#if he goes too deep into one side...... it could kill him

[g00d--m0urning]

Final Destination: Your House (CH. 6)

You finally get to the bottom about what's been going on with everybody.

(A/N: I'm going on vacay tomorrow and I'll be gone until Wednesday. I still plan on writing, but I don't know what we have planned, so just in case I'm too busy, I don't want to disappear)

(current list of planned in depth apology/make-up one-shots: Abel, Celia, Daisuke. Dorian, Curt&Rod (request), Eddie&Volt, Skylar, Tony, Jacque (request), Johnny (request), Hector (request), Betty (request), Mac (request), Tina (request), Kristof (request), Hanks (request))

The dateables wait and wait for you to put the dateviators back on, watching with bated breath each time you pass them, but you never do. Days go by without getting to speak with you and it’s killing them. 

Everybody knows they messed up and they want to make up for it! However, they can’t make up for it if you never speak to them again. There’s no telling who’s more distressed over the fact. Skylar is falling apart, Eddie and Volt have had several spark outs, Tony is breaking his back trying to fix things out of guilt, even Telly is starting to worry and he didn’t even do anything!

The house is falling apart and it’s your fault! Before you got those godforsaken glasses, everybody was perfectly fine without being acknowledged by you and now they can’t function without you. 

------------

It’s peaceful without having all of your house alive. You almost forgot what it was like making breakfast without chatting up your appliances, or walking through doors without making some sort of teasing comment. It’s hard to tell how you feel about it. 

You’re loading laundry into Washford when the power flickers, nothing to be terribly concerned about, presumably a dead light bulb. It goes again, longer this time, as you get Washford started. There’s an annoying feeling of concern eating at your nerves and you can’t help but wonder if Volt and Eddie are ok. 

It happens two more times before you crack. The whole way up the stairs is spent debating whether or not you should be doing this; speaking with them might make things worse, if they even talk to you in the first place. 

You stand in front of the breaker box, dateviators clutched in your hand. With shaky hands, you turn them on, slowly settling them on your face. You step into the Breaker Box, looking around the deserted bar.

“Eddie? Volt?” 

------------

The duo freezes at the sound of your voice, already choking up. They’ve never heard a sweeter sound. Immediately, they drop what they were doing, finding you in the main area. You’re really there, standing only a few feet from them.

“Livewire?” Volt steps out from the shadows first, a deep set frown on his normally beaming face.

Eddie follows shortly behind him, setting down the rag he had in his hands onto the bar, “You came.” 

------------

“You flickered,” you shrug slightly, brushing their surprise off like it’s nothing, “It was kind of annoying… I… was also worried, so… Yeah.”

Your lips turn up just enough to clue them in on the fact that you’re teasing. It’s awkward and stiff, but it's something. “Are you guys ok?”

Both of them seem to deflate at the question, tension leaving their body by the minute. Volt gestures at the booth you always sit in, sliding into the left side, along with Eddie. You sit opposite of them, waiting for them to start.

“We’re ok,” Eddie is the first one to speak.

“No we’re not,” Volt corrects him, shooting his partner a look you can’t decipher, “nobody is.”

“What do you mean ‘nobody’?” you ask, head turning side-to-side in search of somebody else in the bar, expecting somebody else to pop up, out of the shadows. 

“You don’t see it, do you?” Eddie scoffs, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “How could you? Considering you haven’t put those dumbass glasses on in days.”

Volt stomps on Eddie’s foot, making the wire man grunt, elbowing Volt in retaliation, “What Eddie means, livewire, is that the house is a mess without you.”

Guilt burns the back of your throat like the nasty oil you guzzle with Hoove; you figured they’d all be fine without you around. They were before, “I’m not going to apologize,” you finally tell them. You’re tired of apologizing.

“No one expects you to,” Volt nods, setting his hands on the table, yearning to reach for you.

“Good,” you nod, eyes flitting from his hands to his face. You don’t take them. “Why?” is all you ask, looking between the pair. 

“That’s not for us to answer, spark. It is our wrong doing to apologize for, though. And please know, we are truly sorry,” Volt answers, placing his hands in his lap.

“... I’m sorry, livewire,” Eddie whispers. His eyes gleam in the low light with what you’d guess tears, if you didn’t know any better.

“I need time,” you respond, swallowing the lump in your throat, sliding out of the booth, “but thank you.”

Both of them stand up with you, nodding their heads solemnly, “That’s more than alright, livewire,” Volt assures, stepping forward before realizing what he was trying to do, taking a half-step back. 

You smile half-heartedly, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to each man’s cheek, “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

The kiss seemingly lights a fire under them, smiles gracing both of their faces, “Of course, spark. You take care too,” Volt says first, Eddie echoing the sentiment soon after. 

There’s a weight off your chest when you leave, feeling less like you have to drag your feet the whole way. With a renewed pep in your step, and a mission to get to the end of this, you set out for Celia’s office. If it’s not Eddie and Volt’s to share, then it has to be her’s. 

------------

Word spread quickly that you put the dateviators back on, so Celia has been prepping her speech. She’s thrown out idea after idea, but nothing feels right. One apologizes too much without addressing the problem, the other does the opposite. Nothing feels right.

The door to her office opens, revealing you standing in the doorway, “I’ve been expecting you,” she tells you, pulling a chair out for you, not stepping back until you’re settled.

Celia sighs softly, sitting down in the chair next to you, facing you head on, “There’s someone else who I think needs to be included in this conversation,” she tells you, leaning over her desk and requesting Florence to send in her guest.

Skylar walks in, unable to meet your eyes as she sits down in the chair next to Celia, “Hi,” she murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Thank you for joining us, Skylar,” Celia says, smiling politely at Skylar, “Would you like me to start or shall you?”

“I want to say it,” Skylar whispers, finally looking up at you. She’s been crying, her eyes puffy behind her glasses, “I’m so sorry, everything that’s happened has been my fault.”

------------

You’re unsure how to react when Skylar drops that bomb. Is it her fault? What’s she mean it’s her fault? She holds her hands up, signaling for you to let her continue before asking questions.

“I’m the reason everyone’s been avoiding you. It was my idea; after movie night, I got so freaked out over the documentary that I suggested we all leave you alone, so you wouldn’t get hurt,” she says through sobs, gasping as she tries to compose herself, “Please don’t hate me.”

There’s a lot to unpack there and you don’t know where to start. It’s shocking to learn that everybody’s behavior is partially Skylar’s fault- she can’t take the entire blame, everyone played a role in this. Especially over something as trivial as a… “Documentary?”

“Yes, documentary. You can save us the lecture, however. Telly has already informed us that our intentions, while well meaning, were… A bit misplaced,” Celia cuts in, setting a hand on Skylar’s back.

The world fades around you, a faint buzzing filling your ears. You bend over, shoulders shaking slightly, “Oh, my god,” you mumble. All of this, the panic attacks, everyone’s behavior is because they thought Final Destination was a documentary. 

You can’t tell if that makes the situation worse or better. On one hand, they were doing it to protect you, on the other, nobody even thought to talk to you.

“Are you laughing or crying?” Celia questions, eyeing you worriedly.

“I don’t know,” you exclaim, pressing your palms into your eyes. It’s both: you’re crying and laughing, “I need to go,” you tell them, standing up.

“Please don’t go,” Skylar pleads, grabbing your arm, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we were idiots.”

“You were! None of you talked to me! Did you ever plan on telling me or were you just going to let me think you all hated me?” you ask, yanking your arm from her grip.

“We thought it was for the best!” she retorts, reaching for you again, but you don’t let her grab you again.

“I get that, I do, but you thought wrong,” you yell back, wiping your tears off with your sleeve, “I need time to think about this, Sky. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Promise,” she steps back, biting down on her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Promise,” you confirm, taking the dateviators off after.

You stagger to your bed, collapsing onto the mattress in a mess of tears. All of this, over a movie, over a grade-A miscommunication. 

Tomorrow. It’ll be fixed tomorrow, for better or for worse.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Maybe call show Stan, reboot cubed?

Reboot x3?

ANYWAYS THAT AU SOUNDS SO COOL!

Is Questiony Soos? Or is he some random kid who got taken along the ride?

Also how does Tate feel about his mom changing?

How does Shifty fit in this au?

Triple Time Reboot is i think I was calling it? For the three of them, since it's a reboot of a show but Fords also just tike traveling.

Questiony is Soos! He's Stan's sidekick (who was veering towards a 'redemption' arc (becoming a full hero instead of a side kick, with support of og Mr. Mystery) before the original Mr. Mystery got killed off when the show turned dark and then 180d into becoming a real threat? Stan needs to save this innocent little kids future. Too bad he cannot get rid of him).

I'm thinking Tates fairly young, maybe four or five ish? So for a kid that young you don't really realize your parents have their own individual lives, and in his view mom just got really excited about her new job and his parents started getting along better (because Emma-May hardly talks to Fiddleford (she forgets she's married), so doesn't yell at him for disappearing all the time). A little sad mom doesn't play like she used to (I'm thinking og Emma-May was a house wife here, and now Fiddlefords picking up the slack at home while Emma-May goes to work, leading to both of them bringing Tate to work when it's their time to 'watch' him (Emma-May knows Fiddlefords a super hero, he has no idea she's moonlighting as a villain. He thinks she's going to night school to get a degree).

I'm thinking shifty was originally a goofy mimic monster introduced midway in the show before it turned grim, causing chaos because he didn't understand people and was copying but not understanding, then became one of the big threats when Bill twisted him into a perfect murderous shapeshifter. Ford didn't find shifty in the og run, so here his goal was to wipe him put before he could become a threat.

Too bad he was one of Emma-Mays favorite characters she obsessively watched and deep dived to find every scrap of info she could, then sprinted to his hatch site to scoop his egg up before it could hatch alone, then forced Stan to coparent with her as she's got a civilian identity with a husband and son and Stan's character was living in abandoned buildings before Stan got enough funds to get an actual lair.

[creepyclothdoll]

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

[ebodebo]

shoot to kill mini series | vol. l guard dog

more

creepy ex bf

imagine your ex-boyfriend being so annoying, spamming your phone, and randomly showing up at your apartment, begging you to give him yet another chance.

at first, you felt pity for the guy.

even thought of letting him in a couple of times.

you didn't, but the guilt that gnawed at your throat nearly became too much to bare.

your hand drifted eerily close to the handle as you heard his pleas through your door.

the only thing that made you come back to reality was the pounding of a broom stick on the floor beneath, shouting for the man to shut the fuck up.

that was some days ago, but now, instead of feeling pity or guilt, you’re starting to feel just plain creeped out.

scared he might act on impulse and break into your apartment in the depths of the night.

you're sleeping has taken a plummet, even with a knife by your bed, nothing seems to coax you into relaxation.

that is, until you have the brilliant idea to go next door to your tall, scary, military neighbor, who goes by simon.

you don't know his last name; hell you barely knew his first.

the only reason you knew it was because you heard some girl he brought home moan it through your thin connecting walls.

you felt guilty as you pulled out your small vibrator, goading your sweet release as you heard him groan and curse with every harsh thrust.

even the guilt that swirled in your stomach couldn’t take away the guttural effects he was having on your body, even from so far away.

you ducked your head, avoiding his gaze from then on, until one day, while having trouble unlocking your apartment door, he trudged to your door after examining you for a moment, gently scooting you away and fixing it right before your eyes.

you claimed he was a magician.

he chuckled, deep and gruff, before his name fell off his tongue in greeting, making your thighs clench together.

you hurriedly introduced yourself, before rushing into your apartment, shutting the door behind you, and sinking onto the ground with a deep sigh and hot skin.

pathetic, really.

but, he didn't mind.

he thought you were cute—odd but cute—and you brought him cookies the next day as a thank you, so how could he think ill of you?

so if anyone could help you, it was simon.

“hey, neighbor,” you greet him when he opens the door. he is wearing a simple black long sleeve shirt and dark cargo pants.

he nods towards you. “hello.”

you smile brightly at him, somewhat forgetting your dilemma.

he tilts his head to the side, quipping a brow. “any particular reason you’re here?” he asks, voice rough as always.

you rock on your heels, fidgeting with your fingers. “i need your help.”

he leans against the doorframe. “go on.”

“i’m sure you’ve heard that guy that comes around,” you start, watching his squinted eyes.

“who hasn’t? that bastard is always here,” he says gruffly.

“he’s my ex,” you admit, cringing.

simon stiffens, eyes opening wider slightly.

“he’s, uh… become an issue. he won’t leave me alone, and i’m scared he’s going to break into my apartment while i’m sleeping,” you say, shaking your head, the tension in your voice evident.

“he’s not going to do that,” he shrugs.

your eyes widen at his dismissal, feeling slightly hurt. “how do you know?”

he turns to grab a backpack off a hook beside him. “because i’ll be there. won’t let him through the door,” he casually mutters as he steps out of his apartment, closing it behind him.

you feel a flutter in your stomach at his taking on the role of your protector so quickly��no enticement necessary.

“i really appreciate it, simon.” your voice is full of gratitude.

“don’t mention it, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, heading towards your door. “key?” he asks, reaching for your painted key hanging around your neck.

you hurriedly lean forward, mind completely fogging at the endearment.

his lip quips as he tugs the key up and over your head to unlock the door.

once he unlocks the door, he pushes the door wide open, stepping aside for you to go in first.

“and they say chivalry is dead,” you can’t help but joke as you slip in, a teasing glint in your eye.

he matches your humorous smile with one of his own. “do they? hadn’t heard that,” he murmurs, closing the door as he steps in.

you spin your head away from his gaze, opting to stare at a lonesome flower pot with a dumb grin on your face.

the next two hours are spent lazing until you find yourself on the cushion right next to simon on the couch as he occasionally glanced at the door, while you picked and prodded at reality show stars on the television screen.

But you and simon both stiffen when you hear the familiar hard knock on the front door, followed by a strained male voice pleading.

you look at simon who's already stalking over to the door; you uncross your legs and walk behind him.

with annoyance, simon pulls open the door, and you see your ex’s face whiten and his body sag at the sight. “can we help you?” simon gruffs, cocking a brow at his pathetic demeanor.

your ex stammers, stumbling over his words as he looks between you and simon. “who the fuck are you?” your ex demands, though not daring to try and overpower simon because simon easily has fifty pounds and eight inches over him.

simon crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging bigger as he does so. “you should lose this address,” he urges, voice so gruff and commanding it sends shivers down your spine. “i don’t take too kindly to guys stalking my girlfriend,” he says with an ease that makes you lick your drying lips.

“girlfriend?” your ex chokes out, unable to comprehend what he is hearing.

“that’s what i said, isn’t it?” simon almost sounds disinterested.

your ex’s eyes wander to you. “you're dating this guy?” he almost sounds hurt.

you shift under his gaze, feeling awkward.

“don't talk to her. talk to me,” simon interjected, feeling your unease.

“you can’t—you aren’t dating,” your ex begins, narrowing his eyes. “you’re just doing this to make me jealous, aren’t you?” there is venom behind his words that pisses simon off.

simon’s lips flatline, and just as you go to speak, simon turns his head, hand coming to cup your jaw to kiss you deeply, possessively.

your ex releases a short breath as the sight.

simon’s tongue moves across to skim your teeth, making you whine into his mouth, as his fingers tangle in your hair for deeper contact.

you release a shallow whimper of protest as simon pulls back, enjoying the sight of your ex so shell-shocked.

simon tilts his head forward, looking into his eyes intently. “this is my girl, and if i find out you’ve been botherin’ her, i’ll make you a dead man. you hear me?” his voice is so lethal it makes you squirm, but in a completely different way than your ex.

your ex’s eyes look like saucers as he nods his head fervently.

“good choice. now leave,” simon instructs.

without another word, your ex spins on his heels, looking like a hurt lamb as he leaves the complex.

simon lets out a dry laugh as he shuts the door behind him.

“thank you,” you murmur.

he gives you a brief smile, gesturing for you to sit back on the couch. you both go back to lazing around, now watching some cooking show you put on.

later that night, he insisted on setting up shop in your living room for the night… or just the next two!

it’s really not a big deal.

he just wouldn’t be able to continue on if something happened to his cute neighbor!

that’s all.

you’re so sweet and still shaken up by the interaction that you let him stay the night.

…and the next one.

…and the one after that.

you’re starting to think he never really counted on staying just one night.

you don’t say anything, but after the second week passes and simon is still around, you find yourself reeling as you start to see his socks and shirts tucked nicely in your drawers.

his coffee mug now kisses yours in the cabinet, and some magnets of the countries he’s visited cling to the fridge.

there isn’t a crevice in your apartment that simon hasn’t explored, or left a piece of himself in.

you should have known better than to invite simon into the same place he had fantasized about for the past six months.

the very place where he listened to your sweet moans, so loud, so tempting.

every. single. night.

he kicked his friends out of his place every time he heard your vibrator start up, so that they couldn’t listen to your breathy whines and so he could sneak away to his room, where your thin walls meet, to tug away at his cock imagining it was you stroking him until he came all over his hand and sheets.

such a sweet girl, you are.

letting a dog into your home to roam free, unaware of the way he watched you with a slobbering tongue and a primal hunger.

oh, sweetheart, you never stood a chance.

[blondwhxrewrites]

Void: *very clearly flirting with reader*

Reader:🧍‍♀️

It's the middle of the night when you feel it, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. It's that exact feeling that wakes you up from your peaceful sleep.

The first thing you noticed was the pitch-black darkness that covered your entire room, which was weird since you always slept with a nightlight…what? It chased the nightmares away.

It's only when your eyes finally adjust to the darkness that you notice the pair of silver eyes peering at you from the corner of your room.

“I like the stuffed animals. They're cute.” The distorted voice of Bob broke the silence. The familiar silhouette of your friend stepped forward, kicking away one of your beloved stuffed animals from his path towards you.

You rubbed your hand down your face and sighed. You'd been having a really good dream too…

“Please tell me you haven't sent the others into the rooms of shame.”

“No need to worry about your friends. I haven't done anything to them.”

“You know I'm not scared of you, right?” You whispered softly. You lifted your head up and stared at him as if you could see past the darkness, past the cold, never-ending void.

“I know. That's why I'm here.”

He towered over your bed. He leaned down towards you, and a distant voice in your mind urged you to back away. Void was dangerous, unstable, nothing like the Bob you knew. And yet, you couldn't find it within yourself to do so.

There was something buried deep within your soul, an invisible force that pulled you towards the darkness—to him.

Did he feel it too?

You watched as he raised his shadowy hand, and you felt the fleeting touch of his hand cupping your face. The action felt intimate, like the touch of a lover. You didn't know how to feel about that.

“You have consumed me, mind, body, and soul,” he said it like a worshiper praying to their god, or, er, goddess. The pure devotion in his words had your heart stuttering in your chest. “Tell me, what have you done to me?”

You blinked, stunned. “Don't look at me like that. I'm just here to emotionally support Bob in all of his endeavors."

He chuckled, and even though you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was smirking.

His hand fell back to his side, and you almost whined at the loss of his touch. Oh, ew, what was he doing to you? You were stronger than this.

“You know he loves you, right? Every second he goes without you is torture to him. Truly, it's pathetic how down bad he is for you.”

“How do you even know that phrase?”

“Did you forget that me and Bob share the same consciousness?"

You groaned, and flopped back against your pillows. “Go awayyyy.” You grabbed one of your other pillows and threw it at Void. It phased through him and fell to the floor.

Void didn't respond. Instead, he crossed the room to the other side of your bed, and before you knew it, he was lying down beside you. He didn't even ask for permission, which was rude, by the way.

You turned onto your side to face him. “You know, for the thing that consumed the entirety of New York and almost killed all of my friends, you aren't very threatening.”

Copying your actions, Void turned onto his side. Now face-to-face with him, you could finally see the shadowy features of his face.

“Yes, well, you are different. You make me different.”

“I can tell.”

Hey, you weren't going to complain though. You'd much rather have a midnight rendezvous with Void if it meant he didn't send you to those godawful rooms. You would rather not relive the worst moments of your life, thank you very much.

You stifled a yawn. It seemed like exhaustion was slowly creeping up on you.

“ugh, fine, you can stay, but fair warning—I snore when I sleep.”

“I know.”

“How do you know that?”

He didn't respond.

You were just going to pretend that didn't happen.

You turned onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. It was getting harder to stay awake.

Yeah, it was time to go back to sleep. You needed your beauty sleep, after all. God knows you needed atleast eight hours of sleep to be able to deal with the chaos that was your found family.

“Goodnight, Void.” You yawned, and pulled your blanket over yourself. You shuffled around for a few moments until you were finally comfortable enough to close your eyes and finally let sleep consume you.

He watched as sleep slowly claimed your consciousness, and when he finally knew you were fully asleep, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunbeam.”

Once again, this is not edited.

Also, are Void/Sentry/Bob the same person? Yes. Are they also separate somehow? Yes. I see Sentry and Void as representations of Bob's mood swings, basically his highs and his lows. But I also see them being separate and different to each other. IT'S COMPLICATED OKAY. I'm still figuring out the dynamics of it all.

[multific]

His Wife

At'Roh x Reader

Summary: Nothing is scarier than a Yautja who's protecting their mate. And At'Roh is no different, he is worse.

A/N: Another Yautja I made up for all of your pleasure. The above photo is not mine! Credit goes to its owner. Enjoy.

You looked up at him. 

You were smiling as you walked by his side, proud. 

The wedding ceremony was held yesterday, now you are officially his.

His mate.

You have come a long way, from running away from home, getting picked up by an alien and now being a part of their tribe.

You were proud of the long journey you had.

Now, it was time for a different one.

Marriage.

It has been almost 10 years since they took you from Earth. You understood their language, their traditions and their behaviour.

You fell in love with the new tribe leader almost immediately.

He was still young, losing his father to old age, and At'Roh became a young leader.

Young yet fierce.

Many claimed that he was crazy, even with Yautja standards.

One proof of this was the way he got you.

He wanted you, a little human, At'Roh craved something different, something exotic, taking a human as a wife was just that.

But as time passed, and you two grew closer and closer, he couldn't deny the facts.

The facts were that he not only wanted you as a wife due to you being a human.

A fierce human who kept him on his toes, who was not afraid to say no to him.

You rejected his marriage proposal at least five times.

You hoped At'Roh would give up, but he didn't.

Your little play of cat and mouse ended in a way no one expected. 

Everyone thought you two would bring a war within the tribe.

Instead, you two fell in love.

---

It was late at night, you were sleeping in his arms, and everything was perfect until it wasn't.

It all happened so fast.

You knew your mate would immediately go and fight to protect his tribe.

All you need to do is find the other females and go with them.

You have done this before when your tribe was attacked by a group of bad-blood yautja.

At'Roh looked at you one last time before heading out, you gave him a nod. 

You knew what you needed to do.

But it wasn't so easy this time.

The bad-bloods this time had a plan, and you played right into their hand.

They got you way too easy, but they didn't kill you.

Instead, they dragged you to their leader. 

No matter what you tried, you couldn't escape. 

"He's going to get me, you know!" you told him as soon as they tossed you to his legs. "And he will kill you all!!!" you knew they understood, even if they didn't speak your language. 

"At'Roh is dead." the leader replied before they chained you. Your face fell.

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"Liar." was the last thing you said before the collar clicked around your neck.

The long chain connecting to your neck was given to their leader and you were dragged along as they all ran.

They had no ships. 

It was good, there was a chance At'Roh could find you before they got you to a ship and flew away.

You just needed to hold out and slow them down somehow.

---

At'Roh's heavy breathing was the only thing in the house.

He couldn't even see due to his anger.

You were gone.

His wife was gone.

He knew the way this attack played out was too easy. They had a plan. And the plan wasn't to kill him, the plan was to take you.

At'Roh took a deep breath before putting all of his gear on.

If these bad bloods wanted to play, he was going to destroy them.

Hunting was his speciality. At'Roh loved to hunt maybe a bit too much. While other Yautja excelled at it, he became a monster. A crazed hunter who knew nothing else.

Finding you will be a simple task. His blood was boiling because you were taken.

He wanted to save his tribe only to play right into their hands and help them take you.

It was all a trap to kidnap you. It was a level of disrespect he could not forgive.

At'Roh received information that a female saw a group taking you into the forest, they saw no ships.

At'Roh figured they were taking you to a ship to take you away.

And so, the hunt was on.

---

You have not stopped walking since they got you.

A group of four soldiers and a leader.

They have been dragging you along for hours.

You were beginning to get tired.

You felt like you needed to sit down, but they refused. No matter how you begged.

Looks like their perfect plan had a huge flaw.

They didn't take your refusal and unwillingness to cooperate into much consideration.

They honestly thought they could just drag you along and leave with you.

And this gives time for At'Roh to find you.

You managed to find a sharp stone and cut your hand, hoping to give a trail to At'Roh so he could find you more easily.

You hoped it was enough.

---

At'Roh's anger didn't lessen as he continued his hunt. 

It only grew as he noticed blood on the ground.

He only needed the smallest whiff to tell that it was indeed your blood.

He rubbed the wet material on his finger, watching as it almost coated his fingertip.

He hated that.

He didn't want to see you hurt.

It only fueled his anger and he marched forward, angrier than ever.

He will definitely make sure to kill every last one of them.

It was now morning when he finally caught up with the bad bloods. 

Now he just needed a plan to save you from them.

Thankfully his mind was on autopilot almost since the moment he realized you were taken. 

He moved with such ease, killing everyone that came his way.

At'Roh left no survivors.

Due to the chaos, your scent started to mix with others but he managed to find you.

With a knife to your neck as the leader of the bad bloods had you in front of him.

"Let her go." At'Roh demanded with a dangerously low voice. "If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"You will kill me either way. Why not give you some trouble in the meantime?" you understood everything they were saying and you understood what was happening, what you needed to do. You prepared yourself.

"At'Roh," you said his name, hoping to survive this mess.

His eyes moved to you only for a second, the Yautja behind you took this as an opportunity but you also moved. Moving back towards the alien behind you, using all of your body weight, causing his knife only to gaze at your skin, minimalizing the damage. 

Your movement caused the Yautja behind you to fall giving At'Roh enough time to catch up and move you behind himself before he pounced on the bad blood.

You didn't move, watching your mate defending you as he killed the bad blood.

With a loud scream, he killed the other and stood victorious.

But soon, he turned to you and hugged you.

You didn't even care for the bright green blood on his hands or body. You knew it wasn't his.

Soon, he pulled back and looked at your neck, leaning down to lick along the small cut, helping it heal.

"Take me home," you said, and he understood.

Picking you up with one hand he carried you back towards your tribe.

You were so exhausted, that you fell asleep in his arms as he carried you.

You slept almost the entire day away, exhausted from the way you were dragged along, you only woke up when it was almost night again.

At'Roh was, of course, by your side.

You didn't know but you could guess that he never left your side not once.

You looked into his eyes and you felt safe. You felt at home.

"I will not let this happen ever again."

"It's okay, you killed them and saved me." you placed your forehead against his.

You felt his finger trace your neck, where your cut used to be.

At'Roh will make sure this won't happen ever again, you were way too important for him.

You were his wife after all.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @darlingmira @stygianoir @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[reidrum]

doctor, doctor

A/N: the things i have planned for them.............

summary: in which the doctor meets the doctor, a doctor meetcute if you will

cw: doctor!reader, fluff, flirting, hospital mentions, set during season 5x01 (spoilers ig)

wc: 1.07k

Spencer hates hospitals.

He’s not really sure who could like being in one of them, but it’s definitely not him. The hospital brings bad memories, near death experiences, a reminder of his impending mortality—things he already has enough of at work.

Yet work is mainly the reason he finds himself laid out on a hospital bed from time to time, waiting to find out how much of the unsub’s agenda is about to be scarred on his body forever. It’s how he finds himself right now, twiddling his thumbs as he waits for the doctor to come give him an update. Today’s incident, ironically, was him getting caught in the crossfire of a vengeful father out to kill the surgeon who couldn’t operate on his son. It was only his leg that suffered, but he knows the recovery for it is about to be a long and boring journey.

Spencer’s ears perk up at a group of voices most likely a few doors down, outwardly sighing knowing the doctor and their team are about to round on his case next. He just wants to go home. Emily had been texting him updates about Hotch who hadn’t shown up for the case earlier that day, and it only spiraled further when Penelope found out he had been dropped off at the ER on the other side of town with Derek’s stolen credentials. No one’s been able to give him an update since and all he can do is sit in this stupid bed while he suffers in agony.

A knock pulls him out of his head, “Good morning Mr. Reid, mind if I come in?”

He nods aimlessly without looking up just yet, adjusting his body on the bed so he can at least look respectful while sitting up to talk to the doctor.

“How are you feeling today?” you say as you click through his chart on the monitor next to him.

Spencer sighs, “I’ve been better. Oh, I’ve been having these chest pains and I was thinking it’s probably a side effect of the Dilitiazem. Maybe it might be better to switch to—“

The rest of the sentence falls flat on his tongue, because that’s when he finally gets a look at his doctor.

You’re not what he’s expecting out of a doctor, and he swears he means it in the least misogynistic way he can think of. Quite the opposite really, as he thinks he’s definitely discovered the living definition of brains and beauty. You’ve been in the room for all of two minutes, all you’re wearing is scrubs, and yet he’s enticed by every inch of you—by the way your fingers type quickly on the keyboard, your brows furrowed whilst deep in thought, how your lips move when you talk.

Wait, your lips are moving.

“Mr. Reid? Everything okay?” you wave a hand in front of his face, “Your chart didn’t say anything about a head injury, are you feeling dizzy?”

“Uh—Um, d–doctor.” he stutters.

You tilt your head in adorable confusion, his heart squeezes in love at first sight, “Yes, I’m the doctor���are you sure you’re okay?

Smooth, Reid.

“N—No, I um, I’m a doctor too.” he winces out.

“I see, good to know,” you smile, “what kind of doctor are you?”

“Oh, I’m not that kind of doctor,” He should have never learned how to speak. “I have three PhDs.”

“Three? Holy shit, that’s impressive.”

He blushes profusely, thankful the heart rate monitor hasn’t picked up his tell.

“What are they in?” you ask with a genuine interest sparkling in your eyes.

Spencer goes bashful, “I have PhDs in math, engineering, and chemistry. Also two bachelors in sociology and psychology…and I’m working on my philosophy degree right now.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “Are you like a genius or something?”

“Or something. I have an eidetic memory.” he smiles sheepishly.

“Now that would be useful in medical school, surprised that’s not something you picked up while shopping around for those degrees.”

His face reddens deeper. You’re making jokes, and he’s thinking chapel versus courthouse.

“Just wasn’t interested in it, plus I’m sure the medical world is better off with people like you.”

You grin slowly, “Like me? You just met me.”

“I’m a profiler for the FBI, the behavioral analysis unit?” he says it like a question.

“Oh, I’ve heard of you guys! We see you on the news all the time.” you say excitedly, “What’s your verdict on me then?”

He takes a breath, “I think…you’re very good at what you do. The time it took you to get from the previous patient to my room was longer than average which tells me you’re well liked and respected. And I think I’d be more inclined to lie in a hospital bed if I knew you’d be my doctor.”

“Dr. Reid, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you might be flirting with me.” you say cheekily.

“Is it working?”

“Verdict’s still out.” You wink at him, he nearly flatlines, “So, you think the Dilitiazem isn’t working? What do you think we should switch to?”

“Um…Amlodipine?”

You grin, softly chuckling, “Good call, doctor.” You turn back to the monitor to put the prescription in and close out the chart. “Can I just check your lungs really quick?”

He nods and instantly regrets it when you step closer, the waft of gourmand overwhelming his senses. You unravel your stethoscope and lean down to press the face to his chest, “Deep breath.”

Spencer inhales as best he cans but he knows he’s about to be outed the longer you stand so close to him like this.

“Your lungs sound fine, but your heart's beating really fast.” you giggle as you stand up straight again.

“It does that.” Around really, really, pretty girls.

“Not sure if the Amlodipine alone will help that.”

“No I don’t think so either,” he shuffles awkwardly on the bed, “but…your number might?”

“My number? That’s awfully forward, Dr. Reid,” you beam, “but, if in your educated opinion you find it vital to your recovery and well being…” You scribble your name and number on a post it note, sticking it to the flower vase on the side of his bed. Clicking your pen and sliding it back into your pocket, you head towards the door.

“It was very nice to meet you, doctor.” you turn to him, “See you soon?”

He couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “See you soon, doctor.”

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

[heyimkana]

Come Home to Me (1/2)

Read Part 2 | Read it on AO3

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, slight angst

Summary: Jinwoo bids you and his baby daughter goodbye before he goes on another dangerous mission. As his wife, you've grown used to the bittersweet farewell, only this time, you're not sure if he can return safely to you.

Word Count: 5K

Content Warnings: None for this one. Semi-public sex in part 2. Contains minor spoilers and the appearance of Beru, the shadow soldier that he obtained during Jeju Island Raid.

Author's Note: Wrote something fluffy for him since there's already plenty of Daddy!Jinwoo fics out there but none for Papa!Jinwoo 😔

A week. 

Your husband has only been gone for a week, tasting the air of a country that stretched like a vast sea on the other side of the world, wishing every breath and scenery was shared with you. And yet, the suspense of being kept in waiting, clueless to what was happening, was almost too much to bear. You never thought that seven days could stretch like infinity, how every hour passed by so slowly, so agonizingly, as if you had lost your sole purpose in life. Had you realized it sooner, you would’ve begged him not to go, knowing you’d be dreading every passing second, wondering if he was safe, if he was close to death’s door like the last time you let him go to protect Seoul from being transformed into an everlasting iceland. 

“What are you so worried about? You have it so easy. Your husband is untouchable. Try being a D-rank hunter’s wife like me. I’m lucky if he comes home with only a bruise on his face.”

What your neighbor told you was true. You had it easy compared to everyone else. You’re the wife of Korea’s 10th S-Rank Hunter. The Lord of the Undead. The Shadow Monarch. As the sixth nation-level hunter, maybe even a level beyond that, your husband’s strength was nearly immeasurable, far better than anyone else. But to you… He was just Sung Jinwoo. The father of your beautiful baby daughter, a loving husband who refused to believe that he was handsome enough to charm your heart from the very first sight, and an ardent lover who’d be more than willing to sacrifice the world for you, the same one he had vowed to protect with all his power. Jinwoo might be strong, surpassing all humans and beings alike, but even the Gods themselves weren’t invincible. And the thought of him not returning to you, no matter how slim the chance might be, scared you to your bones.

He had made enemies. Powerful enemies. Enemies that didn’t just wish to kill him but to torture. Enemies that were no longer just mindless beasts or demons but ones who bore immense hatred and revenge in their hearts.

With that knowledge in mind, all sorts of thoughts and scenarios raced through your head, all of them ending in worst-case scenarios.

What if Jinwoo doesn’t come home?

And, of course, amidst all that fear, there was loneliness. The kind that lingered every time your fingertips traced over your husband’s belongings in your bedroom. The kind that suffocated you when you caught a whiff of his sweet scent in your pillows. You thought you could handle it. It was only for a week, after all. It was not until later that you realized that it meant you had to miss seven occasions of him surprising you in the morning with a back hug and a tender kiss on your neck. Seven chances of seeing him opening the front door with a bag of sweets to please your daughter, embracing your little one with the sweetest of smiles before he greeted you with an equally sweet peck on the lips. Seven nights of nothing but the deafening silence to keep you company instead of deep, consuming kisses that took your breath away and a hand sliding up your thigh to remind you just who you belonged to.

You thought such a solitary feeling wouldn’t strike you so hard since you had your daughter to keep you company at all times, but it did, harder than lightning. You felt lonely the minute your husband kissed you goodbye. You felt lonely the moment he lovingly caressed your cheek, brushing another kiss, lighter and tender than before, right on your temple. You felt lonely the second his voice rang through your ears to speak his farewell, “Goodbye, baby. I’ll be home as soon as I clear the gate.” 

Soon was not enough. Soon, you realized, was just another word for eternity. Eternity without him. But the world needed him, and you couldn’t be selfish. You shouldn’t.

You hummed quietly in response, carrying your baby in your arms as your heart stood heavy with the fear for his safety. You knew you should’ve hidden it better so your husband could leave with ease. Seeing you worry so much would only make his heart ache more. 

You could tell that he already had his own concerns and doubts to dwell on, gnawing at him from the inside. Jinwoo was just better at hiding everything to himself—the burden he was carrying, the guilt of leaving you behind, the exhaustion of doing endless raids, one gate harder than the last. To tell the truth, he was as torn as you were. Like you, who constantly grew anxious over his well-being, he worried about yours, too, perhaps a million times worse. He was a hunter possessing God-like abilities, but you were just a human, as normal as one could be. The closest way to get to him, to strike him where he’d bleed the most, was through you. You and his sweet baby daughter. It was the reason why Jinwoo had assigned a hundred High Orcs to protect the neighborhood, with another hundred swarming beneath the shadows of your walls. He’d transformed your home into a fortress, and yet, even then, his concern for you remained. But your husband never told you this, and he wished you wouldn’t come to realize it on your own, not wanting you to feel like you were the anchor that slowed him down, a weight that would drown him deep into the void. 

You should’ve done the same. As his wife, the least you could do was put up a strong face, convince him that everything would be fine, that he’d return home safely, and that you’d be there waiting for him to welcome him with the warmth of your lips meeting his own. You could’ve offered him the peace he secretly sought after, and most of the time, you did a fine job at it, but this evening was different. There was a sense of impending dread closing in with every tick of the clock, and you couldn’t wash it away no matter what you did.

With his car keys dangling in one hand, Jinwoo headed toward your porch, carrying a suitcase with him. His long coat swayed gracefully with each step taken, his matching black shirt unbuttoned low enough to showcase the dip of his sternum. Even from behind, he appeared tall and strong, providing the feeling of security you couldn’t find in anyone else. Your baby held onto you, laying her head on your chest as you followed after your husband’s footsteps, oblivious to the heavy storm raging in your mind. 

Don’t go. You felt like catching his hand and pulling him back even from the second he removed himself from your embrace. “J-Jinwoo.”

His gaze flickered back to you, one hand settled on the door of his car. His eyes, the same pair that caused even the most vicious beast to tremble in fear, they were always so gentle to you, weren’t they? “Yeah?”

You swallowed your breath. Don’t tell him. Don’t make him worry more than he already is. You released a shaky breath, followed closely after with your best smile. “Be safe.”

A flash of curiosity fleeted across his face. He sensed something from how you behaved but did not quite understand it just yet, as your mask was nearly perfect. Smiling to himself, he settled down his suitcase and returned to you. Jinwoo laid a hand on your head, his palm large and gentle. As you looked up, greeted by his towering height, he bent himself slightly to be closer to you. He brushed the stray strands out of your eyes; his smile had a hint of confidence—maybe even arrogance—in it. “And who do you think you’re talking to, Sweetheart?”

To anyone else’s eyes, your husband might often come across as indifferent, with his charisma and leadership ceaselessly exuding out of him, making him seem unapproachable, guarded. But to you, he was always playful. Cheeky. Flirty, even. Not too much, just enough for your heart to palpitate inside your ribcages, just enough for you to recall the reason why your life was so beautiful, meaningful. No, the reason why you were alive in the first place. 

But it wasn’t enough to ease your worry, not today. Even so, you returned it with a delicate bow of your lips. “My husband,” you said, angling your head just enough for his hand to slide down to your cheek, gazing up at him with sincerity, “who I couldn’t bear to live without.”

He blinked, taken by surprise with such an earnest answer. Once the words sank in, his entire expression softened. His fingertips traced the contour of your cheek, a touch so tender you wondered if it truly belonged to someone who had drenched his hands in blood. His palm was rough, calloused from all the countless hours he’d spent wielding his dagger, but it comforted you more than anything else. “You’re right, I am,” he replied softly. “Which is why you don’t need to worry. As your husband, I have the responsibility—and this aching need—to be with you. No matter how hard it is, no matter how long it will take me, I will do anything, everything, to make sure I return to you.” He lifted your face just enough to brush a kiss on your temple. “I’ll come home safe and sound, the way I always do. You just need to trust me on this, all right?”

You believed him—you did, you always did—but you couldn’t put the same faith in whoever controlled his fate.

Jinwoo stood close, close enough for you to take in his scent and feel the familiar heat radiating from his body. He brought your face to his, pressing your foreheads together. Your lids fluttered shut at the intimacy, a habit of yours that he’d grown to adore. You wanted to cry, the silvery voice in your mind telling you this might be the last time you could bask in this serenity. You would’ve done it, sobbed your heart out, if it wasn’t because of the thin thread of restraint holding you together. 

“Instead of telling me to be safe,” Jinwoo breathed out softly, closing his eyes just the same. “Tell me you’ll be waiting for me.” He returned the small distance between your faces, just enough for you to marvel at the sweetness of his smile. “That you’ll be here, standing by the door to greet me with a smile, with the same kiss you gave me before we parted. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart? Can you wait here for me, stay safe, and make sure that I have something to come back to?”

You squeezed your lips tightly before you altered the tremble running through them into a smile. You covered his hand with your own, your digit brushing against the silver ring that adorned his lean finger, glinting under the sunset with your name carved inside. “Jin…” You brushed your lips against the center of his palm, exhaling heavily as you drowned in his warmth. It was nearly impossible to release the words, the same way you never wanted to release him. “Come home soon. Come home to me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

For someone who rarely showed emotions across his face, his joy unfolded like a flower, crystal clear for even your baby to see. With a quiver in his breath, his voice dropped an octave lower. “Baby,” he sighed, his voice hoarse with need, your stomach somersaulting at the sound. “You’re making it so hard for me to leave right now.”

If it was hard for him, it was unbearable to you. “I was just doing what you told me to.”

“I didn’t expect you to say it like that,” he replied, almost in a whine. “Now, I’ve lost motivation to go. Maybe I should just change back to my sweatpants and cuddle with you two. Watch cartoons all day. Eat cakes and have tea parties.” He tickled his daughter by the chin, returning her questioning eyes with a slight grin. “Doesn’t that sound fun, Princess?”

It was heartwarming the way he spoke it, the way he imagined it, how he craved for more time to spend with his family. “Then, stay,” you said, an impish, albeit faint, smile twinkled on your pretty mouth. “Stay with me.” You pulled your daughter, who had been listening while babbling quietly to herself, closer to you, your cheek squeezed tight against her plump one. “With us.”

“And watch the world burn?” His chuckle, your favorite sound in the world, reverberated nicely in your ears. 

You fell into deep rumination, taking his words into serious consideration despite it being a jest. A dungeon break would happen soon on the other side of the world, and an S-rank gate at that. Nobody was strong enough to close it. Nobody was strong enough to clear it. It would destroy the whole city in the following two days had it not been taken care of—no, maybe even the entire state. Hundreds—thousands—of innocent lives would be wiped out in an instant should that happen. Your husband had the power to stop it. He was the only one capable of saving them, but… 

“Would that… be so bad?” You feebly questioned before you could stop yourself, almost pleadingly. “Just one time… Don’t be a hero just this one time. Just be my husband and stay with me. Stay right here, where I need you the most.”

His smile vanished, his body freezing at the solemnity in your tone. He was lost for words, perplexity in his stare. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his breath. Jinwoo cupped your cheek again, his gaze turning stern as he beseeched you for the truth. “Are you really asking me that?”

You gulped. His words had weight behind them, responding to you just as earnestly. It was almost as if he was on the verge of doing the same, just needing that one last push for his will to save the world to shatter. Your words could be it.

You felt weak under his stare, almost breathless, intoxicated by how deeply he loved you, to the point he would trade innocent lives for it. “As long as that means you can always be with me,” you answered, letting your selfish thought slip, saying it so quietly as if you couldn’t bear the Gods to know just how sinful your wish was. “I’ll trade the world for it.”

Not a word flowed from his mouth. His hold on your face was almost as still as a statue. Within this proximity, under this palpable tension, your gaze dropped to his thin lips, the same way his deep, cobalt eyes fell to yours. His eyes darkened, his body burning with desire. “Don’t tempt me,” he uttered, almost in a growl, before he smashed your lips together. He gathered your face in his hands, kissing you fast and hard, disregarding everything, anything except you. You could feel just how much he wanted to make your wish come true, and it painted elation onto your soul but guilt onto your heart. It was an awful thing to say, jest or not.

His moan, soft, breathy, and sensual, granted a layer of sweet vibration on your lips, and oh, you were wrong. This one was your favorite sound in the world. You were in the middle of drowning in his kiss, in the swirling, intense emotions he permeated your heart with, when the sound of your daughter’s giggles rang through the air. Immediately, you stopped, breaking away from him. “W-what are you laughing about, Sweetheart?” you asked her, flames licking your cheeks. “I can’t believe we just did that in front of our child!” You hissed at him, glaring.

Jinwoo averted his face to the side, looking just as flushed and caught off guard. Wiping the stain of your lip gloss off his lips with his knuckles, he uttered back, “Don’t blame me. This is all your fault.”

“How is it my fault? You kissed me.”

“You were looking at me with those eyes.”

“With what eyes?” You played dumb. “This is how I normally look at you.”

He snorted, amused. “Oh, so you weren’t just staring at my lips? Asking me to sacrifice the world for you while you did it?”

Your face sizzled. “Oh, shut up.”

Jinwoo laughed, quiet and soft as always, but his eyes crinkled prettily around the edges. Your daughter chortled along, too, as if she could understand the words you exchanged with your husband. In reality, she was simply mirroring the joy that gleamed on both of your faces, happy to see the unspoken, lingering sadness between you disappear even for a moment.

When you returned your stare from your daughter to the man before you, you caught him staring at you. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Jinwoo shrugged with a smile. Happy. “Hey, can you say it again?”

“Say what?”

“That you’ll be waiting for me to come back to you.”

Your heart thrashed inside your ribcages. For some reason, with him looking at you with those eyes and that smile, it felt mortifying to repeat it. You looked away, mumbling out the words almost inaudibly, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Baby,” he playfully scolded. “Be a good girl and say it like you mean it.”

Good gi—Must he say it like that? Your cheeks burned. “I’ll… I’ll be waiting… for you.”

So cute, his expression seemed to say, adoring you with his smile growing wide and clear, consumed by the love you presented him, love that was fully returned. “One more time, love. Please.”

You exhaled, finally succumbing to his wish. You held his gaze, your expression sheepish, nervous, but you said it as best as you could, placing a piece of your heart in every word.

“Come home to me. I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you.”

It resonated straight into his chest, erasing every hint of smirk off his lips. A spark of desire filled his gaze as he dove his head to capture your lips once more, forgetting yet again that your baby was there—looking at the two of you with curious eyes.

“H-Honey,” you stopped him just in time despite wanting it as badly—especially after that last kiss. Funny how your body still longed desperately for his touch even after he’d endlessly robbed moans out of your mouth the previous night. “Your daughter’s still here.”

“Right.” Jinwoo broke free from the thought, no matter how inviting your lips looked. He turned toward his daughter, rubbing her head. “Sorry, kiddo. Mommy looked so pretty; I got completely absorbed for a moment there. The one before that was completely her fault, though.”

You elbowed him on the side, stealing another chuckle from him. “You’re not in a hurry, are you? I still want to talk to you. I’m sure your daughter feels the same, too. Even for a minute is fine, just… just stay.”

Happiness, one that you brought to him, was the perfect shade to color his face. Being so needed by you, so wanted… You were his motivation to fight and survive. He wanted to memorize your face, to engrave it into his mind so that he could hold onto it, even in the midst of battle. “Of course, baby.”

You dwelled in another string of conversation, something light to pacify your mind. You couldn’t help but stare a little as he spoke, adoring how his hair framed his face so perfectly. He looked exceptionally handsome standing before you, causing you to wonder if it was because your heart was already yearning so terribly for him, knowing you’d be deprived of his touch for days after.

The baby in your arms looked up at her father, her hand reaching forward to touch him, her twin-tails swaying in the air with every movement. “Papa…”

Jinwoo bent his head low to meet her at her eye level, smiling when she splayed her hand on his cheek. “Yes, my darling?” 

“Shaef…” She cooed, still having trouble pronouncing her words clearly. “Papa, shaef…”

Your lips curved up in a downhearted smile. “She wants you to be safe. Seems like she’s worried about you, too.”

You could see his emotions swirling in his eyes, how touched he was, how much it pained him to tear himself away from his little family, but it was a mission he needed to do. A mission that only he could do. He collected himself before more pieces of his heart broke, rubbing her head so affectionately. “I will be, Sweetheart. Daddy will be just fine. There’s no need to worry about me. Daddy’s stronger than anyone else.”

Your daughter tried to imitate the word ‘strong’ in response, an act so adorable that it stole a peal of laughter from both of you. “That’s right, Sweetie,” he crooned. “And you will be as strong as me, too, one day, but for now, I’ll have Beru watching over you at all times, okay? He’s tougher than any S-rank hunter here. He can protect you from anything.”

She blinked her doe eyes, patting his father’s cheek. “Boo… Bewu… Boo…”

Jinwoo sewed his brows in confusion. “What?”

You tittered. “She’s asking you if Beru could protect her from ghosts, too. Remember last Halloween when we bought her the storybook with the little white ghost? She’s talking about that one.”

“Oh, yeah,” he recalled the memory with delight. “You’re scared of the little ghost, baby?”

“Boo! Boo!”

“I see,” he chuckled lightly at her reaction. “Well, yes, Beru can certainly protect you from that, too. Just give me a second, all right?” 

Your husband straightened himself, his eyes emitting an ominous glow, a pair of brilliant amethyst gleaming underneath the orange tinge of the setting sun. No matter how often you’d seen it, it still sent shivers down your spine. 

“Come forth.”

A shadow soldier, a huge, humanoid ant with a light purple glow, neon eyes, and smoky wings, was born out of his spell, his body manifesting out of thin air. Beru, he was called, a name Jinwoo had bestowed upon him after he resurrected him during the deadly raid on Jeju island. 

The warrior kneeled before his summoner at once, bending his head low. “My liege.”

“Take care of my wife and baby while I’m away. Should any harm come to them…” It shimmered brighter, the eerie glow inside his eyes, carrying the horror of death itself. His voice vibrated dangerously, pressure in each word. “You know what I’ll do to you, right?”

The shadow, one of the strongest generals in his army, gulped in fear. “Y-yes, my liege.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him, Jin,” you scold your husband, rubbing his arm. “He’s doing us a favor.” You greeted the soldier with a warm smile. “I’ll be in your care again, Beru.”

“It is an honor, milady.” Beru placed his hand over his chest, his claws long enough to graze his own shoulder as he inclined his body forward. “I swear upon my life that I will do whatever it takes to protect you, even if it means my bones will shatter to dust.”

Jinwoo visibly rolled his eyes at his dramatic act. “See, this is exactly why I should be a little strict with him. You’re spoiling him too much.”

“I think he deserves it. He’s been an excellent babysitter to us. And he cleans up the house better than you do. He just talks a bit funny, that’s all.”

“Oh, Queen Consort,” Beru nearly sobbed, the black smoke around him trembled. “Your praise is too much for my humble self to accept. How can I, Beru, your most loyal servant, repay you for such kindness?”

“Stopping yourself from watching all those historical dramas would be a start,” your husband muttered.

“Shush, he can watch whatever he wants,” you lightly chastised him again, to which Jinwoo sighed in defeat. “Though I would’ve liked it better if you could just address me normally, Beru. Calling me the… Queen Consort is kind of embarrassing.”

Beru performed his respect with an exaggerated bow. “I will call you whatever title you see fit, milady. Please. Tell me. How should I refer to you, O my Gracious One?”

You cringed at the title. “My name?”

Horror fell upon his face as soon as the words reached his ears. “I-I cannot do that, milady! I will never be so disrespectful as to call you merely by your name. You are the Queen of The Shadow Realm. The Wife of Death. The Worthy Bearer of my King’s Seeds—”

“‘Milady’ then!” You exclaimed with haste, face aflame. “M-Milady is fine, just—never call me that.”

Jinwoo bit his lip, trying to bite back his laughter. “The last one has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

In the hilarity of the moment, your baby suddenly launched her hands in the air, her feet kicking around in excitement. “Bewu! Bewu!”

“Aaw, look at her, Jinwoo,” your mouth broke into a wide grin as you struggled to keep her in your arms. “She’s so happy to see him.”

“L-little monarch,” Beru, without a doubt, began to cry, touched by the baby’s attachment to him. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Princess. May—may I carry her in my arms, milady?”

“Sure.” You closed the distance, gently handing her over to him. “Watch your claws.”

“Of course, milady.” The soldier wept at their reunion, tears streaming down his armor-like skin. Your baby tugged onto one of his antennae, using it as her personal rattle toy, giggling as she did it. You and your husband smiled; your hearts thawed at the sight. 

Jinwoo, acting aloof as always, stuffed his hands inside his coat pockets, huffing out, “How is she not terrified of him but gets scared of a drawing? That little ghost was cute and Beru is like… that.”

“I take pride in my appearance, my liege. Nothing can penetrate my skin, not even the teeth of a mighty beast.” Under Jinwoo’s flat stare, Beru cowered. “N-nothing except your daggers, my liege.”

Your body shook a little with mirth as you replied, “Babies don’t see things the way we do, darling. Maybe she thinks Beru is cute.”

He hummed before he leaned closer to you. “And who do you think is cute?” A little smirk embellished his lips, his voice silky-smooth.

Understanding what lies behind his words, you slid a hand up his chest, an inkling of seduction in your smile. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I do,” he teased back, loving the little game you played. “Care to enlighten me?”

Your hand rested on his shoulder before you guided him down to bring his ear close to your lips. You let your mouth caress his lobe, just a little, just enough to drive him crazy, and with the most sultry, alluring voice you could muster, you whispered your answer, “Beru.”

Though he grunted in dissatisfaction, a faint blush still smeared his cheek. Feeling the softness of your lips upon his sensitive skin, even after years of marriage, still did something to him. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “I really think he’s cute.”

“Of course you do,” he scoffed, to which you giggled in response.

“Papa,” your daughter points her finger at him, stealing his attention once more. “Papa, stay!”

“Does she think I’m a dog?” Jinwoo uttered before a chuckle followed. Shortening the small distance between them, he nuzzled his nose against her tiny palm, his usually stern eyes turning softer than the first snow of December. “You know how much I’d love to stay with you, baby girl, but I can’t. Daddy needs to go and save the world from the big, scary monsters out there so they won’t come and steal your little nose.” He pinched her pointy nose lightly, making her giggle with it. “But I will miss you. I will miss you so much, kiddo. So, be a good girl and wait for my return, okay? Daddy will be back before you know it.”

“Stay!” She insisted still, nearly launching herself forward in her vehement protest. “Stay, Papa, stay!”

“All right, all right, come here.” Your husband stole his daughter back from the shadow’s embrace, carrying her with ease in one arm despite her growing weight. “Let’s talk about it like adults, shall we?”

Life had passed by so quickly, faster than your brain could retain the memories, but you could still recall the first day you saw him holding your baby in his arms just like this. His expression back then was a mixture of excitement, the fear of the unknown, but above all, the love he was so eager to give. His hair was disheveled, his smile weary, and black circles stained his fair skin from all the sleepless hours he’d spent waiting beside your bed, praying for the Gods to ease your pain. He shed plenty of tears on the morning you finally opened your lids, thinking that it would take you forever to wake up, just like his mother once did. Perhaps even worse. With his sharp senses, he could tell just how much yours were fading away, and it frightened him more than the time he dealt with the giants in Cartenon Temple, so much that his fingers shook as they held yours tightly in the middle of his prayer.

It wasn’t an easy process bringing your little bundle of joy into the world—a life-threatening situation, all because she inherited just a hint of Jinwoo’s immense power. You suffered terribly during your pregnancy days, even more so when you were closer to the due date. Your daughter was so close to tearing open your womb and leaving you to bleed to death on your bed before the doctors took you away just in time to perform the surgery. Jinwoo had witnessed everything from behind the glass doors, feeling so powerless, useless, and loathing himself for it. His dose of the Elixir of Life had run out a while ago, and mere potions would never be enough to heal the internal wounds your daughter had caused you. Beru’s healing magic could only bring a little peace to your sleep, but it could not touch the root of your agony. Without any of these miracles, there was nothing Jinwoo could do but hold your hand and wish he could trade his life with yours. It brought you immense joy to see how everything worked out wonderfully in the end. 

Gratitude washed over you as you took in the sight of your husband trying his best to keep up with your daughter’s babbles. “Slow down, love. Daddy can’t understand you.” 

“She said you looked very magnificent today, my liege,” Beru attempted to interpret. “Very dandy. Truly, the living proof of how a man’s beauty could rival the heavens’—”

“No, she did not say that. And don’t say dandy.” Jinwoo cut him off with an exasperated sigh before he placed his focus back on her. “That’s quite a compelling argument you have there, Sweetie. Is that all, or should I give you some time to vent a bit more?” She answered with two pats on his nose. “You’ve said everything, huh? Right, okay. Hmm… That is certainly a very, very concerning problem. I wonder what we should do about it…” He pretended to think, tapping his chin. “Oh, I know. Why don’t you and I make a little promise? Here.” He held his fifth finger in the air, dragging it closer to her face. “Grab my pinky.” The baby blinked cutely in return, staring at it almost with wonder. It took her all of her tiny fingers to surround his own completely, and like how every baby behaved, she instinctively brought it to her mouth. “No, no, no, honey,” Jinwoo chuckled. “You don’t eat this one, okay? We’re making a promise. A pinky promise, the most special one of all. Are you ready?”

“Weady!”

“That’s the spirit, Sweetheart. All right, here we go.” He shook their fingers together. “Daddy promise that I will come home soon, and once I do, I’ll tell you all about the amazing adventure I had when I was away. All about the bears, and the dragons, everything. How about that, love? Sounds good?” 

Though you doubted she understood everything, she mimicked him by saying, “Good!”

He laughed softly. “Okay. Now, it’s your turn, Princess.” Jinwoo switched his voice, turning it a pitch higher. “I promise I will be good to Mommy when Daddy is away. And I promise I will kick Beru in the face if he ends up watching TV again instead of looking after me.”

“My liege…” The shadow called out dejectedly. “Do you really think I would do such a thing to your precious one?”

“No, I don’t,” Jinwoo tossed him a smile, one that was so genuinely warm, almost affectionate, even. “I know you’ll take care of my family as best as you can. That’s why I trust you, Beru. I’m counting on you.”

It didn’t take long for the soldier to crumble to his feet, bawling. “Y-your kind words have touched me so deeply, my king!”

No one is immune to his charm, you thought, almost rolling your eyes. Though you couldn’t really chaff about it as you fell victim to his charm, too. “Honey, don’t forget. She’ll turn two next Monday. Will you be home by then?”

“Of course,” Jinwoo said, rubbing the tip of his nose to his daughter’s, making her giggle with it. “Clearing an S-rank gate shouldn’t take more than two days, even by myself. The problem is that I have plenty of meetings with the higher-ups after that. It’s a pain. I wish I could just skip them all together, but… Well, if I run out of time, I can use Shadow Exchange to return home.”

You scrunched up your nose. “And ditch your meetings just like that? Wouldn’t that cause more trouble?”

“Yeah, Jinho would probably kill me for it,” he smirked, expressing barely any remorse. “But he’ll understand. He knows that family always comes first to me. I wouldn’t want to miss my baby’s birthday.” He squeezed the round flesh of her cheek between two fingers, smiling fondly with a glint of heartbreak in his eyes. “Daddy’s been so busy with all the raids that he hasn’t noticed how fast his baby girl is growing.” He sighed in regret, stroking her locks. “I wish time could move slower. I want you to stay like this forever. So tiny and adorable, looking so pretty with your mother’s smile.”

“I don’t know, honey. I think she looks more like you than me.”

“I think she’s the perfect combination of us, and I love that.” He gathered both of you close, hugging you at the same time, his lips caressing your hairline as he spoke. “I can’t believe you and I could make something so pretty. I thank the Gods every day for that. For this little family I have right here.”

You could feel the rapid beating of your heart as you buried your face into his chest. His scent was heavenly. Comforting. Masculine and attractive. When he let go, he took a fraction of your heart with him. 

“Daddy will bring you lots and lots of gifts, okay?” He pecked his daughter’s head. “Pretty things for you, and,” his gaze flew back to you, softening at the view. “Something sweet for your mother.”

You melted into a smile. “Just come home to me in one piece. That’s all I ask.”

He nodded, an unspoken promise that he’d keep close to his heart as he viciously took the life of another. “I better go,” he said, carefully handing his baby over to Beru, who clutched onto her so endearingly. “Jinho is waiting for me at the office.”

“Wait, I thought you were heading straight to the airport.”

“No, I need to drop by for a minute to grab some paperwork. I’m also leaving my car there, so.”

“Why don’t you just summon Kaisel?”

“I think it’s better for me to lay low for a bit. I don’t want to end up on the news again. Not everyone is used to seeing a flying beast in the sky, you see. But it’s fine. Jinho will drive me to the airport later.”

“You treating the son of a billionaire as your own Uber driver is still hilarious to me,” you simper.

A wave of his deep chuckle mixed in with yours. “He’s just being nice.”

“Can’t you, at least, sit on the front? I feel sorry for him.”

“But I like sitting in the backseat,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, somewhat suggestive. “It reminds me of… the fun we’ve had together.”

Though heat crept up fast onto your cheeks, you narrowed your eyes at him. “If Jinho finds out we did that in his car, he’d be livid.”

“Then, we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t,” he answered with a sly smirk. “About that last time and… Well, the future ones.”

“Do it in our car next time.” 

“Oh, so there will be future occasions, huh? Noted.” His thin lips twisted in a devilish grin, pleased by the thought, saying it so shamelessly even with Beru bearing witness to the conversation. “Another reason for me to come back, then. Faster.” 

You turned flustered, shaking your head in disbelief despite your chest tightening in anticipation of passionate, spontaneous, breathless romance in the middle of nowhere, your body pressed against the leather seats, your breaths fogging the windows. “I-I take back what I said.”

“No takebacks, Sweetheart. You know I don’t like that.”

He spoke his last sentence almost in a husky, erotic whisper, reminding you of all the times in bed when you didn’t… behave properly. “Jinwoo, you said you didn’t want to be on the news. If we get caught—”

“For this one…” He sneaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. His lips grazed your ear, teasing and seductive, almost the perfect imitation of how you did it to him before. “I’ll be very, very careful. Don’t want the world to see just how beautiful my wife looks under the moonlight, after all.” 

You could already tell that his tantalizing smile would linger for hours in your memory, even long after he departed. You cleared your throat, regaining your composure. “I-is Jinho coming with you?”

He found hilarity in the way you swerved the conversation, but he made no comment on it. “No. He wants to, but I won’t let him. It’s too dangerous. I sensed something different with this one, something similar to that eerie feeling when I entered the red gate. It’s better if I go alone. I don’t want to risk anyone’s life by coming with me.”

But you’ll… risk your own life for it… The anchor in your chest returned, weighing you down harder than before. You were careful not to let your tongue form your concern into words, but Jinwoo, as always, was observant, attentive to the slightest change in your expression. 

“Hey.” He trapped your chin between his fingers, tilting it up, locking your gazes together. “It’s dangerous for Jinho, but not me. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

“I know you will,” you murmured, more for your own ears to hear. 

Catching Beru’s soft hum, you glanced to your side. The shadow soldier rocked your baby in his arms, swaying her from side to side, cradling her close as her lids began to grow heavy. “She must have been exhausted after playing all day,” you pondered aloud. Intertwining your fingers with his, you leaned against his shoulder, your sigh heavy as you whispered, “It’s nice to have Beru here with us, but… It also reminds me that you won’t be around. I’ll miss you, probably more than I ever did. I miss you terribly even now.”

For a moment, Jinwoo fell mute, doing nothing but curling his fingers around yours a little tighter. Then, with his jaws tightened, he released his command. 

“Beru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.”  ***

Next Chapter

Here's an audio track so you can imagine just how soft and wonderful husband!jinwoo sounds 😁

Beru the babysitter 😭

[suiana]

#rivalstoUNWILLINGlovers

(i keep seeing this game of throne short on youtube,whhhatt crazy man? no way, i hate my stupid chungus life, crazy+possessive man kills people for you, reader is unfazed, he gets blood on your WHITE CARPET??? gn reader)

you don't think your rival clan member realises that he's not supposed to pursue you romatically. or maybe he does and he's just ignoring it because tell me why you have new crazy lore?

he breaks in one day, a cocky smirk on his face as he asks to be by your side just like always. you refuse. that's fine, plenty of time to convince you otherwise. especially with this... new development.

plop.

the heads of all 5 of his leaders lie on the ground as he maintains eye contact with you. silent, a challenge.

"my beloved, i come bearing gifts."

there's that cocky grin, only this time there's blood all over him. you're disgusted, not because he just threw several heads on the floor, but because he's getting your carpet all dirty. does he know how hard it is to get blood out of this?

"get out of here."

"no."

instead of listening to you like he should've, your stupid fucking rival decides to wear his shoes into your room. he steps all over your carpet, blood sinking deep into your freshly cleaned floor. your heart beats erratically, throat running dry.

no...

your carpet...

your clean fucking carpet...

"dude, get those fucking heads out of here and leave. i don't need my-"

he cuts you off before you can speak anymore. his large frame imposing and blocking out the light from your view. your rival now stands before your sitting figure, smile cocky. his bloodstained shirt clings to his muscular frame, buttons holding onto dear life. damn those pecs are huge. you gulp, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

you could technically just reach out and grab them...

"i see you're looking at my second set of eyes."

crap.

you slowly tear your gaze away from those glorious pair of muscles, gaze connecting with his. they're all deep and dark, threatening to drown you in them. it's suffocating. every thing about him is suffocating if you're being honest.

and you hate that those eyes of his noticed your wandering eyes.

"don't worry, i like it when you're admiring me." he pauses, rubbing his chin. "makes me feel... special."

a shudder runs down your spine. okay, note to self, don't look at him anymore.

"aw come on, don't be shy now."

he lets out a hearty laugh, the tips of his ears turning a faint red. gosh you're adorable, he can practically see your thoughts written on your face as clear as day. how he wants to just... eat you up.

"after all, i didn't go through all that just for you to avoid looking at me."

your body freezes in place as he drags a bloody thumb across your lips. how could you forget that he just killed his clan's leaders for you? wait, was it for you?

"what is it"

as if reading your mind, your big tittied man leans in close, eyes wide and lips pulled into a teasing smirk. he lets out another deep chuckle, head shaking before his bloody hand finally leaves your face. damn, and now he's dirtied your face too.

"of course i did it for you, sweetheart. who else would i go to such lengths for? this is treason, baby. i'm a traitor now."

you frown at him. no fucking way. did he seriously just kill the clan elders and leaders all for you? he literally just did treason, betraying his clan! in the name of what? love? like what he always claims he has for you? no way, you don't buy it.

"just... get out."

"no."

a soft sigh escapes his throat as he ignores the glare you send him. he runs a bloody hand down his white shirt, so soaked in blood that it's basically translucent. no no no... don't look don't look don't look-

"i just killed 5 old men who told me i couldn't be with you," your rival mumbles, feigning hurt. "that has to count for something."

you want to say something. you do. but he only goes off into one of his other dramatic monologues again.

"they said i couldn't date someone from our biggest rival clan! said that it would tarnish the reputation!"

"so... you decided to kill them."

"well obviously."

he grins at you, gesturing to his... extravagant displays of love behind him. the heads continue bleeding onto your white carpet, a disgusting reminder of his infatuation for you. even if he likes you, he shouldn't have done that. there are hierachies for a reason!

and the blood is really starting to get on your nerves.

"the blood."

your rival finally seems to notice, backing up with a sheepish grin. he holds his hands up in surrender, acting like he didn't just cause an uproar in your community.

"oops, my bad. should i clean it up?"

well duh.

"hm... blood's a pain to wash away though..."

"you think?"

you hiss at him, arms crossed under your chest. wow now he's finally thinking of a way to clean up the blood stains. what a gentleman.

"i should just burn it then!"

"what?!"

he pulls out a lighter, a lovesick expression on his face. hold the fuck up! is he seriously trying to kill you both?! oh my fucking god what is this idiot doing?!

"ah... to die by your side, is such a heavenly way to die..."

"no no no! don't- NOT NOW!"

[beabatoru]

۶ৎ hey emo boy ! ⟢ emo! choso x reader

inspired by my old work . the only things you find good about the hot topic at your local mall are both the cd's and the cute emo boy that so happens to work there. you think you've been slick with your little glances, turns out he's been keeping an eye on you as well.

emo! choso does think its a bit weird that you've visited the store for the third time this week. maybe you're looking for a specific item that hasn't been restocked yet? you always look in the same area, so he figured that would be the answer.

emo! choso goes up to you on the fourth day to try and help you out only to be confused when you denied his assistance. its not your fault you're too shy of the muscular boy who's littered with piercings.

emo! choso ends up looking forward to your daily visits. unaware that the only reason you're here is to take a look at him to try and memorize every little detail to get off at the thought of him. your little toys barely do any work anymore and you're having a difficult time finishing even when you're thinking of him.

emo! choso begins to feel guilty when he tries to catch a glimpse of under your skirt that barely covered those cute lace panties you bought from the victorias secret across the store. the guilt quickly vanishes when he sees you checking him out.

emo! choso goes up to you again, trying to spark a conversation. he finds out you both like the same movie and invites you over to his place to watch it together. an invitation you obviously agree to.

emo! choso leads you to his house, opening the door for you to enter first because he's a total gentleman and not because he wants to press his bulge against you. your cheeks reddened as you felt it and you let out a quiet whimper. once he heard it slip from those pretty lips he wished to kiss, he pressed even harder. "you like that?" he asked.

emo! choso finds himself fucking you so sweetly and sloppy because he still can't believe he's deep into the pussy of his little crush. the pace he pounded into you had you seeing stars. it was so messy but intimate and his praises made you tremble. "mmh thought I didn't see you checkin' me out doll? you're so fucking wrong."

emo! choso babbled as you both entered the umpteenth round. he just couldn't get enough of seeing your cute tits bounce as he had you in a mating press. your expressions motivated him to go even harder until he slipped out to cum right on your tummy. loads of warm semen landed on you as he leaned down to press soft kisses on your cheeks, kissing the salty tears that spilled out of you from overstimulation.

emo! choso loved the noise of his headboard slamming against his wall, knowing his neighbors would definitely kill him later but he thinks they better get used to it, because this won't be the only time he'll be fucking you. no, he wants you to be his.

emo! choso takes you out on a date to the movie theater to make up for the movie you didn't end up watching when you came over. he bought the tickets and walked you over to your guy's assigned seats, way up top where no one could see you. it was an empty theatre anyways so he knew he'd have to make the most of it.

emo! choso glances over at you seeing how focused you were. so focused you didn't even notice how his hand slipped under your skirt, sliding your panties that were already damp to the side to graze his fingers on your wetness.

"cho.." you moaned quietly."

"shh baby.. dont want to get kicked out." he kissed your temple before slipping two digits in you, making a loud 'squelch' sound. "fuck, she's all wet already for me."

emo! choso is a big whimperer. he isn't afraid to be vocal because he is aware you are so into it. “mmf yeah take my cock baby.. no no.. s’ not big! it’ll fit just like every time! yeah such a good baby! oh shit.. ngh oh you’re tight!” he whined as big fat tears left your eyes. he had you on his lap forcing you to bounce on him as he kissed your right nipple with his pierced lips. the silver was cold against your tit and it made you gasp.

emo! choso walks out of the theater knowing nothing about the movie you both just watched, but with a new pretty girlfriend he absolutely adored hugging onto his arm, and a hardened cock that still wanted more.

© 2025 beabatoru. All work belongs to beabatoru . please do not copy, repost, plagiarize, any of my works as your own.

[thewitchblue]

Bruce isn't actually a playboy to the dismay of others. His wife is a shapeshifter and simply changes skins to keep up the reputation. Whenever someone comes to the door or she goes to a gala to support Bruce, she changes into a new person, unable to keep her hands off him as he gives whoever he's speaking to a smirk.

He wanted to flaunt her around, but he needed to keep Batman as far away from Bruce Wayne as he possibly could. This was the only way they could kill the rumours before they began. Nobody would suspect a playboy to be a fighter period, let alone be Batman.

It was actually her idea to use the playboy act to keep Batman's identity away from Bruce Wayne. They would never suspect Bruce Wayne. The closest the public has gotten to solve the masked vigilante was saying they are friends because of how linked Bruce is to the police. Even then, the rumour was killed quickly.

That didn't make keeping her a family secret easy, however. The boys nearly told the public multiple times because of how excited they were to have a mom like Batmom. If Bruce didn't intervene, Batmom would have been exposed, and it would have been all over the news. They are keeping her secret until they absolutely have to reveal her.

That all changed when the Justice League arrived at Wayne Manor after the heroes found out about his contingency plans. It was a trust exercise. One Bruce wasn't happy about, but he considered it necessary.

Nobody knew about her or her shapeshifting (which was the coolest thing ever to the kids) except their family. Batmom was kept a guarded secret and loved deeply by both of the kids she helped adopt so far.

The boys quickly learned to keep her a secret after a couple of close calls in interviews. Not even their friends knew of her. She always wore a different skin when they were around and acted all embarrassed about being caught as another fling.

Batmom waved to them as Bruce was giving them a tour. She was relaxing in the kitchen with Alfred. They were having a pleasant conversation that Batmom considered more engaging than the heroes. She assumed they would simply look the other way and dismiss her as another woman Bruce Wayne managed to reel in. After all, this is her regular skin. A skin she rarely wore outside the Manor.

"Woah, who is this?"

Barry asked Bruce with a flirtatious smile. Bruce glared at the speedster as he made his way to his wife's side.

"My wife."

He replied with a voice that promised violence if the heroes attempted to flirt with her. He pulled out a necklace that held his wedding ring on it and held her hand. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he'll be dammed if someone stole the best thing to ever happen to his family.

"You have a wife?!"

Oliver questioned loudly. Bruce quirked a confused eyebrow at Oliver. His friend seemed stunned. The playboy Bruce Wayne has a wife, and nobody knows about her?

"I see you with a new woman constantly. When did...this happen?"

With a timid smile, his wife waved her hand while shape-shifting into an entirely different woman. She changed her entire appearance. Hair, clothes, eyes, even her face and body type were different.

"This happened ten years ago, Oliver."

The heroes had never been more surprised. The cold, bad Bat had such deep love for his family that he couldn't even keep the adoration off his face when he looked at her.

Just as they began to digest the fact Batman is married, an excited seven-year old child came sliding in with an older kid grinning behind him. They seemed to be in a game of tag before the older one launched the younger into Batmom's arms with a massive grin on his face.

The woman giggled as she caught him, twirling in a circle while tossing him in the air until he, too, fell into a fit of giggles. She held him like Simba from the Lion King for a moment to show him off before holding him normally. She peppered kisses all over his face with a smile until he began squirming in her arms.

She grinned at her boys. They were her everything. She adopted them quickly after she married Bruce. The boys were excited to have a full family, so they agreed immediately to the adoption. They were her boys from day one.

She decided to show little Jason mercy, apparently as she stopped her affection attack. However, she kept him in her arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. She turned back to the heroes in normal clothes with a beautiful smile.

"Oh, baby birds, say hello to Bruce's colleagues."

Suddenly, both young boys were attempting to hide with shy smiles. Even the extroverted Dick was timid at first. Neither of them were used to the type of attention they got whenever they went out with Bruce. Not even Dick, who was a performer.

The elder of the two wrapped his little arms around her waist, which caused her to ruffle his hair affectionately. Suddenly, the heroes all understood why Bruce fell hopelessly in love with the mother in front of them.

"Wait, wait, wait, you kept a shapeshifter from us?!"

Barry asked. His brain seemed to finally compute the facts in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the happy family. Never in a million years would he ever think the Batman could be a family man with a wife and children. Batmom casually said,

"I'm afraid that's my own decision, Barry. We all agreed it would be for the best that I was a secret. We tried to keep the boys a secret, too, but they both seemed to have... other plans." She, quite honestly, never even considered fighting. Sure, she could, but her life was with her boys and Bruce.

A playful smirk played on her lips as she looked at her children as they sheepishly smiled back.

Jason squirmed in his mother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. He was still getting used to the unconditional love everyone in the family gave him.

With a gentle kiss on the top of Jason's head, she finally sets him down only for Bruce to pick him up again and place him on his shoulders. Tiny Jason squawked in protest. Dick snickered at his mother's side, still partially hiding behind her.

She smirked and playfully bumped him with her hip. Her family is her life, and she plans to keep them as close to her as possible. The League watched Batman and their Batmom play together with grins. They loved Batmom already.

[sturnswiftie]

there's just something about the way matt chews his gum...

that drives you absolutely insane.

and it’s stupid, really. ridiculous. there’s absolutely no reason for you to feel this way over something so insignificant. but you can’t help it—not when matt is sitting across from you, chewing his gum like he has no idea what he’s doing to you.

your eyes drift to his mouth, to the slow, lazy movements of his jaw. the rhythmic flex and release of muscle, the way his tongue flicks out just barely before pulling the gum back between his teeth—it’s messing with your head. with your pulse. with the heat steadily pooling low in your stomach.

somehow, he doesn’t even notice. instead, he sits there, chewing, oblivious to the way your breath has gone just a little too shallow. it shouldn’t be this attractive, shouldn’t make you press your thighs together while your boyfriend talks on the phone. but it does.

then, as if sensing your stare, matt’s gaze lifts to yours from the opposite couch. “yeah, i told you i could be there later. still plannin’ on it.” his voice is low and disinterested in his response, his attention more so focused on you now.

his chewing slows. one brow arches as the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips. “what?” he mouths to you, amusement playing on his features. he knows that look. he knows your body language. he knows you.

but in an effort to save your dignity, you suppose, you swallow and shake your head, heat creeping up your neck. “nothing.”

only you pretty much give yourself away the second your gaze falls back to his mouth, causing matt’s smirk to deepen. he shifts the gum between his teeth again, exaggerated this time, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, what you must be thinking about.

your breath hitches in your throat as you tear your eyes away, pretending to focus on something else, but it’s useless. even without looking, you can hear the quiet, slow pop of the gum between his teeth, can imagine the way his tongue rolls it back, the way his jaw flexes with every lazy bite; it’s maddening.

“hey, let me give you a call back, yeah? somethin’ came up.” you can hear the amusement dripping from your boyfriend’s deep voice, and you try to regulate your breathing again.

your fingers curl into the fabric of your sweater, a poor distraction from the warmth spreading through your body. it’s stupid. so, so stupid to get turned on from something like this, but the proof is in the way your skin prickles, in the way your thighs press together to relieve some of that building heat between them.

“baby?” you hear from the other side of the room, and a shiver runs down your spine. “y’sure you’re okay?” matt asks, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees, blue eyes studying every inch of you. his voice is teasing, like he already knows the answer, and it somehow goes straight to your core.

but he doesn’t stop.

“y’look kinda...” his tongue drags over his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh lightly, just for a second. “flushed.”

your breath leaves in a sharp exhale. “you’re annoying,” you mutter, but there’s no conviction behind it, and it only serves to further amuse your boyfriend.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “i don’t think that’s it.” he chews again—slower this time, exaggerated. when your body betrays you once again by shifting in your seat, his smirk deepens.

you could kill him. or kiss him. maybe both.

you can feel your resolve beginning to dissipate, your body squirming as it tries to relieve the tension building within. matt’s gaze never leaves you as he watches you unfold carefully, like he’s a predator enjoying the show, right before his meal.

“matt,” you whine quietly to him, your face crumpling with need. he can see just how desperate you are for a fix, for him, and he’s all too willing to oblige.

“i know, baby,” he all but coos to you from his seat on the opposite couch. you watch as he leans back into it, a smug smirk resting on his mouth as he lifts one finger towards you. “come let me fix it f’you.”

you need no further invitation. as soon as the words leave his mouth, you’re abandoning the uncomfortable seat so far away from him in favor of seating yourself right on top of his lap. you relish in the way his strong hands immediately find their home on your hips as you duck your head to find his warm lips, the taste of his minty treat still so frustratingly present.

you should be embarrassed. you are embarrassed. but that doesn’t stop the way you move against his lap, doesn’t stop the heat burning through your every nerve each time matt’s stupid, smug mouth curls into that teasing smirk.

“all this,” he murmurs, voice low and amused but also heavy with desire, “jus’ from me chewing some gum?” his hands squeeze your hips as he leans further into the couch, watching you with lazy satisfaction. “’s kinda pathetic, princess.”

you should tell him to shutup. should at least try to act like you have some dignity left. but the way he looks at you as you grind down into his lap, the way his fingers drag slow circles against your hips as you roll against him—it makes your brain short-circuit.

“y’should see yourself,” he continues, tilting his head, his voice dipping even lower. “breathless. squirmin’ around. all from watchin’ my mouth.” his smirk widens as he presses his hips up to meet you, making you gasp. “what is it, huh? got ya’ thinkin’ about what else i could do with it?”

a low whimper leaves your throat as your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding on like it can ground you, but it doesn’t. not when he’s right.

the brunette chuckles as he leans forward, his grip on your hips firm as he drags his lips along the column of your throat, his breath warm against your skin. “bet you were picturin’ my mouth somewhere else, huh?” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. “thinkin’ about how i’d sound with my face between your thighs... how i’d tease you just like this.”

you moan softly before you can stop it, and you can feel his smirk against your neck.

“yeah, baby?” he muses, rolling his hips up into yours again, slow and deliberate compared to the needy, quick movements of your own body. “that’s what y’want?”

you don’t answer—not verbally, at least. but the way your body reacts, the way you press down harder against him, desperate for more friction, more anything, tells him all he needs to know. his grip tightens on your hips, helping push you even harder against the erection in his sweatpants, a groan rippling quietly through his throat at the same time you gasp, the ridge of his tip hitting just right against your clit.

matt hums, dragging his tongue over the spot he’d just kissed, making you shudder. “you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself, like he’s genuinely fascinated. “just from this.” he pulls back enough to look at you, his eyes dark now, hungry. “didn’t even have to touch you properly. got y’self worked up all on your own like a big girl, huh?”

your cheeks burn, but you can’t stop. your hips work faster to push down on the thick, hard bulge in his pants, chasing the pressure and heat coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach. you’re so lost in the mind-numbing pleasure that you almost don’t register the way matt lets out a quiet, breathy laugh like he’s just been hit with some sort of realization.

“shit,” he murmurs, his voice low and gruff. his long fingers dig into your hips as he rocks up into you. “you’re really ‘bout to come like this, huh?”

it’s like the first time either of you are truly realizing it, matt’s eyes slightly wide with the truth, by the sight of your face burning with embarrassment, and yet contradicting it entirely by the way your desperate hands cling to his broad shoulders, searching for better leverage for your soaked pussy to grind onto his clothed cock.

you whine, burying your face into his neck, too far gone to care about how pathetic you sound. you can hear his own breathing hitch, his grip almost bruising at this point as he helps you chase that pleasure, as he helps himself to the same delicious feeling.

“you’re close,” he mutters, his previously amused tone now turning into something a little more needy. “fuck—so am i.”

you barely have time to process his warning before it hits you. the tension snaps, pleasure crashing over in waves, your whole body tensing up as you come with a strangled gasp. matt curses in your ear, his hips jerking up into yours one last time before he follows, his grip tightening as he groans into your shoulder.

for a moment, the only sound is your ragged breathing, the slow, steady comedown as reality sinks back in. you can feel the damp fabric of his sweats clinging to your sticky pussy beneath you, your bunched-up skirt no longer hiding the evidence of your need and release, but you don’t care. embarrassment can no longer find you now that your mind is hazy with the euphoria of a much-needed release.

soft and breathless, matt lets out a quiet chuckle. “guess i’ll have to keep some gum on me more often,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

you groan, smacking his shoulder weakly, but he only grins as he gives your supple hips one more gentle squeeze.

“relax, baby,” he teases, his voice still low and rough, satisfied, “i’ll put it to even better use next time.”

a/n. i've been thinking abt this ever since that stream where someone told him he looked hot chewing gum and i'd just like to say thank u to the queen who informed him tbh.

©sturnswiftie

divider by; @strangergraphics

[slashersiren]

Hi. I was thinking of asking you to write about Elder Yautja and a pregnant reader (hope that's ok, I couldn't find anything about whether you write about pregnancy or not...). They fly to Earth because she is madly wanting to "smell a hedgehog, no, this thing doesn't fit, I want a hedgehog from Earth" (or something like that, I'm not insisting, just so you get the idea). They meet the special forces/military, they classically try to kill them, and our favorite elder has hunted so many people in his long life that he's had enough of it (he's interested in hunting something scarier and spending time with his favorite wife-queen-life) and he just: *tired sigh* 😒

Here you go, I loved this idea so much, hope you’ll like the story too🫶🏻

Elder Yautja x Pregnant Human Reader

Cravings and carnage

He hunted monsters thrice as big as him. He torn spines from warlords. He survived galactic wars, assassination attempts, and the idiocy of youngbloods, yet none of that prepared him for you, barefoot on the deck of his ship, swollen with his child, waving a human fruit catalog at his face.

"I want watermelon,"

You declare, eyes narrowed, tone threatening.

“Not that tiny melon, not whatever that purple slop was yesterday. I want a real one. From Earth."

Your mate, towering, scarred, and very, very tired stares at you for a long moment. Then he makes a sound so deep and guttural it's probably a growl but could also be a sigh. Maybe a death wish.

"You said you want mango yesterday."

He rumbles.

"I changed my mind,"

You say sweetly, rubbing your belly. "Your child wants watermelon."

He pauses. That always works. You know it. He knows it. The baby is a card you shamelessly play.

“Fine…"

He grunts, pressing something on the console. You're getting your watermelon. The ship lowered into a clearing near a rural farming town. It was peaceful. Dark. Quiet. Ideal for a stealthy retrieval. But, of course, nothing ever goes smoothly when humans with guns are involved.

You stayed in the ship, mostly because he commanded you to, while your Elder stepped into the night, cloaked and nearly invisible, heading toward the nearest melon field with the calm patience of a warrior delivering a sacred offering. He had almost reached the field when the first helicopter appeared. Then two. Ground units followed, and soon the voices of human military echoed through the trees.

“Unidentified craft! Stand down!”

He sighed.

Literally.

A long, deep, guttural sigh.

When they fired the first warning shot, his mask deployed.

When they fired the second?

Heads rolled.

You nibbled on a protein bar in the ship, lazily lounging in the captain’s chair, occasionally glancing at the scanners. Blips disappeared one by one. The ship’s control beeped politely.

“Hostile forces neutralized.”

Moments later, the side ramp opened with a whoosh, and there he was. Covered in blood (none of it his) dragging a massive sack. He dropped it at your feet. Inside there were four perfect, massive watermelons. You squealed with delight.

“They smell so good!”

Your Elder just collapsed next to you on one of the padded benches, huffing out another long sigh, resting a blood-slicked hand on your belly.

“I am retiring.”

He rumbled.

“Sure, honey.”

You said, cracking open the first melon with his machete.

Later that night you were curled up beside him in bed, your belly against his side, fingers lazily tracing the long scar across his chest.

“You’re so good to me.”

You whispered.

His claws gently stroked your back. “You are my queen. It is an honor to slay armies for your satisfaction.”

You giggled. He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours.

“Next time,”

He growled softly.

“Warn me before you demand a fruit that requires diplomatic incidents.”

“No promises..”

You murmured, kissing the underside of his mandible.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Late Night

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Keigo hates threatning you - only when necessary.

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Threats.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

"Hey, c'mon, don't cry..." 

He tries, tentatively reaching with a hand but instantly stopping at the abrupt increase of your sobbing. 

"Y/n? Babe, pretty please..." he sighs, rubbing his tired eyes, "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? It’s getting late and I have to wake early tomorrow."

"Leave me alone." you howl the words out, as if you're a wounded dog. You feel like one, to be fair. Bunched up in a corner of this huge room, face contorted as you cry ugly tears and snot. 

It's only been a week since you were taken from the comfort of your life, and you still can't stop the aching pain that burns your heart whenever you think about it. 

During the day, it’s slightly more manageable to pretend that it’s fine, that you’ll eventually escape him, that everything will be fine.

But as soon as the dark cast of the night hits, it’s like all the overwhelming weight of sad reality starts to wear you down. 

You’re so tired of him. You just wanna go home and hide underneath the safety of your blankets. 

“Babe….”

Keigo sighs once again, leaning back at the adjacent beige wall as he runs his fingers through the blonde hair. 

"Hate to ask, but any chance you can speed this up? Not to the part where you relentlessly beg to go home, to which I'll say no - obviously." Keigo says with such normality as if he’s asking you to turn the lights off.

"Also not the part where you cry your pretty eyes out for another 20 minutes, yell shitty things, threaten me, and so goes on…”

You gulp, with a new batch of tears forming as he tilts his head to the side, lips curling into a half-smile as if your despair amuses him. 

“... but yes to the part where you finally shut up with the hysteria and we go to bed.”

You tearfully glare at him, indignation flaring up at his nonchalant words. 

“I hate you. You kidnapped me!" you continue, half-choking in your own tears, hoping the hatred and anger in your face is enough to show him just how much you hate him. “I hate you!” 

Keigo dismissively shrugs his shoulders, despite the new tension in his jaw as he glances at his wrist watch. 

“I’m not the bad guy here, babe.” 

“You-” 

“If I was the bad guy…” he interrupts you, an unpleasant glint in his eyes showing that deep your words didn’t sit right with him. “...right now I’d be punching a hole into your pretty face for being such a brat. Or maybe I’d be ripping your tongue out with my bare hands, so you won’t speak bullshit like that. Maybe you’d like that better?” 

Your eyes widen at that, body freezing as fear takes control of you. 

For most times Keigo is laid-back and chill, but times like these are the ones that remind you that he’s just as dangerous as a villain is. He could easily hurt or even kill you within seconds, and there was nothing your quirkless ass could do to stop him.

You are at his mercy, much like you’ve always been ever since he took you. 

You hate how helpless you feel. 

Keigo notices your mortified reaction and walks closer, crouching in front of you. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe.” he says with a jovial tone. “But I really need you to behave, ‘kay?”

His hand elevates and he ignores your flinch as he brushes away a few tears. 

“Enough with the tears, you’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that.” he smiles, hand lowering to grab your forearm.

He stands up, pulling you with him towards the bed. 

“Now, let’s go get our beauty sleep.”  

[127rkives]

uhhhh idk if anyone has discussed this before but... miguel likes to eat pussy from the back!!!

like idk, every once in a while, his brain goes brrrr and something short circuits. idk chalk it up to stress but it's more like some feral, animalistic urge. he can’t really explain it. it’s almost as if someone flips a switch, his mind goes blank except for the thought of needing to be with you, under you, in you. he has to stop whatever he’s doing and go find you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

and as soon as he makes it home to find you relaxed on the couch, he's flipping you over, contorting you face down ass up, and he’s nuzzling into your clothed pussy like a dog in fucking heat. when he’s finally spent just enough time shrouded in the scent of you, he's yanking your shorts off. he’s been at this for approximately 2 minutes but there's already a wet patch in the center of your panties. that sight makes his pupils dilate before going in for the kill. his claws come out to rip your panties to shreds right before he straight up nose dives into your pussy, and granted you can feel him, the action still catches you off guard enough for you to emit a loud gasp. it’s just too much too fast. “mig- ohhh!~”

“mmm... mmmf” miguel gets so much satisfaction from tasting you that he releases moans of his own. they would be bouncing around the room and intermingling with yours except right now he can't bring himself to pry his tongue from the slick walls of your cunt. 

“oh my gosh- miguel!”

hearing you raise your voice in alarm while saying his name is enough to make miguel pause for a second. you take the moment of reprieve to look over your shoulder— huffing and puffing— only to be stunned by miguel’s animalistic look. his curls are messily hanging near his eyes which are dark, yet spacey as if he’s on another planet. his lips are parted just enough to show a peek of his fangs as he breathes heavily through his mouth after suffocating himself with your pussy, and a gleaming mixture of his spit and your slick is smothered over half of his face and all the way down to his collarbone.

“m- miggy could you just give me a few seconds?” you ask. miguel tilts his head to the side and scoffs. a curt “no” is all you get before miguel locks his arms around your thighs to drag you back to his watering mouth. you don’t have claws like miguel but if you did the couch cushions would definitely be in shreds from the way you’re gripping them. 

the wet slurps of miguel’s tongue lapping at your cunt are soon paired with two of his thick fingers easily slipping in thanks to your arousal. he scissors them for a moment before adding a third. the speed he uses to pump them in and out and the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against your gummy walls leaves you floating in the clouds. you’re brought crashing back down, however, when a deep groan from miguel sends sparks up your spine. soon enough you feel pressure building at the bottom of your stomach, only it doesn’t feel like it usually does. in a fit of panic you try to drag yourself out of miguel’s grip.

“ohhh my go- miggy!” it’s all you can do to let out little slurred calls of his name, but it doesn’t matter. miguel’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. your escape attempts are useless, but the wiggling is enough to piss him off.

“querida. don’t move so much. be good.” but you can’t be still. the tingly feeling in your tummy is growing and all you can do let out breathy moans as you thrash around in ecstacy.

“ahh- i can- can’t help it!”

all of your moving loosened miguel’s grip too much for his liking. in less than a second, he's yanking you back towards his mouth and hoisting your hips just high enough to wrap his lips around your cute little clit. 

one hard suck is all it takes before you’re squealing at the top of your lungs. a scream of “miguel!~” is the only thing leaving your lips while your vision goes white and your breathing stops for a second. miguel is unrelenting behind you, switching to messily swiping his thumb across your clit and shoving his tongue back into your pulsating cunt in an attempt to catch every last drop squirting in to his mouth. 

even when your arms give out beneath you and you faceplant into the couch miguel is still lapping at your outer lips like he’s been saved after being stranded in the desert for a year.

and like that, it’s like the switch in his brain flips again. he smooths his hands up and down your trembling thighs and scatters kisses in a path up your back to the nape of your neck. “you okay, cariño?” a weak “mhm” is all you can muster up as you turn your head to flash miguel a floaty smirk. he smiles and chuckles, recognizing the foggy look in your eyes. covered in a sheen of sweat and high off the feeling of him is just one of the times miguel thinks you look the most beautiful.

after ghosting his hands across your skin and giving you a few minutes to calm down, miguel goes to gently move you to his lap. he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling all of you. with the little strength you have, you wiggle around in his lap attempting to get comfortable but something is in the way- 

“ohh~” miguel’s breath is hot on your neck as he groans into it. his fangs graze your skin, his hands grasp onto your hips for dear life and oh...

someone flipped the damn switch again...