#both times the author was old enough to know better of course

[twinklecupcake]

Conversation with a friend the other day led to some thinky thoughts but like

I've been plagiarized a few times now. And man, it... It always sucks, don't get me wrong.

But I find it so bizarre and baffling how like. It'd be one thing if the culprits quietly panicked and took down the copy-pasted fics. Even if I never got an apology, it'd be like "Okay, they knew they fucked up. They're panicked now and took it down. Alright, that's the end of it."

But I'm two for two now for someone being confronted with the evidence of it, and when they take it down they go full ham with insistence that "I didn't copy you! It just looks a little similar!" and "Fine, I'll take it down if it'll make you feel better." And then they go on their profiles or the fic in question and rant about "a troll" who accused them of plagiarism, which they totally are not, GOD, and both times I got blocked??

It's just such a funny case of "I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice."

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: The boys as parents

Warning: Long post ahead! 3.7K words in total! reader is MC! f!reader, AFAB!reader, implied abortion

Author's note: I went a little too overboard and specific with this one... IDK if you guys will like it. Might make a part 2/Individual fics it this post does well!

Zayne as a father:

He became a parent to 2 kids, both adopted. The eldest is a boy, and the youngest is a girl.

After a life-threatening complication when you were pregnant (it involved the problem in your heart, you and your husband decided to adopt instead. The first was a 4-year-old boy and, later on, a 2-year-old girl from an island near Linkon City.

Zayne works hard as a chief surgeon; even then, the pay at AKSO Hospital is no joke. Despite preparing more than enough money to live comfortably with a child, something within him fueled his desire to do better: before you got married, he worked hard to become a part of the Hospital's board of directors. This allowed him to control his time more and spend fewer hours working.

When you and Zayne adopted your first boy, a 4-year-old named Elias, you met him as a quiet little boy which you found working hard to try and read an outdated newspaper on the island. A few months later, you discovered your now-son's interests in academics and learning. Zayne was pleasantly surprised to see his little boy eager to learn about things outside of the island, so much so that the chief surgeon almost immediately registered him to enter formal schooling.

Most people would assume that, like himself, he expected his son to achieve great things in school, but on some school nights, before bedtime, Zayne would talk to your son. "You're doing well in school, Elias. But don't forget to have fun." You thought Zayne would never really have time to visit your son's plays and school activities. Still, much to your surprise, he was there for most of it, especially in events where your son is involved. It was such a comedic sight watching your husband hold a noncellular camera.

Being a part of the hospital board of directors meant long and lengthy meetings, so there were times when he still had to work late and leave beyond working hours. Sometimes, you let your son stay up and accompany you to pick up your husband. Of course, that's also to buy a hotpot for a midnight snack on the way. There were also times when you and your son would fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He quickly picks you up and places you on his bed, tucking you and himself five minutes later. The next thing you know, it's morning, and the smell of waffles is wafting in the air.

He wasn't outwardly affectionate, but it's more than evident that he loves his son. He praises him to his colleagues (unknowingly), and he gives him gifts, and the cost doesn't matter. But sometimes, he shows love to his child through words, Complimenting his son's actions and skills.

He rarely scolds his son as he's the less strict parent. Your dynamic is the type where if you don't allow your son to go do something, he'll call his dad for backup. You almost always give in. Zayne never really puts his hand on his son. Instead, he opts for a more, face-the-consequence-of-your-actions type of dad. He lets his son be and ensures Elias learns that there are things he can't and shouldn't do. On more bad days, when your son is extremely hard-headed, Zayne will tell him what to do.

A few years later, despite many ups and downs, both of you decided to adopt from the same island again. It was a year-old infant named Penelope who was handed to the orphanage due to the death of her mother.

Between the two of you, Zayne was the one who fell in love first. He never expected to be a girl dad, and he didn't think too much of it until he saw her in your arms. The first thing she did was grab his finger and giggle, looking so beautiful against the island's sunset.

When she grew a bit older, Zayne became fond of how she began to resemble you in terms of actions and personality. She was undoubtedly the type of kid to make a fuss about the little things and act cunningly to get her way and, at the same time, not cry over the things that made her sad or hurt her.

She was often seen with you and clinging to you if not Elias. With her, things were an unspoken competition between Elias and Zayne. He was her first in many things: first dance, first time riding a bike, and first parent to be called by her, except for the first kiss. Her first kiss was given to his older brother, and it was on the forehead. Zayne sulked for the rest of the day while your son held that against him, stating that his little sister loves him more than his dad.

Despite this, Zayne and Elias developed another thing, an unspoken urge to protect the little girl. It may not seem like it, but Elias always focuses on Penelope, ensuring she's doing alright in school and having fun. Zayne sometimes sneaks into the daycare to peek at her daughter's condition. On Zayne's day off, Elias would tell stories about what Penelope does on a day-to-day basis. Thanks to his son, he was well-versed in her daughter's life events despite working a lot in the Hospital.

Xavier as a father:

Xavier is a father to one male child.

It was an unplanned pregnancy, which you only realized when you had your Quarterly checkup at headquarters. The doctor ruled you unfit to work on the field because you were carrying a month-old baby. You gagged at the news, and on the same day, you told Xavier. He just stared at you and turned red.

Xavier was…enthusiastic(?) with your pregnancy. Despite being the type not to really change when you were pregnant, he was always on guard and on your beck and call, buying out whatever cravings you had, even at midnight or on a rainy day (He was the one having cravings; You settled with whatever food you had in the house.)

While you were at home resting with him, you observed his behavior change. He was more silent than usual, looking out of the window; when you asked, he told you that his having a child felt like a fever dream. Xavier was unprepared to be a father but willing to learn. His trove of light novels and comic books slowly began to be invaded by parent magazines and guidebooks on caring for an infant. If he has some day off, he will be by your side to help you do stuff around the house or attend parenting classes behind your back.

When you gave birth, even through the amniotic fluid and white stuff covering the child, you could easily see that he was a pure carbon copy of Xavier. There was no part of the little baby that resembled you at all. Both in physical appearance and in attitude. Xavier cried tears of joy upon seeing your child born, albeit he never showed anyone his crying face. You know he did because his eyes and nose were puffier than usual.

The baby was quiet; it coos, plays with its saliva, and asks for a lot of milk, but I rarely cry. The only time it cries is if a loud sound is disturbing it from sleeping. And even when he cries, gently tapping and lulling him within five minutes will stop the little guy from crying.

The baby was attached to him. The baby would unknowingly leer towards him whenever he was around, asking to be picked up, to which Xavier would happily do so. He was a sleepy child and liked to nap even in broad daylight. He was easily fed and didn't put up much of a fight, even in his older years.

At the age of three, it was the beginning period where his little meek personality began to change. The kid was adventurous and the curious type. He was often found in his own world observing the little things in life, like a trail of ants or a kitten atop a tree branch, yet it seemed like he was curious to learn more things. He liked to observe from up close, which is why he was often seen on tiptoes trying to look over a lot of stuff or squatting down to observe the smaller insects on the ground.

To help him foster his talents and strengths, Xavier brings him to the headquarters once a week to let him run around and train. You were against it initially, but seeing your little boy imitate his father with clumsy focus made your heart swoon. A few years later. The kid was in school; Xavier was the one who attended the boy's school activities as you had to work most of the time, leading a team of your own.

He was doing well compared to the average students in school. Still, the teacher complained that the little boy kept sleeping in class, often getting him scolded and demerit. Xavier scratched his head and apologized, saying the little boy must've been exhausted after midnight play-dates with him.

Xavier keeps physical albums in his home, one for the family, one for you and him, and one dedicated to your child's life. Much to your surprise, he was more hands-on with his child than you might expect. Xavier never lets you carry your son for too long; he's afraid that you would collapse from exhaustion. He'd also be the one to put him to sleep, almost always falling asleep with his own son.

He's not the type to gift his child physical things (he still does occasionally). He would prefer to take you guys out to different locations, like a new arcade, a new park, or a place where your son could explore freely and safely. Xavier adores his child and keeps a photo of him on his lock screen. On his desk is a family picture of you and him that you take every year.

Xavier was the favorite parent when the little boy grew up because he was calmer, more collected, and the cooler one between you two. It's not that you weren't, but you know how boys are. Xavier tells his son many stories that he passes off as "fairytales" when, in reality, it was actually his real adventures in the decades he has lived and worked. But his favorite ones were when he and you fought against the wanderers side to side.

Needless to say, Xavier was a role model and a doting father. Because his appearance never really changed, at some point in the far future, he would be mistaken as the little boy's twin brother instead. It became a running joke in your family, so much so that out of pity, your son decided to dye his hair a different color to make him distinguishable.

Xavier and your son continued to have a boss and subordinate relationship in the hunter's association, which a lot of people really admired. On the other hand, you ran the bigger team and were on the field most of the time. Memories of regular days are filled with seeing each other in the medical Bay, on the field, or in a restaurant after a long fight on the field.

Rafayel as a father:

Father to two girls.

Rafayel's baby was not planned. In fact, he never believed you were pregnant until he saw signs of your body changing, especially the morning sickness and cravings. It's not that he didn't want to be a father, but it was simply too sudden for him, and he couldn't absorb it well.

He went a little overboard in preparation, hoarding many little clothes that your child would definitely outgrow. He brags about your pregnancy to many people, saying he's excited to be a father and always wanted a family of his own. People congratulate you a lot, even if you don't know who they are. On random days, you keep getting mail for some reason, and it's oversized packages: bassinets, branded feeding bottles, bottle steamers, and a box full of infant diapers. Safe to say, you really didn't need to buy a lot of things for your little passenger.

Unlike you, who was pretty lenient in designing the bedroom for your daughter, he was nit-picky as hell. The interior designer and suppliers had a hard time dealing with your husband, and you could only apologize secretly on his behalf. Nonetheless, the room turned out to be more beautiful than you expected.

When the baby arrived, he was crying, but he denied it. Yet everyone in the room could see him cry like a diva. Everyone wanted to see the baby, and so did your friends. Still, to your surprise, Rafayel refrained from letting anyone visit you for fear of the infant contracting any diseases from the visitors.

You decided to name her Anastasia. He was undeniably meant to be a girl dad. There was no day in the week when the little baby was dressed poorly. She would always wear on-brand clothes; even simple pajamas cost more than they should. He bought her dolls, stuffed toys, and those big dollhouses collectors buy.

When the little baby girl grew up and began to attend school, Rafayel would always ask for a kiss on the cheek, which your daughter would happily give.

Rafayel likes to gossip with you and your daughter, and he is a good source of news because he always knows the juicier side of stories. With your daughter, he knows the reputation of each and every parent. Sometimes, they go too far and pick on your daughter's classmates, e.g., telling them that their clothes are old-fashioned or that one kid looks like a mean bully. The bad thing is, your daughter thinks so as well. You and Rafayel once went to her sports day competition and saw her play a three-legged race partnered with a boy. You could see the smoke coming out of Rafayel's head, and you had to cover his mouth because he was uttering profanities. Something like: "Get your hands off my daughter, you little…"

Raf likes to give gifts as a sign of affection, and your daughter is thankful, but on special days, she doesn't request anything. Instead, she insists on having a dad-daughter date instead. Thanks to those moments, Raf began to lean more towards spending time together rather than showering her with gifts.

She grew up replicating Rafayel's diva-ness as her form of humor, and she usually tries to get away with stuff using that method. But she was family-oriented, being the type to show affection outwardly. She most definitely became a daddy's girl and would always go to him for help.

Later on, when your first child reached her teen years, you decided to have another child, and this time, it was a girl whom you named Charlotte. Rafayel was more tamed with the room decoration this time, but not with the gifts and outfits. He didn't allow any secondhand items from Anastasia to be given to the younger one.

Rafayel, despite already being a seasoned dad, was more overprotective with his second daughter, hiring a nanny for her. He would be restless if he didn't manage to see her for two days, so he refrained from going out of town unless necessary. If he did, however, he would always call you and ask how Charlotte was doing. You would turn the phone to your daughter, but she wouldn't pay him any mind and continue coloring in her little notebook.

Unlike Anastasia, Charlotte preferred to be with you. She was the more reserved of the two siblings, but she was mature for her age. She knew what she wanted and would outwardly deny if whatever she was doing or receiving was not to her liking. She wasn't that dramatic and would just stare at her sister or father whenever they exaggerated their emotions in front of her.

Sometimes, you and Charlotte just like to watch your other daughter and your husband act all dramatic. Then you just brush them off and spend your day drinking tea and eating cupcakes.

Sylus as a father

Sylus is the father of twins. One boy, one girl.

You weren't married when you found out you were pregnant; you were his lover by then, but you were severely unprepared to have children, considering the environment you guys were in. You got married in secret, and he made a promise to protect you and your children despite living in the N109 zone.

Upon the birth of your children, he was mainly on edge. He got you the best doctors and midwives. Although your birth was surprisingly smooth sailing, you heard some stories from the nurses nearby about how Sylus was threatening a doctor if you ended up with complications. Thankfully, the twins were delivered safely.

Between the twins, the eldest is a girl you named Mauve, and the boy, Claude. Mauve had your eyes, but his hair color was daunting, and he had a more pale skin tone, while Claude resembled you more than Sylus, except for his eyes.

Sylus didn't care much for the children; he made that apparent by focusing more on you and his work and leaving the kids to the nanny. That quickly changed after six months. On a random day, he saw you tending to your children, both sleeping soundly in your arms. You seemed at peace inside the bedroom, looking out into the distance. Something switched inside of Sylus, which neither of you can point out, but there was one thing for sure: You guys were now a family.

The mindset change perplexed you the most because, beginning that day, Sylus made a quiet effort to learn how to take care of the twins. He was often seen with the nanny, asking for specific methods of washing the feeding bottles or bathing the twins. And in no less than a month, he was practically the one taking care of your children whenever he was at home.

Sylus doesn't spoil his children more than necessary. Sure, they had rooms of their own and a decent amount of toys, branded items, and clothes, but he only gave them a little more than necessary. He firmly believes that children should learn to work hard at an early age to not get disappointed in the future; you scolded him for that, though, after all, they were just children.

Sylus always plays with his children whenever he can. He doesn't like it when family time is interrupted by business, so he ensures no one disturbs the residence until you and the children have had enough fun. His play methods are surprisingly tame and even comedic; after all, the sight of Sylus dawning twin-tails and stickers on his face doesn't come by that often. On days when he's out of town, Luke and Kieran are the ones who play with the children, and not even they can withstand the dress-up and role-play.

Whenever things get complicated in the organization, or even a hint of danger lurks around the family, Sylus sends you and the children away to a residence under a different name. It was located on a more private island, which only his private jet could access. Then, he deals with the problem as swiftly as possible.

A few more years later, Sylus changed. His principle of hard work equals good rewards shifted, and he slowly began to spoil the twins. They were spoiled, but it was surprising that they were obedient. That is until you spied around them when you were supposed to be at work. It was thanks to this that you realized another thing: Sylus is the type of father who says, "I can't do anything, your mother said no. Sorry, kids." when you're around and "C'mon kids, who will scold you? Your mom is at work, and I'm the parent in charge!" when you're not.

Thanks to this, you also discovered the real nature of your children behind the nice, good children facade.

They were naughty: They liked to play pranks on your husband, but Sylus always outsmarts them. You constantly wondered where they were picking up these silly pranks until you saw them huddled together with Luke and Kieran in a random corner of the house.

The twins were cunning: They greeted guests with a smile and treated maids with care, but they sneaked around the staff room and reported to Sylus what they heard. Once, they broke a vase and convinced you that Mephisto did it.

They were eccentric: The smiles on their faces were business smiles whenever other people were around. Note they were smiling ear to ear, but their smile was unsettling once you realized that you had entered the house of Onichynus' leader. It was almost threatening even.

Sylus, despite not looking like it, valued education as he believed it could give his children an advantage. Still, he'd let his children be street-smart rather than book-smart. Because of this belief, he would bring his children around for business meetings and less dangerous missions. You once argued with him over the twins' safety. Still, they reassured you that they're more than capable of protecting themselves.

A few years later, into adulthood, Claude was quietly regarded as a lethal weapon due to his proficiency in engineering (nuclear & Chemical) and in statistics; His background and frightening loyalty to his father and Onychinus amplified the organization's fearsome reputation.

On the other hand, Mauve was the front of Onychinus, often leaving the country to make business deals on behalf of his father, who was busy working at home. The woman was responsible. She was undoubtedly a gambler who believed high stakes = high rewards, yet she had never once lost that gamble.

But when you and your family get together for dinner every week, it's like they're the most mundane family ever, talking about what they hear out on the street and what the new neighbors are up to or what new places to visit in Linkon City. You just…came to accept it.

Author's footnotes: Alright this post is too long for my own liking but it would be longer if I go in depth about your family details. and at this point, this is like an AU... Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

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[ozzgin]

Yandere! CEO Headcanons

Just a little idea I had some time ago of a rather bizarre dynamic: a CEO with no time to spare, introduced to a young student his wife befriended. Perhaps he does have a moment, after all. (I need to dump my preference for a cultured older man somewhere)

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, NSFW, dating the wife is optional

[Original works masterlist]

Yandere! CEO who is in his mid 40s and terribly invested in his job. So much, that he and his wife agreed on an open relationship many years ago and barely interact anymore. Not a gloomy business by any means: she gets to meet new people and he can enjoy his work and hobbies in peace and without guilt.

Yandere! CEO who doesn't think much of it when his wife brings home a young student she befriended at a convention. He nods dismissively, returning to his papers and phone calls. At dinner, he just hums in acknowledgement and fiddles with the cutlery while the woman talks about you excitedly. "You know, (Y/N) reminds me a little of you." Nonsense.

Yandere! CEO with whom you scarcely interact: he's a borderline workaholic, and your relationship is cordial at best. That is until you're asked by the wife to retrieve some important documents from their ridiculously luxurious apartment. You quietly tiptoe past the office, but can't help glancing at the imposing library, stacked with books. The man's sudden arrival startles and you begin to mumble apologies, but he seems more interested in your curiosity than anything else.

Yandere! CEO who can't believe you both like the same authors. He discreetly removes the folder from your hands, tasking one of the assistants to deliver it to his wife instead. There are more important matters at hand. Have you had your coffee yet? Oh, you must stay longer. What's the hurry?

Yandere! CEO who has become awfully perceptive whenever your name is mentioned in conversations, innocently probing for more details. Naturally, he wouldn't mind meeting you again, but it's not...a need, per se. He was just pleasantly surprised to find someone he could so easily engage in conversation with. Hell, you're old enough to be his daughter. Don't be ridiculous, he'll scold himself sternly whenever his mind wanders too far.

Yandere! CEO who begins to feel like each encounter is a flirty tease. Is it just wishful thinking, or are you becoming cheekier by day? The way you bat your eyelashes, the way you cast your eyes down whenever he looks at you. The next time you're alone in the apartment, he's too far gone in his delusions to act rationally. How unusual for him to act so nonchalant. Unbuttoning your shirt with haste, trailing your neck with hot kisses, lifting your leg and pressing you against the wall. He never considered himself the type to fuck a much younger woman out of raw lust.

Yandere! CEO who loves taking you on dates despite his busy schedule. Art museums, theatres, the Opera. He is eager to introduce you to his interests and will answer any question or curiosity you have. Who would've thought everything is better in two? Of course, there could be other factors involved. Like the added bonus of watching you squirm in your seat and biting your lips to be quiet while he fingers you at the peak of Act 3. Then smirking to himself when everyone stands up for applause, and you have to rearrange your dress to hide the wet mess underneath.

Yandere! CEO who worries about you when he's on work trips, so he tasks his right-hand man to look after you and keep you company. If you ever get lonely, you can rely on his assistant to take care of all your needs. Now, he's not one to share, despite his marital arrangement. As bizarre as it sounds, he just sees the employee as a mere toy, an idle occupation who can temporarily entertain you in his absence. What he does perceive as a threat is swiftly taken care of. It's enough for you to mention another student flirted with you, and you'll never see that person again. You have to understand that he doesn't play around with his assets. One he has something, he holds onto it with ironclad strength. And he's never been more desperate to keep something in his possession.

Yandere! CEO who makes sure to remind you why dating him is your best (and only) choice. You would've wasted your time with boys your age. He can offer you the world and more, all you need to do is ask for it.

[aurumalatus]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

I.

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year. 

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face. 

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue. 

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer. 

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places. 

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks. 

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That��s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly. 

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him. 

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side. 

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now. 

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” 

V.

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure. 

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing. 

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his. 

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

[heeseungiez]

the tower by the forest | lhs

part one!

pairings! sorcerer!lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis! the immortal sorcerer lives in a tower by the forest filled with dark creatures. he protects the surrounding villages from its dangers, and in exchange, every decade, a girl from one of the villages is chosen to live as his companion. this time, it’s you.

genre! fantasy romance, angst

content warnings! swearing and the fact this is unfinished so this is part one

word count! 11.4k

author's note! i'm scared of making this longer but i'm literally just halfway through...

Throughout your life, a girl from the villages has only been taken twice. And the first time, you were barely one year old, so it could hardly affect you in any way. The second time, however, you were eleven. At the time, you already understood what was happening and why. A girl around the age of twenty had been chosen to live with the lone and mysterious sorcerer who lived in a tower at the edge of the Forest to prolong his protection of the villages.

Nobody likes to talk about it much. How the girls are chosen, when he comes for them and what he does to them. None of that information is known. Although you’ve heard that usually, once the decade passes, the girls are free to go and live as they please with a solid fortune to their name. The girl you witnessed being taken away ten years ago has been released recently, and you heard from the whispers of the other villagers that she moved to the city and is starting her own business in dressmaking.

For that very reason, every village surrounding the Forest lives in restless anticipation. Any day now, a new girl will be chosen to join the sorcerer in his tower. Ten years, she will live with him and do whatever it is that she’s got to do to keep her family and friends safe from the darkness of the Forest.

You wish you could know how the girls are chosen to be better prepared. It’s glaringly obvious that some villagers think you might be the next girl chosen. You’re the perfect age for it, and apparently, there is also the fact that the girls that go to the sorcerer are usually deemed objectively beautiful or somehow talented.

You’re not exactly talented, but you’re not that beautiful either. You’d argue that Yeji or Chaeryong are far better choices in that regard, but somehow the eyes are still on you. It’s strange, knowing that everyone is convinced you will be next while you can’t see a single reason why. Maybe they just want to be rid of you. Although that is most certainly not the way the girls get chosen.

Everyone simply overestimates your talent with the violin and your voice. That has got to be it. You’re not a genius nor a prodigy, you play the instrument and sing merely because you want to. It’s a hobby, but it’s not something to make you a desirable choice for the sorcerer. And you don’t want to be his choice either. You’d rather stay in your village with your family and friends.

“Y/N!” One of those friends, Jaeyun, calls after you with a grin on his lips, waving enthusiastically. “Do you have time today? I’d like to practise together.” Because both of you play the violin. In fact, it was Jaeyun who made you fall in love with the instrument in the first place.

You smile and nod. “Of course. I always have time,” you say, although untruthfully. For Jaeyun, however, everyone makes time. He is the village’s golden boy. Loved and adored by everyone. He can talk his way into and out of anything. You’re sure he’s never paid for anything either because everyone is happy to give him everything for free — a gift for the beloved boy of Riverfeld.

Whenever you and Jaeyun visit the local tavern, the tab made on his name is never paid, and the owner has never even asked for it to be paid. It’s as if his mere existence is payment enough. But you guess that’s what happens when you’re the people’s happy pill.

“Awesome! Let’s go,” Jaeyun says, grabbing your hand.

You expect him to let you get your violin at home, but it isn’t necessary as he has done that for you. He prepared the whole scene, already knowing you would say yes because why would you not?

“Look,” Jaeyun says, grabbing a sheet that is laid by his instrument. “Sunghoon and I have been working on a new composition and I wanted to try playing it with you.”

You hum, waiting for Jaeyun to approach you. He practically sticks himself to your side with the sheet in hand, showing you the new song they’ve been working on.

It’s a love song. 

There are no lyrics, but as you imagine the sound of the melody, your imagination bringing it to life, you know it’s a ballad. A song of love meant for someone specific. A confession of adoration and admiration. 

“You think you can do this?” Jaeyun asks, solemnly looking at you.

Smiling, you nod. “Of course.”

Both of you grab your violins, sharing the singular sheet in between as you prepare. Sitting down on the ground, you settle the violin on your shoulder and rest your chin atop. A smile adorns your lips at the feeling of holding the instrument in your hands again.

“Can we?” Jaeyun asks softly, also ready. All he needs is a nod from you to lift his bow to the strings of the violin and start the melody. He acts as your guide as this is your first time playing the song. 

It starts off slowly. A sweet melody of two people getting to know each other, growing closer and beginning to care. The tempo picks up when the two lovers begin to realise they are in love. They struggle with the fear, the melody conveying the uncertainty, until finally, they gain the courage to confess. And by the time the song is over, the two lovers are together. 

“We named it Only If You Say Yes,” Jaeyun grins.

“It’s beautiful, Jaeyun,” you say, fighting the growing uneasiness within your belly. Not because of the boy across from you, but a general burning feeling in your body that spreads from your chest to the rest of your body. As if it’s pumping fire instead of blood. 

The frown that contorts your expression springs Jaeyun up to his feet, dropping by your side. “Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks, and while you’d love to nod and say yes, it would be a lie. Nothing about this scorching feeling is okay. 

You hiss and groan, grabbing onto your wrist where most of the pain begins to concentrate. It leaves your other limbs in favour of your right wrist where it burns so much you think your entire limb might melt.

The scream that escapes you is unintentional. You wanted to hold it in, but it was impossible with the pain coursing through you. Jaeyun grabs you by the shoulders, holding onto you. Confused about what is happening to you.

And as he holds you in his embrace, the pain subsides. Slowly but surely, it leaves your body the same way it entered, and you slump against the dark haired boy with your head buried in the crook of his neck.

“Y/N,” he whispers softly, one arm wrapped around your waist to support you while the other moves up to cup your face. He examines you, sweat coating your forehead. 

“My… wrist,” you breathe out, and try to pull away from Jaeyun, but his grip on you is strong, and you can barely do anything without him supporting your weight. So you wait for him to look for you.

“There’s a tattoo,” Jaeyun says, discomfited. Staring at it closer, he grabs onto your wrist. “Golden antlers,” he describes it while his fingers softly trace the pattern, and you furrow your brows, getting a look yourself. 

Jaeyun blanches with a realisation that pains him, glancing at you. “Y/N,” he mumbles, cupping both your cheeks to make you look at him. “It’s his sign.”

You both know who he is. 

Your eyes widen. “But… that can’t be,” you breathe out, shaking your head vigorously. “I know everyone thought it would be me, but I didn’t— I’m not special—”

Jaeyun smiles ruefully, disagreeing with you. “Clearly, you’re more special than you realise,” he says, voice low. “He’ll be paying us a visit soon, then.”

“I don’t want to go,” you say quietly. But what else is there to do? If you don’t go, you will put everyone you care about and other innocent souls in danger. And for what? For your own selfish reasons?

Jaeyun sighs mournfully, hands still cupping your cheeks. “What am I going to do without you for ten years?” he asks himself. 

“Live your life,” you say pragmatically, your hands grabbing his own. “It’ll be fine, right? As long as it means you’ll be safe.”

“Y/N.” Jaeyun licks his lips, wishing there was something he could do for you to make it easier. 

“It’ll be fine,” you repeat to yourself. 

It has to be fine. 

It was not supposed to happen so soon.

Usually, the Forest takes about a month or more since the previous girl’s departure to choose another. But the Forest is not dallying this time, having picked its next target.

Heeseung stares at the golden tattoo on his wrist that connects him with you, not knowing who you are just yet. He will, soon, however, as once the Forest picks a girl, she has to come to him as soon as possible.

He hates doing this, if he’s being completely honest. He’d be just fine living on his own and protecting the people, but in order to keep the darkness in check, there has to be some light. Heeseung isn’t exactly a good fit for that. Which means that every ten years, a girl with the purest of souls must live near the Forest to control it. And with a carefully crafted spell from him, the Forest gets to choose that girl by itself. 

That is the only reason he is now away from his home, riding his horse toward Riverfeld. The village where you live.

Nobody ever knows that he’s coming. He figured it’s better this way, since it stops the villagers from making a scene whenever he does arrive. He learned pretty early on, when it comes to this. He hated how awkward it was when they used to line up just to see at least the tiniest bit of his face, or when they tried to give him gifts instead of their daughters. 

Not how it works. Unfortunately. 

He’d rather take the gifts, too. 

But here he is, entering the small village almost unnoticed aside from the few glances here and there as people wonder who he is. To them, he’s a stranger, and they probably don’t get many of those. He did make sure to dress as a regular traveller, so hopefully they don’t suspect him much.

The tattoo on his wrist calls for its twin, and it pulls him toward the village’s tiny square. A stage has been set up in the centre, and a girl and a boy sit there, both playing the violin together, creating a beautiful song of wistful love. 

A concept Heeseung isn’t familiar with, but he does like the sound of it. It’s a youthful song full of hope. Asking for acceptance where it truly can be found. 

His eyes fixate on the girl playing. 

You.

You are smiling brightly despite knowing your fate, and you don’t stop playing until the song is well and truly over. Both you and the boy stand to bow to the audience when they begin to clap and fawn over you and your talent. 

You keep shaking your head, acting as if you deserve none of it. And the boy throws an arm around your shoulders with a grin, proud for the both of you. Another boy, taller than the other, joins and celebrates with you.

So Heeseung waits. Until everyone around you has said their praising piece to you. Until you’re well and truly alone, and the smile from your lips has dissipated the tiniest bit because you know what will eventually come. That these people who adore you will not be with you for long. That you will have to leave them.

You’re not surprised when he approaches you as a complete stranger. Instead, you look him in the eye and face him directly. “It’s you, isn’t it?” you ask, examining him from head to toe. “You’re the sorcerer.”

It takes a second for Heeseung to recover from it. He has met many girls over the years, each different but same in spirit, and he never thought much of them. But you stand in front of him with a pensive smile, accepting what is to come. There is a beauty to you that many probably don’t see. Though you are gorgeous in general, with big cheeks yet defined features, hair falling over your shoulders. One would have to be blind not to see it.

“Am I that obvious?” he asks, and you shake your head. 

“I think it’s the tattoo,” you reply. “I can sense it. You have it too, right?”

You’re quite clever.

Heeseung nods, and rolls up the sleeve of his cape to show you his identical tattoo. “It connects us,” he says plainly.

You hum. A playful glint enters your gaze, and your smile grows slightly. “I thought you’d be older,” you say matter-of-factly. “You look—”

“Handsome?” He cuts you off because he does not like it when people say he looks young. He knows he looks young. He’s looked the same for the past two centuries, and will continue to do so for as long as the Forest exists.

“My age,” you finish instead. Not young, just your age. That is certainly a new way to describe what he looks like. And he decides at this very moment that he likes it the best. Yes, he can accept looking your age — whatever it actually is. “But I suppose handsome is also a reasonable descriptor,” you add, eyeing his face.

This time, Heeseung is truly robbed of words. Whenever he arrives to take a girl to the Forest, they’re usually afraid of him. The last thing they’d call him is handsome. Yet here you are, standing in front of him, calm and accepting. You’re not crying, screaming or begging to stay. You just are. (a/n: Very demure, very mindful.)

“You should stay for a bit before we leave. My parents are making supper that could feed the whole village. It would be rude to leave before we got to taste it.” You don’t wait for Heeseung’s response before you are making your way toward what he deduces is your home. It’s humble enough, a house fit for a family of four, perhaps. But when you enter, it is filled with more than four people.

The two boys that Heeseung saw with you at the performance are both present alongside some older villagers and a girl some years younger than you. He’s not even sure why he followed you anyway. He should’ve stayed outside and waited for you to say your goodbyes. That’s usually the standard procedure for him, so why is he thoughtlessly breaking tradition all of a sudden?

“Y/N! Who’s—”

“That’s the sorcerer,” you say nonchalantly, shrugging.

“But why—”

“I’m not a monster,” Heeseung speaks, facing the boy you played the violin with. “I won’t take her away without saying her goodbyes… and it’s Heeseung.”

“Who?” you ask.

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Heeseung.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“My name is Heeseung.” He rolls his eyes, lips in a thin line.

“Oh! Well, I’m Y/N. Then this is Jaeyun, Sunghoon, Mum, Dad, Mrs Sim, Mr Sim, Mrs Park, Mr Park and Sunghoon’s little sister.” You point at everyone respectively with a soft smile upon your features. “I’m guessing Jongseong forgot he was supposed to come?” you say more to yourself, but Jaeyun hums in agreement.

“He’s been working on the new guitar that he’s trying to make,” he responds. “Forgets he has other duties or the fact he should, you know, eat and drink and sleep to live.”

“Said it’s for you, though,” Sunghoon mumbles, glancing at you. “He thought he’d have enough time to finish it.” Then he throws an apprehensive glance at Heeseung.

“But I don’t play the guitar,” you reply with a pout.

“He was going to teach you…”

Look, the next words that leave Heeseung’s mouth will probably make him regret it later, but watching you with your friends is doing weird things to the organ in his chest he thought had long been forgotten. So it’s a surprise to not just you and your friends when he says: “I know how to play the guitar. If your friend will not mind it, I will allow that guitar to be sent to you.”

The way your eyes widen in sheer surprise and gratitude makes Heeseung think that maybe it’s not such a regretful action. 

The Forest must’ve truly known what it was doing this time around. Everyone in this village seems to genuinely adore you. The purest of hearts among them all, living without the knowledge of it.

“I’m here! I’m here! I got it!” A boy bursts through the door with a guitar in hand, and Heeseung makes the safe assumption that this is Jongseong. Even in him, Heeseung can sense a very beautiful soul through and through, though the innocence is gone. 

It makes sense that you would surround yourself with people just as lovely as you on the inside. Whether you knew it or not.

“JJ,” you coo when he goes toward you with the instrument to hand it to you. “Why would you do all this for me?”

“So you remember me. Us. To come back to us.”

It occurs to Heeseung then that all three of these boys around you love you. As friends or more that is out of his field of knowledge, but the love between you is raw and just as pure and innocent as you are. 

“I could never forget you guys.” You smile and shake your head. “All three of you better be married and with kids by the time I’m back, though.”

“It’s not fair,” Jaeyun says, properly looking at Heeseung. “She’s a good person. Never done anything wrong in her life. Why—”

“I know,” Heeseung cuts him off, shaking his head. “That’s why.” Maybe being curt with them is not the best choice, but they won’t dare attack him.

“Nothing in this life is fair,” Jongseong murmurs sagely, his eyes finding you. But you are staring at Heeseung, brow arched with curiosity.

“Y/N! Boys! Come eat! Supper is done.”

Your parents did not say much when you introduced the sorcerer to them. They merely stared to assess him as if a mere look could tell them what kind of person he was. But, whatever their consensus was, they let him eat supper with you, so it was probably quite positive.

“Won’t deny supper to the man who fights to protect us on a daily basis,” your mother murmured before you all sat down at the table to eat.

You enjoyed yourself for the rest of the day because Heeseung let you. He was letting you say your goodbyes before ultimately whisking you away to his tower, and you appreciated it. 

Everything is going to be fine, you constantly remind yourself. 

Especially as you saddle your horse with Sunghoon’s help because he’s the tallest of your friends. Jay and Jake help carry your bags and attach them to the white mare. 

Heeseung says the ride to the tower will take a few days, which means that your mother packed enough food to last you a month. It’s a bitter kind of goodbye, knowing that you’re leaving to protect the ones you love. You still don’t really want to leave.

You never imagined yourself leaving home before. But now you have to.

“Are you ready?” Heeseung asks, his inquisitive gaze searching your expression for whatever lie you want to tell him.

And you smile, shaking your head. “Not really,” you reply honestly. “But I have to do this, don’t I?”

Heeseung blinks at you, discomfited by your transparency. “Yes,” he says. “The Forest chose you, and its decision is final.”

“Then I’m as ready as I can be.” You purse your lips, nodding. “Let’s go.”

Heeseung is not a very chatty sorcerer. Like, you haven’t known any sorcerers before him, of course, but the books usually depict them as these supernatural and immortal beings who like to have fun. Heeseung is anything but that. He is quiet and brooding. He only speaks up when it’s important, and you decided it would be better not to ask him many questions while you’re travelling lest you annoy him too much.

But by the second night of staying over at a tavern while on the road, it brings you a sense of peace. Usually, you’re not a fan of lack of communication, but with the sorcerer, it seems to be its own form of speaking and conveying what needs to be known.

You lie on the bed, reading a book provided to you by the innkeeper, biting your bottom lip as you wonder whether the sorcerer would scold you for daring to speak at him. He sits on the chair near the fireplace, merely gazing into the fire in silence.

Sighing, he turns his head ever so slightly to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “If you have something to say, then say it,” he grumbles before his attention is snatched away by the snapping fire again.

You shift in your seat, allowing yourself to fully stare at the sorcerer. His hair is as dark as night, loosely framing his face in waves. His honey-glazed skin looks slightly darker with just the fire casting light upon him, and despite his tall frame and broad shoulders, it seems he makes himself smaller in his chair. He must be exhausted.

“Can I ask a question?”

There is silence at first as if Heeseung ponders whether to say yes or no. Then, he responds, “Isn’t that already one? What stops you from asking another?” He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. ��I appreciate you being considerate, but if there is something on your mind, just say it. I’ll decide whether I want to answer or not.”

Closing your book, you put it aside. You allow yourself to admire the sorcerer from afar, quite taken by his beauty. Though that is not what you need to quell your mind. “So…” you start, unsure of how to word your question. Though what you come up with is not exactly an elegant way to ask either. “Why me?”

You’re met with another round of silence. It almost feels like a decade of stillness, the only sounds made inside the room being your breathing and the crackling fire. But the sorcerer finally turns to you, swallowing whatever comes to his mind at first to give you a composed answer. “Because the Forest chose you,” he says plainly. “And once the Forest chooses, it cannot be undone.”

“The Forest?” You furrow your brows in confusion. “I thought you chose the girls that stay with you?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “That is not how it works. I made the spell that chooses the girls, but ultimately, it is the Forest itself that chooses which girl must live near it.” The solemn expression in his eyes makes you stop for a moment and think about it.

The girls are taken in order for the sorcerer to protect the surrounding villages from the Forest. And now you know that the Forest chooses the girls itself at that. It makes sense, in a strange way. Because you still don’t understand why you only need to live near it, for it sounds like the girls should be some sort of sacrifice to the Forest. Except you will be allowed to go back to your old life after ten years.

“Then how exactly does that work?” you ask, frowning. “If the Forest chooses the girls, what are the specifics? And what do we do? We just live with you?”

“Yes,” Heeseung answers with a sigh. Licking his lips, he glances back at the fire, then at you. “The Forest is a dark place. In order to control it, there needs to be light. Which is when you come in,” he explains, pointing at your heart. He makes a pause, checking your expression to see whether you were still listening to him, only to find you intently staring at his face, not missing a single word that left his mouth. Clearing his throat, he continued, “I designed my spell in a way for the Forest to find the purest soul within the radius of the villages. This time, it’s you.” 

You purse your lips in thought. Never in your life have you thought of yourself as somebody with a pure soul, but apparently that is who you are, according to the sorcerer and his spell. Which is what got you into this situation of having to leave your childhood home and friends. Because the Forest chose you.

“Wait,” you say, a thought coming to you suddenly.

“Yes?” Heeseung raises his brow, watching your expression slowly change into that of distress.

“If the Forest chose me…” you start, frowning, “Does that mean that the creatures of the Forest would be after me? Whether I am at home or—”

“Yes.” The sorcerer nods in affirmation. “That is part of the magic. The Forest is drawn to you, and therefore, it makes my job of protecting the other villages from monsters that much easier. Since all of them are, well… headed for the tower.”

“For me, you mean.”

Heeseung gives a thin smile. “Even now, the Forest is already searching for you. But while we are on the way, and you are with me, you should be hidden until we reach the tower.”

“You didn’t have to tell me that,” you mumble, wondering how you’re going to fall asleep now, knowing that there are monsters specifically looking for you. Which means that, in a way, you are a sacrifice to the Forest, after all. The sorcerer just protects you and the other villages from them by killing said monsters.

“You asked,” he says with a shrug. “Nobody has ever asked before, so I’m not sure to what extent you’re interested in the topic,” he adds.

It occurs to you then, that maybe the only reason Heeseung hasn’t spoken much is because the other girls never had any interest in speaking to him due to the circumstances. He’s being distant simply because that’s how it’s always been for him.

“So, what exactly am I to do at the tower, once we get there?” you ask to continue the conversation. And unlike you thought, Heeseung does not seem annoyed by your questions at all.

“Whatever you want to do,” he replies. “I have an extensive library if you’re fond of reading. I can teach you to play the guitar your friend gave you. You can choose to pick up whatever hobby you want. All you have to do is just… live there as if it were your home for the next ten years so I can continue to protect your real home and other villages.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling, which takes Heeseung by surprise (again). “That sounds like a good deal, I suppose. I will miss my friends and family dearly, but I can do this.”

The Forest chose far too well, this time around, Heeseung thinks to himself and shakes his head. He’s been doing this for centuries, and he has never met anyone quite like you.

Home.

Heeseung lets out a huge sigh of relief when he finally steps inside the tower that has been his beloved home for many, many years. You trail behind him nervously, all of your luggage already sent to your room with a single flick of his hand. You’re not used to such magic just yet, but as time will pass, nothing will be able to surprise you later on.

Although Heeseung has still been keeping rather quiet around you, you felt more comfortable simply speaking at him because you knew he was listening. During the remainder of your travels, you told him much about your life at home and your friends. Oftentimes, if you asked a question regarding his life, you would wait for his answers even if it took him minutes to respond.

“Let me show you all the important rooms,” Heeseung says to you, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile. He’s not sure what it is about you that makes him behave this way, but your aura seems to wear off on him, too. He’s caught himself smiling more often than usual.

When you nod, he starts the tour with the library. You had told him you weren’t that big of a fan of reading, but whenever you had the time and the mood, you liked to nestle with a good book. He also shows you the kitchen, the washing rooms, his office and your bedroom. There are more rooms within the tower, but for now, Heeseung leaves those doors closed.

“Unpack and make yourself at home,” he says, pointing at the plain room. It is not the same one as the girls before you have had, for this one is much closer to his bedroom and office. He knows he probably shouldn’t have done that, but this strange feeling in his chest told him that he might need to keep a much closer eye on you than the other girls.

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “What will you be doing?”

“I’m going to make us supper,” Heeseung informs you.

“Oh. You can cook?” you ask brightly, and the sorcerer scrunches his nose, shaking his head.

“I hope you like bread with butter.”

You blink at him, speechless. “Who doesn’t like bread and butter?” You tilt your head to the side. “But that isn’t all you eat whenever you’re at the tower, is it?”

Heeseung presses his lips together. “No?” he lies, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You must let me cook, then!” you claim, ready to storm past him into the kitchens rather than to unpack your things, but Heeseung places his hands on each of your arms to stop you from going anywhere.

“I don’t have any ingredients for cooking,” he says, shaking his head.  “Unless you are the one with magic, capable of making food out of thin air.”

“Well…” You pout, looking into the sorcerer’s eyes. “I do not have magic, but I know a hefty trick for getting ingredients.” You grin, aware of Heeseung’s hands still on you. “It’s called shopping.”

“You can’t leave the tower on your own,” Heeseung sighs. “It’s too dangerous. It won’t happen.”

“Then come with me,” you suggest nonchalantly, still smiling. “You will protect me, and I will make sure we have proper supper. Did the other girls truly agree to living on plain bread and butter?” Your brow furrowed, and Heeseung shrugged.

“Sometimes we had meat,” he says.

“I’m surprised they lasted ten years like this.” You shake your head in disbelief. “We live in modern times. There is much more food to eat than just bread and butter and meat.”

“I never needed anything more,” Heeseung grumbles.

“Well, now you do,” you say finally, crossing your arms. “Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we are visiting the closest village and visiting their market for ingredients.”

“As long as it’s not too early,” Heeseung says defeatedly.

Living with the sorcerer was much easier than you thought it would be. Even if he constantly complains about you waking him up far too early for chores such as shopping for ingredients. 

Today, however, when you approach his door to wake him up as usual, he opens the door right in front of your nose, pushing a cloak toward you. “Here. With this, you can go to the village on your own.”

“But… it’s a cloak.” You pouted, eyeing the piece of black fabric. It had a slight purple shimmer to it, however, and when the sorcerer spoke next, it confirmed your suspicions.

“It’s enchanted. To protect you from the Forest. It shouldn’t be able to track you while you’re wearing it. So put it on and let me sleep.” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair.

You raise your brow at him, noticing the dark bags under his eyes. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you attempt to tease him, but he merely sighs.

“More like someone didn’t wake up in the bed because they haven’t even gone to bed yet, trying to figure out the enchantment on this damned thing.” He points at the cloak indignantly. “I need my beauty sleep. I can’t keep going to the market with you,” he whines.

This is the revered sorcerer who protects the people from monsters that you got to know. He’s not any different from your friends other than the fact that he’s centuries older, yet somehow his mind seems to be stuck at a specific age — perhaps that is a thing of immortality. Because one doesn’t age, their mind nor body does not develop any further.

“Well, I was never forcing you to,” you say, finally accepting the cloak from him. “But thank you. I’ll make sure to wear this well.”

“Good.” The sorcerer nods.

“You know you could’ve just told me to stop going to the market if you don’t like it so much, right?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You’re the one with power here. And I’m the one in danger.”

Heeseung licks his lips and shrugs. “That means you’d stop cooking, though,” he says, not keen on admitting that he prefers your meals to anything he’s had in the last several decades. “Just… go by yourself. And make sure to come back in one piece.”

“How are you so sure I won’t just run away?” you keep questioning him, and he rolls his eyes this time.

“You see this?” He grabs your wrist, pointing at the magical tattoo created by his spell. “We’re connected, Y/N, remember? I will find you wherever you go. But it also means the Forest could do the same thing. Eventually, the enchantment on this cloak could wear out, and if you get stuck somewhere without me and something from the Forest comes for you, then you’ll have nobody but yourself to blame.”

You bite your lip, nodding. He’s certainly made his point. Not that you ever truly considered leaving on your own. You truly are not well equipped to fight monsters on your own. “I understand,” mumbling the response, you yank your wrist out of Heeseung’s grasp.

“Sorry,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his eyes leisurely. “I don’t mean to be so… irritable. I’m just—”

“Tired,” you finish for him, offering a thin smile. “I know. And I’m thankful for this, really.” You raise the cloak. “Get all the sleep you need, Heeseung. I’ll make sure to come back and prepare breakfast in the meantime.”

“Okay,” he says, allowing himself to grace you with the tiniest smile. Heeseung doesn’t smile often, so the few times that he does, it’s a precious sight. One to be remembered for days to come.

“I’ll get going now. Sleep well, Heeseung.”

As always, the market is buzzing with its early morning magic. Farmers from around the village and many other merchants have their stands prepared, beckoning anyone who shows even the smallest bit of interest in any of their wares. You always like to buy something from each to help them. Besides, the sorcerer’s resources are not exactly limited the same way your family’s used to be.

“No sorcerer today, Miss?” asks the farmer whose wares you’re eyeing. He’s an older man with grey streaks in his hair, and you remember him mainly because he’s always been the nicest to Heeseung out of all the villagers. While the others treat him with distrust and fear, this man has been nothing but respectful. 

“Unfortunately, he chose not to make the trip.” You give a thin smile, shaking your head. “But I plan to make a nice breakfast for him. So, what would you say are your best products today?”

“The sweet potatoes.” A new voice joins the conversation. A boy probably around your age steps into your view, grinning from you to the farmer. “They’ve been growing really well this season.”

“I see,” you hum, examining the newcomer. His big eyes and warm smile are incredibly inviting, and you hope you will see him more often from now on. “I’ll take five, then.”

“Great choice,” the boy says cheerfully, immediately getting to work. “I’m Taehyun, by the way. Are you the new girl living with the sorcerer? It’s a bit novel for us that you’re here since they used to always stay at the tower.”

You smile, making a noncommittal noise. “I’m Y/N. And I think this is new for everyone involved.”

“I’m glad you’re here. It would be a waste for someone so pretty to rot away at the tower,��� Taehyun claims, handing you a bag of the best sweet potatoes that he could pick in their batch.

“Stop flirting with the customers, son,” the elder farmer scolds, glancing between you and Taehyun.

Your cheeks burn due to the unexpected compliment. While you are used to your friends telling you that you’re pretty, it’s quite different when it comes from someone you don’t know. “It’s okay, sir. Thank you.”

Taehyun grins, his doe eyes lighting up. “Do you need any more help? I want to ask you some things,” he says, and you turn to his father with furrowed brows.

“What about—”

“Don’t worry, Miss. I’m not that old.” He chuckles, letting Taehyun do whatever he wants. “Besides, you were always curious why I don’t regard the sorcerer with the same apprehensiveness as the others, no?”

You blink at the man. “I suppose yes, but how is that—”

“I have magic,” Taehyun answers simply. “It’s nothing quite grand like the sorcerer’s, but I have it. Look.” Lifting up a sweet potato, Taehyun makes it float in the air, just above his hand. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the potato vanishes and appears back in its original box.

“Woah. That’s still impressive,” you say. “Isn’t it rare, still? To have magic.”

“I think so. But apparently, I wasn’t powerful enough to be allowed to study about it more in the capital.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You pout, but Taehyun shakes his head.

“Don’t be. I learned all I needed to know on my own. And now I get to help my parents with the farm, and don’t have to leave them.” Taehyun smiles, sharing a fond look with his father. 

“That is admirable.” You nod, your affection growing for the boy in front of you with every passing second. Besides, you’re possibly going to see him more often, so why not make a new friend?

“So would you like any help? I can carry a lot on my own.” Taehyun speaks proudly, and you giggle, watching him flexing his arms the tiniest bit just to show off.

“If it is okay with your father that I steal you for myself, then I wouldn’t mind another hand, since Heeseung decided to miss out today,” you agree, your heart swelling at the sight of Taheyun’s toothy smile.

“Completely okay,” the farmer says, shaking his head amusedly.

“So, what are you looking for?” Taehyun claps his hands, plastering himself to your side. “I can recommend all the best stands for everything.”

“That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’m really just trying to spend the most time possible with you.”

You giggle again, taken aback by the boy’s frankness. “I’m not that special, you know?”

“And yet you’re all I want to see.” Taehyun’s lines are smooth, making your face feel hotter than the sun. “Come on, would you like to know where to get the best bread around here?”

And so you follow. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have let Taehyun help you all the way back to the tower, but he was so insistent. You couldn’t tell him no. Especially with his large deer eyes. They almost reminded you of Heeseung’s. 

Almost.

Until he stands in the kitchen, looking well-rested, glaring at Taehyun’s figure. To him, he’s a complete stranger in his home, and you invited him in without asking for permission.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing at Taehyun who has been diligently helping you put all your newly acquired items away. He intended to stay in his study until you’d call for him, but then he heard laughter bouncing off the walls of the tower, and it filled him with dread. “I let you out by yourself once, and you bring a stranger to my home?”

“Technically, it’s also my home for the next ten years,” you argue, shaking your head. “And Taehyun is very sweet.” Smiling at him, Taehyun gives you a grateful nod.

“Just because you think someone is sweet, doesn’t mean it’s still not dangerous to let a stranger into the Tower.” Heeseung scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you realise how dangerous that is? Maybe I shouldn’t let you go out anymore…” he speaks to himself, but you and Taehyun can hear him perfectly well.

“You can’t be serious. Just because the other girls were fine staying inside, I’m most definitely not going to be,” you say, putting your foot down.

“It would be for your own good,” the sorcerer says matter-of-factly.

“My good, or your benefit?” You raise a brow at him. Heeseung’s face contorts in anger for the briefest of moments before he schools his expression, staring you down.

“My benefit? You think any of this is beneficial to me?” he asks you calmly, but it’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded with fury. “I have been fighting whatever creatures come outside of the forest for centuries, and I don’t even know why, or why I have to. How in the world could that be beneficial to me?” The question is aimed at you, but it’s clear that it is rhetorical — something he has long given up on finding the answer to.

If you weren’t furious with the sorcerer, you would’ve empathised with him, but all you could hear in your head right now was his threat to keep you locked away in his tower by the forest. “Sorry, I misspoke,” you correct yourself, frowning. “I just meant that you’re the reason why I even have to be here.”

“You think I enjoy that?” Heeseung tilts his head, glaring at you this time. “Fine! Whatever. You are free to leave of your own free will, Y/N. Since you’re, oh, so fine without me.” He says, looking at Taehyun this time. A different emotion flashes in his eyes as he presses his lips tightly together. “I’m sure he would love to protect you anyway,” Heeseung scoffs and runs a hand over his face. 

Your face falls as you glance at Taehyun and then look back at Heeseung. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N—” Taehyun attempts to speak, but Heeseung only laughs. It’s such a deprived sound it almost scares you.

“Are you telling me you don’t know that the person you brought here is currently the youngest Sorcerer General? That he works for the capital as one of the most powerful sorcerers aside from me?” 

“What?” This time, you turn to Taehyun fully. “But you said— did you lie to me?” you ask softly, and as Taehyun apologetically stares down at his feet, licking his lips, you know that he, in fact, did lie to you. “Was the farmer truly your father?”

“Yes! Yes, he was!” Taehyun exclaims immediately, shutting his eyes close tightly before meeting yours again. “That’s why I came to the village. Because he told me that Heeseung has been coming there with you… so the capital sent me.”

“Oh.” You step away from Taehyun, not knowing how to feel. “But you still lied to me.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry— I just didn’t want to scare you off—”

“So you made up a whole lie about how you were helping at the family farm with your magic?” you scoff, shaking your head.

“You should’ve been honest with her.” Heeseung chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Y/N is the most honest person I’ve ever met, so the truth would have hardly scared her off.”

You look at the sorcerer, surprised to hear those words leave his mouth. You’re never sure what exactly he thinks of you, but somehow, knowing that he considers you an honest person warms your heart. He certainly must’ve met many liars in his lifetime. And Taehyun is clearly one of them.

“Yes. So whatever you or the capital want from me, or from Heeseung, just leave us alone. Let them know he’s doing his job just fine.”

“Is he, though?” Taehyun questions, staring at you. “He did let you out of his sight this morning.”

“I have protections placed on me,” you claim, but Taehyun laughs dryly.

“If you mean that flimsy scuffed cloak, then I doubt it was powerful enough to protect you from a monster that wants to directly attack you,” he says, unimpressed. “So, I’d dare say he should do his job better.”

“You little—”

“Don’t.” You sigh tiredly, stepping in front of Taehyun. “I can sense animosity between the two of you, but I’m not willing to hear it. I’m sorry, Heeseung, I see your point, I’ve made a mistake.”

“You don’t need to apologise to him, of all people,” Taehyun says from behind you, and you turn to face him, meeting his big eyes with a blank stare.

“Whatever your problem is with Heeseung, I don’t care. You lied to me, and I don’t appreciate it. The last thing you get to do is insult Heeseung under his roof.” You place your hands on your hips, frowning. “Either be nice, or stay quiet.”

Taehyun clenches his hands into fists, glaring back at Heeseung. But he gives in, sighing in defeat. “He’s not just the reason you have to be living in this tower for the next ten years, you know?” He tells you quietly, enough for Heeseung not to hear. “He’s also the reason the Forest is as dangerous as it is. That’s why he’s the only one tasked with fighting it. So don’t think he’s being honest with you either.”

Colour drains from your face as you listen to him. This time, you’re certain it is the truth because of the graveness in Taehyun’s voice. Though you don’t understand why he’s being secretive about it. Why doesn’t he say it directly even to Heeseung?

Shaking his head, Taehyun moves to leave. “If you ever need help, let me know. I’ll be around, making sure that Heeseung is doing his job well.”

“Dickhead,” the taller sorcerer murmurs under his breath even before Taehyun departs entirely, possibly having heard him. But he didn’t react in any way, simply leaving you alone with Heeseung once again.

You look at Heeseung, not knowing what to think of him now. Though when he smiles at you as if nothing happened, you want to forget Taehyun’s harrowing words.

“Do you need any help with breakfast? I can fry eggs.”

Despite Taehyun’s words, you continued going to the market on your own. You noticed a deer following you around whenever you did so, and you assumed it was another one of Heeseung’s protective precautions to keep you away from danger.

Whenever you come across Taehyun now, he has this distinct look on his face of sharing a secret with you that Heeseung doesn’t know about. Of course, you didn’t tell him. How could you relay such information onto him, not knowing how he’d take it? How would one react to finding out they are the reason so many lives are in danger?

“Ah, crap!” you curse under your breath after what feels like the millionth time of failing to strike the correct chord on the guitar from Jongseong. It shouldn’t be difficult considering your expertise with the violin, but you’re struggling regardless. 

You close your eyes, knowing it’s probably because you can’t focus. You keep thinking back to Taehyun’s words and how it’s somehow his fault that the forest is dangerous. Which also means he is the reason why you’re in danger, and why the forest wants to take you. Though you don’t know how, or what it means.

“Do you plan to torture the poor instrument for long?” Heeseung, as if hearing your thoughts, appears in the music room with a soft, amused smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry,” you say instantly, looking up at him. “I simply can’t seem to figure it out.”

“Allow me.” Heeseung steps closer to you, outstretching his hand to take the guitar.

You let him, watching him nestle next to you on the small sofa that you had chosen for practice. With a smile, he begins playing a song that both sounds foreign and familiar to you. The melody begins merrily, yet as it goes on, the song turns into a mixture of fury and betrayal. A tale that strikes to the very core of your heart, leaving you breathless. 

“What song was that?” you ask once the sorcerer is finished. 

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “It’s just been on my mind for a while…” Heeseung tries to hide his confusion, but not even he knew that these emotions have been festering within him.

“Here.” He hands the guitar back to you. 

Accepting it, you let the instrument sit on your lap while Heeseung moves to kneel on the ground in front of you. He’s tall enough to still be at eye level with you, and you startle when his fingers brush against your hand. 

“Sorry, allow me,” he says quietly, taking your hand in his and placing your fingers on the strings of the guitar. “I’m going to teach you some basic chords first, so you don’t torture the guitar at random.”

You blink at him, not sure how to react. With the sorcerer this close to you, it’s hard to process anything, let alone his words. All you can hear is intense buzzing in your ears, and the storm within your heart. 

Gulping, you nod carefully. Heeseung smiles, guiding your fingers along the strings to show you each chord, making sure that you understand everything perfectly. 

It becomes easier when you know the chords. Now that you can connect each sound to what you already know, it doesn’t seem as difficult anymore. With a grin, you find yourself playing the very melody Jaeyun and Sunghoon composed, and it makes you miss home — though in a good way.

Being here means they are safe. That is what matters most. 

“You’re a natural,” Heeseung says, but the proud feeling is gone within moments.

He makes an expression unfamiliar to you as his eyes roam the music room, and you wonder what he is thinking. He abruptly stands up instead, walking toward the window with a frown.

“Stay here,” he commands, closing the window. You shouldn’t be surprised when he disappears as fast as he appeared, but it hurts the tiniest bit.

You watch him head to the forest from your closed window, wishing for him to have told you that he had sensed danger and needed to leave instead of departing almost without a word. 

After hours had passed, you considered running to the village over to find Taehyun so he’d help you find Heeseung somewhere inside the Forest. But as you open the door of the Tower, Heeseung comes stumbling through the entrance, collapsing on the floor with blood splattered all over his clothes. 

“Heeseung!” You cry out, going to examine him and his wounds instantly. He groans when you turn him to his back, and you notice a large bite from what you can only assume was an oversized wolf on his shoulder. “What happened?” you mumble. 

“Your music,” Heeseung whispers. “It’s—”

“No, shh.” Putting your hand over his mouth, you shut him up. “I need to treat your wounds first. Then you can explain yourself,” you say, heart pounding in your ears. 

Heeseung is an immortal sorcerer. This is probably not as severe as it looks to him, but it doesn’t change the fact that it worries you. That you are worried for him.

From the kitchen, you grab a dittany solution and a piece of cloth to wash the wound with, before finding a kit for wound-treating in the bathroom.

Your hands shake while you tear Heeseung’s tunic off of him for better access to the wound. It allows you to see not only his toned chest and stomach, but also the many scars that tatter his honey-coloured skin. 

Pouring the solution over his shoulder, you ignore the hiss he lets out, grateful that he isn’t fighting you. 

You do your best to wash the bleeding wound before dressing and wrapping it in bandages. See, being close to three boys of your age gave you some expertise in treating wounds, but it had never been this severe before. It was never a large bite from a monster of the Forest. 

“I need to get you to your room,” you say weakly, wrapping your arm around Heeseung’s torso. “Can you move?” 

The sorcerer doesn’t respond with words, but he doesn’t let you use all your strength to carry him around either. While most of his weight is still on your shoulders as he drapes his arm over your shoulders, he does his best to walk on his own. 

You never complained about the stairs in the Tower before, but today is the day when they seem to be your absolute doom. Luckily, Heeseung’s bedroom is not too far up. 

Huffing and puffing by the time you reach the door to Heeseung’s room, you’re happy to find relief in opening the door that leads into a large bedroom with… almost nothing inside. Sure, there are some books and a desk, but other than a bed, the room is painfully empty and plain.

You have no time to question it. Instead, you lead Heeseung toward his bed, helping him lie down. But when you want to leave him to rest, he grabs your wrist, not letting you go.

“Heeseung, you need to rest.”

“Don’t leave,” he says, shaking his head. “Stay, please.”

“Heeseung—”

“I need you here.”

“That’s—”

Heeseung, with what strength he has left, pulls you toward him onto the bed. You fall on top of his chest with a yelp, and you seem to be the only one bothered about it. Especially when the sorcerer wraps his arms around you, refusing to let go of you.

“It’s you the Forest wants. He won’t let you go. I can’t protect you if you’re not with me,” he rambles into your hair, strangely frantic. Though you write it off as a side-effect of his injury.

“He can’t have you, Eunjin. Please don’t leave me. You’re my heart.”

Eunjin.

Who’s Eunjin?

When Heeseung wakes up, it’s in a cold sweat. The room spins in his vision, and when it finally settles on the open window, he can only feel a strange sense of emptiness. 

Attempting to move is a terrible idea. Heeseung groans in pain, hand reaching for the bandaged shoulder that you treated. The wound is still fresh, but you made sure to keep it from getting infected. 

His recollection of yesterday’s events is blurry, but he does remember you helping him to his room and him asking you to stay. So finding his room cold and empty without your presence hurts. Not that he would admit such a thing out loud. 

Heeseung is supposed to be the aloof,  mysterious and brooding sorcerer from the Tower, yet you’ve made him smile more times than he can count in the past months that he fears more than usual for your safety. 

He always managed to keep a professional relationship with the other women during his time as Keeper of the Forest, one could say, because keeping distance between himself and people who didn’t want to be here was never hard. However, it proves to be difficult with you. Especially when you act like you actually enjoy his company rather than him being a nuisance in your corner. 

You enter Heeseung’s room without knocking. Though in your defence, you did not expect him to be awake just yet. Breakfast is clutched in your hands, ready to be served to Heeseung on an actual silver platter. 

“Oh. Good morning,” you say softly with a tiny smile. “Are you feeling alright?”

The sigh of relief that leaves Heeseung’s lips at the sight of you and the knowledge of your safety is unfamiliar to him. Obviously, he has always worried for the women staying with him, but never this much. Not when he is the one who got hurt. 

Besides, they never brought him breakfast to bed either. In fact, nobody has ever done that, as far as Heeseung is aware. So maybe the way his heart begs to jump out of his chest when you approach him is an entirely reasonable reaction. 

“I could be better,” Heeseung replies quickly, when he notices a frown forming on your lips because he was quiet for too long. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he says. 

“But you got hurt.” You shake your head in disapproval. “I feel like this is the least I can do,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

A sigh of defeat leaves your lips. One that Heeseung is familiar with as he has felt powerlessness many times before. But the last thing you are is powerless. You don’t even know it, but the reason Heeseung had to leave yesterday was specifically because you’re too powerful.

Your music is its own kind of magic, and unfortunately, it lures the creatures of the Forest directly to you. But Heeseung can’t tell you that. Music is an important part of your life, and he’s willing to fight whatever comes for you rather than disappoint you or make you upset. 

There is also this underlying feeling of having come across this kind of magic before. It was from… he cannot not remember who had the magic or when exactly in his life he came across it. Yet he knows it’s important. This person who wielded this magic meant something. Whoever they were. 

“All I need from you is to be safe,” Heeseung says almost too intimately, surprising even himself. Your lips part in shock as you stare at him, hands tightly gripping onto the tray with breakfast. 

Gulping, you nod. “I am safe.” 

You dare moving closer to Heeseung, offering the freshly made breakfast to him with a timid smile, which he accepts gratefully. It isn’t just the tea you prepared that makes him feel warm inside. 

“Please, rest now. I promise not to leave the Tower while you recover,” you reassure the sorcerer.

“But how will you—”

“I wrote to Taehyun,” you reply, and Heeseung hates the pang of jealousy he feels within his heart at the mention of the other sorcerer. “I know he’s been keeping an eye on us, so it was easy to contact him and ask for a small favour.”

“You mean turning him into a delivery man?” Heeseung's brow raises, and you shrug.

“It’s the least he can do.”

Heeseung snorts, amusement filling his bones. Of course, you would be the one to reduce a Sorcerer General of a large army to something as measly as a delivery man. 

And the best part about it? Taehyun is going to do it.

“Thank you,” you say to Taehyun when he enters the Tower with bags of ingredients. Since Heeseung got hurt, you plan to make a large lunch and dinner to help him recover faster. 

“No problem.” The man shrugs. “You had something to ask me?” he adds, since your request for groceries was not the only one you made in your message to him. 

Pursing your lips, you nod. Leading Taehyun into the kitchen to put away the food, you think of the best way to form your question. Though the base is simple: you want to know more about Heeseung. Things that not even he knows, it seems. 

“Oh.” He chuckles in understanding. “You want to know what I meant before.” Looking at you, his brows furrow. “Why the sudden interest? Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “I just want to know what you meant by it,” you argue. “How can the Forest be Heeseung’s fault only?”

“It’s simple, isn’t it?” Taehyun answers with a question of his own. “It’s a curse that he’s not aware of because the curse itself makes him forget. He doesn’t know it himself, but he’s far older than two centuries.”

“He is?”

Taehyun nods. “I don’t know that much myself, but his history is something sorcerers study in the capital. It’s just that all the details are very blurry and every book that mentions him is merely a different interpretation of what could have happened rather than what truly did happen.

“A detail that remains the same, however, is that there used to be seven of them. Seven Sorcerer Guardians who protected a princess of the Old Kingdom. She was a powerful priestess and her magic was beyond anyone’s understanding, so she created these seven sorcerers who helped her as her power grew. But she died alongside them in a war that destroyed the Old Kingdom, and unlike her, the seven sorcerers were reborn in a completely new world with magic that likely came from the princess.

“Nobody knows where the other six sorcerers are. They’re likely alive and well, but we’re not sure where they are nor who they are. But Heeseung… The power he wields now is only a sliver of what he had two centuries ago due to a curse of an unknown origin to us all. And the speculation is that the power that he lacks is now what makes the Forest what it is.”

“Which is why he’s the only one fighting it…” you finish for Taehyun, and he hums. 

“I’m not saying he’s a monster or anything. It’s just that there is so much we don’t know about him.”

“I understand.” You nod. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Where is he anyway? Are you alright?” Taehyun worries for you, and you chuckle. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. But Heeseung got hurt last night, so I don’t want to leave him here all alone.”

“He’d be fine,” Taehyun scoffs. “We heal faster than normal people. Immortality and all that.” He continues to help you put things away in silence for barely a minute before speaking again. “You’re different from the other women Heeseung has protected in the past,” he claims. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at Taehyun. “Am I?”

“Something is different about you.” Taehyun nods. “Your aura is so much more… it’s stronger. Like… I think you have magic, Y/N.”

“What? No.” You shake your head in denial. “How could I have magic? Am I not way past the age for finding that out?”

“Magic manifests in many ways, Y/N. Yours could be so subtle nobody ever noticed, but it is there. It’s strong, just not… obvious,” Taehyun disagrees with you.

“But then… why wouldn’t Heeseung tell me that?”

“Why would he tell you that?” Taehyun counters. “I think he’s scared, Y/N. The Forest behaves differently than it used to. It no longer searches anywhere. It’s dormant.”

“But Heeseung fought some creatures yesterday.”

“Because something called them forth. I monitored the Forest’s activity, and it was like… they found what they were looking for last night.”

“Wait…” you pause, staring at Taehyun. “If you were monitoring the Forest, why didn’t you help Heeseung?”

“It’s not in my jurisdiction.”

“Bullshit,” you spit, shaking your head. “You could’ve prevented his injury.”

“He’ll be fine, Y/N.”

“But he’s not fine now!” you counter, shaking your head. “He was partly delirious yesterday and… he called me Eunjin.”

Taehyun’s face turns grave at the mention of the name. “Eunjin’s dead,” he says with a deadpan.

“Yeah? I figured,” you scoff. There are many things you could guess based on what Heeseung said last night. But you did not like the way it made you feel. 

“Eunjin was different from the other women Heeseung has protected,” Taehyun sighs, offering an explanation in an attempt to quell your indignation. “She was a sorceress studying in the capital before, you know, the mark.” Taehyun points at the one you have on your wrist.

“And she died? I never heard of anyone dying—”

“It was covered up well,” Taehyun says. “Besides, we don’t really know if she died. All we know is that she went into the Forest on her own and never came back. Heeseung searched for her, I think, but she disappeared.” A frown settles on Taehyun’s lips, and you study him with your head tilted to the side. 

“She’s the reason you don’t like Heeseung,” you say matter-of-factly.

Taehyun chuckles, shaking his head. “That obvious, huh?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “Eunjin was my best friend in the capital; we studied together. She was… stronger than me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you say, moving toward Taehyun with uncertain steps. Not that long ago, you were still upset with him, but now you want to comfort him somehow. The way he looks at you, with big sad eyes, you can’t resist the urge to take his hand in yours and offer a warm smile. 

“You really need to be careful around him.” Taehyun looks at you solemnly, covering your hand in his. “Eunjin wanted to go into the Forest because of him. Please, don’t make the same mistake.”

“I won’t.” You can’t promise that. 

Taehyun smiles ruefully. “Who’s the liar now, huh?” He clearly wants to say something else, perhaps a wish that should not be spoken aloud, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Y/N, I think my wound started healing—” Heeseung walks into the kitchen, watching you jump away from Taehyun, yanking your hand out of his grip. Confused, Heeseung glances between you and Taehyun. 

“Woah, that— that is great news!” you exclaim hastily, a large grin breaking across your lips as you pretend not to have learned about Heeseung’s past. 

“See, I told you he’d be fine,” Taehyun adds lamely in an attempt to resume the conversation.

“It’s a relief.” You nod. “Do you need anything, Heeseung? More food? Water? Tea? Coffee?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Heeseung gives you a weird look. He knows you’re hiding something, but doesn’t press the issue with Taehyun right next to you.

“You do realise you’re not his maid, right?” Taehyun raises his brow at you. 

“Taehyun—”

“Would you prefer it if she was yours?” Heeseung challenges in turn. 

“She’s not property to give out like that.” Taehyun glares at the other sorcerer. 

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you say firmly, fixing both men with a stern stare. It’s especially pointed at Taehyun because of the conversation you two shared literally moments ago. “I know you two have issues, but do not make me a ball the two of you get to kick around to prove a point.” 

This gets both sorcerers to look at you, their expressions turning apologetic.

“I’m my own person, and I can do whatever I want. If I want to offer Heeseung a cup of tea then I can do that,” you say, looking at Taehyun. They seem to look regretful now, realising that their words may have been hurtful toward you, when that is the last thing they intended. “I think it’ll be better if you leave now, Taehyun.”

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I’ll walk you out.”

tags: @moonpri @addictedtohobi @superbbananananana @strayy_kidz

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you��ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Paint Me

Benedict Bridgerton x inexperienced!american!fem!reader

summary: After a brutal critique of a newly displayed art piece in a museum, newly debuted reader finds herself apologizing to the artist who heard her. After multiple meetings, the time they spend together becomes precious to her. One slip up causes Benedict Bridgerton, a know “Rake” amongst the ton, to be left with the decision to marry the young woman or a duel.

part two part three part four part five part six part seven

cw: suggestive language

word count: 4k

January 28th, 1817

Your parents sat across from you in the carriage, both sets of eyes on you as you watched all of the scenery pass by in the window. You didn’t want to leave your old life behind, but you felt like you had no choice since you just wanted to please your parents. That was your biggest problem; wanting to please everyone around you so badly that you’d sacrifice your own happiness.

You were set to be debuted the night you had arrived and were a nervous wreck. You had no interest in being married off to a perfect stranger, but you felt like you didn’t have any other choice. Maybe if you played your cards right, though, you’d be Queen’s Charlotte’s diamond of the season.

But that wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want everyone’s eyes on you and honestly couldn’t bear to be the talk of the town or worse, a victim of Lady Whistledown’s latest gossip. You wanted absolutely no part in that.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” your mother told you, almost in a mocking tone. She never cared for how reserved you were and was always trying her best to push you into friendships with people you wouldn’t have touched with a ten foot pole.

“Oh, leave her alone, Vivian,” your father nudged her. “She’s allowed to be nervous, this is her debut.”

“Well, I’m not nervous,” your sister, Lilith piped up. Of course she wasn’t. Because Lilith was perfect. The perfect eldest child that your parents seemed to favor over you no matter how close you were to your father.

You didn’t like the feeling, but you envied your sister. She was very outgoing and not to mention beautiful, two things you didn’t think you were even close to being. At least, the outgoing part. You were more reserved and had been laughed at for it your whole life.

I’m sorry, could you speak up? No one can hear you.

You’re not very talkative, are you?

Why don’t you say something?

Those words always lived in your head, and no matter how hard you tried, you always found yourself either speaking too loudly about things you were passionate about or not speaking loud enough. That would have meant that you had to take authority and you knew absolutely nothing about that.

The carriage rolled to a stop and you turned away from the window, rubbing your hands together to remove the sweat from them. You then reached up and subconsciously fiddled with the diamond necklace that your father gave you before you left America. You always wore it and it was something you messed with when you were particular nervous or needed something to stimulate your mind.

The carriage door opened and you were the first to step out, your eyes widening as they took in your new home. It was far bigger than the one you lived in back home and you wondered why that much space was needed for your family of four. The place could have easily fit many families of your size and still have room for more.

You headed inside and briefly took in the main level before making a beeline for the upstairs, desperate to see your new room since that was definitely going to be where you spent most of your time. You had a lot of new books to read and were just looking forward to it having to share with Lilith anymore.

You claimed the first room you walked into which had to be about three times the size of your old one. It was already set up with your new furniture that looked much better than your old stuff. Maybe living there wouldn’t have been so bad.

You collapsed onto your bed and felt your eyes get heavy from the very long journey you had just taken, finding yourself quickly falling asleep right there and not even fighting it. It was what you had deserved for sitting through all of your mother and sister’s comments without a single complaint.

A knock on your door woke you from your nap and you opened your eyes to see your mother standing in the doorway. She had a stern look on her face and you wondered what you had done to upset her now. It seemed like you were always doing that despite your need to please her. She never agreed with the way you spoke or the words you liked to use. She just didn’t like that you were smarter than her.

“Y/n, what are you doing in bed, you’re supposed to be getting ready.” Her voice was more angry than it should have been and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her dramatics. You had plenty of time to get ready since the ball didn’t start for a few hours.

Just then your apparently new lady’s maid hurried into the room with your dress for the evening which you hadn’t even seen yet since your mother had picked it out, but you knew that you were going to hate it since you never saw eye to eye on anything, especially clothing. Your mother stepped into the room and closed to door with every intention of making sure that you actually wore the dress since you always seemed to want to change last minute.

The dress was a shade of green that wasn’t flattering on you in the slightest. Your mother fluffed up the sleeves as she looked at you in the mirror. If you were honest, you hadn’t even wanted to go to the ball, but you felt like you had to. You just wanted to make her happy even if you had to sacrifice your own happiness to do it. She had been so excited for you, but you knew that was just because she was interested in finally getting rid of you for good.

“Well, don’t you look absolutely beautiful,” your father complimented as you descended the stairs. He looked at your mother and gave her a slight glare when she hadn’t said anything to you. Your mother honestly didn’t like the way you looked at all and didn’t feel like she should have lied to you, so she just directed her attention to Lilith like always.

“Y/n, doesn’t your sister look beautiful?” You felt your heart break at hearing those words. How could she say that? Your sister did look beautiful but didn’t you as well? Why were you always second to her? Why did it always feel like it wouldn’t have mattered if you were there or not? Sure, your father cared for you like a parent should have, but it almost felt like he was only behaving that way because he felt bad for you. At least, that was what you were telling yourself.

“You do look beautiful, Lilith,” you practically whispered, staring down at the floor. You found it hard to maintain eye contact so you always settled for something else, whether it was the floor or the wall. Just as long as it wasn’t other people’s eyes, it was safe.

“Thank you, y/n,” she nodded. “I suppose you look beautiful too.” Her tone sounded annoyed, almost as if she was forcing herself to say the words. You almost wished she had said nothing, but Lilith always found an excuse to speak, no matter what came out of her mouth. You were convinced that she just loved hearing her own voice.

You said nothing and turned on your heel, keeping your eyes on your feet at you did so. You wiped a tear that had fallen down your cheek and headed towards the carriage that had been waiting for you and your family. You got inside and moved closer to the window, covering your face with your hand so no one could see you crying. Your mother and Lilith would have just told you that you were being dramatic and your father would baby you and you weren’t in the mood for either of those things. You just wanted to get the night over with so you could go to your room and paint. That was the only way you were able to deal with your feelings. You surely couldn’t take them out on your family, so you had to deal with them in healthy way and painting was the only thing that seemed to relax you.

The carriage door opened once again and your father slipped inside, taking the seat next to you. He silently wrapped his arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder, suddenly having a flashback to crying into that very spot when your mother had said something you hadn’t particularly liked. He was always there when you needed him, the only person in that damn family that even bothered to understand you. He rubbed up and down your arm and you sniffled, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said. That was all he always said when the cycle would repeat itself and even though it was nice that he was making an effort to make you feel better, you didn’t appreciate that he never stood up to your mother or your sister even. He didn’t defend them, but he definitely didn’t put a stop to their behavior either. Because to his core, your father was nothing but a coward. He’d rather just comfort you in secret instead of actually doing something useful. His words were becoming pointless and you were beginning to not believe them anymore. After all, they were only said to stop your tears, not because they had any actual meaning.

“It’s okay,” you nodded, leaning up to look up at him. The look on his face seemed apologetic at first glance, but you knew it was nothing but fake. Just a way to stop the waterworks so you could all be a “happy” family again.

Your mother and Lilith sat on the other side of the carriage and it rolled onto the path to take you all to the ball. The silence between the four of you was deafening and despite you looking out the window, you could feel your mother’s eyes on you. You could tell she was glaring at you, but you honestly couldn’t have cared less. She could be mad at you all she wanted, it was always going to be because you were just being yourself and not an exact replica of her like your sister was. You had tried so hard to be like her, but eventually you got tired of it and your mother couldn’t stand having a daughter that liked things that she didn’t. God forbid you had your own interests.

You swore that she was going to make a snide comment, but she kept quiet. You kind of preferred her speaking over the quiet, because at least then, you’d have something to focus on so all of your thoughts in your brain would mute a little bit. Anytime there was any silence or when you were alone, all of your anxieties would amplify to the point where you could barely think. You always needed some sort of distraction to keep you sane.

The four of you planted your fakest smiles onto your faces and entered the ball that Lady Bridgerton happened to be hosting, trying your best to look like you hadn’t just had the most tense carriage ride in history. That was all going to be left behind and you all had to act like you actually loved each other. Easier said than done.

You slowly distanced yourself from your family before placing yourself by the nearest wall. You definitely weren’t going to speak to any suitors and most definitely weren’t going to dance with any of them either. That was all Lilith. You were sure she was going to end up engaged by the end of the night and you’d be alone just like always, but that was how you liked it.

“That is a lovely dress.” You turned to your left to see the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. She had lovely brown skin and her pink dress complimented it beautifully. Her hair was put up in an elegant updo and you hoped that someday, you’d look half as pretty as she did. You looked around to see who she was speaking to and realized that you were the only one around.

“My apologies,” she smiled. “Viscountess Bridgerton, but you can call me Kate. And who might you be?” Bridgerton? So that must have been Anthony’s wife that Francesca had told you about in her letters when the two had tied the knot a few years ago. She was even more beautiful than she was described. You turned back to the woman in front of you and remembered that she had asked you a question. What was it? Oh right, your name. What was that again?

“I’m y/n,” you told her as your eyes moved to decorations that were on the wall a few feet behind her. Kate nodded, a smile on her face, thinking that you were nothing but adorable and found that you reminded her of her little sister, Edwina. And because of that, she felt the need to help you out. To protect you. She didn’t know you, but she wanted to help you find the perfect match.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss y/n,” she smiled wide and for whatever reason, it made you feel better. For once, talking to someone didn’t feel like a chore and it seemed like Kate was genuinely interested in having a conversation with you and not doing it just because she had to. She could see the anxiety and nervousness in your eyes and just wanted to help you out, to let you know that you had a friend. Someone who would make you feel less alone.

“You too,” you nodded and she gestured to the refreshment table with her hand.

“Would you like to get a drink?” All you could do was nod and she led you in that direction, greeting people on her way as she did so. Kate carried herself with such confidence that you were mesmerized by. You had confidence, but not in that way. You could have never just walked up to a stranger like she did and introduced yourself. That was a terrifying thought to you and the way she did it without a second thought was fascinating.

Kate grabbed a cup filled with lemonade and handed it to you before taking one for herself. You took a sip then looked around the room, your eyes catching on a familiar face. The gentleman made his way over to you, a wide smile on his face as he engulfed you in a hug.

“I see you’ve met the troublemaker,” Anthony winked at you and you felt yourself blush. It was a nickname the boys had created for you since you had been anything but a troublemaker. They just always liked to tease you as if they were your own brothers.

“Oh, have I?” Kate let out a laugh as Anthony draped an arm over her shoulder. They seemed to be just as in love as Francesca had said.

“It’s what we used to call her when she was little because she’s the exact opposite of trouble.” He was laughing a little too hard and your cheeks were flushing in embarrassment. Kate nudged Anthony once she caught sight of the embarrassed look in your face.

Looking at Anthony, all of the memories you had of him came flooding back. He was always there for you when you got hurt, acting as an honorary big brother when something went wrong. You honestly missed him and hated that you had been from him and his family for so long.

Benedict stood by the entrance of the building with his mother, Violet. He honestly had no interest in being there, but he couldn’t say no to his mother. Other than Gregory, he was the only Bridgerton son who hadn’t been married and even though he had expressed no interest in it, he still wanted to keep his mother happy by attending the balls.

If he had it his way, he’d be at the studio with one of the women he had been sleeping with or working on his piece for the gallery that was supposed to happen in a few weeks. He had barely even started it and probably would have been at least halfway through it if he hadn’t agreed to come to the ball that night That was his priority at the moment, not finding a wife like his mother had so desperately wanted him to do.

He locked eyes on you talking with Kate and Anthony and figured that you must have been one of the new debutants since he hadn’t seen you before. At least, he didn’t think he had. He would have remembered a beautiful woman like you. His brother seemed to be talking you like you were old friends so he wondered just who you were.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Violet leaned over to him as she noticed Benedict watching you. Had he been staring? He swore he had only just glanced.

“Mother-“ He agreed to showing up, but he never said anything about dancing. He just liked to observe. And he wanted to observe you.

“Benedict.” Her voice was filled with warning and even at his age, he was still kind of afraid to disappoint her, even though he had done that enough already. He couldn’t do it again.

“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll dance with her.” He turned to his smiling mother then made his way towards you, putting on his signature smile that always made women fall to his feet. He absolutely loved seeing the way they would do whatever he asked as soon as he gave them a flash of his teeth. He wondered if you would do the same.

The conversation halted as Benedict stood behind you. You turned around and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the man. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You wondered what he wanted from you and began to fiddle with your necklace again, assuming that he was possibly going to ask you to dance. You were going to say no, of course. You couldn’t dance with anyone. You would just look weird and awkward and be too aware of your movements. You honestly weren’t even sure if you knew the correct steps.

“Benedict,” Anthony greeted his brother. That was Benedict? You supposed it made sense since you hadn’t seen him in eight years. He had gotten so much taller than you now, the top of your head coming to his chin. And he was attractive. Much more so than you remembered.

“Anthony, Kate,” he nodded in their direction then averted his gaze to you, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips. Anthony knew exactly what his brother was doing. He could see the flirty look in his eyes and was going to shut whatever was going on down as soon as possible.

He had seen to many women hurt by Benedict and he wasn’t going to let you be one of them. Anthony didn’t know you, but what he did know was that you were definitely out of his league. You were sweet and kind and Benedict was nothing but a jackass. Anthony wasn’t going to let your heart get broken by his stupid brother who never seemed to be able to keep his dick in his pants.

“And you are?” He didn’t remember you? You supposed that eight years was enough time to forget about someone, but you honestly thought he would have remembered you just like Anthony had. And you had spent much more time with Benedict when you were children so you didn’t know why the memories of your weren’t clicking in his brain.

“Benedict, this is y/n,” Anthony reminded him as if it was something that Benedict should have known, but that name was not ringing any bells whatsoever.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss y/n,” he greeted, his tone more professional but still a little flirty. “Would you like to dance?” He held his hand out to you and you stared at it, knowing that if you didn’t, your mother would find out and give you a lecture, but if you did, all of three steps would mix together in your head and you’d fall flat on the floor and everyone would laugh at you.

You nodded and hesitantly put your hand in his, letting him lead you out onto the floor, looking back to Kate and Anthony, hoping that they would save you, but they just gave you warm smiles as you got further and further away from him.

Benedict stopped to the far left of the floor and rested a hand on your shoulder blade while the other took your hand. You turned your head to the side, looking around the room and he looked down at you, realizing that you had no idea what you were doing and decided that he was going to have to teach you how to do the dance.

He took your other hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile even though you weren’t paying attention. You were still looking around the room, nervousness obvious in your eyes. Weren’t you just a shy, little thing. He could have taught you so many things, but tonight, he’d stick with the waltz.

He leaned down so his lips were right by your ear and your breath hitched at his closeness. His hot breath on your skin as he whispered to you. No man had ever been that close to you and it was making you nervous.

“Just follow my lead, I’ve got you.” He leaned back up and watched you turn your face back to him, giving him a small nod. He smiled down at you as the dance began. You moved around the floor, Benedict taking the lead, looking down at you to make sure that you were okay as he did so. All he was focused on was you. It was as if nothing else in the room mattered and he had no idea why he was so captivated by you.

He didn’t know why you were so nervous. You were a natural when it came to the waltz. And he liked watching you move along with him, seeing your dress move back and forth, wanting to run his hands up your thighs as he spread them apart, watching you come undone as he buried his head between them, licking and sucking as you grabbed onto his hair. And he’d make sure he could see your head being thrown back, hearing the delicious moans fall from your lips.

He wanted so badly to remove your dress so slowly, hearing you beg for him because he wasn’t moving fast enough. Whining his name as he took off your under garments as slowly as possible, kissing every single inch of your body as he bent you over the nearest surface he could find, pounding into you as he told you what a good little slut you were.

You both continued to move around the room gracefully and you were avoiding his eye contact still, his hazel ones boring into you, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips as he watched you. Benedict knew he’d have to dance with you more than once to hopefully bring you out of his shell. You’d definitely be a different person by the time he was done with you.

The dance finished and Benedict brought you back over to Anthony and Kate, not wanting your time together to end, but knowing that he had to dance with the other debutants to please Violet. He bowed before you and you gave him a curtesy as he bid you a goodbye.

“It was a pleasure, Miss l/n,” he said once he stood back up.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr, Bridgerton,” you smiled shyly and the man swore he was going to melt. Benedict knew that you had meant the words in the most innocent sense, but his cock, definitely didn’t. There was no hint of flirting in your tone, but he was going to pretend that there was. That the attraction wasn’t one sided.

And you had to be attracted to him, right? He knew when a woman had fancied him, but for some reason, he couldn’t get a read on you. You were going to be a tough one to crack. He’d have to spend more time with you to figure you out.

Even after he had moved on to other debutants, his mind wouldn’t leave you. He wanted to do the most filthiest things to you and knowing that you were most likely a virgin made it even more exciting. Knowing that he could have been your first sent a rush up his spine.

But he couldn’t do that to you. He just couldn’t. Considering how protective Anthony had been of you, Benedict wasn’t looking to get killed, especially not over a woman. So, after he finished the dance, he left the ball, on the hunt for someone to hook up with since anything with you was definitely off the table.

You spent practically the entire night with Anthony and Kate and for the first time, you felt like you had real friends. They both seemed interested in what you had to say and didn’t treat you like a child just because you were young. And they were respectful of your soft spoken voice, neither of them asking you to speak up or telling you that they couldn’t hear you.

You entered your bedroom with a smile on your face and got ready for bed, thinking about the new friends you had made and that you actually had a good time at the ball despite not thinking that you would. You laid down thinking that maybe, just maybe you’d actually like it there.

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2

summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.

content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)

author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)

» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.

you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.

“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.

“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”

» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.

when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”

“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”

» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.

» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.

» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.

“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.

“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.

jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”

soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.

“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.

“he is in love, boy.”

jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.

“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.

jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”

“i don't want to say it.”

“please?”

“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”

“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.

» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.

» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.

» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.

you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.

heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”

“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.

heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.

“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”

“but you were-”

“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, ���see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.

“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.

“fuck you.”

“language, boy!”

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 3

I'm living for the love for this story!! Thank you everyone!

I'm sorry to say that any requests to be added to the tag list will be ignored. It's all full up! But! You can follow me and put on notifications. That seems to work for most people!

In this we have a lot of growing pains and the girls try everything they can think of to keep Eddie home.

Part 1 Part 2

~

The next couple of days were spent ironing out of the kinks and setting expectations. Like when Steve scolded Janice for pulling on Joan’s braids and she yelled back that she wasn’t the boss of her.

Both girls went running to their dad.

Eddie looked down at his two little sun spots. “I don’t know why you’re coming to me about this, if Steve saw Jannie pulling Joanie’s hair, then he had every right to call it out. Just like Chrissy, just your uncles. He is in charge while I’m gone, so you better get used to his authority. Both of you girls go sit on your time out chairs for five minutes.”

Both girls gasped in shock, but after an intense showdown, they did as they were told.

“Thanks for that,” Steve said with a huff. “There’s always a little bit of give and take for first couple of weeks, and you laying down the law will really help that.”

Eddie smiled up at him. “It’s just been a tough year for them both. They’re old enough to remember Ethan, but young enough that it’s all the good and none of the bad. So they don’t understand why he left. I’ve been talking to a couple of therapists that think once they’re a little older, they want to start seeing both girls.”

“Nothing quite as traumatic as abandonment issues from an early age,” Steve said with a nod.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Steve sat down on the sofa with a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. Only my parents did just enough to make sure I wasn’t taken away from them. Making sure their trips would only last long enough that it would be considered child abandonment and endangerment. Sending me gifts for my birthday and Christmas, but not being there.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Then as I got into high school, sending me money for groceries and gas. As well as a hefty allowance to make sure that I wouldn’t talk. ‘Let’ me throw lavish parties and then ground me when they found out. Only they would pack up and leave, knowing I’d ignore the grounding because they were gone. Just a bunch of stupid shit like that.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “In the Hall of Fame of shitty parents, that’s really up there, man.”

Steve let out a huff of bitter laughter. “I got the last laugh though. The second I turned eighteen and finished school, I told them I was running away with my best friend and joining the circus. Then I told them I was bisexual and never looked back.”

“So how was the circus?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Not as fun as you’d expect,” Steve conceded. “Robin and I didn’t have anything like skills to be a performer, and wasn’t experienced in running the booths and rides, so we were part of the put up and take down crew.”

“So how did the nanny thing come about?” Eddie asked, crossing his legs and leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I used to babysit these kids when I was younger,” Steve said, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, “and when the one’s dad died and left a hefty life insurance to his mom. She suddenly was overwhelmed and hired me to nanny for her.”

Eddie thought back to the resumé the agency had sent over. “Mrs. Henderson, right?”

“That’s the one,” Steve leaned back on the sofa. “Dustin was a good kid. Too smart and arrogant for his own good.”

“Then of course, Mrs. Henderson recommended me to her friends,” Steve said. “One of them said they would only hire me through an agency. My ex-girlfriend happened to work at a nanny agency while she was going to school and offered to put in a good word for me.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “That was nice of an ex. I don’t know if I have any exes that would do the same for me.”

Steve just shrugged. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms either, but I used to babysit her younger siblings and knew how good I was. Nancy Wheeler is nothing but logical. She knew I would be good at it.”

“I spoke to a Nancy earlier,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “She really went to bat for you.”

“That’s Nance for ya,” Steve huffed. “Tenacious to a fault. This is her last semester at college and then she’s going to go to Emerson to get her journalism degree. She wanted to get her generals out of the way so she wasn’t paying out the ass for them.”

Eddie smiled. “Looks like I really lucked out then.”

“I guess you did,” Steve said softly. “I did too. Having you here these last couple of days have really helped out. They are still going to have the worst meltdowns during that first week you’re gone, but knowing you’ve already set the boundary they’ll only butt against it instead crossing it.”

Eddie smirked. “They’ve chased off nannies before. It’s why I have a very specific list of do’s and don’t’s with anyone I hire.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Steve chuckled. “Normally, I’d put them to bed, but because it’s your last night with them, I’d suggest you do it.”

“Of course,” Eddie said softly. “Thank you for taking good care of them, Steve. I’m really grateful to be leaving them in such capable hands. I don’t want to go on this tour, not really. But I need a break. I love my girls, but with Ethan leaving it feels like he took away my right to chose how to live my life.”

Steve got up and moved to the desk and sat down on it half way. “But at least you have the money and the wherewithal to make sure they are taken care of. Every parent needs a break once in awhile. You’ll go out there make your fans happy and then when you come back, you’ll appreciate them all the more for leaving.”

Eddie looked up at him, then his eyes fluttered shut. He pursed his lips together and leaned his head back. He opened his eyes to look at him again. “You don’t think I’m being a bad parent?”

“It does you no good to burn yourself out,” Steve soothed. “It would do them more harm if you burned out and couldn’t take care of them anymore.”

“I love them so much,” Eddie said, his lower lip quivering. “But not having any help except Chrissy occasionally made it hard.” Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Steve pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Eddie let out a watery chuckle. “You didn’t have anyone close that could help you?”

Eddie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “My former bandmates kinda scattered all over the globe. Gareth in Wales where his family is from, Jeff in New York, and Brian in LA. My uncle, Wayne broke his leg just after Ethan left and he’s just barely moving around without a cane. I couldn’t make him watch two rambunctious four year olds.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. “A lot of the nannies we had kept trying to be their mother. One was even caught trying to teach Joanie to call her Mama.”

“That’s rough,” Steve murmured. “But I’m here to help you. I’m not going to try and replace you as their dad. Or even Ethan, really. I’m just an extra person you can rely on.”

“You don’t mind setting up the household staff do you?” Eddie asked, his voice still rough from the crying. He blew his nose and then threw the tissue away in a nearby garbage. “It’s just that I want people that will work well with you and not try to fight you on every little thing.”

Steve shook his head. “No I get it. Plus getting help for a place as big as this one, I’d need the help otherwise I’d wear myself out before you got home.”

Eddie chuckled. “Do you like the house? Some of the other nannies thought it was creepy.”

“Mr. Muns–” Steve began but Eddie cut him off.

“Call me Eddie,” he said softly. “Mr. Munson makes me feel old and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“All right, Eddie,” Steve murmured back, “I think it’s spooky in a fun way. It’s not creepy. It’s beautifully decorated. I’ve seen creepy. Like tiger and elephant heads mounted on the walls with fully stuffed birds and in one horrifying case a Tasmanian wolf.”

“Aren’t those extinct?” Eddie asked with a grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, moving to sit on on the desk all the way, to put some distance between them. Before he did something stupid like kiss his boss. “I made sure to report his taxidermy to the Feds on the way out.”

“Brutal.”

“Dude was creep and his wife wasn’t much better,” Steve said with a shrug. “I felt sorry for their kids. They didn’t deserve having parents like those.”

“What made you leave?” Eddie asked, honestly curious on how Steve could have gone through so many clients considering he didn’t seem very old.

Steve kicked his feet a little, careful not to kick Eddie. “They aged out of needing one. They were already pre-teens when I got hired. They basically only needed someone to pick them up from school and make them dinner before their parents came home.”

“How long were you with them?” Eddie asked, more to keep Steve there then any real curiosity he had. Yeah, he had been curious about what made him leave, but this was blatant flirting at this point.

Steve laughed. “What’s this, more interview?” he teased. “No, in all seriousness, it was about a year. Most of my clients only need me temporarily anyway. I’m pretty sure that for at least three of them, their friends or family got to them about me being a guy, because they hired a female nanny soon after.”

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie huffed. “I’m sorry that they kept doing that to you. If anyone says anything to you, send them my direction. I’ll set them straight.”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured. He checked his watch. “It’s about time for me to make dinner.”

Eddie nodded and watched him leave. Once Steve had closed the door to his office behind him, Eddie put his head in his hands. It was so hard to keep his hands to himself when Steve was that close.

He just hoped that the three months he was going to be gone would be enough to put out the fire in his gut for his new nanny for fuck’s sake. He needed to get laid, Jesus fucking Christ!

The rest of the night passed with relative ease. Steve made meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with corn on the side.

Night time went well, too. Both girls drifting off to sleep quickly.

Morning, though? That was what was fraught with difficulties and tantrums.

Joan refused to get dressed, flopping on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. Janice dumped her cereal on the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Joan threw herself at the door while Janice tried to hide Eddie’s shoes.

Eddie stared Janice right in the eye as he pulled out another pair of shoes out of his carry-on. And then another out of his suitcase. He put the shoes back in the suitcase, but pulled on the shoes from his carry-on. All while Janice stood there with her jaw on the floor.

Steve pulled Joan away from the door so Eddie could open it and both girls started crying. Eddie hugged and kissed each girl goodbye.

Steve picked up both girls and held them up to the window so they could wave goodbye as Eddie drove off.

He set them down and they both flopped on the floor like ragdolls. He let them lay there for awhile, even taking advantage of Joan not moving to get her dressed. He put his hands on his hips it was going to be a long week. A very long week.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

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[willownwisp]

love on me

iv. you're exciting, boy come find me. (di!leon x fem reader)

author's note: yayyyyyy, fourth entry !

cw: NSFW MDNI. love hotels. p in v. oral (f receiving and m receiving).

part 4 of ree's leon valentine's advent

If he had been born under different circumstances, Leon swears he'd surely become a beach bum. Better an idle man rather than get smacked by bioweapons day in and night out, not only that, but have the top brass of good ol' U.S of A breathing down his neck constantly. Yet, he's a man who has seen things, he'd already vowed to protect whatever and whoever he can. Cold and cruel this life may be.

So he loves the warmth of the sun on him, lying down on a sun lounger sipping on dry drinks. Enjoy the view in the tropics of crystalline beaches and white sand on his feet, letting loose and relaxing himself.

Unfortunately, after the events of Alcatraz, maybe he's had enough of the sea for now. He gives himself a pat on the back, takes out a chunk of his savings to go to Japan because you've been eyeing it. You said you were interested in the food, culture, and sights.

So here he is, you in hand, his cute girlfriend clinging onto his bicep like a bunny that hopped in excitement at every interesting thing you see because you're adorable to him like that.

You were extra flirty too, Leon had chalked it up to you being over the moon because you were finally in Japan after so long of dreaming it, he's smug and pleased with himself, he likes the good boyfriend brownie points, but you had other things in mind.

"Bunny, aren't you cold?"

Leon cocked his head to the side to take a look at you, in your skirt, crop top, and cardigan combo. He's not the type of man to control women and their clothing. Come on, don't people listen to Beyonce? Girls run the world. He doesn't really know who the fuck Beyonce is but he does know Sherry listens to the song.

"Nope."

You give him a cheeky grin, shaking your head.

"Besides, you'll warm me up anyway."

You say this with a wink as you both card through the busy streets of Tokyo as Leon gives you an innocent grin, oblivious to your intent.

"Of course I would bunny. I take care of my pretty girl."

He coos, before giving you a chaste kiss on your forehead, you giggle at how he missed your innuendo before smirking.

"I wanna go somewhere."

You reply as you slide your hand to lace both your fingers together, his calloused ones enveloping your own as you all but drag him to the busy streets.

You turn him around to an alley, google maps pulled up on your free hand as you show him, what seems to be a rather flashy building illuminated by red neon lights and blinged up signs. It was like the establishment wanted to be purposefully flamboyant.

"What am I looking at bunny?"

You flash him a toothy grin, Leon knows that glint of mischief in your eyes as you reply.

"A love hotel."

Leon is floored.

"A what now? A motel? Bunny, if you were horny I'd be hauling your ass back to the hotel room right now."

He breathes out, smoke escaping from his lips as he quirks an eyebrow at you, but you giggle.

"This is different!"

No shit.

Leon thinks inwardly as sapphire eyes scan the building once more. Motels for sex used to be inconspicuous during his time. He really is getting old.

"You wanna check in bunny?"

You nod your head quite excitedly with a huge grin on her face, there's no mistaking it. Your eagerness, and Leon relents. Of course you would want a vacation and his cock. No surprise there.

Leon sighs and squeezes your hand, being the gentleman that he is, leading you inside of the garish establishment. He'd be lyin g if he says he isn't the least bit interesting, you were always the more exciting and free-spirited one.

On the reception counter, he waits for the key, with you standing just beside him, hands still entwined. As Leon grew curious, you grew embarrassed. The lobby was decorated with red. Red hearts, mirrors, sensual posters, and oh god, the brochures on a nearby rack that had photos of toys and costumes

You're fairly aware that love hotels are popular, but now that you're gonna experience this for yourself, bashfulness and your own eagerness had you blushing.

Leon could see you, feel how you'd gone and overheated in his arms and you both aren't in the room yet. He chuckles, squeezing you. You got him going now, as a shiver runs down his spine.

"Are you interested in a specific suite? You can take a look on our brochure here."

The receptionist asks and Leon shakes his head.

"We're fine with anything."

The receptionist nods, handing Leon the key as he cooly leads you to the designated room. Despite his laidback demeanor, Leon is already briskly walking, adrenaline in his veins. As you both reached the designated room, he eases the key in the lock as it opens with a low clicking sound. He leads you inside first, following behind but not before locking the door while you turn the lights on. Another clicking sound, the lighting is a kind of low red and Leon blinks as he follows in, you both inspect the room with amusement and fascination. There inside the center of the room is a queen round bed, with a heart-shaped headboard, covered in satin sheets and what seems to be a confetti of hearts on the foot of the bead, even the pillows were heart-shaped, and the most ridiculous part were the mirrors. Everywhere. Mirrors on the wall, on the ceiling, mirrors of various  shapes and sizes at each of the walls. Red, heart-shaped lounge chairs and a faux tiger rug. Gaudy as the room is, it certainly looks like a place to fuck alright. 

Your eyes slowly adjust to the light, but you were beaten by Leon, who is certainly not the least bit captivated by the interior choices. He did, however, wanted to fuck you in it. He's already dropped his coat on the floor before proceeding to toss his shirt away as he stares at you with an amused smirk while you stood speechless.

"You embarrassed now?

He asks while putting his hands on your waist before turning you around to face him. Face his smug face smirking at you.

"Who? Me?"

You reply with a cocky tone.

"Nah."

You wink at him and he chuckles, he takes your hand pulling you to him as he strides to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Figures," he shrugs "You always wanna fuck me. Don't you, bunny?"

He coos before kissing your palms, your fingertips brush across his lower lip, and he kisses your fingertips one by one, the small act only making you shiver.

"Is that a problem?"

You ask him as that familiar warmth pools in your stomach, he had just finished unbuckling his belt and is now rubbing his hands on your thighs, before peeling your skirt off of you.

He gives you that same handsome grin, there was a sparkle in his eyes and you blush. You take off the rest of your upper clothing to help him before Leon pulls you to sit on his lap, his pretty bunny.

He presses his lips into yours in a sweet kiss, before sweeping his tongue on your lower lip, a cue to open your mouth, proceeding to stick his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you and you sink into his lap. The kiss a passionate tango and as you both part for air, his lips connects to yours with a thin strand of saliva. He swipes it with his thumb before chuckling.

"You're so fucking pretty."

He breathes out before lifting you up, only to place you gently on the bed. Leon's eyes roam over your voluptuous figure, smirking at the dampness on your underwear, he kneels down, peeling that last pesky article of clothing off of you, already admiring how swollen your clit is already.

"So fucking hot too."

He murmurs against your skin as he trails kisses on your ankle, your knees, and up your thighs.

Your breath hitches on your throat, you feel yourself soaking the sheets with every kiss.

Your blissed out face doesn't escape Leon and he smirks, he presses another kiss on your pelvis, before he presses a kiss on your clit. It was like a greeting, in his silly mind.  

His cold breath against fans against your skin before he takes a long, languid lick on your pussy.

Your hands immediately reach down to grip fistfuls of his dark hair, pulling him closer as he licked over your slit, lapping at your essence.

"Fuck, Leon."

You whimper, tossing your head back and Leon smirks against your pussy. He always liked seeing you coming undone with his mouth. His tongue dips into your entrance, the wet appendage flicking and curling inside you.

He presses his thumb on your clit while his mouth still worked on you, relishing in your sweet taste and breathy moans while you could only shut her eyes closed and sob his name helplessly. He doesn't let up, he pulls his tongue out to wrap your clit in his warm mouth and sucking it, inserting two fingers inside your sopping wet pussy. Scissoring and curling inside you while his tongue flicks and sucks on the hood of your clit. It doesn't take look that you gush around his fingers in an orgasm and he smirks. He let's you breath, admiring your flushed face as he stood up. Takes his boxers off and his thick cock springs out, already erect leaking with precum. He stands beside your face. "Suck."

Despite his domineering voice, he looks at you with soft eyes and you turn your body to his direction, you sit up on the bed. With a lick of your lips, your fingers trail over his abs, before your tongue sweeps across his slit, swiping it clean with his precum and he grunts, his body tensing in your touch.

"Fuck yeah."

He hisses through gritted teeth as your tongue swirls around the head before engulfing his dick with your mouth. You dip your head, swallowing him deeper as your hands grab his waits, until his length reaches the back of your throat, knowing he was looking, you don't break eye contact and you suck his cock, thick on your tongue and rolling your eyes while he looks.

"Shit, bunny. So pretty sucking cock like that."

Leon's voice is throaty and you know he likes what he sees, his dick practically jumped in your mouth and you moan. The vibrations make him shiver violently, and he grunts.

"Goddamn."

He breathes, patting your cheeks, A signal for you to stop and you peels yourself off him with a pout like he had just taken your favorite lollipop. Which is true, he is after all, your favorite lollipop.

"Don't be upset now. You suck cock so good, I won't last long."

You both laugh in unison as he breathes in to calm himself, while stroke his cock, he twirls a finger around.

"Turn around for me, bunny. On your fours if you wanna be good."

You hum in response, turning your back to bend over for him. You arch your back, with your ass perked up against him. In that moment, you understand why Leon wanted to fuck you from behind. The image of you bent over and him standing up, his dick plush on your ass is reflected in all of the mirrors on the walls and you let out a scandalized gasp while Leon only chuckles, sensing your embarrassment.

"Wanna see you moan while I pound you into that fucking mattress."

Leon winks at you from the mirror and you see his smug expression reflected everywhere. He kisses your ass cheeks, he's too horny out his damn mind now. He's inside you with one strong thrust, his thick cock all the way inside and he shuts his eyes close. Stilling for a moment to let you adjust to his sized as you close your eyes and whimper.

"Jesus Christ… no matter how many times I fuck this pussy."

He groans, sweeping his auburn strands before steadying his grip on your waist.

"It never gets used to me. Poor little thing."

The fullness makes you squirm and he savors the addictive feeling of your walls clenching on his cock desperate to get him to just fit. You're pressed against the mattress, your pathetic moans muffled by the sheets.

When he starts to thrust, finding that rhythm, your body jerks forward with every rock of his hips. His body moves to cover your own.

"Watch us baby."

He whispers, his tongue sweeping on the shell of your ear and you could only whimper. Clutching the sheets as he finds his rhythm with his hips rocking against yours.

"Look. Don't hide."

He raps before tugging on your hair to forcibly lift up your face while his free hand tug on your arms. You find yourself feeling small with Leon's muscular body covering you. The muscles on his arm flex as both his hands are now grabbing your arms and your hair. The way his muscles pulled and flexed as his hips slams against her ass, the way your ass bounced on him, the thin layer of sweat that coated his torso, the way his mouth hung open in ragged breaths, the way your breasts bounce at every thrust. You feel so turned on at the sight it was crazy. It looked so erotic. This only elicits louder moans from you, while you move back against him, meeting his thrusts.

"Shit!" Leon groans, clenching his jaw. This positions and rhythm was blowing his mind, coupled with how your face twists into pleasure and the heat that coiled in his stomach. This was so fucking hot, he really wouldn't last long.

"Come here" He whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder, before pulling out which makes you whine in displeasure. He chuckles, both his hands grab you, picking you up. Manhandling your ass to pin you down the mattress. "Shh," he coos. "Not done with you yet bunny."

He chuckles before kissing your nose, guiding himself back inside your pussy. You chuckle as you look at the mirror on the ceiling.

"You've always had a nice ass."

You tease, despite the breathlessness of your voice and Leon only cocks his head to the side in confusion before following your line of sight, remembering that there was a mirror atop the ceiling and he chuckles, a rush of desire running through his veins with the sight of tangled limbs.

"Yeah, so?" His tone full of sass as he smirks. "Jealous much?"

You laugh as he places his fingers under your jawline, bringing your face close before crashing his lips down yours in a sloppy kiss, before moving inside you again. His pace rougher and faster, cock slamming down your pussy like a freight train as you lock your legs around his waist tight, bringing him close before you bite down on his shoulder and Leon hisses a curse.

He peels your legs off of him first before hooking your legs above his shoulders. He growls, this position slips him in deeper, and you squeeze his cock tighter.

"Holy fucking shit!

He exclaims, it's no secret that you both are vocal in the bedroom. You both love verbally assuring each other that the pleasure is mutual, you were always the louder one, but this time it was Leon. Completely pussy whipped with every clench of your walls.

"Got me drunk on this tight fucking pussy."

He grunts and your hands reach out to grab his hips, slamming down on you rougher with every thrust. Your nails digging on the flesh of his waist and he moans. His jaw slacked, sweat dripping down.

"I'm gonna cum inside yeah? Gonna fill this tight pussy up for making me this rabid."

He laughs as his thrusts become erratic. He knows you're close, just like you know that he's close as well.

"Goddamn, got me addicted to pussy."

He moans and your toes curl as he slams into you one last time. His body tensing up, shooting ropes of his cum inside you as you both climax together.

"Yeah, bunny. So good for me. Creaming on this cock like a good girl."

He soothes you, kissing your forehead as you tremble beneath him in the intensity of your orgasm, he looks at you intently. Rubbing your body gently. Not pulling out yet as you gush around his cock.

"You're so pretty when you cum."

He hums. You both cuddle up for a minute to calm down before he pulls out.

Much to Leon's surprise, you whine.

"Lovey… don't pull out yet…"

Leon chuckles, pulling you into his arms to cradle your body.

"Yeah? Give me a minute. Have mercy on the lil guy."

You giggle softly, you were feeling fuzzy and the throbbing in your pussy suggests you were not fully sated yet, and with the way Leon looks at you like a hawk, he wants another too.

"There's nothing little about that."

You retort, giving his chest a little slip and he has a proud look on his face.

"Yeah? Maybe I'll compare it with those next time. Gonna use it on you."

He winks, pointing at the assortment of toys just neatly placed on the bedside table that went unnoticed in the heat of your lovemaking, as you both share a hearty laugh.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter seven:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: brief mention of smut

➴ word count: 2.4k

➴ author’s note: is the thing people say about rainstorms before rainbows true? i guess it’s time for soph and jack to find out. “happy” reading ♡

FALLING out of love was something you had yet to experience.

Of course, back then you thought you had fallen out of love with Harris, but soon you’d realize that you had never really loved him. It was some kind of strong admiration, a need to have someone to call yours, someone who you could write love songs for, someone who you could imagine yourself getting old with.

‘Course, none of those things happened with Harris, not even during your honeymoon phase. You were young when you started dating him, twenty-one and with no real idea of what love truly was.

So an older actor who thought you were cute?

It felt like you had hit the jackpot.

But now, as you try your hardest to forget what Jack meant— means— to you, you realize that it isn’t as easy as you initially thought it would be.

Jack is everywhere, occupying every corner of your mind. You remember how sweet he’d talk to you after sex, always treating you with kindness and making sure you were well taken care of. How he’d send you memes that were purely about Hockey even if you never understood what was so funny about them, how he’d get excited talking about his job and how he’d try to explain all the terms to you.

Despite what happened, Jack had made you so happy. It was sad to think that it was all probably a joke to him, but for you? No, it was real. So real. Every time you looked at his face, you reminded yourself that some things are not meant to last forever.

But God knew how much you wanted him to be your forever.

Keeping yourself busy was easy, and you were thankful for that. Your small concert, a week ago, filled you with so much joy and contentment— you were alive and not thinking about the middle child of the Hughes family for the first time in seven months.

Grace made sure that you took enough breaks but whenever you were alone with your thoughts for a long time, the first image your brain liked to share with you was Jack’s smile and Jack’s eyes and Jack’s nose and lips.

It was tiring.

You didn’t tell anyone, but you secretly watched his games when you were alone at night. You didn’t know much, but the experts keep saying that this is Hughes’ worst season and that he’s playing like shit, which, unfortunately, made you worry.

But you wouldn’t go back, you couldn’t go back.

Sometimes, at night, you’d remember how he looked at you when you told him you were in love with him. Or how he looked when you told him to leave, so desperate for you to hear him, at least for a few more minutes.

You’d replay that day inside of your head every night, like a nighttime routine, trying to find a different, better ending.

You’d always come up empty.

Sighing, you looked at your phone, reading Grace’s text with a smile.

Grace being Grace.

Even if she technically worked for you, you’ve barely seen Grace the past couple of days. You were both so busy it was almost impossible to keep up with each other’s schedule. But you did manage to free up some space so you could at least have lunch with her, and turns out she thought it’d be cool to include Nico too.

So, lunch at Nico’s house.

You said goodbye to the people who were working with you at the GQ photo shoot and drove to his house, blasting music through your speakers. No thoughts allowed!

You rang the doorbell, waiting until Grace herself opened the door, like she owned the house. You still weren’t sure if you wanted to know what was truly happening between the two of them, so you didn’t ask questions.

“Hi, my little popstar,” Grace shouted, hugging you tightly.

“Stop putting little before every noun when you’re referring to me.” You mumbled, face still shoved in the crook of her neck.

“Why would I do that? It’s fun and true. Come inside, Nico’s ordering pizza!”

You entered the house, feeling your cheeks getting warm when you remembered what happened the last time you were here.

“Shut the fuck up, Sophia,” during sex, he only used your name whenever he was really pissed, and apparently this was one of those times. “Don’t need anyone hearing how much of a whore you actually are.”

“Fuck, uh, come for me, baby, c’mon,” Jack whispered, hands still on you, dick fucking you hard and rough, leaving your insides raw and deliciously hurting. “Come on my cock like the good girl you are.”

Well. No more of that.

“No— Man, listen. I want a large pepperoni and a large margherita, please,” Nico smiled at you before putting his hand on his head, holding his phone with the other. “Why the hell would I put pineapple on a fucking pepperoni pizza? Let me speak to your manager, that’s— that’s a crime.”

“He’s just a Swiss Karen, really,” Grace sighed, sitting on the couch. You sat next to her, watching as Hischier tried to explain to the manager why pineapples shouldn’t even be included in pizzas in the first place. “I think he’s just nervous about the games.”

“Yeah,” you wanted to tell her that you’ve been watching the games and that it didn’t look really good for them but it would just give your I’m-already-over-Jack facade away. “Must be hard.”

“Tell me about it, I barely see him. It’s like hockey players only exist during the summer or whatever.” She sighed again, fixing her braids. You looked at her, full of compassion.

If you and Jack dated, would you feel like her?

No.

You wouldn’t know the answer to that question because that won’t happen.

“Hi, Soph,” you heard the Devils’ captain say, greeting you.

“Hey there, thirteen. How are you?”

He yawned, stretching his arms. “Tired, stressed, hungry, tired.” He stopped for a second before continuing. “Have I mentioned tired?”

“Sucks to be you, to be honest,” you giggled, looking at him funny.

The pizza would take a while to get delivered— especially since Nico argued with the manager and now they were probably taking their time spitting on the dough— so you used the time to catch up on their lives.

Grace talked about how her marketing degree never prepared her for how much work she’d actually have to get done, and how much she missed her mom and dad, and how Jessica, your vocal coach, was starting to piss her off with her I-am-better-than-everyone attitude.

Nico talked about the games, and how he basically was never at home, and how he’d spend half of his time on planes and the other half on practice and yet he still felt like they weren’t going to make it.

That made you wonder how Jack was doing with all of this. If he had come back to Newark after their week away, to spend thanksgiving with his family.

Not that you cared, you just wondered.

Noticing how both Grace and Nico stayed quiet, you realized that they’re probably waiting for you to update them on your life. You smiled awkwardly.

“I have been working a lot,” you shrugged. “I love what I do so it isn’t exactly working for me. Besides that, I sleep, eat and drink water.”

They both looked at you with pity, which made your stomach ache. You didn’t want anyone pitying you, in fact, you didn’t need it. You weren’t a damsel in distress, you didn’t need to be saved— you just chose to spend your free time alone. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

“I’m gonna go grab some wine from the cellar, be right back,” Nico announced, out of nowhere, getting up and heading downstairs. Grace looked at him with puppy eyes and you laughed.

“People in love are disgusting,” you joked, and Grace rolled her eyes at you.

“Shut it, Twilight,” she laughed, not denying it. “I’m gonna go grab the glasses.”

The doorbell rang and you got up. “It looks like I’m gonna go grab the pizza.”

“Make sure they didn’t put poison in it!” Grace shouted, making her way to the kitchen, while you walked until you were in front of the door, smiling still.

“Sophia?”

Hi, Universe. It’s your girl, Sophia. So, what is this about? What are you trying to do here? Let me tell you now, it won’t work.

“Hum, hi?” It sounded more like a question than a greeting, but out of all things you would have imagined that could happen to you that day, opening the door and finding Jack on the other side of it wasn’t on your list.

“What are you,” he stuttered, clutching hard the bag he was holding in his hands. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I’m sorry.”

You leaned against the door, confusion taking over your face. Jack wasn’t the type of man to apologize so easily.

“It’s fine.”

You both went quiet, staring at each other. It was weird to be around Jack without touching him, your heart still hurting because you love him deeply.

It was the type of love you’d want to tell your children, if you decided to have them one day. The type of love where you’d come home after a long day, just to find your forever sitting on the couch, yapping about his day. The type of love you read in books and watch movies about, the type of love you want to write songs about. The type of love where his hugs feel like a cold, gentle breeze during a sunny day, and his kisses felt like the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You loved Jack Hughes deeply and he wanted him to be your forever more than anything.

But it wouldn’t happen. And it’s fine. It’d be fine.

“Do you want me to call Nico?” You whispered, averting his gaze.

“You don’t need to, I just stopped by to give him this,” he raised the bag in his hands, shrugging.

“Okay…” You nodded, not sure of what to say. “Then, I guess I’m… gonna go. Nice seeing you.” You lied, because you’d much rather keep watching him on TV, with a safe distance between you two, than to face him in real life.

“No, Soph, wait—” he called you, putting his feet between the door gap. “Can we, like, talk?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” You retorted, biting your bottom lip.

“Soph, did they spit on our pizza?” Grace’s voice sounded cheerful behind you, and you cringed, knowing exactly how she’s going to react once she sees Jack here. “I hope they only spitted on Nico’s pizza, to be honest. What are you doing there— Oh.”

You turned around and looked at her, smiling awkwardly. No one moved a muscle for at least ten seconds and you gave in, knowing that discussing things with her would be harder than hearing Jack out.

“I’ll just… I’ll be right back, okay?” You announced, pointing to Jack behind you. “It’s fine.”

“But—”

“It’s fine, Grace. Go find Nico, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to feel any shittier. Grace only stared at Jack for what seemed to be a whole minute before nodding once and making her way to Nico.

“I guess she still hates me.” Jack pointed out, chuckling humorlessly.

You turned around, raising your eyebrows at him. “Can you blame her?”

“No, not really,” he shrugged, putting the bag on the floor and putting his hands inside of his jeans’ pockets. “I get that you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you, I’m not mad at you. Hurt? Maybe. But I knew what I was getting myself into, so I guess I can’t really blame you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying really hard to be the bigger person when all you wanted to do was smash his face into a wall and kiss him right after that.

“I want you to know that I am sorry about what happened,” he stepped closer, making you smell his cologne, sandalwood and something else that smelled a lot like money. Weird combination but it worked for him. “Truly. I didn’t fuck Ava or any other woman while we were together. I— I just wanted to be with you, Soph, I need you to know that.”

You stared at his face, trying so hard to find the same expression you found on your ex’s face whenever he lied and manipulated you. But you couldn’t— Jack was still the same as he was seven months ago, when he hit on you at that dinner party.

He still looked like the guy who held you close after sex, the guy who order take out for you just because he knew you’d get too tired to cook for yourself, the guy who had a playlist just for his favorite songs by you, the guy who never understood your chronically online memes but laughed nonetheless because he said the way you laugh is funnier than the joke itself.

Jack still looked like he could be your forever.

So close yet so fucking distant.

You could feel yourself slipping into him again and you knew you couldn’t do this with yourself. You had to choose yourself before choosing anyone else.

“You don’t need to say sorry,” you whispered, smiling softly. “It’s fine. As you said, we weren’t even dating. I bet you wouldn’t have reacted the way I did if it’d been the other way around.”

He looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would’ve gone crazy if it was the other way around. Sophia, I know it’s hard to believe but—”

“It’s fine, Jack, it really is,” you stated, shaking your head. “I accept your apologies but I think—” you broke eye contact, stepping back. “I think it’s just best if we stay out of each other’s way.”

You couldn’t tell which one of you cracked first. Jack, who looked at you like he’d seen a ghost, let his shoulders fall, looking as dejected as ever. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes but you held on tight. You had already cried in front of him once, and you weren’t going to do that again.

“Soph,” you heard his voice, so soft and so unlike him. “Soph, you don’t… you don’t mean that, baby.”

“I do,” you looked up, squeezing your eyes shut. “I do, Jack. And it will be fine. Let’s just move on.”

“Soph…”

“Please,” you whispered, already stepping back into the house, hands on the handle. “Jack. Please.”

You finally looked at him, noticing how his eyes looked so blue and sad. He stared at you before shaking his head, once and then twice, stepping back.

“I’m so sorry, Soph.” He said softly, before leaving Nico’s porch and making his way to his car.

“I know you are, baby,” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall. “I am, too.”

“Hum… pizza for Nico Hischier?”

Great.

[gallusrostromegalus]

ok I need elaboration on pretty much all of those bankais that you haven't already talked about but for now i'm probably most curious about ichigo and hanataro? please, a measly few crumbs of context

The short version of Ichigo's sword situation is that he is D'artanigan to Zangetsu's Three displaced-during-the-fuckery-surrounding-his-parent's-meet-cute-slash-manslaughter-thing Musketeers. We got his dad's half-starved family Zanpakuto, The Family Ghost from his Mom's side, and a guy made in an evil instapot that wandered in here on accident and precipitated the whole enfuckening. They are untied in their goal of "Keep Ichigo Alive" but unfortunately they also have a collective IQ of Negative Four.

Reader: Gee Ichigo, why does the author let you have THREE Zanpakuto spirits?

Ichigo: That's nothing! Orihime has SIX!

Ichigo and Orihime's nonsense is connected to how The Almighty operates:)

Meanwhile, short summaries of Unohana and Byakuya's Bankai under the cut:

Unohana:

Minazuki is a sword primarily about the manipulation of flesh- healing injury, making better fighters by pushing the flesh to it's limits- This is a spirit that is distinctly VISCERAL in nature. It has mass. It has a very distinct body.

So it follows that, in order to supply injured patients with blood and drugs and new flesh and everything else, Minazuki is giving up some of her Mass. Consequently, the Stingray form of Minazuki is the SECOND one- she cannot create her elixirs and make new flesh from nothing. First she must FEED.

Which is why Minazuki's liquid format is acidic blood that devours anything organic. It's why Kenpachi!Unohana's bloodthirst was so bloodthirsty: she was literally starving for biomass to complete her sword's two forms and finally put her Soul in Balance.

In the fic, Ukitake is one of a handful of people old enough to remember "Yachiru" Unohana, and until Zaraki's arrival, probably the closest to understanding her. That Unohana and Retsu both understand the horrors of the flesh he lives with every day more intimately than anyone else in his life, and it's the basis of an almost sacred friendship between them. He knows perfectly well where the emergency transfusions and drugs she creates come from, and they have a standing agreement that if he predeceases her, she is to feed his body to Minazuki so he can pay forward at least some of the debt given to him.

He will not be the first of Unohana's friends that have been willingly devoured by her sword.

Byakuya:

Senbonzakura has been with the Kuchiki family for generations, passed from one head of the clan to the next in a sacred ritual that allows the Zanpakuto to bond to its new weilders and grant them the power accumulated with generations.

But for course, everything has it's cost.

Byakuya was not the head of the Kuchiki clan when his father Sojun died prematurely and make Byakuya the orphan heir apparent as an adolescent. He was not the head when he met Hisana in a grove of cherry trees in the middle of harvest, and fell in love with her He was not the head when he had a terrible row with his grandfather Ginrei and the rest of the clan elders about his elopement. He was not the head five years later, when on a cold spring morning before the plum trees had blossomed, Hisana died of a miscarriage.

One week later, when the plum trees bloomed and the cherry trees had budded, Byakuya came to his grandfather, head bowed and heart broken, and agreed to take up the mantle of Clan Head. His soul had already been torn in half, what was another half?

Everything has it's cost, and the price of Senbonzakura's power is the sacrifice of the weilder's own original Zanpakuto spirit, and by transference, the imminent death of the previous head.

He had known this day was coming, ever since his own native Zanpakuto spirit failed to awaken at the academy. At the time, he'd thought it a mercy that the poor thing wouldn't awaken and be aware of being devoured. But now, as he held the tiny, warm body of the spirit out to Senbonzakura, he could only think of the child he never got to hold.

...with Senbonzakura, at least, she'd be at rest with something beautiful that loved her.

Because Senbonzakura loves it's family, and in particular it adores Byakuya. It has, ever since Byakuya fearlessly climbed it's branches as a small boy, since he partook of the sword's fruits as a young man, and now, when Byakuya offered the most precious parts of himself to the sword with a sense of peace and profound trust. And Senbonzakura repays that trust in kind.

The sword's shikai release is the same, or at least similar for all it's wielders, but long-term friends of the family note that that is a LOT MORE blades than the sword ever summoned for Ginrei or any other head.

The Bankai is different every time. Senbonzakura is ready to give Byakuya whatever Bankai he wants immediately, but it's not until after he adopts Rukia and sees her fooling around in the family orchards when she thinks he isn't watching that he realizes the shape it should be.

It's name is "Senbonzakura: Sakura no Kaju-en" and it is beautiful and terrible.

Sakura no Kaju-en requires only that Byakuya pierce the flesh of his enemy or the terrain around him with one or more of his petal-blades. Once in the ground or embedded in flesh, the blade is transformed into a seed and an entire magical cherry tree grows from it, converting the Reishi and spiritual energy around it into its own mass. Since Byakuya is effectively wielding somewhere around 10,000 petal blades in his shikai alone, he can summon up to 10,000 devouring cherry trees, which will radically alter the landscape of battle and blossom into millions and millions of new petal-blades.

That is, unless his foe is unfortunate enough to have the blades penetrate their flesh. Then the trees will devour them as they grow. Even a truly massive opponent like Yammy can be mulched in minutes.

The trees initially blossom almost white, but as his enemies are felled and Senbonzakura drinks, the blooms grow pinker and then redder until they transform into deep crimson fruits.

It's a brutal Bankai, but a beautiful one. When Byakuya looks out upon the blooming landscape and tastes the sweet fruits of his efforts, it brings him peace to know the small, sleeping spirit he had to sacrifice is playing somewhere within, they way he saw Rukia playing in the family orchards that day.

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 7)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Weekend getaway :)

Warnings: Suggestive themes aaaaandd a little of that internalize homophobia again

Author's Note: NO BETA BC THIS TOOK ME FOREVER GOOD LORD IM SORRY FOLKS! I moved and started a new job and I leave for Europe in a week so life has been NUTS

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Melissa led the way through the front doors of the hotel. You could tell she was excited by the highly animated way in which she spoke to you. She used her hands and fingers to gesture to you and she lingered close to you with her last word, “This weekend is about three things: the endless buffet, laying by the pool, and sex.”

The corners of your lips rose as her lips neared your own. There were still a few inches between you, but you knew that was plenty close for a place as public as a hotel lobby, “In that order too?”

Your response made the redhead laugh as both of her hands squeezed your bicep. You lost yourself for a moment while you watched her grin at you. It was the voice of a man that unfortunately ripped her eyes from you, “Melissa?” 

As she turned to face the voice, her red hair flicked over her shoulder with the spin of her head. When her eyes landed on the familiar face of her ex boyfriend, her smile faded, but her tone remained polite, “Hey, Gare.”

A brief silence fell between the former lovers (as did a thick awkwardness), and you waited patiently for one of them to speak up. Gary was the first to break the silence when he noticed Melissa’s eyes wander over to the brunette at his side, “Oh, this is my girlfriend - Lea Ann”

Melissa only nodded, remaining silent and giving a faux smile to the lofty man. It was when he realized Melissa had very little interest engaging with Gary and Lea Ann that Gary decided to turn his attention to you. With a kind smile, he reached out his hand, offering it to you along with his name, “Gary.”

“Y/N.” You return the smile and handshake, surprised at the way his face lit up at hearing your name.

“Mel told me about you when we were dating.” He quipped while wrapping his arm around Lea Ann’s shoulders, hugging her to his side. He seemed genuinely delighted to make your acquaintance - it made you wonder why Melissa refused to commit to something more serious with him.

You folded your arms over your chest, glancing down at Melissa and then back to Gary again, “Did she now?”

Gary was highly enthusiastic with how he spoke to you, recalling memories Melissa had shared with him months ago, “Of course. You were her date to the senior prom after some punk ditched her.”

You couldn’t hide your pleasure in knowing Melissa had talked about you in her previous relationship. You had always assumed she would have kept even your friendship a secret. With a great big smile, you bump your shoulder against hers lightly, “I mean, how could I say no to a face like that?”

Melissa gave a reluctant smile, changing the subject away from your relationship, “What are you guys doin’ out here?”

Gary eagerly squeezed Lea Ann to his side once more and beamed at her. The brunette shifted into his side, wrapping an arm behind his back to better lean against him. It was clear they were enamored with one another, “Early anniversary trip. Lea Ann and I met at Dave & Busters not too long after we broke up. She is real good at skeeball.” 

Lea Ann added to the conversation with a shy voice, “How about you guys?”

“A trip for old times’ sake.” Melissa’s response contained a tone that was anything other than warm. While some might not have noticed, you saw her turn snarky and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly. It was obvious to you Melissa was offended by what she thought was Lea Ann’s ‘nosiness’. The redhead folded her arms over her chest, indicating she was finished with the conversation.

Gary knew Mel well enough to give a curt nod and guide Lea Ann away from you both, “Well, I hope you two have a great time.’

“Yeah, you too.” Your voice fell as they walked away - knowing full well Melissa would be upset at this interaction when you arrived at the hotel room.

—

You shifted awkwardly near the door of the hotel room. Melissa had abandoned her luggage in the middle of the room and tossed her purse on the bed before dropping into the chair into the corner to scroll on her phone. She seemed increasingly detached from you since you had spoken to Gary. 

While the detachment made you furious, you gave her a chance to tell you how she was feeling before you spiraled, “Everything okay?”

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she replied. If anything, she seemed annoyed that you would even ask such a question, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Biting your tongue, you turn your back to her with a huff and tug open the door, “I’m gonna go downstairs.”

—

You twist the glass of dark liquor in your hand, mindlessly watching the ice swirl about in the liquid. A fire had been lit in your stomach at the realization that nothing had changed between Melissa and you. She still refused to admit her feelings for you or the opposite sex. Of course you were infuriated, but it was more of a rage fueled sadness had you refusing to look at Melissa who sat (im)patiently next to you. 

“You gotta work with me here. It’s one thing to take a weekend away together, but it’s a whole other thing to be tellin’ people that we are a couple.” Melissa sounded colder than she would have wanted, but there was no taking the words back now. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second.

It was clear Melissa didn’t truly understand why you were upset with the entire situation. With a deep sigh, you chose to explain your feelings to her, “I don’t mind that we aren’t official or whatever. I don’t even care that this is so casual. I just can’t be your dirty little secret anymore.”

“It isn’t like that.” 

Her reply was quick, but you weren’t convinced. “Melissa… Anytime someone gets remotely close to the truth, you get all spooked and then I have to deal with the consequences.”

The redhead chewed at the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say to you. She remained facing forward, her fingers absentmindedly ripping at the napkin placed in front of her by the bartender. Mel furrowed her brow as she spoke, “I’m not spooked. I just don’t want people all up in my business.”

You weren’t convinced.

“Either way... You know how I feel about you... how I have always felt about you, and I-” In an instant, you regret opening your mouth. You could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks from the corner of your eye. As always, you had gotten ahead of yourself, and now it was time for you to finish explaining your emotions before Melissa found a way to steer the conversation away from the vulnerability it was currently steeped in, “For me, it feels like you’re ashamed... of me, and it’s not a great feeling.”

Melissa glared at you for a few moments, and then you saw her left hand reach out to hold you by the back of the neck to pull your lips to hers. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you felt Mel’s teeth teasing your bottom lip and her right hand creep up to the middle of your thigh.

When she pulled her lips away from yours, her voice was low, “I’m sorry I made ya’ feel that way. I could never be ashamed of you.”

Regardless of the people sitting all around, you dove back in for another kiss. You felt her melting into you. With every second you kissed her, Melissa inched closer to the point in which she had slipped off her chair to stand between your knees. Her hands braced against your thighs and breasts pressed to your chest. 

The redhead was breathing heavily when she finally drew her lips away from yours. She had turned her head to glance around the room in search of prying eyes when you buried your nose in her hair. 

After Melissa’s worries of being watched were soothed by the absence of onlookers, she turned back to you, capturing your face in her hands. She spoke in a low tone which caused you to swallow hard, “Let’s go upstairs, hon.” She took your hand, tugging you along after her towards the hotel lobby. 

The deafening chorus of casino games, live music, and both winning and losing gamblers was all but a mere whisper to you the moment Melissa peered over her shoulder at you with a smile - a smile that only confirmed your long standing love for her.  

When she had you in the elevator, you were up against the wall before the door was closed with her mouth against yours. Mel was busy trailing her lipstick from your lips to your neck as you choked out a dizzied concern, “We are... going to miss our... uh, dinner reservations.”

“Where at?” Melissa was far too busy tasting your collarbone to give much attention to the thought of going out for dinner. She was far more interested in getting you up to your hotel room to get more acquainted with the hotel bed.

“Some fancy steakhouse.” You murmur before returning her fervor. By now the elevator doors were shut and neither of you had given much more thought to pressing a button to get the elevator moving. Instead you were more consumed with the urge to turn the tables on Melissa and press her against the elevator wall. 

Melissa’s hands were woven tightly into your hair as you pinned her to the wall. Your force only propelled her further into the raging desire she felt for you. Mel didn’t need to use any words to convey how much she needed you. Everything about your kisses was sloppy and steeped in desire. 

She allowed one of her hands to wander to the back of your neck as your lips drifted down her neck to her cleavage. The redhead held you tight with one arm while the other clumsily reached to illuminate the button to floor 15, “We can just order pizza.”

Her efforts to get the elevator headed towards your floor weren’t swift enough. The elevator dinged and the doors to the lobby parted, allowing a familiar tall, bald headed man and his brunette girlfriend onto the elevator with you both. 

With the introduction of Gary and Lea-Ann onto the elevator, Mel and you partially parted. She kept an arm around you with a hand resting on your hip and her body was pressed to yours as she suppressed a coy smile. Melissa raised a manicured hand to her lips, attempting to tidy her smeared lipstick with her thumb. All the while she stared at you down like a starved lion. 

Your heart was pounding and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. It took everything in you not to confess your love then and there. She was beautiful like this - seemingly liberated of her shame and enthralled with the premise of being caught in such a public act of affection. 

Gary was obviously confused by your closeness and he cocked his head, needing to double check to see if it was really Melissa who was really pinned into the corner of the elevator by you, “Melissa?”

“Oh, hey.” She cleared her throat and acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. You attempted to move your hands from her waist, but her hand caught your wrist to prevent you from pulling away. 

The elevator devolved into silence as it began moving to the upper floors. You couldn’t see the looks on Gary or Lea-Ann’s faces as you were too busy watching every shift in Melissa’s expressions. You wondered if this would be the end of your relationship. Your heart was pounding and you were growing anxious at the thought of the potential rejection headed your way. The only thing that kept you from completely losing it was Melissa’s manicured hand on the back of your neck, softly twirling your loose locks between her digits. 

Her eyes flickered between the rising elevator numbers, your company, and the elevator doors. Melissa was terrified of who Gary could tell. Through all of her family and friends, she knew this moment could reach someone she knew in a matter of hours. Her personal fears were being slowly subdued by her own willpower. As her eyes drifted back up to your face, they were now filled with a subtle determination to prove herself to you. 

Melissa pushed against your abdomen so you would step aside, but she kept both hands on you as she talked to Gary, “How’s your night goin’?”

“Good. I- I didn’t know you two were-” Gary couldn’t hide an ounce of his confusion at seeing you together. 

“Together? Yeah, well... Now you know.” The redhead finished his sentence before adding her own bit of attitude at the end of her thought. A lump formed in the back of her throat at admitting your relationship out loud, but there was no taking it back now. 

While Melissa was dealing with her own inner turmoil, you were relishing in the fact that Melissa described you two as being ‘together’. You were riding that high even after the elevator stopped on your floor and Mel took your hand to pull you after her. 

It was Melissa who lifted your arm to place around her shoulders when you stepped off the elevator. She also turned back to face her ex boyfriend with a cheeky grin, “Have a good night you two.”

Link to Chapter 8

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[fancyfeathers]

zainiscompletelydone333 asked a question

omg but imagine william's potential darling to be like agatha christie? a mystery writer whose mysteries are almost impossible to solve. whether or not they are as smart as the masterminds or detectives in her books, her stories do come close to confusing even sherlock or william a bit. if you've read her "and then there were none" SPOILERS its about a judge killing people for being evil and that is so william coded. anyways i'm straying far what I mean is william could be a quiet fan, and as the lord of crime, even replicate some of her stories as part of his crimes. watching his darling's face pale at the unknown criminal doing such a thing.....ASDKSHD an when he finally does officially meet her, he wonders if she'l ever base a character off him. a hero, or perhaps a villain?

For some reason this isn’t showing up in my tumblr inbox but thank god for my email cause this is a gem! Thank you @zainiscompletelydone333 for this!

Okay I love Agatha Christie, an actual icon! Fun fact she actually faked her own disappearance in 1926 and the police couldn’t find her for over a week and she just took a vacation to London after her husband threatened to leave her and she said fuck it and decided to treat herself. Then also Arthur Conan Doyle the author of Sherlock Holmes was hired to find her.

Anyway I am getting so off track but I love this lady so much so here we go!!!

But yes William would absolutely adore a darling like her. Imagine him first finding her works for the first time, perhaps one of his brothers or Sebastian or Fred was reading her work and just out of curiosity he picks up one of her books and is just immediately enthralled. Whenever he is not busy he is reading or even rereading one of her books and even begins to be teased by others for his slight addiction to her works.

Then when he and Sherlock is on the train investigating the murder that is when he gets an idea from both this and one of her books.

Weeks later an aristocrat who had been acting as a loan shark was found dead on a train in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside, just like a murder from one of her most famous book…

But what William did not know is that she was on that same train…

And of course she found the body…

As William was making his way back to his seat to join his brothers, he hears a blood curdling scream and he simply chalks it up to someone finding the body. Then the panicked woman is brought to her seat by the staff and she looks a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down her face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body.

She is being asked questions when she finally calms down enough and William’s ears prick up as he hears words he never thought he would hear…

“Oh god… this is my fault…”

He turns his head to the booth next to him and sees her in absolute terror as she speaks to the train conductor.

She is right next to him…

She is terrified, horrified even…

And she is beautiful.

After everything from that incident had settled and she is off at home, trying to work on her next work for the life of her but being horrified by what she just witnessed…

Then more deaths come to surface all with the same pattern…

They are based on her books…

The author is absolutely horrified, she is loosing sleep, not eating as she should, and has rarely left her house in weeks…

Then she gets a knock on her door from a certain detective who was hired to look into one of the deaths, Sherlock Holmes. While he may like her books, he has noticed the pattern like she has and has one request for her…

“I want to help you to solve these cases. Who better to solve murders based on books better than the author herself?”

At first she refuses and dismisses him, but then when she is laying in bed that night she realizes he was right.

Her drawing room becomes a mess of her old notes that she had tucked away from when she wrote her book, copies of her her books with dozens bookmarks in them, newspaper clippings all around, and evidence she had Sherlock get access to with his connections that she doesn’t have.

After days of pure investigation and nights of no sleep she finally was able to figure out where the next murder will be, just by what books are left…

But that’s the thing…

There is not a single work of hers left that this murderer has not take inspiration from…

The only thing left is the author, and she can only assume that she is the next target. So without telling Sherlock, she packs up her bags and fakes her own disappearance, to fool both the police and the murderer.

She spends so much time in the shadows, watching and waiting to see who looks into her disappearance, seeing how people react to it, but nothing, not a thing…

It frustrates her even further…

Then she finally decides to return home, feeling like a failure. Her house if just how she left it, even the papers in the drawing room that look like the work of a madman that she will have to clean up after her failure so she can go back to what she is good at, fictional murders not really ones…

No she can’t do that, that would only give the murderer ideas…

So she quits.

No one hears from her for months as she nods herself taking up a librarian position at a local library, at least she is doing something with her literature. She says goodbye to Mr. Holmes and tucks away all her old books and works in progress that will never be finished on the shelves to collect dust for the rest of her life.

At her time working there she gets a frequent visitor at the library, a Mr. William James Moriarty. He had a fascination with murder mystery novels and the two form a quick friendship over their shared love of them. Everything feels like a new start, a clean slate but then he had to ask…

“Will you ever write again?”

That question has her heart hurt because she adores writing, but to sacrifice lives just for what she enjoys, she would never. She shuts down his question quickly and excuses herself, but then avoids the scarlet eyed man as to not be asked that question again.

But as she is laying in bed one night…

She hears the sound of footsteps in her study downstairs…

She feels her heart stop…

She closes her eyes and prays whoever is there will just go away, but they do not. So she musters whatever courage she has left and slips out of bed to see who is there in her study that has been collecting dust for almost a year…

And she approaches the closed door she realizes whoever is behind them must be the person behind the murders that gave plagued her and-

“William?”

The pangs of shock she feels in her chest when she sees the face of William Jane Moriarty looking through her unfinished works that she shelved away what felt like years ago. She must have looked like a deer in headlights as the Lord of Crime looking up at her with a smile, his red eyes staring into her soul…

She is terrified, horrified even…

And she is beautiful.

“Your unfinished work, will it have an ending? Or perhaps will we have to write one ourselves? What do you think, darling?”

The weeks go by and the next time the author is seen in public again she has an engagement ring on her finger and the announcement is being made about their upcoming wedding. The talk of the aristocracy says that she finally has a husband who is willing to deal with her crazied ideas that ended up killing so many people, not knowing that she is on the arm of the man who killed them…

Just for her.

(I could kinda imagine it ending up as a situation like the book Misery by Stephen King where he has her finish her work even if she doesn’t want to, but what differs is that while he doesn’t necessarily keep her locked up physically he does mentally. Sure go run off, he isn’t going to stop his darling, but just watch the bodies stack up pin ways she imagined, he is using her own mind against her which is the most terrifying of prisons. Then soon fear turns into dependency, she becomes terrified of him leaving her because now she has no where else to go but him so he has no need to hide her away when she clings to his arm like a terrified and wounded animal.)

[bakugou-jpg]

✧ Past never dies | Touya Todoroki/Dabi ✧

Request: Ayee! Can i request a scenario for Dabi with a female s/o who is a hero. They were childhood friends, till they were like 16, until dabi left and became a villain. Dabi never clicked in, except for y/n who was his only and best friend. They used to have feelings for each other and Dabi still does since he always had watched over her? by anon.

⤷ -Genre: angst -Characters: touya todoroki/dabi -Tags: light angst, reunion, childhood friends, grief -Word count: 5.9k words -Warnings: violence, blood, vomit, death, abuse [mention] -Author: noelle part of the rewriting series

You were 5 years old when your parents decided to move away from the small town village you had known all your life. With your father's business having grown a whole lot larger over the years, it was only a matter of time before he took it to the bigger cities. A man who had taken his glass shaping abilities to the industrial world rather than the hero one.

From a very young age you had known what path you wished to take. Unlike your father, you had been granted the ability to harden and shape your very own skin with it. As fragile as glass could be, you were determined to proof the world the opposite. To proof the world that your quirk had as much potential as any other.

You were 5 years old when you hid behind the legs of your mother as your parents had taken you to meet your new neighbors. At the time you thought the house you and your parents moved into was big —especially compared to your old one that was. A thought immediately thrown out the window when you first laid eyes on the Todoroki residence. The fact that the head of the household, the number two hero as if he wasn't intimidating enough yet,  watched you like a hawk the minute you stepped foot into their house didn't make it all too better.

At the time they only had three children— Touya the eldest who was the same age as you, Fuyumi who was 4 and Natsuo who was still but a baby at the time. Shouto hadn't even been born yet, Touya still being Endeavour's greatest creation at that moment.

Your mother wanted to you to befriend more children so you'd feel more at home in your new town and what better way but to meet the children next door? Something which didn't take too long as you almost instantly bonded with their eldest son over your shared ambitions. Touya more than eagerly showed off his quirk to you, your eyes immediately widening in amazement upon feeling the warmth of his flames brushing against your cheeks.

He had laughed at you when you had shown him yours, immediately pointing out the fragility of glass. Upon hearing his words you, like any child at that age, did what anyone would do after getting called weak— which was immediately jump him to proof him wrong. Touya, like any child at that age, acted accordingly— gladly returning your sparring to proof himself right.

And just like that, each of you having received a good amount of minor burns and cuts topped off by a good scolding of both your mothers, you had found yourself a new friend. In truth you got along with all the Todoroki siblings at the end of the day, but Touya was the one who you clicked almost instantly with.

At the time you didn't know about what went on behind closed doors. About the both emotional and physical abuse, neglect and the pressure put on those he viewed as an extension of himself rather than their own person. Of course, Endeavour never played the part of a warm loving father and you were aware of the fact Touya had very limited time in which the two of you were allowed to play together, but you hadn't known of the seriousness of it all.

It wasn't around the time the youngest Todoroki sibling was born that you glimpsed into the family's real problems. Around the time that it came to light that Touya's body was made to withstand the dangerously low temperatures of ice like his mother but simply unable to handle the heat of his own quirk.

When Endeavour cast Touya aside to focus on his new successor— the one who would surpass All might. With Shouto possessing both his mother's and father's quirk, Endeavour became obsessed with training the boy into what he viewed to be the perfect hero. Unlike Touya, Shouto's body was able to withstand both ice and fire making him Endeavour's perfect creation.

It was around that time that Touya started his late night journeys to sneaking off to your house. With Endeavour not even granting him as much as a glance anymore, his siblings not seeming to understand and his mother at the edge of madness, Touya had no one. You had been the only one who would listen to him, the only one that seemed to understand the reason for feeling he way he did. After all, becoming a hero was the thing the two of you had bonded over since the very beginning.

It was a silly promise the two of you had made at the time, swearing to one another that you'd become heroes together. Hero agencies right next to each other so you could visit all the time, maybe even a shared one if given the chance. The plans you came up with were never ending— the very last source of hope for Touya who believed the entire world had given up on him. The one who believed he could find a way eventually.

He could always count on you to be there with your comforting words, listening ear and pretty smile to welcome him with open arms. Touya was your very first true friend. The type you genuinely believe you'll grow old with— two 40 year old somethings sitting on your couch with a drink having a laugh while reminiscing on old times. Someone you knew was always gonna be there.

Touya had also been your first heartbreak.

That unexpected Thursday morning in which frantic pounding on your front door woke you and your parents up— an inconsolable Fuyumi and Natsuo barely being able to form words through their sobs and hiccups standing in front of your doorstep to bring you news you hadn't expected to hear for another 60 years in the least.

After all, Touya would grow old with you right? You had so many things planned after all with attending UA together, the hero agencies right next to each other and both being in the top 10 together right? Touya knew that as much as you did, so how could he just go ahead and leave you?

You were only one year away from attending UA,  the very first step towards your dream. One that wouldn't feel complete without him there. For Touya to just go ahead and die right before that..

The image of the closed casket would forever be burned into your retina. His quirk apparently having gone out of control, burning his own body to ashes. There wasn't even anything left to bury, so why had they even bothered getting a casket in the first place? You couldn't help but wonder how scared Touya must've been in his very last moments. How alone.

At times you blamed Endeavour for what happened, believing that the pressure the man put on his family and the abuse he had caused having been the reason Touya was so determined to proof himself even to the point of his own demise.

There were times in which you blamed yourself. Had your naivety been the cause of it all? Had those times in which you spoke of the future together and told him you believed in him, given him false hope? Even though his body couldn't handle his quirk, had you made him believe that maybe if he went all out it could?

The weight of your grief was always present in your heart, every achievement that you had made leaving a bitter taste in your mouth at the thought he would never get that same chance as you. Nor was he there to celebrate it with you. Surely through the years you had come to a point of acceptance, after all death is part of all our lives. It is inevitable and as much as you could never fully let him go, you had found ways to go on with your life.

At the end of the day, you had graduated. Years of hard work having been paid off in fond memories and a hero license in your pocket. At the end of the day it all worked out. Now at 24 years old, you had your fair share of experiences in the hero world already.

You weren't one of the big name heroes, but you still had a handful of fans. Here and there your name had been mentioned on the local news and you had even teamed up with some of the bigger one such as Hawks and, unfortunately, Endeavour. Now having climbed your way into the top 30, you finally allowed yourself to feel some sort of pride for your hard work.

Something which was fast to fade away as you had managed to get yourself cornered by some unnamed criminals you caught causing a ruckus late at night after some drinking. 

Your body was failing you in every possible way. For your quirk to still be somewhat cooperative was a miracle on its own, but with your knees already having succumbed to whatever it had been the tailed man had injected you with, it could only be a matter of time before the rest of your body would follow.

Maybe this was your doomed fate— to die right at the very start of it all, just a few feet away from the starting blocks. Barely having made a name for yourself, the headlines probably wouldn't even give you the recognition you deserved and simply describe you as 'B-tier hero' as the announced your death. The least you could hope for was they'd at least mention you went all out until the very end.

At this point, you weren't even sure what you were fighting for anymore. Was it still the dream of a naive teenager who believed that the life of a hero was exactly as it appeared in the movies? Praised by millions, helping those in need, and never having to worry about expenses?

But all that was washed down the drain when you realized that life was only reserved for those with flashy quirks and big personalities. People like Endeavor, whose heart was as rotten as a corpse left to wither and decay in the open sun. Men like Hawks, who hadn't even gotten a choice but to accept the cruel fate set in stone for them by the Hero Public Safety Commission—a company that did as it pleased.

All Might had been one of the few genuine ones left, but with his fall came the collapse of hero society itself.

You blindly followed the path you had chosen—after all, what other choice was left? At the very least, you hoped to be one of the few good ones remaining, to show what the true meaning of a hero was. That very thought was what kept you going, what helped you get out of bed in the morning.

With that in mind, you groaned through gritted teeth and raised your arms in front of you. Your skin tingled before a thick layer of glass replaced its upper layer. The sharp material extended to the tips of your fingers, hardening and fusing into sharp spears.

Even with all odds against you, you were determined to prove yourself. Pushing yourself up using the spears you'd just created, you struggled to harden your knees to stabilize yourself. Though you were in no shape to take even a few steps forward, perhaps this way, you at least stood somewhat of a chance. The men could only laugh at your pathetic display of courage. Three of them— all still standing and suffering only minor injuries— against you, someone who could barely stand on her own. It was only a matter of time before the rest of your body succumbed to the venom slowly spreading through your veins before giving out.

Seeing you stand again made the bald-headed man raise his tail once more. He could only smirk when he saw you slightly wince at the sight of the stinger, it still dripping a mixture of your blood and poison from the last time it struck you. You couldn't help the hairs in your neck from rising.

"Haven't had enough yet, girly? Can't blame you—"

The stinger whipped back before lashing out your way, its tip shining with beads of poison. It was the last thing you saw before shutting your eyes, arms thrown up to shield your face. Fragile as glass maybe, your very existence was proof it could be much more than that.  

Before you knew it, a wave of screams erupted from the men, followed by an almost incinerating heat slamming into your face. For a moment, it was almost comforting— right until the moment you felt the tips of the spears heat up, to the point the melting heat spread through your entire arm and burned the skin beneath

Had it been Endeavour that came to your aid? 

As quickly as your skin had turned to glass before, as quick it was to turn back. With your arm shielding your face from the heat, you finally managed to peek through your eyelashes. Almost instantly you were blinded by the brightness of the flames before you, the blue sea of fire becoming almost unbearable to stand next to. It was a challenge to be able to make out whoever was the source of the heat— the searing wind almost drying your eyes out. You could only hope the heat hadn't burned your eyelashes and eyebrows off.

It was then that you saw the source of it all—a tall dark haired man standing only a few feet away from you. He had his arm stretched out in front of him, hand open and palm directly pointed towards where the men had been standing whilst his other one was snuggly tucked into his pocket. The power held in just the palm of his hand was enough to fill the entire alleyway with a sea of flames.

He didn't even seem slightly fazed by the fact the three men from before had completely burned to crisp— there ashes falling to the ground as their entire existence had just been wiped off the surface. Even their bones had been completely incinerated.

You couldn't dare move. Whether it had been fear which caused you to freeze up or the fact forming a single coherent thought seemed impossible after what just happened, you weren't sure. You could only watch the man's back— eyes shot wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

For a moment, you had completely forgotten about your knees— until they could no longer bear your own weight. Almost instantly you fell back into the wall, a soft groan rumbling in your throat at the impact before your hand instinctively reached out to the swelling sting mark on your hip. 

The place where the man had stung you started throbbing, the burning sensation in your muscles now spreading throughout your legs. Besides the feeling of your muscles on fire and throbbing, the wound itself had swollen to twice its size from before. You could only hope the infirmary had some sort of antidote lying around for a situation such as this.

Finally the man in front of you lowered his arms, the wave of fire immediately dying down leaving only a few small fires in its wake. Brick walls were covered in black soot, nearby trash containers melted to the ground and you couldn't even begin to describe the smell of burned trash and bodies. The three men from before had been reduced to nothing but a few piles of ash, blowing away in the wind.

"You should've ran."

His husk voice rang— back still turned to you. With the heat gone you could now take a much better look at him than before. He didn't seem like a hero, at least not one that you knew of. His coat was torn in several places, a bad stitching job holding the sleeves together and most of its edges having fire damage. Despite the poor state of his clothes, it was a miracle they managed to only have such minor burns to them.

It wasn't until the man glanced over his shoulder to look at you that you caught a slight peek at his face. Purple scars, presumably caused by his fire, littered his face all the way up to his ears and neck—a collection of messily placed staples holding it all together. You wondered if he still had sensation in those areas; the patches looked so rough and dark you could only assume the skin had died a long time ago.

When the man finally turned on his heel was when you finally got to take a good look at him. The scarred skin seemed to spread across his entire body. There seemed to be more scarred places rather than normal healthy skin. Could his body even withstand his own quirk or had it been someone else's that had caused such severe burns? 

As shocking as his scars had been, it was his piercing blue eyes that locked with your own that almost instantly caught your attention. The very same bright blue in which his flames burned. Almost mesmerizing if it weren't for the fact fear currently settled deep within your stomach.

For any hero, or even civilian, would've been able to figure out who the man was after taking a quick look at him. A face that had been on the news and headlines so many times even children heard of him—and feared him.

It should've been obvious from the very start with how high of a temperature and what color his flames burned. No hero would go so far as to wiping someone's entire existence off the earth within seconds. Despite this, there had been something in you that tried convincing you that perhaps the knight in shining armor that came to your aid was just another hero—maybe even a vigilante.

Not a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Was he here to mock you? Toy with you until the very end? It was embarrassing enough you couldn't help yourself against the other three but looking back you should've been thankful for such a quick end. 

After all, the villain known as Dabi, someone affiliated with the League of Villains, was known for his cruel methods. If it wasn't death by hours of torture, body littered in severe burn marks and clothes melted onto your own flesh— it was death after having been consumed in his sea of flames. In which case you could only hope he left your bones so that people still had something they could bury or identify you by. 

Maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't been in the condition you currently found yourself in you could've stood somewhat of a chance. Not even a chance at victory, that was completely out of the question, but just a mere chance to flee at the slightest opening given. Flee from the fire, flee from him. Even then you were in no shape or form a good match against him— glass had a melting point after all.

Heavy was the sound of boots echoing through the alley as he got closer to you. Not once had he broken eye contact with you ever since your eyes had locked for the first time. Dabi was a man that was hard to read, a villain known for the fact he genuinely did not seem to care about his actions. You couldn't tell if what just happened affected him in any way or whether it was just another day on the clock for him.

You weren't sure whether or not the unsettling heaviness in your stomach and the sweat beading on your forehead were caused by fear or side effects of the poison coursing through your system. Maybe if you were in luck the poison would take you out faster than he would. What seemed like a slow and painful death before, now looked like a merciful one.

"You are no Mirko or Mt lady. Know your limit."

His tone was a condescending one— voice awfully low as he got closer to you.

"W-what the fuck do you want from me..?!"

The words came out lacking every little bit of confidence you would've liked it to have, voice trembling in a way that betrayed the tough facade you had tried to maintain. It was painfully obvious that the act you tried putting on did in no way match the fear that had run your blood cold. You felt like a lamb cornered by a wolf, one who got their pleasure out of seeing the fear of its victims before ripping them to shreds,

Hearing you snap back at him caused him to pause for a moment, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. With the obvious power difference he probably hadn't expected you to still try and bite back at him. For just a moment there was a tiny flicker of hope in you that held onto the thought that maybe, just maybe, you had intimidated him for a moment. A tiny flicker that was immediately dimmed beneath the shit-eating grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Is a man not allowed to perform a good deed once in awhile, miss he-ro?" The last word spoken a little dragged out, the R rolling over his tongue, tainted with mockery. To him you must've been no better than a kid dressed up as a hero for Halloween. A mere joke.

Dabi didn't even seem to consider you a threat as he continued to drag his feet forward, hand stuffed deep into the pockets of his slightly damaged coat. With the way his eyes bore into your own you didn't dare look away, scared he'd be at your throat the minute you would. You weren't even sure whether to be relieved he had yet to make his move or to be even more frightened of that.

A sharp scoff escaped your throat shortly after he finished his sentence. For him to even consider himself a man rather than the monster he had proven himself to be, was as much as a joke to you as your entire existence was to him.

"Working on your good karma now?" 

There was a nauseating feeling slowly spreading through your chest, your insides churning as the internal battle against the poison was starting to get the best of you. Cold sweat began to drip down your face, every fiber of your being screaming for relief as if your organs cried out for help.

You weren't sure whether to focus on him or the rising panic of trying to swallow down the inevitable, desperately trying to stall the moment in which the content of your stomach made its way into your mouth. It was only a matter of time before you'd succumb to the effect of the scorpion man's quirk.

A loud cackle echoed through the alley, the disturbing laughter bouncing off of the charred cement walls. The sound of his voice invaded your eardrums, adding only more discomfort to the already throbbing pain inside your skull.

His hand ran through his hair as he smiled down at you, a visible joy radiating off his face. The further his lips curled upward, the more the staples seemed to strain against the pull of his lips. You wondered what it felt like— whether or not they hurt. Could he feel them pulling at his skin constantly? Did the sharp edges hurt the inside of his mouth? Maybe they felt like piercings to him, no different from the ones in his ears and nose.

"You haven't lost your sense of humor— how wonderful." 

Dabi stopped in front of you, his piercing blue eyes peering down at you as he towered over you. Only then did you realize just how tall he actually was. As if his appearance on its own wasn't already intimidating enough, dead charred skin only being held together by low quality staples of which some were still covered in dried blood.

It was hard to put your full focus on his words as you tried your very best to keep your breath steady. With every second that past the strength to keep your own head up felt like a much bigger challenge than before.

"Such a marvelous hero you've become—"

The man kneeled down in front of you, a grin still very present on his face as his eyes scanned over your face. With a slight tilt of his head, Dabi pressed his lips together into a thin line. The way he was studying you felt almost violating with how close his face was to your own. 

A heavy, stale smell of smoke invaded your nostrils as he got closer. His clothes reeked as if they had marinated all night by campfire, a scent that made you feel strangely nostalgic to your youth. It was the very same smell which Endeavour carried around with him after a long day of work. Though Endeavour's was more subtle, it always lingered in his office.

"—and still as pretty as ever." his husky voice murmured, a small grin spreading onto his face.

Before you could even fully process his words, his fingers were on your face— gently moving the strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty forehead away from your face. His touch was strangely gentle, the skin of his fingers being nowhere as rough as the rest of his exterior. Soft even.

Death was kinder than any man ever would be. To be humiliated at the hands of the cruel, scarred pyromaniac in your final moments was not how you wished to spend your last moments. At this point, even if he planned of mutilating your body beyond recognition, the poison currently having spread through your entire body would take you out long before that.

With that final boost of motivation, you managed to use the last bit of strength your body could offer to activate your quirk at your fingertips. A tingling sensation spready through your skin as it transformed, a glassy layer forming at your finger tips. Tiny claws extended, and in one quick motion, you managed to slash the palm of his hand.

With the current pathetic state you were in you only managed to cut him once before he leaped back, causing you to fall forward. In your life had you never felt so incredibly betrayed by your own body— usually being able to fully transform yourself and now barely having managed to turn your fingers.

Your arms were the only thing currently supporting you, but with the way your muscles were currently twitching you barely even managed to do that. It was a fight against your own body at this point— vision starting to blur the longer you stared down at the ground and your heart hammered against your ribcage, each thump echoing the growing despair of your declining health.

Turquoise eyes widened as they stared at the blood seeping from the palm of his hand, forming a small puddle on the ground. If you had cut just a little deeper, you would have split open his staples, forcing him to endure the hassle of putting himself back together again. The thought made him smirk.

Even in the state you currently found yourself in, you still tried fighting him? Though your quirk might've not been one of the flashiest ones and especially not one that could match his own— yet here you were. Willpower that could rival those in the top 10.

He squeezed his hand, more blood seeping between his clenched fingers before dripping down his wrist onto the ground. In a swift motion, his tongue dragged across his skin licking up some of the blood that stained his skin.  It was then that you noticed a glistening, small metal ball resting on the tip of his tongue now tainted in crimson blood.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat, a twisted smirk once again tugging at the edges of his mouth. "My, my— that's no way to greet an old friend, (Y/n)-chan" He taunted, voice laced with mockery.

As hard as it was to focus on your surroundings with your current state, those words had not gone past you— eyes immediately narrowing in response.

It had been quite a few years since your debut as a hero, years in which you faced countless of villains. From street-level pick pocketers to more notorious criminals that had made a name for themselves, you had fought many. However, due the fact you had not been one of the top heroes, you never crossed paths with anyone affiliated with the League of villains— that was until now.

For an organization that hadn't been around long, the League had grown at an alarming rate in the last few months. The Hero Public Safety Commission had their hands full with them, especially after All might's fall. Missions regarding the League were reserved for the top heroes— people like Hawks and Mirko.

Especially someone like him—a man covered in scars from head to toe with flames that rivaled those of Endeavour, would surely be someone engraved on your memory. Even if you had encountered him, there was no way you could've gotten away unscathed.

A soft grunt rumbled in your throat as you pushed yourself backwards again, your back resting against the wall. You searched your mind for any possible solution, confusion clouding your mind as you tried to recall where you possibly could've seen him.

Black hair, piercings, scar littering half of his body, flames that burned hotter than anything you'd ever felt before, turquoise eyes—

"C'mon doll, i haven't changed that much have i?"

Your breath hitched in your throat , a gasp caught by disbelief as your eyes widened in realization. For a moment it seemed as if the world around you had gone completely still, the only thing you heard being your heartbeat echoing in your own ears. It felt as if your heart had turned to ice, the chill spreading quickly through the rest of your body— numbing your limbs and wiping your thoughts.

His piercing gaze felt even more unnerving than before, turquoise eye boring into your own staring straight into your soul. The intensity of his soul sent shivers down your spine, unsure whether or not to feel relieved or scared.

"Touy—"

Before you could even utter as much as a word, Dabi was right in front of you with the palm of his hand pressed against your mouth in an attempt to silence you. The rough skin of he bottom of his hand felt like sandpaper against your lips, the sharp edges of the staples grazing your skin as his other hand held the back of your hand.

He leaned down and once again, the heavy, stale stench of smoke that he carried with him invaded your nostrils. The very same suffocating smell of death and ash that hung in the alleyway. As his cheek lightly brushed against your own, his warm breath fanned onto your ear-shell causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"Sshh— wouldn't want anyone to hear now, would we? I've got a whole show planned for it and all, would hate to spoil the surprise.."

His voice dripped with amusement as he whispered into your ear. You didn't even have to see his face to know that he was smirking, this was all a game to Dabi after all— your confusion and fear were his entertainment.

"I did miss talking to you, you know? About time we catch up."

The man leaned back slightly and, just as you had suspected, that same shit-eating grin pulled at his lips. The rough texture of his hand was still firmly pressed against your lips, the suffocating pressure only adding more rising nausea in your throat. Even despite all this, you couldn't ignore the feeling of his other hand softly threading through your hair like a twisted display of affection.

For just a moment you had completely forgotten about the state your body found itself in, that was until the nauseating feeling creeping up your throat from before that you had tried to swallow down came crashing back down on you.

As if sensing your discomfort, Dabi quickly pulled his hand back, just in time for you to throw your body to the side. You heaved as you gagged, the bitter taste of vomit rising in your throat and burning in your stomach. Tears burned in your eyes, a combination of both the nausea and helplessness, and the overwhelming wave of emotions running wild in your head. 

A pair of hands grasped the back of your head, plucking away the damp strands of hair that clung to your face as you leaned forward while emptying the contents of your stomach on the pavement. Your hands desperately clawed at the ground beneath you, the sound of your retching echoing in the alleyway.

After a few seconds you could finally allow yourself to breathe again, coughing violently as the acidic burn from the vomit scratched at your throat. You couldn't help the tears that streamed down your face as you desperately gasped for air, your arms trembling beneath your weight as you tried to keep yourself from falling down.

"Y-you— i was there..I-i..i buried you, you..ha.. you died." Your voice trembling, each word weighed down by the grief and disbelief coursing through you.

With the last bit of strength your body could grant you, you managed to crawl a little to the side before your arms gave out causing you to fall to the ground. The lightness in your head was slowly consuming you, the faint noise from the nearby fire crackling and distant cars now fading into a muffled blur.

You couldn't even muster the strength to turn yourself over, holding your eyes open being enough of a challenge on its own. It was Dabi who's hand gripped your waist that rolled you onto your back with ease so he could look at you. It was hard to focus through your blurry vision, his face blurred— only his eyes vibrant enough to capture your attention.

A strangely affectionate smile tugged at his scarred lips, unsettling as it was you couldn't help but feel at ease for a moment— but the ominous gleam in his eyes was quick to take that comfort away. It was the cloth he used to wipe your mouth clean that made you— just for a moment — recognize his old self beneath the rotten exterior he had build around it.

His thumb ran softly over your cheek, brushing away the dirt smeared across your skin. You could barely even feel his touch at this point, the exhaustion weighing you down to the point it barely registered. As your eyelids grew heavier, you felt a sudden shift— a pair of hands sliding beneath your back and knees right as you were lifted from the cold ground with ease. Your head lolled to the side, resting against his solid chest where the faint, steady thrum of his heartbeat felt like a soothing lullaby dragging you further to the edge of passing out,

"—the past never dies." was the last thing you heard before you felt yourself slip away into unconsciousness.

A/N- I rewrote this entiiiire thing! The original was so corny and bad i couldn't stand it. Hope you guys enjoyed and please stick around for more rewrites :D Also big thank you to my lovely friend for proofreading <3

[tiredfox64]

Let’s Keep This a Secret

Prior notes: I like my men a little scary. He got me giggling, kissing my feet, and crying in horror. Also I just really wanted to post something of mine and change it up.

Pairing: Reiko x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Do you fear skin to skin contact?

You were only a baby when your mom married General Shao. You never viewed him as your stepfather, he was always your father. He raised you as if you were blood related to him. He promised to protect you and love you as his own.

And protect he did, from any and everything. Especially boys.

The older you got, the more attention you attracted. Not only were you the general’s daughter but you had your mother’s beauty. Many men wanted to get with you for the fact that you were pretty and they wanted the general’s admiration. That never happened. Shao would never allow a boy to step close to you at all. The only one who would ever get close was Reiko. Yet even Reiko had a hard time getting to know you.

When you both were young he rarely cared about getting to know you. He was an orphan who lost his parents to the war. All he cared about was what General Shao had to say to him. He listened well to every order he gave. After a while Shao almost started to see him like a son. Still not a good enough position to let near his daughter.

In fact, Shao thought you shouldn’t be seeing the grueling and harsh conditions it takes to be part of his army. It’s better that you don’t know. But you did want to know. You have the right to know. Plus you wanted to know a thing or two since Shao didn’t want to teach you anything. He said he would protect you, he meant it. Why do you need to know how to protect yourself when you got him. It just pushed you away from Reiko even more.

You would find reasons to go over though. Every time you would come around to the training grounds you would always look for Reiko. At this point he was the lieutenant to your dad’s army. How could you not be drawn to a man with power and authority. When he was the only man in your life that your dad somewhat let you close to, you started to be attracted to him. Seeing those milky white eyes take a glance at you made you excited. However, no matter how old you got your father would not allow you anywhere near.

You had to take matters into your own hands. You went out with friends one night. As you were out you realized no one would be able to stop you from talking to any boys. The only person who could stop you was yourself, and you did stop yourself. You were too nervous to be around other guys or even say a word to them. Shao was to blame for your lack of social skills when it came to men. The only person who you could fathom talking to was…Reiko! Of course! Why didn’t you think of him before? You should go see if he is anywhere around.

Your friends were not too keen on sticking around and running to the training grounds. They didn’t want to get in trouble and they were actually scared of Reiko. Not many women go after him believe it or not. They begged you not to go but you were determined. You walked off on your own, your heart pumping with nervousness and excitement. As you expected you saw Reiko at the training grounds. Lucky you.

You hid behind a tree, not wanting to disturb his training. You looked with curious eyes as you watched him get some extra training in. His shurikens would strike the wooden dummy. His aim was precise. Every time he would fling them he would let out a grunt that made your stomach do twirls. The way the sweat on his muscles glistened in the moonlight and how his hair slightly blew in the light breeze made you think you were looking at nature’s finest specimen. You didn’t realize you were being drawn towards him in that moment and you stepped over a stick. It snapped and Reiko’s head snapped towards your direction. You gasp as you went back to hiding behind the tree. You were worried you had ruined everything. Closer and closer you heard him make his way towards you in a quick pace. Then there was silence. In one fell swoop he turned the corner and was right in front of you, pushing you against the tree. His knife was out but once he realized it was you he made sure not to have it too close.

“Oh, it’s just the general’s daughter. Why are you out here so late?” He spoke to you in his usual gruff voice.

You couldn’t say anything since you were so excited that he actually spoke to you. You stared up at him all stupid-like but with eyes filled with awe. Reiko was very confused but he backed away from you once he realized he was way too close. He put his knife away and was thinking of just leaving you be before thinking for a second. If somehow you got hurt while out here alone his ass could be on the line. The last thing he wants is for the general to see that his daughter got hurt and find out that his loyal lieutenant let her walk away all alone in the night. Yeah, no, not willing to risk it.

“Come on, let me get you back home. Your father won’t like this.” He warned you but you didn’t care.

He yanked on your arm and dragged you away, gently though cause he can’t hurt you in the slightest. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his arm. He flinched and was about to push you away but he stopped himself.

Don’t hurt the general’s daughter. Don’t hurt the general’s daughter.

He groaned but kept walking while you clung onto him. You kept staring up at him all starry eyed. He looks even more handsome up close. He felt your eyes on him and he had no idea what was up with you. Actually everyone’s eyes were on him and you. The general’s daughter was clinging onto a man? Impossible! Reiko was letting a woman cling onto him? That’s even more impossible! It was so frustrating to him to be in this position but he had a task and he had to finish it.

The moment he brought you to the door of your home and the door opened you were off him immediately. That dazed expression was gone and you looked focused as you looked up at your dad. Reiko was confused but carried on as he explained that he was just bringing you home. Shao thanked Reiko for bringing you back home safe and before he could scold you, you gave him those sad puppy dog eyes that get you out of most situations. And then the excuses came about how you lost track of time, you got separated from your friends, some of them bailed on you, blah, blah, blah. Shao just took all that you said as a fact. His sweet girl could never do wrong. You walked inside your home, giving Reiko a wave goodbye before closing the door. That smile on your face was full of joy. You were up in your room kicking your feet and thinking about your moment with Reiko. You’re definitely doing this again.

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It’s like every week at this point. You go out with friends, you sneak off to see Reiko training, he catches you and brings you home, you make up your excuses, rinse and repeat.

Reiko caught on that this was definitely intentional. He started letting you stay with him for a bit, not wanting to cut his training time just for you. Then y’all started talking. You talked about your home life, what you like to do, your hobbies, your friends, etcétera etcétera. He first ignored you but the moment you seemed hurt by the fact he wasn’t listening he got his act together and started listening. Once he did he realized you weren’t that bad. You weren’t annoying or stupid. In fact you were even kind of cute when you told him about your life. Woah, did he just find someone cute?

He started opening up to you, speaking about his past and his present. It actually made him feel better to have someone listen to what happened to him other than Shao. He was surprised that even when he said something negative about your dad you wouldn’t judge him or having him punished for speaking his mind. Even he who is loyal to Shao can get upset by the things he does.

You and Reiko grew closer and closer to the point you guys would forget how late it was getting. He would immediately rush you home, holding your hand to guide you back. At this point Shao was getting highly suspicious of you. Why were you coming back so late and never coming back with your friends? You just shrugged it off and told him he was getting too worked up. You pushed your way inside and the moment your dad turned his back to you, you swiftly turned around, grabbed Reiko’s face, and placed a light kiss on his lips. He was stunned but couldn’t say anything in that moment. You just waved goodbye like usual and closed the door. So you just gonna leave a man hanging like that?

Alright clearly there was much more going on between you two. You made it clear to Reiko that you wanted to be something more. That explained your strange behavior from the beginning. You just had a mega crush on him. You got him hooked he won’t deny that. He’s never loved someone and he didn’t know how. All he knows is fighting and war. But you can teach him, and teach him you did. You both were learning and you found out what felt right for you two. The kissing, the touching, the love language. It slowly became clearer and you two were compatible. You were over the moon. Finally, you had a boyfriend. A man you can trust and felt safe with. Hopefully whenever your dad finds out he won’t kill Reiko. He can’t kill his best lieutenant, right?

Oh just remembering it all gives you butterflies. Sigh

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Did you have a good time going down memory lane? Good! Cause someone is knocking on your window. Go open it!

You yank the curtains away and see Reiko at your windowsill. You quickly open the window and he leaps in. You are surprise by the fact he managed to climb all that way up to your window just to see you again. It was risky since you should be asleep at this time but you were up thinking about Reiko nonstop.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would have already left.” You whisper to him.

“How could I stay away from my woman. We just can’t get caught.” He picks you up in his strong arms and starts to kiss you.

He was much more rough in every sort of way. That means his kisses are too. You don’t mind at all. You like it. You like how rough he can get considering you were always treated so delicately.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms wrap around his neck while you two keep kissing. Your hands hold his face, letting your fingers feel his stubble. He walks over to your bed and places you down on it. You look up at him with the same sense of awe you got when you first saw him training.

“I think I’ll stay for the night. I did put in the effort to sneak in here, I think I deserve to stay.” He whispers in your ear.

You don’t say anything, you just smile and nod your head frantically to say yes. You two have done this before but you always get super happy to get the chance to have him sleep in your bed.

You know what makes it even better? Skin to skin contact!

He starts to take his armor off and places it down gently on the floor. Too much metal on there, it’s gonna freaking wake up your parents if it hits the floor. You take off your clothes as well. You thought you would be more nervous to get naked in front of somebody. You can’t even talk to other guys how are you gonna strip in front of them. But seeing how Reiko shows off his body with little shame since his armor exposes him quite a bit you felt that there was nothing to be worried about. If guys can have their chest out why can’t girls? Same thing, different structure.

Once you two were both naked you guys got into your bed, the sheets being the only thing to cover you both. He brings you in closer, his rough skin contrasting with your soft skin. His hands wander as he goes back to kissing you. Your hands went up to his head let down his hair. Your fingers rake through the thick strands. You wish he could always have his hair down. He looks so hot when he has it down.

You spend the rest of the time talking to each other, whispering to prevent anyone from hearing you. The close contact combined with the loving eye contact made you realize how lucky you are. Though Reiko is not perfect when it comes to love he does his best for you.

At the end of the night you two slowly succumb to the tiredness. He holds you close to him while he lays his head on your chest. It’s like his own personal pillow. He listens to your heartbeat as it slows down. Your arms are wrapped around his head as you caress him to sleep. Before you fall asleep yourself you have one more thing to say to him.

“I love you.” One more kiss to his forehead and you’re out like a light.

After notes: I want that man. I want that scary man. I wanna lick him. My fiancé pointed out that his nipples are too dark I don’t know why he ever pointed that out. It sent me into a spiral and I asked him who else got dark nipples and he said all of them. Fucking…really?! Anyways yeah I just wanted to switch it up cause I was doing SO MUCH when it came to the Lin Kuei brothers. I have no issue writing for them but it’s like I gotta do something else or I’ll start hating it. Not anyone’s fault that’s just how I am. Hope y’all can enjoy this. Adiós!