#and you are standing up for the people close to you they hurt and they are getting angry at the person you stood up for

[sunsburns]

this came to me in a dream last night but imagine bsf!vi spying on you and your date (fem!reader, hints of caitvi x reader)

clearly, violet isn’t the jealous type, there wasn’t much that she was usually up against anyway. she was just… looking out for you—it was hard to trust some random date you met on an app or through some mutual friend.

“you don’t trust anyone, vi,” you said, smoothing the last stray pieces of hair in the mirror. vi stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like she had nothing better to do, her arms crossed over her chest.

“i trust people,” she shot back. her tone was defensive like you’d accused her of something worse. “i do!”

“right,” you replied, your smile a little too knowing for her liking.

your phone buzzed on the counter, and vi’s gaze flickered to the screen. here, it read. she watched as your expression shifted—nerves and excitement mixed together in a way she didn’t see often.

“they’re outside,” you said, glancing at her. vi didn’t budge, just gave a small nod like she wasn’t planning to leave her spot anytime soon.

“have fun,” she said after a beat,

you grabbed your jacket and stepped past her, pausing just long enough to catch her eye. “don’t wait up.”

vi smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “sure. i’ve got better things to do than babysit your bad decisions.”

and by better things, she meant standing there, riling herself up for no reason. vi lingered in the doorway long after you left, her arms now loosely hanging at her sides. she could picture it too clearly: you sitting at some café, that soft, nervous smile you got when you weren’t sure what to say, your fingers brushing over the edge of your cup, looking as good as you always did. only this time, that smile wasn’t for her. it was for some fucking stranger.

her jaw tightened as the thought settled in. what kind of person even asks you out like this? who were they to deserve your attention, your time? vi didn’t even know their name, let alone what they looked like, but the image of some faceless jerk talking too much, maybe trying to impress you with something lame, was enough to make her roll her eyes.

she wasn’t jealous. she wasn’t.

jealousy was messy, and vi didn’t do messy. she wasn’t the type to get all worked up over something that wasn’t her business. this wasn’t her business. except—what if this person turned out to be trouble? what if they hurt you?

shit, what if you liked them?

“sounds like jealousy to me,” caitlyn’s voice chimed through her phone’s speaker a few minutes later.

vi’s jaw tightened as she paced the room, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the window. hooded sweatshirt, messy hair, no real plan—she looked like someone gearing up for trouble. “shut up, it’s not.”

“uh-huh,” caitlyn said, entirely unconvinced.

vi exhaled heavily, tugging her hood up like it might smother the heat creeping up her neck. “i just… wish i knew what was going on. that’s all.” her voice was quieter this time, almost an admission.

she hated not knowing. not knowing who this person was, what they wanted with you, what you were saying to them right now. were you laughing? leaning in close?

“you just gotta chill,” caitlyn said, her tone softening slightly. “you’ll hear all about it when the date’s over, i’m sure. you’re overthinking this.”

“i have an idea,” vi said suddenly, the words spilling out before she’d fully thought them through.

“oh no.”

a slow, mischievous grin pulled at vi’s lips, and her pacing stopped. her fingers flexed at her side as a plan began to form. it wasn’t smart. it wasn’t subtle. it was terrible. “how quickly can you come over?”

“vi, whatever you’re thinking—”

“just get here.”

——

“i can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this,” caitlyn muttered, her voice low and filled with annoyance as she tugged the brim of her cap down further over her face. the fabric shadowed her sharp eyes, which were darting toward the café window like she was already second-guessing her decision to come.

“you love this,” vi said casually, fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

“no, vi, i really don’t,” caitlyn shot back, her words pointed but softened by a resigned sigh.

as they approached the café entrance, vi glanced inside, her eyes instantly locking onto you. there you were, seated across from somone who smiled at you. vi hated them already.

caitlyn slipped into a barstool near the window, unfolding a newspaper she’d grabbed from the stand out front. her face was completely hidden behind the thin pages. vi, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as subtle.

her hood was yanked low over her face, and the sunglasses perched on her nose were oversized and crooked, like she’d grabbed them in a hurry. vi hovered awkwardly by the counter, pretending to study the menu even though her eyes kept flicking over to you.

“you’re staring,” caitlyn hissed from behind the paper.

“am not,” vi muttered back, but she didn’t look away.

you were laughing now, that light, effortless kind of laugh that vi rarely saw unless she was the one making you smile. her chest tightened as she watched you tilt your head toward your date, your expression so open, so trusting.

“they’re not even funny,” vi grumbled, narrowing her eyes at your date.

“oh, please,” caitlyn whispered harshly, her exasperation cutting through vi’s muttering. “you’re acting ridiculous. do you even have a plan?”

“i’m working on it,” vi mumbled, finally tearing her eyes away to stare at the drink options on the board. she wasn’t working on anything. she just knew she had to be here—close enough to hear the cadence of your voice.

your date said something else, and you laughed again, this time louder, brighter. vi’s fists curled at her sides as her gut twisted uncomfortably.

“this is a terrible idea,” caitlyn said, sighing heavily as she lowered the paper just enough to glance at vi. “you’re a disaster.”

“shut up,” vi shot back under her breath. but deep down, she knew caitlyn was right.

disaster or not, she wasn’t leaving until your date was over.

[blooperpossum]

I know for a fact I would over endlessly through the surrounding fog. First I would be out late at night, but early enough to get a hotdog from the street seller as his last customer of the night. I stand under the street light as the fog first settles in… and then I hear it

“Hello, welcome. Why don't you take a seat? Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to. Now what's bothering you? Well, why don't we start at the beginning?”

I look around frantically trying to find the source of the whispering. But I didn’t need to. Once I sealed that first bite of my hotdog it was like my feet started moving in their own.

“ Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence? Did you have xenon orchid sinews spilling down the outer center of your blooming Escher/Mandelbrot head”

I started fumbling my way to an alleyway that I’ve passed multiple times to this hotdog stand but never had the nerve to walk through. I hesitate at its entrance (I still have the hot dog btw, gripping it tightly in my hand.)

“And how about claustrophilic tendrils clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckled thumbs, did you get along well with the Gideon Bugler pineal glands, your projector eyes casting sci-fi's on your STR'd strands?”

The voice questions to me, or maybe at me? Maybe it doesn’t want a response at all. But it’s definitely drawing me in. I’m still gazing into this long dark alley way, the wind picks up its cold. It’s like cold daggers on my face. It’s a warning not to keep going. It’s no use, I have a terrible habit of doing the exact opposite of what I’m being told. I must keep going. I have to. The voice. The voice is calling for me to.

“Tell me about your nerve to steal nerves of steel from under Bacchus' bloody nose. Did Namibian Himbas tie-dye you, your ears pierced with a Phineas Gage flagpole, did you die before your day?”

I unstick my feet from the pavement. I need to see the voice. I need to ask them if they’re a siren, do sirens even walk on the ground? I don’t know but they should since I am so compelled to find them. As I am getting closer to the voice, I decide I can no longer eat so I toss my hot dog on the ground. (I will regret this decision later)

“hursday traction, Tuesday titration. My hope is to assess through my objective report of your subjective conjecture whether this proprietary blend of expertise and seasoning works as well as this transorbital ice pick”

I am almost face to face to the voice. They’re a tall shadow figure, much taller than I would have thought. (At least 6’2) their aura is menacing. I freeze in place.

“Holistic ballistics, got a better idea? It's about the best we could come up with. What, you think ideas spread because they're good? No, they spread because people like them.”

They step close to me. I cannot back away. I’m frozen in place. I’m entranced to look in their eyes. All I can think about is what they’re going to say next. I want to interrupt their dialogue but my voice gets stuck in my throat. It hurts, and all I can taste is that damn hot dog.

“So here we are once again. Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror”

The voice becomes the loudest it’s ever been. The figure lunges at me. They have a knife. They stab me. I cannot fight back, I am still entranced by their voice. I am frozen. They stab me again. I fall to the ground. I’m grabbing at the wound with the knife. The figure leans down, it gets real close and whispers into my ear..

“I guess it's just something people do”

They pull the knife out of my side. They step over me and out of the alley way. I feel my self going cold as I watch the figure walk away. I see on the ground by their feet that hot dog I abandoned. Now I’m really upset. I should have finished that hotdog if I knew it was going to be the last meal I had. I look into the sky as I can still hear that voice in the distance. This time they’re singing.

“A bloody knife to split your infrastructure, wine to rev your motor function”

Then it fades to black…

You could literallly lure a will wood fan to their death by whisperinng the blackboxwarrior monologue from out of a creepy dark alleyway

[alexvolleyball]

🧸ྀི A man! 🧸ྀི

What lads men doing for you?

characters: Sylus; Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel.

a/n: English is not my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Requests are open!!!

It's New Year's Eve in four days. I would love for you to decorate my Christmas tree!

warnings: Mentioning clubs, drunk people, clingy men, kids, not highly toxic jokes.

Sylus:

• He won’t let you feel uncomfortable.

• Is the club music too loud? Sylus will throw out the DJ to lower the volume.

• Is the company unpleasant? He will wrap his arm around your shoulders and lead you away.

• Is some guy staring at you strangely? Sylus will take care of him without hesitation.

• Today was another visit to the club. You didn’t give Sylus a heads-up, and now you regret it. You’ve had too much to drink and are struggling to walk. It feels like you might break your ankles in these heels. Leaning against the wall of a tall building, you touched your hot face with an equally warm hand. Your eyes struggled to make sense of the figures around you.

• “Hey, gorgeous! Need some help?” a strange male voice called out. The stranger stood too close, his hands already reaching for your shoulders when suddenly, black and red threads wrapped around him and lifted him away.

• “Keep your filthy hands to yourself.” Oh, that voice—you could recognize it anywhere. Your man arrived just in time, as always. You heard the man's screams, the crack of bones, and Sylus’s heavy footsteps. “Here I am saving you again, kitten.”

• “Sylus?” You swayed and fell right into his arms. “I missed you so much!” To be honest, Sylus likes it when you’re drunk because you become quite clingy. “These stupid heels hurt! Can I take them off?”

• He supported you with one hand while the other removed his shoes. Then he crouched down and placed you on his knee. Sylus began to take off your heels and slipped on his shoes instead. “Is this better?” he asked, gently standing while holding your heels.

• “Oh! So comfortable!” You clapped your hands joyfully, and in response, he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead.

Xavier:

• He always walks ahead of you, shielding you with his broad back.

• As one of the top Hunters, Xavier takes on the most perilous missions. When you join him on assignments, he turns into a protective hen. “Hold on. I’ll check it out.” Or “Shh, there’s someone over there. I’ll handle it; you stay put.” Or “Don’t interfere; I’ve got this.” At first, it stung, making you feel like a burden. But that couldn’t be further from the truth! Xavier just wants to keep you safe and sound.

• His worry for you even led him to argue with his superiors. When they refused to make any changes (Xavier believes you should get easier tasks), he got angrier than ever before.

• It seems that Hunter has everything under wraps, but when it comes to his beloved, he just can’t keep his emotions at bay.

• He protects you even during casual strolls. Xavier is always alert, ready to take on any threat just so you’re okay.

• When unfamiliar guys approach, he draws you in closer and shoots them a cold glare. With that displeased look, he wards off anyone who dares to come near. “Wow, you’ve really got a jealous streak!” you chuckle, watching him shoo away yet another suitor.

• “Jealous?”

• “Well, it’s when you think that someone you care about might go off with someone else. You’re deeply attached, and you feel a pang when someone tries to steal your partner. Something like that.” You smile awkwardly, realizing how silly it sounds.

• “Yeah, probably.” Xavier’s words hit home. “I’d protect you from anyone in this world.” He gently brushed your cheek and pulled you closer. “Especially from men who have their eyes on my treasure.” His soft lips brushed against yours. Through that tender kiss, he tries to convey what he can’t say aloud.

Zayne:

• This doctor won’t let you lift anything heavy.

• Heading to the store? He’ll tag along to haul all those bulky bags for you.

• Want to move the couch to make the room look nicer? Better step aside. Zayne will handle it all.

• Right now, you’re secretly trying to drag heavy boxes filled with useless junk up to the attic without your husband knowing. But you miscalculated the distance from the wall and crashed into it, sending the boxes tumbling. The racket alerted your husband, and he surveyed the scene with a disapproving look. “Why didn’t you call for me?” First, he helped you up, then you both gathered everything that tumbled out of the boxes back inside. After a heavy sigh, he stacked the boxes and lifted them effortlessly. Once everything was stowed away in the attic, Zayne came back down to you. “So, why didn’t you tell me?”

• “You were busy working, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

• “And that’s why you thought it was a good idea to do this on your own? Y/N, you’re my woman. You shouldn’t be doing all the heavy lifting when I’m around.” He pulled you into his chilly embrace, but the warmth of your body soon turned it cozy. “You could’ve hurt your back or worse.” Zayne pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

• “Sorry for worrying you.”

• “It's all good,” he sighed. “But don’t let it happen again. The mother of my future children needs to stay healthy.” He smiled and ruffled your hair.

• “Mother of your future children?”

• “You thought you could get away from me? Not a chance. I want to build a family with you. I want kids, and only with you.” Zayne's words made you blush. Despite his serious nature, he loves to playfully tease you just to see the flustered look on your face.

Rafayel:

• He always opens doors for you and pulls out your chair like a true gentleman.

• This man is far too glamorous and sophisticated for this world.

• Today, like usual, he decided to take you to the most upscale restaurant. You’ve realized time and again that in his suit, Rafayel is just too hot to handle.

• He loves it when your outfits match; it shows everyone around that you’re a genuine, loving couple.

• As he opened the car door, he waved his hand gallantly, inviting you to hop in. You laughed, lifted the hem of your dress, and slipped into the car.

• Once you arrived, the artist was the first out, opening your door and helping you out. Wrapping your arm around his, you beamed and rested your head on his shoulder. “Today, you’re glowing with happiness—it’s nauseating,” your husband joked, pretending to feel ill.

• “Oh, you rascal! I’m just…” you turned away, slightly embarrassed. “I’m just happy to have you with me.”

• “Ah, that’s it!” He said, holding the door open and ushering you inside. “How adorably sweet!” The artist chuckled, and as you made your way to the table, he pulled out your chair, sat you down, and scooted you in. “In that case, order whatever your heart desires, babe! Let’s blow this card’s limit!” He slapped the table, placing his credit card beside your hand.

• “Wow, what a surprise!” You feigned amazement. As you browsed the menu, you sneaked glances at your man. Rafayel met your gaze. “Why are you staring so hard?”

• “I love you.”

• “What?”

• “I said, ‘hurry up and order.’ I’m starving over here.” You noticed his ears turning red, and with a giggle, you intertwined your fingers with his. Rafayel looked at your hands, half-lidded eyes taking in the moment. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles and gently raised your hand to his lips, kissing it. “I want to spend my life taking you to fancy restaurants.”

© 2024 do reblog, but don’t copy or publish my work on other platforms, or translate (without my permission) into other languages. Any coincidences are coincidental! The dividers belong to me! If you want use them, just tag me: @alexvolleyball

[animemakesmeanxiouss]

It's okay, there are a lot of people to save right now. He'll get to you, you thought to yourself, as you tightened your hold on the railing of the now-destroyed balcony you were just barely hanging on to.

Katsuki was fighting one the villains with his blasts while Gale Force was saving people who had been hurt or stuck by the villains attack.

Your arms were in so much pain, but you had no way to propel your lower half up to try and leverage yourself into a more stable position so you were using all of your upper body strength to keep yourself wrapped around until he could get to you.

Soon the screams and cries around you dwindled, signifying their removal from any danger, leaving only you, thankfully. You waited and waited, but still no savior came. Then, your arms went numb.

No no no, this cannot be happening right now.

You could feel your grip starting to loosen up and you slipped, just by a couple of centimeters, but you wouldn't be able to hold yourself up much longer. You were solely focused on holding on, but it was getting so difficult. You closed your eyes and tried to tighten your grip as best you could, but the lack of feeling was making things a thousand times more difficult. It was either hold on or die.

Let go said an inner voice. You shook your head furiously with your eyes closed.

"Let go," the voice said again, "I've got you now, doll"

Oh, so it wasn't an inner voice.

You opened your eyes to see Katsuki pulling you into his own arms, making you gladly let go of your railing and hold onto him for dear life.

Your entire body was trembling. From the fear, the adrenaline, or potential nerve damage, you didn't know. You looked up at your savior, and your lover, to see his jaw was clenched tighter than usual as you guys were on your way to the medical tent.

Oh god, he's mad at you

"I-I'm sorry, Kats-"

"Don't apologize, you've done nothing wrong." He cuts you off, but still clearly angry. You rested your head on his chest for the rest of the way, and when he set you down on the ground, he grabbed your arms to inspect them.

"You're going to have insane amounts of bruising from having to hold on so tightly for so long, " he spoke through gritted teeth, before waving a medic over to evaluate you further.

Once they gave him the okay that the bruising would be the worst of the damage, he took you back into him arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently. More gently than you've ever heard him speak before.

You nodded, just as gently, feeling his gloved hand caress your cheek and wiping away tears that you didn't even realize had been running down your face the entire time.

Suddenly, he turned around and stomped his way over to Gale Force, who was just about to give him a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well-done, when Katsuki wound back his fist and punched him so hard, you'd think he'd been launched by a catapult with how far back he flew.

Everyone around was shocked by the punch, but some around looked like they understood why it happened. Meanwhile, you were just watching the scene before you unfold with nothing but utter confusion.

"Next time make sure everyone has been saved before you stand on the sidelines, flexing for girls," Katsuki screamed at him, while pointing towards you. His voice filled with more than just his usual anger, but also the fear and worry he had felt about possibly losing you.

It was then you understood, that while you knew their roles were Katsuki battled and Gale Force rescued, the wind rescuer neglected to do his. That's why Katsuki was so angry. Why his jaw was clenched after he got to you. You'd been abandoned by his mission partner.

Gale Force looked over at you and stuttered out a poor excuse for an apology, but you didn't care. You just wanted Katsuki to hold you and go home, which he surprisingly did.

"Don't you have to do paper-paperwork on this before you can go ho-home?" you asked, still struggling with your speech as you try to process the nerves now that you're safe.

"That fucker can deal with it, if he knows what's good for him," he grumbled, as he flew you back home to the cozy apartment you shared.

You were still trembling when you arrived, and he didn't dare put you down until you were both inside with the door locked and he lovingly placed you on the big cloud couch in your living room before turning on the TV and passing you the remote before making his way to the kitchen. The angry clanking sounds coming from that direction had you more preoccupied than whatever was showing on the big screen until you heard his name.

Uh-oh! Looks like there's trouble in paradise between Pro Heros: Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight and Gale Force, as they worked together on today's big take down/rescue mission as villains attacked several buildings in the downtown area. While Dynamight had taken on the role of battling and capturing the villains, Gale Force used his winds to propel himself rapidly between crumbling buildings and catch those innocents affected by the villainous destruction!

Katsuki appeared behind you and placed a plate on your lap, consisting of cut-up apples and pears as well as a simple ham and cheese sandwich. You shakily brought an apple slice to your mouth and he sat beside you as the newsanchor continued.

However, it seems that Gale Force's radar may have been a bit...defective as there was still one person left hanging, quite literally! Luckily for her, Dynamight was able to quickly assess the situation with the utmost precision and got to her before her poor limbs gave out. Here is a video of the immediate after effects of the rescue:

*The video shows you and Katsuki from a few feet away, Katsuki checking your arms, calling the medic over while Gale Force is laughing with a group of girls about who-knows-what. It was odd seeing it from a third-person point-of-view. Then, without realizing the camera was there, Katsuki sent the guy flying, screaming the same words you had witnessed before*

What do you think, folks? Was Dynamight in the right here? Do you think Gale Force deserved that mean hook on behalf of this young lady-oh, wait a moment! I'm being given some additional information. It seems that the young lady who was rescued by Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was none other than his lover! Oh man, I definitely wouldn't want to be on the other end of that punch with that being the case.

"Bastard's lucky I didn't blow him to pieces," he muttered as he grabbed another apple slice from your plate before his phone rang, startling you both.

"Dynamight," he answered and you heard a familiar voice on the other side.

Hawks

He got up and went back to the kitchen, probably to discuss the issue privately

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't lose my cool on television if that fucking airbender wasn't such a goddamn liability. He's getting sloppy, Hawks, we all know this and today it almost cost me the love of my life. Something has to be done"

It made your already-racing heart flutter even more to hear him call you that. It wasn't like you didn't already know, but he doesn't express it verbally very often. His love language was more acts of service and physical affection and while you wouldn't change the for the world, hearing him talk to someone about his love for you was mind-blowing.

You turned back to the screen to see he had changed the channel before he left to one of your favorites, the cartoon channel, which he thought was super corny but humored you anyway.

After about 20 minutes, he came back and sat beside you once again, this time resting his hand on your thigh where the plate used to be. It now sat on the coffee table in front of you where he reached for the last apple slice you left him, he looked over at your arms, seeing the bruises already forming.

"Are you in any pain?"

You shook your head. You just felt some soreness, nothing crazy, and you didn't want to worry him any more than he already was. It would probably feel worse later but some ice on it should be fine if it even got to that point.

What you wanted more than anything was to lie down, so that's exactly what you did. You rested your head on his lap and he caressed your hair as you both sat in silence, watching the little animated animals on the tv sing and dance their little hearts out until you fell asleep.

After several hours, you awoke with a jump. Something was...wrong. You felt like you were on fire. More specifically, your arms felt like they were igniting from the inside. You didn't know what time it was or how Katsuki ended up lying down with you without waking you, but you couldn't think of it for long because of the awful burning. You wiggled out of his arms and rushed to the bathroom to try and run some cold water over your arms to help the feeling but it wouldn't stop. You were trying to even your breathing and as your eyes adjusted to the light, you analyzed your arms to see they bruising had become pitch black, reflecting the amount of strength it had taken you to hold yourself up for as long as you did.

The cold water wasn't helping and the fear wasn't making the pain any better. You tried not to break down in tears but god, it was so painful. The most painful thing you've ever felt. You closed your eyes for just a moment while you tried to think of what else you could do, when you heard the faucet turn off and felt strong arms grab yours firmly, but gently. You opened your tear-filled eyes and saw Katsuki's focused ones on your arms, gently tracing them before seeing his hands begin to glow.

Heat, you realized and your eyes widened in fear as you pulled away.

"Hey," he said gently as we grabbed your chin to look at him, "I'm not gonna hurt you. The heat will relax your muscles and ease the pain, I promise."

You stared into his eyes for any sense of deceit, or doubt, and could find none so you just nodded. Anything for some relief.

Again, his hands began to glow as he grabbed yours and began to massage them gently. At first, the pressure did cause a bit of stinging but then the fire started to settle. He used his thumbs to massage circles up and down your forearms where it was at its worst, and you could feel the tension lessen.

You didn't realize you had been holding your breath until you let out a shakey one and then burst out sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and held you until you had no more left to cry, from the pain, from the fear of everything that happened today, from the thought that you would never see him again.

He then picked you up and took you to the bedroom and layed with you, continuing to massage your arms until you both fell asleep.

"I'll always take care of you," he whispered as your minded faded to dreams.

And he did, the entire rest of the week, he stayed home massaging your arms, feeding you, helping you bathe, doing everything for you until you were recovered enough that you were practically pushing him out the door and be the hero he is to people besides you.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey!! Can I submit a Fiyero x fem!reader request where reader has a unique/different sense of style than most students at Shiz do and she’s lowkey kinda self-conscious about it since she’s new and has been judged by people before at her previous school. Galinda, noticing this though, thinks it would be a good idea to help her by taking her under her wing and “Galinda-fying” her. Reader tries to take this in stride, but honestly isn’t sure if it’s working😂 that is, until Fiyero notices reader’s struggles and tries to reassure her that she doesn’t need to do all of “that.” Reader is slightly touched by that sentiment, but reveals the real reason why she’s doing all of this in the first place. Cue in soft Fiyero, they share a lovely, sweet moment + Fiyero being his usual charming self at the end🤭😉

cw: insecurity, hurt/comfort

The second you showed up to Shiz, you knew that you were different from the others. Your style was very unique and people didn’t seem to care for that. You could see the way they would look at you when walking to class, the way you’d try to jazz up your uniform to diversify it, making it not look like everyone else’s.

Fiyero liked that about you. He liked how you were yourself and didn’t care what anybody else thought. He was always flirty with you but not in the way he was with everyone else. He genuinely liked you and was starting to wonder when you’d get the hint that he wanted to go out with you.

Glinda also noticed the attraction between the two of you and didn’t know why she felt the need to help you. She could see what was underneath all of your insecurity, how brightly you shined, and she wanted to make it come through. And she could with a little makeover.

To her surprise, it wasn’t hard to get you to show up to her suite. She told you the truth: that she wanted to give you a makeover, and for some reason, you had agreed. Neither of you knew exactly why, but Glinda wasn’t going to question it. She was just going to take what she was given and roll with it.

Okay, maybe you knew why you were doing it. You’d never tell anyone, but you were doing it to catch Fiyero’s attention. You knew it was silly to change your appearance just to catch someone’s attention, but you didn’t know what else to do. He was right there, just out of reach and being yourself clearly wasn’t working.

What you clearly weren’t getting was that you already had him. He had asked you out multiple times and you had just been so oblivious to it, telling him that you had other things to do. Eventually he got the hint and tried his best to move on even though it wasn’t going to be easy.

“You’re here,” Glinda said as she opened the door. Her eyes were wide in shock, but she quickly shook it off, a bright smile on her face as she pulled you into the room with a lot of force.

“This is going to be so much fun!” She gushed. “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Glinda closed the door behind her then made her way over to her vanity where you were sitting. She rested her hands on your shoulders and bent down so that you could also see her in the reflection of her mirror. She smiled at you through it before giving your shoulders a squeeze, standing back up, turning you to face her.

She then pulled something from her bed, opening it to reveal more makeup than you'd ever seen your life. You watched in amazement as dipped a brush into a pretty pink blush before tapping it on your cheeks, nodding to herself once she had put on enough.

She continued to do your makeup as she made conversation with you, genuinely curious about your life before arriving at Shiz. And you told her everything, wondering why you had previously disliked her when she was just trying to be nice to you. Maybe it was because of what you had heard about what had gone on between her and Elphaba.

But she was sweet, and you really didn't care what her motive was for helping you. At least she was helping. And with her help, you were finally going to get Fiyero and the two of you would live happily ever after. Well, you hoped you would.

"What do you think?" She asked as she turned you around to face the mirror. You hardly recognized yourself and you supposed that was the point. The makeup look Glinda had done on you had been nothing like what you had usually done. It was glowy and pink and you didn't want to admit how much you liked it.

"I look-" you cut yourself off, unsure what to say. You moved your head this way and that, captivated by the way the makeup looked on you, wondering if there was a way you could replicate it once you had taken it off for the night.

"Amazing, right?" She asked and you nodded in agreement, deciding that word was good enough to describe what you look like. Afterwards, she gave you some clothes you could borrow and even went as far as accompanying you to class the next day so you'd feel more comfortable about your transformation.

The two of you walked throughout the school arm in arm, your heads held high in your pink and blue uniforms, everyone turning their heads to get a good look at you. Especially Fiyero. Seeing you dressed like that caught him off guard. You were like a clone of Glinda and he didn't like that. He liked you better as yourself and wondered what had inspired you to go through such a transformation.

You were vulnerable and Fiyero thought Glinda had taken advantage of that. She just wanted someone she could use, a minion, and that made him feel sick. He wanted to say something to you but didn't feel like it was his place even though the two of you were friends.

So he watched from afar, distancing himself from you because he was afraid that he would blurt out his real feelings if he got too close. That was the thing about you. You were always able to disarm him, able to make him behave like himself, not the persona he was always putting on for everyone else.

He didn’t like seeing you like that, your personality and mannerisms slowly morphing into Glinda’s right before his eyes and it seemed like no one else cared. Well, that was because no one else loved you the way he did. He loved you. That was quickly becoming more clear as he watched the little things about you that he loved slowly fade away the more time you spent with Glinda.

And the thing was, Glinda was never helping you with malicious intent. She just wanted to help you come out of your shell. She just wanted to help you see your full potential the way she did. And giving you the makeover wasn’t to change you completely, but more just show you that you could be way more that you were. To give you some more confidence than you already had.

You were walking back to your suite after classes and saw Fiyero talking to one of his many friends out of the corner of your eye. You had noticed that he had been distancing himself from you and you wanted to know why, to get to the bottom of it. You wanted to know what you had done.

You marched over to him, anger taking over your features as you did so. Fiyero could see you hurrying towards him and wanted to run away like usual, but you seemed to have intention so he stayed there, ready for whatever punishment you were about to give him since he thought he deserved it.

But you only got a few feet before your ankle twisted, sending you to the floor, your books scattering across it as you did so. Before he could think about what he was doing, Fiyero rushed to you, resting his hand on your back as he looked at you, worry written all over his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded before turning away, wiping away the tears that were trailing down your cheeks.

“I’m fine, Fiyero,” you told him as you quickly got up from the floor, dusting yourself off. You went to reach for your books, but he had already gotten them into a stack, holding them out to you.

“Your knee’s all scratched up,” he told you and you looked down to see that he was right, blood trickling down your leg from the wound.

“Please let me patch you up.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes and Fiyero was quick to scoop you up into his arms before carrying you to his suite.

The two of you were quiet the entire way there, even as he sat you down on his bed. You watched him rifle through his belongings before producing a first aid kit.

You didn’t know why he was helping you when he seemed so upset with you, but you weren’t going to deny it. Anything to be close to him, anything to get him to speak to you again.

You didn’t realize how much you missed him until he was right there within reach. And now you wanted to pull him into your arms and never let him.

He sat on the bed and wordlessly put your leg into his lap, opening up an alcohol wipe and getting rid of all of the blood and anything else that could have gotten into your wound.

“You know, you wouldn’t have fallen if you hadn’t worn those ridiculous shoes,” he grumbled as he put some antibacterial ointment on the wound before covering it with a bandaid.

This was the first time Fiyero had spoken to you like that so it caught you off guard. Now it all made sense, why he had been distancing himself from you. You wished he had just been honest with you instead of ignoring you.

“If you don’t like the way I look then just say that,” you snapped and he pushed your leg off of his lap. He stood up from the bed stood in front of you, bending down so you could see his face.

“I don’t like the way you look.” His words sounded like poison, stinging you in every way possible. You knew it was true, but hearing the words come from his mouth hurt even worse.

His face then softened as he knelt in front of you, taking your hands. He looked apologetic and he was quick to wipe away the tears that were now streaming down your face.

“I liked you better the way you were. I’m sorry for ignoring you and I’m sorry for being so cruel. I just hated that you felt the need to change yourself.”

“I did it for you,” you told him, looking down at your lap, but he grabbed hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye?

“What?” He genuinely seemed shocked when you thought it was obvious. Maybe your advances hadn’t been as clear as you had originally thought.

“It was for you, Fiyero,” you repeated. “I just wanted you to like me.”

“I do like you, y/n,” he said. “So much. Why do you think I asked you out so many times?”

“You didn’t.”

“I most certainly did. I asked you to get coffee many times and even went as far as inviting you to dinner a couple of times.”

Oh, now you felt stupid. You replayed all of the scenarios in your head and sure enough, you had been reading it all wrong. Fiyero did like you and he liked you a lot.

“I-I didn’t know that. I-I would love to go to dinner with you, Fiyero.”

“It’s a date,” he smiled before pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “Make sure to wear that cardigan I like,” he winked, going in for another before helping you to your feet.

The two of you lingered at the door, sharing kiss after kiss until you finally left to go get ready, making sure to wear the cardigan that Fiyero was referring to. The entire time you got ready, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, making a mental note to thank Glinda. She was the whole reason why the two of you had gotten together, after all.

[hiraizyo]

may i kiss your wounds?

synopsis — after unintentionally getting involved in a bar fight, you’re left with an angry sophia who had to deal with your injuries. nevertheless, she knew she couldn’t stay mad at you for long.

established relationship, slight violence, mentions of blood, semi fluff, mature language, angst (if you squint.)

now playing: party monster, the weeknd

a/n: this was a little idea i had while skimming through unfinished works, converting it into a sophia image. i hope you enjoy!

this wasn’t how you expected the night to go, sophia peering over at you with a scowl on her face. and it wasn’t like you wanted the fight to happen, it just… did.

you and sophia were having a good time for the most part. it had been an hour and a half since you arrived at the club, drinking and dancing along to the loud music with daniela and manon, when sophia left to go to the bar for another drink.

you continued conversing and having fun with the other two, and they managed to keep you entertained until you noticed your girlfriend had been gone longer than you expected.

“i’ll be right back.” you told the duo, manon nodding while daniela gave you a thumbs up, giggling. you chuckled as the blonde grabbed manon by the waist and swung their hips together to the beat of the song, and turned to walk away.

you weaved through the crowd of people, making your way to the bar with less difficulty than you expected considering the amount of people there were. quickly scanning the bar section, you spotted sophia leaning over at the counter, in a tight black dress that hugged her body in the best way possible.

you smiled to yourself as you admired her, she looked absolutely gorgeous, and she was all yours.

that smile soon turned sour at seeing a man beside her, round about her age. you weren’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but judging by the look on sophia’s face when he began to speak a few words to her, you guessed it could have been a couple minutes.

walking up to them and snaking an arm around her waist, you peered over at the man with distain.

“can i help you?”

sophia leaned into your body instantly, her chest being filled with relief at the thought of having you beside her.

“hi baby,” she whispered, and leaned up to place a kiss on you cheek. she hoped it would let the guy know she was taken, but to no avail.

the guy didn’t give you the satisfaction of acknowledging your presence. instead, he gave you a once over before looking back to sophia, and leaning on the counter, as if he was getting comfortable enough to continue his conversation with her.

what a jackass, you thought to yourself.

“so, how about that drink, mh?” he questioned, voice low. the guy was looking straight passed you as if you were invisible.

even the sound of his voice made you angry, never mind the fact that he had the audacity to ask such a question, which made you tighten your hold on sophia’s waist.

“take a hint, pal. she doesn’t want the drink.” you told him sternly, your temper rising slightly.

“i’m sorry, and you are?” his titled to the side, eyes switching to you.

“her girlfriend.”

“wow,” he muttered, once again looking you over. his attention moved back over to sophia, who looked as if she was very much done with him. the corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly, “as anyone ever told you that you could do better?”

before you got a chance to say anything, sophia was telling him off. “are you saying that you are better?”

her eyebrow raised ever so slightly as she looked at him in annoyance. the guys hand twitched, and you could tell that what your girlfriend said clearly hurt his ego. it took everything in you not to smirk at his reaction, knowing it would only set him off further.

he craned his neck to the side, still relentless. “huh, figures you two are together. no one likes a bitch who can talk ba—”

before he could finish his sentence, you stepped up to him, feeling angry on sophia’s behalf.

“hey!” you leaned in close, peering down at him as he settled further into his seat. “you better watch your fucking mouth.”

his lips upturned into a smirk — the guy knew he was getting to you.

“or what?”

your eyes squinted, looking at him with disinterest. “oh no, i’m not doing this with you.”

your head shook as you took a couple steps back, the distance now significantly more. he wasn’t letting up though, setting his drink down on the counter.

sophia watched as his eyebrows furrowed together in half anger, half teasing. she could tell the guy was drunk based on his slurring words, and she wasn’t liking where this interaction was going.

“so that’s it? all bark and no bite?”

“you’re pathetic.”

that definitely hit a nerve in him.

before you could register it, the guys fist collided with your jaw, his knuckle hitting the corner of your mouth so hard you felt it tear open. it hurt, badly. sophia let out a startled gasp behind you, watching in horror at the scene that played out before her.

without thinking, you moved swiftly to punch him in the nose. your hand was tightened in a fist, unclenching after the blow to him. your heartbeat was rising fast, anger flooding through you veins.

he stumbled back, holding on to his nose and scrunched up his face in pain. his vision blurred foe a second. the guy groaned, tilting his head up and then looked at you with a threatening glare. before he could get in another hit, a tall bouncer came up behind in, dressed in black and pulled him away.

what was left behind was you, breathing deeply. the adrenaline was too much for the pain in your hand to register, but you were sure to feel it later. your jaw, however, stung in a dull ache.

sophia tentatively set a hand on your shoulder, a frown etched onto her face. it was mostly out of concern, but also out of displeasure.

“i think it’s time we leave.”

her voice cut through the ringing in your ears, pulse slowing down until it was at its normal pace. her ability to bring you back to reality was unlike anything you’d experienced, seeing and feeling much clearer again.

she let manon and daniela know you’d be going, and the ride home was filled with silence. you could tell she was upset, whether it was because of the guy or at you was a mystery.

“are you still mad?”

currently, sophia dabbed a wet cloth to your lip, wiping away the dried blood while you both sat on the couch in your home. you hissed at the feeling, the disinfectant on the cloth clearly having an effect on the wound.

your jaw was bruised slightly. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind you and sophia of how quickly the night events took a turn. a frozen ice pack was held to your knuckles, the skin of it also bruised and beginning to turn red, both from the coldness and the impact of your punch.

sophia didn’t reply, continuing to gently pat on the corner of your lip. her eyes were focused in on the spot where the blood had been wiped away, the wound still open slightly.

“baby?”

she sighed, setting the cloth down and began to pick at her nails.

“i’m not mad. i just… i don’t know, i didn’t like seeing that happen.” the filipino rubbed her hands on her thighs, before getting up and walking into the kitchen.

you left the ice pack on the coffee table, following after her. “what was i supposed to do? did you even hear the way he talked about you?”

sophia leaned her lower back against the marble counter, arms wrapped around herself, looking as if she was trying to keep warm. you moved to stand opposite her, watching her carefully.

“that doesn’t mean things needed to get violent.” she told you, a frown set in place.

“okay, okay…” you looked at her regretfully, running a hand over your face. “i’m sorry.”

she looked to the side, biting on her bottom lip. you could tell various thoughts were taking over her mind. sophia has seen you take a few punches before, most of them being playful with your friends. not one like tonight, though.

tonight was a side of you she had never experienced.

the aftermath clearly took a toll on her. the silence in the car and both when you came home was deafening, and you hated it.

“soph,” you called out, voice barely above a whisper. “talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

she loosened her arms around her body, setting her left hand to rest beside her while her other wrapped around the back of her neck as she looked to the floor, rubbing it softly.

sophia’s voice was filled with concern, her eyes shining from the light of the kitchen once she gazed at you. “it wasn’t fun seeing you get hurt like that.”

“i’ve gotten hurt plenty of times!” you shrugged, not seeing the big deal. “i mean, i have a scar from last year when we went hiking and i tripped.”

sophia scoffed, pushing off the counter to stand upright. “yeah, but that was an accident. tonight could’ve ended a lot worse.”

“but it didn’t.”

“but it could’ve!”

her response was quick, voice raising ever so slightly. you squinted at her, gesturing with your hand as you spoke.

“y’know, you’re sounding really angry for someone who claims she’s not.” your hands rested on your hips, matching the level of her voice.

“because i’m not!” sophia yelled, “don’t you get it? i was scared for you!”

her words hung in the air, settling over the two of you like a blanket. it made you swallow down whatever enragement you had left in you. you sighed, realizing now that sophia wasn’t speaking out of being upset, but rather fear.

you slowly stepped towards her, until you were in her personal space and placed your hands on sophia’s torso. she looked at you, finally seeing the anxiety in her eyes. it was clear as day, and you mentally kicked yourself for not noticing it sooner.

your words were gentle, the both of you calming down from your little quarrel. “i’m sorry, alright? i’m sorry for how tonight went, and for getting hurt. and i’m sorry for not thinking about how you’d feel watching it all happen.”

your thumbs rubbed in circles against the material of the dress she was still wearing, trying to convey your feelings of regret. sophia looked at you for another moment, and you could see the forgiveness in them, before she rested her forehead against your chest and breathed in the smell of your cologne.

the filipino didn’t say anything else, but her arms wrapped around you and pulled you close, locking them against your back. you could tell by her actions that she no longer held any negative feelings, the issue been resolved.

you settled your chin atop her head while she turned to lay her cheek on you instead. “come on, let’s watch a few episodes of your comfort show and cuddle together. how does that sound?”

sophia laughed quietly, “you think cuddling fixes everything.”

“because it does.” you replied, tapping her torso with your fingers in a rhythm.

sophia rolled her eyes playfully, settling further into your warmth. she sighed deeply, relishing in the comfort of having you wrapped together, arms holding tightly onto one another’s bodies as if letting go would mean disappearing.

“okay,” she mumbled. “but let’s stay like this for a little bit longer.”

after hearing that, you placed a kiss on her head and moved to envelop her into your arms. they were now like hers, locked together around sophia’s back.

the night surely wasn’t how you wanted it to go, but having her so close against you, breathing together as one, was a perfect way to end it.

here y’all go!! i took a bit longer than expected but i hope you enjoyed <3

the votes have come back to make the fwb imagine an idol au sooo i’m lowk excited to write that ;) i decided i’d write it with daniela, since i have an idea manon x biker!reader 🙂‍↕️

[urstruly-ghst]

more drabbles before i release my full fics !

sebek zigvolt he'd know nothing but love you in secret. casual smiles and longing stares thrown to your way as he hid behind the "mightier than thou" facade. he'll be in his room pining and piling up letters all addressed to you, but will never be sent. they pile up on his drawer hidden like his feelings and his true colors. he'd only wish that you feel the same.

vil schoenheit is so beautiful that you sometimes avoid him. when he tries to approach you, you'll shy away or sputter that you're busy. "sorry vil" became a tagline of yours. vil, at first, just chalk it up to actual reasons. then, it hurts. are you avoiding him? did he do something wrong? was he losing you?

inspired by "senses by MICO," — cater diamond would relate so much. he's amazing, so you say. but why doesn't it feel like it? shouldn't you shine more when he stands next to you, why do you dim your shine when he holds you close? cater would hear the whispers from people from his own thoughts. so, here he is, begging that you won't wake up from the dream you set for the two of you. you'll be with him, right? or was he just wishing on a star that long fell? maybe someday, you'll know that he wasn't the greatest option for you.

inspired by "risk by gracie abrams" — jump, you'll say, as you urge trey clover. in the river you both found, you ask trey to jump. he's sensible, he won't jump in. but why is it so enticing? this wasn't the first time he took the risk for you, it was rushing in his veins to risk it for you. it came to a point he'd often ask why is it hopelessly boring without you? he halts as he took of his coat and hat and jumped head first, feverishly holding you close. your lips both collide and only the river knows what trey ever felt for you in that moment. because once you both exit this scenery, you're back to strangers.

not edited, just thoughts

[pauli-writes]

ever since 2.7 the sunday short(s) you made live rent free in my head.... how would reader react to him joining the ae after all of that 😣😣

warning: idk what to write here, themes of trauma and healing?

pairing: sunday x reader

author‘s note: thank u anon for waking me up from my hiatus with this. i was so creatively drained, but this request gave me new life. im probably gonna do all of the event stuff in the new year, so you can still request on that if you want. also happy belated holidays to all of you!

part i ☆ part ii

“no.”

“but reader-“

“i said no. i don’t want him here.”

march 7th and the trailblazer were looking at you with wide eyes, while welt, himeko and dan heng were a little more understanding to your seemingly drastic reaction to the newcomer of the astral express, who at the moment was standing awkwardly a little further away from the group.

“maybe we should talk about this in private?” dan heng suggested, but you only brushed him off.

“there is nothing to talk about. you asked me a question and i gave you an answer, i’m sorry if it doesn’t satisfy you.” with that you left the parlour car, the door closing shut behind you with a heavy thud. there was a tense silence that followed as the remaining members of the astral express exchanged worried glances.

himeko was the first to speak. “they’ll come around. this is just a lot for them.”

“himeko is right,” welt added calmly, “they’ll talk when they’re ready.”

later that day you were ghosting around the party car, unable to fall asleep. you supposed a snack and something to drink would do the trick. the earlier encounter was still heavy in your mind, replaying over and over again like a broken cassette tape. you know you were being mean and unreasonable, but you were just too overwhelmed with emotion to think reasonably.

as you got your drink and snack from shush, you turned to walk back to your room only to find sunday, staring out the window. the sight stirred something in you, a strange feeling of nostalgia, melancholy and hurt all mixed into one. you wanted to walk away, return to your room and never speak of this again, but just in that split second he turned his head and the two of you locked eyes for a split second, before he turned back toward the window. a moment of silence passed between the two of you, before he spoke up.

“the view is beautiful…” his voice was subdued, almost sad as he spoke, a stark contrast to the assured way he talked previously.

“i suppose it is…” you replied awkwardly, “i haven’t payed attention in a while.”

another stretch of silence passed between the two of you. you pondered if you should just leave, avoid the awkwardness, but before you could walk away he spoke up again.

“i apologise for any distress i caused you with my request to join the express. that was never my intention.” he turned away from the window and looked at you properly. you could see his expression, it was different that before, he looked sadder, remorseful even. this was a different sunday, that much was clear to you now.

you sighed and avoided his gaze uncomfortably, “you never mean to, but you still do it…”

sunday’s face fell at your words as a slight realisation fell upon him, he let out a small humourless laugh. “of course, i owe you an apology for that too…” he said mostly to himself, before clearing his throat and properly addressing you. “i see now that my actions were selfish. keeping you inside, wasn’t for you, it was for me… i know this apology doesn’t make up for what did, but i hope it makes traveling with me… easier.”

you looked to the ground silently. your emotions were all over the place at the moment. his apology didn’t help. there was a time were you hated him, but as you distanced yourself from what happened and looked back, you knew that sunday wasn’t solely responsible for what happened, his environment, the people around him, shaped him into that person. so, couldn’t blame him entirely anymore.

you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “i don’t what to feel anymore… the astral express was the first place where I was free to do as i please, it’s my home… somehow it feels wrong having you here.” you paused for a moment, looking for the right words, “but my reaction earlier was harsh, i can see you’re making an attempt to redeem yourself and that’s… comforting. i just need time and space to… to process everything.”

sunday looked at you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “of course, i understand. thing like that take time.”

for the first time that day you smiled, only a little, but a smile all the same. sunday couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile, but he was glad to see that again. “thank you… well, i’m off to bed then. good night.”

he straightened himself and nodded, returning the small smile. “good night, reader.”

[petriwriting]

Resentment - Theodore Nott X reader

summary: Y/N gets jealous when Theodore has a really beautiful herbology project partner.

A/N: They/them pronouns. Implied female reader, but not important. Jealous!Theo & Reader. Cormac Mclaggen being a shit head. and slightly toxic and abusive. Gryffindor Vs Slytherin love triangle (sort of)

Her long curls fell down her back perfectly. Sweet perfume filled the room, something with notes of rose, bergamot and cedar. Manicured thin fingers held a quill and took notes. she smiled, and laughed as if she were in a movie. He was wealthy, athletic and came from a prestigious pureblooded family. She was everything. Slytherins It girl. she was popular and the type of girl who was always nice, even to the Gryffindors and non-purebloods. Her name was Astoria Greengrass. Even her name had a nice ring to it, sounding just as perfect as her appearance.

She was fortunate enough to be paired with Theodore for the herbology class you shared, Theodore had been your long-time crush since you were children, but as you both grew more mature and time passed, It was somewhat evident he may not feel the same, as you had hoped. The two of you maintained a very playful, and flirty in nature relationship, but both parties kept it to a minimum, scared of teetering over the edge that would dileniate friends from lovers. a line that you felt was often blurred with the boy. But now, Theodore seemingly had eyes for another.

The professor went on about poisonous plants and their uses in magic, potions and tinctures. You day dreamt about putting wolfsbane in Astoria's coffee, in a jealous rage. Maybe you had learned something in that class afterall. You were rightfully upset. She tossed her head back and laughed at Theodore's every joke, and smacked his arm playfully. They would make the perfect couple, though it was sad to admit. both were young and attractive slytherins. You thought you surely didn't stand a chance against her. It was good though that your own class partner was jotting down notes. It was a nerdy hufflepuff boy, who asked questions a lot and kept pushing his glasses back up on his face.

You seethed in anger as you watched what was unfolding, watching the two closely the entire class period. Once class was over, you scurried away quickly. You just wanted to scream into your pillow, it wasn't fair at all. You huffed, rushing back to your dorm, and of all people to run into...Thud.

"I am so sorry," It is Cormac Mclaggen. His blonde hair, and strong jawline, boyish figure, now all standing in front of you.

"It's alright," you utter softly. the boy helps you gather your books that had scattered across the floor, your hand brushed yours and you swear you saw him flush. 'Are you headed back to your dorm?"

The question caught you off guard. Was it that obvious you were going back there to cry, eat chocolate and be alone?

"Yes, actually." you said finally. "May I walk you?" he asks. You shook your head at first, it would have been a polite no but you could use the company, and It never hurt to be seen with someone for once.

"Very well then. Shall we?" He asks, holding your books for you. It was odd that someone like him would even consider speaking to someone like you, coming from vastly different cliqes with different friends. you walked forward while he matched your stride beside you. "So, Herbology, huh?" He asks to break the ice, seeing your herbology textbook at the top of the stack of textbooks.

"Yes, It's been rough." you admit. "Just remembering all the herbs and which ones are poison and which ones are healing." you continued.

"That class was a breeze for me." He says with confidence. He isn't usually the type you would attract, but he is handsome and willing to talk to you. "Oh really?" you quipped, somewhat oblivious to the obvious flirting, but playing along anyway.

"Yes," Cormac says with a smirk. "I could tutor you if you'd like?" He offers. You stop at the common room entrance, he passes your books over to you. "That would be really nice, actually." you said. "I'd appreciate that."

Cormac nods, shifting his focus to you. "Meet me in the library tomorrow afternoon then? We can go over some material." you smiled softly. "Its a date then." you said, quickly correcting yourself. "Well, not really a date, date. But you know what I mean." you reply.

"Its a date." he nods with a wink and a smirk and then wanders off. you enter common room and then past the students sitting there leisurely. You enter to sanctuary of the dorm, finally. Did you just schedule a date? I guess If your longtime crush decided it was time to move on, there was nothing stopping you from doing the same.

. . . . . .

The next day, the afternoon came quickly. You appeared in the library early, before lunchtime to study on things on your own. Little did you know you would run into a certain someone and his 'friend'. Of course, as soon as you heard Astoria's effortlessly attractive laugh, your heart sank into your stomach. The mood you were in faded, and you couldn't stop thinking about Theodore.

You wanted to prance over there and tell her off in front of Theo, but you knew causing a scene would just make you look like a fool and word would spread, followed by rumors. So you stayed in your seat, taking notes for the textbook you were looking through, copying the illustrations and writing down key-words.

The laughter was like a melody, filling the air and piercing through the silence of the library, it was heard above the quiet chatter, and when you looked back with a glare your eyes caught Theodore's. You stared for a moment, and then looked away. Astoria was suddenly quiet again. You decided to play the game right back at him.

Cormac Mclaggen approached your corner of the library, and you smiled, standing to greet him with a hug, the confused, but not complaining boy embraced you tightly and you giggled. "Thank you for doing this." you whispered.

Mclaggen was clueless to your antics, just wanting a date and to study.. or so you had thought. The flirting was amped up to the max, and absolutely no studying got done that afternoon. Cormacs hands reached lower... past your lower back.

(Theodore's POV in italic.)

When I locked eyes with them in the library I knew. I knew that I had ruined my chances. I turn to my classmate and family friend, Astoria. The other Slytherins would be deathly embarrassed for me if they knew I had asked the girl for help. Despite my reputation as a flirty 'bad boy' as some would say, I knew this relationship was different, It didn't feel like just a crush, and I wanted to get things right. So Astoria was helping me flirt. She was pretty, sure and could have any guy she wanted, which is what made her the perfect qualified expert to seek help from.

"Girls like when you sit close to them," Astoria had told me, tossing her long hair behind her ear. "You'll know if she likes you if she plays dumb at first, classic move. and," Astoria explains. "They'll laugh obnoxiously loud at everything you say. Like this." she erupts in a thunderous laugh, she's faking it, but I don't think anyone can really tell. I sigh.

"Alright," I say. "What about if they aren't... so direct?" I ask her, uncertain. The person I had eyes for didn't seem like the type to giggle at my every word just because I was giving them attention, it seemed superficial. "Well," she begins with her lips pursed. "Then you'll have to be yourself if the classics don't work." She says. I'm unconvinced, I'm not the best at talking beyond flirting. and they are important to me.

"It's just like I told you in Herbology," Astoria says. "Being yourself will work once you've flirted and played a little. Make them chase you." she says matter of fact. I snicker, I know her secret, and that her tactics don't work on the one boy here she has eyes on. "Is that what you're doing with Draco?" I ask her, she flushes red and fingers the ends of her hair, a nervous habit. I noticed she did it when she spoke to him, so maybe even the experts get nervous.

"noo!" she exclaimed. "I try and be nice to him," she explains. "He's been through a lot." she frowns. "Sure, Astoria." I say her name very promptly. "That doesn't matter, I'm trying to help you remember?" she says. "Oh I remember." she chuckles again. "You are unbelievable Nott. so, Who is the lucky girl?" she asks.

This is the part where I looked up to meet their eyes. We locked eyes for a moment, I was mesmerized. Enamored. But then I see that Mclaggen and his bloody arse is hugging them. My blood begins to boil, I want to lunge forward and hex him, but I stay in my seat quietly. "It doesn't matter." I say. "We need to leave." I Say promptly. "Oh, ok." Astoria frowns again, softly gathering her things and following me out of the library in a rush.

. . . . . .

In the following few weeks it was now an official school-wide rumor that Theodore Notts' new girlfriend was Astoria Greengrass. There were even rumors from the Gryffindors that you were Cormac's new arm candy. It upset you, greatly. So you had been playing along and letting Cormac take you on dates and to honeydukes. You'd been doing all the things couples do, without the label.

You figured it didn't matter considering Theo had a new girlfriend. You had wanted to tell him how you felt, and you were so close too, until all this happened. Almost everywhere you saw him in passing he was with her and the other Slytherins. You avoided them specifically to avoid the conflict.

You were walking yourself to class when Cormac popped up, you tried to hide your dismay, you wanted to roll your eyes and scoff but you faked it instead. Cormac was clingy, and could be very pushy at times. "Hi love." he said with a smirk. You hated when he called you that. "Hello." you said quietly. "Will you be at my quidditch game later today?" He asks. you stop in your tracks. "Tonight?" you confirm. "Yep. you know where," he winks. "I have my Jersey from last year for you to wear from the stands." He says, pulling out a Gryffindor Quidditch Jersey that hasn't been washed and smells like sweat and cologne. You stared at the filthy cloth.

"Well, I have plans tonight." you said. it wasn't a lie, you did forget about his stupid game. Cormac looked at you like a lost, orphaned puppy you had just kicked. you sighed, not wanting conflict to arise. "I guess I can make it work." you said finally, grabbing the nasty shirt and holding it out. "right on!" Cormac cheers for himself. "I'll see you this evening." He says, kissing the side of your head and then rushing off into the halls to be with his buddies.

You wanted to scream, as you walked back towards your dorm. You needed a nap to clear your head. Cormac could be a great boyfriend, for someone who liked half-beaten flowers that were bearly alive, cheap jewelry, Honeydukes chocolates (Not even the kind you liked..) and for someone who liked to be smothered. You had to put an end to it before it got worse, and before he started to catch actual feelings, but you liked the attention and felt less empty, so you stayed around.

As you made it to your dorm you laid down in defeat, tossing the dirty jersey onto the floor. No way you were wearing that this evening. You'd wear a warm coat and your house scarf like you had planned.

. . . . . .

When the evening came around, you gathered around and got ready with your dorm mates, helping each other pick outfits and making sure your hair was perfect, It was a cute moment. Something heartwarming and refreshing before you would inevitably have to stand in the cold stands during a quidditch game, the one you didn't even want to attend. you hadn't even been thinking about how Theo would be there as well, until you remembered out of nowhere. It made you even more upset. But eventually you'd have to stop avoiding him and just be happy for the boy.

You just wanted a good fun evening, without unrequited love on your mind. You pushed Theodore to the back of your mind, for now. You tried to be present in the moment, just enjoy the time you had with your friends, no drama, no bullshit.

as you approached the quidditch stands, students were slowly filling the stands, Slytherin against Gryffindor. Both very... Passionate houses. you were hoping you'd blend in, without the obnoxious jersey you didn't bother wearing. Students chattered, the roar slowly growing louder until the start of the game. The cold air was nipping at you, piercing your exposed skin. You shivered slightly, hoping it wouldn't snow that evening. You chatted with your friends, who accompanied you.

Once the game began, everyone lined up in position. It started off slow, with Gryffindor in the lead, nearing to a tie. You watched as player flew past you on their broomsticks, an entertaining affair. Your eyes tried to ignore Theodore, but he looked so handsome in his Slytherin quidditch robes.. you couldn't help but feel warmth on your cheeks. You were pulled out of your dreamy state when Cormac waved for you, blew you a kiss and made a heart with his hands. you sank back into your seat on the stands, it was embarrassing. Your friends teased you about it making kissy noises. You hoped the Golden Snitch would be captured already to save you the torment.

Slytherin and Gryffindor were now tied, it was a race now. Both houses were incredible competitors, especially for each other. You secretly hoped Gryffindor would lose so you wouldn't have to celebrate with Cormac later, you felt bad for not liking him, and for stringing him along. You are lost in your own thoughts, despite the large crowd, the chatter and cheering.

You should have thought that sooner, Because that's exactly what happened. Gryffindor lost, by a very close call. Slytherins in the crowd cheered loudly, a roar of applause and laughter. A relief for you. You watched from the stands as everyone cheered for Theodore and his team, Cormac looked pissed off, in some side huddle with the rest of his team just under the stands out of view. You hurried down from the stands to the field, your hands were like ice cubes despite the fingerless gloves. You were surprised not to see Astoria lingering near...

"Hey!" Theodore calls for you. "Congrats on winning tonight, Nott." You said playfully, breaking the ice finally. while upset, you still cared for him. His eyes still made you feel warm and his scent was enough to make you weak in the knees. "Owe it all to the team." He says, running his fingers through his hair. "Non-sense, you did great out there. Best playing I've seen in a long time." You quipped, a sharp exhale escaping your chest as you saw Cormac wander over. Total eye roll.

He threw his arm around you, as if you were his property. You pushed his arm away and gave you a sharp look. "That your boy?" Theodore asked harshly, biting his lip in restraint. "What?" you questioned, realizing what he had meant. "No, no." you said quickly.

Cormac's cocky expression dropped to a cold one. "Excuse me?" he asked you dramatically. "Don't be ridiculous. Let's get out of here." he said. When you shook your head, clearly uncomfortable, Cormac grabbed the center of your upper harm, with a stern tight grasp. You gasped gently, the squeeze was painful as you struggled against him.

"Let me go!" you snapped at him, That is when Theodore stepped in and grabbed his wrist as he tried to reach for you again after you had struggled out of his grasp. "They said to let them go." he seethed through his teeth.

Cormac scoffed loudly. "Is he the reason why you refused to wear MY Jersey?" He looked at you, standing behind Theodore. He had said questionable things to you, but you were scared now that he had gotten physical with you. "Stay away from me," you snapped at him. "I should have never spoken to you."

Cormac laughs, had he had his wand with him he would have tried to hex the both of you. Unfortunately, he didn't have it. He hesitated for a moment and then swung on Theodore, luckily, like a cat his movement was swift and he was able to dodge. This only made Cormac angrier. "You son of a-" Cormac had tried to lunge forward, but your emotions and frustration got the better of you now, and you had stepped forward and kneed him hard in the crotch. The boy cowered in pain immediately, and you stood there for a moment, some of the slytherins cheered for you, some stared in shock, others were amused. your face went red, and then the tears threatened to spill over so you ran off.

In the evening cold, the snow had began to fall as the sun set over the school. You had ran through the corridors to find someplace private, landing on an empty corridor on the far end of school grounds. Immediately, the tears began to fall. You felt so stupid you had let Cormac Mclaggen of all boys embarrass you like that. and in front of the only boy you've ever wanted? That was just social suicide. You were crying not just because of that but because of how scary the situation was, now you'd be targeted by Cormac and his group. You wanted nothing to do with him from the start, you just wanted to make Theo jealous and to make yourself feel less alone.

You choked out another sob and you steadied your breathing.

. . .

I saw them there, after leaving my quidditch gear behind on the field. they looked so saddened and I couldn't bear the thought of that low life bloke ever hurting them. I wanted to hug them, tell them it was all going to be okay. They were sobbing, and my heart shattered. I knew I would find them here. I said their name tenderly, gently. They quickly brushed the tears away from their eyes and looked at me. "I'M sorry about all that." I say softly. "Is everything okay?" I ask.

They take a long breath and open up, finally. "Cormac hasn't been the greatest to me," They admit. I knew that much. "We aren't dating, by the way." they said. I sighed, and placed a hand over theirs in reassurance. Even with puffy eyes and restlessness they still looked breathtaking to me. "I was using him to make you jealous." They said. I swallowed in confusion.

"Why me?" I asked, I sounded like a desperate fool. I just wanted to make sure they were okay, no matter who they were with. "Because," They said. I sigh, not wanting to pry any further.

I finally speak up after a short silence. "You know... I really like you." I said finally. My heart is racing but it feels so good to say out loud. I anxiously anticipate their response. They look at me in confusion, which confuses me... "I thought you were seeing Astoria Greengrass." they asked me. I chuckle lightly at the thought, She's not my type, and very much into Draco. "No, no I am not." I say in disbelief. Its starting to make sense now, I supposed to an outsider my little secret deal with Astoria could be mistaken for a relationship. "She's only being friendly with me so she can get closer to Draco." I explain. "I had this deal with her... I would set her up with him if she would help me impress you." I say, it feels like spilling my guts. "I hope it worked." I add after a second.

"I had no Idea you felt that way about me." They say. "Being with you is all I've ever wanted since I met you." I admit sheepishly. "I just have never had any idea what to do with this feeling, It's strong and new for me." I continue. Oh, Merlin. Stop. Talking. though mentally scolding myself, and before saying anything stupid I take another step closer to them, inches from their face. They give me such a gentle and loving gaze it makes me feel warm and loved. I close the distance, embracing lips with them in a gentle embrace.

. . .

You were taken back by the kiss but embraced it, enjoying every second of the moment. Your hands felt up to the nape of his neck and into his hair, while his found their way to your lower back. You pulled back after a moment, embarrassed that you looked like a mess from the crying. "Then lets do it." you said finally.

"Let's be a really good couple." you said with a girlish giggle at the thought. "Absoluetly, anything," Theo says. You gaze into his eyes in another sweet moment. It was now somewhat official, your heart was fluttering and you felt butterflies congregate in your chest. An amazing feeling.

[amorchai]

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐒.

⭑ ttpd collection!

pairing(s): draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

summary: someone who falls for a troubled boy with a history of hurting those close to him, but they believe they can change him.

words: 1783

warnings/tags: angst with some more angst, draco being distant, self-deprecating and sad, just sadness while r is the warmth to save him.

redemption and growth didn’t mean much forgiveness to everyone. if harry potter was able to move on and understand, why couldn’t others? it was all draco malfoy could focus on when returning to the reimagined hogwarts shortly after the battle resulted in the finality of voldemort.

his father was lost, sure he was relieved but more so mentally drained and his mother tended to him quietly, peacefully. leaving draco to board the hogwarts express alone and vulnerable of the stares and judgement he was sure would continue throughout the year.

and it did. glares in the halls, backs turned in the slytherin common room and draco couldn’t stand one more sympathetic set of eyes from pansy parkinson and brutal silence from blaise zabini.

apparently throwing harry potter his wand didn’t mean people forgot who he was before. it made sense, but draco didn’t feel like trying to make a new introduction of himself in his final year of school. the sooner his grades were achieved, the sooner he left school, got a job, and moved away from everything he hated in life.

it was easy pushing his friends away, they didn’t say much to him anyway, and draco was sure that was due to the loss of goyle during the battle. his thoughts had never been louder as they were, spent alone in the library, in his lonesome dorm or the moonlit corridors during prefect patrol.

the astronomy tower cleared his mind, the cool nightly air sweeping across his tired skin in early hours of the morning when he should be patrolling for any misbehaving students. his feet are found trudging up the steps almost every night.

only this time, it was occupied. draco was ready to threaten punishment, trudge to headmaster mcgonagall’s office the moment it was a reasonable hour until he realised it was the familiar hufflepuff he’s known since first year.

you’re looking out towards the dark highlands, once would bring an eery and scary atmosphere now comforting and sending you a sense of solace you desperately needed when patrolling the lower grounds became overwhelming and boring.

draco’s feet pause to take in your frame for one quick moment before he turns to leave briskly, but your voice cuts into the crisp air, “draco?” when he turns you’re now looking at him, slight confusion clouding your expression.

“i was just leaving.”

his voice is firm but quiet, unable to deal with another glared look but he’s only met with a shake of the head, “it’s okay. i should be getting back anyway, you should stay.” with hesitance, draco watches as you step back from the railing, and withdrawing from the shadows, draco’s shoes tap against the concrete.

“are you okay?” you ask as if it’s simple, as if you and draco were close and his eyebrows furrow darkly at the question. “no,” he responds truthfully, eyes tracing over your frame when you very slowly move from your spot and near where he stands.

“want to talk about it?” you then ask. draco was unsure what you needed from him; he never hated you but he never liked you either. you were just there. nothing less, nothing more. you were always briefly brought up in late night conversations from years before – crabbe, goyle, and him discussing whom they found attractive. and draco was always teased for bringing your name up yearly.

but that was it.

“no.” his response is more firm, and you nod afterwards, “okay.” he didn’t understand the way you were looking at him, it wasn’t painfully horrible like other students or pitiful sympathy like pansy. somewhere in the middle, draco believed.

you’re beside him, eyes watching each other in the dark of the night and draco expression panics when you lean up to press a small kiss to his cheek – sudden comfort at the feeling of your warm lips against his cold pale skin.

when you begin to pull away, draco turns, breath hitting yours and you freeze. you’re centimetres away from each other, eyes daring and dark and the only thing draco can hear apart from your heavy breaths are the owls in the distance.

it urges him to move, lips pressing to yours, at first ghostly and light but the moment you kiss back his hands are cupping your jaw to press his lips daringly deeper. calloused fingers trace your skin, sad lips moving against yours, moulding perfectly together until they weren’t anymore.

your hands are squeezing his robes, heavy pants mixing as you try to regain your composure. however, before you know can properly process it, your hands are forced to drop as draco steps away and he’s gone down the steps of the tower, out of sight.

from then on he was cold, distant. you tried to talk to him about what happened but he only made you feel like you were following him like an abandoned puppy; packing his things and desperately leaving the library when you enter or steps trudging away during patrol before you can properly see him and approach.

draco stops going to the astronomy tower altogether, in fear you were there, waiting. which you were. you could survive on your own, sure you yearned for more but you wanted an explanation more than anything. why initiate a kiss to then ignore you straight after as if you don’t exist?

however, while draco stayed away his thoughts were overcome of you. he had no friends to consult with, his mother and father were preoccupied and would scold him for having thoughts outside achieving perfect grades.

it was pure warmth in a cold, cold war. he could still picture the heat of your lips and willingness to lean into your attractive, soft nature – inviting and daring. draco hated himself so he couldn’t love another, not when no one else in his life cared anymore, so he stayed away.

therefore, draco was confused why his feet dragged him back up the tower one stormy night. his chest is tight and head picking up a headache from the heavy frown he wore. it only deepens the moment he arrives to the empty building, pattering of the rain hitting the edge of the bricks and thunder breaking through the sky in the distance.

his fingers trace the rain-soaked railing, thoughts trailing back to you desperately. still yearning, wanting. the ashen hair trapsing over his forehead tiredly as his green robe floats from a gust of wind.

“i think what you did was brave,” draco jumps at the sudden voice, familiar and immediately inviting him to turn around and catch your gaze. “what?” he asks, murmured and lost, fingers numbing from the cold air and metal railing.

you tut, keeping a distance from him, “standing up to voldemort, risking your life to give harry his wand back.” draco shakes his head, turning his head back to face the mountains across, “don’t.”

draco can hear your footsteps as you walk closer towards him, “don’t what?” you ask when he looks down at his reddening-fingers. he chuckles loosely, in what you can only depict as self-deprecating before draco instead responds, “no one else does.”

“i do.”

your voice is closer, but draco doesn’t dare turn around and face it. scared of running again, of pushing you away since you may never come back. he wouldn’t expect you to. “you can talk about it, you know?”

your fingers reluctantly grazes his arm, gentle as if he might disappear from too much contact. they move over the uniformed robe, daringly and testing his reaction. draco’s limb tenses under the feeling, head still hooded and facing forward.

“i can’t.”

his tone pains you, he sounds hurt and small compared to how you used to see him, mean and loud. you weren’t sure which one you preferred, neither very appealing but you were still drawn to him, fingers not wavering from their position.

“draco,” your tone is different, hand enclosing around his arm and daring to tug it knowingly. he inhales sharply and closes his eyes, draco shouldn’t indulge because he was only scared of treating you the way he treated his friends; dismissive and distant.

but the blond boy can’t help but turn, eyes finally meeting your guiding ones when he faces you. your fingers trail up his arm and your thumb grazes over his cheek as you lean up to peck his lips before his face is buried into your neck, arms wrapped around each other.

there’s a slight shake as draco cries into your uniform, your fingers soothing over his hair and back as he breaks down. draco knows he should be pushing you off, leaving you here alone to keep from breaking your heart because he hopes to merlin he never has to.

however, draco’s frame can’t seem to pull away from yours, arms encasing your lower back as draco pulls you impossibly closer, the warmth inviting in his cold, dark mind.

the storm outside seems to mirror the turbulence within him, rain pouring down relentlessly as thunder rumbled in the distance. but here, with you, the storm inside quieted, just a little. draco’s breaths were uneven, his chest rising and falling against yours, and yet he didn’t let go. he couldn’t.

“why?” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper, “why are you still here?”

you pulled back just enough to meet his watery grey eyes, your hands steady on his cheeks. “because you deserve someone who sees you, not just your mistakes.” your voice was gentle, but it carried an undeniable firmness, as though daring him to argue.

draco searched your face for deception, for pity, for anything he could use to push you away again. but there was nothing of the sort. only unwavering sincerity. it scared him more than he could admit.

“i don’t know how to—” draco started but faltered, his voice breaking under the weight of his words.

“you don’t have to know,” you interrupted softly. “you just have to try.”

for a long moment, neither of you moved. the sound of the rain and the distant thunder filled the silence, a natural rhythm grounding the both of you. then, as if testing the fragile hope in your words, draco’s hand slid hesitantly to yours, his fingers lacing with yours paired the faintest tremble.

you smiled, a small, sad thing that lit up the shadows in his heart. and in that moment, for the first time in years, draco malfoy allowed himself to believe that redemption wasn’t just a distant dream. it was here, in the warmth of your embrace, in the quiet assurance of your touch, and in the stormy night that began to feel just a little less cold.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[cherubimcore]

pairing: caracalla x fem!reader

warnings: suicidal ideation :)

part 1 | part 2 (you are here!)

the moon was shining bright in the sky when you woke up, guilt eating you alive, suddenly the comfortable bed you lay, felt too soft, soft enough to swallow you whole, the sirens and the phoenix you found so pretty on the frame now looked at you judgingly, everything felt too bright and too dark at the same time, too loud and too silent, you got up and looked around with your heart beating fast in your chest, your quarters felt wrong, or perhaps you were the one feeling wrong, your brain swirling and turning making you finally realize that even if every corner of the room gleamed, from the polished marble floor to the intricate mosaic ceiling that depicted the gods in all their splendor, this was still a cage, a gilded cage.

your head started to hurt, you cursed at yourself not even knowing why.

is it because the first genuine smile on your face in a long time was because of the comfort this room offered, only to be a very intricate and well thought prison? is it because, even for a split of a second, you felt you could have something good in your life even with all the blood on your hands? is it because you didn’t fight harder against the emperor's orders? trying to make them realize the monster they were putting inside their palace?

maybe everyone in your life was right, maybe death was the only way you could redeem yourself from all the pain you caused.

your chest tightens remembering the words of people you loved told you ever since your curse.

no, you couldn’t think of it right now, you needed to leave.

leave rome, leave this country, leave this world.

go anywhere where there isn’t a possibility that you could hurt someone else.

you got up quickly, almost falling from the bed directly to the floor.

you paced around the room trying to come up with a plan, the guards were your first obstacle. their rotations were predictable, but the sheer number of them posed a challenge. you moved to the balcony to observe their movements, noting the moments when their paths overlapped and when they left gaps in the palace defenses. this wasn’t a plan but was a start.

while slipping into a cloak you found around in the room you tried not to think what happened to the last person that stayed there, if they also had to leave in a hurry and left a perfectly good cloak laying around.

your hands clenched the bedsheets, they were going to be your makeshift rope to freedom, your heart pounded as you eased the doors to the balcony open, the cool night air biting at your skin, a shiver went down your spine but still you tied it to the balcony railing, after tugging the rope to test its strength, your gripped it tightly before throwing one leg over the railing.

you closed your eyes.

"i can do this," you whispered. "i have to."

you took a deep breath preparing yourself to jump from the balcony not really caring if you were wrong and the bedsheets wouldn’t bear your weight, a little part of you hoped it wouldn’t, you had convinced yourself that if that was the case you would be saving a lot of people from your curse, but you wanted to live, you wanted to fall in love...

the faint creak of your chamber door sent your heart into your throat.

you spun around, the rope slipping from your fingers, it’s tip landing on the garden beneath your window, standing in the doorway was a maid, her expression blank but her posture stiff with unease.

“emperor caracalla requests your presence in his chambers,” the maid said, her voice quiet but firm, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

you froze, your mind racing, trying to come up with an excuse but then the maid’s gaze flicked to the tied rope on the railing, then back to your face, partially obscured by the cloak, but she said nothing about it.

“now?” you asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“yes,” the maid replied, lowering her head slightly. “he insisted it be immediate.”

the walk to caracalla’s chambers was oppressive.

the maid led the way, her small lamp barely cutting through the darkness of the empty halls. your mind raced, your thoughts a storm of questions and curses. how much did caracalla know? was this just a coincidence, or had he been watching you all along? was this some sort of test? but why?

the door to his chambers loomed ahead, its polished wood inlaid with gold and carvings of mars and minerva locked in eternal battle. the maid hesitated at the threshold, glancing nervously at you before bowing her head. “he’s waiting inside.”

you didn’t reply, stepping past her and pushing open the heavy door.

caracalla’s chambers were as grand as you had expected. the scent of frankincense hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of wine. a fire crackled in the large hearth, its light casting long shadows over the rich, dark furnishings.

caracalla didn’t look up, swirling the contents of his goblet lazily in front of a fireplace. he was dressed more casually than earlier, his tunic loose, exposing the defined lines of his collarbone, that made him seem almost… human.

almost.

“come in,” he said without looking at you still, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

you hesitated at the threshold, your hand hovering over the ornate door frame. every instinct told you to run, but the maid’s lingering presence in the hall behind you was a reminder you had no choice.

caracalla’s eyes lifted to meet yours just for a second before looking at the fire once again, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “i won’t bite. not unless you ask.”

you stepped inside, the doors closing behind you with a soft thud that felt far too final.

“you called for me,” you said, your tone carefully neutral. “did you need something, emperor?”

“i was almost scared that you had died after sleeping for almost an entire day,” caracalla was seated near the hearth, his figure partially obscured by the high back of his chair. he turned slightly, just enough for you to catch the sharp cut of his profile. “or had already ran away”

your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to remain calm and stoic, it wasn’t possible for him to know already about your plan, the only person who seemed to know was the maid from earlier but it was impossible for her to say something to caracalla.

she could tell geta about it though.

a shiver ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you would rather geta or caracalla to know about your… exciting night.

“i didn’t realize my every move was of such interest to you,” you said, keeping your tone neutral.

his lips quirked into a faint smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “it is. everything about you is interesting.”

you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure how to respond.

“so, the famed venus’ wraith,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “come closer”

you hesitated but moved closer until you stood between him and the fireplace. his eyes finally met yours —piercing and unrelenting, as if he could see right through you.

“you seem unimpressed,” he noted, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk.

“i didn’t come here to impress you,” you replied evenly, surprising yourself with the steadiness of your voice.

his brows lifted slightly, intrigued. “no? and yet here you are, standing in my chambers, summoned by my word alone. tell me, does that not impress you?”

your jaw tightened. “i didn’t have much of a choice.”

caracalla chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “that’s where you’re wrong. there’s always a choice. you just don’t have the courage to do what you actually want.”

his words unsettled you, though you refused to let it show. you straighten your posture, meeting his gaze head-on. “if that’s why you called me here, to test my will, then i’d rather leave.”

“leave?” he rose from his chair slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring the tension in the room. he wasn't so tall, but was taller than you, making his presence consuming the space between you. “you’ve only just arrived. surely, you’re not eager to run already.”

“i don’t belong here,” she said firmly, though your voice wavered slightly.

“and where do you belong?” he countered, taking a step closer.

you didn’t answer. you couldn’t.

caracalla studied you for a moment, his smirk fading into something more contemplative. “the world out there isn’t kind to people like you. you’ve been gifted—or cursed, depending on how you see it—with something that others would kill to possess. staying here is the safest option. for now.”

“are you saying that to protect me or you want me to be your weapon instead of someone else’s?”

the room fell into silence once again, the crackle of the fire the only sound between you both.

“i don’t want to be a prisoner,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“you’re not,” he said firmly. “you’re a guest. a very valuable one.”

“am i free to leave then?” you challenged.

“no.” he answered in a heartbeat, taking a step away from you, looking everywhere but at your eyes.

your breath hitched, but you refused to look away. “then what is this, caracalla? am i your prisoner? or am i your new weapon? or you are trying to protect me? you can’t have all of those!”

his brow furrowed, but you pressed on, your voice gaining strength once again.

“i’m not stupid,” you said. “i know i’m here because of my curse, because of what I can do. but tell me, do you keep me locked in this palace to protect me from others? protect others from me? or are you simply waiting to find the best way to use me?”

caracalla’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. instead, he surprised you by letting out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“you think so little of me,” he said, his tone almost amused.

“i think of you exactly as you are,” you shot back. “a man who’s built his empire on conquest and blood. why should i believe i’m any different? that you wouldn’t turn me into another tool for rome’s glory?”

“you see yourself as a tool?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “funny. i see you as a flame—wild, untamed, and dangerous.”

your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression defiant. “you didn’t answer the question.”

caracalla stared at you for a long moment, “i won’t lie to you,” he said finally. “your gift makes you valuable. and yes, there are those in this palace who would see it used for rome’s benefit. but they don’t see what i see.”

“and what do you see?” you demanded.

“i see a woman who has spent her life fighting to survive,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “someone that was hated and cast aside for something she can’t control. someone that wishes to die so that she can’t endanger anyone else but also wishes to see everyone that wronged her burn in tartarus”

his words hit harder than you expected, and you hated how they made your chest tighten.

“you didn’t answer my question,” you repeated, your voice faltering slightly.

“if leaving is what you truly want, i won’t stop you,” he said. “but tell me this—what are you running from? because i don’t think it’s me.”

the question struck a chord deep within you, one you hadn’t expected. you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“i would never hurt…” you tried once again taking a deep breath “i would never hurt anyone willingly, i’m not like you”

“if you are not running from those destructive thoughts on the little head of yours” he tilted his head “what are you running from?”

“i don’t want to hurt people!”

“yet, you decided that you wanted to get out of the most safe place you could ever be, both from you and everyone else,” he laughed. “why?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “you don’t know me.”

“don’t i?” his gaze bore into yours, a predator’s patience evident in his stance. “you’re holding onto something, a fire that only grows hotter the more you try to suppress it.”

you shook your head, laughing bitterly. “you’re delusional.”

“and you’re lying,” he countered smoothly, stepping closer once again. his voice dropped, becoming softer, more dangerous. “you want to see them pay. every single one who wronged you, betrayed you, tried to destroy you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “revenge doesn’t fix anything. it only breeds more pain.”

caracalla tilted his head, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “perhaps. but pain is power when wielded correctly.”

you turned away, staring at the fireplace “i’m not like you, caracalla.”

“no,” he agreed, taking a few steps to stand next to you, he was also staring at the fire, you wish you could know what he was thinking just like he knew your own soul and thoughts. “you’re not. you’re better. which is why it amuses me that you fight so hard to deny yourself.”

your breath hitched, but you refused to look at him.

“deny what?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

“that you want them to pay,” he said, his tone almost gentle now. “and that deep down, you know you deserve to see it.”

you wanted to refute him, to tell him he was wrong, that he doesn’t know you.

but you couldn’t.

caracalla, sensing your silence as a victory, said “you don’t have to admit it, but you’ll see it eventually. when the time comes, i wonder... will you embrace it?”

you wanted to deny him, to prove him wrong. but the flicker of fire in your chest told you that, perhaps, you couldn’t.

[mylovesstuffs]

After Hours - Jeon Wonwoo

Synopsis: What begins as a quiet evening of work escalates once again into a heated encounter that blurs the lines with your coworker. Too used to this but will it ever be something more than a casual play?

Genre: Romance, erotica, office au, dominant/submissive, power dynamics, coworkers with benefits. little bit of angst if you squint and mutual pining

Pairing: Wonwoo × fem!reader

WC: 3.5k+

Warnings: Contains smut MDNI!, no protection mentioned (please be safe y'all), explicit sexual content, BDSM themes (power play, dominance/submissiveness), explicit language, non-consensual themes (light) not proofread

The office was empty, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft glow of desk lamps scattered around the open floor. You sat at your desk, hunched over your MacBook, fingers flying across the keyboard as you tried to meet a looming deadline.

"Still here?" The low voice startled you. You looked up to find Wonwoo standing near the doorway, his tie slightly loosened, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked impossibly good, his dark brown eyes met yours, and you felt that familiar twist in your stomach.

"Deadline," you muttered, gesturing vaguely at your screen, "What about you? Thought you'd left hours ago."

He shrugged, stepping closer until he leaned against the edge of your desk. "Couldn't leave knowing you were still here. Thought you might need company."

The way he looked at your face, you couldn’t help but think about it again—the thing you tried not to dwell on too much. Why him? Or rather, why you? Wonwoo was the kind of guy who could walk into a room and have people eating out of the palm of his hand without even trying. Women drooled; men envied. He could have anyone exclusively, probably someone more polished, more glamorous. Someone who didn’t forget their lunch at home three days a week or spend weekends rewatching the same Netflix shows.

So why this? Why you? Why do your occasional late-night encounters blurred the lines between colleagues and something...more? It didn’t make sense to you.

And yet, here you were.

At first, you’d kept it casual—just two adults scratching an itch. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t expect anything beyond the arrangement you had going on. But you weren’t stupid. You knew you’d fallen for him somewhere along the way. Maybe it was the way he kissed you, like he wasn’t just after the moment but after you. Or the way he remembered the smallest details—how you liked your coffee, the way you bit your lip when you were stressed. It wasn’t just sex, though that certainly didn’t hurt.

It was how he made you feel, like every inch of you was worth his time and attention. How he touched you like your body was something to be cherished, not just used. He was warm, attentive, and so damn caring in a way that was completely unexpected for someone who usually kept people at arm’s length.

And then there were the moments that caught you off guard—the way he’d adjust your blanket when you dozed off on the couch, or the time he brought you soup when you were too sick to function. Those were the moments that stayed with you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself this was just a casual thing.

But of course, you still had your doubts. You’d think, Why the hell does someone like him want anything to do with someone like me? Then he’d show up at your door with, kiss you like you were the only person in the world, and you’d think, Maybe I’m overthinking this.

You snorted softly to his response. "And what if I don't?"

His lips curved into a small smile. "Then I'll stay anyway."

There it was again—that warmth, that care. Whatever these coworkers with benefits thing was, whatever it meant, you weren’t sure you’d ever figure it out. But for now, you’d let yourself get lost in him just a little longer. The room felt smaller with him this close, his subtle cologne blending with the faint scent of coffee lingering from earlier. His gaze flicked to the papers scattered across your desk.

"You work too hard," he murmured, his voice dipping.

"I could say the same about you," you shot back, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened when his fingers brushed yours as he picked up a pen.

Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. Wonwoo tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning your face as though searching for something. "You should take a break," he said, he is quieter now.

"And do what?"

His answer came not in words but in action. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. Before you could react, his lips were on yours, soft and unhurried. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to your waist, pulling you to your feet. The edge of the desk pressed against your thighs as he nudged you closer, his other hand tangling in your hair.

"Wonwoo," you breathed against his lips, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice rough with need.

His lips trailed down your jaw, to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You tilted your head, giving him access, a soft moan escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your skin.

"Here?" you asked, a mix of nerves and excitement in your voice.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk laced with mischief. "Here."

His hands found the hem of your blouse, slipping beneath to caress the bare skin of your waist and then your breasts over your bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, followed quickly by your skirt. His lips never left yours, his touch exploring, claiming.

Wonwoo lifted you onto the desk effortlessly, his own shirt discarded in the process. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat of his body as he settled between your thighs, his kisses growing more urgent.

When his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, you couldn't stop the gasp that escaped you. His touch was firm yet teasing, drawing sounds from you that you didn't think you were capable of making.

"Wonwoo, please," you whimpered, your hands gripping his forearms as he worked you over with a precision that left you trembling.

You inhaled sharply as his fingers tugged at the lace, pausing to look into his eyes. He held your gaze, his eyes filled with an intent. As the lace slid down your thighs, he whispered, "Lift your legs." You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted as he asked, his voice low and commanding. "Arms up." You complied, arching your back slightly as he slowly removed the flimsy barrier between you. He tossed it aside, his eyes locked onto yours as he spread your legs wider.

Now that you're fully naked, he pulled you more closer, his eyes blazing that made you feel utterly exposed yet adored. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with reverence. His hands traced the curve of your nude waist and breasts, his gaze following every inch of your body as though committing it to memory. "So perfect... you don't even realize, do you?"

The room was filled with the sound of your shallow breaths as he hovered above you this time laying you down on the desk, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His lips trailed over your breasts to collarbone, hot and deliberate, as he whispered into your ear, "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

You nodded, your words failing as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear. "That's right," he said, smirking against your skin. "I don't want a sound unless I ask for it. Understand?"

His hands slid lower to your vagina, teasing the edge of your patience, deliberately brushing but not giving you what you craved. Your whimper earned a dark chuckle. "Already desperate, are we?" His fingers grazed the most delicate part of the entrance, his touch featherlight feeling you're already being wet for him. "I don't think you've earned it yet"

His fingers trailed through your folds, gathering your wetness before circling your entrance again. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a whimper as he teased you. Suddenly, he thrust two fingers inside you, his palm pressing against your clit. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice strained with desire. You complied again.

His fingers moved skillfully, hitting just your clit back and forth. Your breath hitched, eyes hazy with pleasure. "Wonwoo..." you gasped trying to not make a sound, fingers digging into his shoulders for support.

He pressed closer, his lips tracing your neck while maintaining that steady rhythm. "What do you need?" as he cups one of your breasts. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, his breathing becoming more ragged "Tell me what you want," he groaned softly against your neck, teeth grazing your skin "Do you want me to..." his fingers curved deeper, hitting just the G-spot "Should I keep going?"

"Yes, please," you managed to respond.

"You want me to actually fuck you now?" He asked, voice low and husky, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers continued their relentless pace, driving you closer to the edge. He nipped at your earlobe, pinched your nipple, his other hand gripping your ass. You nodded.

But he didn't give you what you wanted yet. He edged you mercilessly, his movements calculated to pull you to the brink, only to deny you the release you desperately sought.

"That's it, take it," he murmured, his tone shifting. "Pathetic how you fall apart so easily under my hands. You love this, don't you?" Your body trembled beneath him as he leaned closer, "Say it," he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you," you stammered, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

The office faded away-the desk, the papers, the deadlines. There was only Wonwoo, his breath hot against your skin, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"That's right," he said, his touch finally intensifying, sending shockwaves through your body. "And you'll come when I let you, not a second before." Just as he said that, his name left your lips in a broken moan as he finally pushed you over the edge, your release shattering you as he held you firmly in place.

He glared down at you, his fingers still buried inside, trembling your pussy. "You fucking disobedient little cunt," he spat, his voice cold with anger. "I told you not to come until I said so, and you just couldn't fucking wait, could you?" Wonwoo's hand tightened on your thigh, keeping you pinned on the desk as he leaned in closer. "You think you can just take what you want without earning it?" he growled, his fingers curling inside you, making your legs tremble anew.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, leaving you feeling empty as a punishment. His hand moved to grip your chin, tilting your face up so your eyes met his. "If you want to be treated like a good girl, you better start acting like one," he hissed, his gaze cold but laced with the faintest hint of hunger.

With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he leaned back, undoing his belt with maddening slowness. "I should leave you like this," he mused, dragging the leather through the loops. "Desperate, dripping, and begging for me. But I'm not that cruel."

He kicked a nearby chair back and sat down, gesturing with two fingers for you to kneel in front of him. "Now, get down here and make it up to me," he commanded, his voice calm but brooking no argument. "If you're good enough, maybe I'll consider giving you what you so clearly can't stop thinking about."

You swallowed hard, your body trembling as you slid off to the floor and sank to your knees in front of him. His eyes followed your every movement, dominating you.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back, spreading his legs wider. "Show me just how sorry you are."

Your hands moved to his pant, and with a shaky exhale, you pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock. No matter how many more times you've seen his hard cock before, the sight made your cheeks flush, but you were too far gone to feel embarrassment.

Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you glanced up through your lashes for approval. He nodded, his hand resting lazily on the arm of the chair. "Don't tease," he warned.

You leaned forward, your lips parting as you took his dick into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip. A low groan escaped him, his hips shifting slightly as he buried a hand in your hair, guiding your movements.

"Good girl," he muttered, his grip tightening just enough to remind you who was still in control. "Now, don't stop until I say so."

You obeyed, your pace steady and deliberate, taking him deeper with each motion. His groans grew louder, his control slipping as you worked him over with desperation. Suddenly, he tugged on your hair, pulling you off of him. You gasped, your lips swollen and glistening as you looked up at him, confused and needy.

"Not so fast," he said with lust. "You don't get to decide when this ends. Get back on the desk."

You scrambled to obey, your body trembling as you climbed back onto the desk and laid back, spreading your legs for him. His smirk returned as he stood, positioning himself between your thighs.

"Now, you'll learn to follow my rules," he growled, gripping your hips as he thrust into you without warning, his movements rough and demanding.

The desk creaked beneath you, your cries filling the room as he took you with relentless precision. He leaned over you, groping your breasts hard, "Shut the fuck up," he growled, his hand tangling in your hair as he drove you closer to the edge.

Your fingernails dragged down his back as you arched into him, whimpering, "You feel so... good," you managed to gasp out, legs wrapping tighter around him, urging him deeper.

"You're just a fucking tight little cunt, aren't you?" He spat, his voice dripping with contempt as he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream. "You love being stuffed full of my dick, don't you? You love being used like a cheap fucktoy."

When he finally let you come, his name tore from your lips like a prayer, your body trembling beneath him. He followed moments later, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep inside, groaning your name. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice breaking as he reached his own release, his forehead pressed against yours.

And for the first time that night, you forgot about work.

You'd always known Wonwoo was reserved, composed. But just like tonight, every other night— he'd always show you a side of him others would've never seen before, a side that made you wonder what other surprises he was hiding.

Afterward, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing softly against your temple. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice gentle now. "But don't think I'll let you off so easily next time."

He held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as your breathing slowed, the tension between you was replaced by a comfortable warmth.

As the haze of passion began to fade, a soft silence settled between you. Wonwoo cradled you against his chest, one hand brushing through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart against your ear lulled you into a nice sense of peace.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble that reverberated through you.

You nodded, nuzzling into him. "Yeah. Just... tired.

His lips pressed against the crown of your head in an affectionate kiss. "I figured. I didn't even go that hard on you"

You just rolled your eyes, too happy to shot bak. He shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms despite your half-hearted protests. "Wonwoo, I can walk!"

"Shh,his tone leaving no room for argument. "You've done enough for today. Let me take care of you."

He carried you to the small couch in the corner of the office, sitting you down carefully before draping his discarded shirt over your shoulders. His fingers worked deftly to smooth your hair, his touch tender in a way that made your chest ache. "You rest for a bit," he said, crouching in front of you. His dark eyes softened as they met yours. "I'll clean up."

Before you could protest again, he stood and began gathering your scattered clothes, folding them neatly on the desk. He retrieved a bottle of water from a nearby mini-fridge, twisting the cap off before handing it to you.

"Drink," he commanded gently.

You complied, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Watching him move around the room with such quiet efficiency sent a wave of warmth through you. It was a side of him you always saw-nurturing, attentive, and deeply considerate.

Once everything was tidied up, Wonwoo returned to your side, his hands sliding beneath your knees and shoulders. You squeaked in surprise as he lifted you again.

"Wonwoo!"

"You need to clean up properly," he said simply, carrying you to the small restroom attached to the office.

He set you down carefully on the counter, his hands lingering at your waist as if to steady you. Grabbing a clean towel from the cabinet, he wet it under the tap and began gently wiping your face, neck and thighs. His touch was uncharacteristically soft, his movements precise as he took care to ensure your comfort.

"Thank you," you whispered, your cheeks warming under his gaze.

He smiled faintly, something unspoken passing between you. "You don't have to thank me. Just...stop overworking yourself, okay?"

You nodded, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at your heartstrings.

Once you were clean and dressed again, Wonwoo slipped his blazer around your shoulders. "Let's get you home," he said.

The drive was quiet, the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires gliding over the wet pavement filling the silence between you and Wonwoo. His blazer felt warm and comforting around your shoulders, carrying a faint scent of his cologne-woodsy, with a hint of spice. You found yourself fiddling with the edge of the sleeve absentmindedly, stealing occasional glances at him.

Wonwoo's hands rested firmly on the steering wheel, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline and the faint crease of concentration on his brow. You wanted to say everything you guys have done so far, but the words seemed to catch in your throat.

"You okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence without taking his eyes off the road.

You nodded, then realized he couldn't see you. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just the fact that you care even though we're not...exclusive."

He glanced at you briefly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a subtle smile. "I just did what anyone would do."

"No," you said firmly, shifting slightly in your seat to face him. "Not everyone would've. And definitely not the way you did" You stopped for a brief second and then continued, "Nobody would check up on me after meetings, dump all their deadlines on me, and leave me alone after having sex."

He didn't respond immediately but his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a fraction, as if your words had unsettled something within him. After a moment, he sighed quietly. "I couldn't just leave you there."

The weight in his voice surprised you. It made you wonder what he was thinking, what he wasn't saying. You wanted to press further, to ask why he cared so much, but the vulnerability in his tone held you back.

"Thank you, Wonwoo," you said again, more softly this time.

He glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than before, as if searching for something in your expression. "You don't need to thank me."

The rest of the drive passed in a companionable silence. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, he turned off the engine and stepped out before you could object. Rounding the car, he opened your door and offered you a hand.

"Can you make it upstairs on your own?" he asked. You hesitated, then nodded.

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, then let out a small sigh. "Alright. But call me if you need anything. I mean it."

You nodded again, clutching his blazer tightly around you. "I will."

As you turned to go, he called out softly, "Wait."

You paused, glancing back at him. He took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop you, but he quickly pulled it back. "Don't forget the blazer," he said instead, his voice lighter, almost teasing.

You smiled faintly, slipping it off your shoulders and holding it out to him. "Thanks again, Wonwoo."

He accepted it with a small nod, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you echoed, stepping inside the building. As the elevator doors closed, you found a text.

Let's stop playing around—just us?

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 8

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hi lovelies! Plz don’t forget to like & rb. It means the world to me! :)

Remy’s POV

“Look at you. You don’t even respect your fucking self, man.” Billie mumbled, barely making any sense. Her eyes looked angry, bothered, annoyed. It wasn’t her.

“Let’s go home, you’re drunk as fuck. You don’t mean that.”

She swayed to the bass in place, slightly nodding her head to the beat. I didn’t even notice how much time had passed, standing there awkwardly to the side of the dance floor. Finneas came up to us. He had probably seen her yank her arm away and wondered what was going on.

“Let’s head out. She’s had too much.” I pointed towards the exit.

He took one look at her and nodded, calling the car out to the front.

“No! Fuck it, I do mean it. You’re too fucking scared to take a risk, so you keep sitting in your fucking office hoping one day you’ll do more than shred paper.”

That stung. I ignored her as Finneas and Claudia began to walk her outside. I wasn’t much of a help since I was struggling on my feet too.

“When I get back, you’ll be right where I left you. You’re not gonna go anywhere working for a fucking pig like him.”

“Is that what you think, Billie? What else?” I knew it wasn’t a good idea to argue back, but I didn’t care what state of mind she was in. I couldn’t believe she was saying any of this to me.

“Let’s just get in the car, Rem. She’s too fucked up, she doesn’t know what-“ Claudia shook her head.

“No! I’m not! And I’d like to- I want you to know I’m so serious. You let everyone treat you like shit! Your fucking ex, your boss, your parents!” She pointed.

“Shut up, Billie! Stop talking!” I put her seatbelt on her, struggling to put the buckle in the hole the first few times as Finneas drove off.

“Who took care of you when that motherfucker left you for another bitch?! Who lived with you and held you all day and night, and fed you, and made you whole again?” She shouted, scrambling her words, closing her eyes for emphasis.

“You want to throw that in my face now?” I was pissed. How dare she bring that up. There was no need to be that petty. I didn’t understand what brought this on her. She had never said anything so mean before. I knew it was the alcohol talking, but this hurt deep.

“And now! You’re just gonna leave me!” She pointed her finger.

“Leave you? Like you said, I’m not going anywhere! You’re the one leaving me!”

“She doesn’t mean any of this Rem, just ignore her.” Finneas reassured me, trying to deescalate the situation.

“No, say how you really feel, Billie!” I looked at her, squinting.

“You don’t believe in your fucking self! You beg me to believe in you, when you won’t even give yourself a fucking chance!” Her eyes closed as she tried to be louder.

“Oh, is that why you boss me around and tell me what to do with my life? Because you think I could do so much better being your fucking groupie?” I snapped back.

“You might as well be my fucking groupie! Better than being assistant TO the groupie!”

“You wish! So I could clap for you and gas you up every night? Like everyone else does?” I shouted back.

“Well, it’d be nice to have you be there for me once in a while, instead of putting work first like you always do!” Billie crossed her arms.

“You KNOW I can’t just do that!”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. You just wanna stay there and be a martyr so you can have something to complain about!”

“OH! So now I bitch about everything! I thought I kept things to myself and didn’t accept people’s help? Which one is it, Billie?”

“Whatever dude, you wanna be a sexy little office receptionist, and bend over for some bald fuck, and write some bullshit on a magazine, when you know you want to do more with your life.” She waved her hand around, her eyeliner running a little on the corner of her eyes.

“No, that’s your girlfriend Rachel! Weren’t you the one trying to suck her dick so she’d let me hop on a damn column?”

“I was trying to help you, dumbass!”

“I was trying to hang out with my best fucking friend before she travels the world for, like, a year!”

“Right! That’s why you wanted to get fucking wasted tonight! So you wouldn’t even remember our last night together.” Billie got teary eyed, blinking away her anger. “I didn’t even want to drink tonight!”

“No one forced you! You got all weird when that guy talked to me, and you shoved 2 shots consecutively up your ass!”

Claudia looked at Finneas. They shared a look and I wondered what that was about. He turned the corner toward my apartment and turned on his hazard lights.

“No one is concerned with who you wanna make out with, Remy!” She mumbled.

“Except you, because you act like my damn mother anytime anyone even looks at me!” I pointed at her. She stared at my finger, looking nauseous.

“Maybe if you had better judgment I wouldn’t have to fucking-“

“Whatever bro! You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life! And when you get back, you’ll see how fucking wrong you are! And how shitty of a fucking friend-“

“Shitty friend?? Because I want better for you?!” She leaned forward.

“You wouldn’t even know what being wrong feels like! Everyone always tells Billie Eilish yes!” I said, immediately feeling terrible. Immediately feeling like I crossed a line. But she had crossed multiple already.

Her face turned a shade of hurt I hadn’t seen before.

“No, fuck that! Fuck you, Remy!” She yelled.

“Fuck you, too!” I open the door and slam it, walking out before the car was even in park. Finneas fully stopped the car and ran out. He walked me to the door as I keyed in the code.

“I wanna make sure you get inside safely.” He held the door open for me when it unlocked. “God, I’m sorry, that was a lot.”

I held back tears and rubbed my arms, feeling the midnight breeze give me goosebumps before quickly walking in.

“She’s definitely not in the right mindset and I really don’t think she meant to be that-“

“Honest?” I asked, tears starting to stream down my face. “I think she did.” I called the elevator, pressing the button 18 times.

“Remy, she loves you. More than you think. You’re everything to- She just-“

“It doesn’t matter, Finneas. That fucking hurt. Drunk or not.“ I stepped into the elevator as the door slid open.

“Please, Rem. Listen, I know she was pushing it. I’m not gonna make excuses-“ He was visibly frustrated, pushing his hair back as he spoke. “And trust me, she’s going to feel like such a dick tomorrow-“

“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it anymore from-“

The elevator door began to slide, when he stuck his hand in the way to stop it from closing. “Promise me you’ll see her tomorrow before she leaves for tour.” He looked serious, as if it would change anything. As if seeing her tomorrow would make it hurt any less.

I didn’t say anything. I just leaned back on the elevator wall, crossing my arms.

“Please. Think about it… I’m sorry, Remy. Have a good night.” He nodded, removing his hand and letting the door shut. My heart dropped as the elevator rose to the 5th floor.

In my apartment, I got ready for bed and threw myself into the pillows. My head spun and throbbed as the effects of alcohol slowly left my body. I knew everything would hurt tomorrow morning. I stared at my ceiling, hoping to fall asleep. I thought about Billie’s face when she said those things. When she told me I’d stay exactly where she left me. How can I give up all the hard work I’ve put in. I wonder if she was ever proud of me. I wonder if she knows how much I care about what she thinks of me. I thought about her face when I practically told her she doesn’t know what no means. I thought about her face when she told me “fuck you”. I wonder if tomorrow she’ll be hurting about all this as much as I am right now. We’d never spoken to each other like this before. It felt like she wanted to say more than she actually did…

Eventually my eyelids became heavy, and I drifted into a deep, deep sleep.

******

My eyelids slowly blinked open, staring at my wall. I groaned, stretching and turning on my other side. The light from my window was so uncalled for, causing me to squint and curl up into a ball. My head pounded, reminding me of the events last night.

“Oh shit.” I gasped, grabbing my phone faster than my brain could register. It was 1:02pm and a missed call from Billie displayed on my screen. I put my passcode in, messing up twice before finally being able to call back. The phone rang for a while. I sat up in bed, impatiently. No answer. I had overslept and didn’t have a chance to say good bye before she left on the tour bus. She was probably so angry at me. I remembered how much she hurt me last night, the words all freshly dancing around in my mind. I didn’t know what to make of it, but clearly she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I figured if she did, she’d call back.

I threw my phone at the foot of the bed and pulled the covers over my head, wishing away the awful headache. I closed my eyes and tried my best to fall back asleep so I didn’t have to think. Obviously, that didn’t work out. My brain wanted to walk me through the least blurry bits of our fight instead.

I threw the covers off and got up, going straight for the medicine cabinet and taking some Advil, dry. I rotted into the couch for the rest of the day, watching the tv show I wasn’t allowed to watch without her. I don’t know if I did it out of spite or to feel close to her. I’m sure she’ll be watching it without me anyway.

Each time I checked my phone for any calls or texts, my stomach did this weird flip thing. I waited all day to receive anything from her to no avail.

Around 8pm, I realize I haven’t had a bite to eat. As I put some almond butter toast on a plate, my phone dinged. I pulled it out of my pocket to see Billie had posted on instagram. An update to her fans letting them know she was on the road, and excited to see them in Quebec, Canada.

I made it a point to like the insta story post, so she knows that I know she’s ignoring me. This is bullshit, I thought. How petty, I thought, the irony going straight over my head.

[aquamarixx]

yours to keep

when Sanzu Haruchiyo decides you're his and he’s never letting go, you realize his “love” is all consuming and possessive, and there’s no escaping his tight grip MINORS DO NOT INTERACT pairing sanzu haruchiyo x reader word count 2.9k words content warning yandere sanzu haruchiyo, mentions of murder, hurt/comfort, nsfw, smut, overstimulation, unprotected sex, not proofread navigation

You sighed as you grabbed your bag and stepped out of your office building, ready to call it a day. it had been a long, stressful week and the last think you need was to deal with anything outside your regular work drama.

The cool evening breeze hit your face as you glanced around, pulling your coat tighter around you. Lately, you’d been feeling... off. Like someone was always watching. You chalked it up to paranoia, all thanks to the man you never expected to cross paths with, Sanzu Haruchiyo.

“Hi.” A voice interrupted your thoughts. Turning, you saw him—a senior from accounting. He was standing so close you can see a faint blush on his face. He was smiling, polite but persistent, as he leaned in slightly.

“It’s late,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Do you need a ride? I can give you a lift.”

You forced a polite smile, taking a small step back. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“Aww, come on. It’s not safe for someone like you to be out alone.” His concern carried an undertone of persistence.

A nervous laugh escaped you. “I’m actually... waiting for someone.”

He frowned, his disbelief clear. “Your boyfriend?” He scoffed, glancing to the side. “You’ve been using that excuse forever, but no one’s ever seen the guy.”

Before you could respond, the atmosphere shifted. A presence loomed behind you, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was—the sharp scent of cologne and the oppressive weight of his gaze were unmistakable.

The accounting guy felt it too, his posture stiffening as he stepped back.

“Didn’t know you talked about me at work, princess.”

There was a teasing tone in Sanzu’s voice, amused even, but you could feel the deadly edge to it that made your blood run cold. His arm snakes around your waist casually, pulling you against him as he plants a chaste kiss on top of your head.

If you weren’t in this situation, you would’ve swatted Sanzu but his grip was tight and you could feel the other guy shrinking under Sanzu’s intense gaze.

Your colleague’s eyes darted between you and Sanzu. The contrast was stark: where you wore professional office attire, Sanzu was dressed in a perfectly tailored purple vest over a crisp white shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a hint of ink curling around his forearms. His pink hair was slicked back, highlighting the sharp piercings that gleamed under the streetlights.

So yeah, it was a pretty intimidating sight.

“You were saying?” He finally address your colleague, not even sparing him a moment’s time as he begins to take your bag off of your hands before handing you a small bouquet of roses.

“I—uh...” The accountant stammered, his words faltering. Without another word, he muttered an apology and practically bolted down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

You turned to Sanzu, crossing your arms defensively. The bouquet he’d handed you hung awkwardly in one hand as you glared up at him. “What are you doing here, Sanzu?”

“What does it look like?” He smirked, guiding you toward the curb. “Making sure no one bothers my girl.”

“I’m not your girl,” you snapped. You could already picture the rumors this scene would spark—your mafia-looking “boyfriend” scaring off a perfectly decent coworker. Or worse, stories that would chip away at the careful, low-profile image you’d cultivated at work. So much for staying lowkey.

Sanzu chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, but I am yours, princess. Whether you like it or not.”

“Also you just can’t show up and scare people off like that!” Sanzu’s grin widened. You sighed in exasperation you tug his sleeves down, covering the tattoos that marked him as Bonten’s second-in-command. He let you fuss over him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

it was absurd—this deadly man letting you manhandle him in your heels and pencil skirt. But that glint in his gaze told you he enjoyed every second of it.

“I can, and I will. Shall we?” Before you could argue, he grabbed your wrist, his firm grip but not painful, as he led you to his car. He opened the door for you, and you slid into the passenger seat. You know better than to argue with him, especially in public.

As you reached for the seatbelt, Sanzu leaned in, close enough that his breath fanned your cheek. His long lashes fluttered as he snapped the buckle into place. He lingered, his lips curling into that signature smirk that made your stomach flip in ways you’d rather not admit.

“Ready, princess?”

The ride to his apartment was tense, his hands not leaving your thighs as he drove. Sanzu hums an upbeat tune, making you wonder what’s going on in his head. 

This wasn’t your first visit to his apartment. The first time had been unexpected, under the guise of paying him back for saving your brother’s sorry ass. You’d feared the worst, but Sanzu hadn’t demanded anything more than your company.

Inside his apartment, he was unexpectedly... kind. Cooking for you, sharing quiet moments on the couch, even letting you play with his hair. The intimacy never crossed boundaries—cuddling, whispered conversations in the dark, stolen touches when you were at your most vulnerable. It felt... strange.

It’s a weird relationship, if you can call it that. And you hate to admit how you let Sanzu to squeeze into your life. as if this dangerous man fits into your quiet, mundane life.

Once inside, the door clicked shut behind you, and before you could take a step further, Sanzu was there. His hands cupped your face, his touch paradoxically soft despite the tension radiating from him.

His gaze locked onto yours, a turbulent mix of emotions flickering in those eyes—something unreadable, restrained, and raw.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was no malice in it.

Your breath hitched as his thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, his touch gentle but possessive. The warmth of his palms against your skin made your pulse race. Damn him for knowing how to unravel you so effortlessly.

"I’m not sure what you’re talking about..." You started, your voice unsteady, but he leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours.

“I get jealous, princess. You know that, don’t you? It eats at me—watching people think they have a shot with you.” His voice dropped, dangerous and raw. “They don’t, right?”

You hesitated, your fingers fumbling with his tie. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t have a chance. Say it.”

You softly hum instead of answering, not really sure what to say.

The silence stretched, and Sanzu’s jaw clenched. Not satisfied with your silence, he pulls you towards him. He leads the two of you to the couch where she sinks into. The next thing you know, he pulls you onto his lap, his hands trembling slightly as he takes of your coat . The usual cocky arrogance is replaced by a pained, desperate look on his face.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice cracking. His eyes locked onto yours, intense and unyielding. “You just don’t know it yet.”

“We’re not—”

“No.” His voice was sharp, cutting off your protest. He shook his head, desperation bleeding into his tone. “Don’t. Don’t ruin this.” You never heard him so pained, as if your denying him the air he needs to breathe.

before you could respond, he kissed you again, his desperation bleeding into every moment. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if trying to become a part of you.

“You’re all I think about.” he confessed, his voice cracking, “Every second of every day. You’re in my head, under my skin. everywhere. And it’s killing me, the thought of someone else even looking at you like I do.”

The unexpected vulnerability stunned you into silence, your body frozen beneath his. This wasn’t the smug, self-assured man you thought you knew. This was someone broken, someone desperate, someone who would do anything to keep you by his side.

“Sanzu…” you whispered, but he cut you off again, his voice softening as his forehead pressed against yours.

“No, you don’t get to say my name like that and think you can leave me.” His lips brushed yours, the touch feather-light but brimming with intent. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured, though even you weren’t sure if it was a promise or a lie.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice breaking. “Don’t say it unless you mean it, because if you try to leave me…” His grip on you tightened, almost trembling. “I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

His lips trailed down your neck, grazing your collarbone. “I’d do anything for you,” he breathed. “Kill for you. Die for you. Burn the goddamn world to ashes if I have to.”

His hands slid up your back, pulling you even closer as he tilted his his head to deepen the kiss. his tongue swept the insides of your mouth, commanding, leaving no room for protest. you could only moan against him as it left you breathless.

“I'll show you” his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver.

“I'll make you feel it—every inch of what you do to me.”

He shifted beneath you, pressing you harder against his lap. The hardness beneath you was impossible to ignore, the friction sending a wave of heat surging through you. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and Sanzu smirked at your reaction in smug satisfaction.

And you couldn’t stop. Your hips started moving to its own accord, grinding desperately against him, in a maddeningly slow rhythm. It built a pleasant yet demanding heat in your stomach. At this point, you’re the first one to give in, knowing how this isn’t enough to satisfy you.

You gave in first, leaning into him, your lips crashing onto his in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. The next thing you know, your shirt and lace bra is on the floor and so is his. His hands found your thighs, sliding your skirt higher as you straddled him, your panties the last flimsy barrier. Sanzu groaned, low and guttural, as he freed himself, his hard length pressing against you.

He lifted you just enough to push your panties aside, his movements deliberate yet trembling with restraint. Slowly, he lowered you onto him, his length stretching and filling you inch by inch. The sensation stole the breath from your lungs, a silent moan parting your lips as you steadied yourself on his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips tightly. His patience frayed as he pressed you down onto him, bottoming out with a sharp thrust that sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

He guided your movements, slow and deliberate, grinding against you in a way that made your toes curl. “You’re mine, princess. No one else gets to touch you like this. No one else gets to make you feel like this.”

As soon as Sanzu felt you grind against him, his hands slids up to your breasts, cupping them. He rolled the sensitive tips between his fingers, his eyes focused on your reactions. Your breath became quicker, your nipples hardening under his touch.

He brings his mouth to your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before sucking gently, making your head tilt back in pleasure. A soft hmm vibrates from you as you tilt your head back, biting back a moan from coming out as your eyes flutter shut ever so slightly. His hands gripped your hips again, bouncing you on his lap, his thrusts growing frantic, desperate. One hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in slow, torturous circles.

“Ohgodohgod, don’t stop.” Your words come out breathlessly, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“Say my name,” he rasped, his lips moving against your collarbone, his voice thick with need. “Say it. Please. Let me hear you.”

“H-Haruchiyo,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as your hips moved with his, chasing your climax. His movements slowed down, just before you could tip over the edge, and you let out a frustrated whimper while you glare at him.

“Please,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, his voice tinged with desperation. “Say it again, princess. Let me make you feel good. I can make you feel good whenever you want. J-just stay with me. Use me. I’m yours.”

The vulnerability in his words shattered you. Heat coursed through your body, your walls tightening around him as you surrendered to the moment. “Haruchiyo,” you whimpered, softer this time, your voice trembling as you looked into his eyes.

His gaze burned into yours, filled with an unrestrained hunger and something deeper—devotion. He took your hand, pressing it to his face, his lips kissing your palm with fervor. “Tell me what you want, princess. Let me give it to you.”

You bit your lip, your voice barely a whisper. “M-make me feel good.”

A wild, desperate light flickered in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. He spread your legs wide, pressing them to your chest as he loomed over you, his body trembling with restraint. The sight of him—sweaty, disheveled, his face twisted in need—left you breathless.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, angling himself at your dripping entrance, teasing you with the head of his length. Slowly, torturously, he thrust into you, filling you completely before pulling out and slamming back in. Each movement was deliberate, every thrust desperate to claim you.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice cracking as his pace quickened. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine. Please.”

Each thrust sent you spiraling closer to the edge, the pain and pleasure blurring together into something intoxicating. “I-I’m yours,” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as your body arched beneath him.

Sanzu groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he buried himself deeper with each thrust. “Never leave me. Promise me, princess. I’ll do anything for you. Anything. Just don’t let go.” His voice broke with emotion, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

The line between pleasure and pain blurred as the relentless rhythm of his hips pushed you closer to the edge. He continued to thumb your clit, sending jolts of electricity shooting through your body. You were a whimpering mess, hips squirming under him, but Sanzu wasn’t letting go—not when you were this close.

“Let go for me,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading as his thrusts slowed. His thumb, however, sped up, swirling faster over your sensitive clit. Your body arched instinctively, the intensity nearly too much to bear, but his free hand held you firm. He grounded you beneath him, his touch unyielding, his need to see you unravel almost feral.

“Come on, princess. Let me have it. Let me make you feel good,” he coaxed, his tone softening but never losing its edge of desperation. Your breath hitched, and a broken sob escaped your lips as the coil inside you snapped. The release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling violently. A high-pitched moan spilled from your lips, echoing through his apartment as your hands grappled at the couch for support.

Sanzu groaned at the sight of you, utterly undone beneath him. His pace quickened as he lifted your hips, his movements bordering on frantic as he chased his own high. The overstimulation left you gasping, your body writhing as he thrust into you.

“Fuck, princess,” he rasped, his voice barely audible as he pulled out at the last moment. He came with a shudder, his release spilling across your stomach in warm, messy streaks. For a moment, the room was filled only with the sounds of your ragged breaths.

Gently, Sanzu lifted you, sitting you upright with his hands supporting the small of your back. His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the fervor of moments before. He held you as though you might vanish if he let go, his forehead pressing lightly against yours.

“I’m not letting you go,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. His voice carried an edge of resolve, as if the very thought of losing you was unbearable. “Not now. Not ever.”

You looked at him, your gaze softening despite the chaotic swirl of emotions inside you. “I’m yours, then,” you said, your voice quiet but absolute. The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Sanzu froze, his eyes wide with shock.

The affection in your gaze struck him like a physical blow, and his lips curved into a sheepish, almost boyish smile. Without hesitation, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, fervent kiss that only left you wanting more.

Despite your better judgment, a sense of peace settled over you, warm and undeniable. You knew people would call you reckless—crazy, even—for letting Sanzu Haruchiyo into your life, for giving him this piece of you. But in that moment, you realized something no one else could ever understand: no one would ever love you the way Sanzu Haruchiyo does. His love was desperate, all-consuming, like a fire that threatened to burn the whole world down if needed.

Somehow, the idea of it doesn’t scare you. Guess you don’t mind the flames at all.

amari's notes: first nsfw piece! i kinda struggled writing this one. i only read them, not write them huhuh. writing smut is not easy at all. so kudos to all nsfw and dark content writers! but it was fun writing this. now all i could think of is sanzu. omg im in danger anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf

okay, yandere-ish lovesick Sanzu Haruchiyo who's obsessed with you. following you and scaring off anyone and everyone who tries to get close to you like the guard dog that he is.

behind close doors, the intimidating man crumbles. he's desperate, he's whiny, he's needy. he begs for your attention, for your affection. he just wants you and makes it his mission to fuck you senseless until he's all you can ever think about.

im currently in a tokyorev rut recently. this might be the first nsfw fanfic i might write? who knows hahaha this is why you cant leave me alone with my thoughts huhuhh

[mya-valentine]

Wild Hearts, Tender Hands

Synopsis: Sanemi Shinazugawa, rough-edged and volatile, finds an unexpected solace in you—a calm yet strong presence unafraid of his temper or scars. Through fiery arguments, tender moments, and shared battles, the two of you navigate a love forged in resilience and passion, proving that even the fiercest hearts can find peace in another.

Sanemi Shinazugawa wasn’t the kind of man people felt at ease around. His sharp tongue, volatile temper, and cold exterior kept most at a distance. That suited him just fine; he didn’t want anyone getting close. Getting close meant getting hurt—or worse.

But you were different.

You were soft in a way that felt almost foreign to him. It wasn’t weakness—no, you weren’t weak. You had strength, but it was a quiet kind of strength. You didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard. You didn’t wield a sword to prove your worth. You had a way of standing your ground without breaking the people around you, and Sanemi hated how much it fascinated him.

Hated, because it made him notice you.

The first time you met, he had been drenched in blood—none of it his own. His uniform was torn, his hair wild, and his scarred hands still gripped his Nichirin blade as if another demon might emerge at any second. You had been among the villagers who had survived the attack, kneeling by an injured child, your hands steady as you worked to bind a wound.

“You.” His voice had been rough, almost accusatory. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You glanced up at him, unfazed by his tone. “Helping,” you replied simply.

Sanemi bristled. “This isn’t your job. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

You didn’t back down. “And who’s going to help these people if I don’t? You?”

For a moment, he was struck silent. Most people cowered when he barked at them, but you met his glare head-on, your eyes steady. It wasn’t defiance, not really. It was conviction.

He didn’t know what to make of it.

Sanemi told himself he didn’t care what happened to you. People like you didn’t last long in a world like this, and he didn’t need the distraction. But every time he saw you, his resolve wavered.

You had a habit of showing up where you weren’t supposed to be—patching up wounded slayers after battles, delivering supplies to remote villages, always putting yourself in danger for the sake of others. It infuriated him.

“Do you have a death wish or something?” he snapped one evening after dragging you away from a demon attack.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, brushing dirt off your clothes.

He stared at you, stunned into silence by your audacity.

“I’m serious,” you continued. “You throw yourself into danger like your life doesn’t matter. Why is that?”

His jaw clenched. “Because it doesn’t.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, but you didn’t rise to it. Instead, you stepped closer, your gaze softening. “It matters to someone,” you said quietly.

Sanemi hated how much your words affected him.

It took time for him to let you in. Sanemi wasn’t used to softness, to kindness without an ulterior motive. He didn’t know how to accept it, much less return it. But you were patient, meeting his barbed words with calm understanding, his rough edges with quiet strength.

At first, he kept his distance, watching you from afar. You never demanded anything from him, never pushed too hard. You were just… there. A steady presence that somehow made the world feel a little less unbearable.

He found himself seeking you out without realizing it. After missions, he’d stop by to “check on the others” but end up lingering near you. If anyone pointed it out, he’d snap at them, his ears turning red.

You never teased him about it, though. You didn’t need to. The way you looked at him, like you could see through all the anger and pain to the person he tried so hard to bury, was enough to unsettle him.

The night everything changed, Sanemi had come back from a mission more battered than usual. His uniform was shredded, his arms covered in fresh scars. You’d been waiting for him, as you often did, ready with bandages and a scolding.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you demanded as you cleaned the gash on his shoulder.

“I was thinking about killing the damn demon,” he growled, wincing as your fingers brushed over his skin.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Sanemi,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You act like your life doesn’t matter, but it does—to me, at least.”

He froze, his breath catching in his throat.

You looked away, your hands falling to your lap. “I know you think you don’t deserve to be cared for, but you do. And I—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “I care about you. More than I should.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, before you could say anything else, Sanemi reached out, his hand rough but gentle as it cupped your cheek.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and raw. “Don’t waste your time on someone like me.”

But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your eyes meeting his. “Let me decide what’s worth my time.”

Loving Sanemi was like loving a wildfire. He burned bright and fierce, his passion all-consuming. But you had a way of softening his edges, of reminding him that there was more to life than fighting and pain.

He didn’t always know how to show it, but he loved you fiercely in return. He loved the way you stood your ground, even against him. He loved the way your hands were always warm, always steady, no matter how chaotic the world around you was. He loved the way you looked at him, like he was something worth saving.

You fought often—Sanemi’s temper and your stubbornness made sure of that. But no matter how heated the argument, you always found your way back to each other.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered one night after he’d stormed out and returned an hour later, his shoulders slumping as he mumbled an apology.

“And you’re too damn patient,” he shot back, his lips quirking into a small, reluctant smile.

Life with Sanemi was never easy, but it was worth it. Together, you weathered every storm, every battle, every heartbreak. He taught you to fight, to wield a blade with precision and purpose. You taught him to trust, to let himself be vulnerable.

And in the quiet moments—when the world wasn’t falling apart and the weight of his duty didn’t feel so crushing—Sanemi allowed himself to dream of a future with you. A future where he didn’t have to fight anymore, where he could finally let go of his anger and just… be.

You were his anchor, his sanctuary, the only thing in this world that made him feel whole. And no matter how many demons he faced, no matter how many scars he carried, he knew one thing for certain:

He would fight for you. Always.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[nxzz-skz]

Bound by contract (a bangchan x reader series)

Chapter 10

ᯓ★arranged marriage between nonidol!bangchan and fem!reader

ᯓ★ warnings: angst

ᯓ★ note: send an ask or comment to be added to my taglist!

ᯓ★ my heart literally broke into tiny little pieces whilst writing this :( on the other hand - YIPPIE 10th CHAPTER OF MY FIRST SERIES!

chapter 9 - masterlist - chapter 11

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The night of the gala didn't end with forgiveness.

You were driven home in Chan's car, the whole journey filled with quiet tension. The air between you was thick with all the things neither of you wanted to say yet. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly you thought he might break it, and you sat with your arms crossed, eyes fixed on the city lights as the flashed past the window.

When the car finally came to a stop in front of the house, you expected him to stay in the car. To drive away. To leave.

But he didn't.

Instead, he got out, walked round to your side, and opened your door for you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to react to the sudden change in his behaviour.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly, his voice careful but firm.

You blinked up at him. Was he asking for your permission?

"You don't have to," you muttered, glancing away. "If you think I'm still to fragile to be trusted."

He sucked in a breath, and for a moment, you thought you'd gone too far. But when you finally looked at him, his expression wasn't angry.

It was raw.

"No more games, Y/N," he said quietly. "Not with you."

His words buried themselves deep in your chest, heavier than you wanted them to be.

You stepped out of the car, brushing past him silently. But you didn't stop him from following you inside.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

Once inside, you kicked off your heels and threw your purse onto the kitchen counter. Chan lingered by the door, his hands stuffed in his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.

You glanced at him, annoyed by how easily he could make himself look vulnerable — as if he weren’t the man who could destroy an entire empire with a single phone call.

“Are you going to just stand there?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He looked at you, then stepped forward, each step deliberate and slow. His eyes never left yours. “I’m done standing around.”

You hated how your heart betrayed you, thudding loudly in your chest.

“Why now, Chan?” you asked, voice sharp. “Why do you suddenly care so much?”

He stopped a few feet away, close enough to touch but far enough to give you space. His gaze softened, and the weight of everything that had passed between you was suddenly too heavy to ignore.

“Because I’m tired,” he admitted, his voice low but certain. “I’m tired of pretending that I’m fine without you.”

You sucked in a breath, your chest tightening painfully. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for him.

“Stop,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Stop saying things like that.”

“Why?” He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Because you’ll believe me?

Yes.

“No,” you lied, your throat tight with emotion.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he could see through you. “You always do that,” he muttered.

“Do what?” you bit back.

“Run,” he said simply.

You froze, his words cutting deeper than you expected.

He didn’t press forward this time. Instead, he stood there, his gaze steady, like he was finally seeing you for exactly who you were.

“I’m not running,” you said firmly.

“No?” He arched a brow. “Then stay.”

“Stay for what, Chan?” You raised your hands, letting them fall to your sides. “Stay so you can control me? So you can make deals with people behind my back?”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “I told you — I’m done with that.”

“And I’m supposed to just believe you?” Your voice cracked, all the hurt you’d been holding in pouring out at once. “Do you have any idea how stupid I feel? I let you in, Chan. I let you—” You stopped yourself, taking a sharp breath, shaking your head. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

His eyes searched yours, his face twisting in pain. “Then tell me how to fix it,” he said, his voice desperate in a way you’d never heard before. “Tell me what to do, Y/N. Tell me what you need.”

What I need?

“I needed you to choose me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But you didn’t.”

Silence.

Chan took a step closer, and you didn’t stop him. His hands hovered near your face, his fingers just shy of touching your cheek. His eyes bore into yours with a raw intensity that left you breathless.

“I’m choosing you now,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

You swallowed hard, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him. But trust wasn’t something you could just give back.

“Then prove it,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “Prove it, Chan. Or leave.”

He stared at you for a long, heavy moment. No words. No promises. Just silence.

Then he stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m not leaving,” he said softly. “Not this time.”

He stayed the night.

But not in your room.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The days after that night felt different.

Chan was still around, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the kitchen when you woke up. He wasn’t by your side at the dinner table. He’d leave for work before you saw him and return long after you were in bed.

It was like living with a ghost.

Until one night, you woke up to the faint sound of something.

At first, you thought it was a dream. But then you heard it again. A low, broken sound.

Was that…

You threw the blanket off and stepped out of bed. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed the sound down the hall.

It was coming from the guest room.

Slowly, you opened the door. The room was dark, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlight outside. But you saw him.

Chan. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands.

He didn’t see you.

At first, you thought he was just tired. But then you heard it — the sound that had woken you up.

He was crying.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Bang Chan didn’t cry. Not the man you knew. Not the man who carried the world on his back. But here he was, shoulders shaking, his breath hitching like he was trying to hold it all in but failing miserably.

Don’t go in. Don’t get involved.

But your feet moved anyway.

You stepped forward slowly, heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t notice you until you sat beside him.

His head lifted, his eyes red and wet with tears. The shock on his face was immediate, his eyes wide like you’d caught him committing a crime.

“Go back to bed,” he muttered, wiping at his face like he could erase it all.

But you didn’t move.

“Chan,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer right away. He glanced at you, then away, his breathing still uneven. You waited.

Finally, he spoke.

“The board wants me to step down,” he said quietly. “They think I’m too much of a liability now.” His lips twitched into something like a broken smile. “I built this company for them, and now they want me gone.”

The weight of his words settled between you, heavier than anything he’d ever confessed.

He glanced at you again, his eyes full of something dangerous and fragile all at once.

“Tell me to walk away, Y/N,” he said, his voice hollow. “Tell me to walk away from you, from all of it.”

You stared at him, your heart aching in ways you couldn’t explain.

This man. This broken, brilliant, infuriating man.

“Don’t,” you whispered, reaching for his hand. “Don’t walk away.”

He blinked, his breath catching. His fingers curled around yours, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“Then I won’t,” he said, voice rough.

For the first time, you believed him.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

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