#The Night Ripper x Reader

[skmhlml]

Would Westside ripper x reader be too deranged, or? v(^o^,)v

You don't wanna even know half of my kinks girl…

🔪 MF looks like he would develop a fascination with yo ass, treating you like a doll rather than a person. His violent acts might emerge in preventing and isolating you, making sure no one else can come near.

🔪 unlike the others I can see him leaving a box on your door with an injured duck for you to take care of.

🔪 boundaries? what do you mean by boundaries?? He won't even cuddle you, he will just lay on you and refuse to move, like a fat cat on your lap.

🔪 You might wake up in strange places, or find yourself unsure if something you saw or heard actually happened. He enjoys watching your sanity unravel, believing that if he can destroy your mind, you’ll be even more dependent on him.

🔪 Sometimes he lets you “escape” just to chase you down again. It’s a cruel form of entertainment for him. The thrill of the hunt is as important as having you with him, and the terror in your eyes fuels his obsession. (He is the type to get hit by one of those thick TVs and jump right back up.)

🔪 He often watches you while you nap, stalking by your bedside, his breathing heav, like a fat southern father... You can feel his presence, (and that hot ass breath.) but he won’t move or speak. The knowledge that he could do anything at any moment is part of his control over you.

🎀 Instead of immediately resorting to violence, he relishes silently eyeing you go about your day, finding strange comfort in your routine. It’s his way of feeling close to you without causing harm—like he’s learning about you in his own way. kicks his legs cutely

🎀 There are rare times when he’s calm and simply sits with you. These moments are strange but peaceful—he might just want to sit near you in silence as if pretending to be part of your life in a more normal way.

🎀 He takes things like your clothes or small personal belongings, but not always in a sinister way. Sometimes he just wants to feel close to you, and having your possessions makes him feel connected when he’s not around.

🎀 Even before you know of his existence, he’s been keeping danger away from you. If there’s ever any threat, he makes sure to eliminate it. It’s his twisted version of love.

🎀 He sometimes tries to do things that he thinks normal people in relationships do. like bringing you food, even if it’s bizarre or unsettling in context.

[rosemaze-reveries]

Hello! I found your blog and love the writing

Here’s sit with me while I tell you my favorite idea 💡

✨So the hunters (all if possible) come back to the manor after a long match of smelling sweat and blood upon walking towards their shred room with reader they catch a scent of their lovers perfume- mind going a mile a minute with the idea of their lover being in they arms and just melting from the stress of the day ✨

Thoughts 💭

ANON. anon...... this is the kind of scenario that makes me CRAZY uegh.. when their judgment's clouded by bloodlust but inhaling your scent brings them back to their senses >>> 🤒 let me be your lighthouse home etc etc. sign me UP.

for some blurbs, this turned into a broader "hunter comes straight to you after a rough match" without the perfume bit. kind of misunderstood the assignment but either way, here's this!

🌪️✂️👘🏳️🏴🦌🐍🪞🎻🔩🐟🕯️

🌪️ Ithaqua brings an air of gloom with him into your bedroom. Driven by nothing but a searing want for you, he skips over any pleasantries to tear off his mask and shove you onto the ground. A bed of wind tries to break your fall, but his impatience gets the better of him; he pins you to the floor with such force that he disrupts his own gale from cushioning your way down. Not that you care in the moment. You’ve been waiting to have him in your arms all day. He leaves a scattering of love bites and wet kisses up your neck.

✂️ Jack has one particular tune that he hums after his worst matches. Months of living together have left you all too familiar with it. His song begins from the foot of the staircase and steadily crisps itself to your ears as he draws nearer. Afraid of the state you might find him in, you rush outside to meet him at the top of the banister. He pauses with one foot on the next step. “Curious,” he says, greeting you with a cordial smile. “It’s not often a little mouse stands in my path—not on purpose.” His blouse is soaked a shade of reddish brown, and no amount of easy banter can hide the weariness in his eye. “Well, you’ve saved me the trouble. I was on my way to ravage you next.”

👘 Michiko drags her nails along the walls of the corridor, leaving a dull streak of blood behind. She doesn’t make a sound when she slips inside your room, practised in her delicate step; you don’t even feel the dip in the mattress before she has her shoulders arched over you. Eyeing you tenderly, she rolls a warm thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m home,” she murmurs. “Your sweet scent led the way again.” She realizes she left a smear of red on your skin, and her hand jerks away, startled by the reminder of what she had been doing just minutes ago.

🏳️ Bi’an’s arms wind around the small of your back, drawing you into his chest for a slow, tender embrace. It’s the first thing he does after returning to the manor: falling straight into your arms. As his lips trail down your forehead, peppering soft kisses in their path, you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. A whisper escapes you about how out of the blue this is, and in response he brings a kiss to the corner of your eye, prompting them to flutter shut. “Let me have you, just for a little while…” Those sweet kisses he’s so good at descend your neck, growing rougher the lower he goes.

🏴 Wujiu’s arms wind around your stomach, pressing his chest flush against your back. He hasn’t uttered a word since returning from his match, aside from a tepid “Nothing worth mentioning” when asked about his day. This sudden affection takes you by surprise. You try to turn your head to face him but he catches your chin, steering your gaze back to the wall. “Don’t look at me.” Whatever is clouding his mind today is better left alone, you realize. You lay your hands on top of his, squeezing them, encouraging him to let your presence blot out everything on his mind. Warm breath fans your collarbone as he nuzzles into your neck, drinking in your scent.

🦌 Bane doesn’t like to discuss his matches. It makes no difference whether they are quick or slow, a win or a lose, they always weigh on him the same way. He sits on the edge of the bed lost in thought. You decide to break the tension first by greeting him with a hug from behind, your chin hooking over his shoulder. Bane isn’t big on physical affection. But after a while he cups a tender hand to your temple, palm taking up the entirety of your face, and presses you gently into him.

🐍 Yidhra might be the hunter most detached from the nightmares of the manor games. They provide nothing but leisure for her, and she’s never felt particularly passionate about them, win or lose. Her followers are the ones who give her the most trouble. When they resist her will, her consciousness splinters apart, some days leaving her too weak to herd them back again. These are typically the days she comes for you. You aren’t sure when she enters your room, but sometimes you catch glimpses of her tail in your peripheral, never to be seen when you’re looking on purpose. Her voice floats in the back of your mind: Mine, mine, mine, mine… There is nothing that binds you to her, yet you’re the only one who never resists her.

🪞 Mary barges into the room clumsily for someone of her poise. She struggles to prop herself against the door, muddy skirt stiff in awkward folds. “My mind is a mess,” she exclaims, voice clear but breathless at the same time. “Where are you? Come settle me.” The second she spots you, she sulks over to toss her arms around your neck, finding a seat in your lap. Clearly she isn’t concerned about observing her usual decorum today. Her dress is heavy and splotched with muck you don’t care to identify, but you don’t mind holding her as the burdens of the day ease off her shoulders.

🎻 Antonio’s fingers instinctively travel to the liquor cart by the window. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but feeling around to find nothing but an empty platter gives him pause. One resigned cluck of his tongue later, you feel tendrils of hair coil around your waist and wrists. They pluck you up from your side of the bed and present you in front of him as if you’re nothing more than a doll. “Not a drop to console me?” he complains, knowing you’ve hidden his bottles again. Then his head tilts slightly, taking in your scent. You can practically see detention’s fiery glow return to his eyes. “No, perhaps you are right—there is something more intoxicating for me here.”

🔩 Percy - “Hm...” He’s scrutinizing you with such intensity that you wonder if something’s on your face. He leans over to take an exaggerated whiff of you, and your heart sinks in offense. You have half a mind to tell him you showered just that morning, so it’s probably not you — besides, he’s the one who’s been tangoing with carcasses all day — but Percy keeps a thoughtful look about him. “You smell full of life,” he muses. “That fragrance you wear, it was popular back in the day. Transports me to the city again.” He would know better than you; you just found this perfume in the trunk of a dusty old room. When he comes closer, clasping either hand around your face, you let him lose himself in the nostalgia. Moments like these are all you have to keep yourselves sane in the manor.

🐟 Grace’s mouth is pulled into a taut frown when she flings open the door. You can see a slight quiver in her lip if you squint. Her harpoon clatters on the ground and she drops onto your bed, braid falling out, face buried in a pillow. There’s little you can do except rub a soothing hand in circles on her back. When she peeks over her arm with a gentle plea in her eyes, you wonder if she’s asking for a deeper massage—but you don’t get the chance to ask before her hand latches onto your forearm, tugging you down to lie with her.

🕯️ Philippe settles for a glass of brandy and his bundle of sketches. He’s resting on the chaise by the foot of the bed, not his work desk where he’d usually be. Rather than drafting new ideas he’s simply thumbing through the old ones, mechanically, breaking from his cycle only for a sip of his glass. It’s like your lover’s been replaced by a puppet. You feel unnerved enough to intervene: stripping him first of his glass, his sketches, then his monocle, you tip him back onto the cushion. You expect him to complain about having to get back to work, but he doesn’t protest. Tonight is for him, you decide. As his dark hair sprawls out beneath him, you straddle his thighs, and his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “I’m terribly jealous of this magic of yours,” he murmurs, faint lilt in his voice. “It’s always you who brings me back from the stars.”

[ghosts-to-reid]

Red Herrings

~SPENCER REID REQUESTS OPEN~

Request: Heyyy, so I don’t know if you even like Taylor Swift, but I NEED a smutty Spencer fic inspired by Guilty as Sin x So Highschool…I‘m talking build up and idk after a case the team all go to Rossi‘s house and the next thing they know is they‘re drunkenly playing spin the bottle…maybe Spence getting jealous or something? And once reader spins again and it lands on him he can’t hold back anymore, so they make the best of the time they have going at it like horny teenagers. She‘s been waiting for that since she first met him. Imagining how it would feel to finally touch him. @mariechristine00

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, Unprotected sex, dom!spencer, sub!reader, kinda emily x reader??? not really, spin the bottle, Fingering, teasing, jealousy, orgasm denial, creampie, rough sex, cockwarming

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I have had very bad writers block, i hope this is ok!

Four women had died before the team had arrived in Arkansas. All of them had been sex workers, murdered in the same fashion as Jack The Ripper's victims. It wasn’t uncommon for serial killers to replicate Jack the Ripper, but this Unsub had paid incredibly close attention to the habits of the original Jack, which should’ve made him easy to find, right? Predict his next move based on the timeline of the original crimes. Except- This unsub had adapted Jack the Rippers techniques to the modern day, even sending red herrings, making him harder to catch. After 8 days though, the team had finally done just that, leaving everyone to finally feel the full effect of exhaustion.

The jet journey back had been fairly quiet, you and Spencer had fallen asleep on the couch together, your head leaning against his shoulder, his head resting on top of yours. The team had shared a look after spotting the pair of you in such a position. 

They had noticed shared glances between you both, how Reid would always bring you cups of coffee, how you’d bring enough lunch for two- knowing he wouldn’t eat if you didn’t. They’d heard all about your weekend hangouts, nights at the movies, dinners at each of your apartments. More often than not, you’d find both of you at one of your apartments, having stayed too late from a movie marathon, or even simply just wanting to stay  in each other's company.

Any outsider who saw you both would think you were together, but you weren’t. Not like it want something either of you wanted, no it was quite the opposite. There were definite feelings between you both, and neither of you denied it. Both of you were just afraid to ruin what you had, so instead of facing them, you both lived in willful ignorance. Something the team were becoming exceedingly frustrated to watch, but neither of you would take their advice either. Leaving them stewing in frustration as the pair of you willfully ignored your feelings.

So, seeing you both sleeping on one another? Not as exciting as it used to be, but still made them happy to see.

Rossi is the one who woke the two of you up after the jet had landed. The rest of the team were gathering their things as the two of you stirred, sitting up straight at the sight of the older man before you, making him chuckle.

“Just wanted to let the pair of you know that we're having a dinner party at my house tomorrow night. 6pm Sharp, okay?” Spencer glanced over to you, whilst you rubbed your eyes, sleepily muttering an agreement. Following your lead, he smiled at Rossi, accepting the invitation on his own behalf. 

Spencer helped you gather your things before guiding you out to his car, you often carpooled together and when you were at work the day of the case was no exception. You were still half asleep as he sat you down in the passenger seat of his beat up car, before sitting himself in the driver's seat.

“Can I stay at your house tonight, please?” You quietly asked, head leaning on the window, gazing at him through half lidded eyes “I feel bad for you driving all the way to my house, and doubling back to your apartment.”

The man driving smiled and muttered a small ‘Of course’, keeping his eyes on the nearly empty road. This wasn’t uncommon, ever since a mix up with hotel rooms a few months back, sleepovers had been added to your roster of ‘totally platonic’ activities you did together. Cuddling, sharing space, even beds, was now normal for you two. The rest of the team, if privy to this information, would point out how this was a manifestation of your feelings for each other; pushing the boundaries between friendship and romance, to try and fulfil your longing for each other subconsciously. Damn profilers.

The fact that this aspect of your relationship was secret from the team was also further proof that you both understood the implications. But you were just friends, right?

The car journey was quiet and quick, Spencer passed your go bag to you, mirroring you when he slung his own over his shoulder before grabbing your hand and leading you inside of his building.

Once inside, the pair of you set about your bedtime routines, changing in the same room, backs to each other. Brushing your teeth together, and slowly sliding into the warmth of Spencer’s Dark green covers. Small good nights are bid as Spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, leg habitually landing over your him, effectively caging you as close to his chest as he could.  Though, you were no different, lacing your arms around his middle, crossing your leg over his, if you could get any closer you could. It was just natural to the pair of you, being as close as possible to one another just made you both feel better, but you both would never mention that to anyone. 

After a few minutes, when Spencer is sure you have fallen asleep, he places a small kiss to the crown of your head. Gently stroking the back of your head till he soon follows suit.

The next day, the two of you wake up entangled in each other's arms still. The mid morning light streamed through the curtains, gently rousing you both from your slumber.

Spencer lazily rubbed his fingers along your arm, up and down, until you finally roused fully. Sleepily smiling up at him, you hum as you bring your hand to meet his, intertwining your fingers together. Nudging yourself closer into his chest, he lets out a small chuckle.

“Morning, sleepy head.” He smiled as he squeezed your hand, he could hear a muffled “g'morning’” from you. Slowly, and hesitantly, he pulls his hand from yours, moving your head from his shoulder so he can look at you. He loved how you looked when you just woke up. Lips in a pout, eyes still half lidded, a slightly confused look on your face; he thought it was the cutest thing. As your eyes met his, his smile grew at the sight of your slightly messy hair. The hand holding your face slowly smoothes it down as he speaks.

“Do you want to shower and I'll go make breakfast?” He asked quietly, you nodded, still half asleep. Neither of you wanted to move yet, content in each other's arms. If you were lovers, it would be acceptable to say ‘no, I want to stay in bed with you’- But you are only best friends, nothing more. The realisation dawns on you both simultaneously as you both finally break from each other's hold. Though now feeling empty, you both move to perform your respective routines for the morning. It was around three that afternoon that you finally left Spencer’s house. After breakfast, the two of you had settled on his couch watching TV all morning, until you realised that you should probably go home to get ready for Rossi’s party tonight, Spencer offered to come to your house instead and sit with you as you got ready. He showered quickly, grabbing a change of clothes, before driving you both to your apartment around four.

Sitting with you was exactly what he did as you got ready, he sat in your room reading through your bookshelf as he waited, occasionally watching you as you put on your makeup and did your hair. When you were ready, he had changed as well, the pair of you dressed smart  but not too fancy. Your idea, of course.

“I’m sorry but there is no way I was going to a Rossi party in a tight dress,  I want to comfortably eat as much pasta as I want without feeling like I can’t move” Was what you had said.He laughed, and you both climbed into your car. You had worn a long summer dress, it flowed loosely around your frame, landing just below your knees. The dress was a a darker lilac, with dark purple flowers haphazardly splashed around the fabric. He had picked it for you when you had asked him to choose between two, unsure which you wanted to wear. Obviously, he chose his favourite colour. The thin straps accentuated the curve of your shoulders, he found his gaze landing on your neck for a moment too long before he reminded himself that you were just friends.

Pulling up to Rossi’s house, you parked the car. As you learnt into the back seat to grab your purse, he quickly hopped out of the car to open your door for you. He took your hand, closing the car door with the other. You smile at how much of a gentleman he is, intertwining your fingers with his before he has a chance to pull away. Hands staying intertwined the entirety of the walk into Rossi’s living room, breaking only to greet the rest of the team.

As the night flowed on, so did the wine. Dinner had been eaten, Spencer was amused at your gleeful motions as you reached for seconds, having your fill without worry. The team imbibed hard, bottles of Rossi’s expensive wine collection had been emptied before he had shooed the team away. Penelope, always the party animal, invited the team to continue the party at her place. Hotch was the only one who refused, wanting to get home to Jack. JJ and Will had agreed without hesitation, JJ’s mother being in town they had the whole night off, Emily followed suit of JJ, Derek agreeing without hesitation of course. The team glanced at you, Spencer and yourself sharing a look, silently communicating before you both agreed. Ordering a taxi to Penelope's house, you all piled into the minibus they sent. 

One quick trip to the 24/7 liquor store around the corner, the team minus Rossi and Hoth were gathered in Penelope’s living room. Spencer sat behind you on the sofa whilst you sat on the floor, between his legs. The team were thoroughly drunk now, enjoying their time off as best they could. Derek, ever the party animal, finished his beer with a loud ‘Ahhh’, grabbing everyone's attention. He held the now empty bottle into the air with a triumphant grin.

“Do you know what time it is, ladies and gentleman?” He smirked, an evil glint in his eye as he scanned the room. Confusion painting the faces of everyone around you. “Spin the bottle!” He laughed, moving to sit on the floor in line with you. Penelope squealed in glee, clapping her hands as she moved from her position to sit across from Derek. JJ shrugged to Will, who chuckled and joined the rest of the team on the carpet. Emily sat beside you soon after, and Spencer, albeit reluctantly, slinked from his place on the sofa behind you to sit. Once the team had gathered, Derek explained the rules as he moved the bottle into the middle of the newly formed circle.

“Ok, we’ve all played before. You spin, and whoever it lands on you give them a big old kiss” He paused to wiggle his eyebrows at Penelope, who giggled at him “If it lands on yourself, spin again”

The man looked around, seeing the team ready, before starting the game. He gave the bottle a quick spin, and leant back as he watched the bottle spin. After a few moments, the bottle lands on JJ, who he respectfully pecs quickly on the corner of the mouth, like she was his grandmother, Obviously slightly disappointed to land on the one married woman in the circle. 

“My turn?” JJ asked with a small slur,  she held a glass of white wine in her hand carefully, leaning to spin the bottle. Landing on Emily, There is a small pause between them before they share a longer peck, Emily quickly moving on.

“Please, God, do not make me kiss Reid.” She joked, making the team laugh as she spun the bottle. Whilst the team watched the bottle spin, You nudged Spencer’s shoulder comfortingly. You knew Emily wasn't being mean, and so did he.

The bottle did, however, land on you. Raising your eyebrows in surprise, Emily clapped her hands

“That was close!” She laughed, JJ smirking and shaking her head amused. Penelope sighed 

“I want a go” She pouted “I want a chance to kiss the one and only Derek Morgan.” She complained loudly. Everyone laughed at her fake tantrum, before Emily quickly moved in before you, softly grabbing the sides of your face, and bringing you in for a big closed mouthed kiss. It took you by surprise, and after a few seconds she pulled away, patting you on the shoulder.

“You’re welcome.” She deadpanned, making the rest of the team laugh once more. Still taken aback, you didn’t notice how Spencer had tensed up beside you after he saw your bewilderment from Emily’s short kiss. He watched silently as you leant forward to take your turn, eyes shooting up in surprise when he realised the bottle had landed on him. 

A chorus of ‘OOO’s’ rang through the living room, Red painted both his face and yours as you turned to each other. He blinked slowly at you and, after a second, the wine he had been drinking flushed him with confidence, he softly grabbed the side of your face, kissing you deeply, tongue running lightly over your bottom lip before he pulled away.

 Another chorus of cheers were heard from around you, the team celebrating seeing one of you finally make a move. Spencer smirked as he pulled away, seeing your shocked face from Emily’s kiss change. You were staring at him, pupils blown and  doe eyed, panting lightly through parted lips, cheeks flushed. He didn’t have a moment to enjoy it, as a knock ripped through Penelope’s apartment. She jumped quickly, answering to find her elderly neighbour, complaining about the noise. 

That was your cue to go. Spencer called a taxi for you both, you had already planned for him to stay the night. Both of you had shared a few bottles of wine between Rossi’s and Penelope’s, but that kiss seemed to have sober the two of you up. The taxi ride wasn’t awkward, more so quiet. Neither of you knew what to say after the kiss, just sharing the occasional joke about the night. 

Walking up to your house, you opened the door silently. After you both take your shoes off, he takes your hand once more, leading you to your bedroom- Once more setting off into your night time routine. Once you are changed, you sit on the edge of your bed, busying yourself by putting on hand lotion, you hardly register that Spencer has finished in the bathroom until you feel the bed dip behind you. Without thinking much of it, you continue slowly rubbing your hands together when you feel Spencers hands grab your hips. A jolt of electricity shot up your spine before Spencer’s lips connected to your neck. 

The surprise caused you to let out a gasp, your hand shooting up to hold his curls.

“S-Spencer?” You gasped the question as his grip tightened, continuing to kiss and nip at your exposed neck. It felt amazing, his lips against your skin, tender yet hungry. His desperation for you translated through every touch of his lips to flesh. Eventually, his lips assault reached your jawline, You heard him moan as you lightly tugged at his hair, an involuntary action after he lightly nipped at your earlobe, eliciting a low gasp of pleasure from you. One of his hands let your hip go, moving your head to face him. He stared at you with such hunger, such adoration, his eyes were full of so much love, but painted with a dark lust. His eyes flickered between your eyes and lips, he was just inches away. Both of you panted as you looked at one another, Spencer leaned in first, crashing his lips to yours. He kissed you with such fervour, it caught you off guard. Eventually, you melted into his kiss, moving from his grip to face him head on. His arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Snaking your arms around his neck, he sighed into the kiss. After a moment he pulls away and begins to plaster kisses all over your face

“I don't…” he kisses your forehead “want you” he kisses your cheek “ Kissing anyone”  He kisses your nose “But me.” He locks eyes with you for an intense moment before placing another kiss to your lips. 

When he pulls away, he's still got one hand on your hip. You are both out of breath after his massacre of kisses. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He meets your eyes, searching for any regret of what you just did. He finds none, but he needs to hear you tell him. He watches as you bite your swollen lip, he stops himself from letting out a small groan at the sight of you like this. Your face is flushed, hair messy, giving him that wide doe eyed look once more. He can’t help the rush of heat that travels through him at the sight of you, shifting himself in hopes you do not notice. 

“Don’t stop…” You spoke quietly, and before you knew it, Spencer had you pinned on your back to the bed. His mouth was on yours, a feverish pace as he kissed you, hands now exploring every inch of you he could. He slotted himself between your legs as you opened them, wanting him closer. You had become a moaning mess at this point, muffled only by his lips on yours. He explored your mouth with his tongue, hand dipping to the hemline of your pyjama shorts. His fingers played with them for a moment before you pulled them down, along with your underwear. Spencer smirked at your action, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“You’re so eager…” He purrs,  eyes moving slowly down to see you, his words suddenly make you self conscious. Making a move to close your legs the best you could with him between them, he quickly stopped you, prying your knees wide. He lets out a low moan as he looks down at the state of you, already wet for him. The way he looks at you makes you squirm, never had you seen someone so excited to see you, all of you. The look in his eyes was dark as one of his hands grazed slowly down your thigh. His eyes move to meet yours in question as his fingers inched closer and closer to your throbbing core. Nodding feverishly, he smirked once more.

“Use your words. Tell me what you want.” His voice was harsher than the Spencer you knew, his tone was authoritative, nothing like the timid man you knew.

“I want you, Spencer.” Was all you could whisper out, overwhelmed by how he was making you feel. Without any further hesitation, his lips caught yours in another fervent kiss. One hand held your cheek, whilst the other was making its way down between your legs. 

Smirking at you squirm under him, his hand finally reaches its destination. Long fingers begin to explore your folds, occasionally bumping your clit as he gathers your slik. From his position over you, you can see how much he's enjoying this. How he knows he has power over you, the look on his face says it all. He’s almost observing you, brows furrowed as his eyes are glued to your face. He smirks at every pleasured moan, every twisted expression as you grind against his palm involuntarily. 

“You like that?” He asks you, smugly. A long finger now teasing your entrance, you can’t help but whine in response. He lets a low chuckle out, finger dipping into you, only slightly. His grin widens when he hears the strangled moan, disrupted by disappointment. 

“More…” You gasp, he has sat up straight now, one hand still teasing your entrance, whilst the other moves to hold down your hips.

“You want more? I’ll give you more.” He bites his bottom lip as he pushes his finger knuckle deep, he doesn’t let you adjust as he begins to fuck you steadily. Absent-mindedly, you grind down once more, only to be stopped by Spencer’s grip. “No, not yet, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He cooed, sounding entirely unsympathetic as he slid another finger in.

This was a side of Spencer that you’d never thought to exist. The look in his eyes, the way he moved, the way he spoke to you- It was primal. The sweet, innocent nerdy bookworm was currently ruthlessly finger fucking you. You never thought a day like this would happen, but with the way he was making you feel, it was almost electric. 

As he continued, he brought his other hand down to your clit, massaging small circles into the sensitive nub. Gasping his name, you can’t help but grind your hips against his hand, seeking any kind of relief you could.

“I-I’m so close-” You manage to choke out “Im gonna cum-” 

Spencer quickly removed his fingers from their place inside of you, causing you to let out a frustrated cry “No! Sp-encer… WHy” You pant, it was embarrassing how needy your best friend had managed to make you. As you slowly managed to recollect yourself, you managed to meet his gaze. A smirk was still present as he brought his fingers to his mouth, popping them into his mouth. Biting back a whimper, you watch him suck your slick clean from his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn't help but watch him, lips a part, eyes doe like, a dumbfounded expression that he loved. The same expression you gave him after he kissed you. Letting out a low groan, he began to remove his sweatpants, keeping his eyes trained to yours as you watched him release himself. 

He made quick work of aligning himself with your aching entrance, looking up to give you one last mischievous smirk before leaning in to whisper to your ear

“When I do this, you're gonna promise to be just mine?” His breath is hot against your skin, you eagerly agree. HHe stays leaning over you as he slides in, slowly. A  groan is muffled in your shoulder as he bottoms out, staying still for a moment. You can't help but dig your nails into his back, the way he felt filling you up was just too good.

Without warning, Spencer began to move, sluggish at first, but he quickly began to gain speed. A loud moan escaped you as he sped up, lewd sounds filling the room as he began to fuck you relentlessly. 

“Spencer!” YOu cry, he leans up, pulling you down the bed by your hips, he pulls your legs around his shoulders as he finds a new purchase. The new position makes him hit your core in a way you’ve never experienced. “Dont stop”

He doesn't reply,distracted by the feeling of your pussy around him. A tight knot began to wind in your stomach, once more threatening to snap.

“I'm gonna cum, please can i cum?” You begged through tears of pleasure. Spencer let out a malicious laugh, loving the mess you had  become. He didn’t reply, simply speeding up his hips, answering your question. All you could do was grab the bedsheets as he brought you to your climax, a loud groan filling the space as he continued to fuck you, cooing praises as he rides you through it. 

As your orgasm winds down, you feel his hips begin to stutter irregularly. He grunts with effort, hair sweatily covering his face. “Where can i cum, baby?” He gasps, hips tense as he tries to hold on. Involuntarily, the sight of him now struggling turned you on, making you clench around him. A loud gasp interrupts him “Fuck, let me cum inside, please?” He begs

“Yes!” You moan, without a second thought, you felt the man release, filling you up completely. He lets a loud strangled groan as he bottoms himself out once more, collapsing on top of your body.

There is a moment of silence as you both lie there. It seems to dawn on you that you have just been fucked by your bestfriend, making you panic momentarily. The panic subsides when you notice the tickle of his fingers on your bare side, tracing small patterns as he nuzzles closer into your neck. Bringing a hand up to play with his hair, you let yourself melt into his touch. His weight on top of you was a comfort, his warmth radiated from his skin to yours, and all you could do was feel safe. 

After a moment, your clarity comes back. Curiosity takes over, you weren’t complaining about what had happened between you both, in fact, you wanted this for years. But why now?

“Baby?” You hum out, testing the waters of your new predicament. Though, it seems silly to be hesitant in a pet name when he was still currently inside of you. His head perks up nonetheless, the usual sweet and smiley Spencer seemingly coming  back as he gives you a soft smil;e at the nickname.

“Yes, baby?” He hummed back, a dopey smile on his face as he emphasised the pet name, Making your heart flutter.

“Not that i'm complaining about this… but what brought this on?” You asked, quaking a brow in question. A blush creeps across Spencer’s face, shifting slightly in his place on top of you. 

“I… Well. I was jealous…” He mutters, now exceedingly shy compared to the side of him he has just shown you. The surprise made your brows shoot up, giving him a questioning look, spurring him to continue “When Emily kissed you… I just got jealous, the look on your face… I’d never seen it before. I didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, but after your turn…” He trailed off, eyes trailing your naked body underneath him. The sight of you seemed to re awaken his dominant side as he caught sight of where you were both still connected. He lets a huff of a laugh out as he drags his hips out slowly, before slamming himself back into you, happy at the moan he managed to take from you. That cocky grin found his lips once more as he continued his motions, slowly dragging his hips out and slamming himself back in, all the way to the base.

He didn’t need to say anything else, as soon you were both too preoccupied in the feeling of one another once more.

When the two of you return to the office together on Monday, Hand in hand, Spencer still in the same suit the team had seen him in Friday, the team all but threw a parade. Derek dejectedly passed Emily a twenty as they watched the man, not so secretly, kiss you in the kitchenette.

[dolliestfairy]

Yandere Vampire Men x Chubby!Nun!reader

𑁍 Tw; Stalking, Monster-Fucking, Obsessiveness, Somnophilia, Noncon/dubcon, breeding kink (?), biting(obv), harshy grabbing, blood mentioned, virginity-take, the words 'rotten', implied murdering & religious theme. dead dove. Chubby Reader Fics With No Skintone Of Reader Mentioned.

This is a dark yandere fanfiction. if you dont like it then just block me ;) ୧₊˚

୨୧💭 thinking abt yandere!vampire!men who is obsessed with chubby!nun!reader. yandere!vampire!men whos freezing heart is now stuck with you. yandere!vampire!men whos colded heart is melting from fluttering once his eyes meet your plump & round appereance. yandere!vampire!men who eats all the other nuns & peoples who talked down on you. no creature ever should tell you what to do or else he'll rip their jaws off and snatched their ribs open. yandere!vampire!men who wants you to be his spouse, he wants you to be with him forever in the dead life! isnt that sound so spectacular my dear? yandere!vampire!men whos hands likes to touch your big ol thighs while you were sleeping, rubbing them softly up and down. at first it was belly, but the way of where he placed his hands is getting lower as he touch your thighs and later on his hands would touch your pussy and rubbing it softly within his fingers. putting his fingers in the middle of the entrance of your pussy lips. yandere!vampire!men who soon enough is inside you while you're half unconscious. whispering in your ears of how he is your savior and later on you'll get to marry him in the after life in which you just nod while your body is basically served his own. yandere!vampire!men who harshly grabbed your waist and stretch it apart, grabbing it so hard you can really feel his claws makes a pattern of it. it was feeling hurt enough to make you yelp until he start to put his fangs into your neck. pushing through your flesh while the blood slowly came out of the holes where his fangs made. slowing his thrust speed as you felt your body go warm and warm, until your vision start to become more and more blur, when your vision was starting to look white as you passed out at the chruch in the middle of the night where you just handed your virginity over someone or some 'creature' that you dont even know about. as your head and vision slowly and slowly become more unconscious, where you heard the creature muttering "finally, you are mine now."

Those Cold-blooded Vampires Are ;

OBITO UCHIHA, RYOMEN SUKUNA, Geto Suguru, Mahito, Nanami, Sasuke uchiha, VLAD TEPES, Hades, Sae Itoshi, Bachira, HOSHIGAKI KISAME, Mikey, Eren, Jack The Ripper, Kuroo Tetsuro, Semi Eita, Tsukishima Kei, Suna Rintarou, ITTO, Dottore, WRIOTHESLEY, Diluc, Zhongli, Kakashi Hatake, EVERY DIABOLIK LOVERS MEN, Buddha, Johan, Tendou, Oikawa & MALLEUS.

[reallyromealone]

Sebastian michaelis x demon/vampire butler reader? Omegaverse perhaps?

Title: a bit bitey

Fandom:black butler

Characters: Ciel, Sebastian

Fic type: fluff, omegaverse, suggestive content

Pairings:

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, fluff, suggestive themes, vampire reader

Notes: IM BAAAAAACK >:)

Summary: Reader is a vampire who drinks the blood of alphas who fall for his charms and gets mistaken for Jack the Ripper and gets chased by Sebastian and offered a position be can't refuse

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was said that when a demon bedded a witch that it would create something truly unholy that would walk the earth craving human flesh, unable to touch the sun.

It's why (name) found his home in London, a lovely home with his centuries accumulated wealth and all his trinkets over the years scattered around, like a museum of his immortality.

"I was so hungry..." (Name) Sighed, the Omega watching as the man dropped to the ground, body drained of all blood and (name) licked his lips, a bit of blood on his top lip. A sense of euphoria washed over the Omega who let out a sigh before stepping over the dead alpha, seeing a wanted poster for Jack the Ripper, whoever that guy was sure made feedings easy...

It was the dead of night, no one really in the streets and the oil lamps lighting his path home, a pep in his step and soft humming could be heard.

He was always so happy after a good feeding.

"There he is! Sebastian, get him!" A child's voice could be heard and (name) turned to lock eyes with a deep red pair... A demon.

(Name) Immediately bolted, the young blue eyed boy going into his carriage to wait while his demon stalked down the street.

Running through alleyways and corners, (name) was thankful for his speed and lack of footsteps, slipping into his bedroom door and closing it with a sigh.

Safe.

"Fu--" (name) was pinned to the ground by the black haired alpha, arms pinned to his side "you know, people would typically take one on a romantic stroll or maybe a dinner before doing something like this" (name) snarled at the alpha who wasn't even remotely phased "you have been causing problems..." Sebastian said casually, eyeing the Omega who huffed "I'm simply having dinner" (name) didn't particularly care for the humans, really seeing them as food "you killed five prostitutes"

Huh?

"My apologies but I don't pursue other omegas" (name) said simply "I pursue alphas, they're easier" Sebastian stared him down, looking for any trade if a lie but when he found nothing he let go of his wrists but stayed on the vampires hips "is there anything else I can assist you with Sbeastian?" Remembering the name the boy called the demon "are you looking for employment?" Sebastian asked curiously, (name) raising an eyebrow at the question.

"What are you on about?"

"I can offer you something, an exchange"

"What could you possibly offer me?"

"Demon blood in exchange for employment" (name) didn't need money, he didn't need items or anything material as he lived for centuries and had an Elizabethan era outfit in a chest in the attic of his home. "You are willing to give me your blood?" (Name)s eyes were blown out while moving to touch the others cold neck, right around his jugular "no more attacking humans, work under me and you get demonic blood" demonic blood was like a fine wine to a vampire, addictive and delicious.

Sebastian could smell the omegas pharamones even when masked, biting his lips "do you know what you're asking of me, alpha?"

"I am well aware of what in asking, Omega" Sebastian whispered, getting closer to the other "I'm half human, do you think you can handle my mortal emotions? I am very high maintenance" (name) didn't flinch, the twos lips barely touching and eyes locking "I think I can manage, humans are needy creatures"

"Half human"

"Ah yes, like a mutt"

(Name) Glared "my my what a charmer, can you please kindly get your flat bottom off me alpha?" (Name) Batted his eyes "don't you have your child to tend to?"

"Do you accept my offer?"

"I suppose I will become your mate..." (Name) Huffed, looking at the alpha who was now his mate "my heat is in two weeks, I will be having it here and I will be keeping my residence for such matters or if you annoy me too much"

Sebastian silently chuckled at the Omega he chose, a snarky vampire who didn't care for silly human traditions on being an Omega.

This was going to be fun.

[estellan0vella]

More Than Enough Time: L. Mh Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 11.6K

CW: Anxiety, Menace Jisung, Secret Simp Minho

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The room is alive with the sound of clinking glasses, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter that slices through the warm air of the grand banquet hall. The dim, golden glow of chandeliers drips overhead, casting a soft light across the elegantly dressed guests.

You sit at the round table, nervously smoothing your hands over the silk of your champagne-coloured gown. Every so often, your fingers toy with the sapphire-encrusted hairpin holding your hair in place, a gift from your grandmother. It's more than a piece of jewellery; it's a talisman tonight, something to cling to.

Beside you, Jisung, your best friend, fidgets in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. He's dressed in a sleek black suit that contrasts nicely with his hair, but despite the confident exterior, you know he's just as anxious as you are. But for once, it feels like your nerves are trying to outdo his.

"Fuck, why did I agree to this?" Jisung mutters under his breath, glancing at you with wide eyes. "I swear to God, Y/N, if I have to stand up there and give a speech, I might just throw up all over the stage."

You force a chuckle, though it feels weak in your throat. "Join the club. I feel like my stomach's doing backflips. What if I trip in these shoes? What if I can't say anything at all and I just stand there like a fucking idiot?"

Jisung snorts, giving you a sympathetic look. "We're both fucked."

Across from you, Bang Chan, the Alpha Phi fraternity president, leans back in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. His black hair is slicked back, giving him a polished, suave look that almost distracts from the fact that he's one of the rowdiest guys you know. He gives you both a grin that's way too confident for your liking.

"Relax," Chan says. "You guys are gonna crush it. You wrote that article like badasses, now just get up there and take the damn award."

Jisung glares at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Football Star. You literally thrive on people staring at you."

"Exactly," Chan grins wider. "Which is why you should listen to me."

You shift in your seat, glancing around the table. You're surrounded by Alpha Phi members tonight, all of whom seem a lot more comfortable in their skin than you feel in yours.

Hyunjin sits next to Chan, looking ridiculously perfect as always. His long black hair falls just past his shoulders, and he's tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table while staring off into the distance. He's receiving an award tonight too, for something in the arts, and though he looks calm, you can see his jaw clenching every few seconds.

"Stop staring at the program," Hyunjin mutters to you without even glancing your way. "It's not gonna change."

You blink, realizing that you've been staring at the folded piece of paper in front of you, the one listing all the awards for the night. Yours and Jisung's, The Innovative Journalism Award, is still about fifteen minutes away, and the waiting is fucking killing you.

"Fuck," you whisper under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Felix, sitting on the other side of Jisung, notices your stress. He gives you a soft, warm smile, his freckles standing out against his fair skin. "You'll do fine, Y/N. We all believe in you."

"Yeah," Jeongin chimes in from the end of the table. His hair falls slightly into his eyes as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. He's getting an award too, something for fashion design. "We all know you're the smartest one here, so just relax, okay?"

You nod, but the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle. It's not just about the award. Sure, winning an award for the article you and Jisung wrote, a deep dive into the theory that Jack the Ripper might have been a woman, is huge.

It's the culmination of months of research, late nights, and too many cups of coffee. But the idea of standing in front of a room full of people, having all eyes on you, waiting for you to say something intelligent... it's suffocating.

Minho, who's been quiet up until now, finally speaks. He's seated directly across from you, his deep cherry red hair gleaming under the soft light of the chandeliers. "You'll be fine," he says simply, his voice calm and steady. "Just breathe."

You meet his gaze for a second longer than you intend to, feeling the weight of his words. Minho is always like this. Quietly confident, never too loud or overbearing. He's the type who can make you feel like everything's going to be okay, even when you're pretty fucking sure it's not.

"You make it sound so easy," you mutter, breaking the eye contact and taking a quick sip of your drink, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

Hyunjin shifts beside you, his gaze flickering to the stage. "It's easy for Minho because he's never nervous. Must be nice to be so fucking chill all the time."

Minho shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. "Just a talent, I guess."

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Well, share some of that talent with us because I feel like I'm about to shit myself."

There's a round of laughter at the table, but you can't join in. The knot in your stomach tightens as the minutes tick by. Your hands, now resting on the table, feel clammy. The silk of your gown is suddenly too heavy, clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel trapped. You know no one else can hear your heart pounding, but it feels deafening in your own ears.

You glance at the stage again, watching as the current award is being presented to some group for their contributions to environmental science. You're not even paying attention to the speech, just counting down the minutes, waiting for your turn. You can feel it creeping up on you. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest, the shallow breaths, the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of this room.

Suddenly, it's too much. The noise, the lights, the heat. You need air. Now.

"I—uh—I need to use the restroom," you stammer, pushing your chair back.

Jisung glances at you, concern flashing in his eyes, but he nods. "You good?"

You nod quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. Just nerves."

Before anyone can stop you, you're on your feet, weaving through the tables and out of the banquet hall. The moment you step into the hallway, the cool air hits your skin, and it's a relief, but only for a second. Your heels click against the marble floor as you make your way down the corridor, your breath coming in shallow gasps now.

You find a small side room and slip inside, closing the door behind you. The silence is almost jarring after the noise of the banquet hall, but you're grateful for it. You lean against the door, pressing one hand to your stomach and the other to your forehead. The room feels like it's spinning, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus, trying to breathe.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whisper to yourself, feeling the panic rising in your chest.

You yank the sapphire hairpin out of your hair, letting your carefully pinned-up style fall apart, the soft strands brushing against your bare shoulders. The pin feels cold in your hand, a grounding sensation, but it's not enough to stop the wave of anxiety crashing over you.

Your stomach twists painfully, and you press harder against it, as if that will somehow make it stop. But it's not working. Nothing's working.

You lean over slightly, bracing yourself on your knees, trying to remember what the hell you're supposed to do in moments like this. Breathe. You're supposed to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Simple. Easy. Except it's not.

Back in the hall, the crowd shifts with anticipation as the MC steps up to the podium, smiling widely at the gathered guests.

"And now, the recipients of this year's Innovative Journalism Award. For their brilliant work on the investigative article delving into the theory that Jack the Ripper may have been a woman, please welcome Han Jisung and Y/N L/N!"

There's a pause. Jisung's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he hears your name. He looks over to the seat you left empty minutes ago, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes turning to him.

"Fuck," Jisung mutters under his breath, pushing his chair back and standing up.

The nerves that were already gnawing at him double in intensity. His best friend isn't there to share the load, and now, he's completely on the spot. He glances over at Minho, who's been silently watching him.

Minho, though still seated, leans over slightly. "Where the hell is Y/N?"

Jisung runs a hand through his hair, his heart racing. "She, uh... she went to the restroom or something. She's been freaking out all night. I think she might be having one of her moments, man."

Minho's expression darkens slightly with concern, and he pushes his chair back. "I'll go find her."

"Wait, wait," Jisung hisses, grabbing Minho's wrist as he's about to stand. "What the fuck do I say to them up there?"

Minho glances toward the stage where the MC is starting to look a little confused, waiting for someone to approach. "Make up some bullshit. Tell them she had to take a phone call or something, just so they don't start asking too many fucking questions."

Jisung frowns, his anxiety doubling. "Dude, I can't do this shit on my own."

Minho's eyes soften for a second, something almost rare to see from him. "I know. But you've got this. Just give her the credit she deserves, take the award, and make sure someone films it so she can see it later. Chan will do that. I'll make sure she's okay."

Jisung clenches his fists for a moment, feeling the pressure crushing him. The thought of going up there alone, without you, makes him feel like he's about to pass out. But when he looks into Minho's eyes, he knows he's right. You're the priority right now.

"Alright," Jisung says finally, his voice tight with nerves. "Just... just make sure Y/N's okay, alright? You know how she gets with this kind of shit."

"I'll handle it," Minho nods, his voice low but firm. He claps Jisung on the shoulder. "Now go get the fucking award."

Jisung exhales sharply, watching as Minho slips away from the table, moving swiftly through the hall. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what he has to do next.

"Chan," Jisung mutters to his friend, who is still seated at the table, looking between him and the stage.

"Yeah?"

"Film this for Y/N, alright? Minho's going to find her."

Chan raises an eyebrow but nods, pulling out his phone without a word. Jisung swallows down the rising panic and heads toward the stage, his steps feeling heavy as the crowd watches him.

Minho doesn't waste time as he leaves the banquet hall, moving swiftly down the corridor. His steps echo softly in the quiet hallway, the muffled sounds of the award ceremony still filtering through the door behind him.

He's seen you spiral like this before, and his heart tightens in his chest. You're tough as hell most of the time, but when the anxiety hits, it hits hard. Minho knows that look in your eyes all too well. The panic, the overwhelming urge to escape. He's watched you, time and again, try to fight it, to shove it down, but sometimes, it's just too much.

You're not the type to cry during these moments; that's not how your panic works. Instead, you go silent, withdraw, pull yourself in so tight that it's like you're trying to disappear. Minho's learned to recognize the signs, the little tells. Like how you start fidgeting with your hair or that sapphire hairpin you always wear when you're stressed. The one that belonged to your grandmother. It's your good luck charm, though tonight it seems like it's doing little to stave off the rising storm inside you.

As Minho searches for you, he opens door after door, moving quickly but not frantically. His mind stays focused, methodical. He doesn't need to be panicked; that won't help you. He knows you well enough to know where you'd go in moments like this. Somewhere quiet, somewhere empty.

Finally, he reaches a small room at the end of the hallway, and when he pushes the door open, he sees you.

You're pacing back and forth, your gown swishing gently as you move. One hand is pressed to your forehead, the other to your stomach, like you're trying to physically hold yourself together. Your breathing is shallow, quick, and your eyes are wide with that familiar look of dread.

Minho's heart breaks a little as he watches you. You look so vulnerable, so unlike the confident woman you usually are. Yet, at the same time, there's something undeniably beautiful about you, even now. Even in the middle of your anxiety, you manage to carry a grace that makes his chest tighten for entirely different reasons. But now's not the time for that.

He steps into the doorway and knocks gently on the frame. "Hey, sweetheart," he says softly, using the nickname he's reserved just for you.

You look up, startled at first, but then you see it's Minho. A small, shaky breath leaves your lips. "Hey, Minho," you murmur, your voice quieter than usual.

Minho takes a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him, sealing off the rest of the world. "You doing alright?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah... I'm fine," you lie, but the strain in your voice gives you away. "I just... I don't want to go up there."

He nods, stepping closer to you, not crowding your space but just enough to make sure you know he's there. "I know," he says quietly.

He reaches out, gently placing his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers lightly brushing the soft skin there. His thumb traces over your pulse point, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing.

"It's okay. Jisung's up there right now, telling them you had to step out for an important phone call. No one's gonna make a big deal about it."

You blink at him, processing his words. "He did?"

"Yeah," Minho confirms, his voice soothing. "Chan's filming it too, so you'll still get to see the moment you're credited for the work. Don't worry about it. You don't need to put yourself through that shit."

You let out a small breath, your shoulders sagging with relief. The pressure in your chest eases slightly, though the tightness in your stomach remains. Minho's thumb continues its gentle rhythm on your neck, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

Suddenly, Minho pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you, firm but gentle, and he presses his cheek against yours. The warmth of his body, the solidness of his embrace, catches you off guard for a second, but then you relax into him. He smells like something warm and comforting, and you breathe it in, your arms coming up to grip his shoulders as you rest your head against his.

He holds you tightly, his cheek still pressed against yours, and rocks you slightly, back and forth. It's the same thing he does for Jisung when he's panicking, the pressure of the hug helping to suppress the nervous system, calming everything down.

Minho doesn't say anything for a while, just keeps holding you, his cheek brushing yours, his thumb still moving gently on the back of your neck. His breathing is calm, steady, and before long, you find your own breathing starting to match his.

The scent of your mango and passionfruit body spray lingers in the air, and Minho can't help but smile a little to himself. He's always adored that scent on you. It's light and sweet, just like you, and being this close to you, holding you like this, it makes his heart pound in his chest. But he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, it's about you, not him.

"You're crashing with Jisung at the frat tonight, right?" Minho asks after a moment, his voice low and calm.

You nod against him. "Yeah, that was the plan."

Minho pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "Let's get you back then. Fuck these fancy assholes. You earned your award, you don't need to torture yourself by staying here. Take those torture devices off your feet, too. They're not doing you any favours."

You glance down at your stilettos, your brows furrowing. "I should've worn wedges. I hate these fucking shoes."

Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head. He crouches down in front of you, his fingers already working on the small buckles of your stilettos. "Next time, wear the wedges. I know you prefer them."

You watch as he carefully unbuckles your shoes, slipping them off your feet one at a time. His movements are gentle, and something about the simple act of him helping you out of your heels brings another wave of calm. He stands back up, holding your shoes in one hand, giving you a small smirk. "Better?"

"Yeah," you murmur, wiggling your toes against the cool floor. "Better."

Minho slips his suit jacket off and hands it to you. "Here, put this on. It'll help with the cold when we head back."

You take the jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. It's too big, but the weight of it is comforting, and the scent of his cologne clings to the fabric, making you feel a little more secure.

Before you can say anything else, Minho pulls out his phone and quickly dials a number. He holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Yo, Felix," he says when the call connects. "I'm taking Y/N back to the frat. She's okay, but she needs to get out of here. You guys good?"

There's a muffled response on the other end of the line, and Minho nods. "Cool. Tell Jisung I found her, and we'll meet you all back at the house later." Another pause and Minho chuckles softly. "Yeah, I know you were planning on ditching after Hyunjin and Jeongin get their awards. We'll see you guys then."

He hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. "Alright, let's get the hell out of here."

Without waiting for you to argue, Minho crouches down, turning his back toward you. "Get on."

You blink in surprise. "What?"

"Get on," he repeats, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I'm giving you a piggyback. Your feet are gonna hurt like hell if you walk back barefoot."

You hesitate for a second, feeling a little self-conscious, but the look in Minho's eyes is so earnest, so full of quiet understanding, that you don't argue. You slip your arms around his neck, and he hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up with ease. The weight of the world seems to fall away as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your arms wrapped loosely around him.

As he starts walking, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air hit your face as you exit the building. The campus is quiet at this time of night, only the sound of Minho's footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

"Feel better?" he asks after a few moments, his voice soft.

"Yeah," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Minho. I just... I couldn't handle it in there."

"I know," he replies gently. "And that's fine. There's no point in torturing yourself for an award you already earned. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

You nod against him, feeling a little lighter with every step. The anxiety that had been clawing at your chest earlier is slowly dissipating, and you can focus on the steady rhythm of Minho's breathing, the warmth of his back against your chest. He carries you across campus with ease, his hands never faltering as he supports you.

"You know," Minho says after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet, "next time you feel like this, don't wait until it gets so bad, alright? Just grab me, or Jisung, or any of us. We've got you."

You smile slightly, your fingers curling a little tighter around his shoulders. "I'll try."

"You better," he says, a teasing note in his voice, though there's still that underlying sincerity that makes your heart warm. "Because if I have to chase you down in the middle of every fancy event, I'm gonna start charging you for these piggyback rides."

You laugh softly, the sound feeling good in your chest. "Deal. I'll make sure to pay you in pizza."

"Now we're talking."

The rest of the walk is quiet, comfortable. You can feel the weight of the night lifting off your shoulders as you approach the Alpha Phi house. By the time you reach the front door, you feel almost like yourself again, thanks to Minho and his steady presence.

When he finally sets you down in front of the house, he gives you a small smile. "See? Not so bad, right?"

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling more grateful than you can express. "Not so bad at all."

Minho grins at you as he unlocks the door to the Alpha Phi house, holding it open for you to step inside. The familiar warmth of the frat house surrounds you, a stark contrast to the cold, fancy banquet hall you'd just escaped from. The moment you cross the threshold, some of the leftover tension in your body melts away.

"Come on," Minho says, his voice low and relaxed, the same voice that had been grounding you since he found you spiralling. "Let's get you something to drink."

You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen, the soft glow of the house's lights making the space feel cosy, almost like home. The tension from the evening still clings to you a little, but Minho's presence beside you is like a steady anchor, keeping you from drifting back into panic.

When you enter the kitchen, Minho heads straight for the fridge, glancing over his shoulder at you. "What's your poison tonight? You look like you could use something strong."

You laugh softly, settling onto one of the barstools at the island, adjusting your floor-length gown so it drapes neatly around you. "Surprise me."

Minho pulls out a bottle of pineapple juice and a bottle of vodka from the fridge, giving you a wink before he grabs a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He makes quick work of mixing your drink, pouring a generous amount of vodka into the glass before topping it off with juice.

He slides your drink across the counter, the clink of the glass against the marble catching your attention. "Vodka pineapple for the lady," he says, raising his own glass. "And a double JD for me because, fuck, we've earned it."

You chuckle, taking the glass and sipping it. The sweetness of the pineapple juice mixed with the vodka goes down smoothly, and you feel some of the remaining tension in your chest loosen. Minho takes a sip of his own drink, watching you with a soft smile.

"You know," he says after a moment, leaning against the counter, "if it helps at all, you were definitely the most beautiful girl in attendance tonight."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and you can't help but smile. "You're full of shit, Minho."

"I'm serious," he insists, his eyes twinkling with amusement but also sincerity. "The moment you walked into the hall in that dress, I'm pretty sure every guy there forgot why the fuck they were even attending. It was all eyes on you."

You shake your head, sipping your drink again to hide the fact that his words make you feel more flustered than you care to admit. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, but thanks."

Minho smirks, taking another sip of his drink before his gaze softens again. "It was also pretty fucking sweet how Jisung's pocket square and tie matched your dress."

You grin, finally letting out a genuine laugh at that. "Yeah, he insisted. Said best friends and co-journalists have to match, so everyone knows we're the shit."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head in that fond, almost exasperated way he always does when he talks about Jisung. "Of course he did."

You're about to take another sip of your drink when you suddenly remember something, and your smile falters. "Shit... I forgot my hairpin in the room."

Minho doesn't hesitate. "Don't worry about it. I'll text Chan, and he'll grab it for you before they leave."

You nod, a little relieved. "Thanks. I'd hate to lose it. It was my grandmother's."

Minho pulls out his phone, already typing a message to Chan. As he sends it, he leans against the counter again, taking another long sip of his drink. "So," he says, his voice casual, "to be completely honest, I was supposed to read your article, but I never got around to it. You know, being a veterinary science major kind of takes up all my fucking time."

He's lying, and you have no idea. Minho read that article the moment it was published, studied every word like it was the most important thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

He remembers the excitement in your voice when you first started talking about the project with Jisung, and he couldn't help but get curious. So, yeah, he read it, but he doesn't want to give that away. He wants you to light up and tell him about it yourself, to see the passion in your eyes as you explain your work.

Your face brightens at his interest, and you lean forward slightly, resting your elbow on the counter as you take another sip of your drink.

"Oh my God, you're missing out," you say, your voice already more animated. "Jisung and I have this theory that Jack the Ripper was actually a woman. A midwife, to be specific."

Minho raises an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "A midwife? That's a hell of a theory. Go on."

You nod, excited now, the exhaustion from the evening momentarily forgotten. "Right? Think about it. A midwife would have had access to all the knowledge needed to perform those surgical cuts on the victims. And during that time, no one would've questioned a woman walking around in blood-covered clothes. She could've been out at all hours, and people would've just assumed she was delivering a baby or something."

Minho swirls the drink in his glass, watching you intently as you explain. "That actually makes a lot of fucking sense. Victorian sexism would've worked in her favour."

"Exactly!" you exclaim, your eyes lighting up. "Back then, no one would've suspected a woman. They were too focused on looking for some deranged man, and the police reports were all written from a male perspective. They overlooked so many possibilities simply because they didn't think a woman could be capable of something so gruesome."

Minho takes another sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on you. "That's pretty fucking brilliant. What about the eyewitness reports, though? There was at least one person who claimed to see a man near one of the crime scenes, right?"

You nod, already ready to dive into that part of the discussion. "Yeah, but Jisung and I argued that just because someone was in the area doesn't mean they were guilty. There are always people wandering around in cities, especially in a place like Whitechapel during that time. Plus, eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable, especially in the dark, in a chaotic place like that."

Minho's lips curl into a small smile as he watches you. You're practically glowing now, completely immersed in the subject matter. This is exactly why he brought it up.

Seeing you like this, seeing you so passionate, it's what he loves most about you. Though he'd never admit that out loud. He sets his glass down and leans in a little closer.

"So, basically," he says, keeping his tone light and teasing, "you're saying Jack the Ripper might've just been an extremely intelligent, sadistic woman who knew how to avoid suspicion by playing into society's sexist expectations."

"Exactly!" you say again, nodding enthusiastically. "It's just a theory, of course, but it fits so many of the facts. And honestly, it makes a lot more sense than half the other theories out there."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm impressed. That's some seriously clever shit. I'm pissed I didn't read the article now."

You smirk, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, you can still read it. It's not going anywhere."

"I will," Minho says, though he already knows it word for word. "You and Jisung killed it."

Your smile softens at the compliment, and you feel that warmth in your chest again. The same one that always seems to appear when Minho says things like this. He has a way of making you feel proud of your work, of reminding you that you're capable, even when you don't always believe it yourself.

You glance down at your glass, twirling it in your hands. "Thanks, Minho. It means a lot, really. It was... it was a tough project, but we're both really proud of how it turned out."

"As you should be," he says, his voice soft but firm. "You've always been fucking brilliant. That's why it pisses me off when you get in your head about shit."

You laugh softly, though there's a note of vulnerability in your voice. "Yeah, well, getting in my head is kind of my speciality."

Minho's expression softens, and for a moment, the teasing drops. He steps around the island, standing in front of you as he leans on the counter, his hands resting on the marble surface.

"Listen," he says, his voice lower now, more serious. "I know tonight was rough, but don't let it get to you. You've already proven yourself, not just with the award, but with everything you've done. And you've got people who have your back, alright?"

You blink, a little surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. Minho's always been good at saying the right thing, but this feels different. You meet his gaze, and there's something there, something you can't quite place. It's intense but not overwhelming, grounding in a way that makes your chest feel warm.

"I... yeah," you murmur, your voice softer. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just holds your gaze, and then he breaks the moment with a small grin. "Now, how about we ditch this heavy shit and enjoy the rest of the night? We've got the whole house to ourselves for a bit."

You laugh, nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."

Minho taps the counter. "I'll top up your drink."

The door to the Alpha Phi house swings open, and the sound of footsteps fills the hallway as the rest of the guys file in after the awards ceremony. You hear Jisung before you see him, his voice cutting through the noise with its usual mixture of excitement and concern.

"Y/N!"

The moment he spots you sitting calmly at the counter, his eyes soften with relief, but his feet don't slow down. He rushes over, crossing the room in a few long strides, and immediately starts fussing over you like a mother hen.

"Shit, are you okay? You should've texted me or something. I would've ditched and come with you."

You can't help but smile at the sight of him. Jisung's still wearing the matching pocket square and tie that he insisted on wearing to match your champagne-coloured gown, though his suit jacket is a little rumpled now from the event. His hair sticks up in odd directions, no doubt from running his fingers through it a thousand times since you left the hall. He looks stressed, but the sight is comforting in its familiarity. You let him fuss, knowing that this is just what he does. What you do for each other.

"I'm fine, Ji," you assure him, though your voice is soft. "Promise."

Jisung's eyes narrow slightly, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders as he bends down to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on top of your head. "No, you're not," he mumbles, his voice quieter now, almost like he's talking to himself. "It felt wrong up there without you. I fucking hated it."

You reach up and pat his arms, which are still wrapped around you, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm sorry."

Jisung shakes his head, pressing his cheek to your hair. "No, I should've ditched with you. You know I hate leaving you alone when you're feeling like that. I shouldn't have left you with Minho, that stinky prick."

"Oi!" Minho's voice cuts in from across the kitchen, where he's leaning casually against the counter, drink in hand. He looks amused rather than offended, a teasing grin on his face. "Who do you think you're talking about, you cheeky fucker?"

You giggle at the exchange, and Jisung, ever the dramatic one, tightens his hold on you as if Minho's words have personally wounded him. "I'm talking about you, you smelly asshole," he says, sticking his tongue out at Minho while burying his face further into your hair, clearly unbothered by his friend's retort.

Minho rolls his eyes but says nothing else, instead taking another sip of his drink and shaking his head in mock disbelief. He watches the two of you with a small smile on his lips, though there's something else lingering in his eyes. Something softer, more careful. He doesn't push the banter further, choosing to stay quiet for now.

The door opens again, and Chan enters the kitchen, looking as polished as ever despite the long night. He's still got his suit jacket on, though it's clear he's ready to relax as he pulls out his phone, glancing around at the group.

"Oi, Y/N," he says, catching your attention. "You left something behind."

Chan reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out your grandmother's sapphire-encrusted hairpin. Relief floods through you as you realize you'd completely forgotten about it being in a bubble of comfort with Minho. You reach out to take it, but before you can, Minho steps forward and gently takes it from Chan's hand.

"Here," Minho says softly, his voice lacking the usual teasing tone as he approaches you. "Let me."

Jisung watches the exchange with narrowed eyes, his arms still wrapped around you. He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the tension in the way his body stiffens slightly as Minho steps in closer.

Minho's touch is gentle as he slides the hairpin back into your hair, taking care to make sure it's secure. His fingers brush against your scalp, sending a soft shiver down your spine, but you ignore the feeling. When he's done, he gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than usual.

"Perfect," Minho says softly, stepping back.

Before you can thank him, Jisung immediately shoos him away, his hands fluttering in the air as if to physically push Minho aside. "Alright, alright, back off, Romeo. I've got it from here."

Minho rolls his eyes again, but there's an amused smirk on his face as he steps back toward the counter, grabbing his drink. "You're so fucking possessive, Ji."

Jisung doesn't bother responding to that, instead wrapping his arms more securely around your shoulders as he glares at Minho's back. You don't miss the way Jisung's grip tightens slightly, though he's still careful not to make you uncomfortable. He's always been overprotective when it comes to you, but lately, it's been more intense. Especially when it comes to Minho.

"Chan, have we got anything to drink?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through the tension as he and Jeongin finally make their way into the kitchen, both of them looking ready to relax after the long night.

Chan nods, already pulling out glasses from the cupboard. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want? We've got plenty left from the last party."

As the group starts grabbing drinks and chatting amongst themselves, Minho silently pours you another drink, setting it in front of you with a small smile. You notice that he doesn't say anything, just gives you a look that says he's checking in without being too obvious about it.

Jisung, meanwhile, is still fussing over you, his arms around your shoulders like a security blanket. He doesn't let go, not even when you shift slightly in your seat to take a sip of your drink. He stays close, watching you with worried eyes as if he's waiting for you to show any sign of distress.

"Ji, I'm okay," you assure him again, though your voice is soft. "Really."

He huffs, not fully convinced. "Yeah, well, I'll be the judge of that."

Chan finishes pouring drinks for everyone and turns to the group with a grin, raising his glass. "Alright, before we get too fucked up, let's do a toast. To Jeongin and Hyunjin for their awards, and of course, to Y/N and Jisung for killing it with that award-winning article."

The group raises their glasses in agreement, and Minho tilts his glass toward you, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cheers to Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You smile back at him, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle over you like a comforting blanket. It's moments like this, when he's not teasing or throwing sarcastic comments, that you feel a strange connection to him, something that you can't quite put your finger on. But before you can dwell on it, Jisung pulls you closer, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"To us," Jisung mutters, his voice soft in your ear. "But mostly to you."

You chuckle, clinking your glass against his. "To us."

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, drinks, and the comfortable warmth of being around friends.

Eventually, Jisung drags you up the stairs, leading you through the dimly lit hallway toward his room. After the long, chaotic night of the awards ceremony, and the endless rounds of small talk and congratulations, this is the sanctuary you need. Being around Jisung, your best friend, feels like hitting reset on a night that left your emotions tangled.

"Come on, let's chill," he says as he pushes open his door. His room is just as messy as always. Clothes scattered on the floor, textbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, and the faint glow of those stars you stuck to his ceiling two months ago.

You flop onto his bed beside him, both of you lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling. The stars glow faintly in the dark, their soft light casting a surreal calm over the room.

"Remember when you made me put these fucking stars up?" Jisung says, his voice half-teasing, half-nostalgic. "I thought they were gonna look stupid, but..."

"They're kind of nice, right?" you finish for him, smirking. "See? You should listen to me more often."

Jisung snorts. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is like, a one-time thing."

The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the distant hum of voices from downstairs, but up here, it's just the two of you. It's moments like this, with Jisung, that you appreciate the ease of your friendship. There's no need to fill every second with conversation. Just being here, next to each other, is enough.

You close your eyes for a second, letting the tension from the night melt away. But then, Jisung, ever the one to break a peaceful moment with something unexpected, speaks up again.

"You know," he starts, and you immediately know there's something coming. His tone is a little too casual. "I was thinking... maybe I should set you up with Felix or Chan."

Your eyes snap open, turning your head toward him, caught completely off guard. "What?"

He's lying there next to you, staring up at the ceiling like he didn't just drop a bombshell on you.

"I'm serious," he continues, his voice still annoyingly nonchalant. "They both think you're amazing and beautiful. Felix especially, he's been crushing on you for ages."

You blink at him, unsure whether to laugh or be genuinely surprised. "Uh... I don't know, Ji. I mean, maybe, but I'd have to think about it."

Jisung shrugs, still staring at the ceiling like this is no big deal. "No pressure. I just think you and Felix could be really good together. He's sweet, thoughtful. Plus, he thinks you're like, Aphrodite-level beautiful."

You snort. "Aphrodite? Really?"

"I'm dead fucking serious," Jisung says, turning his head to look at you. "I've heard him talk about you. The dude practically melts when you're around."

You can't help but smile a little at the thought. Felix has always been a close friend, but you never really thought about him in that way. He's easy to talk to, kind, and funny in that understated way of his.

"I don't know," you say, rolling onto your back again, staring at the stars. "Felix is really sweet, but has he ever actually said anything? Like, to me?"

Jisung shakes his head, waving the question away like it's a minor detail. "No, but come on, he's shy. Attraction is the start, right? You two have good chemistry, and he's definitely into you."

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You've always been close with Felix, and while the idea of a date with him doesn't sound bad, it feels unexpected. Like something you hadn't even considered before tonight.

"And Chan?" you ask, more to fill the silence than because you're seriously considering it.

Jisung shrugs again. "Chan's great too, but he's more focused on school and music right now. I think Felix is the better choice if you're looking for something real, you know?"

You can't help but laugh at how serious Jisung sounds. "Since when are you the expert on my love life?"

"Hey," he protests, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms. "I'm your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I know what's good for you."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Of course, you do."

"I'm just saying," Jisung continues, grinning now, "one date with Felix won't hurt. See where things go. If it works out, great. If not, no big deal."

You sigh, leaning back on your elbows. He's persistent, you'll give him that. But there's something about the way he's pushing this that makes you wonder if there's more to it than just wanting to set you up with Felix.

"Okay," you say finally, letting out a deep breath. "Fine. One date won't hurt."

Jisung beams at you, clearly pleased with himself. "Fuck yeah. I'll talk to him tomorrow and make sure everything's set for tomorrow night."

You raise an eyebrow, sitting up fully now. "Wait, tomorrow night? You're already planning this?"

"Yup," Jisung says, completely unbothered by your incredulity. "I'll talk to Felix in the morning. He's probably just waiting for an excuse to ask you out anyway."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Jisung just grins, leaning back on his hands. "You love me."

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. "Yeah, yeah."

The room falls into another comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the guys downstairs still faintly audible. You stare up at the stars again, wondering what tomorrow will bring. Felix is sweet, and he's always been a good friend. Maybe this date could be something more.

But before you can think too much about it, Jisung speaks up again.

"Felix is seriously into you, you know," he says, his voice softer now. "He hasn't said it outright, but I can tell. You're the kind of person he'd fall hard for."

You glance over at Jisung, wondering where this sudden emotional shift is coming from. "You're really sure about this, huh?"

Jisung nods, his expression more serious now. "Yeah. I just want you to be with someone who sees how fucking amazing you are. And Felix is one of the few guys I know who would treat you the way you deserve."

There's something about the way he says it that makes your chest tighten. Jisung has always been protective of you, sometimes to the point of being overbearing, but it comes from a place of genuine care. You know he just wants the best for you.

"Okay," you say quietly, more to reassure him than anything else. "If you're that sure, I'll give it a shot."

Jisung breaks into a grin again, clearly relieved. "Good. Trust me, you won't regret it."

What neither of you knows is that Minho is standing just outside the door, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides. He's heard every word of the conversation, and it's taking everything in him to not burst into the room right now.

Minho knows exactly what Jisung is doing. He's pushing Felix toward you because he doesn't trust Minho. And it pisses him off more than he can even articulate. Jisung thinks Minho is going to break your heart, that he's just some player who doesn't care. But Jisung has no idea how hard Minho's fallen for you, how much he's been holding back because he's been waiting for the right moment to tell you.

And now, hearing Jisung practically set you up with Felix? It's infuriating.

Minho grits his teeth, leaning against the wall as he listens to your conversation. He could go in there, stop this whole thing, and tell you how he really feels. But he knows Jisung won't make that easy. Jisung will fight him every step of the way because he doesn't think Minho is good enough for you.

But Jisung is wrong. Minho knows he is.

He'll prove it. One way or another.

The restaurant is buzzing with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery. You and Felix walk through the dimly lit space, a hostess guiding you to a table near the window. The atmosphere is intimate, maybe a little too intimate. The soft glow of the candles on the table reflects off the wine glasses, making the whole thing feel like the date Jisung had envisioned.

Except, it's not.

You tug at the edge of your black mid-thigh blazer dress, adjusting it slightly as you sit down, your thigh-high stiletto boots brushing against the leg of the chair. The sapphire-encrusted hairpin in your hair catches the light, just like the sapphire necklace resting against your collarbone.

Your grandmother's heirlooms feel like a protective layer tonight, a way to steady your nerves even though Felix has never been the type to make you feel anxious.

Felix slides into the seat across from you, and for a second, you take in his outfit: black slacks and a half-buttoned white shirt, his hands adorned with chunky silver rings. He looks good. And that, combined with the fact that you're both dressed like you're on the cover of a fashion magazine, only adds to the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay," Felix starts, his eyebrows raising as he takes a long look around the room. "This is fucking weird, right?"

You breathe out a laugh, feeling the tension melt slightly. "So fucking weird. What the fuck was Jisung thinking?"

Felix leans back, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know. He cornered me, said something about how I think you're beautiful, and then put two and two together and somehow got ten."

"He's been pushing this since last night. Something about how we'd be 'perfect' together. I guess he thought your opinion on my looks was enough for a love story."

Felix laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. "Well, to be fair, I do think you're beautiful. I have eyes, don't I? But that doesn't mean I've been harbouring some secret crush on you."

"Thank God," you sigh, leaning back in your chair with relief. "So we can just treat this like a regular friends' dinner?"

Felix raises his glass of wine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "To a friends' dinner."

You clink glasses, the soft ting sounding like an agreement between the two of you. Already, the night feels lighter. The weirdness of it all slowly dissipates as you both sip your wine and settle into familiar conversation.

"So," you say, gesturing around the restaurant, "if this is supposed to be a 'friends' dinner,' let's make the most of it. What's new with you? Still managing to ace all your classes while simultaneously being everyone's favourite stress baker?"

Felix grins, his eyes sparkling as he leans forward. "Of course. My cookies are keeping half the campus sane, honestly. The other half's still in denial."

You laugh, knowing all too well how Felix's baked goods have gained a sort of cult following around school. He's practically famous for them.

"Speaking of which," he continues, "I made those macadamia nut ones you like the other day. Jisung stole half of them before I could bring them over."

"Typical," you say, shaking your head. "I'll have to fight him for the rest. You know how much I love those."

The conversation flows naturally as you both dive into your usual back-and-forth. The wine loosens you up a bit, and soon enough, you're laughing loudly with Felix, completely relaxed. It feels like any other hangout, the weird pretence of a date"falling away.

The waiter comes by to check on you, refilling your wine glasses as you both finish the first bottle. Felix eyes the bottle in the waiter's hands, then glances at you, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"You know," he says, his voice lowering as if he's letting you in on some grand secret. "We could get a free bottle of wine right now."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

Felix grins like he's thought of the most brilliant plan. He slides one of the many rings off his fingers, stands up, and before you can even process what's happening, he gets down on one knee in front of you.

The people at nearby tables glance over, curious, but Felix ignores them, focusing entirely on you.

"Y/N," he says in an exaggeratedly serious voice, holding up the ring like it's some priceless artefact. "Will you make me the happiest guy in this restaurant and marry me?"

The wine has quelled any anxiety you might've felt earlier, so instead of feeling awkward, you decide to play along.

"Yes!" you exclaim dramatically, sticking out your hand for him to slide the ring onto your finger. "Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tables around you erupt into applause, people clapping and cheering as if they just witnessed the most romantic proposal of the century. Felix stands up, a smirk on his face, and the waiter, looking entirely caught up in the moment, hurries over to offer congratulations.

"Congrats!" the waiter says, looking genuinely excited. "Let me get you two a complimentary bottle of our finest wine to celebrate."

You barely hold back your laughter as the waiter rushes off. Felix slides back into his chair, grinning from ear to ear.

"I can't believe that worked," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Felix raises his glass again, this time with a proud look in his eyes. "To my fake fiancée and free wine."

You clink glasses again, still giggling as you drink to your ridiculous plan. Just when you think it couldn't get better, a couple from a nearby table leans over and says, "We've got your bill tonight. Congrats again!"

You and Felix exchange wide-eyed looks, barely managing to hold back more laughter. "Holy shit," Felix mutters under his breath. "We just hit the jackpot."

As you drink your newly acquired bottle of wine, the night only becomes more fun. The awkwardness that had hung over the evening at the start is long gone, replaced by pure enjoyment. You and Felix settle back into conversation as the restaurant continues to buzz around you.

"So," Felix says after a sip of wine, his gaze drifting toward the sapphire and diamond necklace around your neck. "Tell me about the heirlooms. That necklace and the pin. They've gotta be worth something, right?"

You nod, tracing the edge of your necklace absentmindedly. "Yeah, they are. My grandmother left them to me. She had a lot of money."

Felix leans forward, intrigued. "I had no idea. So, like, how much are we talking?"

You smile, not bothered by his curiosity. Felix has always been straightforward, and you appreciate that about him. "Well, she was a CEO. She raised me after my parents died, so I inherited pretty much everything. I've got shares in her company and in the other businesses she invested in."

Felix's eyes widen slightly. "So you're rich."

You shrug, sipping your wine. "I guess I am."

"Damn," Felix says, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Jisung never mentioned that part."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, I don't go around announcing it. I'm not really the 'rich heiress' type, you know?"

Felix nods, understanding. "Makes sense. Still, that's kind of badass. You've got all this wealth and power, and you're still just you."

You smile, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "Thanks, Lix."

The conversation drifts after that, touching on light topics as you both finish the second bottle of wine. The restaurant is still bustling, but it feels like you and Felix are in your own little world, enjoying the absurdity of the evening.

After a while, Felix leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You know why Jisung set us up, right?"

You raise an eyebrow, your mind still pleasantly buzzed from the wine. "Because he's an idiot who can't read people at all?"

Felix snorts, shaking his head. "Besides that."

You tilt your head, genuinely curious. "No, enlighten me."

Felix grins, but there's something knowing in his eyes. "Well, I'll let you figure that out for yourself. I won't ruin the fun."

You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his arm. "You're such a dick."

Felix just laughs, finishing the last of his wine before setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. "Hey, I'm just saying, Jisung had his reasons. You'll figure it out eventually."

You shake your head, still smiling as you lean back in your chair. The night has been a whirlwind of laughter, fake proposals, and more wine than you expected. Whatever Jisung's reasons were, you're just glad the evening turned into something fun instead of the awkward mess it could have been.

Felix pulls the car up to your apartment complex, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between the two of you. . It had turned into a night you didn't expect, but somehow, it felt exactly right.

Felix glances at you as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Well, that was fun."

You chuckle, shaking your head as you gather your bag and open the door. "So much fun. I don't know how we pulled that off."

Felix's grin is playful, his silver rings catching the dim light. "What can I say? We make a pretty good fake couple."

You laugh again, stepping out of the car and leaning back in through the open window. "Goodnight, Felix. Thanks for the... whatever that was."

Felix smirks. "It was an unforgettable friends' dinner. You know, one for the history books."

"Goodnight, Lix," you repeat, still grinning as you wave.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, watching you head toward the building.

As you walk to your apartment, you feel lighter than you have in days. Felix always has that effect on you. He makes everything seem easier, less complicated. The night could've been weird and awkward, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed: fun, simple, and completely free of stress. Jisung's matchmaking might've been misguided, but at least it had resulted in a memorable night with one of your closest friends.

You unlock your door and step inside, immediately kicking off your boots with a sigh of relief. Your apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the lively restaurant you just left. It feels good to be home, and you head straight to the kitchen, still feeling the buzz of the wine as you pour yourself another glass. The cool liquid slides down your throat, grounding you after such a surreal evening.

As you set the glass down on the counter, you reach up to take off your sapphire necklace, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. You remove the matching hairpin, carefully setting it down next to the necklace before turning your attention to the silver rings on your fingers. You begin slipping them off one by one, the rhythmic movement soothing after such an eventful night.

But then, there's a knock at your door.

You pause, glancing toward the front door with a furrowed brow. It's late, and you're not expecting anyone. Curiosity piqued, you set down the last of your rings and walk toward the door, glass of wine still in hand.

When you open it, you're greeted by a sight you weren't expecting: Minho, standing in the hallway, his expression unreadable, but there's something intense in his eyes.

"Minho?" you say, your voice a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face, then down to your lips. "Did you kiss him?"

You blink, confused. "What?"

Minho takes a step closer, his voice more insistent. "Did you kiss Felix?"

The question catches you off guard. You feel your heart skip a beat, and suddenly, you're not sure what to say. "No," you answer honestly, "I didn't kiss Felix."

Minho exhales sharply, like he's been holding his breath. "Okay... okay, good."

You raise an eyebrow, still confused by his sudden appearance and his line of questioning. "Minho, what the hell is this about? Why are you asking me about Felix?"

Minho meets your eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Because I still have a chance."

"A chance?" you repeat, feeling even more lost in this conversation. "What are you talking about?"

Minho runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, but not at you—more like at the situation. His voice softens when he speaks again, though there's still that intensity behind it. "I lied."

You tilt your head, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, you lied?"

Minho lets out a frustrated breath, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. "About your article. I said I didn't read it, remember? When we were in the kitchen last night, after the awards thing? I told you I didn't get around to reading it."

You nod slowly, still not sure where this is going. "Yeah...?"

"I lied," Minho says, meeting your gaze again. "I read it the second it was published. I've read it more than once, actually. Like an embarrassing amount of times. I said I hadn't read it because I saw how stressed you were about everything, and we were alone, and I knew if I asked you about it, you'd light up. And I wanted to be the one responsible for that."

You stare at him, the weight of his confession sinking in slowly. Minho, always so cocky and teasing, is suddenly standing in front of you, admitting that he'd lied just to see you happy. The realization hits you harder than you expected.

For a moment, you're at a loss for words. "Minho..."

He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and his voice is quieter now. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. Minho walks into your apartment, the atmosphere between you shifting. He turns to face you, his expression serious, more vulnerable than you've ever seen him.

"I like you," he says, his voice steady. "Like, I really like you. And Jisung knows that. He hates it because he thinks I'm going to break your heart, but I'm not. I swear, I wouldn't do that."

You feel your pulse quicken at his words, your mind racing to catch up. "Minho, I..."

He holds up a hand, cutting you off gently. "You look so fucking beautiful right now, and it's really distracting me. So I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay."

Your breath catches in your throat, but the answer comes easily. "Yeah, that's okay."

Minho doesn't waste any more time. He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's soft at first, tentative, as if he's waiting for some kind of permission. But then you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, and the kiss deepens.

Minho's hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies. The kiss is slow but intense, each movement deliberate, like he's savouring the moment. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his grip tightening slightly as his hands roam over your back.

You break the kiss for just a second, gasping for air, but Minho doesn't let you go far. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he speaks.

Minho's forehead rests gently against yours, and the air between you is thick with tension. Your heart is racing, every nerve on edge, and just when you think the silence will swallow the moment, you feel a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

It's ridiculous, the whole situation. The intensity of the kiss, the way Minho's hands feel so warm and grounding on your waist. You pull back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and give him a mischievous look.

"Oh, by the way," you say, trying to keep a straight face, "Felix and I got engaged."

Minho blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Huh?" He stares at you, confusion clear in his eyes, as if trying to piece together whether you're serious or not.

You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yep," you nod, keeping up the act. "I'm set to marry Felix. So, congratulations, we're now having an affair."

Minho's brow furrows for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. A grin spreads across his lips. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? I'm the dirty little secret now?"

You smirk, feeling a little more daring. "Exactly. I'm cheating on my fiancé with you. How scandalous."

He hums, his thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. "I don't mind being the side guy. Adds some spice, don't you think?" He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Just keep this between us, yeah? Don't want Felix to find out."

The playfulness between you two eases the tension, and you laugh softly, completely forgetting about everything else for a moment. You're about to respond when, out of nowhere, the door to your apartment swings open with a loud bang, making you both freeze.

"No! This is exactly what I was trying to prevent!"

You and Minho quickly step apart, your heart racing for a different reason now. Jisung looks at the two of you with wide, panicked eyes, like he's just walked into his worst nightmare. His hands fly up in the air as he groans dramatically, pacing a few steps.

"This is exactly why I set you up with Felix!" Jisung exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Minho. "I knew this would happen! And now he's got his STD-riddled claws into you!"

Minho's jaw drops in disbelief. "Okay, hold the fuck up," he says, hands raised in defence. "I have no STDs, and I'd really like to clear that up before we go any further with this conversation."

You take a slow, deep breath, pressing your lips together to hold back a laugh. Jisung, however, is far from amused. He looks like he's about to have a full-on breakdown as he turns to you, his face full of concern.

"Listen to me," he says, his voice urgent. "He's going to break your heart! Minho doesn't do relationships—he just flirts and messes around. He's like a... a... heartbreaker! A professional one!"

Minho rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Jisung, clearly fed up. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Jisung, I've liked her this entire time, and you know that!" His voice is sharp, filled with frustration. "You're the one who set her up with Felix, knowing damn well how I feel!"

Jisung glares right back, crossing his arms over his chest like a protective barrier. "I did it because I know you, Minho. You're all charming and smooth when you want something, but then you bail as soon as it gets serious. I'm not letting that happen to Y/N."

You shake your head, walking over to grab your glass of wine from the counter. The tension between Minho and Jisung has been building, and now it's finally spilling over. You sip your wine, deciding that the best course of action is to stay out of it and let them bicker it out.

Minho takes a deep breath, his frustration visible. "You think I'm going to hurt her? Jisung, you've got no idea how hard it's been trying to be patient with this shit. You set her up with Felix like some overprotective dad, and now you walk in here acting like you're the fucking saviour of the day."

Jisung's face turns redder, and he steps forward, eyes blazing. "You're my best friend, and so is Y/N! I've seen what you do to girls, and I'm not letting you do that to her."

Minho doesn't back down, stepping forward as well, the space between them shrinking fast. "You think I'm like that with her? Do you even know how long I've been waiting to make a move, only for you to play matchmaker with Felix?"

Jisung's mouth opens and closes like a fish, clearly lost for words.

You, on the other hand, take another slow sip of your wine. The back-and-forth between them is almost entertaining. They're like two kids fighting over a toy, except this time, you're the toy, which is both ridiculous and hilarious.

"Look," Minho says, his voice a little calmer now but still firm, "I'm not playing around with her. I've been serious about this, and the fact that you think I'm just going to fuck her over pisses me off."

Jisung throws his hands in the air again, clearly exasperated. "Of course I think that! You're Minho! You don't do relationships!"

Minho rubs a hand over his face, clearly trying to stay calm. "God, you're an idiot sometimes. This isn't just some hookup, okay?"

Jisung doesn't seem convinced. "You expect me to believe that? After everything?"

At this point, you've had enough. You walk over to Jisung, wine glass still in hand, and without a word, you pour the rest of the wine into his mouth. He tries to protest, but you give him no choice. He swallows the wine, sputtering slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"Go sit in the living room," you say, pushing him toward the door with more force than you probably should. "We'll deal with you later."

Jisung stumbles into the living room, still flustered and clearly not done with the argument. But before he can say anything else, you shut the door and lock it, effectively trapping him inside.

Minho watches the whole thing unfold with an amused smile. "You know it's going to take him about an hour to realize he can unlock that from the inside, right?"

You shrug, turning back to face him with a grin. "That gives us about an hour of peace."

Minho's smirk widens as he steps forward, his hands sliding around your waist again. He pulls you close, and the heat between you reignites instantly. "There's a lot I can do in an hour," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and teasing.

Your heart skips a beat as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Oh yeah?" you whisper, your voice daring.

He kisses you again, this time with more urgency, and you melt into it, your body pressing against his. His hands slide down to your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off the ground. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he carries you through the apartment.

"Bedroom?" he asks between kisses, his voice low and filled with need.

"Second door," you manage to say, your voice breathless.

Minho kicks open the door to your bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights as he carries you inside. The door swings shut behind you with a satisfying thud, and with that, the world outside ceases to exist.

All that matters now is the heat between you, the feel of his hands on your skin, and the promise of what's to come in the next hour.

Minho kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, and in that moment, you know that an hour is more than enough time.

[ghastlyfilters]

Hi! Saw you were taking Lost Boys requests...

I have a lot of silly concepts or ideas but my favorite is poly!Lost boys with a partner (I usually prefer fem reader but whatever ur comfy with is all good) who loves stealing some of their older clothes. Like, reader is smaller than them so the clothes are really comfy. Especially the older stuff cus decade+ old fabric is so soft.

reader stealing the lost boys’ clothes!!

pairing(s): implied poly!lost boys x fem!reader

warning(s): aside from paul and marko definitely paying attention to your curves, none!!

(now if i was the reader here i know damn WELL i would be stealing their clothes too. each one of their styles is literally perfection and to see that shit on vampires? HELLO? also i may have gotten a bit too carried away with thinking about all their clothing designs.. but thanks for this cute request<3)

gifs not mine! (if you know the original owner please tag them!)

HEADCANONS

• Stealing your boys’ clothes is by far the EASIEST thing anyone could do. The reason being? They quite literally never change out of the fits they’ve had on since 1987.

• The boys don’t have much of a scent, seeing as they’re all undead. So a washing machine doesn’t exist in their little world anymore. Which means they will now forever be outfit repeaters.

More fun for you. 

• All of the boys have the most random shit scattered around the cave. They’re the worst hoarders you have ever encountered. Cough cough.. Paul.. cough cough..

• But the amount of clothes they have laying around is shocking. Boots, band tees, jackets, jeans, leather trousers, gloves, shirts, man you name it. They have it. Every fucking decade.

• The band tees are by far your favourite thing to run around with. Paul has a shit ton of Môtley Crüe tees, and Dwayne has so many shirts with The Doors on them. (Jim’s face is literally everywhere in the cave now. They sure as hell ain’t Christians, so if they’re selling their souls to anyone it’s the horned god below or their icon Jim Morrison.)

• They did let you away with wearing their old band tees until Marko told the boys about EBay.

When Paul found out a vintage Mötley Crüe tour shirt was going for over a grand, the mf was ecstatic..

So much so, he decided to put his own vintage Mötley tees up for bidding.

“Two thousand… three thousand.. FOUR THOUSAND… FIVE THOUSAND FUCKING DOLLARS!!!”

Poor Paul’s bubble was burst however when David told him there was absolutely nothing they could do with the money aside from unlimited Chinese food for the next few months.

• David’s old clothes are much different from what the others have. He was the first to be turned, therefore he’s lived throughout the most eras.

• He’s got a LOT of leather jackets and trenchcoats. Paul and Marko always joke about him being Jack the Ripper, but you see a different side to his style. There’s been many nights you actually sat down with him and asked where he’d gotten the majority of his old items. Some were by Spanish designers that had been gifts from Max whenever he’d provided David with different clothing, others were from when David had fed off multiple store owners and casually picked out what he fancied afterwards.

• It saddens you that he doesn’t wear any of these anymore. The only reminder he ever gets of them is when you put on the soft wool Trenchcoats that go right down to your ankles, almost looking like a cape. Marko makes mini conspiracy theories that maybe you’re the real Dracula.

• Dwayne’s load of clothes is FILLED with leopard print designs. He’s been a 70s boy even all these years later, and he misses that era so dearly.

• There’s this one satin leopard print shirt that actually fits you quite well in his eyes. It’s still a little baggy.. yet oddly attractive to him. You’ve claimed it as your own now, wearing it like a pj set.

• Aside from the satin shirt, literally nothing else Dwayne has fits you. He’s a muscular guy.. and a vampire. So trying to get his baggy ass clothes to even have a slight loose fit is not for the weak 😭

• Marko however, this is where the real fun begins. You can borrow anything from Marko.. ANYTHING.. and it’s guaranteed to fit.

• He was a big crop top collector. When he used to find a good shirt that wasn’t cropped however, he’d cut it up and make it into a crop top himself. And these are what he adores you wearing. They cling nicely to your curved body, and whenever you wear them you can never get both Paul and Marko to stop staring at your breasts. Assholes.

• Marko’s clothes are by far your favourite pieces out all the boys. Much like the crop tops, he really enjoyed designing all his other outfits when he wore them. And he was pretty damn good at it too. Marko can be a crafty little thing when he wants to be. He’ll even help you design your own outfits too! He’ll cut, sew, stitch, glue, draw, paint, anything you want Marko to design, he’s down. He took so much pride in his unique outfits back in the day. And if you want yours spiced up, Marko’s your man.

• You wear his old belts a lot. One time, you were rummaging through the boys’ old stuff again, and immediately fell in love with this black latex belt Marko had. He’d drawn on perfectly shaped skulls with a white acrylic pen, and added different studs around the buckle. Ever since that day, Marko pretty much customises everything you own now.

FIRST TIME WRITING FOR THE LOST BOYS!! hope you all enjoyed these headcanons and my requests are open for any lost boys related ideas you may have!! <33

[mintmatcha]

Kinktober: Monster Fucking

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons

After months of adventuring with your party, you can't help but be curious about a certain dragon born....

cw: cisfem reader, Monster fucking, OC x reader, fantasy racism (someone is not nice to dragonborn), biting, slight mention of bleeding, fingers in holes

PART ONE OF TWO

a/n: A very special thanks to @tyga-lily, who talked with me about her little dragonborn and made me fall in love with this concept and to @saetyrn9 who came up with his name :)

"The bath is free, Obi."

For how much a night costs, the room is nothing special, but any inn with running water is heaven sent. It’s been almost two months since anyone in your party has slept in a proper bed and your body can feel it. Simply wearing the silk of your nightgown feels luxurious at this point; sleeping on down is going to feel obscene.

"I'll be quick." Your party mate stands with a grunt, the day heavy on his joints. You almost want to tease him, but after this adventure, your knees are screaming too. It's hard enough for you to throw yourself on to the bed

Despite knowing him for the greater part of a year, you always forget how large the dragonborn is until he’s next to you. Towering over you with delicate horns and ridged crest, Obsidian Vyke -Obi, to his friends- is all black scales and teeth. The air crackles around him the way it crackles around all sorcerers, subtle yet wild, so it’s unfair that he’s also built wide. Thick biceps and a barrel chest: no magic user should be that muscular.

"Take your time." You watch him as he moves around the room, dipping around the singular bed and pulling his sleeping clothes from his travel sack.

"I'm sorry about this," Obi says, peering over his shoulder, "I know I'm not as nice to room with as Kiri."

The two other members in your party had been fast friends-- unfortunately, they were also quick to become lovers. Usually, that did not pose any issues to the group, but tonight, the inn only has two rooms available. It seemed cruel to separate the lovebirds, so you and Obi agreed to cohabitate for the night.

"I don’t mind sharing a bed with you." The idea gives you butterflies, this flitting, nervous energy. You trust the man with your life-- fuck, he’s saved your life in battle -- but something about sleeping next to him makes your skin goosepimple. "As long as you don't snore."

His eyes narrow in a smile. "I'll try my best."

The dragonborn undoes the lacings of his leather outerwear using the sharpened tips of his claws, delicately catching them under and pulling. The motion is careful and patient, repeated until he can toss the garment into the room's only chair.

It’s not that you don’t want to share a room with him. In fact, you think you want this a little too much. You're absorbed with all of his movements as he primps a bit, adjusting the hem of his shirt so it sits properly, running a palm over his crest, sliding off his traveler's boots. If you're lucky, his shirt will be next and you can catch a peek of the toned spance of his stomach.

"My lady," His teeth flash in the fire light, pearls against the deep, dark opalescent hues of his scales, "You're staring."

"Ah, I'm sorry!" He’s one to talk; you’ve felt his gaze following you for weeks now. That's the only reason you're thinking about him and his body.

And, using that logic, he's the only reason you bought that bodice ripper last week, the one starring a pretty red dragonborn and his human lover--

"Is there something in my teeth?" Obi teases. That earns him a giggle, but, when you don't respond, he exhales through his nose and moves closer. "We're rooming together tonight, so if there's any tension between us, I'd rather-"

"I heard a rumor," you blurt out.

He goes pale. "About me? What did Thyrll tell you?"

"No, about dragonborns in general."

Relief relaxes his features.

"And you just want to know if it's true?" There's a click in his voice as he laughs, something strange and inhumane, "It's okay. You can ask. Let me guess- I eat poor little gnomes? I enchant humans with my-"

"Is it... inside of you?"

The dragonborn pauses at that, eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

"Your..." You cannot believe you're about to say this, "Cock."

"Oh."

You scramble up, hands over your face as you head towards the door. You aren't sure where you're going to go in a nightgown, but anywhere else has to be better than here.

"Oh, I'm sorry! That was so rude of me."

A wall of muscle suddenly blocks your way. Those dexterous hands that you were admiring moments ago are now touching your shoulders, rubbing up and down affectionately.

"It's alright, my lady, I'm just... surprised." He smells like petrichor, something strangely earthy and yet unnatural clinging to his scales, and laughs like summer rain, "I think it's natural to wonder about different races, I just didn't think..."

His sharp eyes are dilated a bit, the pupils closer to almonds than slits as they bounce up and down your body.

"I've had my own... curiosities about others as well," he admits, "So, who am I to judge?"

Your spine prickles at that. Who exactly was he curious about? One of the elves in your party? The barmaid downstairs? Or is it you that the thinks about at night, cock in fist?

The dragonborn misreads the upset look on your face. "I promise that I am not cross with you. How about I answer your questions and you'll answer mine? No judgments."

You settle a bit. "If you're sure."

He smiles a draconic smile, all teeth and the smallest flick of his tongue.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm not embarrassed because my species is a bit different than yours."

You watch him for a long moment. He’s kind. A scoundrel at times, but kind. It's etched into his face, always reflected in his wide, chartreuse eyes.

"So, it is different,” you say carefully.

"It is."

“Very different?”

“When my cock is hard?” He says it so easily. Always proper, it makes you squirm to hear him curse, “No. But when I’m not, it is, in fact inside.”

"It's just... flat down there?"

"Yes- give me your hand."

You weave your fingers in between his without a second thought, but he just shakes his head and pulls away. Then, he takes your still open palm in his and brings it to his torso. The muscle there is just as firmed as you imagined and it's hard not to linger in once spot to appreciate it, Slowly, Obi guides your hand down, running it over the linen of his pants. Underneath, you can feel how it's slightly ridged with larger scales than the rest of his body and, subsequently, larger gaps form in between. It's just skin-- well, it's just scales. You're touching nothing technically intimate, but your heart races anyway, caught in your throat.

"See?" His voice has the edge of a tremble and, when you look up, you realize just how close you two have become. Practically chest to chest, his snout is only inches from your face, close enough that you can see how each individual scale slightly shifts in color as the fire dances. He seems to have realized too; dragonborn expressions are hard to read, but you don't miss how deep his breathing has become.

"It's nothing like touching a human, is it?" he mumbles, hand squeezing yours ever so slightly, “Not intimate at all.”

"Well." You curl your fingers up, clumsily feeling through the fabric, "Maybe a bit.”

The fire crackles in the fireplace. He breathes again, on the brink of a sigh, and you think he’s just as caught up in this as you are.

"Just a bit?" Heat radiates from him. If he were human, it'd be alarming, but instead there's a comfort to it. You're still warm from the bath, and yet you chase that heat, slipping your hand from his just to bring it under the waistline of his pants.

"More than a bit."

He's hot underneath it all, almost uncomfortable to the touch as you explore the space blindly. His eyes haven't left yours, his lids getting heavy with every prod and poke of your fingers.

A vertical line of soft, exposed skin catches your ring finger and his body jumps reflexively as you accidentally dip inside of him. It’s strangely dry, yet much softer than the rest of his scaled body. Despite yourself, you explore it a bit more, pressing in the same way you’ll be playing with your own pussy tonight.

"A-ahh--" The dragonborn sucks in a deep breath and you can feel his abdomen crunch under your touch, "Be careful."

"Did I hurt you?" you ask as you pull away.

His chittering laugh returns. His hands rest on the small of your back, not pushing, but not entirely platonic either. When he talks, the air tastes like distant embers, just far enough away, yet not close enough, "You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry."

“Are you sure?” you press, “You made a weird noise.”

“Very sure,” He dips low enough to press his lips against the shell of your ear, "You’d do the same if I put my fingers inside of you."

This time, the heat is coming from inside you, twisting and pulling with want.

"With your claws?" You manage to joke through your suddenly dry throat, "I might cry."

"I could cut them," His voice is rolling and low as his hands explore, one traveling up your spine and the other dipping the smooth over your ass. When they both reach their zeniths, they switch directions. The silk of your dress catches against his skin, pulling it up and revealing the fat of your ass to the air. "Nice and short."

His nails dig gently into your skin, nothing more than a nip, a test.

"You’re so soft, all over. Your body just gives when I touch it,” There’s a distant tone to his voice as he speaks into the curve of your neck, “Too delicate for me, aren’t you?”

You hum in disagreement and his teeth prove you otherwise. It’s barely a graze, but the nip against your pulse point drags a whimper from deep within you. Your companion chuckles, then coos with pity as he does it again, much, much kinder this time.

“Oh, you’re knock kneed and sweet for me,” The already blossoming bruises are soothed by a warm, textured flash of wet. His tongue is rougher than a humans, longer too, and it leaves behind a string of spit that is more viscous than any human’s. “Like a fawn. My sweet fawn.”

The hand that once explored him is trapped in between your bodies, unable to move, but you can feel something against your stomach: something hard, something thick. Too much cock for your human body, but, fuck, you’re going to try.

“Bet you’re even softer down here.” A singular clawed drags over your bare ass, searching for underwear that isn't there and your body trembles with want, “Oh, look at that, shaking like a leaf. I bet you’d melt if I-”

A sharp knock at the door scrambles you two apart. A moment passes and the sound almost feels imaginary, but then it happens again. You smooth your still wet hair and try to gather yourself, heading to the door in a hurry. Somehow, the dragonborn is more flustered than you. His scales are physically ruffled and his usually stoney brow is creased. He can’t blush, but you swear you can see his face alight as you swing the door open.

There stands a familiar elvish figure, with dark straight hair and the prettiest of smiles.

“Kiri!” you exclaim. She’s a natural beauty, like most elves. All legs and sharp angles, she’s a good head taller than you, leaning over with almost a condescending grin. She’s so beautiful that you almost hate her for it.

“I am sorry to be a bother, rogue.” She speaks in Elvish and the dragonborn’s head tilts slightly side to side, like a dog who hears his name, as he tries to listen. “I came to thank you and the sorcerer.”

“Oh, yeah, no worries,” Your Elvish is unnatural on your human tongue, “We are fine here.”

“My lover thanks you too,” she winks and giggles. She’s over a hundred years older than you, and yet still head over heels like a schoolgirl. Elves might live for thousands of years, but they take hundreds to mature. “We will not be sleeping much tonight.”

You roll your eyes and pretend to gag, biting back a smile, but then Kiri grows serious.

“If he scares you, please let me know,” she continues.

“Obi?” you say, “He’s a sweetheart.”

“I’m sure he is, but those teeth! Like needles. Braver than me, sleeping next to a monster like that.”

You glance at your dragonborn and he looks away before you can meet his eye. A disappointment settles in your stomach. Monster is such an ugly word for a pretty man. Everything about him is charming and refined, from the way he speaks and the way he walks, to the way he shines his scales when he thinks no one is looking.

“That’s rude.” You’re quick to reply. Kiri grew up around only her own kind and their ideas-- she doesn’t always know what’s uncouth or offensive because of it, “Don’t say such awful things.”

“It seems like he’s already gotten hungry.” She jerks a chin to your shoulder. You reflexively reach to cover it, only to pull away when the spot feels wet. Blood speckles your fingers- not enough to warranty any worry, of course, just the slightest graze of the skin.

“That’s not--”

“I tease, I tease!” she continues, “I know it is just a scrape. Can you imagine? To lay with someone who is all claws, fire and untamed magics! I-”

The man in question stalks in between you two silently. With a towel in his arms and a chip on his shoulder, he stomps by with a snort of his nostrils.

“I’m going to bathe.” His Elvish is worse than yours, but it's enough to make Kiri’s face drop. The worst part is that he doesn’t sound angry-- you could deal with anger. Instead, he sounds heartbroken. “I don’t mean to be frightening.”

You both walk him stalk down the hall until he disappears around a corner. Kiri swivels to look at you, bewildered. “Since when does he speak Elvish?”

PART TWO

[shegatsby]

Requests are open!

Hannibal Lecter Fanfictions!

Requests;

 Sweet Serial Killer    Taking Care of You   Shard of Blood  Thanksgiving Dinner

Honesty  Losing Him  Their Secret   Whisper of Evi  Polar Opposites

 Mistletoe  Hannibal x Will Request Oneshot; First Kiss

Anxiety Attack    Audacity    Audacity part 2

Hannibal x Reader x Will; A New Beginning

Hannibal x Reader Request; Chapter One Chapter Two(final)

Hannibal x Will x Reader; Tangled In Between

 Mrs. Lecter    Hannibal x Will x Reader Request; Allergy

Jealous Kiss   Princess   Crisis of Lust   

Oneshot; Hannibal just found out he have the first symptoms of parkinson’s disease, like his hand are beginning to shake and freak out and try everything he could the hide it

 Oneshot;  Hannibal x reader when Mason Verger gets too close to their young daughter and Hannibal immediately goes into protective dad mode and his daughter immediately doesn’t like Mason.

  Oneshot; Reader is Abel Gideon’s daughter & was in medical school but dropped out after the whole “dad killing her entire family” thing. The FBI questions her when they think her dad is the Chesapeake Ripper & she is just shy.

 Oneshot ;  How Hannibal would react to and tend to a S/O who age regresses? Not super young but like regresses to 10 or 12 to destress or cope.

Oneshot; She's his wife and one evening Will randomly shows up at their house, while they're talking Will notices she has a bite mark (or whatever) on her shoulder/neck and Hannibal catches him staring.

  Oneshot; Hannibal comes home and sees that the reader is missing. He thinks she's ran away, she broke up with him but didn't tell him, she's been kidnapped, etc. He searches the whole house and just when's about to give up or start a major freakout, he finds the reader. And it turns out that the reader had just fell off their bed when she was alseep and happened to roll under the bed and stayed alseep.

Onehsot; The reader is innocent and sees the good in everyone, something that attracts Hannibal. But she surprises him when he’s under attack and she just deadass kills the guy hurting Hannibal and her only explanation is “I don’t like the people I love in danger” (bonus points if that’s the first time she tells him she loves him)

Oneshot; Reader is good friends with Will and meets Hannibal but Reader is naturally shy and quiet, Hannibal decides to help her open up with a bit of flirting and rewards her at the end of the night with the long awaited kiss!

Oneshot: Hannibal x reader request where the reader washes Hannibal’s hair and styling it the way he likes it for him after he’s been badly injured and can’t do it himself.

Oneshot: Hannibal x female!avenger!reader part 2? Where it takes place after the snap which 5 years later when everyone that turned to dust already come back and Hannibal come back to search for her.

Oneshot: Hannibal x shy student reader. He is obsessed with her while she has a small crush on him and then he invited her to her house and just cant get enough of her.

Oneshot: Hannibal caught their darling smiling on their phone.

Oneshot: Hannibal x fem(or gn) reader where she gets kidnapped and he finds out and saves her(but she’s injured). Heavy angst to pure fluff!!

Oneshot: Hannibal keeps you all to himself like a Rapunzel situation.

Oneshot: where he is in love with Alana‘s best friend. He met her after she picked up Alana from one of his dinners.

Oneshot: Meeting in an online portal similar to tattle crime where you can chat privately, they start talking and develop like a relationship but for the sake of their identities they keep their real names out of the chat one day you go to therapy and he is your doctor, he calls you by your username, turns out he stalked you the night you met.

Oneshot: Hannibal x Gone Girl type of reader who is running from her past life.

Dangerous Game (Finished) Hannibal x reader

Hannibal X Female Reader

Genre: Romance, Slow burn, SMUT. 

Summary: Y/N Hobbs an opera singer and also the eldest adopted daughter of The Minnesto Shrike, and her entire life changes after what happened. She will be the object of affection of a certain psychopath, whether she likes it or not. 

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5

Chapter 6  Chapter 7 Chapter 8  Chapter 9 Chapter 10    Chapter 11 

Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 (final)

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

could you please write a one-shot, which takes place in the hannibal universe, where the fem!reader has been placed on witness protection under Hannibal‘s care by the FBI. She soon finds out that he is the actual killer they‘ve been searching for, but reacts different than expected…(with nsfw in the end?)

Have nice day/good night

Hannibal X reader: A wolf in sheep's clothing

Warning: smut, body parts, dead people, references to canibalisim oral (m receiving), fingering, penetration ( p in v), mean Hannibal, domish Hannibal, no use of y/n, not proofread.

Word count: 1,6 K

It had been a harmless act. You never expected the consequences it would cause. You stood before it, eyes wide as you realized what you were looking at. Hannibal had given you one rule. Never go into the basement.

If only you had listened to him.

Three months ago you were placed under his care. The Chesapeake Ripper had killed a lot of people close to you and the FBI thought you could be his next victim. So instead of waiting for you to become one of the corpses they would have to examine they decided to place you under eye witness protection. You'd been placed in Hannibal's care, moving into his guest bedroom until the killer was caught. That is if the FBI ever managed to catch him. Each day you grew less convinced you'd ever get your freedom back. This killer was meticulous and to make matters worse Will was almost reaching his breaking point. 

In the beginning you were a bit weary of Hannibal. He seemed far more proper than anyone you'd ever met. You'd join him in the kitchen as he cooked, watching him in silence. The last thing you wanted was to be a bother. It was obvious to Hannibal you were growing interested in him the longer you stayed at his house. One night he finally managed to pull you out of your shell. He assured you that you didn't need to feel like you were stepping on eggshells around him. After a while you became comfortable around him, often finding yourself drawn to his presence. 

The only thing Hannibal had prohibited you from doing was going into the basement. He'd warned you that it was an old house and he didn't want you getting hurt under his care. You'd obeyed his wishes but it was rather difficult to keep your curiosity at bay. So when Hannibal told you he'd been called over to the FBI for an emergency you took your shot. 

You really should have just let it be.

You moved closer to the table, trying to see if your eyes were deceiving you. You took a sharp intake of breath as you realized you had been right. You were staring at a severed leg. A human one. You suddenly felt very faint. You had to get out of here before Hannibal got back. You turned around, immediately realizing it was too late. Hannibal stood before the stares, an eerie light illuminating only half of his face. He stayed quiet simply staring at you.

"Hannibal i-”

“It’s a shame. I really was starting to like you.”

Hannibal moved forward, causing you to take a step back. You bumped into the table. Something fell to the floor with a crash but you didn’t move your eyes off of Hannibal.

“Perhaps I'll eat your heart.”

It should have startled you. The way Hannibal spoke about you like a piece of meat. But it didn’t. A sudden rush went through your body as he stalked over to you, his hand moving to grab onto your chin.

“If you were going to kill me you’d done it already.”

You were surprised you've managed to get the phrase out without stuttering. It seemed so was Hannibal. His grip on your chin slackened a bit. He could smell something seeping from you. He had expected it to be sweat, a cause of your fearful state but it wasn’t what it smelled like. You smelled aroused. Well weren’t you just full of surprises?

“You do realize I killed them.”

“Yes. I know.”

“And you still find yourself getting wet at the mere thought of me.”

You let out a pathetic sound, body sagging more into Hannibals. 

“You let me live. Why?”

“You never did anything to deserve my blade. The same can’t be said for your friends.”

“I broke your rule. I came down here.”

Hannibal hummed, his thumb moving against your cheek. Your pupils had become more dilated as the two of you spoke. Hannibal caught onto it. 

“Not enough to kill you for it.”

“Can’t let me go either.”

“Right again. Don’t know if you’ll blab.”

“I won’t.”

Hannibal considered it for a moment. Something told him you were telling the truth. He knew he shouldn’t risk it. He should just kill you and get it over with. But the way you were looking up at him was making the blood rush down from his brain into well… other regions. He leaned his head down a bit, waiting to see what you’d do. You stared up at him, inching your face closer. He could feel your breath on his lips but he refused to be the one to break. Luckily you had no problem seeming like the weak one. You pushed your lips against Hannibal. Your brain screamed at you to stop but your body wanted to keep going. 

So you did. 

Hannibal released your chin, taking a step back. You let go of the table behind you, moving away from it. Hannibal watched you sink to your knees, his eyes gazing at you as your hands moved to grab his thighs. You moved your hand over his dick, caressing it through the fabric of his pants. Hannibal let you have your fun for a bit, watching you slowly release his dick from its confines. It sprang up, almost slapping you in the face due to your proximity. You gazed up at Hannibal through your lashes.

“Are you ready to prove you can keep your mouth shut?”

You nodded at him eagerly, opening your mouth for him. Hannibal placed his hand on the back of your head, guiding you forward. Your mouth wrapped around his dick, the warmth engulfing him. Hannibal forced the grunt that threatened to spill from his throat down. His grip on your head was rough, his pace relentless. He fucked your face at a brutal pace and you let him. Tears sprang from your eyes as Hannibal continued to bully his dick down your throat, one of your hands moving to rest beneath your body. Hannibal watched you hump against your hand, trying to bring yourself  some release. You moaned as your hand moved against your clothed clit, the vibrations causing Hannibal hips to buck forward. You’d barely registered he was cumming until you felt his seed flood into your mouth. He was oddly quiet when he came, his lips moving into a thin line as his brows furrowed. 

You swallowed his cum before moving off his dick. Your jaw hurt from going at it for so long, and your eyes stung from the tears but you felt as content as ever. Hannibal opened his eyes, looking down at your expectant face. You were waiting for a command. Hannibal couldn;t help but smile. He placed his hand under your chin, pulling you up to your feet. Hannibal turned his head to the side, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. He pulled your face to his, giving you a brief kiss. 

“You did good. You deserve a reward don’t you think?”

You nodded at him enthusiastically. Hannibal's hand moved towards your pants, his fingers toying with your waistband. You whined as he continued to tease you. He enjoyed seeing you squirm against his hand, it reminded him that he was the one in control of this situation. He slipped his fingers into your underwear, gathering up the wetness of your folds before plunging his digits into you.  You gasped, hand moving to grab onto Hannibal's arm. Your nails dug into his skin as he continued to move his hand against you. He was stalling for time of course. As much as he enjoyed seeing you grasping onto his as he brought you pleasure he had other things on his mind. 

You were so close to your orgasm but before you could feel it wash over you Hannibal took his hand away from you. You looked at him in anger, forgetting for a moment you were dealing with a murderer.

“Take your pants off and go over there.”

You did as he commanded, removing your pants before moving to face  one of the walls of the basement. You gasped as Hannibal hand made contact with your back. He trailed a line down your spine until his hand reached your ass. He caressed the flesh for a moment. His body moved closer to yours, heat radiating off it. It was then that you realized he too had stripped himself of his bottoms. 

“Widen your legs.”

You obeyed once again, moving to widen your stance. You placed your hands on the wall, bracing yourself. You felt Hannibal line himself up with your entrance. He entered you with one thrust, the force of it making you press against the wall. Your cheek scraped against the rough wall as Hannibal thrusted into you. You had been so close to cumming it didn’t take long for you to reach your high. Hannibal  continued to fuck into you for a while before his own orgasm washed over him. With a grunt he coated your walls with his seed. As he pulled out you felt some of his cum begin to seep onto your bare thigh. You pushed your head off the wall turning to face Hannibal. He was observing you in silence. 

“Thinking about if you’re going to kill me?”

Hannibal gave you a wolfish smile.

“The moment you sank to your knees I made up my mind.”

He walked over to you his whole body exuding a sort of barely restrained madness.

“You will keep your mouth shut or our deal is off.”

“I promise.”

Hannibal turned to leave the basement but before he got to the stares you called out his name.

“Just promise me something.”

“And what would that be?”

You glanced over at the leg on the table before turning back to Hannibal.

“Don;t feed them to me.”

Hannibal looked at you for a moment before nodding

“As you wish.”

[cottonlemonade]

Haunted House

word count: 883 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Sakusa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

request: watching Nightmare Before Christmas with some caramel popcorn dressed as a witch with Sakusa || fluffy, going to a Haunted House with boyfriend Sakusa

Going to the Halloween Fair was a tradition that no amount of annoyed sighs and fake pleading glances from your boyfriend could derail.

You loved October and marked the occasion in your calendar well in advance.

Under a lot of protest and promises of watching horror movies with him only to pick them apart for their inaccuracies, Sakusa - black mask securely in place - eventually piled into the car with your friends. It wasn‘t as if he didn‘t like them but he liked them a whole lot less when they were loudly singing along to Spooky Scary Skeletons on your way to the fair.

As soon as you made it through the entrance, discussing which you wanted to hit first - the snack stand or seeing if you could persuade Sakusa to rent a couple's costume with you, someone ran towards you and skidded to a halt.

“Y/n! Good that you‘re here! We‘re one person short for the haunted house!“

“Huh!?“ Your eyes widened - during your high school days, you helped out every year with the fair all the way from ticket ripper to face painting. Being a monster in the haunted house was an honor and when you were finally appointed zombie number 4 for the first time, you raced home to call Sakusa with the amazing news.

“I‘m here with someone.“, you frowned apologetically, pulling your boyfriend closer for emphasis. He raised his hand to greet as if necessary.

“Please, we’re desperate! And you don’t have to do it all night. If you could just stall for an hour until the substitute makes it here…”

You met Sakusa’s eyes who tried to read your expression for if you wanted him to play the bad guy and tell you no or if you wanted support. It seemed like the latter.

“One hour isn’t too bad.”, he said in a low tone with a slight shrug, “I’ll just look around what other things we can do and make a list for when you’re done.”

“You sure?”

He nodded.

You got on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and then left with a sad theatrical wave as though taking to the high seas.

Luckily, the costume for your necessary character was very loose to begin with. Playing a classic Japanese ghost, you needed a white flowy dress and a wig of long straight black hair. Minus the wig and unappetizing makeup though, the dress was a lot more fitted on your much chubbier figure. You turned in the dirty mirror in the second corridor of the house, thinking this outfit would definitely not be out of place at a summer garden party, but it was the best you could do under the circumstances. You just had to dial up the creepiness. One by one you made people scream in terror and run panicked to the next room. Proudly, you cleared your throat and went to the break room after half an hour for a quick sip of water - wheezing, screeching, and chasing after guests really took a lot out of a person. As you gulped down the soothingly cold drink you spotted your boyfriend amongst your group of friends, clearly having been dragged to join a round at the haunted house and excitement bubbled in your chest. Sakusa was not easily spooked. The closest to scared you had ever seen him was when he spotted a bug sitting menacingly on your living room coffee table during the summer when the screen door was open.

The most terrifying thing for him about this experience would be getting close to people - you chuckled at the thought and an idea formed in your head. You grabbed a little spray bottle with water from the prop pile on the table and returned to your post.

Most of your friends didn’t recognize you while you made them run for the hills. Your best friend went “hi Y/n”, gave you a high five, and moved on. Before she left she informed you that Sakusa was not far behind.

You pressed yourself with hunched shoulders into the blind spot close to the entering door and waited.

You heard the next guest enter and when he passed you in the half-darkness you identified the black curls and broad tall frame in an instant. The giddiness almost made you dizzy. Sakusa stood still for a moment, most likely letting his eyes adjust before pushing forward. In those precious few seconds, you snuck up behind him and, just like earlier, stood on your tiptoes, bringing your lips close to his ear, spray bottle raised. Channeling all your acting skills you imitated a loud wet sneeze, spritzing a bit of water on his neck at the same time.

If you’d had to guess, you wouldn’t have said that Sakusa’s screams would be this high-pitched. Nor that he jumped so high into the air that he knocked down a plastic spider with his head.

All professionalism left your body and you doubled over, wheezing with laughter. Your boyfriend clutched his chest and breathed heavily on the opposite wall. “Oh you think this is funny?”, he pressed out, making you only snort and cackle even more. “Just you wait!” You yelped in delight as he chased you down the corridor for his revenge.

art: @oknbird on Twitter

a/n: request for @liquidcatt

Thank you so much for the request! This was so much fun to write 🌟 I hope you enjoyed it! 🫶🏻

[skmhlml]

The nightshift abductor x Reader

🪓 He doesn’t just snatch people randomly. Once he noticed you, he obsessively learned your schedule—memorizing when you leave work, which routes you take, and even what snacks you buy from the vending machine. He has an unnatural knack for knowing things about you he shouldn’t.

🪓 The way he moves is eerily quiet, almost like he’s floating. His footsteps are soundless, making him appear out of nowhere.

🪓 When he takes you, it’s impulsive. He may not be smart but he's strong and hefty. He throws your ass in the same cage he would with any other victim with the tv playing.

🪓 Your freedom isn’t taken all at once. He allows small movements and privileges, then abruptly revokes them for minor infractions to keep you on edge.

🪓 if you don't struggle for a few days and eat the mystery meat he gives you get more privileges.

🪓 His preferred method of control is silence. He’ll sit in the room with you for hours, staring, saying nothing. His stillness feels unnatural, almost inhuman.

🪓 His punishments are meticulously designed to prey on your specific fears. Afraid of the dark? He’ll lock you in a pitch-black room for hours. Claustrophobic? He’ll keep you in a tight space, whispering through the walls to remind you he’s still there.

🪓 he purposely breaks a bone or twitst your ankle just so you can't get away and he can take care of you longer, therefor your close and dependent on him.

🪓 He’ll deliberately drag objects across the floor or knock them against walls just to create noise in the otherwise deafening quiet. You can’t tell if it’s accidental or intentional, which only heightens the tension.

🪓 When he stares at you, it’s not just observation—it’s dissection. His unblinking gaze feels more like an autopsy than an interaction, as if he’s mapping your vulnerabilities.

🪓 The worst punishment isn’t physical—it’s when he abandons you in complete isolation for hours or even days. No light, no sound, no hint of his presence. When he eventually returns, you find yourself relieved, even though you hate him for it.

🪓 He has a disturbing fixation on your appearance. Every day, he meticulously brushes your hair or adjusts your clothing, his touch clinical yet invasive. You can’t tell if it’s affection or a way to dehumanize you further.

[scenesniper]

may i request a jack x reader idv smut hcs where jack has a size kink👀

☆ "good child" the ripper ; size kink nsfw headcanons

pairing / "good child" the ripper x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / size dfference, thigh riding, exhibitionism, dacryphilia

word count / 422 words

author's note / i do not support or enjoy the real life figure that this character is based off on.

☆ jack is quite fixated by the size difference between the two of you. it was your small size that had really drew him to you, your meek stature that exudes elegance. it was a fixation that had started something small, but he’ll find himself wandering the streets late at night to catch a possible glance of you, watching from the comforts of the dark.

☆ he can be a gentleman, touching with the most utmost care in the word as if you were to break by any misconduct. other times, a switch simple goes off in him, resulting him to be very unforgiving to you. he’d disregard your pain, no matter caring of your pleasure and only focusing on getting the high end of his.

☆ he’d place you on his thigh, with that small, stoic smirk of his as he’d begin to shake his leg up and down, seeing you get off on him. he’d intentionally lean in your ear to huff out hot air in your ear, just to see your annoyance on him. he loves to cup and knead your boobs to the point it’ll leave noticeable, red marks.

☆ he loves to simply manhandle you, the way your legs would be spread out for him and pinned to your boobs as he admires your anatomy. his gaze unwavering and eyes fixed on how his big cock goes into you, teasing you with every small thrust of his.

☆ in a private, dark alley, the only noises to be heard in that vicinity are your hushed sounds. he’ll be inside of you with what seems to be hours, not moving until you begin to whine out for him to handle it. he loves those tiny, little whimpers of yours. if you’re overly too loud, he’ll shove his finger in your mouth, watching your struggle and your big tears forming. “shh darling, they’ll hear..” his sharp teeth on your ear, pulling it.

☆ the sight of you taking his entire cock in, your struggle and his hands hovering your sides, waiting for your permission to let him help you. he finds it so funny to see a small little thing wanting to contend him and your fight for pleasure.

☆ grazing your skin with his hands of blades, admiring the string of blood dripping down. he’ll mercilessly keep on going and going until he’s been fully pleasured, even if your voice is breaking and your eyes burn from your tears. so tiny and so warm, he’s addicted to you.

[ave09]

Please write for will. I AM DESPERATE

BET! i just wrote something cute and fluffy but if you have any specific scenario (specifically angst bc im in. a mood) send ‘em to my box!

real

will graham x reader

(based on szn 1 bbg will)

one word to describe the day: draining. jack was on your ass the entire day, hounding you about the chesapeake ripper, and it just wouldn’t let up. 

all you wanted was a night of peace, just you, a book, and some wine. and yet, as the peace was finally being restored and you felt calm… there was a knock at the door. 

“great,” you mumbled, rising from your comfy seat on the couch, crossing the room towards the front hall. who would be here at this hour? you unlocked the door, pulling it open slightly, seeing will graham standing there, fidgeting nervously, a bottle of wine in hand. 

you furrowed your brows, “will?” pulling open the door all the way, “what are you doing here?” 

the man cleared his throat, averting eye contact, “well-you-you seemed on edge. with the ripper, jack and everything, and i thought maybe you could use some wine-and company-“ 

you heart warmed at the gesture. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together, working on this case, and doing so, were also getting to know one another better. and she loved it. 

a small smile tugged at your lips as he let out a nervous chuckle, “but now that i’m here, i’m thinking you’d probably want to be alone-so i’m just gonna leave this here and-“

she shook her head slightly. sure. maybe he was right. but if there was anyone she’d want to spend her evening with, it would be will graham. 

“please, you’ve come all this way, come in,” you gestured for him to enter, and he did, “thanks,” he mumbled as he stepped inside, taking charge and closing the door behind him rather then waiting on you to do it yourself. 

will glanced around, taking in your home. he’d only been here once before, and that was when he had offered to help you home after a particularly rough patch in this chesapeake ripper case. 

it was a long day, the scene was beyond disturbing, leaving you frazzled. will had taken it upon himself to drive you home and help you out. you most definitely appreciated the gesture. and in all honesty, that’s probably where your attraction for the man started. 

he was always so sweet. intelligent too. not to mention handsome. 

“here, i’ll take that,” you said, gently taking the wine from his hands, cradling it carefully before gesturing to the living area. 

the two of you walked towards it, you settled into your comfy spot once again, will took a seat in the loveseat across from you. 

you set the new wine bottle on the coffee table beside the open one, sighing softly as you glanced up at him, “so..” small talk did not come easier for either of you. 

“how’ve you been? with this whole shitshow?” you ask. he simply shrugs. “it’s rough. he’s too smart.” 

“he knows precisely what he’s doing and how to get away with it.” 

will nodded, glancing up at you for a moment before clearing his throat again, “ya think maybe we could leave work be for a second? and just… talk?”

you nodded, shifting slightly in your seat, “of course,” you then fell into silence, trying to find something to discuss.

“hey,” 

his voice was soft. fragile. 

he leaned forward slightly, fidgeting with his fingers, “hi,” you replied jokingly, your voice equally as soft.

“am i imagining things?” he asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “imagining what?” 

he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing slightly, “i-i don’t want to be too upfront, but… what’s this about?” he asks, gesturing between you and him. 

“us?”

he nodded. you tilted your head slightly, “what?”

“you don’t see it?” slowly, you sat up taller, somewhat catching on. “listen… i’m not one to do this.. not really.” he’s reluctant with his replies as he continues. 

“i… have feelings for you. and not-not the platonic kind.” 

your heart flutters, breath quickens. was this actually happening? was this real?

“you have.. romantic feelings for me?” you asked, to which he nodded. 

“and-i don’t know if i’m crazy-and this is just somewhat delusional but-“

“i do too.” 

he glanced up at you. “what?”

slowly, you stood, crossing the room towards the loveseat, will slowly rising as well. you now stood before him, a smile tugging on your lips, “i too have romantic feelings for you, will graham.” 

a small smile broke out across his lips, “you mean it?” 

“why would i lie?” 

slowly, he took a step forward, a very small gap between you now. you took the opportunity to lean in, gently brushing your lips against his, testing the waters.

his hand gently found your neck, gently pulling you closer, his lips melting against yours. this was only something that you’d dreamt about, and now it was happening. 

slowly, he pulled away, his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“real?” he asked softly, “this is real?”

“as real as ever.” 

and you leaned in and kissed him once more. 

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Hi for the Halloween event can I please request yandere slasher trio (Zoro , Nami and Luffy please ) where Reader decided to stay with Nami since all their friends are dropping like flies ; turns out Luffy and Zoro have been doing it and Nami is the mastermind of it all please . (I’ve been watching to much scream lately XD ) 

I really love how you make reader interact with this trio in the lucky fic and the one where reader has a crush on Buggy ; honestly fair enough Buggy has got it going on 😔👌

If possible can reader be female please ; if not no worries , gn is fine ❤️

Platonic maybe please ❤️💛🧡

Okay so... remember how I mentioned that I didn't want these fics being too long because I want to get to as many as I can? Yeah... y'all probably aren't going to be surprised that I have immediately failed at that. This story is going to be split into two maybe three parts because it's getting really long and I have accepted that I will not be finishing it tonight.

Also I hope you don't mind, but the rest of the East Blue gang managed to worm their way into this fic, though they won't appear until part two. This part is Romance Dawn Trio centric. Also, I really leaned into the Scream angle, so this takes place in the 90's and everyone is in high school.

East Blue Ripper(s)

Yandere East Blue Gang x Fem Reader

4.5k words

Summary: A night home alone turns spooky when you hear screaming coming from the neighbor's house, but fortunately your friends are there to comfort you.

Warnings: light drug mentions, gendered (female presenting) reader, talk of teenage angst, pretty tame chapter but it gets more intense in the next one so stay with me

“Did you finish the reading assignment?”

The question makes you snort out a laugh. You twirl the phone cord around your finger while kicking your feet up in the air as they’re resting over the back of the couch, “Nope! I’ll skim through the chapters during lunch or something.”

“Aw, come on! I was counting on you being able to sum it up for me!” Nami’s voice crackled through the phone as she whined over your answer, “You’re usually on top of this stuff, how could you fail me like this? You know that I’m busy helping my mom with the orchard, especially with Nojiko being away at college now.”

“Hey, don’t pin that on me! You know that I’ve been stressing over the calculus test, I needed to study for it. Failing that test would be way worse than bombing some reading comprehension quiz for Catcher in the Rye.” Briefly, your eyes glance towards the backpack leaning against the couch. The book is in there, and you contemplate taking it out to at least try to read it, but you shake your head and skim your fingers over the calculus notebook propped up on your lap.

“Hey!”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll forgive you this time, but you’re on thin ice.”

Another voice comes through the phone, slightly muffled from being further away, “Be nice, Nami. It’s not (Y/N)’s fault that you were too lazy to read it yourself.”

You chuckle as Nami starts bickering with her mom. You rest the phone on the couch cushion and decide to refocus on your notes while they argue. You’re a couple of equations in when you hear something. The notebook is tossed aside, and you cover the earpiece of the phone to hear better.

It sounds like screaming.

For a moment, you stay on the couch. Yelling and screaming coming from the house next door was hardly a new thing. Bellamy, an upperclassman who graduated a couple of years ago, rented it with his gaggle of followers. If the rumors were true, it was a trap house, and you had little reason to doubt that based on all the people coming and going from it in rapid succession. It was all shockingly blatant, and it was beyond you how they haven’t been caught yet.

Just when you’re about to go back to studying, you hear more screams. These screams sound different from the usual noise you hear over there. This doesn’t sound like a party or a fight between them breaking out. Whoever just screamed sounded terrified. You set down the phone and toss your notebook aside before rolling off the couch and onto your feet.

Hesitantly, you make your way to a window facing the house and lift up one of the slats of the blinds and peer through. It’s pitch black outside, with only dim lights coming from the neighboring home. You stare harder, but you don’t see anything weird. The strangest thing is that the house seems quieter than usual, but that isn’t exactly enough for you to get worried. You sigh and drop the slat back into place. It was probably nothing. Just some stupid fight between the delinquents you live next to.

You walk back over to the couch and sit on it, properly this time, and pick the phone up to see if Nami and Bellemere are still bickering.

“-llo?! (Y/N)?! If you don’t answer me I’m going to call the police!”

“I’m here! Calm down!”

A loud, exasperated sigh comes through the phone, then the scolding begins, “What is wrong with you?! I was worried when you wouldn’t answer me! I was still holding the phone, you could have at least said that you were going to the bathroom or whatever instead of scaring me like that!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to worry you. I just thought I heard something and had to go check it out.”

There is a pause, then Nami’s dumbfounded voice comes through the phone, “You heard a weird noise and went to investigate? What are you? The first person that dies in a horror movie?”

Your face felt hot at her pointing out how much of a horror movie faux pas you just committed, and you scramble to defend yourself, “It’s not like I went outside! I just peeked through the blinds!”

Nami sighs and you just know that she’s pinching the bridge of her nose. “What did you even hear?”

“I… I could have sworn that I heard screaming coming from next door. Where Bellamy and his cronies live.”

Once again, Nami pauses. You’re about to ask if she heard you when she finally speaks up, “... Did you see anything?”

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t see anyone through the windows, and I haven’t heard anything else since I went to go look.”

“They were probably just fighting about something stupid like usual, or maybe a drug deal went south. Don’t worry about them.” The previous hesitancy in her voice vanished and she was now very quick to dismiss the noises you had heard as nothing, much like you.

“Yeah, you’re probably right…” You heave a sigh and rub your eyes. Perhaps you’ve had a few too many late nights and it’s making you paranoid. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to call it a night here? “It’s been fun chatting with you tonight, but I think I’m going to-”

Another noise came from outside, but not from next door. It’s coming from one of the windows in your living room. Heavy footsteps approached the window, followed by a scraping noise. You’re paralyzed on the couch, all words caught in your throat. This would be a scary experience on its own, but after hearing screaming coming from next door, it was bone-chilling.

“Going to what? Did you cut out on me?” 

Nami’s voice instantly snaps you out of your terror-induced stupor. The phone is clutched tightly in your hands as you whisper yell into the receiver, “Someone is outside my window!”

“What?!” Any nonchalance she had previously was wiped away in an instant as she all but shrieked into the phone.

“I can hear someone trying to open the window! I don’t know what to-” 

The lock on the window clicked open.

Your mind is screaming at you to run, to scream for help, to find a weapon, literally anything but what you’re doing right now. Yet all your body can do is cower on the sofa while gripping the phone for dear life as if it will save you. Tears sting at your eyes and you can distantly register that Nami is shouting something at you, but you’ll be damned if you can understand any of it over the pounding of your heart.

The window is slid open, rattling loudly and catching on the sides repeatedly as it’s pushed up. Glimpses of an arm can be spotted through the billowing sea foam green curtains, but the rest of the intruder is obscured from view.

Both arms come through the curtains and push them aside so that the person can grab both sides of the window to pull themself through. As this person pulls themself through, you can finally see the face of your soon to be attacker and-

“Oh, god damnit! Zoro! You scared the shit out of me!”

Zoro, your classmate and friend, finishes climbing through your window and looks around your home, not once acknowledging you yelling at him. “This isn’t the dojo…”

The adrenaline leaves your system and you slump back against the couch as a wave of relief competes with the burst of irritation you’re feeling. Are you glad that a serial killer didn’t just climb through your window? Yes. Are you still mad that Zoro just scared you like that? Absolutely. You lift your head up to glower at him.

In the time that it took for you to calm your raising heart, Zoro had wandered over from the window to the couch and plopped down next to you. He was entirely unbothered. He looked over at you and nodded his head, “Hey, (Y/N).”

You want to yell at him, or hit him over the head with the phone, but you choose a different tactic. Your voice is cold as you speak, “Nami. Yell at Zoro for me.” With that, you prop up the phone at his ear and stand up, leaving him to the wrath of Nami while you go to the bathroom to refresh yourself after that ordeal.

As a lecture of epic proportions takes place behind you, you can’t help but chuckle at being able to hear Nami even from here. You step into the bathroom and close the door behind you while flicking the lights on. They flicker briefly before shining down on and illuminating the small bathroom. You only need to take one step before you’re face to face with the sink and staring at your own reflection in the mirror. The faucet knob for cold water is twisted, and you quickly splash your face with it and rub at your eye.

The water is turned off, and you return to your full height to look at your reflection again. While you dry your face and fix your hair, your mind drifts to the unexpected guest in your living room. Zoro was a friend of yours, but a very new one. You would be lying if you said that you felt particularly close to him, especially when compared to your lifelong friendship with Nami.

Both of your moms were friends, so you have pretty much been friends since birth. Well, birth for you, adoption for her. She’s been a consistent part of your life for as long as you can remember. There isn’t anyone that you feel closer to than her.

That’s why it hurt so bad when she started pulling away from you a few years ago. You two grew up being thick as thieves, only for her to suddenly stop hanging out with you and barely speak to you at school. It was around the same time when she started working at some shady restaurant that everyone knew was a front. The “restaurant” was run by a man named Arlong, someone with a horrendous reputation thanks to his short temper and the rumors that he was part of a gang.

It was beyond you why she would choose to work there, and it was even more confusing as to why that seemingly meant that you two couldn’t be friends anymore. It was a massive blow to you, especially when any attempt at confronting her on it led to her shutting down and not saying anything, which later escalated into her snapping at you to just leave her the hell alone and to go bother someone else for once in your life… You aren’t proud to admit that those words completely broke you and led to your own flurry of unkind words that you would spend years deeply regretting. It also led to your friendship officially ending.

This was, of course, a very painful point in your life, though you had at least one good thing come out of it. While you were mourning the death of your friendship with Nami, a new one had developed in its place. After the explosive fight with Nami, you accepted that you needed a new table to sit at during lunch. A part of you wanted to hide away in a bathroom stall, but even while in the throes of teenage angst, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat on a toilet. That led you to finding the quietest, most empty table and sitting at it. There was only one other person on it, and she immediately took you sitting with her as a proposition for friendship and surprised you by dragging you to the mall after school to hang out. At the time, you had been annoyed to have your solitude forcibly intruded upon like that, but you quickly realized how nice it felt to finally have someone to spend time with again. 

That friend you made was a girl named Perona. You had only ever seen her in passing before, and while you never had a problem with her, you never went out of your way to get to know her either. She was something of an outcast at the school. Not for any good reason, though the reasons usually never are, she was merely a victim of circumstance. Her father ran the Moria Funeral Home, and that was enough to make everyone else deem her weird and creepy. The labels never seemed to bother her. If anything, she leaned into it. Perona fully embraced the weird girl aesthetic and by all accounts had fun with it. It was a trait that you really came to admire in her as you two grew closer. Perona became a rock for you when you were at your lowest and helped to make you feel like you could move on from Nami and leave all that friend drama in the past.

So imagine your surprise when at the beginning of this school year, Nami approached you to make amends and to “pick up where you left off”. At first, you were rightfully dubious of this abrupt change of heart. You thought that she was fucking with you. That concern was only intensified when you saw that she had a whole entourage of new friends. You thought for sure that she was going to mock and make a fool out of you again for the sake of looking cool in front of them. You had every intention of brushing her off like she had done to you all those years ago.

But, obviously, that isn’t how it went. Not only was Nami persistent, so were all of her new friends. They were all aggressively trying to befriend you and vouch for Nami. Zoro, tonight’s intruder, was by far the most aloof about it. He just kinda… started following you around. It was mostly creepy to begin with, but it did come with the pleasant side effect of all of the school bullies leaving you alone thanks to how intimidating he was.

Sanji��s approach was the polar opposite. You had been aware of him in passing before, and even caught a handful of stray compliments from him on occasion, but now you are pretty sure that he has deluded himself into believing that he’s your boyfriend. The second you come into view, your ears are greeted by him all but screaming “(Y/N), my love!” through the crowded hallway. A more than mortifying experience that had unfortunately become a daily occurrence. At least he made up for it by bringing you admittedly delicious lunches for school.

Usopp had inserted himself into your life as if you had been best friends for years, including by sharing stories of past moments together that literally never happened. He had a reputation for being a liar, and while that was accurate, he’s also a funny and genuinely nice guy now that you’ve gotten to know him. He even helps you out with your homework if you ask. Out of all of the new people introduced to you through Nami’s return, he was probably the one you got along with the best.

And then there was Luffy. He was an interesting character to say the least. Much like Usopp, he was also acting like you two were best friends right off the bat. He’s always slinging an arm around your shoulders and trying to drag you off to whatever adventure he’s concocted that day, or inviting himself over to your house. Sometimes during the day like a normal person, or sometimes he scares the hell out of you by crawling through your window in the middle of the night like some sort of sleep paralysis demon so he can recruit you into whatever late night scheme he came up with.

Perhaps it was a testament to how much you missed Nami, but in the end they managed to get through to you and become people you considered friends. More importantly, they helped to bridge the gap between you and Nami so you two could finally make up and be friends again. Having Nami’s friendship back was all that you had ever wanted in your years apart, and words could not describe the relief that you felt when you could finally put all of that pain and misery behind you.

But, now really wasn’t the time to be dwelling on the past. You still had to deal with Zoro, didn’t you? You slap your cheeks a few times to get yourself back into the present moment, then exit the bathroom. Nami’s voice can no longer be heard echoing down the halls, so you guess she either calmed down, or -more likely- Zoro hung up on her. You step into the living room only to be greeted by a whole other problem grinning at you.

“Hi, (Y/N)!”

There, sitting cross-legged in front of the shelf containing your family’s collection of VHS tapes, was Luffy. He smiled and waved at you, completely carefree and offering zero explanation as to what he’s doing in your house.

“When did you get here?”

Luffy went back to going through the tapes. “A few minutes ago. You left the window open, so I let myself in.” He started humming to himself while pulling out tapes to examine them.

Actually, Zoro left the window open, but you decided not to harp on the details. God knows that Luffy wouldn’t care. The much more important thing to get to the bottom of was why Luffy and Zoro were even here. You glance back at the couch to see that Zoro is still there. He’s sprawled out with his arms crossed behind his head. The landline had been tossed haphazardly onto the side table, and had indeed been hung up. You’re sure that Nami is going to have a word or two to say about that in person when she sees Zoro at school tomorrow.

“Okay, why are you two here at,” you look up at the clock on the wall, “almost 11 at night?”

Luffy was quick to pipe up with an answer, “We were walking back home after hanging out with Usopp.” 

That made no sense, and you quickly point that out, “He lives on the other side of town. How the hell did you end up over here?”

“Zoro said he knew a shortcut, so I let him lead the way. That was pretty dumb of me, huh?” Luffy chuckled after his explanation, which evolved into full on laughter when Zoro threw a pillow at him from across the room.

While you were still annoyed, you had to admit that his story made sense. Zoro could get lost in a paper bag, so it isn’t at all shocking that he could have wandered over to your place while trying to get back to the kendo dojo he lived out of. 

“It’s cool if we crash here for the night, right? I don’t want Zoro getting us even more lost.”

The question surprised you. Shocked you even. While you’ve had them over to hang out before, typically with everyone else, the only people you’ve ever had stay overnight were Nami and Perona for obvious reasons, ones that you’re quick to voice, “No way! My mom will freak out if she finds out that I let boys spend the night!”

Luffy pouts at your answer, but it’s Zoro who speaks up this time, “Her shift doesn’t end until 8, right? We’ll already be at school by the time she gets home. She’ll have no way of knowing that we were ever here.”

What Zoro said was true. Your mom worked overnight shifts as an ER nurse at the local hospital. She probably won’t know so long as you all clean up and neither of them leave any evidence behind. Still… it feels risky, and you really don’t want to risk pissing off your mom by surprising her with two unexpected guests if she comes home early for whatever reason.

Sensing your unease at the idea, Luffy springs up and hurries over to you. He takes both of your hands into his own and stares into your eyes with a pleading gaze. “Come on, please! We’ve never gotten to have a sleepover before! It’ll be fun! We can watch a movie or something! Please!” Luffy is begging you as if you’re Sanji and he’s trying to get more Baratie leftovers. 

You don’t really want to say yes… but you know that Luffy isn’t the kind of person to take no for an answer. This would probably be fine. Your mom basically never came home early. You should be able to keep them having been here a secret. You take a deep breath, then relent, “Fine. You guys can spend the night.”

Before you can even blink, Luffy is scooping you up into a hug. Your feet are lifted off the ground as he spins you around and cheers victoriously. You’re dropped back onto your feet, and Luffy wastes absolutely no time before sprinting over to the shelf to grab a movie to watch. 

“Hey, wait. It’s really late. Shouldn’t we just go to sleep now?” Your protest was weak, and you could practically hear the answer before Luffy even said it.

“I thought you’ve had sleepovers before. You know that you aren’t supposed to sleep at sleepovers!” Luffy pulled a VHS case off the shelf and hurried over to the TV to put it in. It would seem that his mind was made up. Looks like you’re having an impromptu movie night. Luffy turned on the VHS player and cracked open the case. As he pushes the tape into the player, he looks over his shoulder at you with another one of his infectious smiles, “Do you have any popcorn?”

“Yeah… I’ll go make some.” With a sigh, you straighten up and wander into the kitchen to get started on the popcorn. Sock clad feet pad across the linoleum floor as you make your way to the pantry to grab a stovetop popcorn pan. Typically, you would only make one of these if Nami or Perona was over, or if you and your mom were having a movie night on one of her rare nights home, but it wasn’t unheard of for you to knock back one of these on your own. It shouldn’t raise any suspicion from your mom when she comes back home in the morning.

The pan is dropped onto the front right burner and you grab the temperature control knob, turning on the gas, then quickly igniting it into a controlled fire to heat the popcorn. From here, you can faintly hear the distinct sound of the tape being rewound. Ah, yeah, you and your mom do have a tendency to forget to do that when the movie is over. 

You can’t help but wonder which movie Luffy picked out. He was partial to action movies. Stuff like Jurassic Park, the Terminator movies, Star Wars, that kind of thing. Though with it being October, he was on a bit of a horror movie kick. Last week, you guys watched both Predator movies and made it through the first two Alien movies while hanging out at Usopp’s place. None of you were particularly big fans of the third one, so Usopp didn’t even bother renting it from Blockbuster. 

Popping kernels snap you out of your pondering and you glance down to see the aluminum top rapidly expanding. You quickly start shaking the pan to help circulate the kernels to keep them from heating unevenly and burning. Before long, the popping subsides and you know that the popcorn is ready. You cut the gas and move the pan to another burner, then crouch down to dig the large popcorn bowl out from its place in the cabinet. 

As soon as the popcorn is dumped in, you pick up the bowl to bring it to the living room and find the lights already off and the movie playing. Luffy and Zoro are seated on either side of the couch, leaving only the space between them open. You sit down, and your ass has barely hit the cushion before Luffy is grabbing a fistful of popcorn.

You look up at the screen, and it takes you a minute to clock which movie is playing. A man is getting into a car in a snow covered setting and speeding down the road. Realization dawns on you as the driver begins losing control of the car.

“Is this Misery?”

Luffy nods enthusiastically, “I heard Nami talking about it. She said it was really good!” He turns his head away from the screen to look at you properly. “Why? Do you not like it?”

“I like it well enough, I’m just not sure you will. I think you’ll find it a bit boring compared to what you usually watch, that’s all.” You quickly toss some popcorn into your mouth, eyes flicking back to the screen as the door to famed writer Paul Sheldon’s car is pried open by his obsessed fan, Annie Wilkes. The first time you watched this movie was when you were spending the night at Perona’s house. She was something of a horror movie buff and would watch them year round. Naturally, your friendship with her meant partaking in her interest. You’d seen a handful before, but she really got you into the genre and would bring you with her to the theater every time there was a new one.

Your reminiscing is cut short by Luffy. “But it’s a horror movie. How can it be boring?”

“I mean, it’s not boring boring, it’s just more of a psychological thriller rather than the gorey action horror movies you tend to gravitate towards.” You eat another handful of popcorn and spare a glance at Zoro, only to find that he has already fallen asleep. Whatever. You’re sure that Luffy will happily eat Zoro’s share of popcorn and most of yours.

“If it’s a thriller, it has to be fun, right?” Luffy throws his legs over your lap and you have to act fast to lift the popcorn bowl and prevent it from getting spilled everywhere. You move it to rest in the gap between yours and Luffy’s laps since it’s just going to be you two eating it.

“I guess so. Maybe I’m wrong and you’ll like it.” You sink further into the back of the couch, eyes already feeling heavy. It’s pretty unlikely that you’ll make it through the entire movie, and knowing Luffy, he will probably get bored and be out not long after you.

While you may have gone into this forced hangout a little annoyed by the whole situation, all in all, this wasn’t a terrible way to spend the night. If it weren’t for these two showing up, you likely would have spent the night being paranoid about the screaming you thought you heard earlier that was now little more than a distant memory.

You felt safe. You could trust them. There is absolutely nothing to fear.

[starsinmylatte]

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚘𝚐

Here is my submission for @kentopedia's wonderful Love Through the Ages collab!

➻ Summary: Trapped in the gilded cage of Victorian high society, you were determined to rebel. You ran the streets in disguise at night and threw yourself into your work as a typist for Scotland Yard during the day, rejecting the label of “quiet, submissive woman.”  Further rebuffing the ideals of your time, you scoffed at the idea of love and marriage, but a certain blonde Detective Inspector always seemed to make your heart flutter. You’re assigned to work a case under him, and your feelings only grow more complicated… but will your budding romance be able to survive one of history’s most infamous murderers?

➻ Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!Reader

➻ Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI)

➻ Word Count: 8.2k

➻ Warnings: Explicit sexual content and Discussions of the Jack the Ripper case/thematic elements related to the case/time period (rape, poverty, etc.)

➻ Song recommendations (in order):

Toxic- From “Promising Young Woman” Soundtrack performed by Anthony Willis  Les feuilles mortes- Jean-Michael Blais The Swan- Camille Saint-Saëns

➻ Author's note: I did a ton of research to make sure I had my details correct, so there are tons of easter eggs hidden in the fic. I had a lot of fun with this one!

Join my taglist here!

Colors flew through the air as you tossed various skirts, bodices, and any other accessories unfortunate enough to catch your ire clear across the room. They hit your quilted bedsheets with an audible thunk as Misato shook her head at your antics, tsking at you from the corner. 

“Love, you’ll be late if you carry on like that. Wipe that scowl off and pick one already.” 

You shot the maid another half-hearted frown, looking as grim as a young woman clad in only her chemise, garters, and stockings could. Misato strode over with matronly confidence, snatching the next garment out of your hands before it could grace the top of the pile. She held the bodice up, inspecting it in the clear morning light before giving a brisk nod. 

“Right then, this will do. It’s posh enough to keep your father happy without all those extra frills and ruffles you hate. Grab that skirt, and let’s get on with it.” 

You did as you were told, albeit extremely unenthusiastically. Misato hummed soothingly, draping the familiar weight of a corset around your waist. This was a dance you knew the steps of all too well. You fastened the busk up quickly before bending down to grasp at the foot of the bed, adjusting your decollete into the supporting garment. Misato tightened the laces systematically, just as she had done for every year you’d been old enough to dress as a woman. 

Standing back up, you moved your body around, wincing and rolling your shoulders as you reacclimated to the squeeze of the steel boning. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, dropping your head in apology at the sight of her soft frown. “I know I’m bull-headed, and I know it only causes trouble for you.” 

With a gentle sigh, the maid slipped a muslin camisole over your head before moving to fasten a bustle around your waist. “I understand, love. But you’re a woman of society, and you’re to dress as such. Now, bear you in mind, I’d rather die than see you in trousers like the men, but I think there’s a middle ground to be found yet.”

You smiled at her, grateful for the affection, “I know, but I’m still glad to hear it.” 

“Who knows… Maybe you’ll finally attract a husband who’ll let you run as wild as you’d like.” The older woman teased you, pinching your cheek affectionately as she slipped several layers of skirt over your head. Her loving prodding pulled an imperceptible flush across your cheeks, and you distracted yourself with the buttons of your bodice. “Lord knows some of those peelers can’t be too horrible to look at.” 

“Love,” you scoffed, choosing to ignore the way your mind immediately wandered to a certain stoic, blonde detective, “is for little girls who still believe in fairy tales.”  

You continued on, selecting a hat from a drawer. “I work because I want to do something important… something beyond embroidery and gossiping at garden parties. There are people out there who need help, Misato.”

The maid laughed softly, pinning your hat at a perfect, jaunty angle. “I’ve known that since you stood at the height of my knee, but I can still hope to see you happy.” 

You bade Misato goodbye with a quick kiss on the cheek, finally venturing out from your family’s warm, comfortable house to wait by the road for your carriage. An icy breeze brushed past as soon as you stepped outside, ruffling through your skirts and causing you to shiver. As you waited patiently, the damp air slowly seeped under your multiple layers of clothing; the strangely oppressive chill only took a few moments to carve beneath your skin like an icy dagger. 

Normally, little birds would flitter throughout the small yards alongside the street, filling your morning commute with their cheerful racket, but there was only silence today. Your only companions were the ever-present fog and smoke that blanketed the city, but today, they seemed so much thicker than usual, making the overcast sky feel even more bleak. 

Thick tendrils of gloom trailed over the cobblestones, swallowing the flickering gas lights one by one. There were no people on your street this early, no signs of life to be seen anywhere. Another shiver shot down your spine, but this time, it had nothing to do with the cold. The world was grey and eerily silent as the fog finally reached you, blanketing your entire body with frigid mist. The downy hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end; everything felt off… like an ill omen.  

A moment later, the clacking of hooves on the cobblestone echoed throughout the street, and a familiar carriage finally appeared in the gloom. You barely waited for it to come to a stop before you opened the door and climbed in, not caring to observe the proper etiquette. 

“Cold, miss? It’s a chilly mornin’ innit?” The driver chuckled, shouting loudly as he snapped the reins, urging the horses to return to their steady gait. “Don’t worry; we’ll get you back inside soon enough.” 

“Ah, yes… It is a bit chilly.” You smiled and brushed your actions off with a laugh, but the feeling of dread still weighed heavily on your heart. 

Even the horses seemed restless, rolling their eyes and tossing their well-groomed manes back and forth as they plodded eastward. You were grateful to finally see some sense of normalcy as you reached Victoria Street, where people of all ages milled around, setting up their businesses both on and off the street. Shops opened their doors, and street vendors set out their wares, squabbling loudly over placement and price. You smiled wryly as a young boy snatched a steaming pie from the corner of a table, eyes shining with delight as he shoved the greasy pastry into his mouth. He disappeared into the teeming crowd with the shopkeep still blissfully unaware of the theft.

The sight was as endearing as it was heart-wrenching; the cute little boy probably stole out of sheer necessity. If he hadn’t stolen the pie, there was a good chance he wouldn’t have eaten at all today, even in this area of the city. You suddenly felt guilty that you had the privilege of being able to turn down breakfast. 

“So much needs to change,” you murmured, drumming your gloved fingers against the lacquered side of the carriage. Most of the people from the upper crust simply wanted to hide the poor away; their attitude was just to keep them out of sight and out of mind.

Your thoughts continued as you looked off into the alleyways and then glanced eastward to where the worst parts of London were concealed. If your family had their way, you’d have never known those parts of the city existed; you’d have been kept on a pedestal in the opulent West End. To them, all you needed was decorative knowledge meant to accent your pretty face and attract a rich husband, but no one had counted on your tenacity. You had been too intelligent, too fierce of a little girl, always demanding answers from your tutors, rejecting their half-baked excuses about the world and how it worked. 

 Before long, you figured out that not all people grew up similarly. You fished stories out of maids and butlers, learning about how other people suffered in the cruel workhouses and filthy alleyways hidden in the background of the city you loved. But the most appalling thing by far was how little your parents and their wealthy friends seemed to care.  

When you turned ten, you convinced Misato to help you sneak out for the first time, mainly by threatening to go even if she refused to be your accomplice, and from that night on, you began exploring the real London. When your parents thought you were safely locked away in your room practicing embroidery, you were actually exploring the streets wearing ragged clothes “borrowed” from the nearest bin. It was dangerous and wholly irresponsible for a lady like yourself, and if anyone found out, your reputation and life would be ruined forever…. So, of course, you loved it.

“It’s no wonder I ended up here, in the last place a ‘lady’ should ever be.” You murmured, smiling as the carriage finally jolted to a stop outside the stately, brick-and-stone building at 4 Whitehall Place. The driver opened your door with practiced ease, and you entered Scotland Yard’s world of cops and criminals. 

“Odd, there’s so few people here…” You murmured, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as you walked in and reached your desk. 

Typically, the station was filled with men waiting on their orders for the day or waiting to go on patrol. The few men who were present milled about restlessly, and most wore the trademark blue peeler uniform. However, two men were notably different; they were dressed in everyday clothes and stood off to the side of the Chief Inspector’s office. If you didn’t know better, you could’ve guessed they were gentlemen who simply wandered in off the streets. 

“I haven’t seen those two before. They must be detectives.” You pieced together, noting the tension that hung heavily around them. 

The two men were certainly young to be detectives, but one seemed more experienced and slightly calmer than his counterpart. They each wore black frock coats and trousers, but from there, the appearance differed. The composed man had kind eyes and tawny, disheveled hair covered with a bowler hat, whereas his friend sported a red vest, fluffy hair, and no hat. He looked younger and full of nervous energy; for some reason, his hair seemed oddly…. pink?

You sighed, chalking it up to a trick of the light as you set up your desk for the day. In a valiant attempt to neutralize your own nervous energy, you began to clean your typewriter, stealing glances at the young detectives, trying to parse together what was going on from snippets of their conversation. 

“Do you really think- how long will it take?” 

“I don’t know, just wait and see.” 

Suddenly, two more men you did recognize walked into the room without fanfare. Chief Inspector Yaga led a tall, serious-looking blonde man over to the others, and your heart fell through your chest at the expression on his face. Not many of the detectives treated you well, but in all the time you’d worked there, Detective Inspector Nanami Kento had never failed to greet you with a small smile and a polite greeting every morning at the bare minimum. 

This morning, however, his expression could have cut through stone. The stoic man’s lips were set into a cold, hard line, and he didn’t even notice your presence. His dark eyes glittered in intense concentration, and the two young men snapped to attention as soon as he approached them.

Something has happened. Those aren’t the eyes of the gentleman I know… that’s the gaze of a detective entirely focused on his case.

Scotland Yard and its detectives were no strangers to tragedy and brutal events. They carried the weight of investigating the most unspeakable acts people could inflict on each other, but you had never seen DI Nanami look quite this grim. You watched the four men talk quietly for what seemed like ages before they finally walked over to your desk. Chief Inspector Yaga looked you up and down with a critical gaze as if to size you up. 

“How can I help you this morning, sir?” You met his eyes calmly, the feeling of dread rising, squeezing your heart once again. 

“You’ve been with us for almost two years now, correct?” His gruff voice rumbled through you like thunder promising an oncoming storm. 

“That’s correct, sir.” 

“And you’ve never had any-” He paused, gesturing around as if searching for the correct word, “trouble with the cases up until now?” 

Nanami’s chiseled jaw clenched as the Chief Inspector questioned you. He seemed to be looking just past your face, staring at a spot on the wall in a manner that seemed as though he was willing it to spontaneously catch fire. You didn’t try to hide the way your brow furrowed in concern at the question.

“Trouble, sir?” 

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Deep, dark bruises were blooming under the man’s eyes; it looked as if he had gotten little-to-no sleep for weeks. “I know you’ve certainly heard… more than a few disturbing things in your time here. The paperwork you tend to has details of crimes, and you’re around the men every day….  God knows they don’t know when to hold their tongues.” 

You nodded along, still confused and growing exponentially more concerned. His words were true; you’d certainly heard more than your share of gory details from the policemen as they returned from their patrols, whether it was just accidentally overheard or they told you directly as if it would impress you. 

“Well… It is never enjoyable, but I deal with it in the same way the men do, sir.” You pointed out deftly, unwilling to seem fragile. 

Nanami remained grimly silent, but a small smile played across the corner of his lips as Yaga watched you closely. After a moment of silence, the burly DCI sighed again. “Then there’s a job for you. I am about to ask more of you than I would like to, but you’ve excelled at your current position, and this situation calls for related skills.”

For the briefest moment, you could’ve sworn that you saw Nanami’s fist clench at his side. Still, the stoic man stayed silent as Yaga continued on, “You’ll be working under DI Nanami, and your main responsibility will be to organize and keep a running record of the evidence as it comes in. You’re to help them keep track of any papers they need to revisit during their investigation. Other duties will be assigned as needed.”

Yaga nodded stiffly and walked back to his office, shutting the door firmly as if to signal the finality of his decision. You looked up at Nanami with concern, as the man had barely moved since he arrived at your desk; he still looked silently furious. “Are you… do I need to do anything right now?” 

His mood seemed to shift to calm in an instant. “No, nothing right now. I’ll have a file to give you as soon as I return, but I do need to introduce the case to you so that you’re not blindsided when you… see it.” 

Nanami motioned for the two young detectives to step forward, “First, this is DC Itadori, and this is DS Ino. They will also be working under me for this case; if you have any issues and I’m unavailable, you can go to them.” 

The two young men tilted their heads in polite acknowledgment as they were introduced, each giving you a small smile, almost like the one Nanami usually reserved for you.

Ino spoke first, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Even under these circumstances.” 

Itadori nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! It isn’t often we get to work with a-”

“And I think it’s time for us to go secure transportation to the scene. You’ll have to excuse us.” Ino butted in quickly, placing a firm hand on Itadori’s shoulder and hauling the young man away, blatantly ignoring his noises of protest. 

You turned back to the Detective Inspector, whose expression was unreadable as he sighed, “He means well. Please forgive him.” 

A small, reassuring smile touched your lips as you gazed up at Nanami, “I’m not offended, Detective. I’m no shrinking violet and a bit of levity won’t go amiss every now and then.” 

Your small quip made the blonde man chuckle lowly despite the situation. “I’m well aware. But this case….” His expression shifted once again. “I don’t like involving you in it.” 

Hurt shot through you, stabbing through your heart with a dull ache. You had worked alongside him for two years, and he’d never seemed like the other men who constantly doubted your abilities for the supposed sin of being born a woman. You liked this man; you had trusted him.

“Do you really not think I can be of help?” You frowned as indignation seared through your veins.

You must’ve looked truly hurt because Nanami shook his head. “It has nothing to do with ability. You should know that I hold your abilities in high regard, but…” he said softly, “this case- it’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, and you should never have to see things like this. No one should.” 

Your firey attitude froze instantly, turning to shame as you realized his true intent. “Forgive me, I’m used to….” 

A flush crept across your cheeks as you took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and regaining your professionalism.

Why is it so easy for me to make a fool out of myself in front of you? 

“ I understand,” he murmured, studying the typewriter in front of you with a strange intensity. “You may as well come into my office and have some tea.”

–

It took you no time at all to understand exactly why everyone seemed on edge and why the Detective Inspector was so affected by the case. You had read files of violence, murder, and rape before, but what Nanami had to sit down and tell you was beyond all of that. There was a monster, some sick freak brutalizing and murdering women throughout the streets of Whitechapel. He toyed with and desecrated their bodies, and all evidence suggested that he had acted multiple times and was going to continue unless he was caught or killed. This wasn’t some random act of criminal violence or murder of passion committed by a jilted lover…. this was something only the devil himself could be capable of.

The warmth of the teacup against your hands brought you some comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink any of the tea. Your stomach roiled violently; you were suddenly immensely glad you’d skipped breakfast as Nanami softly explained what had happened to the women and the events that led to Yaga deciding that you’d join his team. 

“They found another body this morning,” he spoke plainly, but his deep brown eyes roamed over your face, his expression full of gentle concern. “Worse than the last, even.”

You glanced at the thick file in front of you, your stomach lurching as your eyes landed on the sketch of the previous victim. If it was only growing worse… God, you couldn’t even imagine…. The room suddenly felt too hot, your corset too constricting as you leaned forward, fighting the bile that rose in your throat. 

Nanami was by your side instantly, his large hand warm and soothing on your back as he knelt beside you with surprising grace. “If you don’t want to do this…. I understand. I swear I do. Just say the word, and I’ll have you home.”

It took a brief moment, but you swallowed thickly and straightened up, your eyes glittering in determination as you gazed down at the kneeling man. “No. I can’t- I won’t- sit idly by, knowing I had a chance to help, even if it’s just in a small way.” 

An entire moment passed as the two of you stared into each other’s eyes. Nanami rested his hand on yours for a brief moment, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel your brain short-circuit. You were much closer to a bachelor than society would deem appropriate, but the desire to uphold proper values wilted against your need for comfort. 

The moment was over quickly, and the Detective stood, brushing dirt off his tan pants. “It’s time for me to head out to the crime scene. I’d like you to use my office while I’m gone.” 

Nanami gave you an achingly soft smile, the exact smile you had craved before he tugged his coat on, slid his unique, round glasses into place, and left the room. 

–

Weeks turned into months, but the monster who called himself Jack the Ripper still hunted the women of Whitechapel. It didn’t take long for the press to run with the story, drawing more attention to Jack than his victims. An endless flow of letters and tips began to pour in every day, and the monster had even penned a few himself, mocking the police for not being able to catch him yet. 

You spent every day working beside Nanami, who insisted you move into his office, claiming you could work more comfortably there. The attraction you felt towards the stoic detective grew as you spent more time with him, sharing the intimate workspace. He was always so busy and stressed beyond measure, but he was unfailingly kind and considerate of you. In return, you went above and beyond your assigned duties to care for him. You ensured that Nanami ate as regularly as possible, brewed him tea when he was having a particularly hard day, and provided him companionship. 

You had always known that Nanami was intensely intelligent and focused, but he truly gave all of himself to this case. Unfortunately, the Ripper seemed to be a shade able to pass through walls for all the helpful clues he left behind. You watched, feeling utterly helpless, as the pile of bodies grew and the dark circles under Nanami’s eyes deepened. Despite putting on a brave face, he seemed frustrated and permanently exhausted; if you had to guess, he even slept at his desk some nights. 

As the case progressed and even more women were killed, Nanami made it a point to make sure you were safe, even though you lived on the opposite end of London from where the murders occurred. You reassured him that you’d be fine, but he still gifted you a small firearm, a Derringer, that you kept tucked in your handbag every single day as both a good luck charm and a deterrent. The detective also insisted on escorting you home at night, and on the rare nights he was unavailable, he sent Ino or Itadori in his stead. 

However, most nights, you only waited inside for an hour or two before sneaking back to the streets. You were convinced the people who frequented the bustling pubs and taverns of Whitechapel had to have more information. Many people weren’t keen on sharing any information with the police, but you knew they’d talk amongst themselves and certainly to a pretty girl at the bar. You knew it wasn’t smart, but you were determined to help in every way possible; too many women were living in fear. However, a small part of you did know that you were also desperately trying to ease Nanami’s burden. 

Even though you were determined, you still felt incredibly guilty about the situation. It would undoubtedly drive Nanami mad with worry if he knew what you were up to, but you promised yourself that it was safe enough, that you’d always sneak back home before nightfall. You had even planned only to visit pubs on Whitechapel Road itself, knowing that proximity to the main road made your outings safer. Weeks passed as your covert outings continued without a hitch, but one night, everything changed. You had been far too distracted by the bartender you were conversing with, and before you realized it, the sun had fully set. You might’ve been right on the main road, but you were alone in Whitechapel after dark, where the monster was certainly lurking in the shadows.

Every bump in the night made your heart seize in fear as you started down the street, desperately heading back toward safety. You managed to make a decent headway, but the sound of a familiar voice stopped you dead in your tracks. Nervously, you glanced around to find DC Itadori at the building right in front of you, blissfully unaware of your presence as the young man chatted with a passerby.

You knew that the proper thing to do would be to approach him for help, to admit that you had made a mistake, but you couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that whispered, “You know he’d tell Nanami, right?”  

Telling DC Itadori would be bad enough, but the thought of his mentor being disappointed in you or even hurt by your actions made your heart lurch. 

“It’ll be just a quick detour,” you promised yourself as you turned and headed down the closest alleyway.

Your journey was fine for the first few minutes, but it didn’t take long for you to garner unwanted attention. Your dress lacked the finery you usually wore, but it was still the dress of a respectable woman, and this dark alley was no place for any woman. Drunken men leered at you from every shadow, trying to coax you closer. You ducked and weaved your way out of their clumsy attempts to grab you, but you were forced to run down alley after alley to avoid them. The familiar weight of the Derringer that you’d tucked into your garter was the only comfort you had as you fled deeper and deeper into the heart of Whitechapel. An icy chill crept down your spine as you grew painfully aware that you’d gotten lost in the maze of alleyways. 

Thick, oppressive fog curled throughout the already cramped alley as you hurriedly turned the next corner, only to hit a dead end. Your blood ran cold, and tears of exhaustion and fear ran down your face as you glanced around, desperately trying to figure out where you were, but it was useless. The fog was too dense, and you were too lost. Two sets of footsteps were still following you. You could hear them approaching faster and faster,  and you shrank back into the corner in fear, reaching under your skirts for the cool metal of the pistol as a last resort-

Suddenly, you heard the sounds of a brief scuffle around the corner, followed by the sickening crunch of a nose shattering. A man yelled out in pain; you could hear him sprinting back down the alley as another voice rang out into the night, “Miss, are you alright?” 

You could’ve wept at the achingly familiar, husky tone as your Detective Inspector appeared out of the gloom, lantern in hand. 

“I seem to have made a mistake,” You managed weakly.

Nanami froze instantly at the sound of your voice. He raised the lantern to illuminate your tear-stained face, and a look of sheer horror broke over his handsome features. You crumpled against the wall, and the Detective Inspector rushed forward to support your body, his strong arms cradling you with breathtaking gentleness. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked quickly as his gaze scanned you over systematically, desperately searching your body for any sign of injury. 

“No, just cold, afraid….. and more than a little ashamed. Thank you for saving me.” You admitted meekly, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth. 

Nanami groaned audibly in relief, tipping his head back as if thanking god. His arms tightened around you slowly as he embraced you, holding you against his broad chest while you shook with latent fear. You flushed furiously as you reciprocated his embrace, drawing enough comfort from his presence for your heartbeat to calm. 

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice low and soothing. “let’s get you somewhere safe, and then you can tell me why you’re out here.” 

“I can’t go home. It’s too late; I won’t be able to get back in until morning when my maid returns. Perhaps I should rent a room here for the night? No one will know me this far out. I do have some money.” You rambled, trying to keep from crying even more.  

Nanami sighed, stepping back slightly to look into your eyes. “I’m not leaving you out here alone. It won’t be ‘proper,’ but I’d like to take you somewhere where I know you’ll be safe.” 

You felt a pulse of clarity flow through you, and you placed a hand on his muscular forearm, gently squeezing it in reassurance. “I trust you.” 

The detective’s warm, brown gaze softened as he saw the honesty written across your face.

“One more question, then. Do you think you’re up to walking? I could carry you, but that may draw more unwanted attention.” 

You shifted on your feet, testing them out. “I think I’ll be alright.” 

Nanami smiled down at you before deftly unfastening his tan, woolen greatcoat. He draped it over your shoulders with heartbreaking gentleness, ignoring your mild noises of protest as he secured it around you. 

“It’s cold tonight,” was all he said as he offered you his arm.

You held onto him tightly, instantly comforted by his solid frame and the quiet strength Nanami carried himself with, even in a tense situation like this. You had never been more terrified only moments ago, but now you felt safe and protected, almost warm despite the cold air around you. 

“Thank you…. It is quite comforting.” You murmured.

Nanami smiled down at you briefly before guiding you through the maze of alleyways, letting you dictate the pace. Funnily enough, the fog seemed to dissipate as the two of you walked down the streets of London together. You could see the stars twinkling above you, and if you didn’t know better, the two of you could’ve been a couple out on a nighttime stroll together. 

Time passed quickly as you walked together in comfortable silence, and soon, you arrived at a comfortable-looking townhouse near Bedford Square. Nanami unlocked the door without any preamble, ushering you inside out of the cold. He led you up the stairs into a tastefully furnished drawing room with a beautiful bay window that overlooked a moonlit garden.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he encouraged, leading you towards a plush settee. Nanami busied himself with lighting the ornate fireplace as you curled up against the arm of the furnishing, still wrapped up in his coat. You snuggled against the soft wool, surreptitiously enjoying how it smelled of his fresh, woody cologne undercut with the deeper scent you could only describe as his. 

As soon as Nanami finished tending to the fire, he began to pace around the room in a manner you knew meant that he was thinking deeply about something. 

“What is it?” You asked softly, almost afraid of the answer. 

He took a deep breath and stopped pacing, turning to look at you. Nanami’s expression held no anger as the firelight flickered across his face, but a profound sadness filled his beautiful brown eyes as he spoke, “I don’t think you understand what it would’ve done to me if you were the next body found.” 

You dropped your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as Nanami continued his pacing, “When I realized it was you in the alley, I- I thought the absolute worst had happened.” 

He ran his hands through his hair, pacing even more frantic as he tousled the normally neat blonde strands. “You must know by now…. You have to know…”

Nanami turned to you once again, dropping his arms to his side in defeat. “I love you.” He rasped, voice raw with emotion. “I’ve known for months. I didn’t think I could court you properly until I caught this bastard, so I didn’t say anything. You don’t deserve to be associated with me if I fail, but after tonight, I just can’t take it anymore. I understand if you say no, if you need a better man, but-” 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In the blink of an eye, you flung yourself across the room and into his arms. Nanami caught you in surprise, scarcely able to believe he wasn’t dreaming as you clutched desperately at his sides. Uncontrollable tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you gazed at him in unabashed adoration.

“I love you too,” you confessed, “ I don’t think a better man exists.” 

That was all the encouragement he needed. Nanami smiled lovingly, softly as he leaned down to press a slow, feather-light kiss against your forehead. You sighed in bliss, and the detective breathed deeply as if he hadn’t had fresh air in months. Months of stress and fear melted away from both your bodies, the negative emotions paling in comparison to the warmth of your love. Nanami ghosted more kisses across your cheeks and nose, taking his time to savor every inch of your beautiful skin before finally pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss was soft and sweet. Your eyelashes fluttered shut, and you acted purely on instinct, leaning further into his embrace. One of Nanami’s strong, steady hands moved to cup your waist, holding you like precious china as your lips parted from the chaste kiss. As you shared another intimate breath, his other hand slid under your chin, tilting you forward to capture your lips again. 

“Marry me.” He mouthed against you, voice rough with emotion. “Let me protect you, love you, worship you. I want to hold you in my arms, to keep you by my side until I die.” 

“Yes,” you nearly pleaded, clawing at the material of his blue vest in an attempt to somehow pull him closer. “Kento, please…. I’m yours.”

He groaned desperately at the intimacy of his first name on your lips as his hand moved from your waist to wrap around your back possessively. Nanami trailed his other hand to cup your jaw as he kissed you even more passionately, almost devouring you whole. You had kissed before, but it was only mild, adolescent flirtations with boys you didn’t bother to remember; it was nothing like this. This kiss was searing, threatening to burn you from the inside out if you stopped for even a second. Your chest lay flush against Nanami’s, your body moving against his in a way that made his trousers grow uncomfortably tight. 

Nanami realized instantly and broke the embrace, stepping back to hide the way his cock strained against the fabric. The desirous look in your eyes and your attempt to follow him nearly shattered his resolve completely, but he touched your shoulder gently. 

“It will get increasingly hard for me to remain the gentleman you deserve if we continue.” He warned breathily, a light dusting of pink gracing his cheekbones. “If you need, I can go stand outside until morning.” 

A whimper left your kiss-swollen lips. Your body ached in a way you’d never felt, craving the sweet burn of his touch in places you’d rarely explored yourself. The world felt hazy and syrupy as you tried to regain your mind, but it was a futile task. Your breasts felt heavy, your nipples sensitive as they rubbed against the fabric of your chemise. 

“That’s not what I need,” you pleaded, and Nanami shuddered. 

“Can you tell me what you do need?” He murmured, taking a tiny step towards you. 

“Kento, I-I’ve never done this before,” you stammer, blushing furiously and shrinking back in embarrassment. 

Immediately, Nanami is at your side, holding you tightly once again. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I wouldn’t love you less either way. All it means is that we’re on equal footing here.” 

He pulled you into another hug, intent on soothing you further as your mind spun. 

“You’ve never….?” You questioned softly. 

“No,” Nanami murmured, “I haven’t been with anyone.” 

“That does make me feel better,” you admitted, biting the swell of your lower lip. “What I’m feeling right now is new…. strange, even. I want you to touch me so badly that it hurts.”

Nanami groaned again, pulling you against his broad chest; he could easily feel your heart racing, and he wasn’t faring much better. 

“Do you want me to touch you now, or do you want me to wait?” He asked, voice deadly calm. 

“I think I’ll die if you wait,” you pleaded, pawing against his vest again. 

He chuckled roughly, grasping your wrist and pulling it to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kissed the tender skin of your pulse point, savoring the way your pulse raced under his touch. Without further preamble, Nanami reached down for your skirts, slowly drawing the fabric up past the soft leather of your garters. He reached down, tracing up your thigh with his fingers until they caught the cool metal of the Derringer, which you had completely forgotten about. 

Nanami tugged it free as he kissed you once again. He smiled into the embrace, pulling you with him as he stepped over to set the small gun on a nearby table. You glanced at him in astonishment, unsure how he had known. As soon as the firearm was safely put away, he scooped you up into his arms with another soft laugh, “Darling, what kind of detective would I be if I didn’t know?” 

You smiled up at him, “I suppose you do have a point, darling.” 

He sighed in bliss as you turned the affectionate nickname against him. You traced your hands up Nanami’s broad chest greedily, slipping them over his shoulders for support as you leaned in for yet another desperate kiss, unable to sate your desire for his lips. He somehow managed to walk and return the kiss at the same time, only stumbling slightly as he brought you into another room. 

You giggled against him, and he smiled, devouring the sweet sounds and eager to hear more. Nanami leaned down, setting you gently on his large bed. He pulled back to gaze at you in utter adoration, loosening his golden cravat and undoing the buttons of his blue brocade vest. He discarded them both, leaning forward to cage you between his arms as you drank in the sight unashamedly. 

“You know it isn’t proper for me to see you in just your shirtsleeves yet,” you teased, snaking your hands up his arms and growing bold enough to nip at his bottom lip. 

“I don’t think anything that we are about to do is too ‘proper,’” Nanami smiled affectionately as he circled his hands around your corseted waist, pulling you forward to sit at the edge of the bed. He unfastened your boots, caressing your stocking-covered feet gently as he set your shoes to the side. Afterward, his hands returned to your waist, meeting in the middle to trace over the small buttons of your green bodice. 

“May I?” He implored, voice low and breathy with anticipation. 

You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Please.”

Nanami’s deft fingers began to undo button after button, exposing the other layers of clothing underneath as he went. You’d chosen to forego wearing a camisole, as none of your outerwear was fine enough to need protecting, so he was immediately met with the sight of your corset and the lip of your chemise beneath. The silken chemise you favored was thin enough to be nearly transparent, and Nanami’s breath hitched at the sight of your pebbled nipples peeking over the top of your corset. 

He knelt slightly, enraptured by the sight of your breasts rising and falling with every breath you took. Nanami stared at you ravenously as his breathing grew heavier. You blushed prettily, shrugging the bodice off as the once-stoic detective’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hands dug into the fabric of his duvet as he fought the urge to caress and kiss every part of your body. 

“I want to explore every part of you with my hands and tongue,” he confessed with a groan. “I can’t hold myself back much further, but promise that you’ll stop me immediately if I make you uncomfortable.” 

You noticed the pupils of his brown eyes were blown wide and dark with lust as he looked at you, fully enraptured but waiting for your response. His expression forced an involuntary whimper to tumble from your lips, and the heat in your core spiked once again. 

“I promise, but please… I didn’t think I could feel something like this.” You begged sweetly, guiding his large, warm hand to rest on the swell of your breasts.

He caressed the area gently, watching your face as his clever fingers explored your soft curves. You sighed in delight as he squeezed and traced the barely-covered skin, prompting him to investigate further. His fingertips grazed your nipple, and your back arched instantly, mouth parting in a perfect “O” at the waves of pleasure that shot through you. Nanami’s gaze grew half-lidded and hazy; he squeezed the small bud in response, and you outright moaned as your core clenched in need. 

“Feels good?” He purred, utterly shameless in wanting to learn your pleasure. 

You nodded vigorously, unable to speak, as you pulled his other hand to your back. He knelt on the floor, pulling you to stand over him as he reached around to unfasten your skirts and small bustle. They dropped to the floor, and he leaned forward to pepper kisses across your stomach and the tops of your thighs. You couldn’t feel his lips directly for the corset and chemise still in the way, but you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. The intimacy of him kneeling before you, kissing your body so hungrily, made you throb with need once more. Acting on pure instinct once again, you began to rub your thighs together, desperate to relieve the ache.

He reached for the strings of your corset, successfully untying the knot. Nanami felt around for a moment before leaning back to look the silk and leather garment up and down. The detective chuckled lowly, “Would you mind helping me, darling? This is the first I’ve dealt with a corset, and I’m afraid it’s not as straightforward as the other layers.” 

You gazed down at him in adoration, guiding his arms to grasp different parts of the lacing. 

“Pull here…. and here.” You murmured, and the corset loosened under your combined ministrations, finally becoming loose enough for you to unfasten the busk. 

Nanami watched breathlessly as it fell. He grasped the hem of your chemise, the final major barrier separating him from your soft skin, and rose from his kneeling position to pull it over your head. Finally, you stood before him fully topless, and he shuddered in desire as he removed your drawers. 

He picked you up again, setting you back on the bed to work on the layers of his clothing. You whined in protest, wanting to undress him as he had explored you, but he simply shushed you, only speeding up his movements as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Darling, I promise you that we will have ample time for you to undress me later…. but right now, I need you, or I’m going to fully lose my mind.” 

Nanami was barely able to choke out the words as he threw his shirt aside, granting you a beautiful view of his muscular chest and the smattering of honey-blonde hair that covered it. His arms were just as well-built, and you bit your lip once again, squirming on top of his sheets as you watched him. Nanami hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trousers, drawing your attention to a patch of coarser blonde hair that trailed down his lower stomach, hinting at what you’d see next. 

You felt hot, fully and shamelessly filled with lust as you stared at the outline of his thick cock tenting the fabric. Nanami groaned as he saw your reaction, palming his erection as he started towards you, only clad in his trousers. 

“Lay back for me, darling,” he cooed, guiding you onto the mattress. It dipped beneath his weight as he joined you, running his fingers over your leather garters. He pulled them down with his teeth, pressing kisses to the bare skin that forced a litany of moans and pleas from your lips as he rid you of your stockings. Dimly, you realized the space between your thighs was sticky with your own arousal. Nanami realized a split second after you, trailing his fingers up to your core after disposing of the garters and stockings. 

“You’re beautiful, gorgeous…. Perfect.” His deep voice rumbled against your ear as he traced his finger through your folds. You shivered and moaned in response, your legs falling open even further, begging for him to explore more. He slid up on the bed next to you, leaning down to kiss your bare, sensitive breasts as he toyed with your soaked cunt.

Nanami carried on like that for a few minutes, noting that you grew the most desperate as he circled the small pearl of flesh at the top of your sex. He caressed it, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that his ministrations made you beg for more and whimper his name. Tension coiled in your stomach as he gently circled the puffy bud and kissed you passionately, relishing the taste of his name on your lips. It didn’t take long for that tension to snap in your stomach like an elastic band, and your back arched off the bed as you came hard. 

He growled praises into your ear, teasing his fingers into you as your cunt spasmed around nothing. “My future wife… a goddess.” 

Your eyelashes fluttered shut in a moment of discomfort that soon gave way to the blissful feeling of being filled. There was no pain as the other women had complained of; your world was a haze of syrupy bliss as your lover prepared you with his fingers, gently stretching your velvet walls. 

Nanami rutted his hips against the bed, delaying his own pleasure until you were ready for him to truly fill you. The two of you moaned and sighed, almost in sync. 

“You’re so soft and wet,” he cursed under his breath. “I won’t last much longer… Do you think you’re ready?” 

You leaned up to kiss him passionately, mouthing your desperate assent against his lips. Nanami unbuttoned his trousers, unclothing his lower half in record time as you lay back against the sheets, eyes fully glazed over with lust. He spread your legs, slotting his hips between them, and you felt the swollen tip of his cock kiss your needy sex as he positioned himself properly. The two of you were panting, moaning together like animals in heat as he pushed in slowly, desperately trying not to hurt you. You cried out at the stretch, digging your nails into his back, the pain pulling another guttural moan from your lover. Any discomfort quickly turned to blinding pleasure as he sank into you fully.

Nanami paused arduously, his cock twitching, desperately begging for him to move. 

“Tell me… when.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth, his expression almost a grimace as he fought the urge to thrust into you. 

The warmth and pressure of his body, the feeling of being stuffed full, the feeling of his cock twitching inside you… It was all too much. Your fingers scrabbled at his back, desperate for purchase, as you whined, high-pitched and needy in response. “Now, please- oh, God. Need you now.”

Nanami groaned as he began to move his hips slowly, dragging his thick cock along your velvet walls. He began to move slightly faster as you writhed beneath him, your mind too sex-addled to form a coherent thought or sentence as his swollen balls slapped against you. 

Your future husband fucked you slowly but thoroughly, filling the room with the salacious sounds of your lovemaking. A familiar tension began to build in your core, and Nanami groaned as your walls squeezed his cock. Unlike earlier, there was almost no warning as you shot straight over the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, and you cried out desperately.

Nanami growled and cursed against your neck as your cunt milked his cock, desperately begging to be filled. 

“So close. Need… need to pull out.” He rasped, almost whining as he left the plush warmth of your sex. You watched him in a lust-filled daze, melting against his sheets as Nanami leaned back, furiously stroking his cock. He grunted and moaned shamelessly, hips still shallowly thrusting against his hand as he desperately sought bliss. His head tipped back as he panted; you could see a beautiful, rosy flush color his chest and neck, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it. 

Nanami’s thrusts started to falter from their original pace, and you watched, wholly enraptured, as his brows furrowed and his perfect mouth fell open. He came a moment later with a hoarse cry; thick ropes of his seed coated his hands and stomach in spurts. He stroked his cock a few more times, fully milking out his orgasm before collapsing on the bed by your side. You both lay there in silence for a few blissful moments, basking in the warmth and security of each other’s arms.

“I love you,” you whispered, breaking the silence with a smile. 

“I love you too, my darling future wife,” Nanami murmured back, entwining his hand with yours.

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