#i realise how creepy this sounds

[pubwegf]

my brothers ex made her account private how am i supposed to stalk her now 😔😔😔

[adhd-merlin]

Rarepair fave is def Merdred, those mfs had Vibes™ that were just.... Something else. Like, they needed to be locked in a room so they could either talk it out, fight it out, or fuck it out. Something. Anything. Because I really think if not for that goddamn prophecy, Merlin would like Mordred! A lot! Another sorcerer that's actually on his side, actively helping him! Tbh, I think he liked him in canon, even though he didn't want to, which just adds to the Angst of them.

Fave scenes of them are in "With All My Heart" when Mordred says he hopes he and Merlin can be friends and you can just see Merlin internally screaming at a volume to break glass, and in "The Drawing of the Dark" when Mordred asks why Merlin always thinks the worst of him, and again, you can see that moment of Merlin just being weighted by what he knows and being unable to say it.

And for a fic rec: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25627360 (it is smut, but there are also feels, and it's Mordred POV)

FINALLY! THANK YOU!

I really think if not for that goddamn prophecy, Merlin would like Mordred! A lot!

He did like him! He said it himself!

GAIUS: If Mordred wished Arthur ill, he has had ample opportunity to do so. He's a likeable boy, Merlin. MERLIN: I know. I like him myself, but I can't ignore what I saw. — From The Disir, Ep 5x05

That's what makes it tragic, they could get on, they could be friends, they actually have much in common — but Merlin can't afford to get close to Mordred because of what he knows/thinks Mordred's going to do.

Here's my thoughts about this ship:

Arguments in favour:

• ENEMIES TO LOVERS

• the delicate balance of power: Alex and Colin go on quite a bit about Mordred and Merlin's relationship in the commentary to ep 5x02. Mordred technically outranks Merlin, given he's a knight and Merlin is just a servant, but also Merlin is Emrys and, as a Druid, Mordred is aware (and likely in awe) of his role and power. And they are both the unwilling keeper of the other's secret, as they both have to hide their magic in Camelot. It makes for an interesting dynamic.

• Like I said, it's tragic that Merlin had to keep Mordred at arm's length (emotionally) because they had some common ground: they both loved Arthur — I mean they both cared about him, and they both had faith in him. Mordred believed that Arthur would bring about a golden age just as much as Merlin did! They both yearned for peace, and they both had to stain their hands with blood to survive. They both had to go through so much trauma.

KARA: You're a knight. MORDRED: That doesn't matter. KARA: Of Camelot. Why, Mordred? MORDRED: Arthur is a good man. KARA: I can't believe you'd say that. MORDRED: You don't know him. — From The Drawing of the Dark, Ep 5x11

• As with Sefa, I think Merlin could benefit from having a Druid partner.

• Merlin glaring at Mordred is pretty hot. He also gets slammed into a wall by him which, again. Pretty hot.

• They could literally mind-fuck each oth— [gunshot sound]

Fave scenes of them are in "With All My Heart" when Mordred says he hopes he and Merlin can be friends and you can just see Merlin internally screaming at a volume to break glass, and in "The Drawing of the Dark" when Mordred asks why Merlin always thinks the worst of him, and again, you can see that moment of Merlin just being weighted by what he knows and being unable to say it.

Both great scenes! I love all the scenes they have together, I think. The way Mordred always looks and sounds vaguely menacing without doing or saying anything outright evil. They way he is desperate for Merlin's approval :(

My favourite Merlin & Mordred scene has to be the one from episode 5x05 (The Disir).

MERLIN: It won't always be like this. One day we will live in freedom again. MORDRED: You really believe that? MERLIN: I do. Beat. They both look down at the grave. MORDRED: Until then, we go unmarked in death as in life. — From The Disir, Ep 5x05

It's a rare moment of bonding between them. Mordred appeals to their shared nature ("he was one of us") and, for once, Merlin puts down his defences. He offers Mordred a few words of comfort ("It won't always be like this"). And then Mordred hits him with that fucking PROFOUND line and Merlin doesn't know what to do with it.

This is not the horrible future-murderer he's made Mordred up to be in his head. This is a boy with hope in his eyes and kindness in his heart (still). It speaks so much of what they could have been if destiny hadn't got in the way. (I've also gone on about Merlin's complicated relationship with other magic folks in another post. Yes, I have many feelings about it).

I love that scene from ep 5x11, too, ("Everything I do, you think the worst") — probably my second favourite scene with these two.

It starts out with Merlin being so confrontational and aggressive, but it ends with Merlin deciding to trust Mordred, for once. Perhaps reluctantly, but he does.

It's tragic that he seems to open up to Mordred when it's too late. I've touched on before on why I think it is that it happens at this moment. Merlin has literally been in Mordred's position. In fact, some of the dialogue in this scene echoes Merlin and Gaius's confrontation in ep 2x09, when Merlin was ready to run away with Freya.

If that wasn't clear enough, we also have Mordred asking Merlin directly:

Tell me you wouldn't do the same for the woman you love.

But of course Merlin would. He has. Well, he's tried to.

But again, because of what he knows about Mordred, Merlin can't let Mordred escape, even though he gets what he's trying to do, and doesn't blame him for trying.

I also like when Mordred angrily confronts Merlin later in the same episode. His outburst shows how he is well aware of how unfairly Merlin has been treating him, and although he's been remarkably chill about it up until now, it doesn't mean he's not angry and resentful about it. He may not show his emotions much, but he's not unfeeling.

"You did it because you hate me", he says, and "This time you've gone too far!"

THIS IS A MAN WHO'S HAD ENOUGH. It's also a reminder of how much Mordred has been putting up with — for all he knows, Merlin hates him for no good reason. I think it says something about Mordred's nature that he only truly snaps when Merlin's meddling threatens the person he loves. MY STABBY CHILD IS FULL OF LOVE OKAY

I just think they have such an interesting dynamic!

I can see why they wouldn't be a super popular pairing, given Merlin's attitude to Mordred in the show and what Mordred ends up doing. And also the age gap, I guess (I personally don't find it too weird because the actors are so clearly close in age that it can be easily brushed off, but I can see why other people might find it off-putting).

Fanfics

THANK YOU for the fic rec anon, I've skim-read it and it looks very much up my alley ♡

I actually haven't gone looking for many Merlin/Mordred fics. I've a read a few ages ago, most of them just short ficlets, but I only have one bookmarked. It's the fic that put Merlin/Mordred on my radar:

Set in Stone by EachPeachPearPlum (on AO3).

It's a relatively long fic (almost 50k words), so there is space to explore Merlin and Mordred's relationship.

I actually read it before watching the show properly (I basically watched a bunch of scenes from the show and dipped my toes in fanfiction before deciding to watch all of the series).

I haven't re-read it since, and I don't even remember how it ultimately deals with the whole prophecy thing, if it even gets to that point (I think the author meant for this to be part of a series but they didn't continue, although this story is complete). But the prophecy was addressed, with what I thought was an interesting twist.

(I won't say anything too spoiler-y in case anyone wants to check it out, but Mordred is actually aware of the prophecy and he even knows an extra bit about Merlin which Merlin himself doesn't know about. It's revealed pretty early in the story, so it's not really a spoiler).

It touches on some aspects of Merlin and Mordred's relationship that I find fascinating, so I think it's worth a read if you're interested in this pair.

Random lil' excerpt:

"I am not a child, Emrys," Mordred hisses, leaning in close; Merlin suspects he's going for menacing, but all it really comes off as is petulant, which sort of proves his point. "I was the last time you tried to kill me, but not now." And then there are words in Merlin's head, words he is powerless to stop, filled with a rage that is everything and nothing all at once. Keep your reasons to yourself, Emrys, but do not try to placate me with what we both know are lies. Mordred stands then, the expression on his face one of youthful rage, burning bright and burning quickly, and Merlin wishes he was right. If Mordred wasn't so young, Merlin could kill him without hesitation, could dream about him without hating himself (or without hating himself quite so much, since the fact that Mordred is destined to destroy everything Merlin is destined to protect is at least as much of a concern as Mordred's age). This could all be over and done with, one way or another. "Get out of here, Mordred," Merlin snarls. "You live because I let you, and you live for as long as I let you. Do not tempt me."

I JUST THINK IT'S HOT WHEN HE THREATENS TO MURDER PEOPLE OKAY

I'm just going to bring this post back to your attention. There are dozens of us! (people who find mean Merlin sexy). DOZENS

As a final note — my Italian brain refuses to call this ship Merdred. There's got to be a better name for it 😭

[theemporium]

I am so jealous of you right now 😭😭😭 american mcdonald’s ain’t shit and you guys still have snack wraps 🥲

oh bless😭guess you gotta jump across the pond👹

[yesterdayiwrote]

It's probably down to external factors right now, but everyone always says how friendly and communal Tumblr is and actually I feel like it's one of the loneliest platforms?

[redsray]

Batfam AU where Jason never dies, so Tim doesn't join the family the standard way. Instead, he continues pouring most of his time and energy into his photography, eventually becoming known as a popular photographer for events and all that. So now, picture this: Tim gets hired to be a photographer for a Wayne gala. Obviously, he's ecstatic, because he can take pictures of Batman, Robin and Nightwing and be in their presence for a whole night. Since Tim is so naturally talented in stealth and taking pictures unnoticed, the second one of the fam realises this they're like: this kid is good. Tim manages to go unnoticed by all 3 of them (all bat-trained, one literally batman) multiple times during the night, and even when he is noticed, he disappears before they can manage to get a good look at him; to the sheer amazement of Dick and Jason.

Jason, (very discreetly putting snacks in his suit pocket): i know you're under the table, kid.

Tim: don't mind me, Mr. Todd-Wayne, sir, just taking a few pictures

Jason: right... Jason's fine, and what pictures were you taking from under the table?!

Tim, showing him perfectly good shots of him: these.

Jason: how did you get that. it looks like you took it from the rafters

Tim, nodding: I did.

Jason, glancing at the ceiling: ...what?

Tim, gone:

Jason: no fucking way.

Dick, hearing a very, very faint camera shutter from behind him:

Dick, turning around and finding no one there: what the actual...

Dick, getting the feeling of being watched and whirling around to find Tim staring at him from across the room: ... huh.

Jason, pulling Dick aside: you see that kid too, right?!

Dick, nodding: the camera kid, yeah?

Jason: who is that.

Dick: he's one of the hired photographers, apparently. one of the best in his field, despite his age.

Jason: he's good. like, really good. snuck up on me 4 times already, the little bastard.

Dick: you too? i swear he's constantly watching. it's creepy how well he can sneak past both of us.

Jason:

Dick:

Jason: you don't think...

Dick: no. B would've told us.

Jason:

Dick:

Dick: did he get another kid and not tell us somehow

Bruce: what do you mean another kid?

Jason: you heard us. did you adopt another kid and not tell us?!

Bruce: no?? how would I even?? ... what's this about?

Dick: one of the photographers has managed to sneak up on both me and Jay multiple times already

Bruce: what.

Jason: he also can't be more than like. 15 or 16. so forgive us for assuming you took another one in.

Bruce: do you know his name?

Dick:

Jason:

Bruce: really?

Dick: in our defence, he's very hard to catch. i wouldn't be surprised if he's snuck up on you, too.

[camera shutter noise]

All of them, whipping their heads toward the sound only to find nothing but air:

Tim, smiling from the other side of the room:

Jason: do you see what we mean?!

Cue an entire night of shenanigans where it's just Dick, Jason and Bruce trying to catch Tim and learn about him. Upon finding out who he is and where he lives, Dick immediately asks to keep him as an honorary member of the family. Jason is hesitant at first but at some point Tim calls Bruce Batman instead of Mr. Wayne on accident and Jason laughs so hard he's basically won over. Bruce can do nothing but watch as Tim proceeds to come over almost every night for sleepovers and is coddled by both of his sons. And he can't deny, the kid's investigation and stealth skills are top tier. By the time Dick and Jason both start referring to Tim as 'their younger brother' Bruce has just accepted his fate.

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part two

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

─────────────────────────

It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.

You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.

On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.

Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.

The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.

Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.

Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.

“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.

You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.

Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.

You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.

He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.

A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.

Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.

“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”

An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.

You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.

Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.

Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.

─

The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.

Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.

He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.

Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.

A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.

“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.

“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible

Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.

Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.

Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.

Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.

“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.

“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.

“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.

Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.

a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”

“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.

They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.

─

You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.

As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.

“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.

Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.

Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3

[januaryembrs]

SWEET AND RIGHT AND MERCIFUL | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says: OMGGGG EM CONGRATS ON 3K !!! soooo deserved and i’m so so happy for you!!! please may i request tea for sunshine!reader 🥹🩷 maybe the moment when she realises just how much she likes him (perhaps she was in heavy denial beforehand)? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOUUUUU 🩷🩷🩷

description: The Sunshine rookie Spencer had heard so much about is the first one to make him laugh since he got out of prison.

length: 4.1k

warnings: Lucky Strikes episode, talks of humans eating humans, cm gore, blood, violence etc. UnSub gets creepy with reader. sex jokes, spitting water.

author's note: dedicated to @avis-writeshq because she is my GIRL when it comes to Spencer Reid x Sunshine brain rot, and also because she requested a Drabble for them but I couldn't stop writing and here we are with a full ficlet.

It had been three weeks, three painfully long weeks since Spencer Reid had returned to the BAU, nearly ten years since she’d seen him lecturing at Pennsylvania. He looked different, but then Emily had said quite literally on her second day that their endgame was getting him out of prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and it seemed only natural that being a fed in a foreign jail would knock someone around. 

She’d been too nervous to speak to him on their first day working together, had stuck to Luke’s side like glue because he was closest in age to her and he didn’t seem to mind the way she could speak a hundred miles per hour. They had only really had any contact when she was chatting with Garcia in the kitchenette at lunch, when she was talking to the tech whizz about the crochet set she’d bought even though she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the way everything bobbed and weaved and bobbed again, and how the woman on youtube seemed to make the tiny bumblebee seem so achievable while hers looked like a yellow turd. 

He’d come up behind the two of them, his footsteps deadly silent despite the fact he had sneakers on, and she wouldn’t have even known he was there had Penelope not lit up with glee at seeing Reid poking around their office again. 

“Coffee, honey?” Penelope asked, looking over the girl’s shoulder, and it was only when he murmured a ‘mhm’ that the rookie noticed he’d crept up behind her, leaning over to grab his mug from the cupboard, and she hopped to the side immediately. 

“S-sorry, just shove me out the way next time, my mom says I have zero spacial awareness.” She said with a nervous laugh, and he didn’t seem to care as he granted her a small glance, pushing the button on the coffee machine and clunking his mug beneath the tap. 

“Have you met our newbie, Spence?” Penelope asked, friendly as ever even though the women caught the way his jaw seemed to feather with clenched muscle, like he was holding himself back from snapping, and his eyes were tired as he looked over at Garcia, barely flicking his gaze to the new face despite her prompt, “This is Y/N, she’s joined us from cold cases,” 

“Hi,” The woman chirped with a quick wave, despite the fact he was stood only a foot away from her, “It’s nice to meet you after everyone’s spoken so highly about you, Penny said you like invented the term genius,”

Spencer pursed his lips, trying not to make a backhanded comment about how dumb that sounded because of course he didn’t invent it, of course it was coined in the mid seventeenth century from the latin gignere to mean ‘exceptional natural ability’, and the last time he checked he wasn’t even born then. But he stopped himself, because she was just being nice, and it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t been sleeping or that he couldn’t eat dinner without waiting to hear a buzzer go off to let him know when it was meal time, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that she was just a few decibels too loud with her cheerful tone and smile that he could hear in every syllable. 

So he just gave her an awkward smile, and an acknowledging nod, the whir of effort from the coffee machine slowing down as his drink finished pouring, and he grabbed his mug, not even caring that the ceramic scolded his fingertips because he’d felt so much worse before and gotten through it. 

“I’ll catch up with you later,” He said coldly, not returning the sentiment, and he’d turned before he could see the way her smile dropped, her brows creasing in worry as she watched him head back towards his desk.

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked with a small voice, and Penelope wrapped an arm around her shoulder giving her a kind squeeze and a sad smile. 

“It’s not you, sweetie, he’s just-” Garcia swallowed, her own pout growing over her red painted lips, “He’s not like the Reid we used to know, he’s struggling,” 

And so she nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek with a frown. It felt silly to have her feelings hurt, except she’d been thinking about the day two agents from the BAU came to give her sociology class a talk on geographical and societal factors compelling crime, how she’d headed straight to her tutor that evening to swap her major to criminology. Because she’d hung on every word Agent Hotchner and Agent Reid had said, which definitely had nothing to do with the fact the younger of the two was so dreamy in his glasses and tweed jacket. 

She’d been excited to meet him again after nearly ten years, maybe even thank him for changing the trajectory of her entire life. He was still handsome, and despite the fact she’d grown up since then, had only thought about him as that hot guy who gave a lecture in her class that one time, she still had felt that silly fluttering feeling in her chest the second she saw him talking with Emily in her office the morning he got back. 

And he’d look at her like she was a girl scout selling cookies; a passing face, a summer temp, no one worth getting to know.

She pretended like she wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed, he’d been to prison for god sake. The guy had bigger problems than a little nobody girl from another department.

Things weren’t much better the day they got the case.

“You might want to cover your eyes for this bit, my little sugar plum,” Penelope said, looking at the rookie with soft eyes, and Emily smiled at her gently, knowing the girl had a bit of an innocent streak, not completely unlike Penny when she’d started the job. 

“Why? I’m sure it’s nothing-” She cut herself off when Penelope clicked onto the next page, and the image of a woman who could only be described as utterly butchered flicked onto the screen in full size, “Oh,” 

“Oh, indeed, rookie,” Rossi said with a wince, looking at the mulch of blood and muscle where her legs had been removed, and her fingers severed clean off as if with a carving knife. 

Luke looked up at the girl, where she’d gone a little peaky, and he patted her back gently, sliding his bottle of water over to her without a word. 

“All the telltale signs are here,” JJ said on a sighed breath, images of the rest of the crime scene flicking up on the screen.

“Pentagram, legs and fingers gone,” Rossi agreed, Luke and Matt looking between the team with a questioning glance, as she downed a sip of the water. 

“There’s even one neat aspect right here,” Emily said, the tip of her finger pointing to one of the pictures of the floor outside the bathroom stall where the body was found, “Her earrings and jewellery are laid out equidistant on the floor,”

“Sure as hell looks like him,” Rossi said, and she cleared her throat, looking to the older man on her left. 

“Like who?” She asked, her eyes snapping to Spencer who opened his mouth to speak, which seemed to be the only time he ever did bother making conversation; when there was a body on their hands.

“Floyd Feylnn Ferrell,” He said, as if the original case had only been wrapped up last week, but then with his memory she wasn’t exactly surprised, “A psychotic cannibal who’d been killing under the radar for years,”

“He killed ten prostitutes and then moved up to low risk victims,” Prentiss added, the rookie’s eyes wide. It wasn’t anything she’d never heard of, but it never made it easier knowing something even worse was coming after the murders. 

“He kept slipping through the cracks and avoiding justice so people referred to him as ‘Lucky’” JJ said, her eyes darting over the crime scene photos that seemed to take her back ten years to when they’d seen almost an identical set of photos, like Hotch was about to call ‘Wheels up in twenty’ any minute now.

Rossi sighed, looking at the younger girl who watched him wide eyed, “Have you eaten today, rookie?”

She shook her head dumbly, “Why?”

“Because the worst of it was he owned a barbeque joint,” Her face dropped even more, if that was even possible, “And he fed one of the victims to the search party,”

Her hand flew to her mouth, blinking at the seasoned agent in terror, because that was something she hadn’t ever thought would enter someone’s mind until she heard it. As simple as it sounded, for someone who had seen cases going back twenty, thirty years, some particularly heinous in nature, there were new lengths she didn’t realise a human could ever go to, let alone would.

Penelope stopped, shutting her laptop lid and glancing at JJ in a plea for help, as the thought of what had happened after the Ferrell case rushed to the front of her mind, when the guy she’d thought wanted to take her out on a date shot her. 

“I have a computer…” The blonde trailed off, heading for the door to the office room with a dazed look in her eyes, and the rookie watched her leave, her neck and palms clammy as she thought about what Rossi had just said. 

“I think I have a computer too-” She rushed, and she bolted from her seat before she could think of anything else, dashing after the technical analyst because she feared she was going to throw up if she didn’t get a breath of fresh air. 

Spencer watched her hair swish as she scurried out the room, and he wondered how long she would last if she couldn’t stomach just a few photos. He had struggled with the gore at first, sure, but he’d never ran. Maybe he was being cruel, but he couldn’t say that a girl like her exactly fit the part of an FBI agent, she seemed… pure, like driven snow, and if anything he’d hate for the bloodied parts of their job to stain a girl so squeaky clean.

Emily nudged his shoulder, nodding towards her retreating figure when he looked up at her questioningly, “You keep an eye on her in this case. She’s still learning,” 

And Spencer grit his teeth, because he hated the idea of babysitting when he had a dozen of his own problems, but he nodded indignantly. 

He just hoped she didn’t make things too hard for him. 

–

The door swung open behind Ferrell, the UnSub’s sister, the midday Florida heat boring down on her back, Spencer bristling at her right as Luke pocketed his badge. 

And then there he was. The guy from the photo, his thick, wiry glasses exact matches to the ones he’d been wearing the day he got caught, though she supposed a mental facility didn’t exactly have funds for replacements. 

“It’s no problem, Lori, I’ll speak with them,” His voice was a strong southern twang, and almost chillingly calm. His sister looked over her shoulder at him, the woman fretful as she glanced between the four agents, ten years of troubles on her shoulders. She sighed, running a hand over her neck nervously and headed back inside to be with her son, leaving them alone with their suspect on the doorstep, “You’ll have to wait, I’m on my way to church. It’s right around the corner so I’m within the thousand permitted yards from the monitoring station,”

He quickly glanced at where Matt and Luke stood behind her, the former with his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed up the thin, twiggly guy who looked like the type to live in his mother’s basement until he died, not the type to cannibalise and murder. 

His eyes darted over to where Reid towered over him, familiarity flicking in his face as he looked at the agent, and he smiled slowly, like something out of a horror, the uncanny valley of a face so normal when she knew he was so sick somewhat terrifying to her. He fed one of the victims to the search party. She heard it rattling around her skull as she saw the whites of his teeth, and she imagined him ripping into her then and there, her hands shaking.  

“Hey, I remember you. Where’s your friend, Agent Morgan?” Floyd said, and she felt Spencer tense up beside her, which she guessed meant it was a sore subject as she jumped into the conversation, her lips moving before she could think better of it. She’d always had a habit of talking too much when she was nervous, or to fill gaps, or when she could tell someone was uncomfortable, she’d always been told it was one of her more irksome traits. 

“You wouldn’t mind if we took a look around, would you? Just while you’re gone?” She asked politely yet, for once, she regretted ever opening her mouth the second he turned his attention on her.

She felt something cold and dreadful run down her spine as he looked straight at her, his sepia eyes trailing down over her neck, running over her body and down to her hands that fidgeted at her sides.

They waited on baited breath, her stomach flipping with sickness as that manic smile drew even wider, trained solely on her, a thought privy only to himself somewhat amusing to him. She felt herself lean away without even meaning to, incidentally feeling Spencer’s arm bump into hers as she did, and the three men seemed to tense up as they watched Ferrell smell the air, savouring every second of it, his eyes blown wide with something unreadable. Lustful yet starved, like he was on a four day fast standing next to an open roast. 

“You’re awful pretty for an agent,” Floyd said, that drawling accent of his turning her stomach, and his eyes trailed down over her calves, and she cursed herself for wearing a midi skirt. But she hated jeans on her thighs, hated the way Florida air clung humidly to her skin when she didn’t let it breathe, but she thought she might just hate the way his mouth filled with saliva more, “Do you like running, agent?”

“Sometimes,” She whispered, shrinking in on herself even more as he took a step out of the home. 

And Spencer felt his chest drop at the sound of it. She sounded petrified. But then, he would be too if someone his size looked at him like he was a five-course banquet. And he regretted ever thinking of her as babysitting, as defective, because she was clearly trying her best, and this was where it had gotten her. Right on the UnSub’s menu.

“I bet you do a lot of running, chasing after bad guys, huh?” Floyd pushed, leering towards her with another smell of her perfume, and she could have sworn his smile only widened into something cheshire cat-esque. She nodded with a worried gulp, her breath picking up when his hand began moving up to where a rogue stray hair fell out of her bun, running over her collar bone, her heart beating so wild and heavy beneath it. 

And it was enough for Spencer to act, because within the blink of an eye, he’d side stepped in front of the rookie who seemed frozen in her spot, and Floyd’s arm was shoved away where it hit Spencer’s bicep. Ferrell was forced to stop looking over her clammy skin with heavy swallows like he was imagining just how she would cut and marinate, and instead was confronted with a frown that could send any man scarpering, Spencer’s lips pressed into something furious, his shoulders seeming only more broad than they usually did when he purposely blocked Ferrell’s view from her. 

“You’d better get going, Floyd,” Spencer said, his voice a deadly sort of calm, and his arm stuck out behind him to keep her where she was as he spoke, “You’re going to be late for church,” 

And Floyd listened, despite his smarmy smile as he dared a look at her when he passed by, despite the fact his eyes trailed back down to her jugular like he was ready to sever it there and then to string her up and cure. 

Spencer’s hand fished around his pocket, glaring at the back of Floyd’s head as he strolled down the street, tossing the keys to Alvez, “Take her back to the car, don’t let her out of your sight,” 

And the two of them listened while he and Matt swept the house, because anyone would be insane not to when Spencer looked so angry he could have put a hole through Ferrell’s head without blinking an eye.

–

“Eating people, who eats people, what on earth is that all about,” She muttered, the four of them in the SUV heading back to the station. She sat at the front with Spencer where he drove because Luke and Matt were gentlemen and had offered her the extra leg room, and Spencer had zero qualms because he was under strict instruction to keep an eye on her. 

She did that alot, he realised. Muttered when she was thinking about something. Where he went deadly silent when troubled, too focused on sorting through the mental files that seemed to be so resistant to organise these days, she was his entire opposite, always talking or humming a tune under her breath or playing an invisible set of piano notes on her knee, something to always keep the space filled. 

He’d hated it the first few days, the sound like a blaring alarm coming from over by her desk, cutting through his limited attention span, grating on his nerves and making him have to bite his tongue to stop himself from yelling at her to shut the fuck up. But then, it wasn’t exactly personal to her, even the sound of the coffee machine had been enough to pull at his hair in frustration. At twelve years old, it spluttered and whirred and kicked back at every drink it made, every second of it winding Spencer’s patience up like a jack in the box.

But he found himself listening in on her mumbles, glancing over at how her frown screwed up her doe eyes, her lip pulling between her teeth whenever there was a tiny pause in between her words, before she started again. He’d quickly realised it was the easiest cheat in the book to know when something was bothering her, that she was so much of an open book, not at all cold and guarded like him or so many other profilers he knew, that he wouldn’t need to bother deducing her like she was his next UnSub to know what was wrong. She would just tell him as it was, wear everything vulnerable on her face. 

“Something the matter?” He pressed, Luke also keeping a close watch on her from the back seat as she shook her head to herself, and her head snapped over to the driver’s side, her expression entirely caught even though she’d not exactly been subtle about her turmoil.

“M-me? “ She pointed to herself, and Spencer nodded, trying not to smile because sometimes she could be clueless, not the dumb kind but something sweet, naive, and he found himself somewhat jealous that she didn’t need to be the smartest person in the room to be worth something, she could just be herself, “Yeah, I guess I just,” She huffed, running her hands over her skirt, “I don’t get why anyone would want to eat someone else, it just-” She shivered, not in a theatrical or fake way but like a ghost had walked over her grave just thinking about Floyd smelling at her. 

“Some cultures used to cannibalise other members of their society as funerary practices as early as twenty-four thousand years ago,” Spencer said, and she stopped fidgeting to listen to him, “There’s evidence that the Magdelanians in North Europe used to turn their dead’s skulls into cups they would then drink out of,”

“That I can understand, those guys were probably starving and it’s not like they can just chow down on a damn sabertooth as an easy lunch or something,” She said, and he bit his lip from stopping her to explain that the two of them were about four thousand years apart from one another, “But like, when there’s a burger king or taco bell on every corner, why are you eating women. Who eats women for breakfast lunch and dinner, like raise your hands which one of you would ever eat a woman,” 

Luke sniggered, and Matt smirked at the innuendo of it, the double meaning of her words flying entirely over her head.

“I dunno, Alvez, do you like eating women?” Simmons asked, a smug grin in his words as the boys cackled childishly, and Spencer rolled his eyes with amusement. 

“Pretty partial to it actually,” Luke chimed in, and she whirled in her seat to look behind her of scepticism, “How about you, Reid?”

“You guys are so weird,” She murmured, and Spencer took a quick glance off the road to see her looking entirely baffled, her feathers ruffled at the fact she was left out of the joke. 

“They’re talking about oral sex,” He explained, because he remembered when that had been him for the longest time, and how it had made him feel like the butt of every punchline to not understand why everyone would smile at him knowingly, yet he found himself doing the exact same to her, his lips twitching at their corners.

Spencer watched her scoff, looking back at the two grown children in the back, “I take it back, you guys aren’t weird, your gross. Why can’t you be mature like Spencer?” She huffed, sitting back in her seat and fixing her skirt, “See if you were grownups like Agent Reid and I, you’d know the term isn’t eating a woman, it’s called focalratio,” 

Matt pulled a face of confusion, flicking his eyes to her, “Isn’t that to do with a camera lens?” 

“Do you mean fellatio?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest not to smirk because he didn’t want to make her feel stupid, except she just waved a hand at him.

“That’s what I said. I see why they call you Doctor Read and not Doctor Listen,” She giggled at her own words, watching the trees go by her passenger window, almost entirely oblivious to the way Spencer’s face cracked into a grin, something easy and charmed in his chest. 

And for a moment, he saw exactly what Penelope had been talking about when she wouldn’t stop talking about how likeable she was and how it was harder to hate her than it was to love her. 

Luke took a sip of his water, the bottle nearing the end as the Florida sun warmed it up, and he figured he might as well finish it before it became stagnant and undrinkable. 

“Actually the term fellatio describes only male genitalia, the female equivalent would be cunnilingus-” Spencer explained, and he knew she was listening because he felt her eyes on the side of his face as he spoke, except he was cut off by the sound of her screaming so loud he nearly slammed on the breaks then and there. 

“LUKE!” She yelled, and when Spencer looked, she had water dripping down the back of her hair, soaking her shirt to her skin, her black bra straps suddenly clear as day as they pressed against her dove white top. Alvez looked mortified, and he found himself apologising between coughs, water dribbling down his chin where he’d been so shocked to hear that word coming from Spencer’s mouth that he’d completely forgone swallowing and simply spat the whole thing out right through the gap between the headrest and the seat. 

And Spencer laughed; it was quiet and foreign and nothing on the roaring cacophony coming from Matt in the back, as her and Luke descended into a squabble, her proclaiming him as a disgusting alpaca man as she tried to dry herself off with his jacket. But she caught it, the small chuckle coming from her left, and she looked at him, the sodden shirt almost forgotten when she saw him laugh. 

She thought then that she wanted to make him laugh like that a million more times. And she knew she had it bad for Spencer Reid all over again.

[corkinavoid]

For @mysterious-messages, to 'Bless the child' by Nightwish

DPxDC Long Time No See

The crow was incredibly persistent. Which, of course, made it ten times more annoying in John's opinion, because he was trying very, very hard not to pay attention to the pitch-black bird with blood red eyes that was perched right outside the window.

Can't he have one single night where no impossibly powerful force of nature interrupts his attempt to drown himself in liquor? Honestly.

The crow knocks on the window again. Three perfectly timed knocks; this bloody bird sure knows how to draw attention, but it also definitely knows Constantine is avoiding it. Which is why it's insisting on making itself a nuisance, no doubt.

To be fair, John is not even entirely sure who's crow is it. Morpheus has a crow at his disposal, but his crow is a bitch. He wouldn't have simply sat on the windowsill and enjoyed annoying Constantine for the sheer spite of it. Death has her crows as well - very thematic, if you ask John - and then there was that one asshole raven that claimed itself belonging to Apollo.

And then, of course, there was-

Actually, maybe he should see what the crow wants. Might be important, after all.

Constantine sighs and puts his whiskey back on the bar before standing up. The world tilts to the side a bit - he might have had a few too many drinks, yeah. But then maybe it's just the side effect of the messenger crow being here, who knows. Constantine would rather put his money on the latter for the sake of his dignity. Not that he has much of that left.

He makes his way to the window, looks at the crow for a long moment, making his last internal debate obvious, and then opens the window.

"The hell do you want?" He asks, but quickly realises it was in vain.

He is not at the bar anymore.

Instead, he is standing in the middle of a graveyard, surrounded by tombstones, fog, and eerie silence. 4/10 on the creepy effect, John has definitely seen this shit done better.

The cloaked figure sitting on the nearest tombstone stays silent, watching him with unblinking, blood red eyes. John sighs again, pinches the bridge of his nose, and reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat for cigarettes. If he ended up out of the bar anyway, he might as well use it for a smoke break.

"I'd rather you not," the cloaked being says, not a demand but a request by the sound of it. Constantine grimaces, but puts the pack back in the pocket. Arguing with this one will get him exactly nowhere.

"What's this all about, then?" He vaguely gestures around himself, at all the death, decay, and other things that start with the letter 'D'. "I never knew you're into this kind of thing. Very Mary Shelley of you," he raises an eyebrow.

The being - the Dead God, the Ghost of Time, Clockwork, Chronos, and any other name he likes calling himself - huffs a deep, low and breathy laugh. Then, he stands up, his feet firmly planted on the ground for once. He looks different to how John is used to seeing him, all sharp edges and monochrome colors, shiny leather oxfords and loose sleeves with tight cuffs.

Honestly, he kind of reminds Constantine of vampires. He really hopes this is not actually some kind of a new kink of his because John so didn't count on that kind of night. Despite what he's said before.

"No," Chronos shakes his head, his appearance shifting from young to middle-aged. Constantine blinks; if there's anything he learned about the Dead God through their various get-togethers, it's that his age usually reflects his level of seriousness.

But he doesn't have time to ask, nor does he get a moment to prepare, when a child, a literal goddamn child no older than ten steps out from behind Clockwork.

It looks like a boy, dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie with a NASA logo on it, and- He does look like Clockwork. Same pale skin, same eerie, unblinking eyes, same unearthly air around him.

Only, his eyes are a faint blue, like ice and winter skies. Like Constantine's eyes.

The unholy fuck. And he means it literally.

"Is that-" he starts, his throat suddenly dry, pointing his finger at the boy before he even thinks about it, but the Ghost of Time laughs again, a dirty grin on his lips.

"Yours? No, thank the Ancients," he says, making sure to sound just a tad bit offended even if John can see the mirth on his face. Bloody wanker. Constantine lets out a slow, loud breath through his nose.

"Amen to that," he agrees and looks at the kid again. And, as soon as the initial shock wears off, a sneaking suspicion starts to form in his mind. He narrows his eyes. "I don't want to ask, I really don't, but I'm going to anyway. Why?"

Clockwork's face looks distant for a moment, his features shifting into old.

"A child blessed by time has no home in his own life. A child blessed by death has no place among others," he says, and John hates when they speak in riddles, but he thinks he might be getting this one right. "I am only loved when I'm gone, the moments being held dear in memory. But a child does not deserve that," Clockwork's voice sounds almost sad, and, while John does understand it's supposed to be a metaphor, it doesn't feel like one.

But then, he is the Time itself. Maybe for him it's not really a metaphor.

He looks back to the kid, and catches the boy looking away with a grimace. Seems like they have at least one thing in common - they both hold a great distaste to Cronos' solemn way of talking.

Constantine is so going to regret this, but he knows where the Dead God is leading.

"Yeah, okay," he rubs his face with one hand, and, before he has time to ask or say another word, the whole graveyard is gone, and he is standing back in the bar, the low murmur of nightly crowd and warm light around him. Just like before he opened the window to the blood-eyed crow.

The only difference between then and now is the kid standing by his side, looking at him like John is the stupidest man he'd ever seen. Oh, he is already regretting this.

Constantine drops his hand down and goes back to the bar, where he left his drink.

"Want a beer?" He asks, and the kid rolls his eyes, trailing after him.

"I'm twelve," he deadpans, and, yeah, okay, he's got a point.

Fuck it, he is calling in a favor from Bats. That man has, like, twenty kids, he should have some parenting advice.

~•~•~•~

Yeah, the song really reminded me of Clockwork for some reason. Why am I loved only when I'm gone? is really stricking me as a line written for him because you only cherish the time after it's gone, you smile at your memories and pictures, but you rarely ever pay attention to it in the moment.

Also, I did my best with the Gothic aesthetic there, and here's the additional vibe.

Clockwork, just dropping a random ass kid on his occasional one night stand and vanishing into the night, knowing that John Constantine has a soft spot for kids and won't just fuck off to who knows where: it's for the greater good the better timeline

Danny, left alone with a clearly too drunk to think magician whose soul looks like a jigsaw puzzle: the fuck it's not

[purerae]

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!PERV X FEM!READER // PT1

warnings ;; nsfw themes, creepy behaviour, overall yandere themes

╰────༺♡༻────╯

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who didn’t really believe in love at first sight. ‘People were horrible and mean, loves not real at all!’

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who immediately disregards his previous statement the moment he saw you, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice speaking to your fellow classmates.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s enamoured with you the first time you ran into the lecture hall, hair messed up, books all jumbled and bag almost falling off. You looked so perfect and sweet!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who watches you so intently as you work, he stares at you as if he’s an eagle. Everyone notices him staring at you and thinks he’s a perverted freak, but you don’t pay any mind to it. That must mean you think he’s okay!? that must mean you like him..<3

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who doesn’t even have a conversation with you for months but just practically eye-fucks you. He remembers all your outfits and if you ever rewore them. Your favourite sweater, which he wants to steal so he can do god knows what to it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost whimpers when you sit next to him, He secretly thanks the person who stole your self assigned seat.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s eyes widen as he realises he’s going to have to speak to you. shit shit shit what should he do?!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who after 30 long minutes, has the courage to shyly ask for a pen. quickly hiding his stationary; he stutters, pauses, and whispers the 7 words. It’s practically impossible to understand him. “d..do you have…a p..pen that i can borrow..?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost combusts when you give him a polite grin, saying ‘of course!’ and lending him a pen before focusing back on your work. To you it was a conversation you don’t think twice about, for him? It made his entire month.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who can’t even focus on his work as he notices the bite marks on top of your pen. your lips and teeth touched the lid…his slender fingers slowly brush the bite marks, hands quivering with delight. Even a streak of blood couldn’t compare to how red he was. He’s keeping this pen no matter what.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who gasps in relief when you leave forgetting to ask for your pen back, he quickly puts it in his bag and beams happily all the way back to his flat. The happiest he’s been in years!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who places the stolen pen on his night desk, and kisses the top of it every night like a routine. ‘I’m practically kissing her~!’

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who slowly collects the things you accidentally leave behind. Half drunk water bottle? His. A tissue you used when it was getting a bit cold? In his pocket like it’s his hankerchief. A core of an apple you chucked into the trash can before walking into the class? Treats it like it’s Gods gift

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who built a mini shrine of your belongings at the back of his closet. His harmless little secret, no body, especially you needs to know.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who loves you so so so much! he’d do anything for you! ..even if you guys have only ever spoken once or twice.

“Mmm hey! Can you help me with this question…?”

purerae<3

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Anyway, while people are discoursing about men and not sharing Shubble points, here’s the actual advice I got from watching the stream bc I think that probably needs to be spread more. Shubble elaborates it much better but if you can’t watch it’s better than nothing.

Physical abuse is not just hitting or kicking, anyone causing physical pain intentionally to you without consent is physically abusive, regardless of how that manifests or if it seems silly.

Pressuring someone into using a safeword on something that’s not, like, a mutually agreed thing and is just something one partner wants is controlling and creepy.

Partners who push at the edge of your boundaries and avoid safewords are abusive.

A partner insisting you’re remembering things wrong and making you seem crazy is abusive (specifically, it’s gaslighting)

Grand romantic gestures from the beginning can very easily be a sign of abuse, as abusers use it to endear themselves to their victims.

Controlling behaviour and refusing to break up while also refusing to make changes is possessive and unhealthy at best.

Abusers will manipulate things to make it seem normal to those outside of their victims- by being kind and helpful even as they neglect their victim, by pressuring their victim to treat their abusive behaviour as a joke, ect. It’s often very hard for an outside observer to know if something is abusive, and making assumptions off of what you know in front of closed doors isn’t helpful.

It’s very hard to tell that you’re being abused, and you'll often still retain affection for your abuser for a long time- this is normal, and this isn’t your fault if you wanted to stay friends.

Even if an abuser is struggling with their own problems, taking it out on you is not acceptable. People can be bottling up their emotions and struggle with depression and past trauma and that gives them no excuse to hurt you.

If your partner relies entirely on you to take care of them, and support them financially, that’s financial abuse one way or another.

Abusers tend to hurt more than one person, and their actions escalate without outside influence (be it intervention if possible or something that keeps them away from victims if not.)

Listen to your gut, if you think a relationship is bad. Even if you’ve been through this before, sometimes you can’t realise in it, but you’ll feel it subconciously.

Also, Shubble is being supported by friends who helped her cope and went through different but similar things. She's specifically mentioned right now keeping the stories anonymised, but she might change her mind, if I interpreted the last bit correctly. She's doing alright, she's healing, and it sounds like she's being believed by her friends, at least most of them. I wish nothing but growth and healing for them, and wish them the best moving forward.

[no-144444]

winners and losers- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

As you stepped out of the car, you were Champion of the World. The first woman to do so. The only woman to do so. You were a legend. You were going to be remembered, whether people liked it or not. 

You ran straight over to Oscar, knowing he was the only one you’d ever want to celebrate with. He caught you as you ran over and practically jumped on him. He caught you, holding you against him as he beamed with pride. 

He rested his hands on either side of your face, the both of you being covered in champagne by the rest of the team. “You did it,” he cheered. 

“We did it,” you reminded him, then pulled him into a tight hug. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You weren’t a party animal, so you’d decided you wanted to go to a movie, and as you stood outside Oscar’s room, you really wondered what the fuck you were doing. You wanted to ask him to come with you, but as your hand finally met the wood, your heart dropped. You realised how a movie sounded, and well, you already felt conflicted enough from rejecting him. 

He opened the door immediately, a comfy hoodie and sweats on, his hair a bit messy, and his eyes half closed. You felt a little overdressed in your jeans. 

“Y/n?” he smiled when he registered that it was in fact, you. 

“Hi,” you smiled. 

“Hi,” he smiled back, leaning against the doorway. “W-What are you doing here?” 

“I was going to go see a movie, if you wanted to come with me. There’s a cinema down the street,” you explained. “Obviously, if you’re exhausted or just not into movies, that’s fine. I was just wondering.”

Was Oscar Piastri into movies? No, not really. He probably couldn’t even name 3 Christmas movies, and everyone knows Christmas movies. Was Oscar Piastri exhausted after a tense weekend? Absolutely. But was Oscar Piastri going to give up the chance to sit right beside you for 2 (perhaps 3) interrupted hours and enjoy the silent pleasure of your company?

Fuck no. 

So you were both at the cinema in under 5 minutes. You’d insisted on paying for the food, which he insisted on paying for the tickets (ever the gentleman), and you both quickly got to your seats. Neither of you really knew what the film was about, you’d just wanted to turn your brain off for a few hours, and he planned on staring at you the whole time. But not in a creepy way. 

Quickly, the film started, and you were hooked, your eyes darting all around the screen, following the characters. Oscar’s eyes stayed on you. More specifically, the way your hand was holding his. He froze when it happened, unsure what to do, but after a few minutes his body un-tensed and his brain started working again, and he started gently smoothing his thumb over your skin. You were soft, as soft as he remembered you to be when you two had danced together. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You hadn’t planned on crying when the mother in the film died, but it hit you like a bag of bricks and you genuinely left the theatre crying. Oscar, ever the gentleman, noticed immediately and pulled you into one of his perfect, Oscar hugs. The ones that make everything feel like it’s ok. You quickly started rushing out apology after apology, but he was quicker to shut you down, citing random studies saying people who cry at movies are more emotionally intelligent and strong. You didn’t feel very strong holding onto him so hard you thought you might break one of his ribs, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

The walk back to the hotel room was once again, filled with the silence you both loved dearly, but holding his hand. When he walked you up to your hotel room, he stood at the door, watching you open it with your key card. 

“Night,” he smiled, ready to collapse into his bed. 

You stared at him for a moment, clearly in quiet contemplation. He just looked right back at you, enjoying the view. Your teary eyes and irritated nose were pretty adorable in his opinion, and even in the low light of the hotel corridor, your eyes still sparkled just like usual. 

You took a step closer and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, making him almost gasp out loud. 

“Night,” you smiled and rushed inside, jumping into bed and overthinking the tiny cheek kiss you’d given him. 

Sleep also evaded him that night, too wired to think about anything other than your lips on his skin and how he could make it happen again. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Halfway through the second triple header, in Qatar, you found yourself… regretful of that night in Baku, and feeling increasingly good about that night in Vegas. Oscar was no different than before, still the constant pillar of strength keeping you afloat in your mad world. You found yourself wondering about his feelings, wondering if you had them too and just didn’t realise. You liked his unruly hair. You liked his stupid jokes. You liked how much he went on about cricket. You liked his family. You liked his dorky knowledge on things. You liked the way he didn’t realise how beautiful he really was. You liked him. A lot more than you’d ever liked anyone else before. You hadn’t realised when it happened, but Osccar was one of the reasons you woke up. Oscar was who you got in the car for. Oscar was your person.

Fuck. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar jumped out of the car, rushing to get to the paddock in time. He had woken up late (again), and he just had to get your morning coffee, so he was already running a little bit late. As much as he tried to hide it, it did kind of hurt to be rejected by you. I mean, what was he thinking? An F1 driver being into him? It was a silly pipe dream he wished Lando never exposed. 

He quickly rounded a corner, and finally, you were in his sights. You sat at a table, wearing a white dress and white shoes, talking with someone on the phone. He thought you looked beautiful. That white dress. Was it silly that he was thinking about weddings? 

“Morning,” you called out, a soft smile on your face. The shadows cast from the sunlight made your eyes shine even more, if that were possible. 

“Morning,” he breathed out, sitting across from you and pushing the cup over. You took it with a grateful nod and continued listening to the person on the other side. He took a sip of his own drink and just let himself stare. He saw the way a strand of hair fell over your forehead, he saw the freckles on your face, the way you scrunch your nose up, the way you… the way you were you. And he loved it all. All the sarcastic jokes, all the batshit screaming on the radio, all of the insane and deeply romantic things you’d done together. 

You put your phone down. “Hi.”

He smiled. “Hi.”

“How are you?” you asked, gently messing with the lid of your cup. 

“I’m good, thanks. How are you?” he asked, feeling as though you were hiding something. 

“I’m good,” you nodded. “I got you a gift,” you blurted out, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You did? What for?”

“Christmas,” you said like it was obvious.

“It’s November-”

“We’ll have no time in Abu Dhabi,” you explained. “And I really wanted to give this to you myself.”

“Ok,” he shrugged, his heart swelling as those words. You wanted to give it to him yourself. 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” you instructed and he did so without hesitation. Something was placed in his hand. A small, rectangular box, he assumed. “Open them.”

He opened his eyes and was met with a gold bracelet with a tiny walkie-talkie charm on it. It was beautiful and heartfelt, and somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you. He let himself giggle slightly, looking back up at your mischievous smile. “I love it,” he answered truthfully. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled. “You’ve really been my rock this year, and I really appreciate it. Thank you Osc. No one asked you to step up and be my friend, but you did, and I really appreciate all of the support.”

He smiled, taking your hand. “I’d do it again anytime. You’re incredible, and you deserve to know that.”

You smiled bashfully. “So are you.”

He couldn’t help but wonder what that meant. And he couldn’t help but hope it meant more.  

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Up to fifth gear, down to third. 

It was methodical. You were world champion, you’d won it back in Las Vegas, but you still had to fight for the Constructors, and Ferrari were not going down without a fight. You finished Qatar with a podium, but not enough to secure the championship, so onward to Abu Dhabi it went. 

“That was a good race today. Y/n up in P3, just behind the Ferrari’s and Lando in P5. We picked up some good points, but we’ll really need to push in Abu Dhabi, alright guys?” Zak smiled, and everyone groaned in agreement. 2 triple headers after one-another was truly torture, but whatever, you’d be at home in Monaco in 2 weeks time. No racing, no people, just you and your evergrowing reading list. 

Oscar nudged you. “What’s your plans for Christmas?” he asked. 

“Nothing, really,” you shrugged, trying to keep your voice down as Zak continued his pep talk. 

Oscar frowned. “Alone?”

You nodded, completely happy with your answer. His frown deepened. “Come to Australia,” he offered. 

You shook your head. “I will not impose on your family Christmas-”

“My entire family loves you Y/n, please. It’d be as much for them as it is for me.”

You smiled. “You really want me there?” 

He nodded, a bright smile on his face. “I do. I really do-”

“Those your wedding vows?” Lando spoke up. 

You just rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Ask your parents if it’s alright first, yeah?”

He beamed. “Will do.”

Australia for Christmas, that would be new. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

To say that Oscar didn't have his own agenda when asking you to come to Australia would definitely be a fat lie. After the night in Baku and the night in Vegas, he was becoming increasingly sure that you did like him back, and he thought that getting you to relax in Australia would let you feel comfortable enough to confess to him. Sounds slightly sinister, he knew, but he also knew his mother would murder him the second his feet touched Australian ground if she found out he was leaving you alone at Christmas. 

He had time now. He just needed you.

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[sun-kissy]

Hi my love!!

I’d LOVE a scarf for Christmas.

Can I do James Potter and “please forget all the times where i complained about you being a hugger.”

Maybe where reader is not really a touchy person most of the time (cuz I’m not either lol).

Thank you! Love you!!!

here’s your scarf, lovely mk!!🧣thank you for the request, love you loads <333

phone | j.p.

— “Please forget all the times where I complained about you being a hugger.”

james potter x reader

summary: there’s a creep, and it’s cold outside. fortunately, james lives nearby

tw: creepy guy, protective james <3, sorry i know i said that most of the sleepover drabbles would be christmas themed but the only christmasy thing about this is that the weather’s cold 😭

“Make sure she gets home safe!” you yell to Mary over the din of the club, steering a very drunk Lily into her arms. She grins and flashes you a thumbs-up as you turn around to leave.

Your tipsy friend’s high-pitched giggles can be heard as you make your way out, your heart jumping on beat to the music. It’s not just loud, it’s booming, and paired with the blinding disco lights, acutely overstimulating.

When Mary had first suggested this place, you definitely had your reservations — more often than not, you spotted drunkards stumbling out with either bruises on their faces or girls on their arms. But you decided to tag along. Admittedly, it had been fun. Now you were more than ready to go home to the warmth of your bed.

You’re about to push the door open when you realise you’ve left your coat back at the table. You swivel back around to find Lily swaying side to side, bent over.

She lets out a bulky groan, and your lips curve into a slight grimace in anticipation. You open your mouth to warn somebody but it’s too late; she hurtles forward, throwing up over everything in a one metre radius — your coat included.

You turn back to the front door and swing it open with a barely concealed sigh, heels clicking against the pavement as you step outside.

Cold wind hits you like a slap in the face. You’re pretty sure that your shudder is audible, rows of teeth clacking against one another as you curl into yourself. 

The mini dress your friends had picked out for you does nothing to help. You tug the ends of it downwards, squeezing your thighs together and wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to keep warm.

You glance at the road, frustration starting to nip at you. There seem to be no taxis in sight, demand raging high on a Friday night. Walking home wasn’t an option — it was way too far away and freezing was an understatement for how you felt right now. 

James’ house was nearby, but you had been pulling out all the stops to avoid him for the past few days. Not that you didn’t like him — on the contrary, you really, really liked him. A friend from high school had introduced you to him at a party and you were immediately smitten. He asked you out, and you’d been seeing each other for a couple of weeks. He was everything you could’ve wanted in a man, more than what you’d ever hoped for. You just spent a lot of time worrying you were going to screw it all up — hence never called when he asked you to, made up excuses not to meet when he wanted to. James deserved better.

“Darling!”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sudden voice, rough and sultry from behind you. You whip around, instinctively taking a step back as your eyes land on the long-haired man staggering around in front of the club. His face is tilted downwards, staring into his empty liquor bottle almost… sadly.

But then he looks up at you. His eyes are dark with desire, mouth curving into something vile. It scares you. “Come here, darling. Come here.”

“Go away.” You try to sound unafraid. It comes out on a shaky breath, betraying the anxiety clogging up your throat. You take a few more cautious steps backwards, eyes darting between the man in front of you and the path behind you.

Your hand is already reaching for your phone in your pocket as soon as he starts stumbling towards you. Your fingers feel heavy, turned to smudge as you switch it on and desperately click on James’ contact.

“I asked you,” the man growls, “to come here!” He takes bigger, unsteady steps towards you, liquor bottle smashed to the ground without a care in the world.

Your heart feels like it’s being roped out of your throat, mind turned to mush in your head. You press your phone to your ear, turning around and mustering the quickest steps possible in your 6-inch heels. The cold is all-consuming now, tearing at your skin like wild dogs to prey. But all that’s on your mind is getting home safe. 

You’re barely a few rings in when James’ voice cuts through. “Hello? Y/n, is that you?”

“James!”

“Y/n, sweetheart. God, have you been ignoring me? I was so worried, and thought you hated me, and — “

“James.” The panic in your voice must be really palpable, because he shuts up immediately. “Yeah?”

You glance backwards for a split second as you walk ahead, seeing that the man has sped up. His arms are outreached towards you, and he’s spewing dirty lines you’d kill never to hear again. The smirk on his face widens by the second.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” James’ concerned voice comes through again, and you snap your head forwards and exhale shakily.

“You know that club really close to your place, the one with the um… the huge statue of a horse outside? I’m near there. Could you please walk over and fetch me? There’s a creep, and it’s cold, and —“

“Hold on, there’s a creep?” His worry is obvious. You hear the rustling of fabric and the flipping of switches on his end. “Are you safe?”

“Not really,” you croak honestly, sparing another look behind you to find your stalker doubled over, spilling his guts out onto the side of the road. You fasten your pace.

You can almost hear the frown in James’ voice. “Be careful, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

You hang up and pocket your phone. Your nose is running, you can’t feel your fingers where they touch your cheek. You’re numbed.

You force yourself to keep walking, chanting James’ name like a desperate prayer in your mind. Your train of thought is interrupted by the creep once again. You squeeze your eyes shut as his voice hovers by, dangerously close, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“You stupid girl, you better turn around or else I’ll —“

“You’ll what?”

Your eyes crack open immediately to find James jogging over to you, eyes locked on the figure behind you. It’s like your prayers have been answered. His gaze drifts to you, and in a second he’s got his arm wrapped around your back as he pulls you into his chest. 

“I’m asking you again, jerk. What do you think you’re gonna do to my girl?” You feel yourself melting into him with relief, letting your eyes flutter shut as you absorb the vibrations of his chest with each word he pushes out. His voice is hard, strained. A tone you’d never associate with the sweet boy holding you, but love does silly things to people sometimes. Maybe he loved you.

Your stalker mutters something unintelligible, along with a very loud, “Fuck you!” before staggering away.

James’ attention is on you instantly. He pulls away slightly to grip you by the shoulders, looking you over with a worried frown. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shake your head, teeth chattering too rapidly to give a straight answer. Your shivering doesn’t go unnoticed. He conjures up a jacket from seemingly nowhere, draping it over the back of your shoulders.

You can tell he’s trying to hold back for your sake, one hand rubbing circles into your shoulder while the other brushes strands of hair off your face. You’ve never been the type to want to be touched. But it’s exactly what you need right now, the gentle warmth of a hug that’s been wanting to be given, waiting to be received.

You lean forward and make your intent clear, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his chest. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it, immediately pulling you in and tightening his hold around you.

“You good, hon?” he says into your hair, face tilting downward to rest on the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumble, feeling the tension start to dissipate from your joints. You cling to him like a vice. “Please forget all the times where I complained about you being a hugger. Boy, did I need this.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle and starts to gently draw his hand up and down your spine. “You did? Well, I’m always glad to provide it.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, legs curling around his like you’re trying to hug him with every part of you. He stamps a kiss to the top of your head before slipping his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up till you’re wrapped around his waist. 

It earns a soft grunt from you before you’re relaxing into him, warmth seeping into your skin. He holds you with all the tenderness he would a baby.

“Your dress is lovely, by the way,” he mutters as he readjusts the jacket to cover your exposed ass. “You look absolutely lovely.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, tilting your face to rest it in the crook of his neck. 

He carries you back to his apartment, telling you all the things he’d wanted to say these past couple of days when you weren’t here for him to say it to. You decide that James is too lovely to let anxiety push away. You’ll probably phone him again sometime soon.

san’s christmas sleepover

[daemour]

I Can See You

Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn

Word Count: 10,137

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences

Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.

Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay

thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa (Bittersweet Neighbours), we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long

-

“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”

“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”

When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.

Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.

He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”

Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”

You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.

“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”

You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”

“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.

Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”

Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.

“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”

You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”

A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”

The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"

The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."

Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"

Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.

"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."

Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"

Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.

"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.

"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."

You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”

"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"

Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"

Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."

Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.

“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”

With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”

You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”

Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”

You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”

Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”

You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”

Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.

A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.

As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.

-

You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.

Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.

But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.

“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”

Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.

You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.

You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.

Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”

It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”

You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.

“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”

You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”

You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”

“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.

“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”

Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”

“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”

“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”

With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.

“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”

Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”

Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.

“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”

Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”

Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”

You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.

“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”

A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”

Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.

“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”

Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”

You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”

Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.

“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”

You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.

“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”

You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”

Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”

“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.

“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”

You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”

Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”

The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.

“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.

“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”

Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.

You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”

He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.

“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”

You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”

As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”

You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.

-

These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.

Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.

Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.

You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.

With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.

At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.

“Is that me?”

A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.

“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”

After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”

You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”

One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”

You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.

But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.

“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”

Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.

You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.

Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.

But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”

Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”

You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.

“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”

-

It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.

And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.

These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.

It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.

That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.

As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.

As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.

Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.

But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.

Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.

“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”

Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”

You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.

“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”

The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.

-

Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”

Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”

He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”

He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”

He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”

He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”

As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.

It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.

But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.

“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.

“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 

Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.

As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.

He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—

Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.

-

When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.

You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.

“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.

“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.

“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.

“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”

You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”

“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”

Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”

As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.

With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.

After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”

You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”

Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted��or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”

Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”

“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.

“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”

You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.

His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”

An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.

“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.

He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”

“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.

With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.

“Then don’t.”

Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.

“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”

You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”

Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.

You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.

“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.

The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”

You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.

As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.

And he still hasn’t come.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.

You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”

Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.

You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 

Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.

His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.

“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.

“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.

“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”

With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.

[megwritesriddles]

Tied to You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 14 - Praise & Bondage. Severus has a girlfriend and he's about as shocked as anyone about it. She brings something out in him, something loving, something experimental, but also something slightly more sinister.

Tags: Praise kink, Light bondage, Fingering, Dom!Severus, Lots of praise, Good girl, Reader is referred to as a girl a LOT, Established relationship (kinda?), Getting together, Fluff, Red flags, Possessive behaviour, Unhealthy/Toxic relationship dynamic forming, Ambiguous ending (kinda).

Word count: 3.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I can't write Severus as anything other than at least a bit of a creepy little freak, even though this is mostly normal and fluffy!! Again this includes a lot of unnecessary backstory to set the scene!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being in a relationship was a very novel concept to Severus. It wasn’t something he’d ever really thought would happen to him until recently. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it throughout his life to various degrees, but he’d always resigned himself to the fact that daydreams would be the closest he would get. However, you were very real. He’d known of you since the first year, being in his same year group he was bound to have heard your name a few times, whether on registers or from overheard gossip at the Slytherin table. 

He’d never thought of you very much at all until the sixth year when you were in the same advanced potions class as him. The class was much smaller than in previous years, full of only the highest achievers in the subject in the O.W.L.s and this is where he noticed you. You were on the quieter side in class, but whenever you were called on, you gave the correct answers. You were obviously intelligent, especially at this subject, which intrigued him as a bit of a ‘swot’ as his few friends called him. He liked that you cared about studying, much more than most of your peers seemed to. It was also quite obvious even by a glance that you were a pretty girl. Once he’d started paying a little more attention to you, he’d overheard many unsavoury comments about you by his peers, about what they might like to do to you. But, you kept yourself to yourself, frequently kindly (but firmly) turning down boys who tried to flirt with you. He admired that you weren’t above a little threat against the boys who couldn’t hear the word ‘no’. Despite your withdrawn nature, you were well known as a member of the duelling club, a high achieving one at that, and so often were able to threaten the boys into backing off.

All sixth year he’d silently admired you. When the seventh year began, he told himself he’d let go of it and focus solely on his studies, but he’d never been less focused in his life. All the feelings he’d harboured for Lily for so long latched themselves onto you, becoming much larger and more consuming. They felt like a frightening entity on their own, following him around everywhere he went, trying to pounce on you whenever you’d make small talk with him before class in the corridor, or seek him out for advice on your potions homework, even though you always seemed to actually know what you were talking about. He should have realised something was odd about this, but he was too blinded by self-hatred to see the woods from the trees. So when you confessed to having feelings for him, he’d initially just sat and stared silently at you.

You’d caught him in the library, as you had taken to doing often lately and asked to sit. He’d agreed, expecting another odd question about the homework but instead, you’d sat there chewing your lip. His eyes had strayed down to the sight a few too many times, no matter how he tried to control himself. He watched as the corners of your lips tugged up a little. 

“I have a crush on you, Severus,” you’d admitted with a shaky breath. He’d just blinked at you. “Well… crush sounds so juvenile… I fancy you? I have… feelings for you?” you continued on. “I just figured I ought to say something before it’s too late, you know?”

And that’s how he’d ended up in a relationship with you. He was so shocked at the time that he can't even remember what he’d said to you in response, and it was too late to ask. Whatever it was, it had clearly worked, as you had pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek and the next weekend, he was waiting for you at the Three Broomsticks. By the end of that evening, you’d been sitting in his lap and kissing him with a passion he had never even seen, let alone felt for himself, his arms around your waist, touching you gingerly. 

The entire school was baffled by your relationship. His friends and even several strangers asked him how the hell he had managed to ensnare you and he had no answer for any of them even if he wanted to, he couldn’t understand it either. One day he believes he will never be in a relationship in his life, and the next, the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts is hanging off of his arm for all to see. He’s surprised how unashamed you are, not only to be dating him but with public displays of affection. You always hook your arm around his as you walk, kiss his cheek as a goodbye, sit in his lap in the library and sneak his hand up your thigh. Sex. That’s the part of all this that seems the craziest to him because all of a sudden he has an active sex life. You’re all over him, and as much as it makes his head spin, he’s always willing to indulge you. 

The first time you’d brought him into your dorm, he hadn’t known what was going on until you were stripping him down. Of course, you’d asked him several times if you could proceed, but he had just blindly agreed because he would let you do anything. He hadn’t told you he was a virgin until after you were done, even though he knew you knew, if from nothing else, from his very speedy performance. You’d been very sweet about it, as you were about everything, and snuggled up to him, falling asleep in his arms. No one had ever felt so safe around him before. He wanted desperately to keep you in his arms forever, and when you got up in the morning, he almost held you hostage but ended up playing it off as a joke. You’d just giggled at him and told him he’d be the cutest captor in the world, which he laughed off, but the thought crossed his mind.

He was having the most sex out of everyone in his dorm, which would have been completely unfathomable only a few months ago. It surprised him how voracious you were, you’d always seemed rather meek, yet you were dragging him away at least once a day if not more. It was a surprise that he loved. You’d created a monster, a monster that constantly loomed over his time with you. He wasn’t sure how he would ever cope if this relationship ended, not only emotionally, but also having gotten used to such frequent sexual activity. There was hardly anyone else who would ever be willing to indulge him, and you loved to, which made it a thousand times better. He felt desirable to you, a feeling he’d been inadvertently chasing his entire life. He was never going to let you go. Ever. 

You didn’t seem to realise how serious he was when he told you as such. You’d giggle and peck his cheeks and tell him in a sweet little voice that you’d never let him go either, but he knew you didn’t mean it quite like he did. You enjoyed his possessive streak, loving the way his arm would slip around you when a boy would stare, marking you all over as his. As baffling as it was to everyone, there was no confusion about the fact you were taken, constantly covered in little lovebites, his hands on you whenever they could be. He’d adjust your skirts and button up your tops, softly whispering how this skin was for his eyes only now. As he gained more confidence in public displays of affection with you, he’d grip your thigh in a possessive gesture under the table, and kiss at your neck in front of others, a reminder of who left those marks there. 

Severus was always up for anything that you recommended in the bedroom, surprisingly experimental despite his rigid routines during the day. You played around often, trying new things, different dynamics, different positions, and introducing various aids. As time went on, you could tell he was coming into himself as a more dominant presence, his initial nerves and shyness wearing off as he got used to you and the idea that you truly did like him and desired him. You were happy to submit to him and let yourself go with whatever he wanted from you. Every part of him was long and lithe and elegant, exploring parts of you that had never been touched before, deep within you. He loved to watch you come undone, taking immense satisfaction in the knowledge of his effects on you, effects he thought he’d never have on anyone. He worships you in the most sinful ways, and you worship him in return. Your roommates all hate the both of you, no matter how many silencing charms you cast. 

You’re a little anxious when Severus heads to Hogsmeade alone one weekend, no matter how much he insists he’s only buying you a present. You’ve barely been apart for more than classes since your relationship began, and while you doubt he’s off cheating on you, the distance still makes you unreasonably anxious. You pounce on him when he returns, telling him how much you missed him, not spotting his smug smile against your shoulder. He rubs your back and assures you he felt similarly while he was away, which he did, he’d been desperate to get back to you, for many reasons. He gives you a little box, housing a little silver necklace that he’d gone to fetch from Hogsmeade for you. It has a little ‘S’ as the pendant, his initial, another means with which to stake claim over you. He clasps it behind your neck and you’re all smiles as you declare how much you love it. Then you notice another little bag.

“Is that for your other girlfriend?” you joke, pouting a little. He laughs, kissing your cheek. 

“No, it’s for you my love, but we have to be alone for me to show you,” he guides you up to his dorm which is currently empty, most of his dormmates now avoid the space whenever they can because of the two of you. He brings you to his bed to sit in his lap and closes the curtains around you. You giggle, fascinated to see what he’s got, already making a few mental guesses. 

Although it hadn’t popped into your head as a guess, the small spool of rope makes sense as he pulls it from the bag. He explains that it’s a soft cotton material that is both sturdy and comfortable. He doesn’t have to tell you what it’s for, you already know, and you’re willing to give it a go, the idea already exciting you a little. He can tell from the way you begin to rub your thighs together slightly. He’s become fluent in your body language over the course of your relationship, by now he’s sure he could write the dictionary. He grins at you.

“So sweet already getting all excited,” he whispers, his voice deep and silky. You love the authoritative tone he uses to speak to you when he wants to be in charge like this, it makes your thighs clench even more. “Now come on, my love, how would you like your hands tied?” he enquires softly, rubbing a hand over your thigh. After a short period of deliberation between the two of you, he lies you down against the bed and starts slowly popping open the buttons of your shirt one by one, making his way down to untuck it from your skirt. He pushes the shirt open and down, palms smoothing over your bare shoulders. You sit up for a moment to let the shirt fall away completely and so that he can reach around you to unhook your bra more easily. Once he’s pulled the bra away from you, you lie back down. “Good girl, my beautiful girl,” he praises, gently folding your shirt up and placing it onto the ground, then setting your bra on top of it. He taps your hips, urging you to lift them, gently sliding down your skirt, followed by your underwear. His need for you is mounting, folding these items a little more haphazardly before he places them on the ground by the others. He gently holds your legs apart, rubbing a hand up and down your thighs. “You like the idea of being tied up for me?” he chuckles, seeing you already glistening with want. You nod and he hums. “Aren’t you just perfect? My perfect girl,” he coos, leaning down to pepper kisses on your stomach for a moment before sitting back up. You watch him eagerly, yearning for him to give you what you want. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists and lifts them over your head, reaching for the length of rope. “Is this alright? Your arms aren’t stretching too much?”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure, watching as he starts carefully threading the rope around your wrists in figure-eights. 

“I read up on how to do this, let’s hope I get it on the first try,” he smiles down at you. You giggle in return. He fusses for a little while, adjusting and readjusting so it’s not too tight, but that you can’t slip out of the restraints either. You’re sure he’s being a perfectionist about it like he is about most things, so you wait patiently. Once he’s happy, he sits back and looks at you, in all your naked glory, lying there tied up and waiting for him. He shivers and groans. “Merlin… You look like an angel, my beautiful perfect girl,” he leans down and leaves open-mouthed kisses along your neck, reinforcing several fading hickies he’s left on you before. You moan softly and squirm beneath him, pulling at your restraints without meaning to, feeling the need to touch him. You’re surprised how quickly you feel the need to use your hands and he just smirks at you. “Be good for me and don’t fight your restraints, won’t you?” he murmurs. You nod weakly, ceasing your movements and taking a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as his lips and hands explore your body at a torturous pace. His lips kiss patterns around and between your breasts slowly, leaving a litany of little marks behind to mark his territory, his hands slowly sliding up and down your hips and waist. “Your body is absolutely exquisite, I don’t tell you that enough, my love, sculpted by the gods, all for me,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another lovebite into the side of your breast. The praise flusters you, part of you wants to argue, but you adore the idea of him truly seeing you that way, and you believe he does. He continues to press deliberate kisses across your chest, his eyes shut in prayer. His hands brush your stomach, teasing you by skimming low and withdrawing. You sigh needily and feel him nip your skin in response. “Tell me what you want,” he orders softly.

“I want your fingers inside me,” you answer breathily, writhing a little but making sure to keep your hands still. You feel him smile and nip the skin of your sternum, by your fluttering heart. 

“That’s my girl, always so direct,” he chuckles, sitting up and spreading your legs once more. He gasps softly. “Oh… you must really be liking being at my mercy, hm? Dripping wet for me,” he smiles, rubbing the soft skin of your inner thigh. His genuine smile is a rarity, he’s usually so stoic and serious, that the sight of it makes you whimper for him. Oh, how crazy he drives you. “Shhh, wait like a good girl, I know you can wait, you’re more than capable,” you pout up at him and he smiles again.“Those perfect pouty lips,” he leans down and gives you a soft sensual kiss, his fingertips tracing patterns up your thigh as he kisses you. You want to wrap your arms around him, to slide your hand in his trousers, but instead, you pull pathetically at your ropes for a moment before giving up and focusing on kissing him. His fingers nudge gently at your folds, making you spread your legs further eagerly. The tip of his index finger slides up and down between your folds, gathering wetness and using it to help circle your sensitive nub. You whine softly against his lips. “Good girl, you sound so beautiful when I make you feel good,” he praises. He leisurely slides a finger into you, which you accommodate easily due to your high state of arousal. His lithe fingers reach places you’d never even realised you’d had before your relationship with him, gently stimulating the tender spongy spot within you that makes your hips buck. He adds another finger, making you gasp and moan softly. He strokes your walls for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch, which doesn’t take too long in the state you’re in. You stare up into his eyes, silently begging him to move his fingers, he grins back at you, his nose bumping yours affectionately. “What is it, my love?” you whine at his playful innocence, he gets like this sometimes, all smug and teasing, a monster that you had created.

“M-move them, please,” you pant, tugging uselessly at your restraints. He gives you a pointed look and you stop. 

“Okay, but you have to keep being good for me, I know you can,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, slowly withdrawing his fingers and pressing them back in. You mewl softly, digging your heels into the plush mattress. His fingers move slowly and expertly from months of memorising your body, pushing up against that tender spot with each thrust. The room fills with vulgar wet sounds and Severus finally thinks to cast a silencing spell with his free hand. You blush, both at the realisation you hadn’t been silenced, but also at the nonchalant way he does magic while moving his fingers inside you. It’s oddly hot and he feels you fluttering around his fingers. “What is it, sweet girl? What made you throb?” he enquires, kissing your jaw. You giggle breathlessly, his fingers still working you.

“Just you,”

“I’m flattered, my love,” he purrs. “You’re so perfect for me, aren’t you? My dream girl, my perfect girl,” he mumbles between kisses against your skin, his fingers speeding up, making you whimper and squirm. He sits up, his movements never ceasing, to look over you. Your hands tied sends a possessive thrill through him, the more innocent thought that you trust him like this, and the more dangerous idea to keep you like this. “Look at you,” he hums. “You look divine, all flushed and needy for me,” he punctuates his sentence by beginning to circle his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You choke out a moan, your eyes closing for a moment. “You’re doing so well, my love, good girl, you must be getting close,”

“Y-yeah,” you moan, your back arching slightly.

“You always look so beautiful when you come,” he muses, intensifying his movements. Your moans pick up, louder and more frequent, your hands tensing and untensing in the restraints, wishing to grab onto something but unable to do anything but dig your nails into your palms. “That’s it, let yourself go, be a good girl for me like I know you are,” he coaxes. “Let me feel you come on my fingers, let me feel your pussy clench,” you gasp at his lewd words, your head growing fuzzier. It only takes a few more moments and you fall apart, your whole body shivering and going warm. You cry out his name in desperation, nails digging into your palms, back arching up off of the bed. He keeps going relentlessly, feeling you clenching around his fingers, driving you to the point of near insanity, wailing in pleasure before he finally slows down his ministrations. “You were so good, my love, so beautiful, I’m so proud of you,” he leans down, kissing across your chest once more, slowly withdrawing his fingers. You whine softly, your chest heaving under his lips as you struggle to regain your breath, your heart pounding under your skin. “That’s it, calm down for me,” he soothes, kissing up to your mouth and pressing a lingering kiss to your parted lips. “How was that?”

“Yeah, good, very good,” you laugh breathlessly. He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your nose with his own.

“Did being tied up make it better?”

“In some ways, it felt more intense, more submissive than I usually am, but I did miss touching you,” you explain quietly. He nods along in understanding. “But I’ll happily do it again, I just need some recovery time,” you smile sheepishly, and he kisses your cheek. 

“I understand, my love, you’ve been a very good girl, no more tonight, my perfect girl must be tired,” he hums. He leans up and loosens your restraints, placing placating kisses on your wrists where the rope had been rubbing slightly, but he doesn’t entirely remove the rope, just gently massaging your wrists with his thumbs for a moment.

“Are you going to untie me?” you ask playfully. He pauses for a moment, thinking, before fiddling with the rope again. He secures your wrists to the headboard of his bed, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “You said no more tonight,”

“I know, my love, and I stick to it, but I think I’ll keep you here anyway,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[666kuna]

Dilf! Sukuna would be one of those guys that defend women in danger+ would also be so bad at rizzing girls up that he just sounds desperate and pathetic[endearing]

“You’re the new teacher? I didn’t know they hired young girls these days. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d be the reason my son is getting his abc’s” he says as he looks at you up and down savoring every curve and line of your

You gave the parent a benefit of the doubt and took whatever he said as a compliment all while returning his “compliment” with an awkward chuckle.

“Thank you…”

“Say…if you come by my house and give some private lessons for him I’m more than capable to pay you more than the school does” he says smirking hiding the perversed meaning behind his shit request.

It’s the first time some weird parent tries to pull this type of behaviour on you the whole interaction leaves you in shock as you smile awkwardly trying to find the right words to respond and the patience to not punch him in the face. Your heart beats rapidly with your fists turning clammy and white from anxiety of not knowing what or how to respond to the fool of a parent.

“MISS Y/N I MISSED YOUUUUU” a familiar pink haired kid comes running as he gives you a hug. Shocked was an understatement by you were more than grateful for Yuuji to intervene.

“you know me and your teacher were having a conversation don’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to interrupt adults” The random parent says giving Yuuji a fake smile.

“Yeah? I’m the parent.” Sukuna says curtly with the most unamused expression known to man.

The male turns around to take a look at whoever the parent of the funky insolent child only to be greeted by a 6’5 fully tatted male who looked like he was more than capable to break his bones with just a simple flick. It also didn’t help the fact that Sukuna’s aura(lol) was more than threatening enough on its own without having to say a single word.

“I guess kids these days don’t learn enough manners I’ll take my leave for now” the inferior male says gulping as he puts up a front before scrunching up his face as he walks away.

Sukuna glares daggers at the stupid fool making sure he leaves the vicinity.

A huge breath of relief was let out as you kneeled down onto Yuuji’s height thanking him and his scarily hot dad for saving you from whatever the situation was.

“You guys have no idea how thankful i am, Yuuji you and your dad literally saved me”

“WE KNOWWWW, Hiro’s dad is a bit creepy” Yuuji says happily as he brings out a couple of souvenirs from his summer trip with his family to you before running into the building excitedly leaving you and his dad alone.

“Did he ask you if you for private lessons?” Sukuna asks with a smug smile

“Yes- what how did you know?!”

“He’s a douche and a weirdo he says that to every new teacher even the volunteers. I hope you’re okay after that interaction” Sukuna scoffs annoyed at the male’s behaviour. Knowing that Sukuna at his prime would’ve beaten the hell out of the weirdo for making women uncomfortable.

“I’m fine honestly I wish I could return the favour i don’t even know what i would’ve done if you and Yuuji didn’t come by” you say in a appreciative tone

Sukuna upon hearing this immediately takes the opportunity to ask you on something that has been on the back of his mind from the moment he laid eyes on you.

“You can return the favour by coming by my place for dinner I’ll cook, I can even pick you up just let me know when you’re free” he says in the spur of the moment not noticing he sounds like a desperate, desperate man.

You were so shocked at Sukuna’s abrupt response to the point you could literally feel the heat rising onto your cheeks making you smile sheepishly before bursting out in laughter.

“I didn’t think you would ask me that, but im free anytime on Saturday is it fine with you?”

“Saturday? Perfect” he says grinning as he sees you walking away he came to his senses realising he forgot to ask for your number

“You didn’t give me your number” he says from afar

It was your turn to leave him into the flustering mess. You smirked looking back at the giant of a male waiting for your response.

“I have yours don’t worry i’ll text you later” you say playfully.

It was true you do have his number. You’ve saved it from the moment he sent Yuuji on the first day.

Sukuna was lucky enough he didn’t have whatever his dad had cause frankly Sukuna would’ve probably gone into cardiac arrest with that statement alone. With that it is settled Yuuji will be sent off to Toji’s house for a sleepover while his dad gets straight to business.

Edit:not proofread was done when im literally ten secons awya from asleep i appoliguse for shit writing

[riordanness]

false god — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.3K

warnings: you have a creepy stalker

I run through the shopping centre, dodging stalls and seats and weaving through people. My breath is a little too shallow, my heart rate a little too quick. I’m panicking.

Suddenly, I spot a boy with scruffy dark hair and a simple outfit of a blue hoodie and jeans. He’s outside the bookstore, with what looks like a Greek mythology book in his hands.

I’m not necessarily the best at judging people’s character, but he seems… moderately safe. Definitely safer than what’s chasing me.

I dash up to the boy, grab his arm to get his attention.

“Hi,” I gasp out, breathless. “Um—“

He looks confused, sea-green eyes flickering at me in question.

“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for a sec?” I ask quickly.

The boy looks (somehow) even more confused now. “Can I… what now?”

“Please?” I add desperately. “There’s this creep following me around the mall, and—“

The boy doesn’t wait to hear more. He grabs my hand confidently and laces his fingers through mine. He seems to notice that my hand is shaking and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

“So, sweetheart,” he says, a little too loudly, pulling me deeper into the little bookstore. “What do you think of this Greek mythology book I was thinking of buying?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the creep approaching us, getting closer and closer.

“Oh, yes,” I say to the boy, and I realise I don’t even know his name. “I love this one. I had it when I was little. It’s great.”

“It’s not very accurate,” the boy mutters, his sea green eyes flitting over the story about Kronos and Zeus.

“Huh?” I forget what’s happening for a second and laugh. “How do you know it’s not accurate? What—you know them personally?”

The boy doesn’t reply, so I drop the subject.

“So um,” I lower my voice. “Thank you for doing this by the way.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Y/n.” My voice is still quiet.

“Percy. Percy Jackson.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Percy Percy Jackson,” I say playfully.

Percy rolls his eyes at me, but he’s got a stupid grin on his face. “Ha, ha,” he says, sliding the Greek Mythology book back on the shelf. “So, do you think he’s gone?”

I shrug. He’s definitely not inside this small bookstore; I would’ve seen him. But he might still be outside.

“Are you here alone?” Percy asks.

I nod. “Yeah. That’s why I—you know.”

“Yeah,” he says, his grip on my hand tightening a little, like a protective gesture. It somehow makes my heart flutter a little in my chest.

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.” Percy glances down at me, then starts to talk normally again. “You hungry?”

I smile. “Actually, yeah, a little.”

“Alright.” He pulls me along, our hands still entangled. Percy leads me to a pretty little cafe, all decorated in mint green. He pulls a chair out for me, and I sit. Once Percy has slid into the seat opposite, he flashes me a smile.

“You see him anywhere?”

I glance behind me, and then shake my head. “Maybe he’s gone.”

“We’ll see.” Percy slides a menu over to me. “Whatcha want? I’ll go order.”

“Um, just a hot chocolate, and one of those cookies with the Smarties in them.” I dig around in my pocket, pulling out a ten-dollar note.

When I try to hand it to Percy, though, he gives me a look. “Dude,” he says.

“What?” I ask, surprised.

“You think I’m seriously gonna let you pay? Dumbass.” He closes my fingers back over the money. “You’re my fake girlfriend. I’m paying.”

Before I can argue, or even comprehend what he just said, he’s out of his chair and heading to the counter to order.

When he comes back, he has a little, cheeky smile on his face.

I give him a look. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Percy shrugs. “I wanted to. Don’t argue.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiles. “So. Tell me about my fake girlfriend.”

I laugh softly. “She’s kind of boring, honestly. She likes to read, do crafts sometimes. Spends way too much time on her phone. Apparently attracts creeps.”

“She sounds pretty cool to me,” Percy says, a grin on his face again.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“So, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.” My finger traces over the cracks in the wooden tabletop.

“What made you pick me?”

I glance up, his question surprising me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, for the fake boyfriend thing.” Percy is a little flushed, clearly embarrassed by what he’s asking me. “There are tons of boys around, and heck, girls too, I don’t know what you’re into. What made you choose me?”

“Oh.” Now I’m a little flushed. “Well, honestly? You looked safe.”

That answer seems to surprise him in the best kind of way a person can be surprised. A shy smile grows on his face, and his sea green eyes get even prettier as they shine at me. “Really?” he asks. “I looked… safe?”

“Yeah.” I shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know how to explain it, really.”

Percy’s smile gets even wider. “You know, that’s pretty much the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised. “Well, I’m glad. It’s the truth. And you seem to be holding up that assumption so far.”

“I still seem safe?”

“Mhm.” I nod my head.

Just then, the waitress brings our order over. She places a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a Smartie cookie in front of me, and the same in front of Percy. Once we thank her and she walks away, I grin at Percy.

“You copied my order.”

“It sounded good.” He shrugs. “Besides, can’t drink coffee.”

“Why not?” I tilt my head at him slightly.

He waves his hand in the air. “I’ve got ADHD, it like, puts me to sleep or whatever. Makes me super tired.”

I smile. “Hey, that’s the exact same for me. I literally have to drink coffee before bed.”

Percy laughs. “Cool. I thought I was the only one.”

I smile, breaking off a piece of the cookie and popping it in my mouth. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of your plans when I pulled you into this, by the way?”

He raises an eyebrow, a marshmallow in his mouth. “Huh? Plans?”

I shrug. “Like, I dunno. Were you shopping with someone? Meeting up with your girlfriend?”

Percy laughs, and almost chokes on his marshmallow. “Gods, no. I was shopping alone. I don’t have a girlfriend.” He then seems to recover his wits and adds, with a cheeky smile: “Except you, of course.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Yeah, okay. That’s good. I worried for a second there I messed up your shopping or something.”

“Not at all,” Percy assures me. “And hey, after we finish eating, I’ll give you a lift home, just to be completely safe.”

“Thank you, Percy, I really appreciate it.”

“Course, sweetheart,” he says easily, popping another marshmallow in his mouth.

“Hey!” I protest. “That was my one!”

“My bad,” he says, his voice muffled and his mouth still full.

I want to roll my eyes, but I just kind of smile.

“This is kind of fun,” Percy says. “Too bad it’s fake.”

I give him a slightly confused look. “What?”

“This.” He gestures between the two of us. “Kind wish you weren’t my fake girlfriend.”

I blink. “You—huh?”

“Gods, how obvious do I have to be?” Percy teases. “Y/n, will you go on a real date with me sometime?”

I flush, then smile. “I’d love to.”