fucking bad.." his shoulders shake with the painful sobs. the emotion expressed by your boyfriend causing a soft whimper to leave your own mouth.

"never ever think that the entire thing was on you. It was destined to be like this. as humans, we will learn and grow, even if we don’t see immediate results.."

kenan moves his head to look at you, your heart practically cracking at the sadness on his face.

the hopeless look in his beautiful brown eyes, the irritation of his soft skin- and the fastened pace of his pulse.

"why are you crying?" he asks, and you can swear he starts crying harder after seeing the tears on your face.

"because, you're hurting. don't ever want you to feel bad or upset.." your voice cracks, and you tighten your grip on the fabric of his training jacket.

"fuck. don't you ever cry over me, baby.." kenan rasps, cupping your cheek with his roughened palm. both your eyes visibly red and irritated from the salty tears.

"how can I not?" you question, before pulling his head into your neck again. cradling the back of his head, as you hug each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"i love you so much. your joy is mine. so how can your hurt not be mine?" you ask, raking your fingers through his hair.

"i love you too. so bad it kills me to see you cry over me.." he chokes out, his fingers curling around your body, holding you incredibly close against his warm skin.

you hold each other for a couple of minutes, the only sound in the room being the cold air conditioning, and the sound of your combined sobs.

you can hear kenan take a deep, stuttering breath, before he speaks.

"we’re such crybabies.."

his voice is raw, but thick with fondness and warmth..

your lover always knew how to lighten up the mood, while others could never do so in similar situations.

you chuckle a little through tears, pulling back to look at him. you raise your hand to wipe the tears on kenan's cheeks, his bloodshot eyes on yours.

pushing back his hair, you expose his forehead, wiping away the rest of the moisture with your sleeve.

"your eyes are all red.." you comment, knowing you probably looked the exact same.

"what do you need when we get back to the hotel? a bath? a cuddle? good food?" you inquire, wanting to provide him the best comfort you could offer.

you watch him take a breath before he speaks, and he whips out a tissue from his pocket, before dabbing at the tears on your face.

he was so gentle and thoughtful, like always.

"I just need you. I just need my sweet baby next to me, and everything will be alright.."

[nakylvr]

dani x tmasc reader smut?

KILLING MYSELF. just kidding, obviously. thank you anon for requesting this cause i was too nervous to make it myself 😭 i think i got a bit carried away i apologize (not really)🙏

— STAR SHOPPING 🛡️

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, tmasc!reader, dom!reader, sub!dani, strap on, papi kink (sorry not sorry the latino in me came out), degradation, mirror sex

minors dni

it's not often that you get jealous. with the reassuring words dani would give you whenever she could tell you were, it was difficult for you to get jealous to the point you were actually upset. except for today, that was.

"fuck, baby, look at you,"

you have dani on her knees in front of you, her hair in one of your hands to keep her looking at the mirror in front of you with your other hand at the base of the faux cock, sliding it up and down her folds. you occasionally push just the tip in before pulling out again, watching her whimper as you kept doing it.

"yn, please," daniela is already near the point of begging, your teasing for the past twenty minutes having that become her final resort.

"you trying to beg? you can do better than that," you scoff. "if you want it so bad, you should beg a lot more."

a curse leaves dani's mouth under her breath at your response, looking at you through the mirror and seeing the look on your face that has her knowing you're serious. "please, yn, i need you so bad. please fuck me, papi," she knows exactly what she's doing by calling you that, it was one of the easiest ways to get what she wanted. and judging by the way your eyes changed the second it left her mouth, it worked.

without saying a word, you swiftly push all the way inside her, the wetness of her making it easy for you to slide in and instantly build a rough pace. a surprised gasp leaves her mouth at your sudden actions, her head falling down until you yank on her hair to have her look in the mirror again. "uh-uh," you shake your head. "you're gonna watch me fuck you like the slut you are, and you're gonna fuckin' enjoy it, understand? keep your eyes open," you hiss.

the second you start roughly fucking her, loud moans begin coming from dani as she tries to nod her head to your words. "ye-yes,"

"yes, who?" you pry, pulling on her hair again eliciting a whine from her.

"yes, papi," she whines. "god, you fuck me so good," she struggles to keep her eyes open and looking in the mirror, the sight of seeing you take her like this having her moans getting needier. "har-harder, fuck, pl-please,"

another scoff leaves your mouth at her plea, rolling your eyes and smacking her ass roughly, eliciting a moan from her as you snap your hips against hers harder. "you're such a fuckin' slut, you know that? begging me to fuck you like this, you did that shit on purpose, didn't you?"

"n-no," dani shakes her head as best as she can. but the way she's pushing herself back onto your cock every time you slam into her says otherwise, which you notice. "i wouldn't- 'm not-" she struggles to form words past her moans that get louder when you yank on her hair again seeing her eyes start to close.

a chuckle leaves your mouth as she struggles to respond, pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and yanking on it. "no? hm, that's funny. considering the way you're basically fucking yourself on my cock like one," your voice is dripping with venom as you speak, smiling at the way her jaw falls open when you hit her g-spot.

"fuck!" she gasps at the feeling of the tip hitting the special spot inside her, her jaw slack as she doesn't even try to contain the noises coming from her. "oh my god, 'm gonna cum!" she whines.

"already?" you're practically grinning at this point as you release your grip on her hair, your hands moving to her waist and pushing down causing her to arch, thrusting deeper inside her. "you wanna cum? fine then, just know that this is just beginning, baby."

the new angle has dani shoving her face into the sheets beneath her as strings of loud moans fall from her lips. "f-fuck, please papi, l-let me cum, please," her whining gets needier the closer she gets to cumming. you don't respond, instead just pounding into her waiting for her to cum. within a minute, a long whine comes from her as her body shakes, cumming on your cock.

a whimper escapes her lips as you slow down but don't completely stop, keeping the strap buried deep inside her as you grab her hair and pull on it to have her look at you through the mirror again.

"what did i say, baby? we're just getting started."

[variety-fangirl]

On My Own / Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: It's the morning after Rafe's threatening behaviour, you're still shaken up, but JJ convinces you to go to the police for the safety of you and your baby. Your relationship with JJ also takes a turn for a huge change.

Warnings: typical toxic Rafe behaviour, swearing, threats, police reporting.

Authors note: Feel free to skip this! Here we are again with my terrible timing and scheduling. For the longest time, I had no ideas for the next part and my scheduling took a turn for the worst. I've been trying my hardest to get into University for the past 3 years and am finally here! There's been a lot going on personally behind the scenes for me too, so things have been difficult tbh 😅 But I've finally figured out where I want this next part to go, I also took longer to write this so it was a longer part for the wait 🫡

Word count: 2.6k

After a filling and delicious breakfast made by Sarah, you showered and dressed for the day. You knew you would need to speak to the police about Rafe's behaviour last night, but honestly? You didn't want to. You were frightened by the power he held because of his family and wealth. Peterkin was the only one you could trust if you were to report him, you knew she would listen and take you seriously. She wasn't corrupted or took bribes to hide the truth, she always did the right thing if she could.

You had been mulling over the idea all morning as you brushed your wet hair. You wanted to protect your baby from being near Rafe if you could, they deserved better than to deal with an unstable and cruel man like him. Did you regret your baby? Absolutely not. But did you regret ever getting involved with Rafe? Yes, more than anything. You knew what you had to do, you just didn't know if you had the strength to do it. (hehehe).

A knock sounded on your door, pulling you from your heavy thoughts. You were honestly thankful for the distraction. John B poked his head around the door as you called him in with a smile. He entered your bedroom, opting to sit on the bed next to you. He bumped shoulders gently with yours, "Hey you. How are you doing?" He questioned as you peered at him. You bumped his shoulder in return, offering your most convincing smile.

"I'll be fine once Rafe is away from me and my baby." You mumbled as you rubbed your clothed bump affectionately. John B nodded and placed his hand on top of yours, always the big brother you needed. He brought his arms up and around your shoulders, lovingly pulling you into his chest. "We'll make sure he never comes near either of you again, and even so, we are all here to protect you. No matter what." You slapped at his arm playfully, "Stop! You'll make me cry!" You could already feel the hormonal tears building in your eyes. That telltale burn. He laughed loudly, not stopping you from hitting him.

Once he calmed down, he teasingly learnt closer to your ear. "Sooooo, what's happening with you and JJ?" the clear smirk sounded even in his voice, you could feel the motion against your head. You turned to glare at him, not at all serious, "Do me a favour? Just fuck off." You pushed at his chest gently, not budging him but it's the action that counted for your pride. He laughed once again before letting you go to look at you properly.

"Seriously though. What's going on?" He questioned with a gentle smile as you scooted to face him fully. You knew you could trust John B with anything and that it wouldn't leave this bedroom unless necessary. You shrugged, "Not sure. Didn't even think he saw me that way until this morning. Now I'm rethinking everything, but not necessarily in a bad way." You commented thoughtfully. You were honestly surprised that your best friend was in love with you, and for years for that matter.

"I mean, I think you should give it a shot. You know no one would love you as fiercely or loyal as him. And he loves the baby already. Plus, you've been best friends for years, so you know him well." He mentioned, naturally bigging up his best friend like the good bro he is. "Only if you want to though, of course. No pressure, I won't mention this conversation to anyone else. Just think about it yeah?" He pulled you in for a proper hug, a natural bear hug that had you sighing contently.

You nodded against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in return. The feeling of love and warmth pulling the tears out of you. "Ahhh, for god sake!" You yelled laughing, frustrated with your over-emotional hormones. You both laughed, yours coupled with sniffles. He held you till you pulled yourself together, chatting about how best to go about things. Until you were ready to let go and go to the police station.

John B left the room whilst you finished getting ready for the anxious day ahead of you. You were beyond nervous, especially about how Rafe would react. Lord knows he would hear about your visit to the station through nosy dickheads watching you. You could already feel a headache forming. You groaned as you put on your shoes, with great difficulty, and then made your way downstairs to join the gang.

Everyone was here, waiting for you whilst they ate or drank coffee. Not everyone was a morning person, *cough cough JJ and John B*. But everyone was up and here for you. They had all been filled in with the details of what had happened. JJ offered to take you to the station while the group returned to John B's. You were so thankful for them all, but JJ most of all. He'd held your hand, metaphorically and physically throughout this whole process. No matter how tough it's been or how difficult you thought you were to be around, he was always there with encouraging words. Not once frustrated with you.

You and JJ pile into your car to go to the station, while the gang returns to the chateau. JJ drove instead of you and insisted on doing so, whilst you bathed in nerves. Music from the radio played quietly in the background as you stared out the windows. You hadn't realised your leg was bouncing repeatedly against the floor, that your hands in your lap were pulling at your sleeves, or that you were biting the skin on your lips absentmindedly. You only noticed when JJ's hand grabbed your knee, rubbing the area soothingly.

You turned to look at him, your knee now still, "it's going to be okay, sweetheart." JJ reassured, trying to calm your chaotic mind and seeping nerves. You placed your hand on top of his, taking a deep breath in as you laced your fingers with his. You place your unoccupied hand on his arm, cuddling his arm into you. You hum contentedly at the warmth he naturally produces, snuggling closer to him. You caught soft wafts of his cologne wrapping around your senses and it instantly helps calm you.

You sigh, "Thank you." You speak quietly, comforted by his desire to help you feel better. He squeezes your knee, not needing to say anything, he already knew you were grateful. He hums, "What were you thinking about in that beautifully stressed brain of yours anyway?" he wonders with a reassuring smile, his eyes staying on the road ahead. You also look forward, watching the sunny scenery go by. People were going about their normal day-to-day activities, some rushing around or exercising. Everyone else's normal lives... unlike yours, which was chaos because of one single man.

You breathe in and then out through your nose deeply before answering him, "Thinking about... what Rafe will do or how he'll react when he finds out. I don't imagine it'll be long. That prick always seems to hear about everything, even before others do. It's like he has eyes everywhere at all times or something." You huff in frustration, looking out the passenger window, "I can't eat, shit or piss without that asshole knowing... So who knows what he'll do when he finds out I've gone to the station to report his behaviour." You whisper the last part, feeling dejected about what was to come with him.

JJ squeezed your knee again, to try and help calm your raging nerves and worries. He nods, "I know. It's going to be difficult but we need to stop him somehow. He needs to stay away from you and the baby, he's dangerous. Or I'll do something that'll get me into trouble." JJ mumbled the last part, seemingly more to himself than to you. You sigh, the last thing you wanted was JJ getting intro problems or going overly out of his way for you. He does enough for you as is, so you don't want him to do anything more.

-

It wasn't before you reached the station and parked outside, opposite the building. You sat in the car for a few minutes before going in, trying to calm yourself long enough to talk to the sheriff. It was beyond frustrating that this was where you were at in your life. That this was what you were dealing with because you stupidly fell in love with the wrong man. You wanted to smack yourself across the head for being an idiot, despite knowing his reputation. You fell for his charm and good looks, like an absolute fool. But now you were here and you couldn't change the past. But you could shape your future.

You look to JJ and nod, letting him know you are good. You both get out, taking your time with JJ's help and walk towards the building. You were going to use every trick in the book to stop Rafe from coming near you or your child again. You would report and record everything that Rafe has done that would class as a risk to your child to keep him away. So help you, you would protect your child with everything you could. With your own life if you need to.

You make your way inside and speak to the man at the reception desk, requesting to speak to Peterkin privately. He points to the chairs behind you in the small waiting area, "Wait here for a bit while I speak with her. She's busy at the moment, so it may take some time." You nod in understanding, "It's urgent, so I can wait. Thank you, sir." You reply as you turn to sit with JJ on the wooden chairs. The chair squeaked in protest from overuse and years of never being replaced.

You and JJ wait as patiently as possible, chatting to keep yourselves entertained and pass the time until Peterkin arrives. JJ held your hand the whole time, sensing your nerves returning tenfold. If your leg repeatedly tapping against the ground or your fiddling free hand had anything to say about it. You were waiting for around fifteen minutes, getting more antsy as each minute passed by. By the time Peterkin called you to go into her office, whilst JJ waited in the waiting area, you were a sweating bucket of nerves.

Peterkin closed the door behind you both as you took a seat opposite her desk, your hands resting on your stomach. "Some water?" She asked with a smile, walking over to her cooler. You nodded, "Yes, please." You were in need of something cold to cool you down and quench the thirst that had formed since waiting. She filled a cup and then offered it to you before sitting at her desk, "Thank you." You said gratefully.

"So, y/n. What kind I do for you? Congratulations are clearly in order." She motioned to your stomach with a kind smile, she was always so nice to you. Still is. "Thank you, not long to go. My pregnancy is actually related to why I'm here." She nodded, giving you the opportunity to speak up.

You gave her the rundown of what Rafe had been doing since the day you confronted him about your pregnancy. It took you half an hour to mention everything you could, trying your hardest not to forget any details. She asked questions where necessary and nodded when listening, all while writing down notes. Peterkin was well aware of Rafe's behaviour, he was a celebrity at the station. Peterkin wouldn't admit it but she did not like Rafe at all. She was completely understanding and comforted you when you teared up about last night.

"Damn, honey... That damn Rafe. I'm sorry for what he's been putting you through, you don't deserve any of that. But legally? I can't do anything. Unless he threatens or hurts you and your baby physically, I can't report anything for you. My hands are tied. Off the record: No matter how much I personally would love to see him punished. That kid is nothing but trouble. But as soon as something else happens, with Rafe, there is no doubt that he will, okay?" She sighs frustratedly, knowing already how deflated and frustrated you must feel.

You nod, hiding all the true feelings that wish to come to the surface underneath. "I understand, if there is anything that I can do, please do let me know. And I'll inform you of anything else that happens. Thank you, sheriff." You get up from your seat and make your way to the door feeling completely hopeless about what you'll do with Rafe next. Peterkin stops you just as you're opening the door, still in the doorway. You see JJ getting up from his seat at the sound of the door opening.

Peterkin hands you a sticky note with her name and number in black pen, "anything you need, just call. Anything. Okay?" She rubs your arm gently after she passes the note to you, a motherly comfort sort of rub. It made you smile, despite all the negative emotions you were feeling. You nodded, "Thank you."

You walk towards JJ, putting the sticky note in your bag for safekeeping. You'd add her contact info to your phone later on. "You good?" JJ questions with concern laced in his tone. You'd been in there for a little while, he'd probably been worried about you. You smile as you look at him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and leaning into his side gently. JJ smiled down at you in return as you answered him.

You explain everything to JJ on the way back to the chateau, all while trying your best not to think all that Rafe had planned since last night. He was beyond angry at you for doing nothing wrong, but in his eyes, you'd double-crossed him. It gave you chills. JJ did his best to assure you that they would all look after you and that he'd kill Rafe if he came near you or the baby, which you appreciated deeply. But you didn't want to get them involved. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't yours either, but you'd made your choice that first time you let Rafe lure you in with a kiss at the back of a house party at Sarah's.

You'd figure something out, you always did. You wouldn't let Rafe win, no matter what. That prick got his own way, way too often. But not this time, no. Rafe was going to stay away from you and your baby. Even if that meant having to flee somewhere he wouldn't find either of you. You turned and looked at JJ as the car stopped, both just taking a moment before you went inside. "Oh, you have something on your cheek." You pointed out, looking intently at his perfectly clean cheek. He started rubbing at his cheek confused, "gone?" he questioned with furrowed brows.

You shook your head, "come here, I'll get it for you." You motioned for him to come closer and as soon as he did, your lips were on his. Just a simple 3-second pec, to test the waters, despite his confession to John B this morning. You pulled away and stared at him with anticipation of his reaction. His eyes were wide in shock and you thought you'd fucked up. You went to move away but JJ grabbed the back of your neck and desperately pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours with a moan.

The more you looked at JJ, the more the talk with John B from this morning played on your mind. You'd been thinking of JJ as something more ever since, trying wouldn't hurt, would it? He wouldn't hurt you the way Rafe did and will. JJ was different and you couldn't lie that you'd never looked at him that way. Trying wouldn't hurt, would it?

Taglist: @bardi4l @fictionconnoisseur @thecraekenslover @brooklynscherry-z

[hotchshands]

Somebody's Watching Me | Chapter 2

Masterlist| Taglist | Other Chapters

Summary: The BAU continues their investigation into your stalker. As the unsub grows bolder, they grow closer to uncovering your identity behind all the grainy images and videos the unsub left behind. You are completely obvious to the fact that someone is watching you.

Word Count: 1k

Contains: slow burn, semi-nudity, and possible plot holes cause idk where this is going anymore

A/N: Be sure to check out my other series, Teacher’s Pet!

The team went home to rest before yet another busy day, but Hotch couldn't leave just yet. Gracia hasn't gotten a single hit on this woman, and the team was nowhere close to building a profile. Hotch knew that the faster they got through all the images, the faster they could build a solid profile. So, he sat in the screening room alone, drinking crappy coffee, hoping to see something helpful.

He eventually got bored of whatever video he was on and decided to skip to the more recent videos the unsub posted. He clicks on a video dated October 12. The angle was the same as before. The camera pointed at her window, but this time, it was different. Hotch could see you or at least your figure getting dressed. He froze, pressing pause on the video.

The idea of watching a stranger undress felt wrong and perverted. A part of him was unsurprised by the video, knowing that this kind of thing is what stalkers live for, but it felt wrong. Nevertheless, Hotch had to watch it in order to profile both you and this unsub. He resumes the video and continues watching.

You lift your shirt up before turning slightly away from the window and peeling it off. Hotch peered at your hair, falling against your bare back. The light from the window shined on you and your brown hair. You were comfortable enough to have your curtains pulled back as you undressed but not comfortable enough to put on a show. Hotch couldn't understand that, but then again, he knew all about the world's most twisted and sick people. This unsub was one of them.

After watching that, Hotch decided to call it a night, leaving the screening room and heading for the elevator.

You were rushing to get ready for work when you felt off. Peeling off your pajamas to get into appropriate work attire, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Is someone watching me? Growing up in a small neighborhood, you had no problem undressing in front of a window; you did it all the time. However, as you removed your shirt, you couldn't help but feel like this time was different.

You brushed it off and chalked it up to paranoia, but truthfully, this isn't the first time you suspected something awry. For the past few months, every time you stood in front of a window, you felt it as if it were Big Brother, but you knew that was not the case. Somebody was, in fact, watching you, but you were clueless.

The next day, the team gathers bright and early to investigate this unsub. Hotch got their first, sorting through and organizing all the photos the Cyber Alert Team left. Once the entire team was there and ready to work, Hotch began, "Thank you all for being here on time. Let's get to work. What do we know so far?"

"Well, we know this is his first and only victim," Emily said.

"We also know that stalkers are deeply insecure, and this particular stalker is likely to have a personal connection to our Jane Doe," JJ said.

"Don't forget those stalkers snap when anything gets between them and their victims. This guy's no different," Rossi added.

"So this unsub's a ticking timebomb. The closer we get to finding out who this chick is, the more danger she's in," Morgan said.

"We know how they met. In the unsub's correspondence, he said they work together but never mentions it again. After that, he's more careful not to expose any details about her," Spencer said.

"Why keep her identity a secret? From his vantage point, he could easily get a clean shot of her face. Why doesn't he?" Hotch poses to the team.

"Could it be a counter-measure?" JJ responds.

The team grows silent, taking in all the clues and piecing them together to solve the puzzle. During this time, Hotch remembers what he saw in one of the videos last night. He couldn't get that image of you undressing out of his head, and he didn't know if he should tell the team or keep it to himself. He knew it was a significant detail but was embarrassed to share it. He just didn't know why.

Rossi could see the wheels turning in Hotch's head. "Something we should know, Aaron?" Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head and told the team about what he saw. "Last night, I watched some more of the tapes, and I think you should see them. Gracia, can you-"

"Already on it!" Gracia works her magic and pulls up the videos on her computer.

"It should be dated October 12," Hotch said.

Gracia finds the video and turns her computer to show the team. The team watches as you undress, unaware of being watched. After you change, the video cuts to you leaving your apartment. Hotch didn't see that before...

"This guy's getting bolder, that's for sure," Morgan says.

"Gracia, show us the latest upload. Would yuh? I wanna see just how bold he's gotten," Rossi said.

Upon his command, Gracia pulls up the latest video, dated April 18, months later. The video is drastically different from the others. The footage was taken from inside rather than outside.

"So now's his in her house? Why the shift?" Emily ponders.

Hotch wasn't sure why he hadn't thought to look at the latest video or why the thought of some creep sneaking into your house and setting up a camera made his blood boil. He was off his game and determined to get his head straight. He pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking, "Ok, we need to rethink strategy. Something caused him to shift the camera. He needed to get closer to the victim, but why? That's what we need to find out."

The team nodded in agreement, having started to see a shift in their boss. He was usually so level-headed during every case, but this one was different. The BAU rarely investigates stalkers; on those rare occasions, those cases go over smoothly. So far, this particular case has been all sorts of special.

Taglist: @uselessnewt @lalaehlaa @de-duchess @targaryenswhxre @mrs-ssa-hotch @reidfile

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Needs To Speak Up

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUt

You stare at the screen of your computer and yawn. You haven't gotten a lot of sleep the past few nights. Yoongi has been gone again at night more frequently, opting to sleep in his studio in small spurts in between working. He tells you that he's so close to finishing the album, but you'll believe it when you see it. As of right now, you don't believe him at all. This has now been the third time he told you that. You have been keeping yourself busy trying to make the decision of what cake you want to try at your tasting next week. You get ten flavors to sample, and you are taking it very seriously. Your guest won't remember your vows after the wedding but they will remember if the cake was bad. Compared to everything else, this is the one thing you were looking forward to.

“What are feelings on fondant?” You ask Seungkwan. He looks up at you from across the room and makes a face. “Buttercream it is.”

“What does Yoongi want?” he asks.

“He doesn't care for cake, so he'll leave it up to me,” you tell him with a sigh. “Just like everything else. At least he is coming with me to sample them. So, I'll take it as a win.”

“You should talk to him about it,” he says, typing away on his computer. “If it's getting to be too much, you need to say something.”

“No, I took responsibility to plan everything. I can't go back on my word,” you tell him as you lean back and close your eyes. “I got your sister's email. The picture of the bouquet she sent is beautiful.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” he said with a small smile. “What did you go with?”

“Dark burgundy delilahs and white roses. Seriously, Seungkwan, thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say. “Anyway, I'm hungry. I'm going to hit the vending machine downstairs on the studio level. Did you want anything?”

“We have vending machines on our floor too,” Seungkwan tells you with a knowing look.

“I'm not up to anything. They have Oreos down there,” you say, defending yourself. “All we have are protein bars.”

“I guess I'll take a pack as well,” he relents.

Grabbing your card from your bag, you leave your office and take the elevator downstairs. You weren't lying….technically. The studio level does indeed have better snacks in the vending machine, but you can't help it if you have to walk by Yoongi's studio to get to it. Your chances of actually running into him were slim, but hey, you'll take the chance.

Leaving the elevator, you round the corner past Hobi's studio and then down past Yoongi's studio to get to the coveted snack machine. Sliding your card, you press the correct number for your cookies, the machine roars to life and pushes your cookies out. Bending down, you take them from the bottom of the machine and repeat. Only this time, the Oreos do not drop once you press the correct buttons. They get stuck between the coil holding them and the small black divider to its side.

“No,” you say into the empty hallway. You give the button another press and another, but still nothing happens. You gave the machine a big whack this time, but the only thing that you managed to do was hurt your hand. “Ouch!” You exclaim and shake your hand.

“Need help,” a voice says, startling you. You didn't even hear a door open.

Shit. Kai is smiling at you when you look to see who came to your rescue. He looks just as handsome as you remember, but this is not the best place to be seen with him. Not when you can look past him and see your fiancée's door. Fucking Orero's. They were too good to resist. You need to lay off the junk food. You should have gone with the protein bars.

“Um, sure. Thanks,” you say and back away from the vending machine.

Kai presses both his hands at the top of the vending machine and gently rocks it back and forth. It probably takes less than ten seconds before the sweet snack hits the bottom of the machine. He reaches down and retrieves them for you. Standing back up, he smiles and hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you say again, taking them from him and then proceed to take a few extra steps away from him.

“Y/N, right?” He asks you and leans on the machine he just manhandled. “Lisa's friend. We met at Jimin's party.”

“Yeah, that's me,” you say, standing there awkwardly in front of him. “I should…”

“You know it's a shame that our night was cut short at that party. I had a good time talking to you,” he comments, and you can hear the elevator ding. “Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“No,” you say quietly. Is that today? You have completely forgotten.

“Is your boyfriend working tonight? He works here, right? Your boyfriend is a producer in the company? I think I have seen around….he glares a lot.”

“Fiancée and part owner actually,” Jimin says, walking up to the two of you. He slings his arm around his friend's shoulder. “I think Y/N needs to head back to work.” Jimin widens his eyes and jerks his head quickly. You stare at him strangely but decide to just go with it.

“Yeah, umm, very busy,” you say as Jimin still motions for you to go.

“Oh,” Kai said, looking amused. “So busy you had to have a cookie break? You don't seem that busy to me.”

“Yup, she just needs sugar every now and then, or she gets angry. I think she …realllyyy….needs to go. She should also…take the stairs. Now.” Jimin says.

Your eyes widen. You finally get it. Yoongi was probably on his way down. You turn quickly, running down the hall and heading for the door hiding the stairwell. You hear Kai say something to Jimin, but you were too busy running for your life to catch what it was. You make a sound of defeat when you open the door. Do you want to take four flights of stairs in heels? No. Do you want Yoongi to catch you with Kai? Absolutely not. You'll take the chance of busting your ass in your heels because it was better than the alternative.

Huffing and puffing, you make it back into your office and throw the cookies at Seungkwan, hitting him squarely in the chest. Who then made a disapproving sound when they hit him. You throw yourself in your chair and wipe your forehead with your hand. Man, you're out of shape.

“What happened?” he asks, opening the snack you got him and shoves one in his mouth.

“Kai happened,” you say and don't elaborate. You just hope that Yoongi doesn't find out.

Did anything interesting happen today?

It should have been an innocent text from Yoongi, but you knew better. He knew that you must have talked to Kai earlier, but you don't know who told him. Would Jimin go through all that trouble to help you and then rat you out? Probably. Not that there was anything to tell because you did nothing wrong. You bite your lip and think about how you want to answer this. You weigh your options. You can be brat about this, or you can fess up and be honest. Your fingers tap the side of your phone in thought. This is the fifth night in a row that he wouldn't be home, and your eyes drift to that red trunk that has yet to be discovered in your closet. You chose brat.

I got me and Seungkwan Oreos. You responded by typing back.

That all?

Yup, I wanted to save my energy for tonight. You write back.

Getting out of bed, you go to your closet and drop to your knees in front of that red chest. You take off the blanket and hoodies that you threw on top of it, placing everything to the side. You're going to take Lisa's advice and send Yoongi a quick picture. Of what exactly….you're not quite sure yet. Opening the lid, your face still burns with embarrassment, looking at everything that Lisa bought for you. You don’t even know where to start.

What's tonight? he types back.

You reach inside and grab what you think she called a personal massager. A deep purple device was one of the more innocent looking items in the box. Your eyes next land on the leather handcuffs, and you quickly snatch them as well before you could talk yourself out of it. Taking a breath, you put everything back before walking back over to the bed. Chucking your shirt off over your head, leaving your top half completely exposed. You lie down on your stomach, moving the toy close to your body and squish your boobs together between your arms. Positioning your device in what you hope is just the right angle to make you look enticing you snap a picture using the timer. You look at the result, and you are actually kind of impressed. Not bad.

Solo play, you answer with the accompanied picture and hit send.

Your palms become sweaty, your hands shake, and your eyes become large as you stare at your phone screen. What did you do? Oh, no! What did you do? Can you unsend a text? Please, you just want to take it back. Your hands start to flail around in the air by your head in panic. Your heart stops as the message goes from delivered to read.

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself and grab your shirt to cover yourself.

You watch as the dreaded dots appear on the screen, showing that he was responding. Your mouth goes dry, and suddenly, they disappear, but nothing comes through. You wait and wait, but again, nothing comes through. He's not going to respond. You don't know if you should be relieved or embarrassed that he probably didn't like it. Maybe Lisa doesn't know what she is talking about after all. You thought maybe you could salvage Valentines, but now you feel just plain stupid and a little unwanted. It kind of hurt. Tossing your phone on the bed, you lazily roll yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom to shower. Maybe you can wash away your idioticness.

When you open the bathroom door after your shower, the steam rolls out behind you. You tighten the towel that is wrapped around your freshly cleaned body as you head back to the bedroom. Stepping over the threshold into said room, you freeze. Yoongi is sitting on the edge of the bed. In his hands was that deep purple toy. His eyes look up at you through the strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. Your pulse quickens. You guess Lisa does, in fact, know what she is talking about. You watch him reach over and grab the discarded cuffs. He dangles them off one of his slim fingers and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Solo play, huh?” he asks, resting both his elbows on his knees.

“I didn't think that you would come,” you tell him, holding your towel tighter like it was going to hide you somehow. Hide away the embarrassment of your actions.

Yoongi stands up from the bed after he discards the gifts on the bed and approaches you slowly. Once he reaches you, he slides his hand down your bare arm. The excess water in your hair starts to drip down your exposed skin, sending a chill through you. You noticeably shiver, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. Bending his head, he captures your lips with his own, giving you a soft, teasing kiss.

“Do you still want it to be solo, or can I join?” he whispers against your lips.

You slip your hands to the hem of his shirt and pull up. Yoongi lifts his arms, helping you bring it over his head and taking it off the rest of the way by himself. Pulling his head down to you, you press your mouth against his. Yoongi moves his hands to your wet tangled hair, gripping your head tightly, keeping you where you were.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asks, pulling away slightly and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yoongi,” you whimper and try to look away, but the hold on your head doesn't let you.

“What? You can't send me pictures like that and be embarrassed, baby,” he tells you as he kisses a path from your cheek to your neck. “You don't think that I haven't touched myself thinking about you? Hmmm, because I have…and I do.”

Something in you snaps, and you grab him, kissing him hard as you think about him alone in his studio, stroking himself. He groans into your mouth, holding you close against his body. You place your hands on his chest and back him up to the bed. The both of you falling onto it once the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, mouths still connected. Pulling away, you crawl off of him and move to the center of the bed. Yoongi twists around trying to grab for you, but you stay out of his reach, and you make him follow you up the bed.

You gently push him back against the pillows when he reaches out for you again, and you climb onto his lap. Leaning down, you press your mouth to his again. His hands travel to the top of your twisted towel, and he gently pulls it apart, giving him the treat of your naked body with small water droplets now dripping down onto the both of you. He relaxes underneath you and takes in every inch of you as his hands run up over the top of your thighs and land on your hips.

You reach over and grab the black leather cuffs that are laid beside you. You toy with them and undo the velcro with a loud shkriiiiip. He smirks at you and wets his lips with his tongue. One hand goes to your face. lovingly strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You want me to cuff you to the bed, baby?” he questions, his voice deep with desire. You smile shyly back at him and shake your head. His eyes narrow at you for a moment before laughing silently. Yoongi places his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow and raises an eyebrow at you. He's daring you to do it. “It's okay.”

You lean over him and wrap his wrist in the leather before hooking the other side through the dark wooden slats of the headboard. Repeating the same treatment to the other wrist, he willing lies there at your mercy. You want to keep here so he can't leave you for days, almost weeks at a time like he always does. God, you miss him, and you don't know how much longer you can last like this. The loneliness at night has almost become unbearable. The silence was almost too loud.

Taking his mouth with yours again, your tongues dance together naturally as your mouths open for one another. He groans in your mouth as you ground your hips onto his pelvis. Your lips pull away with a smack, and you slither your way down his body as you maintain eye contact with him. You can see that his breathing has picked up by the way his chest moves up and down. If that wasn't a sure sign of him liking this, the straining in his sweatpants definitely did.

Settling yourself on the bed between his legs, you run your hand over his clothed erection. Yoongi bucks his hips up into your touch and lets out a harsh, shuddering breath. Reaching for the top of his sweats, you curl your fingers around the fabric and pull them over his hips. You stop in surprise when you realize that he didn't have anyone underneath. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks and gives a slight shrug as best as he can, given his current position.

Pulling them the rest of the way off, you grab his hardness and bring your mouth down to him. Giving his tip one small lick, you pull away. You sit back on your heels and stare at him with an innocent smile before crawling back up his body. You rest your weight on your hands as you hover your face over his.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” you say quietly, and his eyes widen in recognition.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, but you shut him up with a kiss.

“I forgot too, until….Kai reminded me,” you tell him with a knowing look, and he narrows his eyes.

“I bet he fucking did,” he growls.”He was so fucking smug talking to Jimin about you.”

“Oh,” you say and drop your hips onto his hardness that was lying against his flat stomach. You languidly move your wet core back and forth along it. Letting the motion stimulate your clit.

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly as his eyes rolled back slightly. “Fuck, keep going.”

“Nothing happened,” you tell him as you lift your hips off of him, denying him your touch. “I barely even said two words to him.”

“I trust you,” he says, taking a deep breath

“Do you?” You ask him seriously.

“With my whole heart,” he says, lifting his head for a kiss. You lean down and press your mouth to his once again before moving your kiss to his neck. Yoongi's head falls back onto the pillow. “Baby, can we talk about this later. My cock is so hard it hurts.”

Sitting up you reach between your legs, you grab his cock and run the head along your folds, coating him with your natural slickness before slowly sinking onto him. Yoongi pushes his tongue against the side of cheek as he watches you take all of him with rapt attention. You lean forward with your hands on his chest and press your forehead against his as you start to slowly move up and down on him. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of him inside of you as you take your time. The feeling of fullness replacing the ache of emptiness and loneliness that has plagued you for months now. The hot flame within you that has dulled finally roared back to life.

Yoongi plants his feet flat on the bed and thrusts his hips up against you. His hard dick spears you over and over again as you fall forward from the force of his hips hitting you and bury your face into his neck. You let out a strangled moan as he takes control.

“Undo me, Y/N,” his raspy voice commands. “I need to get my mouth on you.”

You reach up blindly and pull the velcro off one of the cuffs. With his wrist successfully freed, he hurriedly grabs the opposite side and undos it himself. Sitting up, he throws them to the floor and gently guides you off him. He grabs your waist and turns you so you can lie down in his previously occupied spot before he grabs your knees, spreading you open for him.

Lying on his stomach, Yoongi presses a kiss to your throbbing clit. His fingers run up and down your opening gathering your wetness before sinking them into you. You sigh and wiggle your hips in response. Sticking his tongue out he traces small circles around you as his fingers start a slow rhythm pumping into you.

“Do you want me to use that?” he asks, jerking his head to the deep purple toy.

“NO!” You exclaim and cover your face.

Yoongi moves up up your body, hovering over you as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you. He crooks them at the perfect angle that has you gasping and grabbing at his shoulders. Yoongi leans down and kisses your cheek before pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. You press your head further into the pillow underneath you with a whimper.

“Let me use it. Please?” he asked, tongue licking a wet stripe underneath your jaw. You bite your lip as he shoves his fingers into you at a rapid pace that is just as deep.

“Fuck,” you gasp out. “Okay, okay. Use it.”

Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you quickly and grabs onto the massager. His hand fumbles with it for a second before he finds the button to turn it on. The low hum of the messenger and the dark look in his eyes make your mouth go dry. Placing his lips on yours, he trails the deep purple toy down between your breast over your stomach before reaching his final destination. A whine escapes your lips as the vibration hits your sensitive spot.

“Shhh,” he says softly. “I got you. Stop me if it's too much.”

Yoongi moves down the bed, resting on his knees before sinking his fingers back into you. Holding the toy against you, his fingers start pumping into you at a furious pace. Tapping that innermost spongy spot repeatedly has your wetness dripping out of you with every push and pull of his fingers. Your hands reach up and grab on to the wooden slats of the headboard and squeeze tightly. Your hips start to gyrate, and your breathing picks up, making your chest heave up and down.

“God, I miss seeing you like this,” Yoongi growls at you.

“I….I….,” you struggle with words as your hips jump. Your inner walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, slicking them even more. “STOP!” You manage to sob out. He throws the toy down on the bed in an instant and looks at you with wide eyes. “You…I….I want you.”

“I'm here,” he said, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I am right here. Are you sure you want more?”

“Please, I need it,” you whimper.

Yoongi lines himself up to your entrance and plunges himself all the way. Your back arches as you bring your arm around his shoulders and pull him down to you. Your chests press together, his face buried in your neck, legs wrapped around his waist as his hips thump repeatedly against your own wildly. You feel delirious as his lips attach to your neck sucking hard enough to mark you. You sink your hand into his hair, tugging him off your neck.

“Got to show him your mine, baby. He acts like he can have you. Can he have you? ” he growls in your ear, and you shake your head, unable to speak. His hips pick up in tempo as the headboard starts to rhythmically bang against the wall loudly. “I'm not going to last much longer,” he pants. “You are going to come again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you pant.

Reaching out, he grabs the discarded toy. Turning it back on, he sneaks it between your bodies to touch it to your clit. You both moan loudly as it makes contact as the vibrations rush through both of you. You feel yourself clench around his hardened length as you cry out, your wetness coating his length. Yoongi hums deeply in satisfaction at the feeling of your pulsating core that surrounds him. His own hips stutter and lose rhythm, toy falling out of his hand as you slap it away when it becomes too much. Slamming his mouth against yours, his hips give you one more hard thrust before he stiffens and comes deep inside of you.

Yoongi drops his head onto your shoulder, panting. You slowly graze your nails up and down his back as you stare up at the ceiling. You can feel his lips lightly connect with the front of your shoulder in what you think is a loving gesture. A tear falls out of the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it away. The roaring fire within you minutes ago has gone back to that dull flame. It's a flame that barely flickers and fights to stay lit. You're scared.

Fuck.

Tagged Readers

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

Warnings: the incest is incesting in this chapter guys.

Chapter I

It had been a long day. A few long days. A long week, even. But now it was over. Rafe was doing better. He was clean, and no longer going through withdrawal. He was okay now.

Finally.

Sarah waited for him as he took a shower, sitting on his bed.

Not like I love you.

Those words haunted her, and she didn't even know why. Why was she more worried and restless about what Rafe said than about the possibility of John B telling the truth? Why did his words matter more than the possible future John B could have?

He was supposed to be her boyfriend, even if the word now turned her stomach. She had liked John B, sort of. She didn't really know anymore. Her feelings for John B were like the ones she used to have for Topper. The ones she didn't have anymore, for one or the other. It was all so fucking confusing. Shouldn't one know when they were in love? Because in the moment the most she could feel for John B was fondness and sympathy for his situation. The situation her father caused. But there was no love. No all consuming love that led her to defy her morals and ideals. No, that wasn't what she felt for John B. That was how she loved Rafe. She loved him so much she was willing to cover for him. Willing to do everything to keep him from going to prison. Willing to put the blame on her father, or John B, anyone instead of him.

But he seemed to believe she didn't care about him. That she didn't love him.

Not like I love you.

Why would he say that? Had she not proven her love enough? What more did she had to do to prove that she loved him?

The door of Rafe's bathroom opened, he appeared amongst the steam, covered only by a towel. Sarah widened her eyes, mouth going dry.

Oh. No. This is bad.

Rafe smirked at her, as if he knew her thoughts. Maybe he did.

"Hey. Mmm" what was she going to ask again "I wanted to ask you something"

Rafe grabbed some clothes and let the tower fall as if she wasn't there. Sarah was quick to stand up and face the door, face heating up.

"Asshole!"

"You're in my room, so suck it up" she could hear his smirk "What do you want to ask?"

She wasn't sure. What was it that she wanted to ask again? It was getting hard to think. She should be disgusted. She wasn't.

"I..." She shouldn't be so embarrassed, Rafe often walked around the house only in underwear. But now he wasn't in his underwear, he was naked. Like, nothing at all covering his body. Or so she assumed, because there was no way she would turn around to see for herself. The door was very interesting, thank you very much "You..."

"You...Me..." he mocked her, because of course he did "Spit it out, Sarah"

"What did you mean when you said that I don't love you like you love me?"

There was a beat. A moment of silence. One that was far too long. She nearly jumped when two big hands were placed on her shoulders and he was spun around to face her brother. He was clothed now.

Thank God.

"We don't really need to talk about that"

"But I want to talk about it" she frowned, looking away from his blue eyes. They felt too heavy, it was making her dizzy "Do you think I don't love you? Because I do"

"I know you do" he squeezed her shoulders gently "I do"

His gaze fell down for a moment, Sarah swallowed. She was between him and the door, cornered, her heart racing. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Sarah! Rafe!" she jumped back at her father's voice, her back hitting the door "Come down here!"

They did, both of them pretty much raced down stairs. At the door, Ward and Rose were talking to Shoupe and some other cops. 

John B must've tell them.

It was time, the moment of truth. She grabbed Rafe's hand, squeezing it nervously. Her brother didn't complain.

"Rafe, Sarah" Shoupe nodded towards them "May I have a word with you two?"

"Why?" Rose crossed her arms "Is there something wrong?"

"Have you captured John B? My children are afraid of leaving the house"

It took all of her self-control to not laugh at her father's words. The nerve of that man.

"Yes, he's in police custody now. Turned himself in" 

Sarah let out a shaky breath, Rafe squeezed back her hand. John B had listened to her, he had done exactly what she asked. Now, it was their job to make it convincing.

"I hope you can get help for that kid" the way Ward sounded so genuine made her nauseous.

"Yeah" Shoupe nodded, but his eyes didn't leave the two siblings "I want to talk to you two. Where can we talk privately?"

"Have they done something?" 

"The dining room will do, I guess" Rafe spoke, his words were not slurred and he sounded almost sure of himself. But his eyes did dart to Ward every few seconds.

Shoupe followed them to the dining room and closed the door once they were there.

"You two were there when Peterkin was shot, right?" 

"Yes" she said, but her brother just nodded "We wanted to say something, we did, but... it's our dad. We can't..."

Her tears were genuine, but they were not for Ward. Shoupe's gaze hardened.

"He killed Peterkin?"

"He shot her" Rafe cleared his throat, eyes glassy "She wanted to arrest him, I think, but he shot her. He doesn't let us out of the house" That wasn't a lie, they were pretty much imprisoned in their own home "He..."

Rafe touched his cheek, the bruise was fading, but there was still there for Shoupe to see.

"He did that to you?"

"Wasn't the first time"

But it will be the last.

Without another word, Shoupe left the dining room, taking the handcuffs off his belt. They followed, maybe too eager to see if it worked. To see their father be arrested.

"Ward Cameron" Shoupe grabbed his wrists and handcuffed him, the other cops stopping Ward from fighting back "You're under arrest for the murder of Susan Peterkin"

"What?" Rose exclaimed "No! He...No!"

"We have three witnesses, Mrs Cameron" was all that Shoupe said.

"What?" Wheezie whispered, putting herself behind Sarah like she did when they were children.

"No! It was Rafe! He shot her! Not me!" Ward struggled against the cops, but they still pulled him outside to the back of the police car "It was Rafe!"

Rose didn't say anything, because if she did she would be forced to admit they were covering up for Rafe, in the unlikely case they would believe her that was. She supposed Ward was trying to talk his way out of the mess, given that he had stopped screaming and blaming Rafe. The cops drove away, taking Ward away.

Only when they were out of sight did Sarah felt like she could breathe again.

"What did you do?" Rose hissed at her, but Rafe stepped forward.

"Stop it, Rose. Ward is where he should be"

"Ward?" Rose laughed, bending over as she did. Like she just heard the joke of the century "Ward? Your father! I see now what you are doing, Rafe. You want to be 'Mr. Cameron' and you convinced your sister to follow your lead. Bravo! You did something right, finally!"

"Shut up, Rose" Sarah was the one to growl at her, Wheezie was there and she didn't need to now.

Rose stared at her, surprised for a second, but she covered it quickly. Her eyes flickered from her to Rafe.

"Oh, I get it now. Mr and Mrs Cameron" she spat.

Before Sarah could say anything to that, before Rafe could say anything, Wheezie turned to them.

"Did dad kill Sheriff Peterkin?" her little sister's eyes were glassy with unshed tears "Why would he do that? I don't understand"

"It wasn't your dad, it was Rafe. He's the murderer"

Sarah's hand moved on her on, slapping Rose so hard the sound echoed around the lobby. 

Wheezie gasped, turned around and ran upstairs. Rafe followed her at a slower pace. She just stared at Rose, fury burning in her eyes. Her stepmother's cheek was red, her hand imprinted on her skin.

"Get out!"

"What?"

"Get out of this house and don't ever come back!"

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Leave. I don't want you here!"

I don't want you here, my mother was dying and you were fucking my father. I don't want you here, you married my father when my mother's ashes weren't even cold. I don't want you here, you wear her jewellery. I don't want you here. I don't want you here. I don't want you here.

"This is my house!"

"No" she didn't raise her voice anymore, she just shook her head "It was my mother's house. It's Rafe's house. It's my house."

It was her mother's, and when she died it passed to Rafe. Or it would, once he turned twenty one. Just a little more than a year and the house would be all theirs, not Rose's and not Ward's. Theirs.

"You can't kick me out"

"I'm going upstairs to deal with the mess you just made, when I return I don't want you here. And you don't want to be here when Rafe gets back"

Because Rafe is violent. Because Rafe hates you even more. Because Rafe is a murderer. Because I won't stop him. Because. Because. Because. 

Without another word, Sarah left Rose in the lobby. She had to deal with Wheezie. Jesus. What were they gonna do with her? She wouldn't believe them if they lied. But what would she do if they told her the truth? She was going to find out soon.

Rafe was at her door, it was locked, she guessed. 

"Locked?" 

"Yeah" he ran a hand through his hair "Which is not surprising, but it is really fucking annoying"

Sarah glared at him, Rafe just raised his hands and signalled at the door. She knocked three times before Wheezie answered.

"Yes?"

"Wheez, I know this is hard to understand—"

A click told her that the door was unlocked, that Wheezie would talk to her. She opened it a little to see inside, Wheezie was laying face down on her bed, face against a cushion.

"Hey" with the uncertainty of someone who approaches a baby deer, Sarah walked to her sister "I know this is...well, I don't really know what this is. But we have to stick together, we are family"

"And dad wasn't family?" the youngest of them asked raising her head to look at Sarah. Every few seconds her gaze deviated to Rafe, who stood under the threshold. "You hand him over to the cops"

"It's more complicated than that"

"Was Ward family?" Rafe asked, a hand going to his bruised cheek. It wasn't on purpose, she could tell "After he slept with Rose while our mother was rotting on an hospital bed? Was he family, even after he ignored you an hit me? After he killed those three guys? Ward was going to go down sooner or later, and be was going to take us with him. We just saved ourselves"

"Who did Ward killed?"

"Big John and two other guys" Sarah answered, her voice shaky "Listen, Wheezie, you can't tell anyone—"

"About Rafe? Yeah, I know. I won't" she played with the bracelets around her wrist. A nervous tick "Why did you kill Peterkin?"

Sarah turned to her brother, a few tears escaping his eyes. It felt like it was yesterday to her, how did it feel for him?

"I...I was high and I saw her pointing at dad with her gun so I just..." he shook his head as if trying to get rid of some thoughts. Bad thoughts "I don't know. I thought I was saving his life. That he would thank me for it. Stupid, I know"

"But you are better now, right? Now that you're clean and all that"

"I've only been a week clean, but, yeah. I feel better"

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't a complete truth either. But Sarah didn't point that out, they were both trying to calm down Wheezie not to scare her even more.

"Okay" her little sister nodded.

She accepted so quickly. So simply. She shouldn't really be surprised, not really. Wheezie was ignored by both Ward and Rose, it was them who took care of her. It had always been the three of them, ever since their mother died. It hadn't even been Ward, she remembered, who had installed into them that family was above all. No, it had been their mother. And while Ward said that to keep them loyal to him and only him, their mother had wanted them to be loyal to each other. To be there for each other. And that they did.

"I'll go see what we have to make dinner" she told her siblings "You hungry"

"You can't cook" Wheezie frowned.

"I can try. The internet has answers for everything"

"We can always order something in the likely event that she cooks something poisonous" Rafe stepped away to allow her passage.

"Yeah"

"Oh, fuck you!"

Everything is going to be okay. Maybe not now, but one day.

It was a comforting thought, that only grew when she found Rose gone. Finally. Ever since she met her she had been waiting for her to disappear. Sarah had no idea where she had gone, but she didn't care. They were free of her. Of her and Ward. 

In the kitchen, she finally felt like she could breathe. Everything was fine. They were together, Rose was gone and Ward would soon be in prison. Everything was fine. Things hadn't been fine in a while. It felt weird. How sad was that? 

Doesn't matter, many have it worse than me.

Yeah. Her father was a serial killer, but at least she had a home and was well-fed. Others didn't have her luck. She was lucky. She was lucky. Lucky.

If she repeated it enough maybe she'll end up believing it. 

"Sarah!" it wasn't her brother or her sister who was calling her, no, it was Topper. Her ex boyfriend stood in the kitchen, looking worried. They really needed to start closing the back door "How are you? Are you okay? That's such a dumb question, sorry, of course you're not okay"

"Why are you here?"

He frowned, as if he was confused by her behaviour. Topper of all people.

"I care about you" he said, trying to sound gentle, but coming off as annoyed "And Rafe. And your dad just got arrested. Like, Jesus, Sarah, I'm here to help"

"We are fine, thanks"

"Right" he scoffed "What is John B around?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. There he went, his 'nice' act didn't last long. His fucking jealousy, however, was forever.

"No, but I am" Rafe appeared through the door, his whole demeanor so changed from the playful attitude five minutes ago "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, bro" Sarah cringed at the words "Just dropped by to see how you were doing"

"We're fine, you can go now"

Maybe Topper was surprised by Rafe's word, or the way he seemed to get bigger as he walked towards him.

"You sure?"

"My sister doesn't want you here" and he didn't either, but that was left unsaid.

"Since when do you care about what Sarah wants? Not so long ago you were calling her a bitch every two minutes"

It shouldn't, but it hurt her. She knew Rafe talked behind her back when he was high or drunk, which was most of the time, but it still hurt to know for sure. Rafe's jaw clenched.

"Get. Out" 

Topper nodded, lips pursed.

"Fine!"

Like a child, he stomped his feet and hit the door in his way out. How could she ever date that man-child? Maybe she did have terrible taste in boyfriends, like Wheezie always said. Like Rafe always mocked.

"I'm a bitch, huh?" She tried not to sound bitter, but she failed.

"Sometimes" he nodded, taking a few steps until he was barely a few inches away from Sarah "Sorry about that, though"

She exhaled, leaning against his chest. God she was so tired. Like, really fucking tired. Rafe surrounded her with his arms, resting his chin against her head.

"Don't do that again and it's all good" she really wasn't all that upset.

"Okay"

They were like that for a while, hugging each other in silence. It was nice. They hadn't been like that in a while. Maybe that would change now. But then a knock on the door ruined the moment.

"Must be visit day" Rafe mumbled, begrudgingly letting go of her.

It was the back door, the kitchen door, the one Topper used to get in but not to leave. When Sarah went to open the door she saw John B there. Her heart should be racing, she should be being enthusiastic about seeing him, she should...Well, she wasn't. She was happy to see him, sure, because it was good to know he was no longer in jail, but that was it. She opened the door and smiled at him.

"Val" he said with a silly smile, she couldn't reciprocate.

"Hey"

"How are you—" he stopped on his tracks, eyes on Rafe "You"

"Yeah, me" her brother smirked, but it wasn't a teasing one like the way he smiled at her, it was sharp and threatening "This is my house, maybe you forgot that when Ward gave you a room here and said you were family. Well, you aren't"

"Wouldn't want to be your family" he shot back "It's too bad Sarah and Wheezie don't have an option in that"

"Stop it" Sarah put herself between them "Both of you. This is so not the time, John B"

"What do you mean?"

It was better to get over with it as soon as possible. It wasn't like this was her first breakup.

"I don't have time for a relationship now" not the reason, but she didn't need to hurt him "We can still be friends, though"

"Are you...? Are you breaking up with me?" 

"Seems like it to me" 

"Shut up, Rafe!" she inhaled and waited. John B wasn't crying, but he was close to "Yes. But I want you to know that you are very special to me. I just have to focus on my family"

On my brother.

"Right" with those bitter words, John B left Tannyhill.

Sarah's pulse didn't quicken.

[marshmellowtea]

CHRIST YOU'VE DONE IT AGAIN (positive positive positive)

hello everyone today i woke up thinking about chris calling for/asking for his mother after being severely injured or ending up in some other form of severe distress and one of his companions has to gently remind him that her being here would just make things so much worse for him and all he can do is sob because he still just wants his mama soooo bad </3

[mydearestbeloved]

okay chapter 5 review here bc word limit.

amazing how your very first and latest draft can change how I feel about your story as a whole lmao. ngl the jinwoo in your first draft reminds me of those daydream yandere!jinwoo fics lolololol so imagine my whipslash when i read the revised and expanded draft of this.

i love those to death i will be honest here but sl reader fics that depicts jinwoo more closely to his canon counterpart always hit different fr. i love how jinwoo isn't trusting of reader and constantly trying to figure her out. he's so inquisitive and smart when trying to piece everything he can find about reader (that makes a lot of sense since he becomes a detective in the revised timeline).

i really appreciate you writing him like this and it's a shame canon kinda stop writing the strategic and observant jinwoo after over the half of the story. of course if you wanted to be more canon compliant (and an excuse to keep reader involved), jinwoo would have to be more suspicious and distrustful of her and monitor her (such a jinwoo move) bc yk his deep trust issue (that has been forgotten or somehow resolved on its own in the canon story just bc. no im not bitter about it nope). therefore, it's so intriguing to read fics where his issues being addressed and his worldview being challenged. i know solo leveling is a power fantasy but it's frustrating to see our protagonist keep proving right about his very flawed and detrimental outlook, carrying the world on his shoulders alone and all that and the story acts like none of that affects him negatively or has any long lasting consequences. again it's a power fantasy but i think i can overlook this very real potential issue only if the story isn't set in a modern and semi-realistic urban setting.

anyway i skimmed through all the drafts you have and i love how they are mostly about him slowly opening up to reader. my god i cannot wait until jinwoo becomes absolutely whipped for our fae queen like in the old drafts. i know it will be absolutely satistfying and worthwhile. (can't believe all the chapters are still drafts???)

?System¿:

[ Review of (14/11/2024) has been submitted.

We thank you for your feedback, Reader.

System will now connect you you to 《AUTHOR》 ]

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Thank you for sending your review, this genuinely made my day! 💞

Now onto your review:

Original vs Now

Funny story, this Trial Player AU's original idea was just supposed to be a single, one-shot thing. So, you're not wrong to think that it feels like a daydream yandere!Jinwoo fic, because IT IS.

I even format it like so because I didn't want to get overboard, and that I was afraid of losing interest if I held onto it for too long just because I don't have enough time to write it as long and detailed as I would've liked.

But as it turns out, I just fooled myself, because here we are with a full blown series. And me with too little time still.

The original concept of a trial player isn't even mine. I was inspired by one of @circeyoru's fics, where I just wanted to write a similar story but with a Reader that have different powers and personality.

I ended up having too many interesting ideas to expand this after posting Imagine #1, which now became the summary of this series instead of its original purpose as a one-shot, one-time thing.

To simplify: I hyperfixate. Drafts started piling up. I wanted to work out the details little by little but they were too messy for me to find the time to sit down and edit them. New method: try posting it. I can edit them as I go as long as I gave warnings beforehand to Readers that my writings can change. If this goes well, there's a chance I can receive feedbacks to improve further. Two birds with one stone. A win-win scenario for me.

I mostly write when I'm stressed out from studying and needed a temporary escape. So, it brings me extra joy when people actually enjoy my stress-induced vomit of words. 🥰

How I write canon characters

I LOVE Reader Inserts/x Reader stories, and one of the things that most of the time ruined them for me personally is if the canon intended act too OOC.

Like, I get it, we Readers aren't in the canon story, of course the canon characters will act out of script since they literally are. But if they act like a different person all together with little to no explanation, no reason that can tie them back to the essence that make them just them, then what's the point of canon x reader when it's just the same as oc x reader?

At least add a warning/note/anything else to inform readers if you're going to do that, or if you're not too sure you can write them to stay true to their canon counterparts (like me 😓).

In real life, we already proven that we are fickle beings. We kept changing for one reason or another, but we can still stay true to ourselves or be recognize as just us.

And that is what I tried to do in writing the canon characters, especially the MCs since we readers follow their story the closest, which resulted in us knowing about them more then the side/supporting characters.

We don't truly know them, we never will, but we can predict them when we put those characters in different scenes/scenarios/settings because they already have a pattern that we know.

That is what we readers of Readers Inserts ultimately sought after, to be able to imagine interacting with those same characters that we know through the pages.

At least, this is what I want. Different people, different views and opinions. This is mine.

How I write Sung Jinwoo in this alternate scenario

I only know of Solo Leveling through its webtoon/manhwa and anime adaptations. I know little no none how they are in the original webnovel/novel and game, and the little that I know are form spoilers, tidbits of them.

With this in mind, I do feel that the manhwa are missing some things, and as it turns out (from the spoilers I read), it does skip many scenes from the novel.

No hate for the artist though, if it were not for him, I wouldn't have known Solo Leveling. And I could only imagine how hard it would be to draw everything from the original.

Back to the topic, this Trial Player AU of mine will mostly follow the manhwa, and I'll be using the manhwa-specific plot-holes/gaps to further integrate Trial Player!Reader into the story.

As for Jinwoo, I'll try my best to stay true to his character from the manhwa. But note that I also added the 'Yandere' element. So, to make him not too OOC, I'll explore his thought process from the start to then falling in love to the point of madness with someone like Trial Player!Reader.

I don't want this to be a slowburn, but I also needed to work out the details to Jinwoo's feelings if I want to execute this as smooth as I can get.

Hence, I apologize for the later instances of Jinwoo acting not himself, I'm still figuring out the details for those scenes, that is why I still labeled them as drafts.

Extra related topics

There is two points I shared that can be tied back to Player!Reader's personality:

One, she is a casual fan of Solo Leveling. To make this easier to write, what she knows about the original story is what I know. Reader reads the manhwa, watches the anime, and knows little of the game and original novel from spoilers only.

Second, her view of the Yandere trope. I already I wrote it somewhere in the (for now) unknown chapter 0.1, the only writing that I managed to finish.

I explained there how Reader views this particular fiction trope. It is in many ways similar to mine too. It's just so interesting to see how different people with different personalities spiral down to the far end of the emotion called love, more often associated with warmth and healing.

Emphasis on 'how', I want to see the process. Tying back to how I write Jinwoo.

It is just such an fascinating concept to imagine. And fiction have less restrictions to express that ideas than in reality, as long as we can (and should) differentiate which is true or not, which is good and bad, even if the line that separated them often blurred.

I DON'T condone yandere, toxic and extreme behaviors and actions in real life. All of my works are purely FICTION.

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I think that's all I can say for now. Thank you once again for reading my stories and for sharing your reviews. I really means a lot! 💞

Oh, and a piece of advice:

Perhaps you should hold off reading the last two chapter for now (9 and 10) until I updated them. Because they are of the newer drafts, there are certain 'too-fast-of-a-development'/OOC instances there that you might find a bit weird if I assumed through this review of yours.

I just feel responsible to point this out.

You're still free to read them, of course. After, you can just keep watch if I updated them, though by then you might want reread them. Hopefully, this is not too much. This is the downside of posting drafts. I apologize for the inconveniences.

I'll always inform a major draft update in my Masterlist. So there is no need to check each draft individually everytime.

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Chapter nine | in plain sight.

masterlist

pairing : battinson x fem!oc (can be read as x reader)

words : +3k

A/N : This chapter is a bit shorter than usual since it was originally part of Chapter Eight. A special thank you to @faeryki for your amazing support—it really keeps me motivated to keep updating this fic. I hope you enjoy it and like this chapter! 😊

cw : Bruce being obsessed at this point, 18+, thriller, medical procedures, angst, mental health issues, depression, ptsd, noire, canon-typical violence, POV alternating, gritty, horror, illness, slow burn, action, fluff, mutual pining, forced proximity, crime families, crime, fighting ect… read at your own risk !

IT WAS HIM.

No, it wasn’t.

Yes, it fucking was.

Her mind screamed in a frantic battle, two voices tearing her apart.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, and her pulse surged, each beat a frantic drum as the truth unraveled in her mind—a shattered, tangled mess slowly coming together.

His eyes—those grey-blue eyes, the same ones that had haunted her thoughts more than once—stared back at her, and the recognition hit like a tidal wave.

It wasn't just the eyes, though. It was also his jawline.

That sharp, angular line, the one she could pick out from anywhere, no matter how dark the room.

But there was more.

The little cut beneath his jaw—the scar she'd left him when they were chasing each other, when she had let him get too close that night.

She hadn’t meant to, not really, but she caught him right as he was about to turn, in that split second when everything seemed to slow down. She left a small mark on him, something only she would ever notice. In that moment, he didn’t feel like a stranger.

As she walked through the crowd, her hand instinctively pressed against her red lips, her mind still in shock. It all made sense now, she thought.

The way he had looked at her, the way he had moved, everything about him screamed familiarity.

But the truth had been concealed behind the mask of a man she had never fully understood—Bruce Thomas Wayne. Billionaire heir. Tragic orphan. Vengeance. The Bat… Zorro.

Her footsteps faltered, her breath shallow, as the weight of the revelation pressed down on her, too heavy to carry. People hurried past her, heading toward the main hall, brushing against her shoulders, murmuring quick apologies she didn’t respond to.

The scene back at the entrance of City Hall was nothing short of chaotic—the crowd pushing, the tension between the men—still fresh in her mind, vivid and overwhelming.

But now, everything had shifted.

The man who had captivated her without her even realizing it, the one who kept his distance yet left an indelible mark on her, had been standing right in front of her the entire time.

And somehow, she had never connected the dots, never seen the truth through the fog of lies she had wrapped herself in.

She continued walking, her feet moving of their own accord, though her mind raced to catch up. She wasn't sure if she should be angry, surprised, or relieved.

Maybe a little bit of all three. And yet, the thought that kept swirling in her mind, like a persistent whisper, was the same: How could he have been so close, and yet, so far away?

She needed to regain herself.

Standing at the threshold of City Hall, the weight of the revelation—of seeing him again, of everything she had just discovered—crashed over her, but she couldn't afford to let it consume her.

Not now.

She had a purpose, a responsibility that was far more pressing than her own chaotic emotions. There were people waiting, people who needed her strength, and there was George.

She didn't like his father—had never trusted the man—and she barely knew his widowed mother.

But George was still a child who had just lost a parent. A child who needed someone who understood. She had been there herself, had known that hollow ache, the unbearable weight of loss. She understood what it was like to feel invisible in the face of grief, to be caught in the middle of a world that seemed to keep moving while your heart was frozen in time.

With a steadying breath, she opened her small clutch and took out the figurine.

It was delicate, simple, a small knight in polished metal, its stance strong but humble.

Maryam had bought it at a little shop while grocery shopping the day before, drawn to it for reasons she couldn't quite explain.

It was reminiscent of the one Bruce had left years ago in the subway, the one she had never forgotten, though this one was less ornate, far less expensive, and more... ordinary. Yet something about it felt right.

Maybe it was the symbolism of it—the idea of a knight, standing tall, in the face of all odds. She couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, in some way, it would bring George comfort.

She ran her fingers along the smooth surface, a small smile tugging at her lips as she thought about him again.

Gosh, why were they always linked? she thought, frustration threading through the question.

She and Bruce—always drawn to each other by some strange, unspoken pull.

Maybe it was fate, or perhaps something far more insidious, but every time she thought she was escaping him, every time she thought she had let him go, some new twist would bring him back into her orbit.

She pushed the thought away.

There would be time for that later.

Now, she needed to focus.

As Bruce scans the crowd, the solemn hum of the mourning event fills the hall. Mourners continue to flood in, their somber expressions a blur as he searches, his eyes darting over every face, every moving figure. 

Where is she?

His gaze flicks between the tight knots of conversation, desperate for a glimpse of Maryam, his pulse quickening.

Above, he spots a handful of officers, their keen eyes scanning the room for any signs of trouble, the tension palpable. Bruce's focus sharpens, but the crush of people is like a living, breathing wall. Faces blur together—some tear-streaked, some stony, all wrapped in the weight of loss.

She's here, he thinks, she has to be.

The PA announcer's voice cuts through the noise.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to today's memorial for our beloved mayor, Don Mitchell, Jr. Our program will begin shortly. As a reminder, the family asks that those wishing to honor the mayor's memory consider a donation to the cause most dear to his heart, the Gotham Renewal Fund, our city's safety net."

Bruce barely registers the words. 

His attention is elsewhere, weaving through the sea of mourners, his heart pounding as his search intensifies. He pushes forward, his eyes scanning, never pausing, never faltering.

Then, a movement catches his eye. 

Two uniformed cops are stopping a man who looks out of place—a scruffy, bitter figure, his hood pulled low, eyes filled with rage. 

The man's jaw tightens, muttering to himself, his anger almost palpable.

"What good's a safety net if it doesn't catch anybody?" The words slice through the air, harsh and accusatory. He spits the words out, clearly disgusted. "Didn't help my daughter when she needed it. I can tell you that. That guy—" He points toward the VIPs filing past, his voice filled with venom—"just another rich scumsucker. He got what he deserved."

Bruce studies the man, his brow furrowing. But as his gaze holds steady, the bitter man's eyes shift, catching his. 

"Yeah, I said it," the man mutters, locking eyes with Bruce, a dark smirk curling his lips.

Bruce's eyes flick to the man's acne-scarred face. The bitterness is familiar, the kind that seeps from the forgotten corners of society. He nods once, acknowledging the man's presence, but his thoughts stay elsewhere.

Then, the expression shifts. The man's eyes narrow as he studies Bruce, confusion flashing over his face as if he's trying to place him. Before Bruce can turn away, another voice pierces through the tension.

"Bruce Wayne."

Startled, Bruce turns. A familiar face—one that he had been saying more and more on TV. 

Bella Real.

She approaches with the kind of unwavering confidence that commands attention, her stride purposeful, her expression an enigmatic blend of determination and restraint.

"I'm Bella Real," she begins, her voice cutting cleanly through the noise around them. "I'm running for mayor." She pauses, just long enough to let her words settle, then adds with a flicker of irritation, "I wouldn't be here, interrupting like this, but your people keep telling me you're 'unavailable.' Or at least that's the story my PR team keeps feeding me."

She gestures subtly toward a woman standing amidst the sea of onlookers—a polished figure with a sleek bun, tailored black trousers, a long coat, and heels that seem to challenge the ground beneath her. Rania. Another of Maryam’s sisters.

Beside her is the pregnant woman from earlier, her husband standing protectively close, and flanking them are Maryam’s other sisters—Sherine, the sharp-eyed journalist, and Alma, the soon-to-be lawyer with a poised demeanor. 

Yet the one person he’s searching for, the one he’s desperate to see, remains nowhere in sight.

Bella’s gaze sharpens as she turns back to him, her words cutting through his distracted thoughts. "Will you walk with me?"

Bruce hesitates, the weight of the situation pressing in.

Walk with her? He’s here for Maryam—though, initially, it was the Riddler who brought him here.

His thoughts waver, scattered like leaves in the wind. But as the moment stretches longer, he steels himself, forcing his composure to hold firm.

He can't afford distractions, but Bella is persistent, and something about her energy—something in her voice—stops him.

A flicker of annoyance crosses his face as he glances over her shoulder, the crowd of mourners pressing in tighter, the path to Maryam growing narrower by the second. 

But there's no turning back now.

Bruce's mind spins as Bella leads him through the sea of mourners, her arm tucked firmly under his. 

He's scanning the crowd, eyes darting from face to face, searching for any sign of Maryam. The city's chaos, the event, the memory of the Riddler's cryptic clues, and his need to track down his old friend, and the woman who's been lingering at the back of his mind for far too long, all converge in his thoughts.

He barely registers Bella's words about Gotham, the Renewal Fund, and her political campaign. 

"You know, you really could be doing more for the city," she says, her voice insistent. "Your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as I can tell, you're not doing anything. If I'm elected, I want to change that." She smiles at him, disarmingly, as they approach the front where the choir's soft voices swell into the haunting strains of Schubert's "Ave Maria."

Bruce's eyes scan the crowd with mounting urgency. 

Where the hell is she?

The hum of voices around him dulls, retreating into the background like static. Every sound—Bella's steady voice beside him, the faint rustle of clothing, the shuffling of mourners—becomes meaningless noise as his focus sharpens.

Maryam. She's somewhere here. She has to be.

His thoughts churn restlessly, consumed by her. The weight of the mayor's memorial, the riddler, the tragedy unfolding in the city, even Bella's pointed comments—all of it fades under the single, gnawing question: Where is she?

Bruce catches himself glancing toward Commissioner Gordon, standing a few rows back with a group of officers. The commissioner's stance is familiar—steadfast, commanding attention even in a room filled with grief. It's then that Bruce sees her.

Maryam.

She's standing with Gordon and several other officers. The sight of her feels like a gut punch—unexpected, leaving him momentarily breathless. Her body language is composed, steady, a quiet confidence radiating from her even in the chaos surrounding them.

He leans forward almost instinctively, the world narrowing to her. Bella's voice beside him is an indistinct murmur, her words about Gotham and its future dissipating like smoke. He knows she's talking, but he can't bring himself to care. Not now.

Maryam's voice carries faintly across the room as she speaks to Gordon, her words too low for him to hear. He can't make out the conversation, but the cadence of her tone is calm, deliberate. His gaze is riveted on her, heart pounding as a dozen questions flood his mind. What is she saying? Why is she here?

His chest tightens.

"I'll be right back," Bella says, her clipped tone cutting through the haze. "I'm going to pay my respects to the family—my God, what a mess. His poor wife and son..." She gives Bruce a tight smile before stepping away, her presence swallowed by the crowd.

Bruce doesn't respond. He simply just can't.

His gaze stays fixed on Maryam as her posture shifts slightly. Then her head turns, as if sensing his pointed stare, and for a brief, electric moment, their eyes meet again.

But just as quickly, her gaze shifts away.

It's subtle—an almost imperceptible flicker—but Bruce catches it. The way her shoulders tense, the slight stiffness in her movements as she excuses herself from Gordon's side. Her grace remains intact, but her steps quicken, purposeful as she weaves into the sea of mourners. Her eyes never meet his again.

Damn it.

A knot tightens in Bruce's chest, frustration simmering just beneath his composed exterior. He doesn't move, doesn't follow. Instead, he watches—watches as she retreats toward the mayor's family, where her own relatives, draped in mourning veils, are already offering their condolences.

Bruce's gaze sharpens, narrowing in on Maryam as she approaches Mayor Mitchell's widow. She shakes the woman's hand, her expression one of measured compassion. The two veiled women beside her—familiar figures—draw her attention briefly. Aunts, Bruce realizes. He remembers them from fragments of the life he's pieced together about her, though they remain enigmatic, like so much else about Maryam.

The mayor's son, sitting nearby, draws her focus next. The boy is small, his posture hunched, his eyes wide with confusion and sorrow as he glances at the crowd around him. His presence pulls at something deep within Bruce—his own memories of being that child, lost and surrounded by adults who didn't understand the weight he carried.

And then, Maryam kneels.

The movement is fluid, gentle, as if lowering herself to the boy's level is the most natural thing in the world. Her face softens, her gaze meeting his with a warmth that Bruce has rarely seen in her. She reaches into her small clutch and withdraws something—a figurine. It's a knight, unassuming yet deliberate, its presence more meaningful than its simplicity suggests.

Maryam presses it into the boy's hands, her fingers folding his small ones around it. She leans in, whispering something inaudible, her voice undoubtedly soft and soothing. Bruce can't hear her words, but he sees the boy's expression shift—hesitation giving way to a tentative smile as he clutches the figurine tightly to his chest.

Then, with a touch so gentle it nearly unravels him, Maryam cups the boy's cheek. Her thumb brushes across his skin, a gesture of quiet reassurance, maternal and heartbreakingly tender. The boy leans into her touch, his grief momentarily eclipsed by the comfort she offers.

Bruce's breath catches. He's transfixed, unable to reconcile this Maryam—the one kneeling before a grieving child, radiating care and warmth—with the guarded woman he's come to know. This side of her is foreign yet achingly familiar, stirring something he can't quite place.

The haunting strains of Ave Maria swell around them, the choir's mournful melody filling the air with a weight that presses on Bruce's chest. The music mirrors the scene before him, amplifying the emotions he tries so hard to suppress.

His trance is broken by a familiar voice, low and urgent. "Gil Colson is missing."

Bruce's focus snaps back, his head turning sharply. Gordon stands nearby, speaking in hushed tones to Mackenzie, the Chief of Police. Bruce's mind stirs, the name registering like a cold gust of wind.

"'Scuse me, Chief? Can I talk to you for a moment?" Gordon's voice is measured, his tone low as he adjusts the rims of his glasses.

The Chief of Police, Mackenzie, looks up with a gravelly whisper of a voice, as if his vocal cords have been worn thin. "What?"

"Gil Colson is missing," Gordon replies, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

The Chief exhales heavily, his tired demeanor speaking volumes. "Jesus, not again."

The phrase lingers like a shadow, and Bruce feels the significance of it. The District Attorney's name slices through his thoughts, momentarily grounding him in the reality of the situation.

"He hasn't been heard from since last night," Gordon continues, his voice steady but grim.

Bruce's mind starts turning, the implications of Colson's disappearance settling into place. But before he can focus, a voice—loud and jarringly cheerful—breaks through the somber atmosphere.

"Hey! Bruce Wayne!"

It's Martinez, one of the officers standing nearby.

He's grinning broadly, his enthusiasm so out of place it draws several curious looks. As if to cement the awkwardness, he raises his hand in an overly eager wave.

The billionaire heir remains motionless, his expression an impenetrable mask. He doesn’t respond to the greeting, not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Instead, his gaze shifts, drawn inevitably back to Maryam, who now lingers on the outskirts of the mayor's grieving family, her presence both distant and watchful.

It’s a subtle shift, but Bruce notices.

Something about her stance, the tension in her frame, feels different—like a thread pulled taut, on the verge of snapping.

The way her posture stiffens, her sharp glance toward him at Martinez's outburst, and that fleeting flicker of recognition in her eyes before she looks away.

It's deliberate, calculated—she's retreating, pulling herself into an impenetrable shell.

But before he can dwell on it, a distant noise cuts through the air—a low hum, like tires screeching against asphalt, followed by muffled screams. The sound grows louder, reverberating through City Hall, and a ripple of unease spreads through the room. Heads turn, people standing, craning to see where the commotion is coming from.

Bruce instinctively scans the crowd, his eyes locking on the mayor's young son. The boy has moved into the aisle, drawn by curiosity, and Bruce's heart lurches. Maryam is there too, close behind, her brows furrowed in concern. She places a firm hand on the boy's arm to keep him from venturing too far. Her protectiveness is palpable.

The noise swells, screams rising alongside it—an awful crescendo of chaos.

Then—BAM!

A sickening explosion of sound as the main entrance bursts apart in a storm of shattered glass and concrete. The crowd screams as an SUV rockets through the doors, its grill tangled with flowers from the vigil outside.

Pandemonium erupts.

People scatter, some thrown into the air as the vehicle careens past guardrails and barrels toward the seated area. The air is a cacophony of panic, footsteps, and cries.

Bruce spins, his gaze zeroing in on the boy—standing frozen in shock amid the chaos. Maryam reacts instantly, grabbing him and pushing him toward his mother, who is screaming and clawing her way through the crowd to reach her son.

But Maryam doesn't make it far. Someone shoves past her in their desperate flight, and she stumbles, falling directly into the SUV's path.

Bruce doesn't hesitate. He lunges toward her, his body moving before his mind can catch up. He tackles her, the force sending them both sprawling just as the vehicle roars past, its weight and momentum tossing chairs and debris into the air.

They hit the ground hard, Bruce shielding Maryam as the SUV slams into the central staircase with a deafening crunch. The engine sputters, grinding in protest, before finally going silent.

For a moment, everything is still.

Bruce lifts himself slightly, his arms still bracing Maryam. She's breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling against his. Her hands clutch his biceps tightly, as if grounding herself.

"Maryam," he whispers, his voice low, urgent. One hand moves to her neck, tilting her face toward him. Her hazel eyes flutter open, dazed and unfocused. His sharp, grey eyes meet hers, scanning her face for injuries. He spots a thin trail of blood on her forehead, likely from flying glass.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, concern etched into every word.

She doesn't respond immediately, still catching her breath.

But then—the surreal silence is shattered by screams and cries. The chaos hasn't abated; if anything, it's worse.

Bruce's head snaps up, his gaze darting to the wreckage.

He helps Maryam sit upright, though he keeps a steadying hand on her arm. His attention shifts to the second-floor landing, where people are panicking, pointing to something—or someone. But the figure he saw earlier is gone.

The SUV below is now surrounded by Gordon and a squad of officers, their guns drawn and aimed. The vehicle is smeared with a grotesque pattern of crossword-like scrawls, and in bold letters across the hood, the chilling message: "D.A. — D.O.A.?"

Bruce pulls Maryam to her feet, his arm steadying her as the chaos swirls around them.

Her breathing evens out, and she seems to recover, though she's still pale.

Before he can speak, a red-haired woman pushes through the crowd, her resemblance to Maryam striking. Her sister, Bruce assumes.

She rushes to Maryam, worry etched deeply into her face, pulling her away from him as though he were the cause of her distress.

Questions spill from her lips one after another, but Maryam doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look at her sister—instead, her gaze remains fixed on him, her lips forming a silent thank you.

Bruce gives a tight nod, his jaw clenched as he lets her go.

He watches as she steps back into the embrace of her family, their presence closing around her like a shield.

But his mind remains sharp, the weight of the moment heavy on his shoulders. His gaze shifts to the wreckage once more, the grim message burning into his thoughts.

He snaps his attention back to the SUV, his instincts flaring. He moves closer, slipping through the panicked crowd as mourners scatter in every direction. His focus sharpens, each step deliberate, his heart pounding in time with the chaos around him.

Then, with a metallic creak, the dented driver-side door begins to crack open.

The hall falls into a tense, electric silence, broken only by the metallic clicks and clatters of dozens of weapons chambering simultaneously.

"Get out of the car! Hands up!" Gordon shouts, his gun unwavering, his voice cutting through the mounting dread.

The door swings wide, groaning under its weight.

A figure emerges—unsteady, hands trembling in the air. Blood streaks the man's face, his mouth taped shut. Scrawled across the tape in bold, jagged letters are the words: NO MORE LIES.

The sight freezes the room.

Even Bruce's breath catches for a split second.

"Holy Christ..." Gordon breathes, his voice low, filled with disbelief. "It's Colson."

The district attorney stumbles forward, his eyes wide with terror.

Around his neck, a crude metal collar clamps tight, its grotesque machinery catching the flickering lights. A faint glow pulses ominously—a countdown device.

A horrified voice cuts through the tension.

"There's a bomb around his neck!"

The words send a shockwave through the hall. A piercing, mechanical beep-beep-beep rings out, sharp and relentless.

People scream, dropping to the floor or shoving toward the exits. Police scramble, some shielding others, their shouts blending with the chaos.

But Bruce remains rooted in place, his gaze locked on Colson.

The D.A. doesn't explode. Not yet. The incessant beeping continues, but the device stays dormant. The confusion in the air is palpable, suffocating.

Colson, his movements awkward and sheepish, raises his hand slowly. Taped to his palm is a cell phone, its screen flashing. The relentless beep-beep-beep is nothing more than an incoming call.

Bruce's eyes narrow as the sound echoes through the cavernous space.

"Let's get this place cleared! Now!" Gordon barks, waving officers toward the panicked crowd.

Police start ushering people toward the exits, their movements hurried, their voices commanding.

But Bruce doesn't move.

Something pulls at him—an invisible thread of dread, tightening.

He notices it then, taped crudely to Colson's chest. A folded card, the edges weathered, but the lettering meticulously printed.

The billionaire steps closer, his focus narrowing, his heart heavy with grim certainty.

The card's bold address reads: To The Batman.

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