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xiao-come-home · 8 months ago

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Boothill relationship headcanons;

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✰ Characters: Boothill x reader.

✰ Words: ~1k.

✰ SFW+N//SFW ; SFW mentions no pronouns or gender of the reader. N//SFW section was written with fem!reader in mind.

Warnings: THIS HAS A NSFW PART. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS skip this section if possible. some of these hc are based on this post, since i wanted to write a little more about it.

A/N: BRAINROT gRR he truly gives me doctor by Miley Cyrus vibes. idk how to explain it but take it

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Boothill:

SFW

he's such a gentleman! opens doors for you, pulls out a chair, kisses your hand when he sees you first for the day, it doesn't get boring for him at all. if you ignore some of his unhinged behaviors, then he's a perfect man.

like i mentioned in my previous post, he's VERY possessive of you. he does like to go to unknown clubs or bars with you to try out their best drinks in his spare time, though he doesn't have you attached to his hip (even.. if he wouldn't probably mind at all), he does keep a sharp eye on you. if a weird guy approaches you and you're clearly uncomfortable, he tries to intimidate the guy away and clearly let him see that you're his (aka placing his arm around your waist and pushing you into him), if being polite doesn't work, well, they have a rough night. not in a good way.

this man SCREAMS BACK HUGS!! since his body is like 90% metal and machines, he loves to embrace you from behind and wrap his arms around your tummy, while his chin rests on your shoulder. he misses the softness of his own skin, so having you gives him a lot of comfort; the warmth you're radiating makes him reluctant to ever pull away. boothill often finds himself touching his cheeks with his robotic arms, when they get warm enough - the feeling almost long forgotten in his mind.

speaking of back hugs: he's also very big on neck kisses, mostly giving than receiving, depending on how he feels, they're either very innocent and loving - very soft, paired with butterfly kisses, or biting you and then kissing it better, when things get steamy.

boothil finds it funny when his hair tickles you when he hugs you from behind. if he's feeling particularly like a little shit that day, he can annoy you the entire day like that, only to respond with "hmm? what do you mean? I'm not doing anything, baby!" ...don't tell him his smirk gives it away, but honestly, at this point, he probably doesn't try to hide it that well.

he DOES slap your ass when you go past him. EVERY time. it doesn't get boring for him, he likes the sound it makes AND how soft it is, bonus if it jiggles, then he's even more proud. he might offer "an apologetic massage," which you rarely agree to (but he'll try until u say yes).

if someone ever tinkers with his Synesthesia beacon, he cannot swear for his life. you might catch him trying to cook, spilling something, and then hearing loud "YOU LITTLE DAISY FLOWER! CUTIE PIE! CURSED FROG!" it's kinda impressive how colorful they can get...

speaking of his voice, he's probably able to manipulate it so it sounds the best according to your taste. although his flesh heart has been gone for so long, he still feels that familiar, warm feeling and squeeze of his own, mechanical one, when your answer is always the same - to modulate it so it sounds the closest to what it used to be, or that the current one is just as pleasant to hear.

he likes to kiss you. no matter where, or when. if he wants to, he'll get one, pressing you against him, cupping your face with one hand, and kissing your puckered lips. once you give in, he kisses you properly, caressing your cheek ever so slightly to ease any discomfort left, only to hold you tightly on your hips and whimper on purpose just to tease you more (i believe in boothill is a little shit theory).

if we assume his face is the only human part of him left (besides his eyes). In that case, he just truly loves the softness of your lips on his. he kisses you as much as he can, and will get all fussy and whiny if he doesn't get his good morning kiss, we-see-each-other-for-the-first-time-today kiss (note: this is not the same as good morning kiss), goodnight kiss and so on. yes, he could get it by himself, but he wants it from you first. he's just very stubborn.

watch out! he likes to draw blood on your lower lip when his intrusive thoughts win. he licks the blood off later, and gives it a loving kiss.

his hair is genuine, so he loves whenever you play with it, brush it, or take care of it in general. it's probably one of the very few human features of his, so if your boothill lets you carefully pamper it, let alone without flooding his cords, he's not only very impressed, but also very willing to indulge in more sessions.

finds it absolutely adorable when you wear his hat when he isn't looking. or, well, when you think he isn't looking.

N/SFW. minors and ageless blogs shoo!

the council has decided that he has a vibrator in place of his real junk. but if you're into experimenting and want him to feel a bit more, hm, natural - he's more than happy to change his parts. shape, size and pace - everything for his lady.

you can probably guess, but that's an absolute ass man. he sees you in tighter pants that hug you just so nicely and might go feral.

eats pussy like a starved man. he has no shame and licks, sucks, and fucks you with his tongue and THE SOUNDS could put the devil himself to shame. boothill always wants everyone to know that you're his, how you scream and moan for him, so in return - he never lets a drop of your juices go to waste, slurping and moaning into your slit.

he's literally so flexible, that he'll fuck you in every position you want him to. if it means he'll get deeper, he's on board. and probably on top of you too.

likes to grope you through your clothes. sounds very tame, but it really gets him going, and might sometimes cause trouble in public.. unless you WANT that trouble.

adding to the headcanon above - he truly just gets turned on by your skin, especially imperfections. stretch marks? he'll kiss them all, scars? he has them all memorized. when he touches you through your clothes, he already remembers what is where, it's like he's edging himself knowing that soon enough he'll undress you completely and see it clearly; he quite literally worships what truly makes you... you.

he. is. so. SO over when you pull on his hair. when you make out, when he fucks you - doesn't matter. DO IT and he'll go absolutely crazy, hissing in pleasure and grinding into you.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.headcanon #oops #gif by @/freyito!!

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elllisaaa · 10 months ago

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how seventeen would confess to you - vu vers.

-> pairing : svt vu × gn!reader

-> words count : 3.5k words

-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff

-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist

hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.

YOON JEONGHAN - SNEAKY

he’s a tease.

i’m sorry but do something ridiculous and he’s gonna bring it back until the end of your life.

but you’ve been friends for a long time, and you have many embarrassing things to remind him too.

so it’s really a silly little war of who will tell the most unhinged story about the other.

both of you like to do game nights, but you eventually realized how competitive he was, and how he didn’t mind cheating as long as he won, luckily, you were the same.

it makes you laugh most of the time, especially when he is like that with his members.

but he also knows when to calm down and be serious. he would be there for you without you even needing to say anything.

i think he’s a great listener too, ready to ease all your worries and remind you of your own value.

he’s the sweetest when he wants to, but he’s also a menace.

because he’s also flirty sometimes, playing it as a joke but deep down, he hopes that one day you’ll catch on how much you actually mean to him.

being the tease he is, his confession would be like that too.

“- So, I need your advice on a situation.”

You sat in front of him, handing him a hot mug of tea, enough to last through all his gossip. It was not unusual for the both of you to meet on your days off and just spill the tea about your coworkers and friends, laughing at each other's stories.

“- I’m all ears !

I have a friend who’s like… Really in love with his best friend, he has been for years actually. I think everyone around them has noticed how much he likes them, except them of course. And he wants to finally confess, but he doesn't know how to, and I don’t know how to help him myself.”

Jeonghan tried to not let any emotion show on his face as he was telling you his well-prepared speech. His goal was to keep on his little game for as long as he could, just to tease you like he loved too. He got out of his thoughts when you talked again, answering his indirect question.

“- Well, I think he should just go for it. If they’ve been best friends for this long, they should be as comfortable around each other as we are, and he shouldn’t be afraid of breaking their relationship or not. Like, if you were telling me that you have feelings for me, it wouldn’t change anything for me. You’ll still be my best friend.”

Suddenly, doubt was filling up his heart. Has he been mistaken by your behavior and his friends' comments about the two of you ? What made him so sure that you loved him like he loved you ? But now that he was there, he should finish what he started, right ? Jeonghan took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on his cup of tea, too shy to meet yours.

“- And if I tell you that this friend is me… Would you reconsider the best friend title ?”

The silence that answered his question encouraged him to lift his head from the contemplation of his drink, meeting your wide eyes already staring at him, making him giggle. You finally snapped out of it, a soft smile stretching out your lips as you reached for his hand over the counter of your kitchen, interlocking your fingers. Jeonghan hoped you couldn’t hear his heartbeat going crazy at the simple and sweet gesture.

“- It depends… If I get to call you my boyfriend, then yes.”

“you can call me whatever you want as long as i’m yours.”

HONG JOSHUA - SECRET

truly a gentleman like he’s holding the door for you, opens your water bottle for you, always asks if you need help when he has free time.

as seventeen makeup artist, you followed them on tour and on almost every event, being one of the seniors of your team.

and joshua always asked you to do his makeup.

you assumed it was because he had known you for a long time and was more comfortable around you than another younger makeup artist.

but as time passed, he started to throw little compliments between asking about your day and what you had for lunch.

he looooves the way you blush every time he tells you that you’re pretty. h

e’s so sweet too, always has one or two snacks ready when you come to do his makeup because he knows about your habit of skipping meals because of work.

he would inevitably end up giving you his personal number, and you would talk all day, coming to know each other more and little by little, you fell in love with each other.

but for the sake of both your jobs, it had to stay a secret, until one particular day.

“- Where’s Y/N ?

- Ah ! They had to replace someone that called in sick today. I’m sorry, I know you like her to do your makeup.”

Joshua shook his head, encouraging your coworker to go on and carrying a little conversation with her. But she could tell that he was out of it. He was thinking about you. About how he became so used to your presence by his side everyday. How not having you close to him, talking to him, touching his face had him feeling empty, as if something was missing. Well, you were missing. And he didn’t realize until now how much he was relying on you.

Of course, he knew how dangerous it was for his career to date you, how risky it was regarding your job too, but he couldn’t help being drawn to you everytime, and neither could you, like magnets attracting each other. He stayed professional on stage though, delivering his performance as perfectly as usual, but his members could tell that something was bothering him, and every one of them knew the reason very well : you.

“- Hey Y/N.

- Joshua ? What are you doing here ?”

He didn’t answer right away, gesturing for you to follow him to an empty dressing room. You couldn’t help throwing glances all around you, making sure that no one was witnessing this. But you trusted Joshua : he would never put you or him in danger voluntarily.

“- I have to tell you something. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I believe you feel the same about it but I need to tell you regardless.”

His gaze was so soft, so loving, you couldn’t ignore anymore how he made your heart swell. You had noticed that your feelings were mutual, but you also knew that you couldn’t be together.

“- You know we can’t… I don’t want to hold you back, I don’t want you to take such risks for me. You worked too hard for your dream to give it up just for me.”

Joshua could see your eyes filling up with tears, and he stepped forward, cupping your face in his hands in hopes it would comfort you. All he wanted was to take care of you, not to make you cry.

“- It’s gonna be complicated, yes, but I don’t want to give up on either my career or you. You’re so dear to me, I think you don’t realize how much you mean to me, how right it feels to be appreciated for who I really am. Maybe… Maybe we can at least try. I love you so much Y/N.”

And how could you say no to that ? To his lovestruck gaze focused on you, only you ? How could you reject him when he’s all you can think about everyday ? You stepped forward to hug him, relaxing in his hold and warmth as Joshua let out an audible sigh of relief too.

“- I love you too, I love you so much…”

“you’ll be my secret, this way I can keep you all to myself.”

LEE JIHOON - IMPOSSIBLE

i think that he would be a little cold with you at first, out of shyness and because he’s an introvert.

but you always made sure to include him In your conversations with the other members, and to talk to him even if he didn’t answer more than two words.

little by little, he started to open up, to feel really comfortable around you.

maybe it was because of the way you always focused only on him whenever he was talking, or because you were always interested in whatever he was doing.

would want you to listen to every song he produces before everyone else because he values your opinion so much.

he didn’t exactly know but he felt something so soothing when he spent time with you.

so when mingyu told him that you had a boyfriend, he was disappointed – and even more so when he finally met him and saw how badly he treated you.

jihoon would go on and on about how shitty your partner was, advising you to leave him, not only because of his selfish reasons, but mainly because he felt like the boy didn’t deserve you.

you would come to his studio after every fight, and he couldn’t do anything else than watching you cry your eyes out.

“- I’m sorry, I’m always here bothering you…

- You’re never bothering me Y/N, if you need me, I’m here.”

You tried to smile, but that only forced another tear to roll down your already soaked cheeks. As if he knew better than yourself what you needed, Jihoon opened his arms and you gladly accepted his hug, basking in his warm embrace.

“- What did he do this time ?”

Jihoon knew that his tone was accusative. But at this point, he couldn’t care anymore, he couldn’t bear to see you cry every other day because of an asshole who didn’t realize how lucky he was. And he could only assume that he did something bad, because all you’ve ever tried to do was make him happy.

“- He just.. Forgot our date, again… I’m so tired of this Jihoon, I’m doing my best for this relationship to work but he doesn’t even try…”

Your voice was muffled by his hoodie, your face still buried in his chest as you talked, but your words still broke his heart. He was tired too. Tired of seeing you cry, tired of seeing you wasting your time for someone who didn’t care about you, tired of seeing you think that you were not enough.

“- You already know what I think about this but… You should really leave him. You deserve to be loved, really loved. And he’s not loving you right.”

Slowly, you lifted your head from his chest, your teary eyes glaring confusingly at him.

“- But who would love me right ?

- Me. I would. I could be a better boyfriend than him.”

Jihoon lifted a hand, fingers brushing delicately against your cheek. He knew he could be good for you, knew that he could treat you well if only you let him, if only you let him one chance to prove it, he’ll do anything to make you happy. And you knew he would, knew that you would fit perfectly in his arms. But was it reasonable ? You had been with your partner for two years. Two years and still, what you felt for him never came close to what you felt for Jihoon, to how he made you shiver every time he touched you, to how he made butterflies come alive in your stomach every time he looked at you.

“- I think you could…”

And even if both of you still needed to figure some things out, you knew that you finally made the right choice. You were finally where you belonged to.

“i’m going to make up for all the times he couldn’t be by your side.”

LEE SEOKMIN - FLOWERY

sweet and funny.

i feel like he would treat you like his partner even if you’re not, maybe to hint at you that he has feelings but i mostly think it’s just because he cares so much about you.

he’ll do things like giving you his clothes when you’re cold, or feeding you when you want a taste of what he’s eating.

basically, it’s almost like you’re already together because he’s also very touchy and clingy.

he’ll hug you as a greeting every time, and he always has his arm around your shoulders when you’re sitting next to each other.

tbh, he would start to question your feelings at one point because was he not making it obvious enough that he had a big crush on you ???

but at the same time, he’s afraid that you mistake that for just a very close friendship so he doesn’t want to ask you straight away either.

so he would try to make something a little more sneaky by delivering a bouquet of your favorite flowers at your place, with a card only saying “i love you”.

“- Maybe they’re from Soobin ?”

You and your friend start laughing, but Seokmin, who witnessed the whole conversation, was not. Did you really think that these flowers were from someone else ? He clearly remembered the day you told him what your favorite flowers were, and that you also told him he was the only one to know that. So why would you lie to him ? Or tell it to anybody else ? Maybe it was nothing, but his heart felt heavy as he got back to his video game with Wonwoo.

You obviously noticed how Seokmin was very distant the whole day. It was supposed to be a fun afternoon with most of your friends, but you ended up being more worried about what was going on with him. Did you do or say something to upset him ? Did you hurt him in any way without being aware ? You couldn’t recall anything that could explain why he was so cold with you.

“- Hey Seokmin…”

The boy turned around when you joined him outside, and he couldn’t avoid you, nor the conversation that would follow this time. He knew that he was being childish, knew that he should have maybe just told you how he felt instead of being upset over you for something you were not responsible for.

“- Hi Y/N…

- You’ve been kind of avoiding me… Did I do something ? I just want to understand what happened so I can fix it.”

Seokmin closed his eyes and sighed, a pained expression on his face. He was dumb, he was so dumb. He wanted to make you feel loved, not like you did something wrong when it was him who was being sulky over nothing.

“- Fuck, no… You didn’t do anything, I promise. I’m just a coward.”

You looked at him, confused as you cocked your head to the side and Seokmin turned around to face you, trying to hold your gaze even if he could feel his cheeks start to burn from how ridiculous he felt.

“- The flowers… They are from me. And I heard you say that you think they were from Soobin instead and I… I don’t know why but it hurt because you said that you only told me which one were your favorites. And it made me feel so special, I wanted it to stay our thing.”

You stepped in, until you could hold his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his. The atmosphere had switched to a much lighter one as you smiled at him, finding him very cute as he tried to look composed but was really not, with his red face.

“- I was joking, I knew they were from you, they could only be from you. And yes, it is our thing, because I want to share this kind of thing only with you. You’re special to me, and I wanted to thank you for your gift but you didn’t let me.”

Seokmin shook his head, laughing at his own stupidity. But all that mattered to him was how it turned out in the end.

“next time i’m offering you flowers, it’s to celebrate our first date.”

BOO SEUNGKWAN - BRAVE

needless to say that he is a drama queen, always has something to bitch and vent about.

but obviously, you’re the same - that’s why you get along so well - so you’re always here to listen to all his gossip, and vice-versa.

i think that both of you would also hold a grudge about something ridiculous the other did years ago but that you still bring up during every argument (thinking about me and my best friend fighting over a piece of salad and a potato since middle school)

overall, it’s very entertaining to spend time with him because he’s so sassy… that’s hilarious.

since you gossip a lot, you know almost everything about each other's lives, you have literally no boundaries.

and you also love to sit down after a tiring week, with a show you both love as a background noise while you talk about what happened.

a very comfortable relationship, based on trust and really open-minded.

that’s why you’re not afraid to talk to him about your love life even if seungkwan always seemed to push back on the subject (understandable when he had a crush on you for years).

“- So you’re going to meet with him again ?

- Yeah, I think so… He’s not really my type usually, but he’s not that bad, and he’s kind so maybe I should give him a chance.”

Seungkwan scoffed, looking away from your face and focusing on the tv instead. He didn’t want to hear another one of your failed dates with guys that didn’t deserve you. He never understood why you did that, not when he was right there.

“- Why do you always react like that ? Do you not want me to find the love of my life ?

- It’s not where you will find it.”

You hit his shoulder playfully, but you felt a weight on your heart as he rolled his eyes. Seungkwan was never really interested whenever you talked about your current love life. However, he loved to bitch about your exes, but everytime you mentioned a new guy you were expecting to go out with, he seemed almost annoyed. You never understood why, because he loved drama so much, and your dating life was the best source of drama. But for some obscure reason, he stayed silent.

“- I just don’t want to be alone.

- We’re always together, you’re not alone.

- I know but… I want to come home and have someone waiting for me and hugging me. And I want to fall asleep in somebody else's arms. And I want to feel loved at the end of the day.”

Your gaze was focused on the show playing on the screen, while Seungkwan was watching you, noticing how your facial expressions had changed. He knew you weren’t joking anymore, and maybe it was time for him to stop being silly too.

“- I could do all that. You’ll never be alone if you were with me.”

When you looked at Seungkwan again, he was already staring at you, more serious than he had ever been. A smile blossomed on your face, because all you ever wanted was to be his.

“- Does that mean you're willing to offer yourself in sacrifice and be my boyfriend ?”

“if that means spending every day of my life by your side, then yes, i'll do it gladly.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie

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wildestdreamsblog · 5 months ago

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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: BECAUSE DADDY'S HOME! I am so, so so so so happy he’s back. Extremely proud of our blorbo. My heart is fulllll. Also pls note that Latibule and Elysian’s timeline is happening simultaneously 😁

Masterlist, Part V of __

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Jung Hoseok asked as he watched incredulously his brother, Kim Seokjin, ‘fought’ with Taehyung.

Or rather, as he watched him willingly got beaten up by the younger man. This was a rather peculiar event as their oldest hyung was rarely seen to be in this state. He always thought he was above petty brawls even when the maknaes begged the mafia prince to spar with them. They knew how good he was, if not the best among them. He had rigorous trainings since he learned how to walk. In fact, they witnessed how good he was, but Kim Seokjin was never one to brag about his skills. On the other hand, he always took pride on how he looked, never one to be seen with even a strand of hair out of place. His clothes were never seen with any crease at all that one would think he didn’t move throughout the day. It was so ridiculous that his pairs of sleepwear were of the highest quality. You’d never catch this man slipping.

See, one would think that he was truly a prince because of the standard he held himself in.

But now, he was not even pretending to put up a fight even as Taehyung landed blows after blows until the younger man hesitated. Even someone as emotionless as him knew something was wrong which proved just how peculiar their hyung was acting. Had he been in his right mind, he wouldn’t even let Taehyung’s fist near his ‘glorious’ and ‘worldwide handsome’ face. Well, his words and not theirs.

Hoseok and Namjoon, on the other hand, knew for certain that should Seokjin wanted to fight, he could do so. After all, they witnessed firsthand the unhinged and dangerous version of their hyung before he decided that he would rather pamper his skin with expensive creams and serums than the stark blood of his enemies, and well sometimes, even friends.

“Hyuuuung!” Taehyung finally snapped, pouting at Seokjin who had blood dripping from the open gash on his forehead. “You agreed!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he wiped the blood on his plump lips. “Did I? Because I vividly remember that you asked me to spar and I didn’t say anything.”

“You stood up and went in the ring with me!” Taehyung snapped back, his eyes wide before looking at his brothers as though to point out how ridiculous Seokjin was being.

Namjoon quietly chuckled at the scene in front of him. They were gathered somewhere in an unnamed basement building and two of his brothers were sparring as the four other brothers keenly watched as though this was the most interesting thing in their life. If anyone saw these six distinguished men in their respective fields acting like this, Namjoon thought that they wouldn’t even believe their own eyes. Heck, this dark basement had two distinguished police officers, the top doctor in the country, actor who won the most prestigious awards, a tech genius with numerous connections with the world leaders, and yours truly, the best attorney in the country that had a stellar case win rate and was constantly being asked by political groups to join them. They were just missing the chief of police, Min Yoongi. They still couldn’t reach him since last week.

They were used to him vanishing like that, but Namjoon’s senses told him that this time it was different. His eyes shifted to the smiling man next to him, his phone capturing the scene like he was always fond of doing. He couldn’t help but noticed the slight limp he was sporting when he walked in. His draconic eyes shifted to the faint bruises in his knuckles which he claimed were all from training.

“Right, Joonie?” Hoseok suddenly turned to him, his pleasant smile ever present on his face.

“What?” he blinked, suddenly dawning on him that everyone’s attention was on him.

“Where are you? Is Namjoon in the room with us?” Hoseok kidded before playfully bumping his shoulder. “I said, hyung didn’t explicitly give his consent to the sparring. Taehyung was wrong-“

“Hyuuuung!” Taehyung stomped his foot in indignation, acting like the baby they knew he was.

Jungkook chuckled as Tae’s statement, thoroughly enjoying the scene. “You hit Jin hyung without his consent. Tsk tsk.”

“But he went in the ring and stood there! Taetae is not wrong,” Jimin defended his agemate before letting his Slytherin ways that had always thrived in chaos won. “But then again, Taehyung, how can you hit that face? Come on, man, that’s just wrong.”

And chaos ensued as all five of them spoke over one another while the subject of the chaos was emotionlessly wiping the blood on his face with his towel he probably imported from Japan. He didn’t care of the chaos brought by his nonchalance in the violence, taking his sweet time to gulp water from his bottle as though nothing bothered him, as though the wounds and forming bruises on his body didn’t hurt.

“Fine, fine!” Taehyung relented, raising both his hands to stop the verbal assaults being thrown from both sides. “But why did he let me hit him so many times?! He could have stopped me! Hell, he could take all of us if he wanted to!”

“That makes sense,” Jungkook agreed, nodding his head before turning his doe eyes to his hyung who was now silently looking at his phone. “If noona sees you like this, she won’t like you anymore.”

“She already doesn’t like me.”

That was the first time he opened his mouth that night after brooding in the basement for so long and spreading his dark energy. Even Jungkook who was always found to be sitting next to him in any occasion opted to sit on the other side of the room.

“Who’s she?” Namjoon asked, his brows pinched together from confusion and curiosity. Girl? Hyung was with a girl when he didn’t even look at them before because, as he quoted, ‘why bother when his visual was better that theirs?’

“You know? The girl I posted in my Instagram story with hyung?”

At Namjoon’s blank stare, Jungkook exploded. “You still hadn’t followed me back?! The audacity, Attorney Kim! Until now, I’m still stuck as a liker and commenter on all your posts! All you follow is your secretary and all you post is her son and her! And plants! It’s like I don’t matter to you-”

“Okay, so who’s she?”

Jungkook blinked, “She’s a doctor in hyung’s hospital. She’s kind and pretty, and she likes Taylor Swift, and she bought me samgyupsal. And you!”

He pointed at his Jin hyung with accusation in his eyes. He squinted his doe eyes at him before sauntering near to him. “What did you do?”

Seokjin lifted his dark eyes on him before putting down his phone. “Why do automatically think it’s something I did?”

“Noona literally had heart in her eyes when she looked at you! And am I wrong? Was it not your fault?”

His silence was enough to confirm Jungkook’s accusation. He scoffed as he straightened up and thought to himself that somehow, in a room full of intelligent and capable men, he was surrounded by idiots.

“Fix it or else I’ll give the engineer in my office her name. He’s been pestering me to introduce noona to him ever since he saw her on my Instagram and I might just give it to him-“

“What’s his name?!” Seokjin cut him off, suddenly standing to his full height and with so much force that the chair he was sitting on fell back to the ground.

“No!”

“Get back here and give me his name!”

“I’m leaving!”

“Jeon Jungkook, you get back here right now! Where does he live?!”

Had you been an outsider to all this fiasco, then you would surely feel sorry for he-who-shall-not-be-named aka Voldemort aka Kim Seokjin. Had you been an outsider to this situation, then you would surely find this all funny.

But you weren’t. You were, in fact, in the middle of it all.

You decided the moment you went home after he slandered your name, belittled you, and short-of shouted at everyone that he would never fall for you because you didn’t pass his taste. In fact, and you quoted, you were ‘so below him’ and you weren’t the same stature as him that he was embarrassed for someone to even think that he felt something for you.

What a dramatic person, you thought. Why would you be hurt over a crush? Why would you even cry over it?

You sat with your feelings that weekend. You thought and thought hard enough to know that the reason why you bawled your eyes out the moment you exited that coffee shop and why you lost your appetite and stayed in bed was because all he said was the truth.

Were you beneath him in stature? Check.

Was his taste in women beyond you? Check.

Were you below him? Check.

Did he only entertain you because you were funny? Damn right you were. You were hilarious as fuck.

But still, you called in sick for work after weekend passed. You were still hurt and quite frankly, too embarrassed to even see him or any people from the hospital that knew how hard you were chasing him. You sat with your feelings long enough to realize that just because some guy, no matter how perfect he was in the outside, didn’t like you back did not mean that it was the end of the world. Your mother did not raise a weak woman. Well, she really didn’t raise you, but anyway!

You decided to do exactly what you did best.

Avoidance.

According to an article written by Lebow in 2022, somatic avoidance refers to steering clear from situation that elicit a physical response similar to anxiety or stress response. Right now, you were actively avoiding your greatest stress in life. So when you met his eyes as you walked to the entrance of the hospital, you pretended to not see him. You continued as though nothing was amiss, as though seeing him after hiding and housing your pain for days did not affect you in any way. You weren’t blind, though. You couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked. You couldn’t help but notice a faint bruise on his otherwise perfect face. You felt the gnawing curiosity forming in your mind as to how he got that when you thought that he was someone who would never get into a fight. Foolishly, you thought that he was someone who would rather resolve issues in a calm and civil manner than inflict pain on other people.

“Y/N, wait-”

You continued walking and like the asshole that he was, he didn’t take the hint that you didn’t wish to speak to him, nor hear whatever he had to say. He had embarrassed you enough to last a lifetime. The distance you placed between the two of you were rapidly closed by his long legs. If he noticed how you were almost running to the elevator to escape him, he didn’t say anything. By some miracle, you lost him as the lobby was now bustling with patients, visitors, and employees alike. You greeted your colleague as you entered the elevator. She was making small talk about what happened during your absence, yet you were too distracted to engage. Instead. you repeatedly pushed the close button, which she frowned at.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” she asked as she watched you act peculiarly.

“Just…you know. Running late.”

“Honey, it’s 6 in the morning.”

The doors were finally starting to close, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You knew it was too soon to celebrate when the door barely closed because just as the gap was about to disappear completely, a hand shot through, triggering the sensor and causing the doors to slide back open. Your stomach dropped as he stepped into the elevator, his eyes locking onto yours. The small, enclosed space suddenly felt suffocating.

Kim Seokjin stared into your eyes as he entered. His dark eyes held yours hostage even as you scooched to the left side of the lift. He sighed, merely nodding at the greeting of your coworker. His broad shoulders made the lift seemed small when it was anything but.

It was three floors later, and yes, you counted. You’d honestly rather watched the elevator screen than turned to him as he blatantly looked at you.

“Doctor Y/N–“ He started, almost making you jump when he broke the silence.

“Oh my God, what’s that?” you turned to your colleague, and now, a victim of your pettiness.

“What?” she frowned, sensing the tension between the two of you and wanting nothing but to get off the lift.

“I just felt chills in my right side,” you answered, rubbing your arms because fuck it, you were going to show him how good you could act. You didn’t join the theatre when you were in high school for the fun of it! Nope, it was just that you had always been dramatic and you thought it would be a waste of God-given talents, really.

She lifted her eyes sheepishly at the doctor that held the highest position in the hospital who only had eyes on you. “Y/N, that’s Doctor Ki-“

“Like a disturbed ghost. Very scary,” you shuddered exaggeratedly before clasping your hands and murmuring a short prayer. “I hope he finds peace. Or not.”

Seokjin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly. Your colleague glanced between the two of you, clearly uncomfortable and unsure of what to say.

The elevator dinged again, the doors sliding open, and you took the opportunity to escape the ghost of your past aka Voldemort. Fuck it, you thought. You’d rather walked five flights of stairs than stay another second with that man. Honestly.

You thought that was the end of it. You wished it was the end of it and you couldn’t be more wrong.

It was late at night when you finally finished your work. Your back was killing you, and you felt like another cup of coffee wouldn’t wake you up but rather send you to an early death. You were definitely not looking forward to your commute back to your apartment. Regardless of the weariness you felt, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the work you did today. You thought that you lucked out on the career path you chose because you were able to help people heal where it was the hardest to heal in.

But heavens, you just wished this job paid better.

You sighed as you exited the hospital, and you sighed even deeper when someone stepped in front of you. You knew before you even lifted your eyes who it was. The polished shoes and the obviously expensive suit were enough telltale signs that you were once again in front of him and that he was once again going to bother you.

“Are you going home?”

You looked directly at him for the first time since that day. And damn it! He looked good, you hated it. You tilted your head to the side when he smiled at you. “Come on. It’s late. I’ll drive you home.” He pointed at his expensive white car that was conveniently parked in front of the entrance, a clear violation of the hospital premises rules. But who were you to talk, anyway. He was the damned owner, and he could do whatever he wanted, apparently.

You scoffed as you walked away from him, spotting a taxi that just dropped off a passenger in front of the hospital. You’d rather commute than go with him, you thought. Just as you opened the door, a particularly large hand pushed it close. You looked up to see him leaning down and handing the taxi driver crisp bills.

“Leave.”

Never had you witnessed a taxi drove as fast as he did away from you, the tires screeching dramatically as he sped away from the building.

You turned to him, anger and irritation coursing through your veins. You were physically, mentally and emotionally tired. This was the last thing you needed tonight.

“That was rude.”

He lifted his dark brows at that. He looked down at you and only then did you notice that the hair he usually kept neat seemed slightly disheveled.

“Actively avoiding me, calling me a ghost, and walking away from me when I’m talking to you is what’s rude,” he shot back, his voice just as dark as his eyes.

“Calling me beneath you is ruder, don’t you think? Acting like you were my friend when you were merely toying with me is more improper, don’t you think?”

He flinched at every shot you took. His blunders were by no means light, but he wanted-. No. He needed to make this better. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat and his face lost the glow he had always bragged about! This was a disaster, and this was him putting it on a lighter note.

“I’m-“

“Look, buddy,” you breathed, easing the irritation you were feeling. “What will make you stop?”

“I want to apologize-“

“K. Do it,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, wanting this to be done so that you can at least get a roughly five hours of sleep once you get home.

He frowned, blinking rapidly at your sudden change of heart. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry-“

“Forgiven. Bye.”

Part VI

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin fic #yandere kim seokjin x you #YANDERE KIM SEOKJIN X READER #bts mafia au

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shalotttower · 8 months ago

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To Make a Home Out of Bones

Title: To Make a Home Out of Bones

Fandom: BTD2 (Boyfriend to Death 2)

Characters: Ren Hana x Reader (female)

Summary: You were free. Free for real, and you couldn't believe that, staring at the open door. And then, by some twisted scenario, decided to keep him. It's tragic, really.

Word count: 2300+

Notes: yandere!Ren Hana, captivity (past Reader and finally in present not Reader :D) Reader is sensible though and there's nothing crazy going on on her part apart from the captivity scenario, mostly tired vibes/attempts to process what happened, unhealthy coping mechanisms, past torture, past manipulation, possessiveness, past dubious consent, past non-con, Reader doesn't know about Strade.

You don't talk. You never talk nowadays and it feels almost liberating, not having to converse. Ren doesn't look as intimidating as he used to. Maybe it's because of the collar, or maybe it's because he doesn't wear that damned jacket anymore, the one which seems to change his whole being into something unhinged and cheerfully vicious whenever he puts it on.

Is this what he felt, watching you tied to a pole?

No, hardly.

There was a very tangible sense of power in your captivity.

You, however, don't feel powerful at all.

You feel like an old tree: splinters, rotten wood, and bark waiting for the storm to come and snap the trunk in the middle.

Freedom is strangely anticlimactic.

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You don't know how long you've been here, stopped checking a wile ago because it didn't matter ─ to be dragged back from the basement on Wednesday or on Saturday. Days became a sequence of events, not dates, once you realized Ren planned to keep you indefinitely.

Have breakfast, tell him it was good. Do the laundry. Watch TV, let Ren cuddle up to you, ignore the presence of another in the same room. Smile every time he says something nice and expects to hear it back. Let your eyes glaze over during sex, try to remember what it felt like to have someone touch you without making you bleed. Wake up to a sleepy fox curled up on top of you. When Ren dreams his ears twitch.

It takes approximately five minutes for him to settle for sleep, tangled limbs and pointy nose buried in the crook of your neck, and he's surprisingly light for a grown man. With how tough Ren seems (or wants to), there's some sort of innate clinginess about him that contrasts so much with the image in your head: smiling through bloodied teeth while nailing your leg. At first you thought being nice was a way out of this, but kindness is a double-edged sword here: soon you realized how utterly you misjudged him ─ and how truly screwed you were.

Because Ren, while cooking you tasty meals for "being good" and letting you watch TV, likes kisses and hand-holding, and cute things. But Ren also likes the way you sob no less, and that's where the miscalculation happened. Being nice only guaranteed with some unsteady sense of security that he wouldn't kill you yet. That was all. He's sweet, snuggly, affectionate until he isn't, and no amount of good behavior or praise will stop him from breaking your fingers if he feels like it.

Your routine had been simple for months. Easy. Unbearable.

And now all the world which was limited to one single house for god knows how long expands again, but you don't really feel it, even after reaching the small front gate.

You could leave him there, you think. In the basement, and no one would ever know. Lose the key, never come back, just-

Not go back. And all of this will be behind you. You'll never have to see him again, never have to smile for him, never have to hear that shaky sound he makes when he cums, or witness his face turn from carefree to confused, and then to understanding, then to annoyed.

A death like this seems fitting for him. Cold concrete and silence; starvation is an awful, terrifying way to go. You noticed that Ren doesn't really like to be alone, and there's almost poetic justice in leaving him in the basement to slowly rot away.

Your fingers curl around the iron handle and with something akin to astonishment let go of it, then fall limply to your side. You're free, yet you stay rooted to the spot, because frankly speaking where does one go from here? Your rent must be long overdue, and your face is probably everywhere, plastered on missing person posters.

'Hey guys, I'm not missing anymore', you imagine saying to your co-workers, 'sorry for disappearing, I guess. Do you still need that Excel sheet done?'

Your employment contract had probably been terminated. The bank account should be fine, Ren took you right before the paycheck, and there's mom's house to crash at until everything goes back to normal, but that surely means cops getting involved, and lawyers, and media. Just the thought is exhausting.

'How did Mr Hana treat you? Were you intimate? Yes or no? Please, tell us more, miss. How do you feel? What about Mr Oleander, did you know him?'

The wind picks up, blowing leaves and ruffling your hair.

Ren will go to jail. Obviously — kidnapping and killing people equals prison time. The problem is that it doesn't bring you any kind of satisfaction. You don't want Ren here, but you also don't want him peacefully living his sentence while you pick up the pieces of your old life. There's no closure in that, but again...can there be any?

You sit down on the porch; cold wooden boards creak under your weight. Ren has a nice little suburban house.

What now? You have no fucking idea, just vague notions of an unclear future, and nothing substantial.

What now indeed.

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He fed you regularly, that's true; you stand at the basement door and watch him eat.

Ren allowed you free roaming within the house premises, an access to TV, books, hygiene products. Reading manga together felt almost domestic, yet...you keep him there. In the basement.

It's strange, seeing him like this, but he doesn't look surprised at the new turn of events, he looks almost resigned. A mirror of yourself in a sense, you think with a finger hovering over the button. Ren's ears are flattened, tail tucked between his legs, a submissive, harmless thing. You could let him out, allow him roam the house freely just the way he did. But you don't.

It sounds straight off foolish, and what's more important ─ scary. There're so many possibilities. That the remote won't work, that you'll be too slow to react, that he'll sneak into your room at night. Ren can be very quiet when he wants to. So you keep him there, and avoid him like plague unless necessary — feeding duty twice per day plus bathroom visits.

No chatter, minimal contact overall, but Ren starts talking anyways.

"You look tired," he says cautiously in between the bites.

He does it a lot, tries to gauge where you two stand every day or what's on your mind, and you suspect it's the result of past experiences, something that's hard to unlearn. Something connected with that body in the freezer. Upon finding it you initially assumed (not without a reason) that the corpse was his doing, but when Ren undressed before you for the first time, realized that it might not be entirely true.

The cuts, the burns, the marks and deep, jagged lines formed a familiar pattern. Someone had put a lot of time and effort into giving him those.

"I could make coffee. Or tea."

And that's another thing. He doesn't fight you, or attempt to lash out. Instead he makes those little offers here and there whenever you come down the stairs — dinner, help cleaning the dishes, washing clothes. He has been compliant and eager to please to the point of it being almost unnerving.

You don't reply, and that seems to bother him, judging by his expression. Understandable: silence is normally a bad omen, especially in situations such as this one.

"Are you going to-" he starts again, but you cut him off.

"Push the tray over."

Ren's ears twitch at the command and you briefly wonder if he expected something different to happen. The tray makes a metallic screech over the concrete floor, stopping right in front of your feet.

"Thank you," he says.

'Thank you for breakfast, thank you for lunch, thank you for dessert.' 'Thank you for the nail gun, thank you for holding my hand while I screamed, thank you for fucking me after.' You hate the words now, the way they used to roll off your tongue (thank you, Ren, thank you), because they never meant gratitude at all and felt bitter, like a moldy fruit.

Ren's eyes are trained on your face. There it is again: the strange uneasiness which settles in your chest whenever he stares with focus sharp enough to burn holes through flesh itself. His gaze travels lower to your arms exposed by rolled up hoodie sleeves. You had no clothes here except for cutsey underwear and pajamas which Ren insisted you wear, but those are long thrown away somewhere in the trash, so the only things available are his. There's also...other stuff you found in the locked bedroom on the second floor: cargo pants, combat boots, tank tops, all neatly folded. Far too big for you both.

"Is it mine?" Ren asks and leans forward.

"Is there a problem?" you ask back, then regret it.

Questions mean opening a door to unwanted dialogue. His cheeks turn a little pink.

"No. It looks good on you."

Your stomach churns in discomfort at the compliment and the carefully concealed delight Ren won't voice out loud, but drops indirectly from time to time. Not only this, but the familiarity, the implied "you're used to wearing my things by now" which, in essence, is true. It's either that or walking around naked. Ren must notice your reaction, because he quickly averts his eyes to the floor. Silence settles over the basement like a thick, heavy blanket of snow.

Stop feeding me with submissive bullshit, you want to say. I know what you'd do if not for the collar, I've seen it from the first row. Stop pretending to be harmless when we both know you aren't.

Ren fiddles with the hem of his shirt. The change is so drastic. He was a little scary at first when you met, then downright terrifying, and now...now he's just a whole another person.

You pick up the tray without a word and leave. Ren's ears droop once he realizes the conversation for today ended before it even started. But there will be tomorrow. And the next one after, and the next one, and the next one. He'll keep trying to talk, and you'll keep ignoring him until he finally stops.

You don't know what to do with him. You don't know what to do with yourself either.

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There's no distance wide or far enough to allow you proper sleep. You toss and turn under the covers despite exhaustion pulling at your eyelids and eventually settle for a late night movie or two. Ren's DVD collection is...well, to put it bluntly, weird for someone like him. Cheesy and romantic movies take around thirty percent of his library, while the remaining seventy is filled with horror flicks and anime. You go through the titles: Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Tokyo Mew Mew. Some of those you watched together, curled up on the sofa, others Ren had recommended enthusiastically whenever he caught your glances.

'It's really good! I think you'd like it.'

'This is my favorite.'

He remembered the details about each series, all the names, plot twists. A die-hard fan to the point you wondered why didn't he try cosplaying himself instead of dressing you up. He'd pass as some sort of a fox/cat character easily. Maybe he did cosplay before, who knows? It wouldn't surprise you.

The clock ticks 2 AM. Your mind goes back to the basement door and what lays behind it.

Ren knows that you sleep terribly. You know he does too ─ that's one more trait you two share except for the scars.

You click on the first episode of "Arcane Moon Whispers". The opening plays through the old speakers — happy, cheerful music; you wonder if he can hear it downstairs. The basement is soundproofed, but Ren has sharp hearing. It became clear early on, in the way his ears would twitch towards the noise of your footsteps when you still wore the collar.

The plot unfolds in front of your eyes: a magical team fighting evil with the power of friendship, love, and hope.

'They have an entire arc dedicated to time travel,' Ren explained while showing you the box sets, 'it gets a bit confusing halfway through but it's fun!'

It's been three weeks now. Three weeks since your freedom began and yet Ren lingers in your head as strongly as ever, like a ghost haunting your dreams and waking hours alike. It's frustrating to say the least: having him locked away yet seeing him everywhere — in the kitchen cabinets full of sweets he likes, in the bookshelf full of manga he read out loud sometimes until you couldn't bear it anymore and had to tune his voice out, and in the drawer you pull open every morning.

Ren is like a stain.

It makes you sick, actually. It makes your chest ache with something that feels dangerously close to guilt but can't be it. You're not guilty for what you've done, keeping him there is reasonable, understandable, and Ren...he deserves everything after what he put you through first.

You tried so hard to be nice to him.

You were nice.

But nice isn't enough when someone wants you hurt. Isn't enough to stop a knife. Nice is a useless commodity.

A few more episodes later you're still wide awake.

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #btd2 #btd2 fanfiction #ren hana #ren hana x reader #I wanted to make it longer #it was longer in fact #but I really disliked the way the rest turned out #dislike is a weak word tbh lol #freaking hated it #so after like three days of trying to write an ending and deleting stuff #just gonna post it like this

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charliedawn · 1 month ago

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hey Charlie I was wondering if you could do a fix about the slashers finding out that the nurse is like one of them she’s like Jennifer from Jennifer’s body?

Jason Voorhees:

Jason is the first to notice the change in you, though he can’t explain why. His silent, observant nature makes him more sensitive to shifts in behavior, and lately, he’s sensed something darker lurking beneath your usual calm demeanor. When he finally catches you feasting on one of the hospital staff in the dead of night, he freezes. His mind flashes back to the moment when he saw his mother kill his father—protecting what was hers. There’s no fear in his reaction, only understanding. Jason doesn’t judge you for the monstrous side that’s been hidden for so long. Instead, he sees you as one of them, someone who, like him, has a violent nature lurking beneath the surface. He let you finish your meal before talking to you.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms had always known there was something more to you, something that drew him in. Your touch soothed his mind, but it was the darkness he sensed that truly made him feel connected. When Brahms stumbles upon you feeding on a victim late one night, his first reaction is confusion—how could his gentle, caring nurse be capable of such a thing ? But as the truth settles in, his fear is replaced by admiration. You’re like him, hidden behind a mask of normalcy, but with a dark and monstrous core. Brahms becomes ecstatic, wanting to be closer to you, obsessed with the idea that you’re both connected by the darkness all slashers share.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo knew something was off when he started seeing you sneak out late at night. Suspicious by nature, Bo eventually followed you and witnessed you devouring someone in a secluded part of the hospital grounds. His initial shock is quickly replaced by amusement. A twisted grin spreads across his face as he watches you wipe the blood from your lips. "Well, well, darlin’. Looks like you’ve been hidin’ more than just that sweet smile." He spoke up and your eyes widened before you turned around to see him standing there. He’s not disgusted, if anything, he’s impressed. To Bo, this makes you even more desirable—beautiful on the outside but deadly underneath. He starts to feel like you’re his perfect match. From then on, Bo sees you as his equal, someone just as dangerous and unhinged as him. He even got the idea of assisting to every single one of your ‘special meals’.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent discovers your secret when he finds one of your victims hidden in the basement of the hospital. At first, he’s horrified, not because of what you’ve done, but because he fears you’ve become something he isn’t used to. Vincent is a creature of habit. He would be unhappy that you didn’t tell him. His silent nature means he doesn’t confront you immediately. Instead, he watches, studying the way you carry yourself, noticing how much more confident and predatory you’ve become. When you finally reveal your secret to him, Vincent isn’t afraid. He feels a sense of kinship with you. You’re both artists in a way, creating death and destruction from the beauty you present to the world. He becomes your silent ally, crafting new ways to hide your victims and ensuring you remain safe.

Freddy Krueger:

Freddy is the only one who isn’t surprised. "I knew there was somethin’ different about you, dollface," he says with a smirk when he catches you in the act. Freddy’s not disgusted or disturbed—he finds your predatory nature exciting. "Want some help cutting that, sweetheart ?" he taunts, leaning against a wall, watching you with dark amusement. He finds it hilarious that you’ve been hiding this from the others, and now that he knows, he feels like it’s his secret to hold over you. Freddy teases you endlessly about it, but deep down, he is excited about what he will get out of this, knowing how much chaos and misery he could cause by just opening his mouth.

Michael Myers:

Michael doesn’t react the way most people would. When he finds you tearing into your prey, he simply stands and watches. There’s no fear, no shock—just silent observation. To Michael, you being a predator doesn’t change anything. In fact, it makes him feel closer to you. He knows what it’s like to be driven by something dark and violent, and seeing that same hunger in you makes him feel an unexpected connection. He doesn’t say anything, but after that, he would keep a closer eye on you. He doesn’t see you as a threat—just someone like him, someone who belongs by his side in the shadows. But, he wouldn’t interfere as long as you do not put him or his children the other slashers in danger.

Pennywise and Penny:

Pennywise senses your change before anyone else does. He can smell it on you—the shift from human to something more sinister. "Oh, you’ve been hiding some nasty little secrets, haven’t you ?" he sneers, watching you from the shadows. He’s intrigued, curious to see how far you’ll go with your new hunger.

Penny, on the other hand, is more playful about it. "Does this mean we get to share meals together now ?" he asks with a wide grin, eager to see you in action. Both brothers are delighted to see the dark side of you emerge, feeling that you’ve finally become one of them. They take a twisted pleasure in the idea that you’re no longer bound by human morality, now you are something dangerous and wild, just like them. A GOD.

Jack Torrance:

Jack is both fascinated and unnerved when he catches you feeding. On one hand, he’s drawn to the raw violence of it, something that reflects his own descent into madness. On the other, it terrifies him because it makes him realize just how far gone you are. "You’re just like me, aren’t you ?" he mutters, half in awe, half in fear. The discovery sends him spiraling further into his own delusions, convinced that you and he are destined for some kind of violent, bloody future together. Jack becomes obsessive and erratic, unable to control his own dark impulses around you now that he knows the truth.

"You and I are gonna do GREAT things together, sweetie."

Father Paul Hill:

When Father Paul Hill learns about it, he is deeply shaken. His first instinct is to help you, to save you, but when he sees the way you’ve changed—the hunger in your eyes and the power you now wield—his faith falters. The way you drain life to sustain yourself reminds him too much of his own curse, the blood he craves.

Though conflicted, he can’t abandon you. He struggles between his duty to his faith and his feelings for you, knowing you’ve crossed a line he can never fully reconcile. Part of him is tempted to join you, but the weight of guilt holds him back. He becomes consumed with the desire to find a way to pull you back from the darkness, even if deep down, he knows you may already be lost.

Father Paul *takes you in his arms and kisses your forehead* : "Please…Do not lose yourself, Nurse Y/N. If you do…then we will all be."

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 2017 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #jack torrance x reader #father paul hill #father paul x reader

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libraryofgage · 11 months ago

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Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

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junipum · 1 year ago

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s5e16 house takes methadone, it cures his pain completely, and when cuddy says he can’t take it at her hospital, he basically quits without a second thought. he's fully choosing a painless life over one that he's comfortable with and knows inside out, despite the recurring issue with him and change, be it positive or negative. whether this is destructive behavior, or if it's truly what he's willing to give up is your interpretation, but either way, he's choosing being pain free over anything else in his life, as he's done time and time again.

he will literally try ANYTHING to feel physically okay because he's so accustomed to living in constant agony. he's done extremely dangerous things to stop, delay, or even mildly treat it (experimental drugs, faking cancer for meds, life threatening treatments, etc). in the scene on the coma bus with amber, though its a hallucination, he has to rely on his own guilt/subconscious to pull him away from the choice of life or death. he's more than tempted to give up and accept death right then and there, because it "doesn't hurt here," and because he believes wilson will hate him if he comes out of it alive.

and THEN, you have the C word. when he willingly gives up the last of his vicodin to help wilson feel better. because as much pain as he himself is in, he doesn't want wilson to ever experience anything similar, and if he can even help just a little bit, it will be worth it. he couldn't give up pain relief for anybody in his life except for wilson. cuddy and stacy, two women i do believe he loved, were not enough for him to give that up. not his job, not his intellect, and not his pain relief. but for wilson? barely a second of hesitation. he can throw away his vicodin, his physical health, and entire being away if it means he can be with wilson, in any capacity and as unhinged as they are.

#they're unhealthily healthy #doomed toxic yaoi is the best genre bc you can argue both ways !!#are they awful for each other? do they need each other more than anything else in their lives that's important ?? up to you!#house md #gregory house #hate crimes md #james wilson #hilson #5x16

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ma1dita · 2 months ago

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꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ welcome to ma1dita's monster mash ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

[REQUESTS CLOSED] trick or treat yourself this halloween season to a special and (mostly) spooky selection written and produced by yours truly!

[STARRING]

sylus (LNDS), joel miller, steve harrington, spencer reid, luke castellan, zuko, the marauders, regulus black… check my guidelines or suggest a character that i can try my hand at!

[FEATURING]

the graveyard smash - they’re bone-ing for sure! (viewer discretion advised, 16+) give 'em pumpkin to talk about - envy is a green-eyed monster and they were broommates - your roommate is hiding a little secret… here for the boos! - too much boo-ze and chaos will ensue

don’t forget to grab a snack, kick back and enjoy the show! (pick up to two so you don’t have to leave during the movie)

🍿 - “Just forget you saw this happen.”🍬 - “I’ve just never seen you this mad before.”🥨 - “Don’t. Move.”🍫 - “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.”🍦 - “I know what you did.”🌭 - “Please just play along.”🥤 - “How long have you been watching me?”🍟 - “Blood? Oh it’s not mine.”

[example request: can i get one ticket for here for the boos! starring zuko with a popcorn and soda please! ]

additional warnings: expect gory, unhinged, dubcon, yandere-esque, slightly scary behavior from these fics; i wanna expand my repertoire! i will not do any repeats once a certain combination of character and prompts are requested! please do not ask for anything super specific! don't expect angst because i write enough of that anyway— let’s get spicy and weird and have fun with this ;)

the film festival will end on 10/12/24 & be posted throughout the rest of october <3

monster mash-terlist

all works tagged under #ma1dita's monster mash 𓉸ྀི

navigation

#ma1dita's monster mash 𓉸ྀི #luke castellan x reader #zuko x reader #spencer reid x reader #steve harrington x reader #marauders x reader #sylus x reader #regulus black x reader #joel miller x reader #pjo x reader #harry potter x reader #atla x reader #pin pin pin !

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the-hopeless-haze · 2 years ago

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I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

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“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

#Aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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babyangelsky · 5 months ago

Text

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 5

I love this show and everyone in it so so much. I know it's going to hurt me at some point but I don't even care because right now it is giving me absolutely everything I want.

Peat Wasuthorn Chaijindar, I truly and genuinely love every single thing you do with your face.

Also! If anyone would like to be tagged in these posts every week, do let me know!

I'll say it again: one of these men does not yet realize what they signed up for and it is not Mahasamut.

Tongrak is a prickly little cactus but he does care for Mut, and I love that he got to see Tongrak get worked up on his behalf.

Hearing Vivi say her name like that shorted a circuit in my frazzled girly Mook's brain.

And Vivi knows it.

I do love Vivi. I especially love the way she looks at Mook when she's venting. She may be a menace, her strategies may be unhinged, and she may like teasing Mook a little too much, but there's so much fondness in her expression when she's with Mook. She never interrupts, she just loves listening to that girl regardless of what Mook is saying.

Also shout out to the craft services auntie who heard Mook venting and brought her a treat. I would've done the same.

"I want to take care of your life," Mut says, stopping Tongrak's annoyance dead in its tracks. Mut's sweetness and earnestness are so disarming for Tongrak and I love the little moments where we get to see it.

"Let me take care of you." I wonder if anyone has ever said that to Tongrak and meant it.

However, I will be taking that "old-timer" personally, Mut. Tongrak and I are NOT OLD.

VIVI LOVES THAT GIRL. Mook could read her the dictionary and she would be enthralled by her voice the whole time and I will be dying on this hill.

"You don't even like women." Kaimook. Be so serious right now. Look at the way she looks at you! I refuse to allow you to join me in the circus, there will be no clown behavior from you, miss ma'am.

I am so very familiar with this look. I'm sure it's been on my face for at least half my life. It's the sort of profound exhaustion only someone with a difficult family understands. Your whole day is about to be ruined by a battle you don't want with a person you despise but not fighting it is not an option. I both love and hate how dead Peat's gaze managed to be because it hit so close to home.

911, yes hello, I would like to report an imminent murder.

Mut:

I could not love these men more. Truly I could not.

This woman really thought she could roll up to Tongrak's house and start saying whatever she wanted. She really thought she could fuck around and not find out. Tongrak and his face said no and also GET A JOB. FIND SOMETHING TO DO.

Unrelated sidenote, I loathe the little tone she uses to talk to him. I hope we never see her again.

The face of a man who has found the adequate weapon in his arsenal. Also, someone actually agreed to be in a relationship with her? I'll send the poor S.O.B. a condolence card in the morning.

Peat really decided to hurt my feelings today because I know that look too. That's the expression of someone who's a hairsbreadth away from a breakdown after using up every ounce of bravery they possess. I'm surprised he didn't start crying on the stairs on the way to his bedroom.

There's so much I want to say about this scene in Tongrak's bedroom but I'll give it its own post.

All I'll say here is that it really is the littlest things, the smallest acts of kindness that end up pushing you even further over the edge. Why isn't it possible to hug someone through a screen?

Mut called Prin a diabolical brat and that's her name in Tongrak's phone and that's why they're soulmates. It's science.

THOSE ARE HEART EYES, KHUN TONGRAK. Mut is siding with you against your shitty family! THAT'S BEST BOY BEHAVIOR AND YOU KNOW IT.

Mut's just like me fr.

#rakmut #vimook #love sea #love sea the series #meta

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owlight · 2 years ago

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Can i request for luffy sabo and shanks when their s/o (fem) randomly bites their tiddie? Ty ❤️

Thank you for requesting 🫰🫶🥺 I love this request

Warnings: biting man tities

Luffy ,Sabo ,shanks reacting to Thier Fem!s/o biting Thier chest

Luffy

You were sitting on his lap,your head is resting on his chest and he is for once sitting peacefully eating some grapes as the ship sail

He is enjoying your comfortable body against his ,it's these wholesome moments that you cherish the most ,you can't help but admire his bored chest ,it's so...nice and so....biteable ,you thought about it for a while really ,biting his chest ,not in a sexual way really ,you just Wanted to try it for once ,What Could go wrong? He is strong ,he can handle one bite..." Can I have a bite Luffy?" You ask and Luffy hum as he eat a grape " sure sunshine! Here you go-"

CHOMP

" (Y/N)! OW WHAT IS THIS FOR?" Luffy yells out as he tries to moves you off his chest but You're still biting down like a fish ,robin giggle at Luffy poor attempts to get you off him while sanji crying in the corner of how ungrateful Luffy is,he have a fine woman biting him and this is his reaction!!!!?????

You let go after leaving a good love bite on his chest ,you grin at him with a toothy smile " no reason ,I just wanted to try it, give it a taste" you joke as you hear some of the crew laughing,Luffy isn't laughing unfortunately " is that so? Let me try yours then!" He state before jumping at you ,You scream in horror as you run away from him ,Sanji is trying to stop Luffy cuz this ain't something you do to a lady! " At least take her out for dinner first! "

He is The worst person to do this to, because He will bite you back ,Like you thought you could do this and live on? No ,he will bite you back with a worst chomp

He will teach you a lesson on Not biting him by biting you back ,It end up with both of you covered in bandages with chopper scolding you both for this reckless behaviors

Next time you bite him randomly he will not flinch ,will only bite you back,He doesn't care that you got sensitive tities ,he will bite back ,You had it Coming

He is immune to your bites now and so are you ,This is a relationship flex in a way (?)

Sabo

You were both laying in bed as you both rested from a long day of work,both of you are naked after a short love making session,Sabo hugged you to his chest as he spoke about some found memory he had as he tries to keep you both awake till you gain energy for the next round,the energy in the room were highly comforting Truly

Too bad that the only thing on your mind was the urge to bite sabo chest like it's your long life cure , perhaps you shouldn't do it now ,but again,is there a better time than now? Will you have this chance again? Probably yes but You live in the moment!

"we used to collect beetles and make them fight each othe-OW!-What-What are you doing?" He asks as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow ,his cheeks slightly flushed "biting Into my favorite snack"you tell as you bite down again causing him to moan ,that itself make you pause your biting " well this is interesting...." You mumble as sabo hand come to grab your hair " don't,We are not unlocking this today" he tells you slightly embarrassed,you hum " No no I think we need to ,Let me bite you somewhere else-" you tell him teasingly as sabo sighs deeply "you're going to be the death of me" he mumble as he pulls you into a kiss , that's a bit too heated than how he usually kiss....

You unlocked his biting kink ,a great new addition to your list of things that sabo is into

He Is really into it ,Just don't bite him outside the bedroom cuz he doesn't know how he would react if you bit him Infront of others (it will be an unhinged reaction for sure)

Will start calling you a wild kitty as a little inside joke between the two of you

He is kinky and he know it , Let's hope you don't figure out his bondage kink any time soon

Shanks

He had it coming ,He really only had himself to blame,you were tired from all the biting and hickeys he leaves on your chest all the time ,he is merciless with his biting,you can't wear anything that show your cleavage because It's all marked up and everyone on the ship tease you about it if they caught a glance of it

So like any good girlfriend,you decided to charm shanks into letting his guard down so you go on with your plan

" want more sake my love?" You asks him sweetly as you pour him another Anyway " you already I can't refuse a drink from a pretty women" shanks mumble against his drink as he drinks it,you smile as you see him relax , getting comfortable even,you decide to move to sit on his lap and he of course let you so easily ,Why would he suspect anything when you're drinking with the crew after dinner?

" trying to get comfortable my love huh?" He asks with a smirk as you nod,your hand running down his chest " trying to get more than comfortable captain" you whisper in his ear , ignoring the fact the Whole crew can see you both like this ,they at this point used of it " is that so dear?" He asks with a husky tone " oh yeah " shanks free his hand to let it run down your hair" you know you can get anything from me my dear,no need to get all touchy ,just ask nicely" he mumble to you " can I ?" You ask as you look up at him ,puppy eyes and pouty lips ,he didn't stand a chance "go ahead darling-OW WHAT THE FUCK?" shanks Yelp as he feel your teeth sink right on his chest ,He is looking at your with a heated look and everyone is looking at you With a questioning look ,You only get up and walk away "consider it payback old man" You let your tongue out as you Walk a bit faster ,shanks stares at you as he register what just happened

"You're NOT getting away with this (y/n)" you hear someone says as you hear a shift in the room, you run out the dining room a bit faster as you hear some heavy footsteps behind you

it was nice while it lasted

You tities didn't survive that night ,he showed you what this 'old man' is capable of when you misbehave

He Is only allowed to bite you up like that ,you doing it so randomly was a wrong choice cuz it only turned him on and gave him a reason to jump at you

he will start calling you A bitebug all the time ,will never let you live this down

YOU only did it once ,LIKE he is the only biting your chest 24/7 but God forbidden you do it once 😔 smh men

#one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece #one piece fanfiction #luffy d monkey #luffy x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks x reader #revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader #Reader insert #owl write

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i-heart-hxh · 11 months ago

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is Killua truly jealous of Palm?

Yes, I absolutely think he is!

It's never explicitly stated, but the subtext is so in your face in a few different ways that it's essentially not even subtext any more.

Togashi could have chosen so many different ways to portray the way Killua feels about the Gon/Palm date subplot, but making it clear over and over again how bothered Killua is by the whole situation absolutely reads as jealousy, especially within the larger context of the arc. Look at these especially!

Togashi puts so much emphasis on Killua's expressions and distress throughout the whole subplot. Of course it's partly intended to be comedic, but this situation with Gon and Palm does have serious emotional weight for Killua as well--pulling out the needle, his breakdown in front of Palm, what she ends up saying to him after that, etc. I do think the exaggerated and extreme ways Togashi expresses Killua's feelings are intended to make the audience go, "Oh, he's really jealous, isn't he?"

People can argue Killua's reactions are just because of who Gon is on a date with (someone unhinged/violent and much older than him), or that it's just "concern" about Gon because of his nen situation, and those are both definitely aspects of what's going on here--but to reduce it down to only that ignores those deeper emotional impacts it has on Killua. I think the protectiveness aspect is something Killua uses to veil some of the other things he's feeling about it even though of course he is legitimately protective of Gon in this situation (and he has good reasons to be so). I also think Togashi himself uses the ambiguity to his advantage here, because if he put in romantic jealousy that was any clearer, would Jump allow it?

The way Killua goes immediately from the topic of going on dates/being freaked out about the prospect of Gon having been on dates before to feeling heartbroken because he wants to be with Gon forever the next panel is telling, in my opinion... (The English translation is a little vague, seems like it was intentionally toned down. In the original Japanese version he says he wanted to be with Gon forever.)

Here's a post where @tjlnn22 and I discuss this weightlifting scene in more detail.

I firmly believe that a big part of Palm's role as a character is to get the audience to question the nature of Killua's feelings for Gon. Without considering this context, the way her character is set up from the beginning and what role she's intended to play in Chimera Ant Arc is confusing. But when if you look at her character as having been built for that role, suddenly her entire character and subplot makes sense. Here's an older post where OP talks about some of the framing of Palm's character, and then I talk in more depth about why Palm is written the way she is.

It especially makes sense when you consider that the date with Palm is one of the factors that destabilizes Killua's faith in his relationship with Gon, leading to him wondering if they're acting together as friends or just as teammates. Here's an awesome post @tjlnn22 put together and submitted to me on this topic, with specific details supporting this argument. I think this is an important part of the arc that gets overlooked, and I love how clearly it's laid out in the linked post.

Killua also acts dismissive of Gon worrying about Palm to the point where other characters comment on his behavior, which to me seems like another sign of jealousy and bitterness on Killua's part. Then when he encounters Palm again after her transformation, this is how he behaves towards her:

Hands on his hips, full sass mode here. Again with the jealousy...

...And then shortly after this he proceeds to have a total emotional breakdown when he admits to himself that he thinks maybe Gon cares more about Palm than him, and that Palm might be the only one who can help Gon, rather than Killua. Of course there are more factors than this behind his breakdown, including him getting pushed away by Gon prior, but this is DIRECTLY the thought that leads him to start crying and then sobbing on the ground.

The Palm subplot is one of the biggest things in the series that makes me confident that the romantic subtext around Killua's feelings is completely and utterly intentional. The way the whole subplot is constructed, the decisions Togashi makes around Palm and how she's presented as a character, the way Killua's reactions and emotions are emphasized with regards to it, and the significance of this subplot in the greater arc of Killua's character all show a great deal of thought and care, and it's hard to come to any other conclusion when looking at it carefully.

Thank you for asking!

#hxh #hunter x hunter #gon #killua #palm #killugon #gonkillu #asks #psy-onic #my posts #meta #long post #palm subplot

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2-dsimp · 11 months ago

Note

can u write something for yandere armin? like what if his darling actually liked him back but then ppl are gossiping about him visiting Annie and still having feelings for her? this hurts darling bc she never forgave Anine and maybe her sibling is dead bc of the female titan so she just kinda stops talking to armin???

@laughing-with-god these were catching cobwebs in my drafts but it’s finally here (^◇^;)

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Cw: Unhinged Armin! Fem! Reader, suicidal mentions, manipulative tendencies, yandere tendencies, obsessive behavior, mutual pinning

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Is she ignoring me?

Armin questioned.

Watching you longingly from afar underneath the bangs of his long blonde hair, he began to overthink about what went wrong between the two of you. The rumors that kept circulating his mind about how you also had feelings for him. Was driving him insane with all the conflicting emotions in his weak heart.

Doesn’t she feel the same way? But if that’s true then why…?

If the rumors are true then why’re you avoiding him? The day before the both of you were in the library leisurely reading books sitting next to each other as if you were connected by the red strings of faith. The atmosphere was so blissful a lovely distraction from the chaos in a world that seems so hopeless.

But now he’s witnessing you ignoring his existence entirely almost as if he didn’t exist in your heart to being in with. And that made him anxious with insecurities running rampant until it turned into twisted delusions.

Has she found another?

No, that can’t be! What do I do? I can’t let her go. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her—

“Hey did yall hear about what’s happening between Armin and Annie?”

A distant voice snapped him out of his obsessive train of thoughts, and he automatically tuned into the conversation of gossip stemming from a group of scouts.

“Duh everyone knows that those two will hook up eventually, but my heart goes out to that girl who had a crush on him.”

Another voice chimed in with a slight huff of pity going out to you.

“Yeah, hasn’t Armin always had the hots for that Titan girl? I heard that he went to see her last night at the stables”

Armin went rigid at the mere mention that he would choose that abomination you utterly despised over you. Calming himself he couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh of relief realizing that it was not as bad as he originally thought. Although, he did have an encounter with her, trust me when I say that it was far from that of a friendly front.

Now that he had a clear vision of the situation, he knew exactly what he needed to do to mend the bridge between him and his darling.

Him being all nice to Annie was just a facade to get her guard to the lowest crumbling point. The woman was already running on a half life carrying the guilt of her past warrior self. He pretended to be empathetic towards her, feeding the flames of her innermost desire to end it all by stating that she had suffered long enough by the hands of fate. And that as a former ally he’d assist in making sure she had a nice send off straight to hell.

And eventhough He knew it was wrong of him to enjoy the simpering thought of how jealous you were at the mere inkling idea that he was interested in Annie. He couldn’t help the excitement drumming along in his heart at how that was a sign of your apparent love towards him. A telltale sign of how you wanted him.

He nearly got weak in the knees at the vision of you and him getting together as a loving couple. Especially since he knew that his goal was within reach, all he had to do was set the plan in motion. In few days time you’ll soon see how much he truly loves you, and how much he’d be willing to be your faithful companion.

And what better way to show it, by giving you the chance to get revenge on the traitor you loathed with all your being.

With that in mind Armin quickly headed towards your quarters, his steps becoming upbeat with a small hopeful smile on his face while he daydreamed about you rewarding his efforts with a kiss.

#yandere armin #yandere aot #yandere aot imagines #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot scenarios #armin x reader #armin aot #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin x you #snk armin #snk x reader #aot imagines #aot scenarios #aot drabble #armin imagine #armin drabble

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ikolaiigh · 4 months ago

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I need Bok-su meeting reader at Da-jeong’s wedding who is also there for revenge because of something Da-jeong did to them in the past 🙏

The U & I in Revenge

𝑻𝑾/𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺..Mentioned violence, Reader is a bit unhinged in this one, violent thoughts, Bok-su being her own warning lmao.

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: Bok-su x Fem!Reader

𝘈/𝘕: Hey guys, guess who's back from the dead! Life's been rough with me, but nonetheless, I am back. I've been caught up on the Married in Red, and the request just fueled up my hyperfix. I am also going to make a pt 2 for this !! So I hope you all enjoy :)

-Listen to The U & I in Suicide by the handsome devil for better experience.

The pre-wedding meandering is as boring and dreadful as you thought it would be.

Swirling your glass of champagne, you lean against the far wall of the room, a smile carefully plastered on your face. The lively chatter and laughter of the crowd around you fade into the background. You take a slow sip, savoring the bubbles that tickle your tongue, pretending to enjoy the celebration.

In truth, you couldn't care less about mingling with the crowd or being seen by it. You’re here because it's your sister’s pre-wedding party, and you need to keep up the facade of being happy for her. After all, everyone expects you to be thrilled about the upcoming nuptials.

Oh the things you did for your sister.

Speaking of the devil... Truly, the only exciting thing about all of this so far has been seeing her dear friend who dropped out of university. The sheer horror on Da-jeong’s face as she greeted her.

You see your sister, radiant as ever, chatting animatedly with the guests. Her laughter rings out, clear and bright, drawing everyone's attention. She looks genuinely happy, the center of everyone's admiration and affection.

You grip your glass of champagne a bit tighter, feeling the cool stem press into your palm. A frown tugs at the corners of your mouth as you watch her bask in the spotlight. The warmth of the room feels stifling, contrasting sharply with the envy settling in your chest. You take another sip of champagne, your smile faltering just slightly as you struggle to maintain your composure.

You start to wonder when everything went wrong in your life. You dedicated yourself to your studies, always striving for excellence, while Da-jeong was carefree, attending parties and messing around. Despite her seemingly reckless behavior, she always managed to captivate everyone’s attention.

From childhood, your sister had been the center of attention, effortlessly drawing admiration from family and friends. You worked hard, hoping to gain the same recognition from your parents, but it always felt like you were in her shadow. The spotlight was hers, no matter how much you accomplished.

A bitter thought creeps in: you wish it were you gaining the spotlight, not your sister. Your grip on the glass tightens to the point of discomfort, and you can't help but glare at Da-jeong as she basks in her moment of glory.

You imagine her wedding dress stained red by your hands. How selfish she is. After all the opportunities you gave her. No gratitude, no acknowledgment. Just her, always in the spotlight. You wish they could see her for who she truly is. The envy burns hotter. The champagne glass feels like it might shatter.

You, always in the background. Her, always the favorite. Your hard work overlooked. Her careless charm adored. It's not fair. It’s never been fair.

It's her fault. Not yours. Not yo-

"You don't seem very happy."

The grip on the champagne glass in your hand lessens as you're suddenly startled by a voice. You quickly turn to face the person, forcing a smile onto your lips.

"Whatever do you mean, darling? I'm perfectly fine," you say, giggling lightly. You hope the sound of your laughter is convincing enough to make them forget the tension they just witnessed, wishing they would move on and leave you to your thoughts.

"In my eyes, you were glaring at the bride, angrily might I add," the person says with a slight grin, sipping their own champagne while looking at you. You grit your teeth in slight annoyance, biting the tip of your tongue to refrain from snapping.

"Really? That's quite the imagination you have," you reply with a forced chuckle, trying to keep your tone light, taking another sip of your champagne, hoping to divert their attention. "I must have been lost in thought. You know how these family events can be."

The person presses further, their grin widening. "Lost in thought, you say? Looked more like jealousy to me."

"Mind your own business!" You retort sharply. A few people nearby glance your way, their conversations pausing. Realizing your outburst has drawn attention, you quickly put on a sweet facade and apologize to the onlookers.

"Sorry about that, everyone. Just a bit of a misunderstanding," you say with a charming smile.

As the crowd’s attention shifts back to their own conversations, you turn back to the person, scowling. You take in her appearance: black shoulder-length hair tied into a messy ponytail, a black vinyl trench coat with a white undershirt, a red belt cinched around her waist, and red gloves on her hands. Recognition dawns on you—she's your sister's ex-friend from university.

“What do you want?” You ask, your voice low, as you place the empty glass of champagne on the waitress’s tray, offering a polite thank you. You turn back to the woman, your gaze steady.

“I was just curious about why you were looking at the bride like that,” she says, her tone almost playful. She takes a leisurely sip of her own champagne, still smiling, then sets her glass down, and extends her hand toward you. “I’m Bok-su, by the way. We haven’t fully met yet."

"Not in person, no. I'm Choi [Name]. My sister spoke a lot about you when she was at uni," you say with a polite smile, extending your gloved hand to her.

Bok-su takes your hand, her touch unexpectedly warm, and she brings it to her lips, pressing a light kiss on the back of it. Her eyes hold a knowing glint as she releases your hand.

"Interesting," she murmurs, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I didn’t realize I’d left such an impression. I've heard quite a bit about you too. Always the diligent one, weren't you?"

“Yes, well, someone had to be,” you reply lightly, feeling a bit flushed from the unexpected kiss. You quickly withdraw your hand and reach for the glass of champagne. “So, what brings you here tonight, Bok-su? And judging by your attire, you seem to be dressed for a funeral.”

"Your sister said the same thing. I sure was dressed for the right occasion," Bok-su chuckles softly, placing a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, her eyes never leaving yours. She glances momentarily at the groom, ensuring he remains in her peripheral vision.

You choke on the champagne you were drinking and caught off guard by her comment. You let out a small cough as the liquid goes down the wrong pipe, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and something else you can't quite place.

"I wasn't expecting that." You say, trying to regain your composure, your voice steadier now. you manage, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin. "So, you're here to stir things up?"

"Maybe." She says, her tone light but her eyes serious, Bok-su tilts her head slightly, studying you with an intensity that would send a shiver down anyone's spine.

You hum thoughtfully in response, swirling your second glass of champagne as you scan the crowd, searching for your sister. The conversation settles into a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the party filling the background.

"You didn't do it," you say, breaking the silence as you continue to gaze at the crowd, your glass still in hand. You can feel Bok-su bristle beside you.

"What?" Bok-su asks, shooting you a disgruntled look. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, her expression unreadable.

"You didn't kill the patient that day," you continue, a sneer creeping onto your face as you finally turn to face her fully. You can see the bafflement in her eyes, though she tries to mask it. "And you're here to take revenge on my sister."

"You've done your homework," she murmurs, her tone both admiring and wary. Bok-su's baffled expression only lasts a moment before she regains her composure, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"It didn't make sense for you to leave university like that," you reply, your tone dripping with a mix of charm and cunning. taking a leisurely sip of your champagne, letting the moment stretch out. "And besides it seems that i will let your plan happen."

"Touché," she replies, her eyes flickering with a mixture of mania and excitement. "It appears that i might have a role for you to play in."

"And who says that i want to join in?" You reply sharply, a frown tugs at the corners of your mouth as you look at her.

"I saw the hatred in your eyes as you looked at your sister," she says calmly, leaning in slightly, her breath grazing in your ear. "Don't you crave a taste of that spotlight, even just a glimmer of fame in your life?"

Her words hit a nerve, and you stiffen, your jaw tightening. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

“i know i didn't lie." she says softly, her voice almost a purr. Bok-su’s smile remains, though it’s tinged with a hint of satisfaction. "I just have a feeling you’re tired of cleaning up her messes.”

Her words linger in the air, and despite your attempt to remain composed, you can feel a flicker of doubt within you. The idea of craving recognition, of wanting just a taste of the spotlight, unsettles you more than you care to admit.

“I…” You start, but your voice trails off as you struggle to find the right words.

“Think about it.” she continues, her voice low and persuasive. “You have the intelligence and the charm. Why waste it playing being the second choice?”

You let out a low growl, processing her words, the struggle evident on your face as you wrestle with your emotions. Finally, you let out a reluctant sigh, your resolve hardening. “Alright, you’ve made your point.”

Bok-su’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, but she remains silent, waiting for you to continue.

“You’re right,” you admit, the words tasting bitter but liberating. “I am tired of cleaning up her messes. I want more than just standing in the background while she takes all the credit.”

Bok-su nods, her expression serious. “Then we have a common goal. We can help each other achieve what we want.”

“And what exactly do you propose?” You tilt your head slightly, studying her.

Bok-su steps closer, invading your personal space. Her proximity makes your pulse quicken, and you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You let it out slowly, feeling the warmth of her breath against your throat. Bok-su leans in, her lips almost brushing your ear as she whispers.

“We’re going to make Da-jeong atone.”

#married in red #studio investigrave #-Kolyafics #married in red bok su #racheldrawsthis #married in red game #da jeong choi #Bok-su #Bok-su x Reader #Married in Red x reader

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