#haven cloud event

[fvbeers]

Binnenhaven Stellendam ( P1060303_1 ) by Frans van Beers Via Flickr: schepen in de Binnenhaven van Stellendam

[faebled-stories]

Behind The Wall

Kinkvember Day 8: Glory Hole

Le Sserafim Huh Yunjin

6.5k words

Yunjin sank into the deep, velvet embrace of her couch, the cushions softening her exhausted frame as she let out a long, weary sigh. The echoes of the day's cacophony—cheering fans, thumping music, and sharp camera clicks—still pulsed faintly in her ears.

The life of an idol was dazzling but relentless; every hour meticulously scheduled, every move choreographed to perfection. The glitter of stage lights, interviews under glaring lamps, and the constant churn of photo shoots were exhilarating but exacted a toll. It was as if her very soul teetered on a tightrope, balancing the shimmering allure of fame against the shadow of burnout.

Through the vast floor-to-ceiling window, the city’s neon lights painted strokes of pink, blue, and gold across her apartment walls. Seoul’s night buzzed with energy; cars zipped by, people chattered and laughed, their figures flitting like restless fireflies. The symphony of life outside mocked her solitude, reminding her of the world that saw her only as an untouchable idol, never as Yunjin, the young woman who craved the freedom to simply be.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she swept her gaze over the cluttered coffee table, its surface strewn with fan mail written in colorful inks, glossy pamphlets of upcoming events, and stacks of formal letters from the agency. Her slender fingers traced absent patterns over the scattered papers, seeking something familiar in the chaos. But then, her touch stopped on an envelope that was different. It was plain, with none of the bright markings or logos she’d expected—no sender's name, no return address, just an unassuming square of paper.

The whisper of the paper crinkling as she opened it seemed magnified in the stillness. The note inside was concise, starkly so, and as her eyes scanned the words, a shiver danced along her spine:

"Looking to escape the ordinary? We offer complete anonymity. No names, no faces—just pure freedom. For those seeking a way out, come explore a world where nothing else matters."

A URL was printed below in small, unembellished text, as though any flourish might disrupt the message’s secrecy. Yunjin flipped the paper over, searching for more—an explanation, a clue to its sender—but found nothing. The edges of the note bit into her palm as her mind wrestled with intrigue and apprehension.

Her heart thudded as she glanced around her penthouse, its luxury and perfection suddenly feeling like a gilded cage. The idea of complete anonymity was as tantalizing as it was foreign. A place where her name, face, and reputation held no sway, where the burden of fame could be shed like a second skin—was such a thing even possible?

The glow of her phone lit her face as she typed the URL. The screen flickered to life, revealing a minimalist site with no distractions, no images, just a few lines of cryptic text. It spoke of an exclusive venue, a secret haven where identities dissolved, and people interacted without pasts or future judgments. A chill coursed down her arms as she read it again, each word stoking the embers of a rebellious thought that crackled within her.

She pressed her lips together, the decision forming like storm clouds in her mind. Her usual caution warred with a desperate hunger for escape. For once, she wouldn’t run it by her manager or think about potential repercussions. She would be just Yunjin, unknown and unseen.

Shaking fingers rummaged through her closet, pushing past glamorous gowns and performance outfits until she found a pair of dark jeans and a plain black hoodie. She slipped them on, the soft fabric foreign in its ordinariness. Her reflection in the mirror was almost startling—gone were the shimmering eyeshadow, sculpted features, and immaculate hair. Instead, a girl with wide, determined eyes looked back. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and donned a baseball cap, tucking wayward strands beneath it. Oversized sunglasses completed the disguise, shadowing her face despite the evening hour.

A small crossbody bag held her essentials, including the mysterious envelope and her phone, which she silenced before sliding it in. The muffled tick of the clock punctuated her hesitation, but the thrum in her chest urged her forward. The night was cool when she stepped out, the city’s breath washing over her as if daring her to blend into the current of people and lights.

Flagging down a cab felt like a small act of rebellion, its ordinary nature grounding her as the car hummed to life and pulled away from the curb. The rhythmic roll of the tires lulled her into contemplation. Streetlights cast fleeting halos on her window, the cityscape warping and softening in the glass’s reflection. She watched as neon signs, bustling restaurants, and late-night strollers gave way to quieter streets lined with shuttered shops and shadowed alleyways.

When the cab stopped in front of an unremarkable building, her pulse quickened. It stood under a flickering street lamp, modest and nondescript, its façade promising nothing yet holding everything she yearned for.

Yunjin paid the driver and stepped onto the cracked pavement, the city's hum receding to a low murmur. A sudden breeze lifted the edge of her hood as she pulled it lower, shielding herself from the scant light. The air tasted electric, anticipation sharp on her tongue.

This was it—a chance to disappear, to step into the unknown. The final glance over her shoulder was reflexive, a look at the life she was about to abandon, if only for a fleeting moment. With a deep breath, Yunjin pushed open the heavy door and let the shadows swallow her whole, a small smile curving her lips as the echo of her world fell away.

At the front desk, a woman with a soft, welcoming smile looked up, her glasses perched delicately on the tip of her nose, glinting under the warm glow of the overhead light. She exuded an air of quiet confidence, her poised demeanor a result of years of greeting visitors who approached with curiosity, nerves, or both.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice calm, warm, and practiced, like the embrace of a familiar song. The subtle scent of jasmine lingered in the air, a comforting contrast to the thundering beat of Yunjin’s heart. Sensing her demeanor the lady continued “First time?”

Yunjin gulped, the lump in her throat making her voice feel small and fragile. “Yes,” she replied, her tone soft and almost wavering, as if any louder would betray the torrent of emotions coursing through her.

The woman’s eyes, sharp yet kind, softened with a knowing glimmer as she slid a clipboard toward Yunjin across the polished, dark wood of the counter. The faint slide of paper against wood felt louder than it was, reverberating in Yunjin’s heightened state. “No worries, it’s all straightforward here. Just sign this waiver, and let me explain the options.” The receptionist’s tone was even, her words crafted to soothe. The clipboard itself seemed ordinary but held a gravity Yunjin wasn’t prepared for—a silent gateway between the ordinary and the unknown.

Yunjin's eyes dropped to the clipboard, the neatly printed text blurring slightly as her thoughts raced. The room felt warm, her breath shallow as she fought to calm herself. The woman’s voice interrupted her reverie, a steady anchor to the moment. “You can choose to give pleasure or receive it—whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

Yunjin’s pulse quickened, the choice startling in its simplicity yet weighted with implications. The muffled hum of distant music reached her ears, blending with the low thrum of blood rushing through her veins. She hadn’t anticipated the tension, the sudden clarity required for this decision.

“Um…” The hesitation hung between them, a breath caught in time. Yunjin’s gaze flickered from the clipboard to the woman’s reassuring eyes, and before she could rethink it, the words fell from her lips. “I’ll… give first.”

A smile curved the receptionist’s lips, gentle and knowing. She collected the clipboard once Yunjin had signed her name, fingers brushing lightly over the polished wood. “Great,” she said with a finality that both steadied and excited Yunjin. “Once you’re ready, head to the back, and follow the instructions inside. Take your time.” The words resonated like a promise, rich with unspoken possibilities.

Yunjin's feet felt both light and weighted as she moved through the hallway, each step echoing softly against the wooden floorboards. The corridor was lined with antique sconces that cast warm, flickering light, their glow reminiscent of gas lamps from another era. The scent of aged wood and varnish wrapped around her, steeped in a history of whispered secrets and uncharted desires.

The booth she entered was compact, almost intimate, its wooden frame dark with age and rich with a subtle scent of cedar. Faint scratches marred the surface, stories untold but felt through the marks of time. Yunjin adjusted herself on the worn seat, the old wood creaking beneath her slight movements. The small space was a capsule of warmth and nervous energy, making the moment feel both surreal and thrilling.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. The booth's walls seemed to close in protectively, muting the world outside and intensifying her awareness of herself. The anticipation coiled within her, electric and alive, as she opened herself up to whatever came next, ready to step across the invisible threshold and into the unknown.

Suddenly, a slight movement near her face broke her concentration. Her gaze shifted and there it was—a small, round hole in the partition between booths, a portal to the unknown. Through it, the tip of a penis slowly emerged, its presence both startling and enticing. The anonymity of the situation only added to the allure, as Yunjin found herself face to face with the mystery of a man she could neither see nor touch, save for this intimate connection.

The member that presented itself through the partition was of a decent size, neither intimidating nor meek. It commanded Yunjin's attention, a silent invitation to a dance of lust and longing. With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take her time, to explore and savor the experience. She was an artist, and this was her canvas.

As she leaned in, the warmth of her lips met the head of the cock with a gentle, yet commanding touch. Her technique was impeccable, a result of years of honing her craft. A low groan from the other side of the partition confirmed her skill, and a surge of empowerment washed over her. She was in control, a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire.

With each slide of her mouth, her tongue traced the sensitive underside of his member, eliciting a symphony of responses from the stranger. His breathing grew heavier, punctuating the air with anticipation. The twitching of his member within her mouth was a silent testament to her mastery, a sign that she was navigating the dance of desire with expert precision.

Yunjin's own moans began to mingle with the stranger's labored breaths, a chorus that filled the small, private space. She couldn't deny the pleasure she found in this unconventional tryst. There was a unique thrill in the anonymity, a liberation in the act of pleasuring someone whose face she would never know. It was a connection that transcended the physical, rooted in the raw and real exchange of passion.

The pace of her actions increased, her head bobbing with growing urgency, the wet sounds of her endeavors a testament to the fervor of the moment. She could sense the stranger's tension mounting, his breathing becoming shallow and ragged as he approached the precipice of release.

As the tension escalated, Yunjin sensed the subtle changes in the man's breathing—a mix of shallow, quick breaths escalating into a desperate, primal rhythm. The air grew thick with anticipation, and her heart pounded in sync with his. The cock in her mouth, already swollen with arousal, seemed to pulse with an electric charge, signaling the inevitable. His body tensed, muscles rigid as his climax built to an unstoppable crescendo. With just a whisper of warning, the stranger's control slipped away. A guttural, low growl vibrated through his chest, primal and raw, echoing in the confined space around them. Then, the release. It came like a warm, forceful flood, his hot, salty essence filling Yunjin's mouth with a sudden rush. She felt the throbbing intensify, each pulse delivering more of his essence, hot and thick against her tongue. Yunjin, caught in the wave of his ecstasy, swallowed eagerly, the flavors mixing in her mouth—salty, slightly bitter, yet uniquely intimate. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation, her own arousal amplifying as she savored the taste, the heat, the sheer intimacy of the act. As he reached his peak, she could feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away, the throbbing now a slower, gentler rhythm. The cock in her mouth began to soften, no longer the rigid rod of before, but yielding, becoming more pliable. Yunjin held him there, her lips and tongue still caressing, prolonging the connection. The afterglow of his climax lingered on her taste buds as she gently released him with a soft wet pop, her lips tracing a soft path along the now relaxed shaft, leaving a trail of warmth. The moment, intense and fleeting, left them both in a haze of satisfaction, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

A murmured thanks floated through the hole, a small acknowledgment of the intense connection they had shared, however fleeting. Yunjin took a moment to catch her breath, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter.

Despite the fleeting nature of their interaction, Yunjin felt a profound bond with the faceless man on the other side of the wall. It was a bond forged by mutual pleasure and vulnerability, a memory that would linger long after the carnival lights had dimmed.

Just as she began to compose herself, another surprise awaited her. From a different opening in the partition, a second shaft appeared—this one significantly larger and more imposing. Yunjin's breath hitched in her throat as she eyed the newcomer with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The first encounter had been a warm-up, but this? This was a challenge.

She hesitated, pondering if she could accommodate such a size, but the thrill of the challenge won out. With a cautious but determined glance, she edged closer to the second hole. Yunjin was ready to take the ride.

As she steeled herself, Yunjin's gaze was locked on the formidable appendage that stood before her. It was a symbol of virility and power, and she was determined to conquer it. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, her heart pounding like a drumline in her chest. The moment of contact was electric; her soft lips met the massive head of the cock, and a surge of warmth and intensity coursed through her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation as she focused all her strength and concentration on the task ahead.

The journey had begun, and Yunjin was committed to seeing it through. She slid her lips down the lengthy shaft, each inch a testament to her determination. The cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth, a living embodiment of the challenge she had accepted. It was a tight fit, pushing the limits of her oral cavity, and she could feel her throat constricting as she valiantly attempted to accommodate more of the imposing member.

Gagging and sputtering were inevitable, but Yunjin's will was made of sterner stuff. She refused to yield, pushing herself further, taking in more and more until she felt the cock hit the back of her throat. The sensation was overwhelming, but she welcomed it, pausing only to adjust before resuming her rhythmic motion. Her head bobbed back and forth, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth with practiced ease, a dance of passion and perseverance.

The thrill of the challenge was intoxicating. Yunjin's pulse raced with excitement as she deepthroats the massive cock, each thrust a declaration of her own capabilities. She was acutely aware of the wet patch growing on her panties, a visible sign of her arousal, as she moaned softly, the sound muffled by the object of her conquest. She was lost in the moment, her world narrowed to the feeling of being completely filled, completely consumed by the task at hand.

Her determination was not in vain. The man's body tensed, his breaths became labored gasps, and Yunjin knew she had driven him to the brink. The moment of truth arrived as his dick twitched and pulsed in her mouth, releasing a torrent of cum. She swallowed quickly, striving to keep up with the force of his ejaculation, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. Cum splashed against the back of her throat, overflowed, and covered her chin, dripping down her chest in a testament to her efforts.

Yunjin, a woman of remarkable poise and sensuality, found herself in a scenario that would have left many reeling. She had just concluded an intense session with two well-endowed partners, each man bringing his own brand of fervor and demanding her full attention and physicality. The encounter had been a marathon of pleasure and exertion, pushing Yunjin to the brink of her sexual prowess. Yet, as the second man withdrew, spent and satisfied, Yunjin was faced with an unanticipated third act.

Through the other hole stood another man, his desire evident and his anticipation palpable. His penis, while not as imposing as the ones that had preceded it, still presented a challenge. Yunjin, ever the consummate lover, was not one to back down from a challenge. She understood that satisfaction comes in many sizes and that her journey was far from over.

With a deep breath to center herself, Yunjin leaned in, her eyes locked onto his member as she took the whole cock easily into her mouth. The warmth of his flesh against her lips was a familiar sensation, yet it brought with it a new set of expectations. She was determined to lavish upon this man the same meticulous attention that she had given to the others, to bring him to the heights of pleasure despite the lingering sensation of fullness that still resonated within her from her previous encounters.

As she worked her magic, the man's response was immediate and visceral. He quickly reached his climax, and Yunjin braced herself for what was to come. To her astonishment, his orgasm was voluminous, exceeding even the generous offerings of the two men before him, combined. The warm, thick salty liquid hit the back of her throat with a force that caused her gag reflex to activate, the excess spilling out of her mouth and trickling down her chin.

The sensation was overwhelming, and Yunjin made a swift decision. She couldn’t take any more inside of her; she had reached her limit. Instead, she guided the man to finish all over her face. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back, she surrendered to the sensory overload. The cum splattered in waves across her face, marking her porcelain skin and staining her crimson hair with ropes of his essence. It dripped down her neck, leaving trails that soaked into her LE SSERAFIM top, a badge of honor from her latest conquest..

The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Yunjin. Here she was, a woman who had always prided herself on her control and composure, covered in the evidence of her sexual escapades. Yet, far from feeling debased, she felt empowered. The sensation was strange, yet not unpleasant, and in the midst of the chaos, she found a moment of quiet appreciation for the extremes to which her body and mind could be pushed.

As the man caught his breath and pulled away, Yunjin opened her eyes. A smile played across her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the journey she had just completed. She had not only endured but had triumphed, satisfying yet another partner with grace and determination. The experience had been intense, physically challenging, and emotionally exhausting, but it had also been exhilarating.

Yunjin stood, her body glistening with the remnants of her encounters, and made her way to the mirror. She gazed at her reflection, at the cum-covered visage that stared back at her, and she felt a surge of pride. She had pushed herself beyond her limits, and had proven to herself that she was capable of anything. In that moment, Yunjin embraced her strength, her resilience, and the sheer power of her sexuality.

She took a moment to catch her breath. She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and a sense of calm washed over her. But she was not ready to stop just yet. Quickly using the provided wipes, she cleaned herself slightly before she gathered up her remaining energy and boldly decided to continue.

Yunjin's heart danced to the staccato rhythm of her racing pulse as she navigated the dimly lit corridors of the building, her every step echoing the potent cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursing through her veins. She arrived at her destination, a secluded alcove whispered about in the hushed tones of the initiated, where the boundaries of the self are willingly blurred.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Yunjin began the ritual of undressing, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal the canvas of her unadorned skin. The cool air of the room kissed her bare flesh, sending a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of her exposed state. It was in this moment of nakedness, both literal and metaphorical, that Yunjin felt truly alive, her senses heightened to the symphony of whispers, rustling fabric, and the faint scent of desire that permeated the air.

Carefully, she positioned herself, ensuring comfort and security, but also the deliberate display of her most intimate self. The hole before her served as a portal to a world of anonymous connections, her bare pussy an offering to the unknown. As she closed her eyes, Yunjin surrendered to the vulnerability of her situation, a willing participant in the dance of the flesh.

The sounds from the adjacent room grew in intensity, a cacophony of deep moans and heavy breathing that spoke of the primal acts unfolding mere inches away. It was not long before the first of her anonymous suitors approached, his fingers tracing the contours of her exposed lower body with a reverence that belied the raw encounter to come.

He wastes no time in claiming what he sought, gripping Yunjin's hips with an urgency that communicated his need. She felt the heat of his body, the insistent press of his cock against her, seeking entry into the slick warmth of her tight cunt. As he entered her, Yunjin braced herself against the intrusion, the sensation of being filled overwhelming her senses.

The man's thrusts were fast and deep, driven by the intoxicating tightness that enveloped him. Yunjin's moans melded with the symphony of sounds that filled the room, her body responding to the relentless rhythm. Having spent the earlier part of the night pleasuring a succession of faceless men, now it was her turn to bask in the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf her.

Yunjin's body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through her veins. She could feel every inch of the man behind the wall. His thrusts were relentless, almost brutal in their intensity, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his touch.

She could hear the man's grunts and groans growing louder with each thrust, his hips slamming into her with a primal urgency that made her heart race. It was clear that he was chasing his own high, focused solely on the intense sensations coursing through his body.

Yunjin tried to match his rhythm, meeting each thrust with one of her own, but she was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel her orgasm building deep within her, the tension coiling in her belly as she gasped for breath.

Yunjin, in that moment, was just another warm, wet body used solely for pleasure. An extension of the overwhelming stimulation that threatened to swallow her whole. The scent of sex was thick in the air of the crowded room, mixing with the heady aroma of cologne and the musk of aroused bodies.

All around them, others writhed and cried out in ecstasy. Moans and screams filled the air, punctuated by the wet slap of flesh on flesh. It was a debauched scene straight out of Yunjin's wildest fantasies. And yet, even as her body climbed higher and higher towards the peak, her mind felt strangely detached. It was as if she was watching the whole thing unfold from outside herself.

The man's thrusts grew more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own end. Yunjin could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, her nails digging into the supple leather beneath her as she teetered on the very edge of oblivion.

With a final, powerful thrust, Yunjin's body tensed as she felt her world shatter into a thousand pieces. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, a rush of intense pleasure coursing through her veins and leaving her breathless. She threw her head back and cried out, the sound echoing through the room as she reveled in the indescribable sensation.

The man, still buried deep inside of her, let out a low groan as he felt her climax. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out the waves of pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he followed suit, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. The warmth of his seed filled her to the brim, a delicious sensation that only served to prolong her own orgasm.

"Ohhh yes!" Yunjin cried out, her voice filled with pure ecstasy. The intensity of the moment was etched into her memory, a moment of pure bliss that she would never forget. 

As the first man finished his climax, he pulled out, leaving Yunjin's hungry hole exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and the evidence of his pleasure. But there was no time for respite in this den of hedonism. No sooner had he withdrawn than another figure loomed, his member rigid and ready. Without hesitation, he plunged into her cum-slicked opening, claiming her for his own.

He started pumping with an urgency that matched the rhythm of her own racing heart. The wet sounds of their union resonated throughout the room, a testament to the slick, fervent fucking that was underway. Yunjin's body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet his every thrust, her fingers clawing at the edges of the bench that supported her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she panted, her voice a symphony of lust and longing. She was a vision of abandon, her body undulating with each powerful drive of his cock. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy, as she rode the wave of another impending climax.

The man showed no signs of slowing down, his own desires stoking the fire within Yunjin's core. She could feel the essence of her previous partner being churned inside her, the concoction adding to the intensity of the experience. "Mmmm it's so messy!" Yunjin gasped, the sensation of fluids squelching with each thrust only heightening her arousal.

He used the slickness to his advantage, fucking her with wild abandon, his hips a blur as he hammered in and out of her willing body. The room was filled with the sounds of their coupling—the slap of skin, the wet suction of her sex, and the growing crescendo of Yunjin's moans.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Yunjin wailed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her impending orgasm. Her pussy clenched around him, the sensitive walls of her sex gripping him tightly as she reached the precipice of pleasure. Her whole body shook, racked by the force of her climax, a climax that seemed to tear through her like a storm surge, leaving her spent and trembling in its wake.

As her orgasm subsided, the man continued to thrust, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure from Yunjin's satiated form. Finally, with a guttural growl, he too found his release, adding to the cum-slicked mess that Yunjin had become.

Exhausted but thoroughly sated, Yunjin collapsed onto the bench, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She was a writhing, moaning mess, her body marked by the intensity of her encounters. Yet, even as she lay there, the knowledge that this was but a moment in her endless pursuit of pleasure brought a knowing smile to her lips.

In the dimly lit confines of an intimate chamber, Yunjin found herself amidst a symphony of desire, a realm where pleasure was the only currency. After a series of passionate trysts, she braced herself for the final act of her evening, a performance that promised to be as memorable as it was intense.

As her body, still quivering from the reverberations of her last climax, began to settle, Yunjin sensed the approach of another. She was acutely aware that this would be her final partner for the night, and there was something decidedly different about him. The anticipation of his touch rekindled the warmth and pulsating sensitivity of her pussy, remnants of her recent orgasmic journey.

The man's presence was commanding yet tender as he teased her entrance, his warmth radiating against her sensitive flesh. She recognized him by his formidable size—the same man she had pleasured orally earlier. His endowment, both exciting and intimidating, had left a lasting impression, and the recognition only stoked the fires of her arousal.

As he began to enter her, Yunjin braced herself for the sensation of being filled beyond what she had ever known. His size was not just impressive; it bordered on the edge of her comfort zone, yet she found herself craving more. With each deliberate inch that slid inside, her body stretched to accommodate his girth, yielding to his impressive member with a mix of trepidation and eagerness.

The intensity of fullness was almost too much to bear, but it was swiftly replaced by waves of pleasure that accompanied each of his thrusts. Her body was being pushed to its limits, but in the most exhilarating way imaginable. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his shaft, creating a friction that sent shivers of delight coursing through her.

Instinct took over, and Yunjin began to match his rhythm, eager to feel him reach the deepest parts of her. The man responded in kind, increasing the force of his thrusts, making her gasp with each powerful drive. The room echoed with the raw, primal sound of their bodies uniting, a testament to the pleasure they were creating together.

Yunjin's heart raced, each beat a drumbeat echoing in her ears as she scaled the heights of her pleasure. Her legs trembled with the exertion, her muscles coiling tighter with each passing second. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, a palpable tension that begged for release.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with the raw edge of desperation.

He responded with a powerful surge, his body moving with an intensity that matched her own fervor. Their rhythm was frenzied, a dance of two souls seeking unity in the most primal way.

"Please," she begged, her pride forgotten in the face of the overwhelming need that consumed her.

His answer was a focused, deliberate motion, a targeted strike against her inner walls that made stars explode behind her closed eyelids. Yunjin's world shattered as she reached the pinnacle of her climax. Her voice broke the stillness, a cry of pure, unadulterated bliss that filled the room.

"FUCK… you’re so big!" she exclaimed, her body arching into his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Her inner muscles pulsed around him, a rhythmic clenching that milked his own release. He threw his head back, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he let out a deep, resonant groan. Yunjin felt the heat of his climax as he spilled into her, the sensation drawing out her own pleasure until she was utterly spent.

For a moment, they existed in a perfect state of satiation, their bodies still intimately connected. Yunjin's breaths slowly evened out, her heartbeat gradually returning to normal. She lay there, boneless and content, a soft smile playing on her lips as the aftershocks of their union rippled through her.

As the intensity of the moment subsided, Yunjin savored the feeling of completeness. The warmth of his release spread through her, a sensation that was both comforting and deeply satisfying. Her body, now spent and limp, was a testament to the pleasure he had wrought.

In the afterglow of their erotic encounter, she lay back on the leather that clung to her skin, her body a canvas of pleasure and fatigue. Her breaths came in slow, deep waves, each one a testament to the intensity of the experience they had just shared. She was in a state of blissful exhaustion, every muscle in her body seemingly liquefied in the wake of her climax.

The mystery stud, still poised behind the wall, looked at her quivering folds, his gaze held a mixture of pride and satisfaction. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye he leaned in for one final, electrifying farewell.

His hand came down on her sex with a sure, resounding slap that echoed through the room, its sharpness jolting her senses. The stinging sensation arched her back, drawing a surprised moan from her lips as the sound lingered—a provocative reminder of their raw, unrestrained passion.

Before she could fully process the shock, his mouth descended with a searing kiss to her throbbing clit, warm and intent. The heat enveloped her, sending a fresh wave of pleasure rippling through her. His tongue moved deftly, coaxing her sensitive flesh to life with skilled flicks and gentle pulls, each movement reigniting her body’s desire.

A gasp escaped her as she shivered, goosebumps rising over her skin. Still sensitive from her previous release, she felt her body surge with renewed intensity. Her every nerve responded to him, the initial sting of his touch melting into the tender warmth of his kiss, the sensations mingling in a dizzying contrast that left her breathless. She was caught in the duality of it—the lingering sting meeting the sweetness of his lips—a perfect balance between the need to retreat from the intensity and the desire to lose herself in it entirely.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulled back, leaving her body trembling and her chest rising with deep, satiated breaths. Covered in a light sheen of sweat, she had long since lost count of her climaxes, each one more powerful than the last. As she lay there, immersed in the warmth of their connection, she knew that this night would remain etched in her memory—a moment where passion, intensity, and an unspoken bond came together in something that transcended the physical.

She rose slowly from the plush cushions her legs trembling slightly from the exertions of the evening. Standing in the dimly lit room that had been her sanctuary, she caught her reflection in the nearby mirror. Her gaze drifted over her own form—a canvas marked by the unmistakable signs of release. Her skin was damp, glistening with the mingled residue of sweat and pleasure, each trace a testament to the intensity of the night.

She felt wonderfully full, her body carrying the subtle reminders of her encounters, tokens of the night that would stay with her as she stepped back into the world.

Yunjin moved to the bathroom, her steps careful, almost reverent. Warm water streamed over her, washing away the physical remnants of her indulgence, swirling down the drain in a quiet cleanse. Yet even as the evidence vanished, she knew that the essence of the night would remain—a secret, a sense of renewal that she would carry back into her public persona.

Dressed once again in her street clothes—a chic outfit that belied the wildness of her evening—Yunjin gathered her belongings: a sleek purse, comfy sneakers, and a renewed sense of self. She paused at the mirror, captivated by her own reflection. The woman staring back was radiant, her eyes alight with a new fire, a private victory that fame alone could never quite evoke. It was a glow that belonged to her alone.

At the front desk, Yunjin was met with the same quiet discretion as when she’d first arrived. The hostess, ever the silent guardian of this hidden world, handed her a sleek business card—a subtle invitation to return. Yunjin responded with a slight smile, a silent promise to herself that she would indeed revisit this sanctuary of indulgence.

Just as she turned to leave, a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“Hi, Ms. Jeon. Welcome back!”

Yunjin froze, her heart skipping as she spun around to see none other than her friend, Jeon Somi, standing just a few feet away. Somi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and she cocked her head, taking in Yunjin’s slightly disheveled appearance. Blood rushed to Yunjin’s cheeks, embarrassment rising fast—of all people, she hadn’t expected to see Somi here.

“S-Somi?” she stammered, caught off guard. “What… what are you doing here?”

Somi chuckled, enjoying Yunjin’s flustered reaction. She took a step closer, her gaze warm but curious. “I didn’t know you knew about this place.”

Yunjin shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “Yeah, well…” She trailed off, unable to find the words, but Somi simply grinned and leaned in slightly, her expression softening.

Without a word, Somi’s eyes glinted with mischief as she inhaled, catching the faint scent lingering on Yunjin’s clothes—a subtle hint of musk and release. She pulled back, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“I’m here for the same reason as you, I presume?” Somi teased, raising an eyebrow.

Yunjin’s face grew hotter, mortified that Somi could sense exactly what she’d been up to. She bit her lip, laughing nervously. “I… guess so,” she mumbled, managing a sheepish grin. “Didn’t think I’d… run into anyone I know here.”

Somi chuckled warmly, patting Yunjin’s shoulder with a playful smile. “Hey, we all need a place like this sometimes, right? No judgment.” She glanced back toward the hallways, her voice softening. “Anyway, I had a long day. I’ll see you around.”

Before Yunjin could respond, Somi turned and headed toward the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps fading into the quiet shadows of the hidden world they both shared. Yunjin watched her friend disappear, feeling a strange mix of relief, embarrassment, and an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Left standing by the entrance, Yunjin took a steadying breath, her heartbeat gradually slowing. Tomorrow, she would return to her carefully crafted public life. But tonight, she carried the thrill of her private indulgence—and the quiet comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone in seeking a place to shed her public self, if only for a moment.

[ratgrinders]

Ok here's an updated timeline of the Rat Grinders based on the new info we got this episode:

Freshman Year

On the first day of classes Kipperlily and the others meet and form their adventuring party. Kipperlily comes up with the name the High Five Heroes.

Kipperlily excels academically, but the High Five Heroes only go on easier adventures, presumably to ensure they will succeed rather than fail at something challenging.

Ruben is primarily an acoustic/soft rock musician.

Kipperlily begins to have childish rage and resentment towards Riz and the other Bad Kids, which start out petty but gradually grow in intensity over the next couple years.

Sophomore Year

An increase in hostility, one of the first meetings Kipperlily has this year is being jealous that Riz's dad was killed by Kalvaxus, that if a person has suffered immense magical hardship it is an unfair advantage in adventuring.

Kipperlily tries to find evidence of conspiracy with her parents and is enraged that they are boring.

A week after spring break the High Five Heroes go on their first quest to the mountains of chaos, chaperoned by Jace Stardiamond.

After this, the High Five Heroes seem to undergo a shift where their rage is amplified. Kipperlily's counselor files become much more venomous towards the Bad Kids, Ruben shifts to emo music, etc.

At some point after this Ivy and Oisin propose changing the name to the Rat Grinders. Kipperlily opposes this and Lucy is on her side, but Ruben votes against her because it makes her upset and Mary Ann also votes against her but doesn't explain her reasoning.

A piece of paperwork is submitted for Lucy to change her god, but another piece of paperwork is filed afterwards rescinding that application, presumably by Lucy herself changing her mind.

Towards the end of the year, after grades are finalized but before classes are over thus avoiding the pass/fail penalty, Lucy dies in the far haven woods near Aguefort. Presumably, she could have been resurrected in service of this unnamed rage god, but chose not to. She "stuck to her guns".

Kipperlily's rage towards the Bad Kids has transitioned from childish to venomous, she "hates them".

Junior Year

At some point between the end of Sophomore year and the beginning of Junior year, the Rat Grinders specifically request Buddy Dawn join their party as a cleric.

At 8:01 am, the first day of classes, Kipperlily goes to Ashgrove to dig up the rogue teacher's grave, thus forcing her to reveal herself and granting Kipperlily a pass for all her rogue classes for the year. Presumably she was aware of the rogue teacher's grave beforehand (information only available in Arthur Aguefort's office) but waited until the start of Junior year so she could pass all her classes for the year.

Kipperlily announces her bid to run for student council president, with a platform based on equity, equanimity, and fairness.

Kipperlily asks Jawbone about the creation of Yes! and the events of prompocalypse

Her counselor notes become extremely enraged, with her straight up wanting to kill Kristin and being angry that she can't get to her thanks to Fig's protection.

Oisin, Ivy, and Buddy are seen at Fabian's house party during the first week of classes. Kipperlily is not seen but is possibly there invisible. The Bad Kids are asked to do drugs but decline. That same night, mephits steal part of a cloud rider engine kept in Seacaster Manor.

At the school assembly the following day Principal Grix reveals he was notified of students doing drugs off campus, meaning its possible the Rat Grinders tipped him off in an attempt to get the Bad Kids in trouble.

Ruben performs presumably some kind of ritual at the Frosty Fair Folk festival, with the other Rat Grinders conspicuously absent. Simultaneously, Yolanda Badgood falls dead in the same place where Lucy Frostblade died, after Yolanda had been made aware of Lucy's change in god and was investigating it. Yolanda also refuses to be resurrected in service of the rage god.

The Rat Grinders are seen at the assembly addressing Yolanda's death and how all clerics would be moved to pass/fail. Most look bored, Mary Ann isn't paying attention, and Buddy is unconcerned.

Kipperlily and Oisin get caught trying to sabotage the Bad Kids' Last Stand exam, and Kipperlily kills Buddy. Ten minutes after the Bad Kids plane shift away, Buddy is revived by an unknown figure and he pledges his allegiance to the rage god.

Now the Rat Grinders are scheduled for another trip to the Mountains of Chaos and are on complete lockdown, hiding all of them from Adaine's divination magic.

[bamfkeeper]

Above.

RQ: 'Hello 👋 I was hoping your requests are still open and I'm not too late! I know my oc Haven is very specific, and I completely understand if you need to work around. I wanted to request a fic centered around the idea that Haven returns to earth in their Seraphim form with like a whole new bunch of traumas, and they think Kurt will not like them anymore because they're a freaky-looking angelic alien with seven eyes and shit. I hope it's not too much, I completely understand if u ignore this request, lmao.' - @ladylorem

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!Reader // Warnings: None

A/N: My very first X-Men oc was a 'fallen seraph' so your oc really brings me back. I love them, and I'm happy to write this for you. I hope I do a good job, I took some liberty since oc work isn't something I am currently doing, but it will heavily be based on the scenario you gave me. No specific names will be used in this. Also tried a new writing style <3 WC: 2.4k

Deep breath...shit.

You sat up slowly, your eyelids fluttering open as consciousness gradually returned. A deep, pervasive ache radiated through every fiber of your being, accompanied by a disorienting fog that clouded your thoughts. The pulsating pain in your head served as an unwelcome alarm clock, forcing you into full wakefulness. As your senses sharpened, you became acutely aware of your surroundings, taking in every detail with newfound clarity.

An unfamiliar sensation coursed through your veins, a palpable energy that seemed to hum just beneath your skin. This newfound power, a direct result of your celestial descent, both exhilarated and unsettled you. The transformation you had undergone during your otherworldly journey altered you in ways you had yet to fully comprehend, including your physical appearance.

As the initial shock of your awakening began to subside, a single thought crystallized in your mind: Kurt. The overwhelming desire to find him, to see a familiar face in this sea of uncertainty, consumed you. Yet, even as you yearned for his presence, a nagging doubt crept into your thoughts. How would he react to your metamorphosis? Would he recognize you? Accept you? The fear of rejection battled with your need for connection, leaving you torn between seeking him out and retreating into solitude to process your transformation.

You stood on wobbly legs, reminiscent of a newborn fawn taking its first, shaky steps into the world. The sensation coursing through your body was an enigmatic blend of strength and weakness, as if a potent mixture of adrenaline and warm gasoline was flowing through your veins, igniting every nerve ending. You felt hot, your skin almost smoking and emitting waves of warm rays that coated you from the cool night air.

Your physical form had undergone a transformation, taking on what you could only describe as a more... biblical appearance. Though you couldn't discern the exact nature of your new visage, you knew it was likely most who gazed upon you would react with fear.

All you yearned for in this moment was to see Kurt, nothing else mattered. The ordeal you had endured left you craving the comfort only he could provide. You longed for the familiar warmth of his embrace, the gentle strength of his arms encircling you, creating a sanctuary where you could momentarily forget the events that had transpired. Your heart ached for the soothing words he always seemed to know how to offer, his voice a gentle blanket to your frayed nerves and turbulent emotions.

"Kurt..." you whispered softly, your voice barely audible as you set off on your quest to find him. The unfamiliar surroundings did little to deter your determination. Despite having landed in an unknown location, a mysterious force seemed to guide your every step. It was as if an invisible thread connected your heart to his, pulling you gently but insistently in the right direction. Your intuition, honed by years of connection and shared experiences, acted as an unerring compass, leading you through the unfamiliar terrain of the thick forest.

As you navigated, your thoughts drifted to Kurt. You couldn't help but reflect on the unique bond you shared - a connection so profound that it transcended physical distance and the constraints of the ordinary world. He had always been the one person who truly understood you, who held your heart with a tenderness that both comforted and amazed you. He was the first person, first mutant who didn’t try to hurt you. Instead, he approached you like a person, talking and making you feel more at ease despite your first introduction to the team. He made you feel safe.

When you finally reached the mansion, exhaustion had overtaken you. Your body felt like lead, weighing you down with each step. Fatigue clouded your mind, making even the simplest thoughts a struggle. A gnawing hunger twisted in your stomach, reminding you of how long it had been since your last meal. Damn, some of Kurt’s cooking sounded great right about now. The biting cold had seeped into your bones, causing involuntary shivers to run through your frame. All you could think about was the warmth and comfort of Kurt's bed, imagining yourself wrapped in soft blankets, safe from the harsh world outside.

With sheer determination, you willed your leaden legs to keep moving. Each step was a battle against your body's desire to simply collapse where you stood. The mansion loomed before you, almost taunting your weary state. Just a little further, you told yourself, even as your muscles screamed in protest. Finally, your strength gave out.

Unable to take another step, you felt your knees buckle beneath you. The world tilted, and you found yourself falling forward, your hands and knees sinking into the damp, cool grass of the mansion's lawn. The moisture from the ground seeped through your clothes, you swayed and ended up falling over on your side. The world faded to black after that, and you felt all the pain disappear.

When you regained consciousness, your numerous eyes slowly flickering open, you found yourself lying in the sterile environment of the mansion's infirmary. Not the best place to wake up to…it didn’t exactly have a good record in your mind. The stark white ceiling above you gradually came into focus as you blinked away the lingering haziness of unconsciousness. As your vision began to clear, you noticed a blurry blue figure standing nearby, its presence both comforting and familiar.

Your mind, still foggy from whatever ordeal had brought you here, immediately conjured thoughts of Kurt. With a surge of hope, you attempted to speak his name, your voice coming out as little more than a hoarse whisper. However, as you blinked more forcefully, willing your eyes to cooperate and bring the world into sharper focus, the blue blur began to take on a more distinct shape.

As the figure's features became clearer, a wave of disappointment washed over you. The furry blue form standing at your bedside was not the lithe, acrobatic shape of your Nightcrawler, but rather the broader, more imposing silhouette of Beast. You couldn't help but let out a small sigh, your expectations dashed even as you recognized the concern evident in Hank's intelligent eyes.

"There we are, take it easy now...you're okay. Just exhausted and a little weak. Nothing some rest and medicine won't help." Hank noted, his voice gentle and reassuring. He maintained a respectful distance, carefully observing your condition without encroaching on your personal space. His medical expertise was evident in the way he assessed your state, but he was mindful not to overwhelm you with too much attention or proximity. He understood that in your vulnerable state, even well-intentioned gestures might be misinterpreted or cause discomfort. Especially knowing your history with him and the others.

Despite Hank's soothing words and professional demeanor, his voice seemed to fade into the background of your consciousness. Your mind was singularly focused on one person, the one you desperately needed to see. The concern etched on Hank's face barely registered as your thoughts raced, wondering about Kurt's whereabouts and whether he was aware of your current situation. The urgency to connect with him overshadowed everything else, even your own physical discomfort.

"Kurt...I-" you managed to utter, your voice weak but filled with longing and concern.

"He's coming. I promise," Hank interjected quickly, his tone reassuring and firm. He recognized the importance of Kurt's presence in your recovery and sought to alleviate your worry with this simple yet powerful assurance.

The door swung open with a sudden creak, and there he stood, your beloved Kurt, framed in the doorway. His striking yellow eyes were wide with concern, brimming with a mixture of worry and relief as they locked onto your form. Without hesitation, he rushed into the room, his movements urgent and slightly clumsy in his haste. He nearly stumbled over his own feet in his eagerness to reach your bedside, his tail swishing anxiously behind him.

In an instant, he was at your side, his hands enveloping your own, having ripped off his gloves so he could feel you. His grip was gentle yet firm, conveying a multitude of emotions through that simple touch. You could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, his concern ran deep and he looked as though he had seen a ghost, like he believed you died. The warmth of his hands felt nice against the cool, sterile atmosphere of the room, providing a comforting anchor in the otherwise clinical environment.

Kurt's lips parted, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. "L-liebling..." he managed to utter. His gaze never left yours, silently communicating all the things left unsaid between you.

His expression remained steadfast, never wavering for a moment. His eyes meticulously scanned your appearance, taking in every detail with a mixture of confusion and worry etched across his features. However, contrary to your expectations, there was no trace of disgust or fear in his gaze. Instead, his eyes held a depth of emotion that spoke volumes.

"D...Don't...scare me like that..." Kurt finally managed to articulate, his voice barely above a whisper as he swallowed thickly. The words seemed to catch in his throat, as if he was struggling to voice the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. "I was...so afraid I would never see you again. I had no idea where you had gone off to," he continued, his voice cracking slightly with the weight of his confession.

Though his words carried a hint of admonishment, as if he was attempting to scold you for your disappearance, the underlying pain in his voice was unmistakable. The tremor in his voice betrayed the fear he had experienced during your absence, and the palpable relief that washed over him now that you were back in his sight.

"I'm sorry...you're not...afraid?" Your voice quivered with a mixture of disbelief and vulnerability. "Look at me now. I look utterly..." Your words trailed off, unable to find the right descriptor for your current state. A tumultuous blend of emotions washed over you - sadness at your appearance, anger at the situation, and confusion at his unexpected reaction. You had braced yourself for revulsion, for fear, for any number of negative responses.

Yet here he was, his eyes filled with nothing but genuine concern. It defied all your expectations, leaving you feeling both comforted and somehow more exposed. "Why are you so concerned despite my appearance?" you found yourself asking, your tone a blend of wonder and wariness. "I was certain you'd react differently, that you'd recoil or..." You left the sentence unfinished, the possibilities too painful to voice.

But contrary to your fears, he sat there unwavering, his worry for you evident in every line of his face, in the way he leaned towards you as if wanting to offer comfort but unsure if it would be welcome.

"Why would I care about your appearance? I... I mean, yes, you do look different, but that's not what matters," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. He slowly reached up, his three-fingered hand gently caressing your cheek. He allowed his fingers to tenderly trace the contours of your face, memorizing every new detail. A soft, reassuring smile spread across his lips as he gazed into your eyes.

"You're still... you," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. That gentle smile widened slightly, revealing his pointed canines, "The essence of who you are, your spirit, your heart - that hasn't changed. And that's what truly matters to me."

His eyes sparkled with warmth and understanding as he added, "Besides, mein Engel... I'm blue from head to toe and have a tail. Who am I to pass judgment based on appearances? We're both unique in our own ways, and that's what makes us special."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as that particular stressor dissipated, leaving you with a sense of renewed calm. Kurt remained silent for a moment, his eyes filled with relief that you were okay and compassion as he knew your mental struggles were flaring.

Then, with a gentle voice that carried the weight of his sincerity, he spoke up again, "And whatever else you're grappling with, whatever challenges you're facing... I want you to know that I'm here for you. Not just now, but always. No matter where life takes you, no matter how far you might wander, I'll be here, waiting. You are the beating heart of my existence, the love that gives my life meaning. In me, you will always find a sanctuary, a place of unconditional acceptance and unwavering support. You are my home, and I promise to be yours, forever and always."

"I... I'm at a loss for words. Your reaction is so unexpected, given my altered appearance and... the events that transpired." You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. "I love you too, more than I can express. I'm truly sorry for my sudden disappearance. There were...complications I needed to resolve. But now, being back here with you, I'm relieved. Seeing you, seeing how you look at me...nothing has changed, has it?" You let out a sigh of relief, your hand weakly reaching and holding onto his.

"I've missed you. You've always been the one person who could see through my façade, who could truly understand me despite everything. Your acceptance...without any kind of ill thoughts, it means everything to me."

"As do you, liebling...Ich liebe dich. I am here now, you are not alone anymore," he whispered tenderly, his voice a soft caress in the quiet room. With gentle movements, he carefully shifted closer, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he settled beside you. His arms enveloped you in a warm, comforting embrace, pulling you against his chest with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his affection. This was all you wanted…his arms tenderly holding you. "You've been through so much, mein schatz, but I promise you, those days of loneliness are behind you now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Let me…"

His lips quirked into a playful smirk, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he added, "Besides, now you have more eyes to gaze into, hm? Twice the charm, wouldn't you say?" His attempt at lightening the mood was met with a gentle swat to his chest, your hand connecting with the soft fabric of his uniform.

"Kurt..." you murmured, a mix of exasperation and fondness coloring your voice. "You absolute dork." Despite your words, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, betraying the warmth that spread through your chest at his endearing antics.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover image: Nightcrawler (2015) # 10 ; Pinterest

[uchihaxitachi]

Yandere Itachi Bringing Gifts

It stems from something incomprehensible, sometimes he brings them out of guilt. Being a shinobi is hard, oftentimes making Itachi compromise with his presence around her. How is he able to feel better when his mind knows that the poor thing has to sleep alone… eat alone… Itachi isn’t here to take care of her, to bring her breakfast… to help her shower. He also knows that the times he is out of their shared haven, he’s just ensuring that she’s caged after all.

When he opens the door, quietly coming inside & watching her beautiful face. Everything starts to make sense. Itachi often wonders if he would change his life decisions and avoid the massacre… not until he met her. He doesn’t wish to change anything at all.

How could he? If his life’s events didn’t turn out like the way they were… he wouldn’t have met her. “Hello, my dearest Angel.” His voice is like molten gold, echoing in the otherwise quiet house. She gazes up, meeting his stare. She hates him, he’s changed her life upside down. He’s claimed her in ways she’s hated and loved…

“Welcome home Itachi.” She smiled, yet, after being so alone, any presence is welcome. Even if it’s the bloody captor, the infamous S-Ranked Criminal from the Akatsuki. The crimson clouds on his robe shining like blood. “I missed you, darling.” Itachi hums, kneeling down and leaning his head on her lap. Itachi wasn’t comfortable with touches either, but he’s started to initiate them & gets testy when he feels rejected. Her hands thread against his silky black hair, lips parted.

“Missed you, as well..” so thoughtful, his little baby.

“I got you something.” Itachi hums, holding her hand & urging her to get up. She wonders what it would be this time, as an excuse for her freedom. They walk outside the house, watching a little kitten playing in the grass fields, chasing butterflies.

Oh-

She runs and captures the little animal in her arms, hugging it tightly. Any presence in the house is appreciated when Itachi leaves…

Guess this gift is an appropriate enough for her temporary happiness…

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Chapter six)

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

Word Count | 3.2k (hihi 🤫)

A/N | Happy Halloween, everyone! I know it was supposed to be a Halloween fic with John Constantine, but I totally ran out of ideas for the storyline 😭

Previous chapter!

The park was stunning under the golden sunlight. The weather was perfectly cooperative, as if the universe was on Mia's side that day. The sky, without a single cloud, displayed a deep and serene blue, and the trees around, with their dense and lush canopies, swayed gently in the breeze. Mia felt at peace there, as if the park were an extension of the bookstore—a place where she could feel at home, surrounded by tranquility and beauty.

The event was going better than she expected. The welcoming atmosphere had an almost magical touch, attracting people of all ages. Children ran back and forth, some stopping at the small tables where books were displayed. Young couples and families walked hand in hand, showing interest in the covers of stories carefully selected by Mia and Tom. Some paused to leaf through the books, and Mia noticed the spark of curiosity in their eyes, which made her even more hopeful for the future of the bookstore.

She watched from afar with a discreet smile on her face, satisfied with the outcome so far. The sense of harmony enveloped everyone, as if for a few hours they were immersed in a world of words and stories.

Tom had stepped out for a moment to fetch his girlfriend, Lyla. Mia had always liked Lyla—her striking beauty was complemented by a kindness that won everyone over. Lyla was always willing to help with the bookstore, offering support and creative ideas. This friendship made Mia feel grateful to have her around.

While waiting for the two to return, Mia walked over to one of the tables to organize some misplaced books, observing the satisfied faces around her. The gentle breeze brought the fresh scent of trees and damp grass, mingling with the light floral perfume of Lyla that still seemed to linger in the air since the last time they were together.

She took a deep breath, savoring the moment. The park vibrated with laughter and conversation, but in her heart, there was a serene calm, as if all the effort to keep the bookstore alive was finally being rewarded. Mia felt that this event was a small step toward her dream—a place where people could reconnect with the joy of reading.

For a moment, her eyes drifted into the crowd. Although surrounded by people, she couldn’t help but think of John. He still hadn’t shown up, but she knew he was the unpredictable type. Would he come? And if he did, what would it be like to see him in that environment, so different from the bookstore, where he always seemed serious and reserved?

As these thoughts occupied her mind, the sunlight reflected off the leaves, creating patterns of light and shadow that danced on the park’s ground. It was a perfect day, and she could only hope that fate would collaborate once more, perhaps bringing John’s presence along with it.

Not far away, on the other side of the park, John stood in the distance, shaded by a tree, his eyes keenly observing the movement in the park. He had opted for something more discreet this time—dark jeans and a shirt with a brown jacket over it, quite different from the usual suit he wore. It was rare for him to allow himself to step away from the nearly constant uniform of his professional life, but that day, the relaxed atmosphere of the park seemed to call for a more casual approach.

Even so, his survival instincts were always on alert. The hitman in John never rested. He observed the event as he would any mission, sweeping the area with his eyes and mentally mapping out exits, assessing people and watching for any suspicious behavior. There were families, children running between tables, adults curiously flipping through books. Everything seemed... normal. But normal was not something he easily trusted.

Yet, his gaze always returned to her. Mia.

She looked different under the sunlight—more vibrant, more radiant. The light dress she wore, in a soft shade that contrasted with the surrounding greenery, made her seem like a natural part of that environment. He noticed how the fabric moved with the breeze, accentuating her silhouette in a way that, though modest, drew him in almost inevitably. John wasn’t the type of man to be swayed by appearances, but there was something about Mia's naturalness, her simplicity, that made him want to get closer, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

He watched her interact with people, always so polite, so kind. She seemed at ease there, as if that small event in the park were an extension of the bookstore she loved so much. There was a lightness in Mia’s movements, as if the world didn’t carry the same weight on her shoulders that it did on his. This intrigued him—and, on some level, unsettled him.

As he watched, John assessed the location. There were few easy exits if anything went wrong, and the number of people meant he would have to be careful if any threat arose. He couldn’t help but evaluate each unfamiliar face, paying attention to any odd behavior. That was part of who he was—an instinct deeply ingrained.

But in that moment, there were no signs of danger. Just Mia and her world, functioning in perfect harmony. John clenched his fists, struggling against the urge to approach. He knew the right thing would be to turn away and disappear, but something kept him there. He didn’t allow himself to get involved with "normal" people—not anymore. The cost was always too high.

Still, there was something in Mia that made him hesitate.

He found himself watching as the sun illuminated her face when she leaned down to help someone, the genuine smile she offered to each person. There was a beauty in that, a simplicity he didn’t know. It was as if, for a moment, the world around her was lighter, less dark. And part of him wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be a part of that, even if just briefly.

John took a deep breath, trying to push away the thoughts that plagued him. The doubts about his presence there and what it meant to be so close to Mia made him uneasy. But even from a distance, her eyes seemed to pull him closer, as if saying it was safe to approach. He knew that wasn’t true—nothing was ever safe in his life. Yet, in that moment, he hesitated, an almost irresistible impulse drawing him toward her.

A car screeching to a halt behind him snapped his attention, jolting him out of his reverie. He turned, instinctively on guard, his survival instincts kicking in. Almost without realizing, he heard light footsteps on the fallen leaves covering the grass, and his heart raced. As he turned, the last thing he expected to see was Mia, approaching with her hands behind her back and a sweet smile that lit up her face.

The sight of her caught him off guard, and he felt his heart skip a beat, an almost forgotten sensation. The lightness in her expression and the joy radiating from her made her seem even more enchanting. It was as if the world around him had vanished, leaving only that singular moment, where nothing else mattered.

John almost looked around, perplexed, wondering how she found him. It was as if she had a sixth sense for locating him, no matter how well he hid. He wondered if, somewhere deep down, she understood him in a way that no one else could. The way her eyes sparkled, filled with fun and an innocence that intrigued him, made his mind spin. He was so used to keeping his distance, but Mia seemed to be a force pulling him to a place he had never allowed himself to be.

“I'm so glad you came!” She exclaimed, her excitement filling the air with vibrant energy. Her smile was contagious, and even though he was reluctant, John couldn't help but feel a small, genuine smile appear on his lips, something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You seemed hesitant to approach, so I decided to come over and call you.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, incredulity escaping his lips, but there was a lightness that contradicted his usual distance. “I just... didn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding at all! Come on, I’ll show you what we’re doing.” Mia took a step forward, gesturing with her hands for him to follow. “The event is pretty lively. There are lots of people and several tables with books.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the way she spoke, so naturally, drew him closer. “And are you... okay?” He asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yes! I’m a bit nervous, but that’s normal, right?” She laughed, the sound light and sincere. “I just want people to enjoy it and come to know the bookstore. Every person who walks by is a victory!”

John watched her as they walked, noticing how she seemed to shine in that atmosphere. “You really care about this.”

“Of course! It’s a dream I’m trying to keep alive,” she replied, the sincerity in her voice making her even more captivating. “And I hope you, Mr. Wick, feel part of it too.”

He laughed, a low sound without humor. “Mr. Wick? Don’t make me sound so formal.”

Mia stopped and turned to him, her eyes sparkling with fun. “Okay, then you prefer John? I’ll try to remember that.” She tilted her head, looking at him with an expression of camaraderie. “Just don’t make me call you ‘Mr. Wick’ in public, because then you’ll really make me nervous!”

He shook his head, laughing. “Don’t worry, you can use whatever you want. I’m not very good with these title things.”

“Great! So, John, are you ready to mingle?” Mia continued to gently pull him in the direction of the event, her excitement almost palpable. “I promise you’ll have fun.”

He hesitated, but her confidence was contagious. “Let’s see how it goes.”

As they approached the tables with displayed books, John felt his gaze drawn to a thick volume with a richly bound leather cover. His fingers itched to pick it up, feeling the weight and texture of that well-crafted book. There was something almost nostalgic about it, a silent appreciation he had for such details.

“Do you like bookbinding?” Mia asked, noticing his interest.

“I do,” he admitted, holding the book between his hands. “It’s... an art in itself, preserving stories.”

Mia watched him, visibly surprised. “I would never have imagined. I think there are a lot of things I still don’t know about you.”

John turned the book in his hands, appreciating every detail on the cover. “Bookbinding is a form of respect for stories, don’t you think?” He commented, almost as if speaking to himself. “Something that transforms content into something enduring.”

Mia smiled, fascinated by how he viewed the object in his hands. “I’ve never thought of it that way… but it makes perfect sense. A good book can last generations. That must be why I’m so attached to my grandfather’s bookstore.”

He raised his gaze to her, with an expression that mixed surprise and understanding. “It seems he passed on more than just a business to you. It’s rare to see someone so young have such an appreciation.”

“I think it’s one of those things you learn over time. And I... well, I feel like I’m just starting.” She shrugged, a light smile on her lips. “And you? How did someone like you come to like bookbinding?”

John hesitated, but for some reason, the barriers he usually erected seemed less solid. “It’s... complicated. It’s part of a past I tend to leave behind, but... I still like it.” He paused before letting out a small smile. “In a way, it’s almost therapeutic. A work of precision, something that requires patience.”

“Maybe you can teach me one day,” she suggested, joking but with a touch of sincerity.

John raised an eyebrow, a shadow of humor on his face. “It’s a more tedious job than it seems, Mia.”

She laughed, tilting her head. “I’m willing to take the risk. Besides, maybe a little tedious routine would be good, don’t you think?”

He chuckled softly, a rare and warm sound that made Mia feel a slight flutter in her heart. Mia adjusted the books in her hands, her thumb absentmindedly brushing against the worn spine of the bound volume she had just handed to him. John watched her in silence, his eyes analyzing, almost as if he were assessing the safety of that brief moment of tranquility. Even without speaking, she felt the weight of his gaze and, curious, decided not to rush him, allowing him to absorb that instant.

“The cover of this one is a bit worn, but I think it’s even more beautiful that way,” she remarked, glancing at the book before looking back at John. “It seems like it has a story beyond the story, you know?”

John tilted his head slightly, holding the book with an almost reverent delicacy, as if pondering the profound meaning behind Mia’s words. “A story beyond the story,” he repeated, his voice sounding like a soft echo, more directed at himself than at her. The phrase resonated within him, evoking memories of distant times, of a life that now seemed a lost shadow.

Mia noticed the subtle change in his face, as if for a brief moment he were trying to reconnect with something he had left behind. A smile illuminated her face, for she felt that, even without needing words, she had established a small bridge between them, a connection that transcended the present moment.

Before she could formulate further thoughts or share any revelation, a familiar voice cut through the air, calling her name. It was Tom, accompanied by Lyla, who had finally arrived. Their presence brought a new energy to the environment, but Mia couldn’t shake the feeling that the moment she had shared with John still lingered between them, like an invisible, delicate thread connecting them.

She waved to her friends before turning back to John, who also seemed to have noticed their arrival. “John, feel free. I’ll be right back,” she said, tilting her head slightly and offering a soft smile.

Upon hearing the affectionate way she pronounced his name, John felt his heart palpitate with an unexpected strength in his chest, as if that simple gesture of kindness had briefly shattered the barrier he kept around himself.

After Mia’s smile, John remained in his place, his eyes vaguely following her as she moved away to greet her friends. He tried to distract himself, observing the details of the event, but it was inevitable that his gaze returned to her from time to time. There was something in the lightness of her movements, in the way she spoke with her friends, that made him think of everything he rarely allowed himself.

***

Tom leaned toward Mia, speaking softly while casting a brief glance in John’s direction.

“So, that’s the mysterious man from the bookstore, isn’t it?” he commented, a curious smile on his face.

Mia chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Yes, that’s him. He came to check out the books.”

Lyla, always with a keen eye, exchanged a smile with Mia. “And he seems to have more than just a casual interest in the bookstore, don’t you think?”

Mia shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, but her cheeks flushed slightly. “He’s just… different. I think everyone deserves a place to disconnect for a bit.”

Tom smiled, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “Sure, and maybe he’s actually found something here.”

Mia nodded affirmatively, allowing herself a quick glance at where John was, without him noticing. “Maybe. He seems like someone who could use some peace.”

John, on the other side, was trying his best to keep his attention on the surroundings, but even without directly facing her, he perceived every smile and laugh. Although he was reluctant to feel part of anything, that atmosphere—those people—had a strange effect on him.

John allowed himself to be enveloped by the warm atmosphere of the small makeshift bookstore in the park. There was something there—the scent of books, the soft laughter of people around, the gentle sound of music in the distance—that seemed to suspend time, creating a rare refuge amid the chaos of the city. The park was lively, with families, couples, and curious readers exploring the book tents scattered across the grass and surrounded by flowers and small hanging lights.

As John leafed through the book he held—a vintage edition with slightly yellowed pages—Mia approached, noticing his interest. A smile lit up her face as she recognized the title: it was one of her favorites, a classic romance she revisited whenever she could.

“This is one of my favorites,” she said softly, the enthusiasm evident in her voice. “Have you read it?”

John looked up at her, catching the sparkle in her eyes. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and thoughtful. “But it seems like a good choice.”

“It really is!” Mia said, speaking about the author and the passages that had touched her the most. John absorbed every word without seeming to, as if her description brought unexpected meaning to the volume he held. A rare impulse led him to buy it, almost without realizing it.

She guided him to a makeshift table serving as a payment station, near one of the park’s paths, decorated with small flowers and candles. As Mia organized the receipt and wrapped the book, a figure approached among the temporary shelves. An elegant man, with a contained posture and a dark suit that contrasted with the relaxed setting, stopped beside them, feigning interest in some of the displayed books.

“Good afternoon,” he said, holding a random book, his eyes fixing on Mia with a calculated smile. “I didn’t expect to find such an interesting collection in the middle of the park. It seems like a rare opportunity.”

Mia smiled, as welcoming as ever but with a hint of curiosity. “Thank you. We hope readers truly feel at home here. Can I help with anything special?”

“Perhaps,” the man replied, casting a quick, discreet glance at John before returning his attention to Mia. “Marco Vitale,” he introduced himself, with a distant but calculated courtesy. “I’m not usually one to stop at events like this, but… today I felt drawn to this collection.”

The mere mention of the name was enough to put John on high alert. Marco Vitale was a dangerous name, familiar in a way he’d rather avoid. While Marco’s presence there might have seemed coincidental, his light, casual tone didn’t fool John; this encounter felt anything but innocent. Positioned beside Mia, John observed him closely, showing no hint of discomfort, every fiber of his being prepared for any imminent threat.

Marco maintained the same courteous smile, as if John’s presence were casual. Mia, oblivious to the subtext of the conversation, thanked Marco for his purchase and handed him the book. And as she finalized the payment, John noticed that Marco’s gaze lingered on her a bit longer than necessary, before throwing a look at John that carried more than it seemed.

The idea that merely being there could have attracted Marco was a sharp reminder that, no matter how much he tried to escape, the shadows of his world followed closely behind.

Next chapter!

Tagging: @hope92100

[violetsiren90]

Under the Hunter's Moon

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; young love; autumn/harvest vibes, pure unadulterated fluff

Summary: A disappointment turns into something unexpected when Yoongi encounters you outside of your cliffside haven.

Content warnings: PG rating, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; depictions of underage smoking; allusions to divorce; school bullying; Yoongi being a scaredy cat on rides lol; mentions of eating and food; allusions to a difficult home life; cuties at a carnival 💕; brief feelings of panic; riding in the back if a truck sans safety restraints.

Word Count: ~3200

Author's note: I spent my birthday today at a little pumpkin patch by the sea. I'd been wanting to go since getting the idea for this drabble a few months back. I felt like I got to ring in the next year with them, somehow. I felt them in the salty breeze and I heard them on the crash of the waves. They are so precious to me. ❤️

If no one has told you yet today you are loved and so worthy of it! 🧜‍♀️💜

He had found you sniffling under a sprawling valley oak that had tilted its way over the aged planks and posts of the two-rail fence and stretched out toward the naked expanse of the strawberry field and the last fiery rays of the late-October sun. He and Hoseok had broken away from the pack of boys he hung around with to find a quiet nook for a smoke. When he had seen you look up at him in surprise from where your face had been buried in your drawn-up knees, nose red and cheeks stained with tears, he had shoved a cigarette into Hobi's shirt pocket and sent the freshman packing. Now Yoongi was sitting next to you in silence, his back to the trunk, stealing furtive glances at you between drags. You heaved a sigh and leaned back against the tree, your shoulder brushing his. 

"I'm okay," you murmured, drawing the back of your hand a last time over your eyes, mascara that you rarely wore smudging across your knuckles.

"Yeah?" he asked, his gaze trained over the mulched land that stretched from the tips of his Converse to where the dying light strained out to bathe his soft, porcelain features in a golden sheen. "You here with somebody?"

"I...was...I guess," you muttered despondently. "Don't really know why I ever let myself believe they would want to hang out with me. Should have just stayed home like last year."

You kept your gaze from his, your eyes instead catching the movement of his slender, athletic legs stretching out in front of him and kicking up little clouds of silt that caught here and there as they dissipated over his light-wash skinny jeans.

"What are you doing here, anyway? You hate crowds."

You felt his shoulder shrug against yours.

"It's the Fest," he remarked, "Everybody goes."

Every year on the Friday before Halloween, your high school loaded its coastal-dwelling autumnally-deprived students onto busses for a forty-five minute drive inland and into agricultural territory to attend the massive Fall Fest for which its hosting county was acclaimed. It was the highlight of the semester - more anticipated than the winter formal - and for good reason. Tickets purchased upon entry (and sold in homeroom two weeks in advance) could be traded for carnival rides and games and seasonal attractions, while a little cash could afford attendees delicious treats and festive souvenirs.

You had never really seen what all the fuss was about. But, then again, events of such a nature were infinitely more enjoyable when one had someone with which to share them - a novelty you had never been afforded until a week ago, when Miranda Dallet and another girl from her posse had asked you to sit with them at lunch. When they asked you to attend the Fest with them you had been surprised, a feeling which had given way to one much less pleasantly anticipatory when Miranda had begun asking you about your newly-divorced father's house - the one just a few miles into town from the Fest grounds, and the one he had apparently told Jacqueline Peters' mother had a hot tub and a 50-inch flat screen TV.

When your father had agreed to let the lot of you stay over at his after the big bash, the reaction of your new acquaintances had you feeling the tiniest bit proud, even if you knew you were being used...you had never really had girlfriends before. Their squeals of excitement and insistent vows that you were the best had lit a little candle in your heart you hadn't even realized existed. Its flame had grown brighter over the days that followed as you planned outfits and borrowed lip gloss and let the others style your hair. And then, half an hour ago, it had been snuffed out when your father had called to cancel last minute, and the news had seen Miranda call you a liar and a poser, thereby revoking her friendship, her crew, and the white puffer jacket she had insisted you borrow, to leave you crushed and alone beside a candy-apple cart.

Your heart sank at the prospect of recounting your pathetic tale to Yoongi...but, he never asked. He merely finished his cigarette, tossing the butt into the upturned soil, and then standing and brushing off his jeans, shoved one hand in the pocket of his bomber jacket and extended the other down to you. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. As you swiped away the smudges your tears had made of the supposedly waterproof eye makeup, you felt Yoongi's gaze drift over you. You blinked up at him questioningly.

"You look...different," he offered, shoving his other hand into its corresponding jacket pocket.

You wrapped your arms self-consciously around the bare inches of your midriff. A trip to the local mall with Miranda and company after school the previous day had resulted in the purchase of your current attire: a light-pink spaghetti-strap tank that hugged your torso, ruched sides pulling it well above the studded waistband of your snugly fitting lowrider jeans, accompanied by a pair of hoop earrings larger than you had ever worn and which were nearly as shiny as your lip gloss. Temperatures remaining in the low seventies well into the late days of fall allowed teenage girls across your county to continue their relentless pursuit of getting dress-coded in the name of Brittany Spears. At events like these, however, the chaperoning staff were wise enough to let it be, as such efforts would likely result in wasted funds and totally empty busses. You had decided to take the plunge and wear something rather decidedly out of character.

"Well," you huffed, "I couldn't come the way I usually dress..."

Yoongi's brow creased.

"What's wrong with how you dress?"

"Ah...I don't know...I just wanted to look nice, I guess."

He nodded, eyes on his shoes.

"Do I look...bad?" You asked quietly, smoothing your hands down over the denim of your pants.

Yoongi looked a bit surprised when his eyes flicked up to yours again, and then they softened as he answered.

"No...no, of course not."

You smiled gratefully and his dark eyes went wide like a baby's as he tilted his head down, glancing about as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and raised a hand to scratch behind his ear. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought he looked a bit shy. Was he shy? Something inside you preened a bit at the thought. Your bashfulness having dissipated, you moved your hands to clasp behind your back. Yoongi cocked a brow, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stripped of his jacket and held it out to you.

"Looks a little cold though," he remarked, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm fine, thank you," you huffed, feeling a bit caught, and crossed your arms in indignation.

He shrugged, still smirking, and tossed the jacket over his shoulder.

"Suit yourself," he remarked, "But it's gonna be a lot chillier when it's dark."

"I'm leaving anyway," you sulked, trudging toward the low fence and clambering over it.

"Why?" Yoongi asked quickly as he followed, nimbly vaulting the wooden structure and coming to land beside you.

"Because I got ditched. I'm not gonna wander around here alone like a loser."

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and watched him physically swallow the joke that had formulated on his tongue about it being too late for you in that regard. Instead he reached up and poked you on the cheek.

"So don't go alone. Come with me."

You blinked at him. You had never once hung out with him outside the ledge. There had been the occasional brief wave of a hand across a parking lot or small affectionate smile when passing in a hall, but never so much as a word between you when at school. It had been an unspoken mutual agreement, keeping the worlds of your lives and the ledge separate. It kept your shared hiding place a haven from the rest of it all - one that you both desperately needed. So, his proposition caught you off guard and feeling a little uncertain. Yoongi must have realized your quandary, because he draped his jacket gently around your shoulders and gave you that little hopeful raise of his brows you'd have moved mountains for, and before you knew it, he was ambling alongside you as you trotted towards the lights and laughter of the rides.

It was strange and new, being with him like this, and you began to realize that even though you could read his face like the pages of a book and stood gatekeeper to many of the secrets of his gentle, burning heart, you'd never seen the sweet little smile that cotton candy caused to bloom on his lips, or how quickly it could vanish at the prospect of riding the slingshot. This being so, you couldn't help but take him in like some lovely unknown creature as you sat beside him on the Ferriss wheel and watched him glance nervously toward the ground growing further and further below.

"You okay?" you asked in amusement, glancing at his whitened knuckles where they clutched the safety bar across his lap.

He hummed in assent, now peering down over the tips of his shoes. You followed his gaze, leaning forward and consequently causing the little bucket seat to rock as it climbed toward the peak of the structure.

"Yah, yah, yah, yah!" Yoongi hollered, eyes wide as saucers as he yanked you back upright and only succeeded in rocking your seat more violently.

You didn't understand what he said next - he had slipped into Korean - but you were laughing too hard at his terrified and exasperated expression and how he clutched your arm to pay any mind to what he had to say.

The Ferris wheel proved to be the sole ride of the evening, as Yoongi flatly refused to endure another, and you made your way into the stretch of grounds that smelled like cinnamon and grilled meats and sounded with booth attendants enticing festivalgoers to try a hand at winning their wares. You stopped to toss a few coins onto dishes, coming infuriatingly close with your third penny to winning a giant Pikachu plushie.

You then proceeded to toss and toss until you had nearly exhausted your change purse without luck - only pausing when Yoongi appeared at your elbow with a two corndogs, slipping one into your hand. You protested at him spending his money on food you knew, though simple, could not have been cheap. He ignored your indignation, however, leading you back into the bustle and sermonizing over the rigged nature of the coin-toss game.

You looked down with a small plaintive smile at the paper boat encasing the deep-fried fare in your hands. Yoongi, though sharp and driven, wasn't a good student. He had a reputation for slacking off on assignments and cutting classes that won no favors with teachers who would never know that he had been working two jobs under the table since he was thirteen. That without his help his family would likely lose their home. That he had bought his mother nearly every single earthly possession she had. That the dinner you were holding meant a hell of a lot more than just a few bucks for some carnival food.

He was still chatting on in an endearing, self-satisfied drone, eyes half-lidded and head tilted back pedantically, when you suddenly slipped your arm under his, squeezing his bicep affectionately.

"What?" he looked down at you, interrupting his own stream of thought.

You shook your head as you took a bite of your corndog and grinned up at him through full cheeks. He let out a chuckle, taking a bite of his own.

"Were you listening to anything I said?" he grumbled in lighthearted accusation over his own mouthful. 

"Of course not," you hummed, bumping his hip, and causing him to stumble beside you.

He grunted, the corner of his mouth pulling up just ever so slightly. 

"Fright walk!" you crooned, pointing at a structure decked out in campy cobwebs with a lopsided grim reaper standing wobbly attendance at the door.

"Nope," Yoongi shook his head, tugging you suddenly in the opposite direction.

"Chicken!" You whined.

"Korean. Fried." He deadpanned with a straight-lipped smile and you nearly choked on the last of your corndog as you snorted with laughter.

Yoongi grinned down at you. There it was on your pretty lips again, that smile that lit up his world like a beacon in the night. If someone had asked him if it was more important for the sun to rise in the east each day or for that smile to reach your eyes, he would have plunged the very earth into darkness every time, deny it as he might.

"Come on," Yoongi murmured.

Weaving through the booths, stray leaves crunching underfoot, he led you to a long line of festival goers queuing up to pile into the beds of big trucks loaded down snuggly with bales of hay.

You had only been in line a few minutes when you heard their voices behind you. You recognized Miranda's snicker and your stomach twisted into a knot. The brisk breeze suddenly tripping over you from behind carried with it their mirthless laughter, and you froze in place as your body and mind waged a war of priority over delaying your tears and moving your feet.

A victor was never decided.

Your swimming eyes blinked and saw him, his little smile and soft, determined eyes, as he moved in front of you, pulling up the collar of his jacket on either side of your face. He held it there, steady hands, the fabric brushing your hot ears as his eyes locked yours and silently told you to breathe, wordlessly promised it would all be alright. The sights and sounds of the festival faded and all you could hear was the soothing, rhythmic crash of the sea.

"Want to get out of here?" Yoongi asked lowly, after a long moment, gaze still holding your own.

You nodded and he took your hand.

Yoongi borrowed your cell phone to make a call and walked with you down the dirt road that opened into a rural highway from the mouth of the festival grounds. As you walked you told him about the girls. About your father's broken promise. About the not being needed, and not so not being wanted. He let you pour out and sift through your anger and hurt in the company of his gentle and receptive silence.

Half a mile's trek brought you to a tiny gas station, its aged, yellowing sign flickering to life as the sun finally yielded the dim glow of its last strains to the darkness beyond the strawberry fields.

Yoongi bought two cans of cola from a buzzing old vending machine, handing one to you as he sat beside you on the iron bench chained to the side of the building. The stars began to peep out and speckle the sky as the full moon tipped over the eastern horizon to find you, much to its surprise, quite far from your little ledge, though still side by side. It watched you curiously until its flaxen beams were joined by a pair of bobbing headlights as a truck rumbled up off the road.

"Thanks, hyung," Yoongi clapped the driver, a handsome older boy who glanced between the two of you with a sly smile, on the shoulder before gripping the edge of the bed and bracing a foot against the tire to hop into the back of the truck. He turned and held a hand out for you.

"We're riding back there?" You asked skeptically, glancing over the dusty plastic ridges of the bed.

"We never got that hayride," Yoongi said with a shrug, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you grabbed his hand and let him pull you in.

You scootched against the back of the cab, pulling your knees up to your chest. The warmth was quickly dispelling in the darkness, and cool air whipping around your body as it dipped through the bed made you shiver. Your eyes flicked to Yoongi's bare arms.

"Here, thanks for the loan..." you murmured, shrugging the jacket off and holding it toward him.

Before he could refuse to take it, your ride jostled on the unpaved road, tossing you across his lap. His arms caught you, and after a moment's hesitation, pulled you to his chest and over his right leg, fanning the jacket out over your bodies. Your back to his chest and his arms around your waist, he held you, as he had a dozen times before. A dozen times and your heart still fluttered - fluttered and then settled into safety as you settled into him.

An hour or so later, Yoongi reached up to lift you down onto the sidewalk. You didn't notice as your eyes caught his - sweeter and rounder - how his hands lingered a moment too long at your waist. The driver asked if Yoongi wanted a ride back to his place and he declined, thanking him again. The older boy said Yoongi owed him a fishing trip and Yoongi chuckled, waving him off as the truck rolled down the street.

Your house was dark, and Yoongi walked you to the front door, hands stuffed in his pockets. You turned the key in the lock, and then you turned to him.
You took him in as he looked down at you, his pretty, soft features concealing none of his affection. He swallowed, shifting on his feet.

"What?" he asked.

"Thank you," you murmured earnestly.

"For what...?" and he began to scoff gently, but your answer came too quickly and sincerely for him to protest.

"For tonight. For every night," you sighed a little breath full of aching gratitude. "For being my friend."

His lovely dark eyes widened and his lips parted and suddenly you found yourself raising up on your tip toes to press your mouth to his cheek.

You did it before you could stop yourself and you turned before you could look at him, and you slipped into the quiet house, closing the door behind you just a bit too quickly - so that he wouldn't see, so that your eyes wouldn't give you away.

In doing so, you had missed it.

But the yellow hunter's moon gazing fondly down through the dark, wispy clouds had seen.

It had watched you kiss the boy's cheek. It had watched you hurriedly take your leave. And while you sighed wistfully on the other side of the door, it had watched the boy raise his hand to touch his face, walk back down to the street, and quietly lose the battle he had been fighting all night - every night, in fact, since that first on the cliffside. 

It had watched him fall in love with you.

-Fin-

[poisonousquinzel]

In honor of the Deadpool 3 talk going around, be aware that the director Shawn Levy is a Zionist who supports Noah Schnapp, with Ryan Reynold's support.

Caption: These are just a few images of the hundreds that compel me to speak up: More than 1000 dead, over 150 kidnapped , others raped, wounded, brutalized .

Children, teens, women, and the elderly...

This terrorist act has and CAN have NO justification, no 'context' that can explain or forgive .

To be clear: this was perpetrated by Hamas-- a terrorist organization that does not seek peace, nor democracy , nor a 2-state coexistence for the Palestinian and Israeli people; they want the elimination of Israel, the eradication of the Jewish people, and what they did in Israel should outrage anyone with basic human principles. You can care about the struggles of the Palestinians and still condemn Hamas as the barbaric terrorists they clearly show themselves to be. Honestly baffled that there's even any debate about this .

You don't need to be Jewish to stand with these innocent victims and hostages. You don't need to be Jewish to be heartsick, outraged and stand against this terror; you just need to be a human being with eyes and ears and heart.

Oct 10, 2023

And yeah, unsurprisingly, he's posted jackshit in regards to the proven lies that were and are spread about the events of Oct 7, or about the propaganda he helped spread, or about how Israel killed it's own people on Oct 7, or how they have repeatedly had chances to get the hostages back (including this month as well!!) and refuse because this has never been about the hostages, or how they've repeatedly lied about Hamas bases and operatives to try n justify bombing hospitals & schools, or how Israel has committed dozens of war crimes over and over, or how there's plenty of recorded proof of IDF / IOF soldiers beating up and assaulting Jewish people who disagree with them, or the videos of Israeli settlers harassing others in their circle for having empathy for Palestinians, screaming obscenities and insults at teachers for having empathy for other humans, or the thousands of Jewish people who stand with Palestine and have been this whole time, or the heinous racist shit Noah Schnapp has spewed lately, or how the IDF / IOF is known for having a problem with soldiers sexually assaulting each other, or how Israel is a safe haven for pedophiles (ya know, rapists), or about the little girl who was stuck in a car with her dead relatives until she was also murdered by Israel (alongside the medical workers who had gone to recuse her), or about the videos of the Israeli military using bulldozers to run over people in tents, to run over a pregnant woman, to run over refugees, or about the family members who've had to carry the pieces of their loves ones in bags because they were blown to pieces by the bombs set off by the Israeli military, or about how they're actively starving every Palestinian person they can and refusing to allow aid into Gaza, or how Israeli folks are actively driving out in droves to physically prevent aid trucks from passing to get to a starving population, or how it's been a tradition for Israeli settlers to go to the edge near Gaza to listen and Celebrate bombings long before Oct 7, or the countless pieces of irreplaceable historical landmarks have been destroyed, or the over 30,000 Palestinians who've been murdered in cold blood since Oct 7 while Zionist cheer on the violence.

Marvel supports Israel, actively, don't let your love for that specific series cloud that.

[lowkeycasanova]

Idk if your requests are open if not respond to the Privately but So idk if you actually feel comfortable writing for Luffy I am looki for one piece x reader writers who have the requests open and came across you anyway I request takes place after the time skip where reading I ask Luffy if next year they can celebrate Ace with Luffy aka next year on the day of his death instead of feeling sad they want me make sure Luffy is happy so they will spend the entire day doing things would love like eating us favorite foods and doing things he would love

A Day For Him

The sun was setting over the Thousand Sunny, casting a warm, golden glow over the deck. The rest of the crew started heading inside while Luffy stood at the helm, staring at the horizon. His straw hat cast a shadow over his eyes but you could still see his fixed gaze. It's been a year since the crew reunited and tomorrow will be three years since Ace died. Luffy had come to terms with his death, but the pain still lingered.

From a distance, you watched. Your heart aching for him. When you had first heard the news of the events at Marineford, the only thing you wanted to do was to be by his side. You'd seen Luffy smile, laugh, and fight with unyielding determination, but you also knew the quiet moments when the weight of his loss pressed heavily on his shoulders. You then took a deep breath and resolved to make tomorrow a day filled with joy and love, and where Luffy could remember Ace without the shadow of sorrow.

As the first light of dawn broke, not a single cloud marred the sky. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm and inviting glow over the calm sea.

"Land, ho!" Nami's voice rang out, breaking the serene morning silence. She pointed to a lush, vibrant island on the horizon. You all gathered around, excited by the prospect of a new adventure.

When the ship docked, everyone disembarked with eager anticipation. The island was a paradise of beautiful flowers, towering trees, crystal clear streams, and a vibrant village. Luffy led the way with a wide, genuine, smile on his face that made your heart soar.

The crew split up, each member heading off to explore their own interests. As you wandered through the bustling city, the air was filled with different scents. Luffy's eyes sparkled with excitement as he didn't know where to look first.

After a while of being on your own, you went looking for your crew mates.

"Oi, look at this!" Luffy shouted, his mouth full of some fruit he had stuffed in there.

Didn't take long to find him at all.

He dashed from vendor to vendor, barely pausing to chew before sampling the next delicacy. His as appetite insatiable as ever.

"Don't eat the whole thing in one bite Luffy!" Usopp reprimanded.

"Yeah, save some for us!" Nami chided, although her tone was more playful. This time.

As the day wore on, the crew reconvened at a local bar. Zoro had already been there, as you saw the empty sake bottles in front of him. Nami arrived with an armful of shopping bags, eyes glinting with satisfaction. Luffy, of course, dived into his food head first. You founds yourself caught up in the camaraderie. It felt good not to worry about enemies and just have fun. Plus, the pain of the past was momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the present.

When the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, you all made your way back to the Thousand Sunny. Anchored near the shore, the ship felt like a safe haven, a place where you could relax and simply be together. The deck filled with laughter and the smell of Sanji's cooking.

Luffy, surrounded by his nakama, felt a sense of peace. The words, "I still have my crew" rang in his mind. But y'all weren't just his crew, but his family. And today, was a celebration of the man who had meant so much to him.

You took a moment to admire your captain.

He sat cross-legged, his hat tipped back as he gazed up at the stars beginning to dot the sky. You joined him, sitting quietly by his side. The silence was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that today had been a good day. The stars seemed to shine a little brighter that night and you know that Ace's flame would never truly be extinguished.

[nameless-ken]

Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series

(Please reblog!!!)

Happy reading! Comment below to be added to taglist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: attempted SA (sexual assault, Please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable!!), cursing, angst (what's new lol) but also some fluff

Introduction | Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six

Masterlist

(song for this chapter <3)

As you huddle in the warmth of your cozy home, the chill of Thanksgiving break seeping through the windows, you absentmindedly wrap yourself tighter in your favorite blanket. The silence around you is palpable, the absence of familial chatter of Robin and the broodiness of Billy, a stark reminder of your solitude. Amidst it, a gentle knock on the door stirs you from your warmth.

Surprised, you rise from your spot on the couch, padding softly to the door. Your curiosity piqued, you swing it open to reveal a delivery person, holding a box adorned with a ribbon and a note. Confusion clouds your features momentarily until you notice the handwriting on the note—Robin's unmistakable scrawl.

The realization that you forgot your own birthday feels like a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, a fact that had momentarily slipped your mind in the whirlwind of the events that happened recently. A grin spreads across your face as you thank the delivery person, shutting your door and settling back onto the couch. You carefully untie the ribbon and open the box to reveal a dozen delectable cupcakes, each one a miniature work of art.

As you read Robin's note, you can’t help but miss her more. She may be miles away visiting family, but her thoughtful gesture bridges the distance, promising a girl's night upon her return. With newfound anticipation, you grab one of the cupcakes, placing the rest on the coffee table, the sweetness lifting your spirits. 

As you sit there, surrounded by the aroma of freshly baked cupcakes, memories of birthdays past flood your mind like a cherished photo album. You recall the joyful chaos of childhood parties, the house brimming with laughter and the sound of wrapping paper being torn apart in excitement. Each year, your mom made sure your birthday was a day to remember, despite the holiday overlap every seven years. Her creativity knew no bounds, and she had a knack for making you feel like the most special little girl in the world.

A pang of longing tugs at your heartstrings as you wish, not for the first time, that she were here with you now. Perhaps your sister would surprise you with a visit, or your dad would remember and transform the house into a haven of celebration once more. You yearn for the warmth that used to permeate every corner of your home, for the simple joy of being surrounded by loved ones.

You long to reach out to Billy, to hear his comforting voice and feel the warmth of his presence, even if it's just over the phone. You know he's at home, probably looking after Max, just as he always does. But a barrier, of your own making, stands between you.

You've locked him out, shutting him off from your world, from the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that churn within you. Despite his efforts to reach out, his notes and attempts at communication remain unanswered, like prayers whispered into the void. Each morning that last three weeks, you found his messages waiting for you, tucked away in your locker, pleading for a response that you couldn’t bring yourself to give.

Even his calls to your home go unanswered, the phone ringing in the empty silence of your home as you sit in paralyzed stillness, unable to break free from the walls you've built around yourself. The thought of being vulnerable with him again, of exposing the raw truth of your feelings, fills you with a potent mixture of fear and longing.

As you stand in the kitchen, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans providing a semblance of normalcy, the sound of the front door opening interrupts your thoughts. Your dad's arrival is accompanied by the heavy footsteps of his friend, John, a familiar presence that fills you with a sense of unease.

John's visits are a regular occurrence, and while you've grown accustomed to his company over time, there's always been an underlying discomfort that lingers there. His leering gaze and inappropriate comments never fail to send shivers down your spine, and you've learned to keep your distance whenever he's around.

With a resigned sigh, you continue preparing dinner, keeping your focus trained on the task at hand as your dad and John settle into the living room. The muffled sounds of their conversation drift through the walls, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clinking of beer bottles.

You retreat to the safety of your room, barricading yourself behind closed doors to drown out the noise of their revelry and trying to remember the times when your dad didn’t forget your birthday.

The next morning arrives with a deceptive calmness, the remnants of yesterday’s solemn fading into the background as you tentatively step into the kitchen to make breakfast. The stale scent of alcohol lingers in the air. You assume both your dad and John have left, their presence no longer weighing heavily on the atmosphere.

As you begin to prepare breakfast, your fingers moving through the motions of routine, your heart skips a beat when John's voice cuts through the silence. Startled, you turn to find him lingering in the corner of the kitchen, his presence like a dark shadow cast over the room.

“Your dad went to pick up coffee. It’s out.” He points to the empty coffee pot in your hand. 

“Thanks.” You say politely, even though your instincts are screaming at you to keep your guard up.

Your muscles tense as John inches closer, his predatory gaze roving over you in a way that makes your skin crawl. 

“I’ve never seen a woman wake up looking so beautiful.” A knot forms in the pit of your stomach as he begins to shower you with compliments, his words dripping with insincerity. 

“I have a boyfriend.” The false mention of a boyfriend falls from your lips like a feeble shield, but it's futile against his relentless advance.

Ignoring your attempt to establish boundaries, John leans in closer, invading your personal space. His breath, stale with the scent of cigarettes and alcohol, sends a shiver down your spine.

“Does he make you feel as desired as I could?” His voice is low, dripping with a mixture of arrogance and lust. He pins you against the counter. Panic rises within you as his hands close in, his touch sending waves of revulsion coursing through your body. 

“Stop, please.” You recoil from his foul breath, his vulgar words twisting like knives in your ears.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he coaxes, his grip tightening slightly.

“I said no,” you say, your tone firm and resolute. There’s a flicker of something dark in John’s eyes, a flash of anger that sends a chill down your spine. 

Your attempts to push him away are futile as he overpowers you, his grip like iron as he twists your arms and bends you over the counter. The weight of his body presses against you, suffocating you with its presence. Fear and desperation grip you in equal measure as you struggle against his advances, you shout but he covers your mouth with one hand. 

“Screaming won’t help you, sweetie. I actually like that.” 

Summoning every ounce of strength you possess, you lash out with a ferocity born of desperation, delivering a swift and decisive blow that catches him off guard. His grip falters, giving you the opening you need to break free.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you flee from the suffocating confines of the kitchen, your feet pounding against the floor as you race towards the door. Tears blur your vision as you stumble into the unforgiving embrace of the outside world, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

You slow your pace as you put distance between yourself and the nightmare that still haunts you, the weight of what just transpired settling heavily upon your shoulders. Collapsing to the ground, your body racked with sobs, you allow yourself a moment of vulnerability, the tears flowing freely as you confront the harrowing reality of what just occurred.

But even in the depths of despair, a glimmer of determination flickers within you. With trembling hands and a heart heavy with sorrow, you rise to your feet, drawing upon a reservoir of strength you didn't know you possessed. There's only one person you can turn to now, one beacon of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume you whole. And so, with tear-stained cheeks and a resolve born of desperation, you set off towards the one place where you know you'll find solace, the one person you miss more than anything in this world.

You notice Billy's dad's car parked in the driveway, signaling his presence in the house. With a mixture of relief and desperation, you carefully approach his bedroom window, your heart pounding in your chest. Peering inside, you catch sight of Billy, reclining on his bed with a magazine in hand, seemingly lost in thought.

A soft tap on the glass draws his attention, his gaze snapping to the window before settling on you. Without hesitation, he rises from his bed, a look of concern etched across his features as he lifts the glass pane, inviting you inside.

"Y/N, what's happened?" His voice is laced with worry as he takes in your disheveled appearance, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"Can I come in?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, your throat tight with emotion. Billy extends his hand, offering you support as you clamber over the window sill, his touch grounding you in the moment.

You stand before him, trembling with a mixture of fear and relief, unwilling to let go of him as if he's your lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. His gentle hands cup your face, his touch warm against your skin as he guides you closer.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he murmurs, his breath stirring the strands of hair that cling to your tear-stained cheeks. "Come here, you're freezing." With a tender gesture, he leads you to his bed, his comforting presence a source of solace in the midst of turmoil.

As he helps you into one of his sweaters, the fabric enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth, you instinctively lean into him, seeking refuge in his embrace. His steady heartbeat echoes in your ears as you bury your head against his chest, finding comfort in the rhythmic cadence of his breathing.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper against your ear. With a shaky breath, you gather the courage to voice the horrors that still haunt you, the words tumbling from your lips in a torrent of pain and fear.

"One of my dad's friends stayed over last night," you begin, your voice trembling with emotion. "H-He was still there this morning. My dad was g-gone and he tried...he tried to..." Your voice falters as tears stream down your face once more, the memory too painful to bear.

"I'll kill him," Billy's voice is a low growl, his body stiffening beneath you as anger courses through his veins. You meet his gaze, seeing the fierce determination in his eyes, the silent promise of protection that he offers without hesitation.

You hold onto Billy tighter, his warmth and protective embrace providing you comfort. 

"Billy, please," your voice trembles with fear and vulnerability. "I don't want you to do anything. I just needed to be here, with you."

He takes a deep breath, his grip on you softening slightly as he tries to reign in his emotions. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I just... I hate seeing you hurt like this."

“Is it okay if I stay? Will your dad get mad?” You slip your small, cold hand into his large, warm one, warmth spread through your fingers at his touch.

Billy's eyes soften as he looks at you, his heart breaking at the thought of you enduring such pain. He squeezes your hand gently, offering you a reassuring smile despite the turmoil raging inside him.

"Of course, you can stay," he says tenderly. “I’ll deal with my dad if he finds out.” 

Relief washes over you like a gentle wave as you settle against him, enveloped in the warmth of his embrace. His words offer solace, a reassurance that you're not alone in this tumultuous moment.

"Thank you, B," you whisper, glancing up at him. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Billy tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"Thank you for coming to me," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.

"I've missed you," you confess, the weight of unspoken words finally finding a voice. "I'm sorry for ignoring you. It was-"

"Don't apologize," Billy interrupts, his expression softening with understanding. "I understand why you did. I'm sorry for being such an asshole and ruining what we have between us. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore. I just want to make this right, with you."

"Billy, I've only ever felt such hurt once in my life, and that was when my mom died," you admit, vulnerability coloring your words. "I've never loved anyone else more besides my mom until you came along."

Billy's eyes widen at your confession, his own emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“I’m sorry if that’s weird for you but I’ve been feeling this for a while now and I just can’t hold it in anymore. You make me feel safe and-”

Before you can finish your sentence, Billy's lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a firestorm of emotions within you. You find yourself instinctively moving closer on his lap, your hands tangling in his hair and his hands taking place on your hips. When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Billy's gaze holds a mixture of adoration and desire.

"Don't hide your face, little mouse," he whispers, his thumb tracing your cheek gently. 

"You make me flustered." You laugh softly, the tension melting away as Billy kisses you through those words and mumble against your lips.

"You fluster me more, sweetheart." He trails kisses against your neck. “You take up a part of my heart that no one else will ever fill.” 

You shiver at the sensation of his lips on your skin, feeling every word he speaks reverberate through your body. It's as if each touch is etching his declaration into your very soul.

"I never knew love could feel like this," you murmur, your fingers tracing patterns along the back of his neck as you nestle closer to him, wanting to memorize every contour of his body.

Billy's arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer until there's no space left between you. "Me neither," he admits, his voice husky with emotion. "But I'm glad we found it together."

In that moment, you realize that despite the pain and hardships you've faced, love has a way of healing even the deepest wounds. And as you melt into each other's embrace, you know that this love will carry you through.

When morning comes, you wake to the soft light filtering through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. Stretching lazily, you turn to find Billy still asleep beside you, his features relaxed in the gentle embrace of sleep.

With a tender smile, you brush a strand of hair away from his face, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The events of the previous night still linger in your mind, you shake the nauseous feeling rising in your throat as you cuddle closer to Billy. 

"Morning," Billy's hoarse voice breaks the silence of the morning, and you lift your head from his chest, a smile lighting up your face as you meet his gaze.

"Morning," you mumble softly, the warmth of his sleepy eyes soothing your soul. 

“That was probably one of the best sleeps I’ve had in a long time.” A yawn escapes Billy as he stretches, his muscles flexing beneath the sheets. 

“For me too. I’d love to stay here with you all day but I don’t think your dad would approve.” You joke, sitting up slightly, staring down at him. 

“You’re so pretty.” He speaks before he even realizes what he said. You can’t help the smile that takes over your lips. 

“I could say the same about you.” You whisper, pressing a kiss against his lips, melting into his warmth again. 

Billy deepens the kiss, pulling you closer underneath his blanket. Your heartbeat fills the silence of his bedroom as you continue making out until you hear a door close down the hall. 

“I should get going.” You pull away, breathless. 

"Let me make an appearance for my dad to see, and I'll meet you out front," Billy offers, rising from the bed and holding his hand out to you. You take it, standing tall as he pulls you into a warm embrace, showering you with more kisses. 

He helps you out his window and you quietly make your way around to the front of the house, the morning air crisp and refreshing. Billy's sleek sports car sits waiting, and you slide into the passenger seat, shutting the door with a soft click.

As Billy rushes out of the front door, keys jingling in his hand. He smiles as he notices you in the car, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. With a smooth maneuver, he backs out of the driveway, the familiar rumble of the engine a comforting sound.

"Can we stop at my place? I really need to change my clothes," you can't help but feel a surge of nerves at the thought of going back to your own place. But with Billy by your side, the fear eases, replaced by a sense of reassurance.

“Sure but if that asshole is there, I can’t promise what I’ll do.” Billy lights a cigarette, rolling down his window so the smoke doesn’t get trapped in since he knows you hate when he smokes. 

Billy pulls into your drive and you swallow the lump in your throat but it settles since the driveway is clear of any other cars. Billy grabs your hand as you make your way to the front door, keeping you close to him. 

As you unlock and open the door, silence is all you hear from inside.

“Noone’s here.” You inform Billy, hurriedly going to your bedroom to change. 

“What’s up with the full box of cupcakes?” Billy questions as you walk back out to the living room. 

“Oh, those were from Robin,” you pause, remembering your birthday. “She sent them to me for my birthday since she’s out of town.” 

“It’s your birthday?” Billy looks at you concerned. 

“Two days ago.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t know.” He walks over, capturing you in a hug, kissing the top of your head. 

“Not your fault. I don’t think I ever told you, so no need to apologize.” You step back and grab his hand, pulling him out the front door again. 

“Now, please, let’s get some food. I’m starving!” Billy revs his Camaro and speeds off fast.

As you arrive at the restaurant where you work and are greeted warmly by Mary.

"Hello there, darling! Belated birthday wishes to you!" Mary exclaims, enveloping you in a hug as she leads you and Billy towards a cozy booth.

"Thank you, Mary," you reply with a genuine smile, taking a seat while Billy settles in beside you.

"And who might this handsome fellow be?" Mary raises an eyebrow with an amused expression. 

"This is Billy, my..." you start to say.

"Boyfriend, ma'am," Billy interjects, extending his hand to shake Mary's.

"Well, isn't that lovely," Mary chuckles softly. "Just know, Billy, if you ever hurt her, I'll have to come after you." She adds the threat in a playful tone.

"No worries, ma'am. I'll make sure she's safe," Billy assures with a glance at you, eliciting a smile and a flutter in your stomach as his hand gently squeezes your thigh.

"Excellent! Now, what can I get you two? It's on the house," Mary offers.

You place your orders and settle against the booth. You rest your head against Billy’s shoulder as he grabs the ashtray on the table, lighting another cigarette. You can tell by the way he’s fidgeting and biting at his lip, that something is bothering him. 

"Is everything alright?" you whisper.

He looks down at you, his eyes searching. "Can you tell me the guy's name?" he asks quietly.

You sigh, relenting. "John Bellmore. He works at the steel factory where my dad used to work."

Billy nods, taking a drag from his cigarette. "I understand what you're feeling, but promise me you won't do anything reckless," you plead.

Billy takes a moment to exhale a puff of smoke before meeting your gaze with a determined look. "I can’t promise that but I will promise to keep you safe," he says solemnly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You nod but are still worried about what might happen if Billy confronts John. The tension in the air feels palpable as you both sit in silence, lost in your own thoughts.

Mary returns with your orders, breaking the heavy atmosphere with her cheerful demeanor. "Here you go, dears. Enjoy your meal," she says, placing the plates on the table with a smile.

"Thank you, Mary," you say, mustering a smile despite the unease lingering in your mind.

As Mary walks away, you turn back to Billy, noticing the intensity in his eyes as he stares off into the distance. "Promise me you won't do anything rash," you repeat, hoping to ease the tension between you.

"I won't let anyone hurt you." Billy reassures you again, his voice softening as he reaches over, hand resting on your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. “I will do everything in my power to not let anyone hurt you in any way ever again. Please just take that as my promise.”

You nod, grateful for his protectiveness but also worried about the consequences it might bring. Deep down, you know that confronting John could escalate the situation, but you also can't shake the fear of it happening again.

You finish dinner, thanking Mary again, before heading out of the restaurant. 

“How about I make it up to you for not knowing it was your birthday and take you to get some ice cream?” Billy opens the passenger door for you, helping you in. 

"Now that's the way to win me over. You're catching on, Hargrove," you playfully tease as he settles into the driver's seat.

Billy chuckles as he starts the car, glancing over at you with a playful smirk. "There’s more to come," he winks, before pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards the nearest ice cream shop.

Hawkins High bustles with the excited chatter of students sharing tales of their holiday break. You enter, feeling a knot of nerves in your stomach, uncertain how Billy will act around you after referring to himself as your boyfriend.

“Y/N!” Suddenly, Robin crashes into you with a hug, nearly sending you tumbling.

“Robin! I've missed you,” you exclaim, returning the embrace, a smile instantly lighting up your face.

“I can’t believe my parents made me miss your birthday this year. I feel terrible,” Robin says as you both walk together towards her locker.

“It's okay, really. And thanks again for the cupcakes. They were amazing!” you reply gratefully.

“We're still on for our girls' night tonight, right? I hope you didn’t forget,” Robin reminds you.

“Actually, I have something to tell you,” you begin, but before you can finish, Billy appears, casually draping his arm around your waist and leaning his chin on your shoulder. “Hey there, little mouse,” he says in a teasing tone.

"OMG! There’s no way!" Robin gasps, her eyes widening in disbelief.

You exchange a sheepish glance with Robin, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. Billy's sudden display of affection catches you off guard, and you struggle to find the right words to explain the situation.

"Uh, yeah, um..." You stammer, unsure how to address Robin's obvious surprise.

Billy chuckles softly, giving you a reassuring squeeze before addressing Robin with a smirk. "Surprise, surprise," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

"I thought we despised him?" Robin crosses her arms, recalling the fallout from the incident involving him and Heather.

"Listen," Billy straightens up, his hand still gently resting on your waist as he addresses Robin directly. "I know I messed up big time with our friend, but I swear I'll never hurt her again."

Robin's gaze shifts between the two of you, seeking reassurance in your eyes. You offer a small smile and a nod, silently confirming Billy's words. Robin sighs, a sense of resignation washing over her.

"Fine, but just know that if you ever break that promise, I won't hesitate to kick your ass," she warns, her tone firm but laced with a hint of underlying concern.

The bell for first period rings and you say goodbye to Robin as she walks in the opposite direction. You can’t help but glance around at all the eyes on you as Billy hasn’t removed his hands from you, sliding his hand in the back pocket of your jeans. 

“Don’t mind them, little mouse.” He moves plants a kiss to your head, smirking as the various students whisper and gasp.

“What’s up Hargrove?” Tommy and Carol intercept your path before you make it to class. “Slumming it now?” 

You shoot a withering glare at Tommy and Carol, but Billy steps forward, his posture exuding confidence.

"Watch your mouth, Tommy," Billy warns, his voice low and threatening. "Or you'll regret it."

Tommy scoffs, but Carol pulls at his arm, urging him to back down. "Come on, Tommy, let's not start anything."

“I’m so tired of that shithead.” Billy lets out a frustrated sigh as he guides you towards your first class.

“Why do you put up with them anyway?” 

“They were just there. Never really thought about who I hang with until you came along.” Billy reflects, pausing by the classroom door.

“Now you’re stuck with me.” You smile jokingly. 

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Billy leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. The hallway fades into the background as his touch ignites a warmth within you. Without hesitation, you close the distance, meeting his lips in a tender kiss.

For a moment, everything else melts away—the whispers, the stares, the drama of Hawkins High. It's just you and Billy, lost in the sweet embrace of each other's lips.

“I don’t want anything else.” Billy says as you pull away, a soft smile dances on his lips, his gaze fixed on you with a newfound fondness. “I’ll see you later, little mouse.” 

You detach, unwillingly heading into the classroom with every pair of eyes practically burning holes into you but all you can do is smile the whole way to your seat. 

Taglist:@msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @ghostcastaway @missingbillyhargrove @lotionlamp @billys-pretty-babe @isimpfortoomanypeople @rosey96 @girlwifteef @miheartsedthings @empathyroad @notzoey @iletmytittiestitty-russ @the-ch0sen-on3 @coral021 @fossface @vicurious28

[stargirlfics]

sneak peek!

The Gentleman Chapter 7: This Heart of Mine

Hey lovely people! I am still working on a big chunk of this chapter but wanted to give y’all a little peek at some of it because why not and I have sooo missed writing for this series so it’s been neat to dive back into it 🫶🏾 hope you’ll enjoy this next one, it’s one of my favorite chapters so far!

Alfred lay awake, a soft but worried concentration set on his face as he watched you sleep curled next to him in the haven of your bed.

Flashes of Scarecrow cross his mind, then of losing you in the street and having to leave you alone at The Tower, the anxiety as he searched for Bruce, it all crept in with the quiet of night.

You looked like an angel wrapped in his sweater so he focused on how glad he was you were finally asleep, the exhaustion of the day’s events had caught up now and he only hoped the release he’d given you tonight helped ease the sting of danger and chaos that occurred not even twelve hours ago. 

He knew it was wishful thinking, barely able to sleep himself, heart wrenched when he dozed off some time later and startled awake to find you out of bed, only guided by the soft glow of your bathroom lights that illuminated where you sat crying and curled in on yourself at the edge of the tub. 

Immediately he was at your side, hushing your apologies for the state he’d found you in, hoping the way he gently took your wrists in his hands would bring warmth or relief, anything at all to quell what he could only imagine you were feeling. 

Oh, my darling. 

It hurt to see you distraught.

The panic in your features made him feel sick but he kept the dread from showing as best he could, not wishing for you to see how quickly it was hardening into rage as he cradled your sobbing form against his chest and reassured you that you were okay, because he was here and the night terror still lingering behind your eyes wasn’t real. 

“You’re alright, just keep taking breaths with me, yeah? You’re at home, it’s safe here and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

The last few words slide off his lips in a quiet promise, one made with a clenched jaw and an icy conviction going straight down to his bones just as steady as the snow falling outside, the kind he hadn’t felt since those early days caring for Bruce on his own.  

Alfred didn’t let his mind drift too far into that territory yet knowing he needed to think, to come up with a plan. 

Christ, there was far too much ground to cover with so little information still, a ripple of stress threatened to cloud his mind but he needed to focus on you right now. 

It hadn’t taken very long to realize he needed to make sure you were okay in order to be okay himself, to calm down and think properly. 

Helping you get back in bed and snuggled in his arms again had worked to soothe some tension despite the pit in his stomach as he watched you blink away tears while your fingers curled around his and it isn’t lost on him that you had sought his comfort. 

“I’m almost scared to sleep again, what if I have another bad dream?” Your voice is tired, weary and it sends another pang through his heart.

“If you do I’ll be right here to shoo it away but you do need rest, lovely. How about I tell you a story to help you sleep?” He’s pleased when your eyes perk up at the suggestion, you have told him before that he could tell the best stories. 

Maybe he’d go for an old favorite, the one about finding what he thought to be old treasure on a trip he took to the English coast, a place he wants to show you one day if he could get you both through this madness safely. 

But even as he began to speak and you tucked your face into his shoulder he knew there was no other option for him now, it wasn’t an if but an outright certainty that he would do whatever was necessary to keep you from harm.

There may or may not be lots of emotions in this chapter so 🥹🤭 I’m really excited! This was only about 600 words or so of a sneak peek but I hope that’s okay because there’s a lottt more coming and I hope to be finished with this chapter completely by next month, so thanks for all the love and patience as I work on it. It’s really appreciated and I feel more excitement and anticipation than nerves or fear about delivering on chapters going forward even if I do take my time 💕 Thank you all!

<3 dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

[pilot-boi]

Pilot AUs Masterlist

Ever wondered what the fuck all my AUs are about? Well wonder no longer!

This is a list of all of my AUs (so far), or at least all of the ones I could find. They all have summaries and most have links to where fics have been posted, or to the tag on Tumblr where all the posts are about it

I will keep updating this as more AUs happen, because I am sure more AUs will happen. Also, I can’t tag all of the AUs in this post, there are literally too many

(List under the cut)

MIA

The Original AU

Jaune gets kidnapped and beat the fuck up for information

Literally just whump the entire time

BNHA

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in the place of BNHA characters

Fullmetal

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in the place of FMAB characters

Tour Group

RNJR + Qrow get lost on their way to Mistral and basically just fuck around on vaction

Very bad fashion from Jaune

VERY cracky

Sun, Neptune, and Ilia end up coming along with the plot when RNJR don’t show up

The whole plot still happens, it’s just treated VERY much for comedy

Paperwork

If Roman was told to go to hell he simply wouldn’t

After the boy dies he goes to heaven because nobody was paying attention and he snuck through the door with all the other fucking million people who died the night of the Fall

Hangs out with Summer, Pyrrha, and sometimes Penny and they watch the plot through the clouds

Stranger Things

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in Stranger Things

Not a straight up character replacement, actual different plots because of the different personalities

Mistral

Everyone gets to Mistral, fights at Haven, and they go no further

Buy a house and all live together while doing missions and being domestic

Jaune gets his ass kicked every other week

That’s it, that’s the plot

Army Birds

Have you ever wished Qrow Branwen could date Maes Hughes from FMAB?

Mistral AU offshoot

After the phone booth Maes is isekai’d into RWBY and is found by Qrow and Jaune

Qrow because ship, Jaune because holy shit gunshot wounds

It’s like Fairgame but if Clover wasn’t a fucking narc

Coffee Shop/College

Your classic coffee shop AU combined with a classic college AU

All the kiddos are sophomores/juniors at Beacon University

Shipping and shenanigans ensue

Seamonkeys are the coffee shop ship, but Jaune also works there

Heartwood

An AU based on a ship that HarmonyLight and I came up with between JNR+Marrow

Diverges about halfway through Volume 8 as it hadn’t finished when we came up with it

Whale dies, but who knows after that

They ride a boat to Vacuo

Daemon

What it says on the tin

They’ve all got daemons but the plot is the same

Twice the characters, twice the pain

Percy Jackson

What it says on the tin

The kids but if they were in Percy Jackson

Not a straight up character replacement

Different characters take different places as necessary for the plot

Godly parents are all different

Hanahaki

Pyrrha is really pining in this one y’all

Oof oof ouch angst she’s choking on roses for the boy

Space

Very Firefly inspired space AU with JNPR as a crew of a ship

RWBY are crew of another ship

Political nonsense and spaceship fights galore

Soulmate

Platonic and romantic and all those in between

When you get hurt, your soulmate blooms flowers in the same place

Vibrancy and size of the flowers depends on the severity of the injury

Canon events are the same

Time Travel

Oscar gets sent back in time for fix-it purposes, but not as far as you’d think

Timeline diverges during the finale of V7, when ALPN end up in the vault during the Maiden nonsense

Some doomed timeline shit happens and literally EVERYONE dies before Oscar and Jaune’s eyes

Oscar unlocks his semblance (time travel whoopee) and Jaune boosts him so he can go back and F1X TH1S

Blooming

AKA, Pyrrha lives because I miss her

Through the power of Arkos and Jaune being a soft boy who keeps giving his maybe girlfriend flowers, the girl lives and the world is saved

90% Beacon era with a VERY short epilogue

5+1 Style

Modelling

Baby’s first RWBY fic courtesy of inspiration from the OG Jaune server

Arkos are both models and both idiots

Pining, fake dating, and lots of fluff ensue

Daycare

ALMOST everyone except Weiss, Jaune, Pyrrha, and Ilia are 8-years-old or younger

Modern/realistic AU

Weiss owns a daycare center that watches all these kids, Arkos are her employees

90% fluff

10% the inevitable angst of some of the characters being orphans

Les Miserables

What it says on the tin

I wrote down like seven pages of notes without stopping to drink water

Sort of character replacement AU but with subtle things changed for to make sense

Major Character Death

Duh

Qrow Fucks Up

Least thought through honestly

Canon but if everything boiled down to being somehow because of Qrow’s bad luck

VERY cracky

LOTR

What it says on the tin

Character replacement AU but with some MAJOR things changed for to make sense

Plot is the same, but how they get there might not always be

Flying Monkeys

Sun gets kidnapped by Salem for Grimm body part experiments and all he gets are wings and a boat load of trauma

Finally one not about Jaune

Oops looks like Sun got fuckin tortured for months all so I could make a dumb pun oops

The only one of these with a whole comic done about it

WAY more stuff in my head than necessary

Fallen Angel

Jaune and MOST of the baddies are kidnapped as children and experimented on by Salem as she tries to make them into angels and become a god

Less complicated than it sounds

User/Reader influenced

Modern AU of Remnant, timeline diverges after the gods leave

Magic is taken away and EVERYONE is made into part animal part humans

Nobody is bird though, and they’re more animal than Faunus

The gang literally fistfights “god”

Wings

Canon but if everyone had bird wings

Way more lore than necessary

The plot is the same, HarmonyLight and I just did a hell of worldbuilding

CatsVDogs

V9 AU where Jaune and the Curious Cat get into a relationship during his time trapped and it’s all downhill from there

CC is hella abusive, Jaune gets hella traumatized, it’s a bad time

Jaune’s shadow is sorta sentient

CC is a twinky tumblr sexyman catboy

Jaune gets possessed by CC instead of Neo, but he gets better

Voices

After the Fall Jaune starts being able to hear voices of dead people

Mostly can hear Huntsmen because they’re Auras are stronger

Mostly thinks he’s going crazy because Ren, Nora, and Ruby can’t hear the voices

Boy is stressed, and tired, and at the end of his rope

Wolf

Werewolf AU I made because it was Spooky Season

Jaune gets mauled by a Beowolf as a child and will turn into one when he gets too emotional

He can’t control it though

Runs away after blowing up at Pyrrha and saves Cardin in wolf form at Forever Fall

Starstuff

The one where Jaune glows when he’s happy because he’s LITERALLY sunshine boy

Everyone has nature related powers that slowly awaken to show that the gods are coming back

Wrote most of it in 2021 to HarmonyLight and then forgot about it for two years

DND

Started as the gang playing DND, turned into the gang LIVING in DND

Not in Feyrun, set in a DND-ified version of Remnant

Characters are not the classes/races you’d think

Way too much thought put into it

Mando

The Arcs are similar to the Mandalorians, but that’s where the Star Wars ends

Jaune adopts Oscar and eventually Nora

Fluff ensues

Twins

“Hey, Yang and Jaune look kind of alike” taken to the extreme

Jaune is abandoned by Raven and raised by the Arcs

Parent Trap realization/angst ensues

Twins have a psychic bond

Mirror Man

Jaune retreats WAY far into the RK persona

RK “kills” Jaune to protect everyone from “a horrible killer”

Very angst much ouch

Not actually DID, just mentally protecting himself from V8 trauma

Modern Magic

That’s it, that’s the AU

Inspired by all those modern witch AUs I used to read back in 2014 MCYT

Set in “real world” and they’re all in college

Man out of Time

Jaune is a timelord, but he isn’t the Doctor, I literally can’t stress this enough

His TARDIS crashed and he was adopted by the Arcs

Regenerates way too often for how long he’s been alive

Healing Rust

Yo that boy’s got hella trauma, let’s speak on that

Set after V9 and written as a MAJOR healing fic

Oneshots inspired by asks sent in

Royalty

Obligatory royalty AU

Jaune and Weiss are the royals, Pyrrha is Jaune’s guard

Everyone is involved somehow

There’s angst in The Plot, but mostly it’s just Armoured Angel

Fusion

Jaune’s Semblance manifests as a way to fuse the souls of two people, combing their bodies

Two people can fuse, but Jaune has to have fused with both of them first

LOTS of art of different character fusions

Angst and identity issues galore

Burning Knight

When Penny is killed, Jaune inherits the powers

“Woohoo, time to repress this”

Egg cracking is pushed off until RWBY fall into the Ever After

Jaune is a girl who feels like a guy, still uses he/him pronouns

Hare’s Breadth

Jaune dies on the tower during the Fall, Pyrrha survives

Blacksmith repairs him to prevent a paradox

Juniper is used to repair since his body was dissolved by Cinder

Angst and fluff and being confused about why the hell he’s alive and a jackalope-taur

Knights in Time

Jaune and Weiss are sent back to Volume 1 by the Blacksmith

Time travel fix-it ensues

Starts with White Knight, eventual Armored Angels

[dancingtotuyo]

2. a clouded mind and a heavy heart

Woman | Joel Miller x Reader

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: No, Joel Miller isn’t stalking you. He just knows what you do every night.

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader. Age Gap. TV characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: swearing, grief, talking & illusions to death & loss, references to cannon events & violence & other topics.

Words: 2419

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Joel looks out his front window. The sun dips past the mountain tops. You live next door to Tommy and Maria’s place presenting him with the perfect view of your front porch. You walked out 30 minutes ago, breathing in the fresh air, before setting out on a walk.

It’s a warm Monday night. He opens his window to let in the breeze while he waits for you to start your third and final lap. The promise of summer floats into the house.

While he hasn’t talked to you since that day in the clinic, he’s picked up a lot in the week he’s been here. You have a toddler, a boy named Carter. Tommy shared that piece of information. Joel remembers you had a brother named Carter too. Tommy didn’t respond when he asked about the boy’s father. You either feel comfortable enough to leave Carter sleeping in the house or his father is a shut-in, but he also notices the facing windows left open between yours and Tommy’s house. Maybe he’s out on an extended patrol.

Every night since he’s come back, you walk 3 laps. It’s so normal in a life before Cordyceps way, so suburban. He remembers you walking the block with your parents, friends, and sometimes Sarah.

He watches you every night, curiosity piqued. Tonight you step out in a fucking pajama set: a thin green shirt with matching shorts that show off your legs. He ignores the tug of desire, not quite recognizing it at first. He’s grown unfamiliar with it in the last year. There hasn’t been time for silly things like that, or anyone around. Besides, where does someone find a matching pajama set these days?

His feet carry him out to his own porch without thinking. You’re just about to start your final lap when you spot him. You raise your hand in a friendly wave. Again, it takes Joel back to the old way of life: polite waves and nods when you pass people, block parties with people you only talked to twice a year. Joel hated small talk then- still does, but he’d been raised not to be rude.

The wave isn’t an invitation by any means, but Joel finds himself meeting you in the middle of the road. You haven’t talked since he came into the clinic last week. He wasn’t home when you brought over the device to help his hand.

“Howdy neighbor,” you say.

Joel cocks his head to the side. Another slice of life. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Haven’t used that one in a while.” You mimic his movement. “How’s the hand?”

Joel instinctively rubs his thumb through the palm. “It’s alright.”

“You doing those exercises?”

Joel looks back at his porch, his thumb now moving across his bottom lip. He seems to be contemplating something. He looks almost out of place. You’ve never seen Joel Miller not hold command of the space he occupied.

“So, I’ll take that as a no.”

He bristled. “Say, would you care for some company? On your walk.”

“You stalkin me, Miller?” You cross your arms.

You know your routine is predictable. Most people in Jackson know you walk every night weather permitting, but the idea of getting Joel Miller to admit that he noticed it stirs a sense of pride in you.

Joel contemplates his words carefully. “Saw you walk out earlier. Looked like you might be going for another lap.”

Of course, he won’t admit it. Maybe one day you’ll pull the confession from him. “Wouldn’t mind a little company.” You step into motion and Joel follows.

You walk until the houses end, the cow pasture coming into view. They’re farther out tonight, looking like ants in the distance. Joel is quiet at your side, but the company is nice. You haven’t had company in a long time.

The two of you walk the fence line. You stare out at the pasture, toward the mountains as the breeze dances in your hair. You push it out of your face and in the dying light of day, Joel notices the fading light flicker off the gold on your left hand. He turns his head out toward the field clearing his throat. Shut-in husband it is. “So, how long have you been in Jackson?”

You wrap your arms around yourself. The gold band glares at him in his periphery. He didn’t see it on you at the clinic. Not that it matters. It doesn’t matter.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

Joel looks surprised. The Jackson settlement hasn’t reached its 9th birthday yet.

“My grandparents had a vacation house a couple miles north of here. I was there with a group of friends when the outbreak hit. Jackson was already pretty quiet. Everyone who was here either panicked and left, or got loaded up by FEDRA.”

“No infected?”

“A few, but we took them out pretty quickly.”

Joel nods. “You avoided the evac crews.”

“We were at the house. It’s far enough out that we weren't in their search perimeter. My friend Kerry went… we told her not to.”

“Do you know if she made it?”

You shake your head. “We told her she couldn’t contact us, or tell anyone we were here.”

“Smart.”

You shift your weight from foot to foot. “How did you get all the way to Boston?”

Joel shrugged. “Just happened.”

“Tommy’s version was much more thrilling than yours.”

“Well, it’s Tommy.” He stops, leaning against the fence. The wind jostles his curls. He reminds you of a farmer looking over his herd.

Your hip rests against the fence post. You take in his profile. He’s still a beautiful man you think and then you toss the thought to the cows wary of the trap set before you.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you say.

“Sounds like you already know.”

You nod. Tommy doesn’t talk about it much, but you’ve pieced things together over time, holding Maria’s hand when she came to you in crisis after Tommy told her.

“It doesn’t bother me, Joel. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It should bother you.” He says. “Should bother me.”

“Survival is a cruel game.”

Joel’s eyes finally land on yours. Something charges in the air. It sends electricity crackling through your bones, igniting something you haven’t felt in a long time. You swear he’s reading your thoughts.

You turn, heartbeat pounding in your ears, and head back on your well-worn route. You don’t know what to do with those feelings. Joel follows.

“You managed out here for 12 years? Alone?”

“After Kerry left, there were four of us: Anne, Denise, and my brother, Carter. We raided the houses around us. We found some stores that were relatively untouched. Everyone else left with the evac crew.”

Joel wracks his brain trying to remember meeting people by those names. You pick up on it. “They’re all gone. Infected or killed by raiders-” it’s been a long time, the death of your friends was hard, but losing your brother was the hardest. You push the memories back.

You can’t finish the sentence, even after all these years. Joel doesn’t ask you to. It’s the ending you’ve both encountered too often in this world- one less seat around the table.

Joel nods. The two of you fall into silence, but you’re okay with it. The quiet is nice. There’s a thrum of liveliness coming from the Tipsy Bison. A group of kids gather to play a game of kick-the-can out by the pasture in the growing dusk.

You catch Joel’s eyes roam around, absorbing it all.

“They even have town dances.”

You can’t quite pin Joel’s reaction. Bewilderment perhaps?

You remember the weirdness of it all. The Jackson group had fun, even before settling within the protective walls. It was an adjustment for you too.

You’d run like a fawn when the group came through. Maria sent a few people after you. Gabe was the one who tackled you in the autumn leaves. You landed a killer kick to his kidney and a fist to his eye before the others caught up.

They’d welcomed you into the group after assuring you were alone and a non-threat. They’d thrown a party after securing the original gated community. You can still see Gabe standing in front of you, hand outstretched smiling ear to ear with his swollen, purple eye. He wore it like a badge of honor. It sends a pang through your chest as your thumb plays with the gold band around your fourth knuckle. You haven’t been to a town dance since his death.

You finish the loop, drawing to a stop between your front doors. Joel turns to face you. Something flickers in his eyes, disappointment maybe. You wonder if he’s as lonely as you are.

His eyes lock with yours and you feel that charge again. The air seems to thicken, and you do the unthinkable. You let the trap snap. Just a small one, one you can control.

“You wanna take another lap? I bet we could fit one more in.”

Joel pauses. He’s never seen you do more than 3 laps. He feels the charge too. He’s playing with fire. The ring on your finger says so.

“Your husband okay with that?”

“If he wasn’t, he shouldn’t have died.”

Your own answer shocks you. It shocks Joel. Then, it creeps up on you, growing slowly- Gabe’s laughter. You know it’s all in your head, but he would have appreciated the humor. It spreads through you until the bubbly laughter escapes your mouth.

Joel tilts his head to the side. He can’t explain the way his chest feels lighter. “I'm glad you find it funny.”

He wonders if you catch the tension easing from his chest and the way his lips til upward. He doesn’t fully understand it yet, but he knows there’s something brewing inside him. Eight months ago, he would’ve run for the hills, and shut down whatever feelings he had, but it’s like opening up the gates for one person cracked it for more, but he’s still cautious. More people to care about is just more to lose. Ellie has him worrying enough as is.

His mind drifts to Tess- how he could never tell her what she wanted to hear. How he could never feel what she felt. Sure, Tess was like family to him; he cared for her in ways that were beyond a friend. Partners seemed to best describe it. He mourned her loss, but he’d shoved any greater feelings away long before that.

“I really don’t.” It spills over again. You cover your mouth. Joel raises an eyebrow. “It’s just that- he would’ve loved that joke”

Joel chuckles. You embrace the laughter, feeling lighter than you have in years. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes, forcing you to wipe them away.

Joel wants nothing more than to keep that smile plastered to your face. He recognizes it. It’s the very one Sarah used to pull from you. He needs it, craves it. Because now that he’s seen it again, he has to make sure it stays.

“Sounds like he had a good sense of humor.”

You manage a nod. “He sure did.”

“And Carter is okay?”

You cross your arms. “So you know I have a kid and his name? You sure you’re not stalking me?”

“Tommy told me.” He kicks at the dirt feeling a little silly. “He didn’t mention your husband.”

You bite your lip. “He and Tommy were close. They patrolled together, drank together, caused trouble together. They were like brothers.”

Joel nods. There’s a little stab in his chest with the reminder of the years he lost with Tommy. He sits with the feeling until it eases. He’s thankful for the family Tommy pulled together here.

You start on the additional lap without warning, but Joel follows. You’re unsure if you should open up. Do you want to open up? Does Joel want to hear it?

“He called me Doleful.”

“Your husband?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Gabe would say- Doleful: the eighth dwarf that never was- that’s you.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrow, a deep crease forming between them. “That doesn’t seem very flattering.”

“It wasn’t- but it suited. I didn’t smile hardly ever. Didn’t joke.” You think back to the times before the group settled here, after your brother’s death. You don’t know how you kept on or why. “He made it his mission to made me laugh.”

Joel tried to picture it. You and Sarah were always laughing about something. You took Tommy’s shit and returned it, but he knew how this world changed people. “How long has it been?”

“2 ½ years.” It comes out so quickly. You imagine you could give him the number of days or hours if he asked. “I feel like I’m just now coming out of the fog. If it weren’t for Carter-“ you don’t let yourself finish the sentence, but you know you’d be a mad woman pacing your house like a ghost for the rest of time.

Joel nods. “Took me 20 years to come out of it. That ache never really goes away.”

You meet Joel’s eyes with a nod. “No, I guess I doesn’t.”

Your final lap comes to a close in silence. Lights from front porches illuminate your path home. You find yourself slowing your steps, extending your time together, but it’s not enough. You stop where you met, Joel turning to you.

“Thanks for letting me walk with you. I enjoyed it.”

“Anytime.” You wrap your arms around yourself. The thin pajama set provides little protection now that the sun is gone and the breeze has picked up.

Joel nods. You think you catch his eyes travel over your body. Warmth ignites inside you at the thought.

His voice seems to deepen. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” He says, turning back towards his new home.

The nickname is oxygen to a flame creating a raging fire inside you. Chills rush across your skin. He’s called you that before, offhandedly, years ago in another lifetime. It had been completely innocent then: a side effect of living in the south, but you still melted whenever he did. This is different. Whether he intended it to be or not.

He’s already reaching for the door handle when you call out.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Joel looks almost surprised, but manages a nod. “Same time tomorrow.”

You don’t see the trip wire leading to the biggest trap of all.

[dmitriene]

Hi sweetie!! I saw that ur requests are still open so I'm here now haha.

But anyways, If you like the idea of course, could I request some fluff with re4 Leon? Like him taking care of the reader after a bad day at work or something? Maybe some cuddles and soft kisses, I desesperately need him.

I thought It might be cute and please let your mind roam free with the idea I'm pretty sure I'll love it ♡♡

꒰ heyy lovey!!! i absolutely love the idea and also you really helped me by reminding that i can also write about reader problems, not only leons's 😭 also, hope you'll like it, because it came out really short!🤍 ࿐ ꒱

title — comfort in his arms content — re4 leon kennedy x gn reader tags — fluff, comfort, domestic established relationship, sweet baby leon is comforting you while you crying.

please enjoy your reading!

The day started like any other, with the gentle morning light streaming through the curtains and Leon's warm embrace enveloping you.

His arms wrapped around you and his lips gently kissed your neck, it should have been a happy morning filled with love and satisfaction, but when you slipped out of his arms to get ready for work, an invisible cloud seemed to hover over you.

From the moment you left the warmth of your shared bed, everything seemed to go wrong.

You were fumbling with your toothbrush, toothpaste splattered on your shirt and you forgot where you put your car keys, in the office your usually organized thoughts were scattered like leaves in the wind and you couldn't concentrate on tasks.

Your boss noticed your exhausted state — you could barely concentrate on the questions and tasks at hand, a haze seemed to descend over you, clouding your thoughts and making even the simplest tasks seem monumental.

And by the end of the working day you looked even worse.

Your eyes were tired, your shirt was wrinkled from nervous tugging, your hair was disheveled, you couldn’t wait to return home to the comforting presence of Leon, who always knew how to make sure everything was fine.

Leon, punctual as always, picked you up as usual.

As you slid into the passenger seat of Leon's car and drove home, the atmosphere inside the car was filled with an unusual tension.

The air, usually filled with comfortable silence or casual conversation, was laced with anxiety, Leon's usually relaxed demeanor changed and he cast worried glances in your direction, gripping the steering wheel with a strength that betrayed his anxiety.

The quiet hum of the car's engine served as a backdrop to the unspoken tension between you, the interior of the car was bathed in the soft glow of the lights on the dashboard, casting intermittent shadows that danced across Leon's face, his handsome face, usually relaxed and good natured, showing wrinkles of worry as he glanced sideways on you.

From time to time you noticed how he nervously fiddled with his pant leg, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the fabric, this was a clear sign of his anxiety, a manifestation of concern for you, you could feel his gaze on you, soothing, but with a tinge of anxiety, and his grip on the steering wheel intensified, his knuckles turning white as he struggled with his anxiety.

The silence between you was palpable, filled only with the faint sound of a car engine and the distant rumble of traffic, Leon seemed lost in thought, his brows furrowed as he tried to piece together the events of the day, wondering what could have happened to leave you in such upset state.

With every mile passed the tension grew, creating a heavy but fragile atmosphere in the car, it was as if you were both tiptoeing around a hidden mine, not knowing when or if it would explode, Leon's occasional glances were a silent plea for you to open up, to share the burden that weighed on your shoulders.

As you continued to sit in silence, your exhaustion and frustration growing, you felt Leon's apprehension increase, the inside of the car becoming a haven of unspoken concern, a place where you both could lose yourself in your thoughts while in the same space.

The rhythmic sound of the tires on the road seemed to emphasize the severity of the situation — the road stretched endlessly before you as you both headed home, it was a journey filled with unspoken emotions, a silent connection that transcended words.

In the dimly lit car, you could see the outline of Leon's profile, his jaw clenched in worry, his eyes darting between the road and your reflection in the rearview mirror, street lights rushing past like a blur, casting fleeting shadows that danced across his face, still further complicating his emotions.

As the miles melted away and home grew closer, his concern for you grew deeper, his determination to provide comfort and support reflected in his every move, but he decided to give you some space, knowing you needed it.

The car pulled into the parking lot and the quiet purr of the engine stopped as Leon parked, the atmosphere in the car remained heavy with unspoken anxiety as you both unbuckled your seat belts at the same time, neither of you daring to break the silence that fell around you like a thick fog.

The car doors opened and you stepped out into the evening air, it was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions that accompanied your journey home, the concrete of the parking lot was bathed in the soft orange light of the setting sun, casting long shadows.

As you approached the elevator, the sound of your footsteps echoed down the quiet hallway, the dim lighting combined with the lack of words creating an almost surreal atmosphere, as if time had slowed down, allowing you both to reflect on the day's events in your own minds.

The elevator doors opened with a quiet clang and you both entered without exchanging a word, in the silence the small space seemed even smaller, the only sound was the faint hum of the elevator mechanics, Leon pressed the button for your floor and you saw the numbers above the door light up, each of which brought you closer to the sanctuary of your apartment.

When the elevator finally reached your floor and the doors opened again, you stepped out into a dimly lit hallway, the familiar sight of your apartment door coming into view and you quickened your pace, eager to find solace behind the closed doors.

As you reached the threshold of your apartment, exhaustion and emotional turmoil caused you to falter for a moment, in that brief moment of distraction your elbow hit the doorway, causing a thud that echoed down the hallway.

But the pain that shot through your arm was secondary to the emotional release it caused.

Leon, who was walking right behind you, turned sharply in your direction, his worried eyes fixed on your figure, he watched as you stood there with your head down and shoulders trembling, the floodgates of your emotions bursting open again and you began to sob uncontrollably.

Leon immediately rushed to your side, his anxiety reaching its peak, he placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch was gentle and soothing — «Hey, honey, what's wrong?» Leon's voice was laced with concern as he gently cupped your face in his hands.

You couldn't find the words to explain — frustration and exhaustion had left you unable to speak, all you could do was cry, your tears flowing freely and Leon didn't press for an answer — instead he gently scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom where he could heal your emotional wounds, sitting you on the edge of the bed and gently wiping your tears with his thumb.

Hiccupping and trying to compose yourself, you began to mutter about your terrible day, the words flowing out like a stream — «I-I'm so tired Leon, everything went wrong today, i-i messed up at work and just can't handle it anymore..»

Leon, always an understanding and supportive partner, listened carefully while his heart ached for your grief, he found you a fresh set of clothes, a soft t-shirt and comfortable shorts and began to change you with his gentle and loving touches, as he unbuttoned your shirt, his lips pressed to the top of your head, leaving tender kisses.

Kneeling in front of you, Leon helped you take off your pants, while his lips touched your knee, his touch like a soothing balm, erasing the stress of the day, he stroked your hair with endless tenderness, and when he finished dressing, he wrapped you in his again hugs, rocking you on the soft pillows of your bed.

Lying together, holding you tightly, Leon continued to kiss you softly and tenderly, each kiss was like a promise that everything would be fine, he held you close, his body gave you warmth and comfort, his whispered assurances were like a gentle lullaby, soothing your frayed nerves.

— «Shh, it's okay, honey» Leon muttered, his lips brushing your ear — «You've had a tough day, but i'm here now, we'll take the day off together and i'll make sure you relax and forget about it all, you're not alone in this, i promise»

His words were a lifeline in the storm of your emotions, and as you buried your face in his chest, you felt the weight of the day begin to fade away, in the safety of Leon’s arms, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply, finding comfort in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Even though Leon Kennedy was a man who faced unimaginable horrors on a daily basis, he was also someone who could heal your wounded heart with his tender kisses, warm hugs and unwavering love.

In his arms, you knew that even the worst days could be turned into moments of comfort and tenderness, and as you closed your eyes, you fell into a peaceful sleep, grateful for the refuge you found in his arms.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

© dmitriene - my masterlist or ao3 please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[bardic-tales]

Nurturing November: Day 9: Interactions with Setting

Throughout this month, I’ll be sharing character-building exercises that I have completed that will bring out my ocs’ more tender sides. This can be anything from snippets to oc questions to character analysis.

In a hidden section of the North Crater, Bianca has manifested a small, storybook-like cabin as a retreat with her reality-bending powers since Sephiroth told her to practice honing her powers for the coming fight for the Planet. Bianca’s imagination built the cabin, and it almost feels enchanted. The cabin feels like something straight out of a fairy tale — quaint and timeless. Deep in the icy wilderness — a forest that she has also created — in the North Crater, the house has a rustic charm, low light, and a faint smell of cedar. Snow drifts against the windows. The cabin will become almost a secluded haven, as it is cut off from the rest of the North Crater. Tucked away in the distant corners, against the jagged walls, lies a cave. This is where Bianca’s body will regenerate after the ultimate battle against Cloud and his companions during the Meteorfall event. For Bianca, this is a place where she can offer Sephiroth a moment of normalcy and comfort.

The cabin’s interior reflects Bianca’s care and attention to detail. There is a well-worn leather couch that is draped in thick, festive, woolen blankets and a small table beside it that often has a silver serving tray with mugs of hot cocoa, complete with a hint of cinnamon and whip cream with chocolate sprinkles. While they drink their hot chocolate, he will usually read to her before the roaring fireplace. She created this place to hold these simpler moments, to show that they are more than just villains trying to take over the Planet / Omniverse and can exist without the weight of their usual personas. Sephiroth’s edges seem to soften only slightly, and he accepts her in a way that feels meaningful, even if vulnerable. He allows himself to be coaxed into these small, quiet traditions — drinking hot cocoa, having romantic getaways, and just existing with his loved one. He gives in because he was deprived of any kind of warm relationships as a child, both under Hojo’s control during his experiments. Later, as a 1st Class SOLDIER, he only allowed two or three people close to him. In this setting, even his stoic demeanor relaxes, as he’s just content to sit close to her.

Bianca treasures these snowed-in moments for the same reason Sephiroth does, as there were few people she allowed in fearing betrayal. Here, they could find something genuine and lasting. For her, creating this cabin is an act of love, a way to nurture the quiet side of their relationship. His presence fills the space, adding weight and warmth to it, transforming it into a sanctuary for both of them. And while they may share a few words beyond his reading to her, his mere acceptance of care speaks volumes. He lets her see him not as the One-Winged Angel, but simply as Sephiroth. This gesture is Sephiroth’s own way of reciprocating her affection, a subtle acknowledgeable that her effects and love have become his refuge amidst their grand destiny. It’s a silent promise of what will await her in the Promised Land.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@nightingaleflow @seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap @serenofroses

[valentine-cafe]

"Why do I need the sunlight when I have you?" With 781 Talisen please!?!:D

[Gn reader]

Fluff?:D

-🍄

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verse 781 talisen

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ reaper x reader, grim reaper x reader, aetheer x reader, snake monster x reader ⊹ ۪ ࣪

the morning sun shone through the windows of the dimly lit dorm.

candle wax melting as flame licks away at the string leaving behind the gentle smell of roses and wildflowers.

a pair of eyes crack open. exhaust still quite evident in them. all from last night’s events that you had with your boyfriend.

traveling across the city to get to the old observatory and take in the night sky from way up above the hill and inside the tower, that the two of you have made into your own little spot. your own little safe haven.

where gardens grow vast and abundant. the berries sweet and the vegetables savoury for cooking.

oh the poems the reaper recited last night. exchanging fond smiles with his beloved whenever the pair of soft lips would finish off the last paragraph written on the paper.

gone home the two lovers had, early in the morning. bodies searching for warmth after the long walk down avenues and alleys.

the blankets of the plush bed had been comforting clouds, and the pillows, soft grass sweeping across a meadow of beautiful lilies when the two of you reached home.

and now, you were awake. taking in the scent of bread baking in the oven, and fruits cut for a satisfactory fruit salad with breakfast.

“tal?” the soft croak that calls for the man reaches his ears quick. his face catching your eyes as it cast a look over broad shoulders.

“ah xīn gān, you have stirred from your sleep. i see?” he chuckles. the corners of his mouth curling fondly, lovingly. a smile very few but rishen, alessio and you see. holding such admiration and deep rooted care for those the otherworldly being holds closest to his slow beating heart.

with a shift in your weight, you sit up straight. adjusting your pajamas and getting out of bed. bare feet tapping against the floor. halting in the middle of the living room to warm them on the rug.

“quite cold, this morning is.” you comment quietly, still adjusting your eyesight to the dorm.

a small hum emits from deep within talisen’s throat and leaves behind familiar fluttering feelings in your tummy. that lovesick feeling you’ve been feeling for years now coming back to greet you as an old friend.

“indeed.” he sighs, drawing the curtains.

“you wish for the room to be dark once again?” you ask in confusion. the candles shining like the sun now, whilst plants take in the soft glow of the room. illuminated and oddly more vibrant.

“why not?” the whisper catches you ears before your eyesight registers he has moved to be right in front of you. gently taking your hand in his and stroking his thumb across the palm of your hand.

“i need no sunlight peering through these old windows, when i have you to light everything up. my dear.” he croons softly. giving you a soft smile, his face flaring up a bit.

you cannot stop your own from doing so either. certainly, you must look like a tomato as much as him at the very moment.

with a little giggle and huff you pull him close and hug onto him. with no intention to let go. he minds not, so he drags you with him to the kitchen to finish up everything. for the two of you to eat.