#no thoughts head empty just personal revenge

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

mongwoo playing baduk against the qing ambassador is . very symbolic. THEYRE GONNA TEAM UP IM CALLING IT. (she and the king.) they compliment each other incredibly well, were one has a weakness the other is strong. mongwoo is frankly shit at schemes when real people are involved, and the king is too laden by real-people events and a certain kind of viewpoint when playing baduk. he cant entirely free himself from the strategist he needs to be as the king of a court of vipers, making him worse at baduk than mongwoo. meanwhile mongwoo has the mental flexibility and freedom to see things from unsuspecting angles; she seems to have ingraved the baduk rules in her heart and is now applying them expertly. but a baduk board is different from a real country with real people; her stakes when playing were never big enough to carry that burden. but should they team up they could compliment each other‘s strengths and weaknesses and they could take advantage of mongwoo‘s unique position as a woman crossdressing as the king‘s favourite official. she can go to places the king cant. she has access to the common people, his countrypeople, in a way he hasnt and never will. if they apply their combined smarts, cunning, and good heartedness to handle the precarious situation with the qing things would start to take a turn

[lqvesoph]

She‘s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4

gif by @formulaonedirection

lando norris x webber!reader

summary: After releasing your new album you go to the Bahrain Grand Prix to finally see your two favorite Aussie’s. What you didn’t expect is to meet a certain Brit as well.

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

masterlist | taglist

Part 1

yn.adams: Thank you for all the love on GUTS!!! Tour is coming I promissssse but now off to Bahrain🏁

comments:

gracieabrams: YOURE UNREAL

rachelzegler: all american t*ts frr

danielricciardo: Okay who am I fighting today🥊

oscarpiastri: See u in Bahrain (finally)

> yn.adams: FINALLY!!!

> oscarpiastri: You‘ve become busy since becoming a world star🥲

fan: SHES COMING TO BAHRAIN!!!

> fan: FINALLY!! Its been ages

fan: Has she ever been to a race??

> fan: Well… I mean obviously LMAO😭

fan: U supporting Red Bull or Mclaren this weekend?

> yn.adams: Rbr obviously!! Not even Oscar can get me into that orange Garage🤨

> oscarpiastri: It’s PAPAYA!!!

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*~*~*~*~*~*

"GOOD MORNING!!!", an australian accent yelled into your ear just moments after you entered the Bahrain paddock.

You flinched, immediately slapping the person’s arm. "Daniel!!!", you called and pushed the driver away from you as he tried to pull you into a hug.

"I‘ve missed you so much", he mumbled, pressing you close to him and ruffling your hair after, which made you slap his hand away from your head.

"You seen Osc yet?“, you asked, looking around you, spotting a few photographers whose camera’s where direct to you. Daniel shook his head. "Nope, I thought you‘d come together. I‘m surprised you’re only here now."

You rolled your eyes and kept walking with Daniel. "I was on a video call with my team, discussing the upcoming tour. We gotta work out a schedule and call the venues and stuff", you replied. "We‘ve been on there even before the album came out and I still haven’t completely made up my mind."

"Indecisive little shit", Daniel laughed, making you slap his arm with a chuckle. You made your way to the Red Bull hospitality, Daniel waving at a few people from Mclaren that he was still friends with even after he left the team at the end of the 2022 season.

"I think Kelly and P are in there", he told you before hugging you goodbye. "If you see Oscar, tell him I‘m looking for him", you said, smiling and ruffling through Daniel‘s hair as some sorta revenge, before quickly stepping back and running up the stairs to the entrance.

Daniel laughed and pointed a finger at you. "I‘m gonna get you back!" You giggled and waved as you walked backwards into the hospitality.

Looking around the room you quickly spotted Kelly with her daughter Penelope sitting on a creme coloured couch.

"Heyy, honey", she greeted you and got up to hug you. "Hey, darling", you then said and lifted Penelope up who was reaching her arms out to you.

Just when you sat down, your phone chimed with a new message.

Osc🧡: Meet me in front of Mclaren

You: I‘m not going in tho

Osc🧡: Well I can’t really walk into Red Bull can I?

You: 🙄okay

"I‘ll be back soon, Oscar just texted", you let Kelly know and high fived P who giggled as you did. Jeez, how much you missed that little sunshine!

You glanced around the front porch of Mclaren‘s hospitality but didn’t spot Oscar. And as you didn’t just want to walk into the building you stayed where you were, next to the steps leading up to the entrance.

"You walked in with Danny, right?", someone spoke behind you, making you turn around. The confused expression on your face quickly leaving when you came face to face with the other Mclaren driver.

He sat at one of the tables with another curly haired guy and a blonde girl.

You nodded. "Yeah", you simply said. "You wanna come up here?", he asked, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

You‘ve never spoken to Lando Norris, all you knew about him was through stories from either Oscar or Daniel. You knew that he spent some of his winterbreak with Danny and Martin in Australia. Daniel had asked you to come along as well but you were busy with the release of your new album so you had to decline.

You looked around you one last time, trying to find Oscar but failed, so you nodded and took the few stairs up to the table the three of them were sitting at.

As you stood directly in front of them, you saw how the blonde girl recognized you. You‘ve always been good at reading people but over the last years you‘ve become incredibly good at telling whether people recognized you when facing them. Even if they try their hardest to hide it, that small second when their eyes widen in realization was enough for you to tell.

"I‘m Lando", he introduced himself, holding a hand out to greet you. "Y/n, nice to meet you", you smiled, trying to ignore the urge to tell him 'I know, I‘m friends with Daniel and Oscar'. "Max and Pietra, friends of me", he then gestured over to the people sitting across from you.

"So, how do you know Daniel?", Lando asked, crossing his arms on the table. "I‘ve known him since I was 8 years old, I think", you smiled, remembering tiny 8 year old you giggling and blushing when first talking to Daniel at the British Grand Prix. "Really?", his eyes widened. "How did you meet?" "Uh, through my dad, he‘s from Australia as well", you answered, leaving out most of the details.

"You‘re australian?", Lando questioned with raised eyesbrows. "No no, my dad is. My mom‘s from America and I kinda grew up between California and Canberra", you explained.

"However, for some reason she likes to ignore her australian origin", a voice said behind you, making you smirk as you recognized the familiar Melbourne accent.

You turned around in your chair and stood up before wrapping your arms around Oscar. "Hey, princess", he laughed. "How‘ve you been?"

"Bit stressful with Tour at the minute but it feels so good to be back here!", you grinned.

As you turned back to the other three, you couldn’t help but notice Lando‘s confused face. Maybe it was the fact you basically jumped Oscar or that he‘d called you 'princess', something he‘s been doing ever since your first Tour when you got gifted a little crown from your fans because it matched the dress you were wearing on stage.

"I se you‘ve made friends already, might wanna stay here for the race?", Oscar asked with a smirk. You slapped the back of his head in an affectionate way. "Nuh uh, nice try, Piastri", you chuckled. "I‘ll be watching from Red Bull, you know that."

The confused expression on Lando‘s face only seemed to deepen with everything you said so you gave him a quick explanation. "My father used to work at Red Bull, so it‘s the team I‘ve grown up with and I‘m not leaving that."

Oscar snorted at you little white lie but you rammed your elbow into his side to get him to keep quiet.

Lando nodded, still slightly confused by the way you and Oscar acted with each other but before he could question it, a team member walked out of the door and told the two drivers to start getting ready for the race.

"I‘ll see you later, okay? You‘re driving back with Daniel?", your best friend asked. "I haven’t talked to him about it but-" "Okay, then I‘m taking you back to the hotel", he interrupted you with a grin.

"Jeez, splitting my time with you two like you‘re my parents", you laughed but agreed and hugged the driver goodbye.

"Bye, bye!", you waved to Lando, Max and Pietra before walking back over to Red Bull.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After the race and all the podium celebrations, you waited in front of the Mclaren hospitality for Oscar, scrolling mindlessly on your Twitter while ignoring the 22 unread messages from your management.

"Hey, Y/n", a voice said behind you, making you look up from your phone. "Lando, hi. Congrats on your race", you smiled. "Thanks, could’ve been better but we‘ll try again next week", he shrugged.

"Jeddah, right?", you asked, not having memorized the calendar quite yet. The driver nodded and played around with the orange lanyard in his hands.

"You coming?", he dared to ask after a few seconds and from the way his fingers fiddled with the orange band faster, you could tell how nervous he was. You shrugged. "I don’t know yet, I’m quite busy with work at the minute, so probably no. But I‘ll definitely be in Melbourne", you replied, trying to lighten the mood by adding the last sentence.

"Pietra told me you’re a singer", he revealed, making you smile at the memory of the blonde girl. "I could tell she recognized me", you admitted. Lando chuckled. "She said she tried her hardest to not let it show but was freaking out on the inside! She‘s actually quite mad at herself for not asking you for a picture!"

You giggled again and shook your head. "She could’ve asked, I wouldn’t have minded", you said with a small smile. "If she’s at a Grand Prix just let me know and I promise I‘ll find her." "I‘ll let her know", he nodded and looked to the ground with the cutest smile you have seen in a while.

The combination of the brunette curly hair, the british accent, the smile and his dimples, drove you crazy and made you heart skip a few beats. But you tried your best to keep it together.

Little did you know that Lando quite literally felt the same about you. Your long hair, along with the color of your eyes and especially your smile made his heart beat a little faster as well.

You stayed in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other admiringly before a voice interrupted your starring.

"Princess!! Sorry for being late!", Oscar called while walking out of the hospitality with Lily‘s hand in his. You smiled at the sight of your best friend’s girlfriend and send her a little wave which she returned with the hand that wasn’t wrapped in Oscar‘s.

"That‘s okay, I had Lando to keep me company", you chuckled, making the brit smile a little. "You ready?", Oscar asked and you nodded.

He said goodbye to Lando and started walking down the stairs.

"I’ll see you in Australia?", Lando asked one last time. You nodded your head with a smile. "Oh for sure, I wouldn’t miss this race for the world!", you chuckled. "Great!", Lando whispered under his breath and gave you a little wave which you returned before following Oscar and Lily.

"What do you think of him?", Oscar asked as soon as Lando was out of hearing range. "Lando? He’s pretty cute", you simply stated, not daring to mention the other words floating around your head. Nice, pretty, gorgeous, hot and handsome were just a few examples.

"Why do you ask?"

Oscar smirked. "No reason, really!"

tagged: redbullracing, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri

yn.adams: bahrain dump (feat. my two favorite aussies)

comments:

oscarpiastri: You‘re an aussie as well…

> yn.adams: But I‘m not tho…🤷‍♀️

> oscarpiastri: Y/n🤨

danielricciardo: I‘m shown before Oscar

> yn.adams: rolling my eyes as we speak

> fan: LMAOOO

fan: Am I seeing you in the Mclaren garage?

> yn.adams: JUST FOR A SECOND!!!

fan: The race weekend is better when ur there

liked by yn.adams

fan: How does she know Oscar and Daniel??

> fan: Through her dad obviously

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landonorris started following you

Part 2

taglist

Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x

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[kaznejis]

Make it Fun, don't trust anyone- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he visibly failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.”  His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”

A/N: Hello! If anyone sees this, I hope you enjoy! If not, this is entirely self sufficing and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Just to note, sorry if the scenes taken from the movie seem a little..rushed? If there's one thing I do not enjoy it's working out how to incorporate existing scenes into canon compliant fanfiction. The struggle.

Word Count: 6,692 / Read it on AO3!

If you'd like to see more from me about Erik- please feel free to send in any requests! :)

The Cuban sunlight had acted as the perfect antithesis to your situation; the gaping hole that had formed and taken a residual spot within your ribcage as you knelt beside Charles, screaming and crying at the lack of feeling in his legs. 

But your eyes had not been upon him. 

You had stared up at Erik, stomach collapsing at his stoic gaze; only remnants of his grief were prevalent to yourself, the person that had known him most in the world. That wretched helmet had sat upon his head, his eyes empty with the melancholy of his own steadfast determination. 

“Join me.” He had whispered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes finally landed upon you; the first time since you had boarded the plane to Cuba. He had reached out then, his palm splayed towards you; hope swimming in his eyes as he beckoned you forward. 

You had simply shaken your head, lips tight and breaths heaving as you held his gaze. You watched as his heart broke, as his eyes glistened and bloodied hands trembled. You watched as he nodded and as he turned away from you. Turned away from the love that you had shared, choosing his own foolish endeavours of revenge over you. Allowing grief to swallow you, you had ducked your head; unable to watch as he walked away, unable to face Charles, writhing in the pain of your lovers’ actions. 

That had been it- you had returned to the school. Welcoming and accepting prospective students; working as an administrator and overseeing the school’s board. It had been good, amazing- supplying a necessary distraction to the heartbreak you had endured and a chance to improve your powers, learn from the experiences of others. There, in your reluctant state of happiness, you had met Adam. 

Adam, the school’s mutant psychology teacher; specialising in mind-based and largely telekinetic powers. Your curiosity regarding Erik’s powers had led you to him, sitting beside his desk; asking question after question. Questions soon turned into conversations and you soon found yourself being courted. All the traditional romances that had never crossed your mind when with Erik had become your reality; constant flowers, gifts, candle-lit dinners as your heels caressed his leg beneath the table. 

Your family had loved him, adored him. They had never met Erik, for obvious reasons, and whilst they were more supportive of your mutant gene than the average family; they had hoped that you would still be able to live the average life. Meaning, that you would acquire the average husband. Your family had practically demanded that you married him despite only being a year into the relationship, the pointed remarks about you being ‘unwedded at such an age’ a constant force at each gathering. 

So, you had. You had adorned the white dress, the large diamond ring, and Charles had granted his blessings by allowing you to host the wedding on the school’s grounds. Everyone and anyone that could have possibly been there had been in attendance, a day simply to forget about the wrongdoings of the past, the present and the future. 

On paper, everything was perfect. 

“Do you ever think about him?” Charles had asked, the night before your wedding, the two of you nursing a glass of scotch each within his office. 

You had exhaled through your nose, a lodge forming at the base of your throat, “No.” Despite the pronunciation of such a small, singular word; your voice had croaked, your chest trembling pathetically. 

Charles had simply nodded, his eyes flickering; his powers catching your obvious lie. “He’s in prison now, you know?” 

You nodded, humming affirmatively, your gut twisting at the reminder. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow?” 

“I do.” You smirked, a failed attempt at humour as Charles had only looked back at you with sympathy, “I can’t sit here and say that Erik is never on my mind but… this is for the best.” 

Charles had only nodded, his face twisting as hair fell before his eyes, “He will never bother us again, I will make sure of that.” 

Whilst you had thanked him, smile wide and eyes crinkling as you both raised a glass; you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach had swooped in disappointment. The way your chest had heaved with unbridled pain, simply at the thought of never seeing Erik again. You would wrestle with it for the years to come- the guilt of constantly thinking of another man as you lay beside your husband. 

Your love with Erik had, to simply put it, been enigmatic; fuelled by passion- both by the mission at hand and the way you felt for each other. There had been awful, screaming fights on the worst days and entangled limbs with scratches lining his spine on the best. You had loved him with every ounce of your being, cared for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t there. Whilst you had endured the worst pains of your life with him, you had also been at your happiest. 

It had been toxic, ferocious, you had never known what would come next. 

You missed it every day. 

You passed the feeling off as pure delusion, your mutant gene playing cruel tricks on your mind as the years passed; as you grew bored. Bored of the same mundane life every day, bored of the simple forehead kisses, bored of that house. You and Adam remained within the dark confines of the manor instead of finding a place of your own following the fallout of the war in Vietnam; acting as support for Charles, who had steadfastly begun to dwindle in both his morality and his health. You had used this as an excuse every time Adam had attempted to introduce the necessary conversation of moving on, settling down. Children. You had deflected his attempts every time, claiming that you needed to be there for Charles, that you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time. 

You knew for a fact that the reality lay within your inability to let Erik go, your inability to potentially miss the opportunity to catch a taste of his mere presence again. As the breadth of time since he left and the distance with Adam widened, you thought of Erik more and more. His serrating blue eyes and wicked charm haunted every moment, both awake and unconscious. You yearned for him, worried for him, hated him. You hated him for giving you up so easily, your lack of support in that specific moment signifying the end of everything, defining the status of the rest of your life. Sometimes, during the darkest of nights, the ones where you felt so alone, the nights where the wind howled and the trees drew vines and branches upon the walls- you imagined what it would have been like to join him, to have clasped his hand against yours and allowed him to lead you into the darkness.

Secretly, you knew that following Magneto would have led to your early demise, sometimes you pondered on whether that could have been a better end to your time together than your reality. 

But then, as Spring turned into Summer; as the grounds of the manour flourished in their unkempt state and the sun cast illuminations through the large windows- Logan arrived at your doorstep. A mission from the future, unbelievable if not for the pure conviction in his eyes. Unbelievable if not for the grief that haunted his strong features. 

You had been completely unprepared when Logan had stood from the chair you had offered him, yourself having been perched on the edge of Charles’ crumpled couch; your legs crossed and hands clasped with worry as he had detailed the horrors he had experienced, the horrors that he was there to prevent. He had paced the length of the table, surveying each resident of the room; you hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flickered between you and Adam; his forehead scrunching before his brows raised in amusement. 

“Ah…he warned me about this.” He grinned, flicking a finger between the two of you and scratching at the base of his head. “Kinda weird to see actually.” 

“Sorry?” You smiled politely, head swarmed with confusion, you looked over at Adam only to see he bore a similar expression, “He?” 

“We need to find Magneto,” Logan spoke determinedly, his gaze fierce, his voice taking a tone of finality. He was serious, conviction overtaking the air as the gravity of the situation dawned upon each resident.  

You knew that he was right. 

In that moment, you had been able to do nothing but stand and promptly leave the room; abandon the sound of Charles’ manic laughter that followed Logan’s words, Hank’s doubt that tended to suffocate a room. But most notably, you were abandoning your so-called husband’s silence.  

Somehow, you found yourself curled beneath your bed covers, arms crossed over your knees like a small child; your form shrunken in your fear and heartbreak and doubt, tremors racking your shoulders. As you attempted to steady your breathing, a knock sounded at your bedroom door. Expecting it to be Adam, you promptly rose from your position; scrubbing furiously at your swollen eyelids. 

But to your shock, Logan entered the room. 

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” He held his hands out placantingly, slowly approaching you as if you were a timid animal, “I know you don’t know me, but I know you, Y/N, very well and… I wanted to check you were okay.” 

You nodded, crossing your arms and biting your lip as you mulled over the words he had spoken since his arrival, “It’s okay… I just- haven’t heard his name outside of my own head in a while.” 

“Erik?” 

You smiled, your heart blooming at his real name, the name you had known him by, “Yes… I’m assuming you know about us; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve witnessed one of our messes for yourself,” He had smiled at that, his teeth glinting as he chuffed in amusement, though you could only stare at Logan, building the courage to ask what you desperately wanted to know, “When, you know, you were sent here… was Erik there?” 

“Yes.” Logan nodded. 

“Was I?” 

Logan nodded once again, though opted to do so silently this time. 

“What did he tell you about us?” 

Logan laughed properly then, a smile finally breaking across his face, “He told me not to meddle, that your situation is especially… sensitive, at this point.” He scratched a hand across his chin, his expression filled with nothing but pure mirth as he spoke, “Which I can see, seeing as though he’s locked one hundred feet underground and you’re married.” He finished that with a pointed look at your ring finger. 

You nodded, that you found yourself unable to match his amusement, unsure of exactly what it was he found funny, “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years.” You shrugged, “When I try to think about it, I don’t even know what he looks like anymore.” 

“But you still think about him?” 

You sighed, lowering your gaze to pick at the loose threads upon your old bed sheets; you had always been reluctant to get rid of them, the memories that they held with Erik remained too precious. Slowly and timidly, you spoke, “Every day.” 

Logan could only nod, an exhale sounding from his nose, “Well, if I can trust anything from my time knowing you; it’s your ability to give that man hell.” 

So, the following day; with an overly-energised, overly-excited teenage mutant in tow; Hank, Charles, and Logan had embarked en route for the Pentagon.

“Stay safe.” Adam had spoken as he leaned against the entrance to the house, having opted to stay behind; claiming that the house needed to be watched despite Logan being the first visitor in years. You had simply smiled at him, waving goodbye before turning towards the car; you didn’t miss the way the door had immediately slammed, Adam having chosen to waste no time in ensuring your safe departure. He had been quiet since Logan’s arrival, especially since the mention of Erik’s name and your obvious upset in response. 

You feared that despite his promise to protect the house, he would not be there upon your return. 

“I can’t believe you even married that guy.” Logan had mumbled, chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he slid into the car’s driver's seat; you could only manage a meager glare- your doubt regarding Adam had been clear even to yourself. 

Whilst the others performed the monumental task of attempting to free Erik; you had been tasked with organising the transport from the Pentagon and away, far away. You knew that Charles had orchestrated this purposefully, giving you the chance to see Erik as little as possible if necessary. You had accepted without a fight, you feared that if faced with Erik in a dire situation; you would act impulsively, irrationally. You feared that if faced with Erik, you would be able to do nothing but throw yourself into his arms. 

“Not appropriate.” You had mumbled to yourself at the thought, tapping a hand against the car’s wheel; dark aviators high upon your nose as you awaited. Your other hand hung from the drivers-side window, a dwindling cigarette balancing lazily between your fingers; it had been a nasty habit you had picked up in your adulthood, largely to Adam’s chagrin who had banned you from doing so indoors. You began to recognise that the stress of marriage had aged you significantly; the existence of service had overtaken your life in a way you hadn’t predicted. 

Just as you had begun to dwell upon your own disappointing life decisions; a loud bustle of noise exploded from the doors exiting the building’s kitchen; you only had a second to rescue your cigarette and balance it between your teeth before the group rushed to the car. Peter immediately sped ahead and claimed the passenger seat, grinning at you cheekily as he slid beside you; though this was quickly diminished when Logan slammed the car door back open, promptly gathering the teenager by the lapels of his jacket and ejecting him from the seat. You could only guffaw as he promptly plucked the cigarette from between your teeth, taking a hasty drag as the rest of the group piled into the back. 

You refused to glance at the rear mirror.

“Seriously Y/N?” Charles huffed exasperatedly from what you could assume was the seat directly behind you, the rustling of his jacket prevalent as he attempted to get comfortable in the tight squeeze of seats, “This may be a getaway car but it doesn’t mean you can abuse it to your will with your smoking.” 

You gritted your teeth, slamming your foot upon the pedal and pulling out onto the road; en route to the airport. Erik’s presence behind you plagued your mind, causing your fingers to tighten upon the wheel and your toes to curl within your shoes, every hair upon your neck stood ramrock straight as you waited, yearning for him to acknowledge you. 

This was what you had dreamed of, every night for years, and now you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. 

A gleam caught your eyes as you drove, suddenly all too aware of your left hand rested on the steering wheel. Your wedding ring still adorned upon your finger, glistening obnoxiously in the afternoon sun. Risking a glance, you rose your eyes to the rearview mirror- only to immediately flick your eyes back to the road before you. 

There, in the middle seat, sat Erik- his cheeks sunken, hollow; the effects of years in confinement were prevalent in his every feature. His skin was pale, almost ghastly; his haircut was shaggy, uncaring. But what shocked you the most, what made you pull your eyes away from the man you loved so suddenly- was the way his eyes, those hauntingly blue eyes, stared straight at you, straight at the ring upon your finger. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from squeaking in response, the taste of blood plaguing your mouth as you willed yourself to focus on the road, focus on the mission at hand. 

You knew that Logan had witnessed every moment of that encounter, his dark eyes sunk into the side of your face as you determinedly stared forward, refusing to acknowledge any of the people around you. Alongside the stench of smoke, the air in the car was thick with tension- the aura of unspoken words choking every passenger. Even Peter, the usual chatterbox and the one who had spoken your ears off the entire way to the Pentagon had opted to stay silent; instead staring out of the window, his lips twisted in his own display of tension. 

As you drove in silence, you became all too aware of Erik’s presence; you found yourself pinpointing his specific breaths, the crinkle of his prisoner-assigned uniform, the shuffle of his legs against the side of your seat, the nervous tap of his finger against his knuckles. 

It was a miracle you managed to reach the airport. 

Upon saying goodbye to Peter, you determinedly pushed past the front-row seats of the private jet, opting to sit at the very rear of the plane alongside Logan, of which had simply raised an eyebrow and sighed as you lowered yourself before him, “You two are more pathetic than I expected.” He exhibited an air of nonchalance as he lit his cigar, despite the plane now very much being in the sky, and propped open a newspaper upon his lap- though it was prevalent that he found delight in watching the entire situation unfold. 

You raised your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders stubbornly and sliding back against the base of the chair, “There’s no ‘us two’,” To which you complimented with the use of air quotes, “I am married, Logan.” 

Logan could only laugh at that, shaking his head, a habit he seemed to have picked up in his exasperation at what was unfolding before him, “You do realise I’m from the future right?” 

Scowling, you crossed your arms and opted to sulk at the back of the plane; still determinedly refusing to look Erik’s way- who was now engaging in a heated argument with Charles.

“Do I at least age well?” 

“Of course,” Logan smirked, holding his cigar up in a toast; though he was quickly interrupted by the creaking of metal as the foundations of the plane shook; Erik. Logan jumped forward and immediately threw the two of you to the ground- acting as a human shield as the plane began to tip sideways; Erik’s passion overtaking all rational thought as plates and glassware shattered beside you. 

“You abandoned us all.” He spoke with finality, Charles lay splayed across multiple seats, his hair a tangled mess as he gaped at Erik. You could only pull yourself back into your seat as Charles left for the cockpit, both you and Logan gasping at each other as you attempted to regain your stolen breath.

“So,” Logan grunted, fetching a new cigar and lighting it, “You were always an asshole then.” 

You could only scoff as Erik turned, facing you for the first time since boarding the plane; you noted the way his eyes landed upon anything, anywhere but you. 

“I bet we’re best buds in the future,” Erik smirked sardonically, his voice rough with the sudden severity of his outburst. 

Logan hummed, puffing on his cigar before offering you a puff, to which you politely declined, “Not like me and your old friend Y/N here are.” 

At the mention of your name, his hands spasmed at his sides; his fingers convulsing in a bodily reaction at the mere recognition of your existence. You would have felt excitement, love; if it weren’t for the way his eyes told a different story- cold and piercing as they landed upon you, his cheekbones twitching as he allowed himself a second of eye contact before he abruptly turned, returning to his seat across the plane. 

“Jesus,” Logan mumbled to himself, reclining in his seat and widening his eyes at you; you could only nod. Jesus.

With Erik and Charles opting to keep to themselves, the rest of the journey went swimmingly- immediately upon landing you wasted no time in departing from the suffocating air of the cabin; luxuriating in the deep breaths of fresh, evening air that greeted you. 

“We need to find somewhere to rest.” Charles spoke from behind you, “The drive to the next spot is too long and we’re all exhausted.” He glared pointedly at Erik then, who simply sighed; as you allowed yourself a glance at him, it was prevalent that he too was plagued by fatigue. His cheeks were more sunken than before, his eyes drooping as he visibly struggled to hold himself up. You yearned to reach out, place a hand on his spine and simply hold him, aid him as he wrestled with the weight of the world upon his back. But then, as his eyes turned towards yours, the weight of the wedding ring upon your finger prevailed once again; you could only turn away. 

Hank managed to find a group of last minute rooms at a nearby motel, though as he returned to the reception's waiting area, keys in hand, his nerves were ever-prevalent. “I only managed to get three rooms; two have two beds and another has one, I was thinking-” 

“I’m taking the solo room,” Logan ordered, snatching the key from Hank’s hand and sauntering down the hallway, though not without sending a wink over his shoulder at you. Bastard. 

“Oh-” Hank froze, the other keys dangling from his fingers- you could only watch as he winced, practically praying for you to forgive him with his eyes, “Charles, I doubt it would be safe for you to be with Erik, so I guess…” 

You could only sigh, electing every ounce of confidence you could embody before standing, cutting Hank off once again before retrieving a key from his hand, without turning you spoke, “Well, come on then, Erik.” 

You felt his presence behind you, each of you electing to say nothing as you unlocked the haggard wooden door; its hinges creaking as you pushed open the door. Before you stood two double beds, an only-just-comfortable distance between the two. Nodding to yourself, you entered the room, your fingers twirling the keys nervously as you surveyed the room; you felt the air thicken as the door slammed behind you- you felt like prey finally being cornered by the predator. 

Erik cleared his throat behind you, the sound thick and grating, “I’ll take the bed beside the door; would you like to use the bathroom first?” 

You turned towards him, shocked by his kindness; he could only stare back at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and exhaustion tinting his features. “I- Sure.” You could only croak, opting to briskly enter the bathroom; afraid of irrationality taking over your lovesick mind. Reaching behind the shower’s curtain, you turned on the water before stripping off your clothes, the sound of your ring clattering against the sink as you placed it down caused you to flinch, knowing that Erik would be all too aware of your every move from the other side of the door. 

You took your time in the shower, breathing in the warm steam and collecting yourself after the events of the day, collecting yourself in preparation for the events of the night that was to come. You could do this, even if it meant a sleepless night whilst Erik lay only feet away; whilst the object of all of your nightmares lay only feet away. It reminded you of a night, a night a long time ago; in a motel room just like the one you were in, his skin against yours; his breath hot against the base of your throat as he had slowly stripped you of your clothes, as he had kissed every inch of you. It reminded you of his pants as he pushed into you, his groans as he buried his sweat-coated forehead into the skin of your shoulder, biting and licking and sucking there as you became one. The way that he had moaned his love for you into the skin there, your responsive moans loud and uncaring as you had clawed at the skin of his back, gripped at the hair upon the base of his head- 

Stop; you shut off the hot water, stumbling from the shower as you panted, your cheeks and chest red with warmth as you desperately attempted to remove the memory from your mind. Gripping the porcelain of the sink, you eyed your pathetic reflection; willing, begging, yourself to let this go, let your silly daydreams go. This was reality, your reality. Getting through the night was the only necessity you needed to accomplish, then you could avoid Erik and promptly never see him again. 

You could go back to your husband, back to your life. 

Undeniably however, you couldn’t ignore the way Erik made you feel, the way his mere presence made you feel. Adam’s influence upon you paled entirely in comparison, your obligation to return to him simply one of duty, one to appease your family, one to live the ‘perfect’ life- be the perfect wife. But you craved more, you craved better; for years you had chased and yearned for the way Erik’s slightest touch had made you feel- the way that his love encompassed every molecule of your being; the way that he had branded you for life, rendered unable to ever feel the way you had felt with him again. Your thoughts of Erik made you all too aware of how long you had spent in the bathroom.

How long you had spent, very obviously, avoiding him. 

You emerged from the bathroom in nothing but the oversized shirt you had packed hastily to sleep in; swiping it from the bed due to the short notice you had received in regards to this trip. You felt bare, naked suddenly as you left the bathroom to Erik’s piercing gaze. He sat, fully clothed, lounging against the headrest; allowing a pen to swirl around his fingers, dancing from pointer to thumb as his wrist spun. Entrapped, you could only stand there and stare; stare at the beauty of his powers, at the beauty of him. 

“It feels good,” He spoke slowly, carefully, allowing the pen to drop onto the sheets beside him, “To use my powers again; to feel metal.” 

You nodded, smiling politely, unsure of exactly what to say in response. You opted to stay silent, allowing yourself to walk past him and into your own bed, the crinkle of the duvet loud in the silent room, loud within the silence that was swelling between you. 

“You aren’t wearing it,” Erik spoke suddenly, his voice slicing through the silence; to your shock. Once you recovered, you simply crooked an eyebrow at him, to which he spoke; swallowing his words audibly, “Your ring.” 

“Oh,” You shook your head, staring down at your empty finger, remembering that you had placed it on the sink, “I usually-” 

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.” 

His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?” 

Slowly, at the pit of his lungs, he formed a laugh; his head shaking as his fingers trembled once again, “You think so lowly of me, Darling.” 

“You left me!” You were yelling now, rising from the tangled bed sheets as your chest heaved with anger, heaved with the heartbreak and sadness that had plagued you for the consequent years following his departure, “You left me.” 

“I gave you a choice, Y/N. You chose Charles, you were more than welcome to come with me.” 

You shook your head, scoffing, “Well… if I had gone with you; I would be dead by now.” Your tone held a sense of finality, as supported by your return to the bed as you promptly turned your back to him, curling up under the duvet and refusing to face his reaction to your words. His response followed in the slam of the bathroom door as he promptly left the room; leaving behind the stale air of your own regret. 

It felt like hours as you waited, wondered; hoped for him to come back. Hoped for the two of you to forget the words that had been said, to sleep comfortably in your separate beds and complete this mission as peacefully as possible; to go your separate ways and live your separate lives once again. 

In the depths of these daunting thoughts, you fell asleep; the exhaustion of the day’s tensions taking hold as your eyes slipped closed. You woke, hours later, to the moon’s rays spanning throughout the room; a ghostly glow hanging in the air as you rubbed at your eyes, glancing to your side, Erik was fast asleep; his sharp edges and soft hair illuminated in the scant light- you allowed yourself a moment, just that moment, to take him in. Drink in the features you hadn’t faced in almost a decade, the features you longed to reach out towards; to trail a finger down his jaw or scratch a nail upon his hair. His hair was wavy, a slightly damp smell filtered throughout the room told you that he too had taken the opportunity to shower. 

The thought of his broad shoulders and lean back illuminated by the spray of hot water did nothing to help the swarm of doubt swirling within your gut. Shaking your head, you reached into the bag beside your bed; fetching the box of cigarettes stashed within one of the inner pockets. 

Then, barefoot and in just a shirt, you shouldered open the room’s door, balancing a cigarette upon your lip as you did so before promptly lighting it, traversing the motel’s corridors silently before reaching the fire escape. Hoisting yourself upwards, you climbed up the ladders before finally reaching the building’s roof. The night was clear, quiet; the only sounds emerging from the distant highway and subsequent traffic- you listened out for any signs of disruption as you lowered yourself to the roof, allowing your legs to dangle from the side of the building. 

The silence of the night and the goosebumps prickling at your bare arms allowed the tears to emerge; it allowed them to pour down your cheeks, for snot to bubble at your nose and for your lips to tremble with unkempt sobs. You allowed for your hurt to take hold, for your hurt at Erik’s words and actions and simple presence to take hold. But then you allowed your hurt towards yourself to unfold; for allowing yourself to end up here, in this situation- living this life that you had manufactured for yourself. 

You couldn’t go back to that motel room, but most notably you couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t bear it anymore; the stresses of being within that barron manor were becoming too much to bear. If you couldn’t be with Erik, then you would rather be alone; somewhere far away, far away from here. You stewed upon this thought for a long time, as you lit your second, third and fourth cigarettes; it prevailed. 

Just as your fourth cigarette began to dwindle, the slam of a door sounded below you before hasty, alert footsteps lined the hallway. You rose, walking back towards the highest entrance of the fire exit before looking down; listening as the hurried steps continued, haggard breaths accompanying it. Opting to investigate, you lowered yourself onto the platform below before descending the stairs; entering the residential hallway of the hotel. There, at the end of the corridor stood Erik, the obvious source of the worried footsteps as his chest heaved; he was turning in place, visibly searching for something as he rushed down the hallway. 

“What-” You mumbled, slowly walking towards him as he had not yet spotted you. Finally, you decided to catch his attention; concerned as to whether there was some form of danger, “Erik?” You called, a hand shielding your eyes as you peered down the dark hallway. You watched as he froze at the sound of your words, his head snapping towards you as he drank in your presence, your appearance. 

“What the fuck-” He breathed, immediately shaking off his shock and advancing towards you, practically running as he reached you. Entirely unannounced, he swept you up into his arms; shaking as he lowered his head to your shoulder, practically breathing you in as he tightened his hold by the second. 

“Erik, what-” 

“What is your problem?” He pulled back almost as soon as it had begun, his breathing staggered as a blush covered his cheeks; he wore only the black tank top and sweatpants he had been asleep in, his hair a mess upon his head; as if he had just jumped from his bed, “I woke up and- and you were gone, your bed sheets were practically stale with how long you’ve been gone I-” 

“I’m fine.” You assured, catching his hands between your own as an attempt to calm him down; the worry he had been feeling now prevalent within the staggering of his chest and the blush at his cheeks, “I just went to have a smoke I- let’s get you back to the room.”

He nodded, his glassy eyes immediately beginning to droop as he allowed you to use your grasp on his hand to pull him down the hallway. Upon depositing him into his own bed, as you left to enter your own, a tight grip latched upon your wrist; you turned, only to be met with those blue eyes swarming with desperation, “Stay?”

You sighed, nodding reluctantly before crawling in beside him; allowing him to drape an arm over your waist, allowing him to rest his head upon yours. Before your departure, before the decision would be set; you could allow yourself this one thing, this one night of unplagued sleep as his comfort would ward away the nightmares that tended to tinge your nights. 

But, before you could fall asleep; Erik’s voice rumbled above you, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You could only shrug, pressing your nose to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, “Me too, Erik.” 

He moved backwards then, settling so that his face lay directly before yours; the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with each second breath. It seemed that he could only muster a whisper as he continued to speak, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes grew wet as he spoke, his head shaking slightly as he smiled sadly. 

“Erik.” You whispered, your voice soft with contempt as you raised a hand to his cheek; brushing away the tears that had begun to fall there. Feeling him swallow against your wrist, you could only watch as his eyes flickered downwards, just as your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. Before you could register, he had moved; his lips pressed to yours as your cheeks grew wet with his steadily falling tears. Your mind allowed nothing else but to kiss back, to shift your leg upwards and to caress his cheek with your thumb. He kissed you earnestly, slowly; as if approaching a terrified fawn, testing the waters as to what you would allow him. You could practically taste the desperation perspiring his tongue, as you assumed he could yours. You would take anything, trade any parts of your wretched souls if it meant that you could feel this forever; feel the warmth of his tongue sliding against yours for every waking moment that remained. 

Erik pulled back then, only to lower himself; his mouth hot and needy against your throat, his hands trailing patterns against the skin of your stomach; becoming exposed as your shirt had rode upwards. His ministrations rendered you only able to lay there and pant; to bask in the feeling of being needed, wanted. Truly, ferociously. 

As he began to paint a trail of kisses down your stomach, something changed; something shifted in his demeanour. His hands, beginning to pull your thighs upward, were shaking and whilst his lips were forming kisses, they were forming words too. As you raised yourself to rest against your elbows, you finally heard the words forming within his mouth, “Please don’t go back to him.” He was whispering, pairing the almost unspoken words with a gentle kiss to the nearest area of skin; he was crying again, his eyes glistening with fresh, unshed tears as he burrowed his face into your skin. It seemed as if he was afraid to let you go, practically burrowing himself into your being, with the hopes that you would stay. 

“Erik, Erik wait-” You spoke urgently, lowering your hand to his chin before pushing him away; he stared up at you through his glassy eyes; his hair ruffled and cheeks rosy. Confusion graced his features at first, though he soon registered the concern in your eyes and realisation visibly dawned upon him. 

He removed himself from you then, moving to sit at the end of the bed; the duvet splayed around his waist as he sat with his legs crossed. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, wiping at his mouth and running a finger over his teary eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I- it’s not my place to tell you what to do.” 

Instantly, you crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and settling yourself into the space between his legs; you felt his cheeks crinkle as you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, but you could still sense his confusion, his doubt. “I knew I would be leaving him the moment Logan mentioned your name, whether you were coming with me or not.” You stroked his hair as you spoke, caressing your fingers through the thin tendrils of oaky brown hair that adorned your lover's head. Erik grinned then; his teeth shining as he practically mooned up at you, he kissed you again then; pulling you in and deeper into his lap. 

Before you could push him onto his back, before you could lower yourself upon him and mobilise the groans that would fall from his mouth; he abruptly straightened up, untwining his hand from beneath your shirt and raising it in the air- your wedding ring flew towards the two of you, hanging in the air before Erik made a flicking motion with his fingers; you could only gape as the ring flew through the open window and into the darkness of the night. 

“Erik!” You squealed, hitting at his chest as he laughed loudly, unabashedly. Despite being secretly pleased, you couldn’t allow him to know that. “That was expensive!” 

“I can find you better,” Erik grumbled against your chest, burrowing his head into your shirt and inhaling unashamedly, “That one wasn’t you anyway, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that ghastly thing on your finger.” 

The only response you could have mustered in that moment was to shove him back against the bed; silencing him with the warmth of your own mouth.

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[xo-hoon]

𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 — p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: revenge, angst, smut, fluff

synopsis: Sunghoon nurtured a profound animosity towards his childhood friend, Lee Heeseung, blaming him for his sister's death. To Sunghoon, his sister was the only person who had genuinely loved him, making Heeseung's perceived betrayal unforgivable. This deep resentment sparked an intense desire for revenge, driving Sunghoon to extreme measures to achieve it. But to what extent would he go to find satisfaction in his vengeance against Lee Heeseung? Would his plans unfold smoothly, or would everything take an unexpected turn, throwing his schemes into something he didn’t expect.

word count: 7k

warnings: swearing, kidnapping (kinda), possessive hoon, mentions of death, fake marriage, depression.

an eye for an eye: part 1 - masterlist

The familiar feeling of emptiness flooded his body. Sunghoon’s eyes were lifeless as the they gazed at the coffin where his sister’s remains lay.

This was the same feeling he had when his father’s mistress left him at his biological father’s mansion.

He felt the coldness of his father towards him. He felt the hatred of his father’s wife. He saw disappointment in his grandparents’ faces.

He was unloved and unwanted, it was a no brainer.

For a six-year-old child, it was all too much to take. When he was living with his mother, he was treatedlike shit. And when he lived with his father, there was no difference at all. It’s no wonder why he became wary of people. He wouldn’t want to talk to anyone, nor be in the same room as them. He would only go out to eat and return to his room to lock himself up. He even thought back then that his existence was big bad joke.

But one day, a girl with the same dark brown eyes as his went inside his room and forced him to leave the house and drink up some sunshine. He had no other choice but to follow the girl because she would never let go of his hand.

Truth to be told, Sunghoon found the girl irritating, he wanted to hurt her. But when she said that she was his sister and that she would protect him from all evil, he was left speechless. Because for the first time in years, there was a person who wanted to protect him. Her older sister’s smile made him cry, not because of sadness, but because of happiness.

He let out a hollow laugh. He will never see those smiles of her sister ever again. Those good old times would now be just a mere memory.

He slightly turned his head when he heard someone familiar talking behind him. Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as he stared at the cause of his beloved sister’s death, Lee Heeseung. His bestfriend and her sister’s boyfriend.

With heavy feet, he stood up and approached the guy and his father who he was talking to.

“You’re not welcome here, Lee Heeseung. Leave” His voice was hard and heavy.

“Park Sunghoon!” His father reprimanded.

“Uncle, can you please give us a minute? We’re just going to talk.”

“If you want to explain what happened, then let me tell you that you’re just wasting your time.” He said, blankly, not showing an ounce of emotion to the guy in front of him.

“Please, Sunghoon, listen to me. I didn’t want all of this to happen. I-I’m sorry.” Heeseung sounded so pathetically contrite, making him want to vomit.

“So you want me forgive you just like that, Heeseung?” He sarcastically remarked. Heeseung shook his head with a sigh and looked at Sunghoon with pleading eyes once again.

“I know it was partly my fault, and I am also hurting, Sunghoon. You know how much I love your sister, and I wouldn’t ask for this to happen.”

“You wouldn’t ask for this to happen?” He sharply retorted what the guy said. “It was the middle of the fucking night, yet you asked her to go out riding in your stupid car. You asked her to leave even if it was already late. Clearly, you asked for this the happen! You are the reason why my sister is lying there!” He lashed out, pointing at the coffin where her sister’s lifeless body lie.

“It was our anniversary! I invited her out because I wanted to surprise her!” Heeseung’s left hand balled into a fist he was sure the right one would do the same if it weren’t in a sling due to the accident.

“Yeah, and because of that stupid surprise, my sister died.” He saw the look of hurt in his best friend’s eyes, but the pain that he is seeing wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to beat the shit out of Heeseung and kill him with his bare hands, but that would be too easy.

“I didn’t know that a drunk driver would appear and hit us! If only I knew… I-if only I knew…” Heeseung’s eyes reddened with pain.

Sunghoon’s greeted his teeth, turning away. “Leave.”

“Sunghoon, please….”

“Just leave!” he hissed. “Leave and don’t ever show your face to me ever again.” He said in a serious tone.

“Sunghoon?” He was quick to turn his head towards the source of the voice. There stood Y/n, standing next to Heeseung as she anxiously glanced back and forth between the two. “Why would you say that to my brother?”

His lips pressed firmly with a stern expression. “Because his idea of a pleasant surprise is a bad joke.”

That was all he said before returning to his seat. He didn’t bother to look at the two again, and he wasn’t able to see Y/n’s eyes widen in surprise. He only heard the faint farewells of the two to his father.

Once again, Sunghoon confined in his own lonely world. He feels like he was cursed and happiness was forcefully denied to him. Losing his sister who helped him break free from his dark world was painful.

Losing a friend that he considered a family was painful.

Losing the woman he had learned to love was painful.

In just a snap, he lost the people who gave color to his world.

10 years later…

The service crew was very attentive, Sunghoon noticed. The place was modern and cozy. He hadn’t taste any of the pastries yet, but they looked appetizing. All in all, the bakeshop was pretty impressive. There’s no wonder why a lot of people go here.

On the other hand, it was quite a surprise that he’s in the shop. This was the first time he set foot in this place.

He wouldn’t bother to come if it weren’t for something important, especially since the owner of this bakeshop is the sister of someone he despises.

Yes, he knew you owned this place.

Your town is small enough for him to not know that. So, why the hell would he choose to meet someone in your haven of all places? There was a ninety-nine percent chance of him seeing you there. But what can he do about it?

His ‘oh so noble father’ commanded him to meet with the girl he liked for him. Obviously wanting him to settle down already. And because that he is the only son of his beloved father, he has no right to oppose to it.

He felt his phone rang and he answered.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Mr. Park.”

Said the girl on the other line. The voice sound forcefully seductive it sounded cheap to his ear.

“May I know who’s on the other line?”

Sunghoon asked lazily and almost rolled his eyes.

“This is Shin Yuna. I’m the one you’re meeting at the bakery in town.”

His eyes went searching for a woman who was on the phone, probably speaking with him. At the door he saw a woman wearing a tight-fitting yellow dress. The woman had a phone pressed to one ear, her eyes scanning the inside of the shop. Looks like she was the one he’s waiting for.

He ended that call once her eyes landed on him. Evidently, she’d recognize him. A sensual smile appeared on her bloody red lips and she started walking towards him.

He should feel lucky because the woman was a catch. Her skin was smooth and fair, she had shiny, long hair. And in his opinion, aside from her hourglass figure, the girl’s flawless legs were her best asset, free from any scars.

She was gorgeous all right. But it doesn’t have an impact on Sunghoon.

Yuna must be one of those girls who are pretty on the outside, empty in the inside. Beautiful but annoying and boring.

He stood up as the girl approached. He offered his hand but she didn’t take it. Instead, she leaned to give him a kiss on his cheek. Okay, he wasn’t at all shocked by that.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Park” she greeted

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Shin.”

“Please, call me Yuna.” She said with a wide almost flirty smile. “Then call me Sunghoon.” He motioned her to the seat in front of him. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, have you ordered anything yet” she said as she sat.

Sunghoon shook his head. “Not yet, I was waiting for you. And it’s my first time here, I don’t know what food to choose.” Her hand rested on his arm and he wasn’t born yesterday to not know that she was openly flirting with him.

“Oh Really? You should try their famous gyeran-ppang. It’s a fluffy loaf of bread with a whole egg inside. It’s really good, I suggest you try it.”

Sunghoon suddenly remembered you, gyeran-ppang was your favorite ever since. Be it sweet of savory. He didn’t expect that those two could be brought together.

“If you liked it, maybe I should try it.” He simply said, trying to push away the memories. Yuna’s eyes sparkled, and he wanted to roll his eyes, but Sunghoon retrained himself. What was an hour of enduring this infront of her, right?

“Okay, I’ll just go to the counter to order, since this is a self-service shop.” Yuna said as he noticed a slight frown on her face. “I hope next time they hire waiters here so customers won’t have to go to the counter to do the job.”

Ah, he knew it.

His assumptions were correct, the girl only visually pleasing. Deep inside, she was a typical rich brat. He found his father’s taste in girl quite funny.

“It’s like hitting two birds with one stone. The service would be aster, plus it would provide jobs for jobless people. That way, more customers would go here, and it would reduce the number of unemployed people.” She annoyingly added further.

God help him stop himself from sneering. As if he’d believe that shit. What could this girl possibly know about work and helping other people?

“Yeah, you’re right.” He answered dryly. “I’ll order, I’m the guy here and I should be the one treating you and taking care of things.”

She sweetly smiled at him once again. “Why, thank you, Sunghoon. I’ll have two gyeran-ppang and one iced coffee. And please ask for a fork and knife while you’re at it.”

“Alright.” He gave her a small smile and quickly stood up, immediately walking his way to the counter to escape his date. He wished the serving of their food would last longer, but the workers in the shop were indeed good at what they do. In less than six minutes. He was back at his table with Yuna waiting for him.

“Go ahead and try it.” She urged him to sit down as their order was served. He took a bit of the gyeran-ppang and he instantly knew why it became popular in the area.

“It’s good right?” He simply nodded in response. Yuna then picked up the bread knife and fork that he requested earlier and used them to eat.

“Why use a fork and knife? It’s a finger food.” He couldn’t help but to ask.

“Oh, eating it with my fingers would be a mess, and my lipstick would smudge if I eat it directly.” Sunghoon avoided raising the corners of if his lips.

“I see. I’m surprised that you eat food like this and have that kind of body.” Yuna let out a shy laugh at his statement.

“I’m very conscious with what I eat, but when I tried this a few weeks ago, I forgot the diet. I even bought boxes of it for the orphanage that we were helping, And the kids loved it too.”

She was trying to impress him by mentioning the word orphanage? Would it be a bad idea to laugh? Or was he being too hard on this girl? After all, what did he know about Yuna? He didn’t even bother to make an effort to find out about the girl’s demeanor before coming here. Is her values really worth his time? Sunghoon bit his lip to stop himself from commenting something he’d regret saying later on.

Sunghoon glanced at the entrance of the bakeshop and he swore he felt his heart pounded. A pang of nostalgia when he saw a familiar figure arrive.

You were like an angel minus the wings and the halo. You were wearing a simple with dress that gave you sweet and innocent look. He didn’t expect that you would become even more beautiful than you are over the years. Your rosy white skin was flawless, he longed to touch it. Your lips were full and naturally pink. He almost tasted those once and he suddenly had this urge to kiss you.

He sighed forcefully, everything about him was cold earlier but he felt so damn hot in an instant just by seeing you. He wanted to own you, he wanted to make you his.

Sunghoon felt his heart race at he continued to stare at your face, feeling the rush of warmth in his body.

The beautifully scattered moles on your face made you look more unique ang exquisite to him. Back then, Sunghoon thought he could spend the rest of his life just by looking at your lovely face. Your beautifully sculpted brown eyes with thick and long lashes were still bright and full of life. He wanted to lose himself one day while looking at those hypnotic vivid orbs.

You walked you way towards the counter and greeted your staff with a bright smile.

The sun’s heat was nothing compared to the warmth of your smile. You were like the sun, only brighter, with inky black hair shining.

Now that’s his kind of pretty. You would always be his kind of pretty. Your beauty was ethereal, it was second to none in Sunghoon’s eyes. He mustered all his strength to look away from the person who evoked such emotions from him.

He tried to put his focus on the person in front of him, but his eyes would occasionally wander back to you.

“So, what are you busy with these days?” He heard Yuna asked him.

“Work, I guess.” He shrugged. “We export high quality mangoes to our neighboring countries.”

“Oh. Yeah, my parents and I visited your mango farm once. And I must say, your place is very refreshing.”

“Thank you, how about you? What your work?” He asked to have something to talk about, not because he wanted to know.

Yuna took a sip of her iced coffee before responding.

“I’m an interior designer, I often have famous celebrities as my client.” She said, feeling proud. “You know that one actor in squid game? He was my last client. Tell you what, his mansion was large, so I was very happy that I got the project.”

He tried his best not to look bored.

What does he care about celebrities? He hadn’t even watched this movie that she was talking about. But he needed to endure all this for two reasons. First, he didn’t want to be rude no matter how his inner demon wished to be. And second, to distract himself from your presence.

His only problem now is how will he hide himself from the owner of this bakery.

—

“Hey, Ning. How are you all doing?” You asked your worker working on the cashier as you entered the counter.

“We’re doing fine, Y/n. It was a bit of a hassle earlier because there were loads of customers, but it was overall doing alright. I mean, what’s a little hassle when you can earn profit, right?” Ningning said, smiling widely.

You giggled. “Yes, true. Sorry for being late, I wasn’t able to help you here. I just had something to take care of back home.”

“No, Y/n. It’s all good, you’re the boss here after all. You don’t have to worry about a single thing, we got you.” She said reassuringly, smiling softly at you.

“Yeah, Y/n. Besides, we know you’re going through something tough right now. How was everything anyway?” Sunoo, your amazing barista, asked. You sighed deeply before answering the young man.

“It’s not settled yet, our ranch is still a mess.”

“Oh, Y/n. Don’t be down like that, you’re going to get through everything sooner than you think.” You just smiled a Sunoo’s statement.

You needed money to rebuild the barn. You needed to hire new workers to manage the ranch. It could all be solved with money, but the problem is you don’t have much of it.

Ever since your parents died few years ago, your brother took over the management of the estate.

But what can Heeseung do when half of his life was into car racing? Even you don’t know how to run a ranch because your job is making different kinds of delicious bread. Before you and Heeseung could even realize it, the inheritance your parents left you both was slowly falling apart.

And now you and your brother wanted to save the precious land. You would give all the earning from the bakeshop just to make it work, but it was just wasn’t enough. You and Heeseung tried going to the banks, but they turned you down every time you tried. Your brother doesn’t want your house or land as collateral.

You were thankful for the people working for your shop as they wholeheartedly give you their support.

“Thank you for comforting my, guys. Don’t worry, if everything settles down, I’ll definitely throw a party.” They all cheered as you smiled.

You went out to fix the displays in the counter. You didn’t notice someone passing by, making you bump into them.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, realizing that you bumped into a woman. She quickly brushed off the area you bumped into and gave you a sharp look.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” She turned to look at the person next to her and whispered.

“Sunghoon, let’s go?”

You felt like you were turned into stone and it looks like Sunghoon felt the same way. It seems like he was frozen in place where he stood, his gaze solely fixed on you.

But it seemed like you’re mistaken because when you looked closely at the man, his face had no expression at all.

He had changed, but not really. He was still the same Sunghoon. Only stronger, leaner, harder, darker, and more attractive. It scared you, he scared you. Yet, you wanted to reach out and talk to him. But to your utter dismay, he just walked past you. And before you knew, he was long gone. Again.

Sunghoon kept telling himself that he was not a stalker, but it had been five days and this was his fifth time your bakeshop. He just couldn’t go inside. So for those five days, he contented himself with parking in front of your shop, and watching from inside his car.

When he saw you again, he had a big idea in mind, and yes, that was the reason why he kept going to your bakeshop. Sadly, he would always go home without seeing you.

He couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between you and your employees. Their table wasn’t that far from the counter so it was inevitable. He was surprised that you didn’t notice him right away. But if Sunghoon were to talk about surprising things, what he heard was even more surprising.

It looked like karma found its way to Lee Heeseung. He should be happy about it and somehow, he was.

Heeseung took something from him, someone important, so Sunghoon should take someone important from him too.

A sister for a sister. An eye for an eye.

He glanced at his watch and told himself that this should be the perfect time. He got out of his car and walked straight towards the bakeshop. It was already past eight o’clock, but the bakeshop was still almost full.

He noticed the two service crew he saw last time, staring at him, but they immediately turned their backs on him. He approached them.

“Told you, the person inside the black car that is always parked in front of the shop isn’t a bad person. Look at him, he’s too handsome to be a bad person.” He heard the girl he assumed the name was Ningning.

“Seriously? Just because someone isn’t physically attractive doesn’t mean they’re a bad person, you know? And not everyone who looks good is automatically good. You’re being too judgmental.” Sunoo rebuked.

“And what thing could he possibly do, huh?” Ningning asked sarcastically.

“Hello? Ever heard of the saying ‘looks can be deceiving’?” Sunghoon tried not to smirk. Because their backs were facing him, they weren’t able to notice him approaching a while ago.

“Excuse me?” He said, gaining attention from the two. Ningning turned around, her eyes slightly widened.

“Yes, Sir? How can we help you?” Despite the surprise, she quickly regained her composure.

Sunghoon gave her a slight smile. “Um, I’m looking for Y/n. Is she here?” He noticed the two exchanged glances as Ningning seemed a bit hesitant before responding.

“May I ask what’s your relation to Miss Y/n, Sir?”

“I’m a friend. I’d like to have a word with her.”

“Miss Y/n is still in her office.” He saw her co-worker elbowed her, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. “If you’d like, you can have a seat while waiting for her.”

“Okay, Thank you.” He said, walking around the shop to find a comfortable seat. And he couldn’t help but to overhear their conversation once again.

“Friend? Then why am I just seeing him now?”

“I don’t know. He seems nice to me even though he looks a bit harsh.”

“Oh well. Good thing Jake is not here or else he might get jealous.”

For some godforsaken reason, he found his heart tightening at the name he just heard. Who was this Jake guy that might get jealous over him? Is it your Suitor? Boyfriend? Fiance? Sunghoon clenched his jaw. Just imagining another man touching a strand of your inky black hair made him feel sick.

He sat on an empty table near the counter and patiently waited there.

“Ningning, Sunoo, I’m leaving. Will you two be alright staying?” Said the enticing voice near the counter. He glanced over and saw you there.

“Call me whenever something happened, alright? I’ll get going.”

“Oh, Y/n! someone is looking for you.” Ningning said before she forgot. Your brows furrowed as you looked Ningning with a puzzled expression.

“Who?”

Sunghoon stood up and spoke. “Me.” He watched your eyes grow wide with shock as he walked towards you. “Can we talk?”

“I… Of course.” You absent-mindedly nodded. You pointed at the room where you came from. “Let’s go to my office.”

The air tensed up the moment you both entered your office. You sat on your chair as Sunghoon took the visitor’s chair. His eyes were trained on your face while you were looking down on your lap. No one dared to speak. It was dead quiet inside the room, a silent standstill.

Sunghoon decided not to make rhings more awkward. “It’s been a while Y/n.” Great, you suck at opening conversations, man. He honestly wanted to smack himself.

You looked up and your eyes met. “Yeah, it has been a while. How are you?” You slightly smiled at him.

“I’m doing great. You? How are you? I heard your having problems at the ranch.” He paused at what he said. It made him wonder if he was rushing the conversation.

“How did you know?” You asked hesitantly. “The town is a small place, Y/n.” She firmly pressed her lips together. For someone sweet and innocent-looking, you could be fiery too.

“Yes, there’s a big problem at the ranch, but it would be solved in no time.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow at the intensity he heard in your voice. “According to what I’ve heard, you were having troubles finding the money needed to fix things on your ranch. So, I came here to offer a proposal.” He leaned on the chair and watched your confused face. You were always this transparent, it’s likely that you now think he’s going crazy.

“What proposal?” You asked with confusion written all over your face.

“I will lend the money you need for the ranch, but you have to marry me.” His simple answer seemed like he was just inviting you to go out ang have a picnic. You looked at him with an unreadable expression before you respond.

“I’m going to what?!”

“You heard me.” He knew it was unnecessary because she could always reach him if she wanted to. But Sunghoon still took a business card from his wallet and placed it on the table.

“I want you to think about it. Call me whenever you made up your mind.”

You stood up from your seat and looked at him with hard eyes. “If you’re just playing around like you used to do, just leave, Sunghoon. Don’t waste my time.”

He also stood up to remind you of the significant height difference you both had.

“I’m not fooling around, Y/n. I’m dead serious.”

“Then why? Why would you want to marry me?” You asked, still stunned be his offer.

“For revenge, I guess? I’ll lend your dear brother the money to help with the recovery of your ranch. But after that, you will cut ties with him. You can’t meet him nor even talk to him.” He took a deep breath before letting out the next heavy words.

“He took my sister from me, I will take you away from him. It’s my kind of revenge.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Oh, yeah?” He smirked but once again quickly turned serious. “Whose fault is that?”

“Why would you think would I agree to that?” You tilted you chin up, trying to defy him. Too bad, it was futile. The corner of his mouth went up again. “Because you’ve got no other option.”

“You’re insane.”

“Crazy? Insane? Well, maybe you could come up with something more colorful after this.” He grabbed your nape and captured you sinfully pink lips. The table wasn’t able to hinder him from giving you something that would shake your world.

—

Your heart was pounding as you proceeded to enter your house. You still couldn’t believe what just happened thirty minutes ago. The Sunghoon whom you secretly love, and the friend who suddenly left you and your brother returned to shake up your world once again.

One slap wasn’t enough for what he did to you. And he has the audacity to be the one walking out after his recklessness.

You touched your lips. Until now, you still feel the young man’s kiss and the warmth of his lips brushing against yours. It was a shocking first time and definitely a memorable one. But despite all that, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

You took a deep breath before walking to the kitchen to get something to drink. But on your way, your gaze drifted towards the study room. The room was slightly ajar. You approached and entered.

You saw your brother sitting on the swivel chair with his eyes closed. He looks beat and tired and it pained you. If there’s only something you could do to help solve this problem, you had already done it.

Then it hit you. You could do something to help you dear brother and fix the problem. Only, there was a price to pay.

It has already been ten years since Sunghoon’s sister died. Maybe it’s time for you to do something to make him forgive your brother and move on. Maybe you could at least give him a bit of happiness, maybe you could do something to bring him back to his old self.

You glanced at your brother. Please, trust me on this.

It would be hard, you knew. But you needed to do something to save them all.

“We’re here,” Sunghoon announced. “Nervous?”

You looked out the car window and surveyed the grand mansion that would become your new home. Your heart was racing, and you felt like your heartbeat was at one hundred and seventy bars per minute. You felt nauseous, your hands were badly sweating and you were having a hard time breathing.

No, you weren’t nervous. You were having an anxiety attack.

Sunghoon unbuckled your seatbelt before holding your face with both hands, waiting for to look into his eyes. His eyes were dark and sensual. Nope, it didn’t help you calm down a bit.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” He asked with concern in his voice. He felt your forehead and neck as if checking if you had a fever.

You felt electricity ran through your body because of his touch. Feeling as if you were burning, you pulled away from him and averted your gaze somewhere else.

“I’m fine. It’s just that, this was all so sudden.” You noticed his expression darken from the corner of your eyes.

“Then get used to it because you’re my wife starting today.”

Before you could even respond, he already exited the car and opened the passenger side door for you. He took the duffle bag containing a few pieces of your clothes. He then held your hand as you both walked towards the mansion.

“Don’t be so stiff, Y/n. There’s no way I would hurt you, you know?”

You knew Sunghoon was telling the truth, but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. He wouldn’t hurt you, he said. Still, he had the power to, especially now that you were married.

It all happened so fast. Just last week you were still a Lee, and you still couldn’t believe that you are now Mrs. Park.

After that night, you went to your bakery and called Sunghoon the next morning. And a week later, you were now married. No entourage, reception or whatsoever.

After the civil wedding with the judge that Sunghoon knew, you went straight to the mansion, you didn’t even manage to say goodbye to your brother who was currently not in korea.

At the mansion’s door, you were both greeted by Aunt Chul, the house keeper. Sunghoon and his sister had nannies when they were children, but they remained closest to the woman.

“Dear!” Aunt Chul greeted you as she gave you a warm hug, then gently held your face as she pulled away.

“How are you? It has been so long and you grew beautifully, Dear.”

Despite everything, you were able to put a happy and genuine smile on your face. “Thank you, Auntie. I’m doing great, and you?”

“Oh, I’m not getting any younger, dear! I think I can count the remaining black hairs I have left.” The woman joked, laughing slightly.

“You still look great, Auntie.” You smiled at her, shaking you head slightly.

“You’re still the same old playful one, aren’t you?” she teased. “Now come get inside, I prepared you both something to eat.”

She turned to Sunghoon and looked at him. “Let me take that bag, son.”

“Oh, no. We can handle this, Auntie. Thank you.” He said embracing the elderly person.

“My wife and I are just going to have a talk before we eat.” You froze when you heard him say the word ‘wife’. Yes, there’s no mistaking it. You really are Park Sunghoon’s wife.

When you glanced at the woman, there’s not a trace of surprise marred her serene face, which puzzled you.

“Alright, you know where to go when you two want to eat.” She smiled softly.

Sunghoon guided you upstairs to the room where you’re staying.

The room was definitely Sunghoon, very neat and manly. The walls were painted white, accommodating the rich hue of the big bed and built-in cabinets. Everything was well placed and clean.

“You may find my room dull and boring.” He said as he placed your bag on the side of the dresser. “But you may refurnish it however you like. Have the walls painted, the curtains changed. Just don’t put too much pink.”

You blushed at what he said, you were a girl who has a deep obsession with color pink ever since. And it seems like he still remembers that about you. But as much as you wanted to renovate the room and make it appear more your style, you wouldn’t do so. You liked the room as it was.

You didn’t notice Sunghoon approaching, so you gasped when you felt your husband pulling you by the waist closer to him.

“Let’s talk.”

“Y-yes, of course – Sunghoon!” You let out a small scream as the strong man lifted you up, and you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Sunghoon, what the hell are you doing?”

“I was supposed to carry you over the threshold, but I knew that you would snap at me if Aunt Chul sees us.” He answered with a gorgeous grin on his face. For a minute, he looked like the boy you used to know.

The guy you used to love.

But no matter how handsome the young man appeared to you now, you still couldn’t stop the seething the anger in your heart towards him.

“And you think I wouldn’t do that now? I did that once before, I could do it again.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m more prepared this time.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes. He dropped you onto the bed and hovered above you. You gasped for air when you felt his hard body on top of yours. You were sure that when you entered this room, the AC was on, but for some reason the air became thick and hot and filled with desire.

“I t-thought we’re going to talk?” Your voice was shaky and far different from you challenging voice earlier.

“We are. We’ll talk like this.” He lowered his head and nestled into your neck. You had never been intimate with any man. This was new to you. Your heart was beating wildly and you afraid Sunghoon would hear it.

You felt so warm, it was as if your bones were melting. It felt good to be this close to him. And he had been hugging you for a while now. He was the only man who could make you feel extreme emotions.

“I told them about us.” You heard him mumble, his hot breath licking your cold neck.

“You… what?” You asked, disoriented.

“I told everyone in this house about us. Even my dad that’s currently in Japan.” He lifted his head and looked at you as if you as if he wanted to know what you were thinking, if not to absorb your very soul.

“You told them about our agreement?”

“No, I only told them that we were getting married. That I couldn’t wait about Dad’s arrival. That we saw each other again, and instantly fell in love. So make sure to be a loving wife to me, especially in front of them.”

As if he needed to say it. “Of course. But I hope you don’t forget about the other part of the agreement. The money, Sunghoon. I need it.”

“I didn’t forget about that. I’ll give it to your brother as soon as I see him.”

“Glad to hear tha—“

Sunghoon slowly lowered his head, your eyes widened. “Wait, what are you-“

“You’re mine, Y/n. Including your body.” He said with his tempting mouth.

You wanted to stop him and tell him to stop what he was doing, but no words came out of your lips. Instead, a sound coming from your stomach halted your husband’s advances. You didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or thankful. You were saved, not by the bell, but by your tummy.

God! Sunghoon didn’t need to smile, amusement was in his eyes.

“Maybe we should eat first.” Sunghoon withdrew from being pressed against you, stood up, and extended his hand towards you.

“Come.” You hesitantly took his hand and stood up as well, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Do you still know the way to the dining room?” He asked as you refused to meet his gaze, just nodding in response.

“Do you mind going there alone? I just needed to call someone. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

You just nodded again and quickly left the room. Usually, after the wedding comes the honeymoon. Or in your case, funnymoon.

—

The moment you—or rather, his wife—stepped outside, Sunghoon finally let go of the smile he had been holding back.

Yes, you had become matured and become tough over the past few years, but in many ways, you still hadn’t really changed. You were still funny, cute, adorable, and his.

His previously bright face was now replaced by a blank expression. Finally, Heeseung would experience what it was like to lose someone important to him. The only difference is that no one would die.

He wouldn’t hurt you, at least, not intentionally ang physically. Never. Heeseung was still lucky that Sunghoon had some semblance of a heart left.

All he wanted was to emotionally torture him. He would make his heart bleed in sorrow, until he would beg him to stop.

And that would start now.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. On the third ring, the person he was trying to reach answered.

“Yes, hello?”

His grip on the device tightened upon hearing the voice of the man he despises.

“Heeseung.”

He could taste the bitterness in his own voice. The man on the other line wasn’t able to respond immediately, so he continued.

“I heard you’re not in korea right now.”

“No, I’m not. What do you need, Sunghoon?”

He asked directly, without preamble.

Nothing, you’re the one who’s going to need something from me.

“Nothing, really. But if I were you, I’d go back to korea right now.”

He could already see the furrow on his former friend’s face. Soon he would face his range, but instead of being afraid, he would actually be glad to see it.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s Y/n. She left your house and she’s with me now. Too bad you weren’t there when she left.”

It was a shame for Sunghoon the he couldn’t see firsthand how the person on the other line is reacting.

He bet it would be priceless.

“You son of a bitch. What did you do to her?!”

He heard the grinding of his interlocutor’s teeth making him chuckle sarcastically.

“You asshole!”

“Yeah, Heeseung. Curse me all you want, but I’ll make sure that you will never get see your sister again. I will make you pay for all the things you did. Prepare yourself because I will take you to the hell you put me through.”

He ended the call. With his hands shaking, he exhaled sharply. He forced himself to calm down before he began to walk out of the room.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gone to the dining room just yet. He’s still feeling the anger coursing through his body, and he didn’t want anyone to see him like that, especially you.

But when he saw your beautiful face with a smile plastered on it while chatting with Aunt Chul, the heavy emotions enveloping him suddenly dissipated.

While looking at you glowing face, he lost the bitterness and pain that he had been feeling. Your bright smile simply made the pain go away. He was certain of what he was feeling. About his fear ang pain going away.

He took a deep breath once again ang approached the two, specifically you. He leaned down and kissed you on the forehead, disregarding the watchful eyes of the elderly person nearby.

“What are you two talking about?” He asked. Aunt Chul smiled at him and seemed to chat with him like a child.

“I never knew Y/n had a bakeshop in town. If I’m not mistaken, one of the helpers bought the bread I liked there. Turns out Y/n was the owner.”

He sat beside you and held your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Yeah, her pastries and sweets are indeed famous in town.” He stated, smiling proudly.

“Y/n also told me the she hasn’t had a boyfriend. She had suitors, but didn’t accept any of them.” The woman gossiped.

“Auntie!” You playfully reprimanded the her.

Sunghoon threw a glance at you. “Oh?”

His face lit up, secretly smiling to himself. So it was likely that the guy named Jake whom your employees were referring to was you suitor. He suddenly felt relieved. He glanced at your plate that is still empty.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” He asked you as you shook your head in response.

“Not yet. I was busy chatting with auntie.”

“Tell you what, Sunghoon. Your wife was just really waiting for you to come here.” Aunt Chul remarked.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two love birds alone to enjoy your food.”

Once the two of you were left alone, Sunghoon couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face.

“So, you were waiting for me, huh?” He said teasingly.

“I wasn’t waiting for you. The conversation with Auntie just really hit the spot.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s eat.”

They ate in silence. You sat beside him quietly with your head bowed as you eat. You were like some kind of a shy teenager sitting next to her crush.

Sunghoon smiled a little as he remembered their happy memories. You were just like this back then when you two are being teased together. You would blush furiously and he just enjoy the teasing.

“I’ll go upstairs to take a shower ang get changed.” You said after he was done eating.

But before you could fully stand up, he pulled you back into the chair and bestowed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Please don’t tempt me like that.” Your eye widened and your lips parted in surprise. Your face reddened and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. You quickly stood up and rushed away from him.

Well, it was useless since no matter what you do, you were already his. Nothing could ever separate you from him, not even your brother.

Sunghoon’s smile faded, and his eyes grew cold.

You would be forever his, and you had no idea of what the future lies ahead of you.

[magicaldestinyharmony]

In Life and in Death

male!knight x female!count's daughter!reader part 1

CW: mentions of murder, blood and corpses

A/N: check the end for a full one

[Part 2]

Death. Death is when your lungs stop inflating with oxygen, when your heart slowly comes to a stop and when your vision slowly fades to black. Some people find death scary and a creepy affair. Others welcome death and embrace it, leaving the world with a smile on their face. Some fall in between or have no opinion at all. However, two people have different opinions. If you ask the fifth daughter of Count Balcom, she'll tell you that it's an annoying event and that she wished it would end. If you ask Lucca Puhlavan, a commoner referred to as the Divine Warrior, he'll tell you that he hates it because it takes his loved ones away.

These two souls have similar perceptions of death. This is a story about a woman who is tired of dying and just wants to live and about a man who has sworn to get revenge on the people who robbed him of a peaceful life with his family.

Let the story begin.

You harshly grip the window sill, turning the tips of your fingers white. You shudder at the scene below you. Corpses line the front lawn and blood flows everywhere. You hear screams, yells and pleas for mercy from the occupants of the once-glamorous mansion outside your room. You shake your head at the sight and turn around. Determined, you make your way to the drawers against the wall of your moonlit room. You unlock one and grab the blue stone glimmering in the faint light. It's called the Returner's Stone. You hold it up to admire it. It's a pretty gem. It's round in shape and sparkles with a beautiful blue light. Once consumed, it allows the consumer to travel back in time. It can only be used once. Thud, thud. You freeze at the sound of footsteps sounding in front of your room. So he came. You think. You don't turn around. Even when the chilling creek of the door being opened echoes through the room, even when you hear the tip of a sword drag across the wooden floor even when the shadow of a man falls on you, “Are you the fifth daughter of Count Balcom?” he asks.

You know the question is rhetorical yet you still turn around and answer, “No. I think you have the wrong person.”

The man in front of you scoffs and you take the time to look him over. His navy blue clothes are soaked with blood. His sword hangs from his right hand dripping with the crimson liquid. His black cape falls over his shoulders. His silver hair catches the moonlight making it seem to shine. You pore into the depths of his grey eyes. You shiver at his gaze. It's cold yet empty. You're reminded of the 15-year-old boy your father brought 10 years ago. You were told he was killed. Murdered in one of the hunts, your father liked to organize. You're not sure how he's alive right now. You stop before you can sink more into your thoughts. Stop it! This isn't the time for these thoughts! “Spare me!” You suddenly blurt out.

Lucca (You think that's the name that was mentioned in the newspapers) immediately responds, “No.”

You grimace. There was no hesitation in his voice. You grip the Returner's Stone tighter and ask, “If-if I saved you and prevented that ‘incident’ would you spare me?”

The tall figure in front of you lets his head fall back and laughs, “No. The only way I would spare you is if you drain all of the Balcom blood from your body. Only then would you be spared.”

You flinch at his creepy laugh and cold gaze. Suddenly, Lucca raises his sword, obviously meaning to strike you down. Adrenaline kicks and you shove the sparkling blue Returner's Stone in your mouth and swallow. You suck in a breath at the sudden pain in your chest. Lucca falters and hesitates. Yet before he could swing his sword and complete his revenge you fall to the floor in agony, clutching your chest. The last thing you remember is the black boots of your would-be murderer filling your fading vision.

A/N: this is heavily (and I mean heavily) inspired by the manhwa Even if the Villain’s Daughter Regresses. It’s a good read but the ml is kind of annoying. When I was writing this it kinda felt awkward to switch from 3rd person to 2nd person. Should I keep it in 2nd person or switch to 3rd? Also, should I keep it as an ‘x reader’ or make an oc? What do you guys think? Let me know by dropping a comment!

[igotanidea]

What is wrong with you!? : AK!Jason Todd x reader

Just a little something to outline how i see this verse going. Suggestions/requests/feedback is highly appreciated.

WARNINGS: angst, SMUT minors DNI, probably bit of OOC

***

He was strong enough to snap her body in two if he wanted.

To break her neck.

To choke her.

To hurt her.

But somehow in his crazy, washed brain, he knew he needed her. And in some messed up, freaked out, impaired way he felt for her.

Not only because she knew what he’s been through, but because it was also so easy to dump all his frustration into her.

He failed in his mission to kill Batman?

Rough sex

His militia was questioning his abilities to lead?

Blowing steam off while pounding into her.

Did he love her?

Yes.

No.

Honestly, what is love? He lost the meaning of this word a long time ago. What he felt for her was like what the owner feels for a pet. Some kind of allegiance. Sure, he would feel some sort of emptiness if someone were to take her away and would probably kill that person off while getting his revenge, but it was nothing more than that.

Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

He was not Robin anymore and his childish infatuation for her surely turned into something more animalistic. She was at his mercy.

Just like right now.

There were some disturbances in the force and it made him angry. Angry enough to grab her from the tech room where she was working and drag her into his own bed, stripping off his armor and clothes, doing the same to her, pressing her to the mattress with all the brute strength he had.  

“Jace…..” she writhed underneath him, feeling him kiss her body with the animalistic urgency, biting, scratching and squeezing. All of her body, except her mouth. He avoided that like a plague. He didn’t need intimacy, closeness and all that bullshit. She was just a playtoy for him. The same way she was for Harley back in the days. The same way he was for Joker. “Please….” A single tear flew down her cheek.

“Shut up.” He hissed, entering her without any prep or warning, just with one push. And it hurt like hell, even after all this time she was kept in Arkham like a prisoner. Well, he was big after all. Her poor body should have been used to all kind of torture by now, but the truth was far from that. And Jason made sure she stayed tight for him. “Just shut the fuck up and take what I give you.” Jason added, putting a hand on her mouth to muffle the scream she dared to let out.

“Jace….” She moaned, not sure if it was pleasure or pain. The fact was that she might have developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome.  She knew him when he was Robin. She loved him when he was Robin and in the back of her head she had this crazy scenario that if she could only comply with his action and commands he would come back to her. Love her back. Love her again.

Poor little thing thought she could save him from himself.

She believed that she could be the one to see and have the real Jason, not the Arkham Knight. But the more she tried, the more she failed. “Baby….” She writhed, one of her hand reaching for his chest and shoulder, trying to touch him, to feel his skin against her, to ground herself.

Mistake.

She wasn’t appalled or disgusted by marks Joker left on him.

He was.

“Get your hands off me!” he shouted and grabbed her tiny wrist in his ironclad grip, leaving bruises and making her whimper in pain. She should have known better. He hated his body, all those scars and imperfections. He hated being reminded of the past tortures and rough treatment and her touch, even if it was so loving and tender did just that. “You little whore!”

“I’m sorry.” She cried out “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…..”

“Just shut up!” he yelled picking up the pace, pounding into her like she was nothing more than a piece of meat. He did not care about her silent begging, pleading and whines. If anything, having such sense of control only spur him on. “I know you like it, don’t you? Being treated like a slut you are? Hm? Y/N? Answer me!”

“Jace…..” she begged, squirming and trying to free her hands, which were now pinned above her head “I….I…..” he was rough, brutal even, but he never failed to bring her pleasure, by some twisted accident igniting the fire inside her and her body slowly started to take over making her unable to form any coherent though, settling on arching her back, whining and silently begging him to not stop while losing her breath.  

“So cock drunk, aren’t you?” he groaned, pushing her body back to the bed harshly, one hand still pinning her hands to the mattress, the other gripping her hip, pushing into her more, harder, faster. “So fucking stupid you can’t even answer one question?”

“I….. ah! Please…..” she whined throwing her head back, exposing the soft flesh of her throat.

“Oh, no, you don’t get to cum. You’re here to serve me, remember? Not the other way round.”

“please…. Jay, please…. I’m so….. “ she gulped awkwardly. She shouldn’t even think about saying it, but it just slipped past her lips “so close. So good. You’re so good. God, Jason, please, please, let me. “

“No.” he smirked vindictively grabbing her throat, cutting the air supply and watching her struggling to breathe. He himself was so close to cumming now.

Finally, with just one more thrust he came inside her, letting out groans and animalistic sounds. But not words. He felt good with her, but it wasn’t like he was going to admit it.

And this time she got lucky since she managed to orgasm with him.

It happened from time to time, not that he cared at all.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He pulled out, immediately reaching for his pants ready to go back to his duties.

“Don’t go.” She cried out, pulling herself up, her blurry eyes and tear stained face making him stop for a second. What the fuck was wrong with her? He treated her like nothing and she still gave him that loving gaze? Why? She was supposed to break, to let go of all her hopes and fantasies filled with happy future with him and yet, all his actions did nothing to make her do that.  “Please, don’t leave me.” She begged, her body shaking, clearly getting into the subdrop phase. She needed aftercare, even the slightest aspect of it. Her entire posture, her curved, trembling lips, the stain from the tears on her cheek.

She was so fragile and vulnerable.

She was so pathetic.  

Fuck!

Those were the times when something in him broke. He might have been brainwashed to hate batman and everything connected to him, his freaking assistant included, but it was y/n. His friend, his first love (and most probably last, since he didn’t have much opportunities to meet girls). He wanted to hold her. She’s been through enough. But he couldn’t break. And even her sad eyes and extended shaking arms were not enough to make him change his mind.

“Clean yourself up.” He muttered “you’re dripping.”

And then he moved towards the adjacent bathroom. He needed a moment for himself. To collect and control every stupid emotion bursting inside him. The thin walls however did nothing to muffle the sobbing and crying of Y/N, who was shaking on the bed, silently calling his name, begging for attention like a little child. Even after all he’s done he was crying for him, wanting his touch and hugs and care and attention.

Fuck, he couldn’t go soft.

But it was painful to hear her like this.

To see her broken. By him. By the only person she wanted and need.

Fuck, she was making him soft.

He yelled in frustration and punched the mirror.

Hard. Hard enough to break it into little pieces that fell to the ground and hurt his knuckles.

The sound clearly scared her, since in a second she appeared in the bathroom door, watching him bleed to the floor. Wearing only her shirt and panties since it was all she could grab in a hurry to check on him.

Fucking check if he was all right.

“what are you staring at?!” he yelled turning towards her. Her eyes wide in fear, her lips trembling, her body shaking but she was so fucking beautiful like this. Just like in the other life, before Harley left her fingerprints on Y/N.

“I… I …..” she stuttered “you’re hurt.”

“Yeah, so what? It’s not like I haven’t been before.” He shrugged, shoving her away, trying to move past her.

“Let me help you.” she whispered, lifting her hand trying to reach him, but quickly realizing how much of a mistake it would be. Again. “Let me patch you up.”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t want you to bleed. I don’t want to see you like this. Please, Jason, let me…. Let me help you.” she mumbled looking at the ground, too shy and scared of another punishment for even suggesting something like that .

Jason couldn’t comprehend it.

How was it possible that she wasn’t completely broken like him?

What the fuck was wrong with her?!

“Why do you care?!” he yelled in frustration, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her into the wall, a little squeal escaping her lips in the process. “Why?” he grabbed her chin making her look at him

“You know why…..” she sobbed

“don’t you dare saying it!”

“I…. I won’t….. I won’t, I promise. Please…. It hurts.” He let her go, preventing her from falling to the ground. “Let me….”

“Grab the kit. Just do your job. And do it silently. I don’t want any other stupid words coming out of your mouth, you hear me?”

She nodded and without a sound sat him on the bed taking a spot next to him. Her skillful, soft hands patching him up quicker than anyone else ever could. Years of practice as Wayne assistant (i.e. Batman’s helper).

“thank you” he whispered when she was done, not looking at her. She just nodded again, smiled lightly through the tears and laid down on the bed, not daring to hope for anything. Not anymore. And Jason was not going to give her anything, apart from throwing her a blanket so she could cover herself. And then he left, leaving her in the dark, still unable to figure out what was wrong with her.

[storiesaplenty]

A request if you will ... What if Armando meets this bubbly person who got on his nerves. her eyes always lightened up every time she was in his presence, she fell first and he fell harder. Straight concrete. The way she looked at him, the way his body responds to her. Even if he had a hard time showing it, his eyes said different things. It wasn't always love on his end because he was so focused on revenge for his mom. She put the pieces together that his mother was lying. He pushed her away but she was always there even if he didn't know

He was her weakness.

Bad Boys Masterlist

My Weakness

Armando Aretas x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: mentions Armando killing. His past crimes but it is just pure fluff.

Requested by anonymous. I hope you like it

WC : 1026

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Summary: Armando met you while planning to take down Mike Lowrey, as you are a waitress at a small diner. After seeing his bike on the news, you confront him, trying to convince him not to do this, but he didn't listen. Not until it was too late.

I kept my head down, making sure that my hat was covering my face, as well as the the sun glasses.

It was a sunny day as I stood outside her job.

I could see her smiling at the customers as she took their orders.

I still remember when I first met her.

It was at this very diner.

I became a regular here and she was my regular waitress.

She asked me for my name, and because I already knew hers, I figured I should tell her mine.

I would see the way how she would look at me, her eyes would light up when I would walk through the doors, the bell signalling that a customer has come in.

I would see the way how she would make sure I would sit in her section, and she would be all over me.

My cup was never empty, she would constantly tell me that my meal was on her.

I tried to ignore the way how my stomach would flutter when I would see her walking towards me.

Or when she would say my name, and knew exactly how I liked my coffee.

But I was in town for a reason, and I did not need to be distracted by someone who I would never see again.

But when I shot Mike that night, she seemed to know it was my bike, when the video I took was all over the news.

I was sitting in my usual booth, eating my food when I saw a shadow next to me.

I looked over and saw it was her.

She was staring at me, with a look I have never seen before on her face.

At the time, I didn't realise it was disappointment.

"What are you looking at?" I muttered under my breath.

"I know it was you Armando."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I went back to scrolling through my phone, trying to ignore the way how my heart was trying to beat out my chest.

She sat across from me in the booth, and I noticed she wasn't wearing her uniform, so she must not be working.

"You told me you were in town to help your mom with something. Armando, please don't do this." She reached across the table to grab my hand that was placed on the table.

I moved my hand back, just out of her reach.

"Stay out of this." I stood up, and threw some bills on the table to cover my tab.

She followed me outside.

"Armando, you are better than this. She is just using you. Please stop before anyone else gets hurt."

I stopped walking and turned around to face her.

"If you know what is good for you, stay the fuck away from me." I snarled through gritted teeth.

"You don't mean that." She said, seeing right through me, but I was already walking around from her.

Believing I would never see her again.

◆

But as I spent time in jail, she was the only person who I thought about.

Not even my mother and how she lied to me for years.

Not even the man, who is my actually father, Mike Lowrey.

It was just her.

I thought about writing to her.

Sending a letter to the dinner and telling her how she was right, and maybe if I had the guts, I would tell her how I feel about her.

Then all that shit went down with Mike and Marcus, and now I am on the run.

But I found myself going back to that same diner, day after day, watching her.

I could see that her smile never reached her eyes like before.

She wasn't as bubbly as she was before.

But I had to move on, as I knew I would be caught if I stayed here much longer.

◆

I waited until the end of her shift, and watched from across the way to see when she would leave.

As expected, she walked out the front door at 8:05, just like every time she works.

She didn't live far from her work, only a few blocks, so she walks.

I thought I was staying far back enough, but she must have known she was being followed.

She turned around to look at me, and she was going to say something as an angry look came over her face, but I took of my sunglasses and her eyes got real wide.

She whispered my name and covered her mouth, not believing it was me.

I took a few steps towards her, trying gauge her reaction to me getting closer, but she ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me.

I wrapped my arms around her, not believing that she didn't run away in terror.

"Armando." She said as she cupped my cheek with her hand.

"I should have listened to you." Was all I said as I leaned into her hand, turning my head slightly to kiss her palm.

"Yes, you should have." She said, smiling at me.

"I knew you didn't want to do this. Not really. I could see with the way how you would look at me."

"Even when I told you to leave me the fuck alone?" I still remember the hurt that came over her face.

"Yes, even then. Your face said one thing, but your eyes Armando, they always said another."

I couldn't stop myself.

I kissed her, and she kissed me back even harder.

I pulled her closer to me, not wanting this to ever end, but then someone walked by saying that we should get a room.

"Shit, your still on the run. Let's go to my place."

She held held my hand, as the two of us walked through the crowd, with my head down and the sunglasses back on.

From time to time, I would see her look back at me, and she would be smiling at me.

I kept my face neutral, but she knew how I was feeling.

She knew me and she knew she would be forever my weakness as I am hers.

[theabysss]

Salvation

pairing: sagau!Dottore x Reader

summary: When you die, the whole world collapses for Dottore, but maybe there is still hope?

warnings/tags: gn!Reader, religious + cult themes, description of the execution, description of injuries.

word count: 2.7 k~

note: I'm here again after all this time. (ーー;)ノ Brought you some Dottore, enjoy. Maybe there will be a second part, but I don't promise anything.

Scarlet blood spurts out and a severed head rolls down. Empty eye sockets are directed to the heavens, a happy smile frozen on your face, anticipating the end of torment, now sealed on your face with an eternal mask. Dottore feels his fingertips go numb, he stares blankly at your head and hair, matted with blood. The mechanical heart, which has never failed before, either skips beats or beats quickly.

His ears feel like they are filled with cotton and he hears no sound, the emptiness fills his heart drop by drop, leaving no space for anything else. What is this feeling called? Dottore tries to distract himself from the picture before his eyes and frantically tries to remember the right word, but his thoughts move slowly like flies stuck in honey. A flash of insight and a bitter taste appears in his mouth. Despair. A drop of blood runs down his chin; he didn’t notice when he bit his lip with his teeth. It seems that only ten seconds have passed since the execution, but to Dottore they seem like an eternity.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices tears running down the Tsaritsa’s face. There is no trace left of her usually cold personality. The harbingers look no better, for each of them there has long been no one left more important than you, and to lose you like that was terrible. More painful than the worst wound they received in life.

The one whom the archons call the Creator begins their speech with an unpleasant grin, full of self-satisfaction. They talks about the impostor and how proud they are of their dear followers for capturing you for him. He is sick of looking at the other archons; the proud appearance of Morax and the other archons makes him rage. It spreads like hot lava from the heart to the hands, convulsively clenching in impatience, the desire to strangle this ancient reptile overwhelms Dottore.

Your most loyal follower huh? The fool who fell for the fake sent by Celestia. He was the first to accept this abomination without doubting it even for a second. You were so different, your auras were completely different. A liar or a pathetic fool, whichever was true, Morax was disgusting.

When the fake finishes their incredibly pathetic speech, it will be their turn: Tsaritsa, the harbingers, the ordinary Fatui, they will all have to lose their lives.

Mentally, Dottore estimates the distance to the platform where Celestia’s puppet stands. Even though his delusion had been taken away just like the rest of the harbingers, that didn't mean he was going to give up. Dottore runs his tongue over teeth, checking their sharpness and squints with satisfaction, feeling the salty taste of blood appearing in his mouth. There is nothing worse than an animal driven into a corner, knowing that there is no chance of salvation, but still intending to resist.

When he is led past the platform to the guillotine, he will take the chance and take revenge. Although it would be more correct to call this the restoration of justice. You were innocent, You were their god.

When the fake solemnly spreads his hands and orders the executions to continue, the sky of Teyvat darkens, anyone could feel the fury of the elements. Dottore exhales in amazement, drops of your blood slowly rising into the air and changing their color from red to gold. The crackling of electricity, the smell of burning, strong gusts of wind, the temperature drops lower every second, plants are spreading across the entire area, bright and screaming about their toxicity, the earth trembles underfoot, on the horizon he can see the sea rising in waves, each of which is higher than the previous ones, threatening to flood the whole harbor.

The fake looks at what is happening in shock, but does not have time to say a single word. Lightning falls from the sky and strikes Celestia's puppet, one after the other in an endless stream, they follow each other. Dottore's heart is filled with gloomy triumph and at the same time unbearable bitterness. If Teyvat could have intervened directly, why didn’t he save you, their Creator? Why didn't the world prevent your death? Or was it your desire to reveal the truth only when nothing will it be impossible to fix it, leaving them all with eternal regret?

When the lightning stops falling from the sky, the fake turns into a smoking piece of charred flesh. The Archons look in surprise at the one they praised as the Creator, understanding slowly appears on their faces. One by one they helplessly turn their heads towards your body. Morax is the first to fall to his knees in front of your head, Dottore sees how his fingers tremble as he hesitates to touch your blood-stained cheek.

Tsaritsa looks contemptuously at each of these traitors. Dottore knows that now she would with great pleasure impale each of the archons on ice spikes if only the shackles did not block her powers.

In a half-strangled voice, Morax orders the Millelith to release all of them.

After being released, Dottore and the rest of the harbingers follow Tsaritsa as she goes to the archons and… your body. Standing next to it is unbearably painful, his eyes cling to every scratch on your face, his heart falls into a cold empty hole, now that he can clearly see your empty eye sockets.

As far as he knew, the Electro Archon was to blame for this; he would have broken every bone in her hands, and then lowered her into a vat of acid and watched as her flesh peeled off from the bones.

Tsaritsa's voice is cold and gloomy when she speaks to the rest of the archons.

"There is no punishment that can atone for your sin and death will not be your salvation. You will live the rest of your eternity in pain, I promise you all that."

A drop of your golden blood slowly moves in the air, Dottore follows their movement with his eyes. Was there a chance to save you, why did everything turn out that way? Why he, Tsaritsa and the other harbingers turned out to be so weak and useless? They too were sinners, those who did not save and they will bear this sin until the end of their lives.

Dottore could still feel the remnants of your aura, faintly, but he could, and he closed his eyes, absorbing this feeling, which was soon to dissipate. Or not? Dottore's eyes widened, an arrow of hope piercing his heart. Your spirit was still here, weak, fading, still existing, attached to drops of golden blood.

"The Creator has not left us yet, his spirit is still here."

The face of Tsaritsa and the other archons lit up with faint hope, their gazes were directed at him, all-consuming, unwavering attention emanated from them, however, such a gaze was directed at Dottore from everyone who was present in the square.

"Collect all the blood, not a single drop should be lost; the soul of the Creator is attached to it. I can try to save Their Grace, but we must act quickly before their spirit dissipates."

Dottore is determined. He will succeed, he cannot fail, he will not make mistakes, just not in such an important matter as this. Despite the mental pep talk he gave himself, Dottore's palms become treacherously cold and he begins to nervously tap a rhythm with his fingers on his thigh.

He needed a workplace, his laboratories would be ideal, but he was not sure that your spirit would survive the trip to Snezhnaya. He had to act quickly, Dottore could feel the grains of time slipping through his fingers.

When he and the clones find themselves in the silence of the temporary laboratory provided by Qixing, Dottore allows himself only one nervous sigh before taking control of his emotions. The time for all the emotions will come later, when he successfully returns life to you.

He begins to give instructions to the clones, who are preparing everything necessary for Dottore's most important work. It’s good that he managed to drive out all the traitors of the archons and other personalities who tried to be present, even Tsaritsa, nothing should distract him, the price of a mistake is too great.

The punishment of the archons was temporarily postponed, Tsaritsa said that when you become alive again, you yourself will determine the punishment for these traitors. It's when, not if. Now the whole seven had to destroy Celestia, which had committed the unforgivable.

Your headless body lying on the operating table looked foreign, wrong of all places, you should never have ended up here. You should have enjoyed the balls held in your honor, the gifts offered to you by your followers.

To begin with, it was worth understanding whether it made sense to try to restore your human shell or was it already in a completely unusable state? A severed head is a big obstacle to the restoration of your body, but Dottore had no guarantee that your soul could take root in a synthetic body, and the ability to create it in a short time, so there was only one possibility left. It was necessary to attach your head back to the body, check the body for damage to internal organs and, if there were any, heal them. Before you begin the process of returning your soul to the mortal coil.

The test results showed, although not the most comforting results, but everything was not so bad, of course, with the exception of the severed head. General severe exhaustion of the body, which will be corrected by the correct diet after your resurrection, which will definitely be successful. It couldn't fail. After all, if he failed, would there be any point in his existence, in the existence of nations, in Teyvat? Without you, nothing made sense.

Dottore shakes his head, driving away bad thoughts and returns to work. In order for the head to subsequently work as it should, each nerve and blood vessel had to be connected correctly. Painstaking work that requires a lot of patience, well, Dottore never complained about its lack.

Hour after hour, the clock ticked peacefully in the background, measuring time, while Dottore and his clones painstakingly put everything back together as it was originally. The last batch of stitches signals the end of such a complex operation. The muscles of his back ached in protest against the same position for hours. Dottore looked at his work satisfactorily, touching the stitches and then immediately pursed his lips in regret. This is not how it was supposed to be. He walked over to the table and gave himself an injection that instantly banished any fatigue and made his mind crystal clear again. In a day he will definitely feel very bad when the kickback comes, but you were definitely worth it. In fact, if he were now offered to give his life in exchange for yours, he would agree without hesitation.

It was time to start the second stage, it was necessary to do something with your eyes. Unfortunately, all he could offer you now were temporary prosthetics, not as advanced as those he and the clones used. He will definitely replace them later with better ones.

One of the many things he regretted was that he didn't get to see your eyes, they should have been gorgeous. In legends they were described as unearthly, as if entire constellations and the endless night sky were reflected in them.

As gently as possible, Dottore cleaned your eye holes from dirt and blood, carefully stretched the wires to the back lobe of the brain, to which the optic nerves are attached, and finally inserted the prostheses. Dentures you should never have. The color looked inappropriate, too artificial, alien, wrong, Dottore swallowed dryly. He sits down on a chair nearby and wearily hides his face in his hands. Fatigue, not physical, but moral, covers him in a wave and the heaviness in his chest does not allow him to breathe. He knows that it will only disappear when you take your breath and your heart beats again.

Dottore was never particularly religious in his youth, he was interested in the story of the creation of the world and definitely admired you, but there was never any real reverence in his feelings then. Everything gradually began to change when he joined Fatui. Every year he learned more and more about you and his devotion to you only grew, gradually completely capturing his heart until there was nothing left in him except you.

All the humanity that was in him, no matter how little it was, was intended only for you. All his achievements were dedicated to you. He all belonged to you, only you. And at the moment there was nothing he could want more than to see you alive. The same desire burned with a passionate flame in the eyes of his clones standing nearby.

The last stage is the most important. Dottore carefully inserts a needle into your vein and begins to pour your blood back into your body. He feels your spirit waver, as if you doesn’t want to return.

He looks over your body; bright blue veins stand out on your pale skin, there are various bruises and scratches on your body, which he, of course, treated, but to his regret the healing was not instantaneous. This picture breaks him into fragments, leaving a cold emptiness instead of his mechanical heart, his inability to correct what happened. Was there any point in all his knowledge that he had been collecting for centuries if now it was almost completely useless at the most important moment of his life. All that Dottore can do now is pray, pray to you, to the elements, to Teyvat. Please come back, please, please, please…

He knew it was a selfish desire, this world wasn't worthy of you, they weren't worthy of you, not after what happened. But hope, a feeling that had not come to him for a very long time since the time of the academy, flared up in his soul. The last drops of blood poured back into your body and deathly silence fell in the laboratory. Those few seconds when nothing happened seemed like an eternity, frightening, cold, hopeless to Dottore. The claws of the unknown tore his heart apart, did he succeed? Would you like to return?

Your trembling breath and wide-open eyes bring Dottore into a state close to euphoric. You were alive again, relief fills him and makes him dizzy with happiness. He feels something wet rolling down his cheek and wipes it away in confusion. A tear. A lot of time had passed since the last time he cried, and he had definitely never had tears of happiness until that moment. Well, you always made him feel an unusual amount of different emotions.

When you go into a coughing fit, one of the clones instantly brings you a mug of water and looks at your face with concern. You take a few greedy sips, and then turn your confused gaze on him, gradually filling with fear. Dottore's heart clenches unpleasantly, this is not how you were supposed to look at him. Not what he wants and not how it should be.

You try to say something, but again break into a cough. Dottore instantly approaches, he wants… to console you, to assure you that you are safe, but the words lie like dead weight on his tongue. He carefully reaches out to your hand, but freezes millimeters from your skin. He felt confused, useless. You will probably be uncomfortable with the touches of a sinner like him.

You carefully peer into his face, by the way your gaze moves along the features of his face, it seems to him that you are looking for an answer to some very important question for you. And after a few moments, the answer seems to satisfy you, a relieved sigh escapes your lips and you reach out with your hand to his, carefully placing your hand in his.

Dottore swallows dryly, warmth rising up his arm from where you touch.

"Everything will be fine, Your Grace. Now everything will be fine, I promise."

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Sweet Revenge | Tom (The Party) x fem!reader

Summary: Tom is acting strange and it doesn't take long for a friend to notice while at a party celebrating their mutual friend's political victory. When she steps in to question him about it, she learns more than she thought she would... but it makes their ride in the elevator a little more interesting.

Warnings: Infidelity (from multiple characters), drug use, dubious consent, semi-public sex, smut, p in v, guns, mentions of attempted murder, revenge.

word count: 3386k

Nothing Matters- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

Personal Jesus- Depeche Mode 🎵

Note: Sorry I disappeared for so long! I was dealing with some things and had to put Cillian to the side. I've missed this awesome community! I hope you all still remember me lol.

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

She heard about the election on the news that afternoon. Saying that she was ecstatic was an understatement. In fact, the moment she heard that Janet won (as she assumed she would) she dressed quickly and arrived at the celebratory party early. She fixed the bunched up fabric on her thigh and scratched an itch beneath the collar around her neck. She raised her fist to knock on the door when the elevator doors pinged and she turned. Tom stumbled out of the elevator, slightly disheveled and sweaty. When he noticed her he ran his hand through his hair and sniffed loudly, his eyes rolling over to meet hers. 

“Tom?” She smiled, her tone friendly and soft. Her eyes traveled up his body, dressed in a dark tailored suit. 

Tom cleared his throat before responding, strangely breathless. “Hello.” He looked behind him at the empty elevator and debated going back inside. The doors slid closed and he turned back dejectedly like a child caught in a crime. 

“You’re here early too,” she rubbed the top of her shoe down her leg, an anxious gesture. 

“Right, right… it's early. Maybe I should come back later.” He muttered beneath his breath and jabbed at the elevator call button. 

“I’m sure it's alright. I’m here early too,” she studied his nervous posture and the way his eyes darted between the hallway’s walls, anywhere but her face. “Where’s Marianne?” 

His face twitched at the mention of his wife’s name. His shirt was sticky against his skin and he wanted to leave. This was a mistake. 

“She’s coming later, told me to go ahead.” He sniffed loudly again and jerked his finger at the door behind her. “Have you already knocked?” His dark hair fell into his eyes where crow’s feet gathered. 

“No, I was just about to.” 

The elevator door opened with a second ping. Tom looked at the open doors and back to her. “Fuck all,” he cursed beneath his breath and met her at the door to Janet’s apartment. She resisted the urge to smell him, though his cologne wandered easily the short distance to her nose (notes of bergamot and spice). 

“Are you alright, Tom?” She asked cautiously and watched as his left hand flexed. He clenched his jaw and forced out a laugh. 

“Never better,” he rang the doorbell and waited anxiously as his heart raced in his chest. Janet opened the door and greeted them with overwhelming excitement. Tom’s resolve weakened and he struggled to remain level headed as he greeted his wife’s friend. This was not how it was originally supposed to go but he still had time… 

Janet invited them into the apartment and talked with her as Tom excused himself with a shaky smile. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he removed his jacket and checked the holsters on either side of his body, draped over his shoulders. Sweat pooled on his shirt and he fanned his hands over it, hoping it would dry. 

The girl watched the bathroom door while keeping a polite smile on her face for Janet who was retelling the events of the day. Loud music erupted from the speakers in the living room and she jumped, her hair standing on end for a brief moment. 

“That’s Bill, will you excuse me for a moment?” Janet wiped her hands on the front of her apron and disappeared into the next room. Her conversation with her husband was muffled by the music. She looked once again at the bathroom door and wiped her clammy hands on her forearms. There was something different about Tom and it irked her, not knowing what was going on. She was closest in age to Tom and Marianne and considered them her friends, though she didn’t actually know them well. She knew, however, that Tom had a problem with coke, all of the finance boys did. His attitude was stranger than usual, more paranoid and jumpy. The music quieted and Janet returned, humming happily to herself. As soon as she did, the doorbell rang and she spun around, clapping her hands excitedly. 

Tom splashed his face with cold water and let it run down his neck, far below his collar. He shivered beneath the water’s temperature and looked up into the medicine cabinet’s mirror. He imagined Bill in the next room, smugly splayed out in his old recliner. He imagined how good it would feel to shoot him, to get revenge against the man that defiled his wife. His wife. Anger flashed in his eyes and he bit down on the sleeve of his suit jacket, screaming silently into the fabric. He heard the doorbell ring and jumped, his heart dropped painfully into his stomach. He checked the gun in his holster for the fiftieth time that day, counting the round of bullets in the chamber. He waited until the new guests moved further into the apartment before leaving the bathroom. 

The girl watched Tom leave the bathroom and pause just before the door frame into the living room. His stomach quivered beneath his dress shirt as he breathed heavily. When she noticed him spin his wedding around his finger in an anxious instinct, she averted her eyes and flushed. He spun right around and went back into the bathroom. She followed him with her eyes, brows furrowed in extreme distress. 

Tom closed the door again and rubbed his face with his shaking hands. He rummaged through his pockets and retrieved a vial of white powder (coke… obvi). Yes, he had a problem. Obviously. Tom wiped the edge of the sink clean with his elbow and shook powder from the vial onto the surface. He arranged the powder in a line and did the line, shaking his head and sitting back against the rim of the bathtub. A smudge of powder stayed on his upper lip, providing evidence of what he’d done. He knocked his knuckles against the soft sides of his head and tried to regain control. He just needed to act normal, go into the living room and be fucking normal. He wiped away the traces of coke on the sink and fixed his hair in the mirror, trying to slick the greased strands back over his head. 

The girl twirled the cord of her necklace around her finger, her eyes stuck on the bathroom door. She jumped again when the door slammed open and Tom stumbled out, his pupils dilated and his eyes crazed. Tom bounded for the doorway into the living room and stopped abruptly. He walked back and forth, muttering beneath his breath as he did. 

“Tom?” She approached him carefully. Her voice startled him from his erratic state. He licked his lips nervously. 

“I forgot something in my car,” Tom blurted out and spun around a last time, walking quickly to the car. She followed him immediately, her eyes trained on the width of his shoulders. 

“I’ll go with you,” she insisted with a backwards glance at the living room, loud with guests. Tom didn’t respond as he made wide strides to the elevator doors. His breath was heavy and hard as he punched the call button and looked down at her, standing at his side. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“I’m going with you.” She answered apprehensively. Tom cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. 

“You don’t need to do that,” his eyes flicked back at the apartment door. When the elevator doors opened he sighed, debating what to do. He knew better than to go back into the apartment. He’d have to come back another time. She followed him into the elevator and pressed the lobby button for him, her ears growing hot. Tom coughed into his closed fist and started to sweat as the doors closed. 

“Is everything alright, Tom?” She asked him directly as the doors closed and the elevator sunk below the floor. 

“Fine. Fine.” He avoided eye contact and put his hands on his hips, the crotch of his pants bunching around his thighs. He looked up at the floor numbers flashing across the screen above the doors. 

“You don’t seem fine, Tom. What the hell were you doing in there just now?” She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. Tom groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ve just had a long day.”

“Just one?” She asked him with a grunt. “You look like you haven’t slept in days… plural.” 

“Bitch.” Tom snapped and crossed his arms, mirroring her. 

The elevator jolted suddenly and the lights flickered. They stopped their bickering for a moment. She noticed the floor number had stopped at three. The buttons for each floor flashed across the board. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Tom repeated frustratedly and jabbed at the buttons. 

“Stop, you’ll make it worse.” She slapped his hands away and he groaned, resting his head against the wall of the elevator. 

“It’s stuck,” he mumbled and she nodded, her lips falling into a nervous frown. 

“Yes, it appears so.” She studied the buttons and jabbed at the one labeled “call.” 

Hello? The operator answered after a few seconds. 

“Hello, hi. We’re stuck in the elevator.”

I’ll call the fire department and maintenance. There might be a delay due to the parade traffic but we should have you out soon. Call again if anything happens.

“Damn, it sounds like we’ll be in here for a while.” 

“Fuck, just my fucking luck.” 

“You say fuck a lot,” she laughed off some of her discomfort. 

“Fuck you,” Tom added disheartedly. 

She moved back into a corner of the elevator and watched as Tom leaned into the wall, his breath fogging up the gold aluminum wall. 

“You might as well tell me what it is, now that we’ll be here for a while.” She looked down at her shoes and cleared her throat. “Just tell me,” she urged him but Tom only rolled his eyes, the reflection of it projected back at her. 

“Is it the coke?” She tried and Tom laughed. 

“You think I’m like this because of the coke?”

“You’re not giving me any other reason.” She shrugged and Tom turned to face her. 

“That’s not the reason.” 

“You have some of it left above your lip there,” she gestured to her top lip and Tom wiped his mouth quickly with his sleeve.

Tom sighed and slid down the wall into a crouching position, his hands clasped together in front of his face. He exhaled deeply and looked at the opposite wall, away from her. 

“I found out the other day that Marianne has been cheating on me.” His voice wavered as he spoke. 

“What?” She gasped softly. 

He twisted the wedding ring on his finger and chuckled darkly. 

“It’s been going on for months.” 

“Do you know who they are? The person that she’s cheating with?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed and her heart beating quickly. 

“Yes,” he answered again with a chuckle, his voice pained. “She’s been fucking Bill.” 

“Bill?!” She slapped a hand across her mouth. “Her advisor? Bill’s cheating on Janet? What the fuck?!” The words all fell out of her mouth. Tom shook his head and with one angry movement chucked his wedding ring across the elevator at the opposite wall. The small piece of metal bounced off the wall with a sharp noise and settled between them on the floor. 

“So you were going to confront him?” She asked, everything coming together. 

He nodded and without warning, started to sob. She immediately knelt beside Tom and patted his back awkwardly. Tom, rather comedically, collapsed into her chest, his hands grappling at her sides. Her heart began to race as his face inched closer to her breast. Her hands shaked as she combed his hair (heavy with product) out of his eyes. 

“He stole my wife! He stole my wife,” he cried against her chest. 

“I’m sorry, Tom. I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she carded her fingers through his hair. The texture of his warm skin beneath her fingertips distracted her. The smell of his expensive cologne and hair product flooded her system. She resisted the urge to lick the scent from his neck, taut with tendons. Geez, she was a creep. Tom’s baby-like tears stained her shirt and made the material stick to the skin below. 

“Does Marianne know that you know?” She tried to focus herself back on the situation. 

“No, I saw it on her phone,” he hiccuped pitifully. “They’ve been fucking in my bed, our bed!” 

She shushed him softly as he started to cry again. His manic sobs racked his thick and muscular body. 

“Are you going to divorce her?” She whispered and Tom shook his head softly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

Tom pulled away and laid his head back against the elevator wall. She could make out all of the freckles and sun spots across his high cheekbones. She sighed as she reached a hand to his face and swept a tear away from his jaw. Tom turned his clear blue eyes to her’s. His wide lips quivered slightly as he panted from all of his emotions. 

“What she and Bill did is inexcusable, Tom. She doesn’t deserve you if she thinks this casually unfaithful behavior is ok.” She was on her knees now, her thighs flexed beneath her dress. 

Tom’s eye traveled up her body, starting on her fleshy thighs. She watched him curiously. Was he doing what she thought he was? Was he checking her out? Tom’s hand rose from the floor beside him and moved to her knee. 

“Y/N…” he whispered pitifully. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she nearly choked on her own exhale. His thumb rubbed circles into her exposed skin. She knew that she shouldn’t but what more harm could it do? Tom wanted to get back at his wife and she wanted to be fucked by Tom. Win/win situation- no, stop it. Don’t look at me like that! It’s totally ethical. Besides, the way his body leaned into her brought about a powerful force of attraction between them. The streaks of graying hair caught the fluorescent light like plastic rhinestones. 

She leaned forward, into his mouth and exhaled softly against his lips. Tom kissed her first, capturing her lips into a harsh kiss. She kissed him back and tugged gently at the roots of his hair. He moaned excitedly around her lips. Words failed them as they kissed. Their hands spoke softly to each other, begging and asking for more. She pushed off Tom’s coat, exposing the holster strung between his shoulder blades. 

“What the fuck?” She whispered, her eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing with a fucking gun, Tom?” 

“I-I just wanted to get back at them, at him. I’m just so angry,” Tom panted emotionally, his hands shaking. She looked between him and the gun and sighed. 

“I can think of another way to get back at them that doesn’t involve this,” she pointed at the gun strapped around his shoulder. Tom looked up at her, his eyes wide as she closed the distance again. She rose on her knees so that she could be taller than him and cupped his jaw. 

“I can think of something that we should do to get back at them,” she whispered against his wide lips. Tom didn’t respond, his heart beating fast and not just because of the cocaine.

“It goes something like this,” she kissed him with hesitant pecks before settling into a deep rhythm. His hands finally started to move up her hips, grasping the edge of her waist. His breath labored against her and she allowed a shuttering moan to escape; a product of pent up energy. 

“Tom… Tom..” she muttered between kisses, her hands pulled up on his stiff white collar, urging him closer. 

“Mmhm..” Tom hummed softly and guided her onto her back, sitting up between her knees. He towered over her and panted, his hands fumbling over his fly. She pulled down her own underwear and kicked it off her ankles. Tom pulled down his pants slightly and boxer briefs, immediately freeing his cock from his pants. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer. She slid across the elevator floor and slammed against his waiting hips. She giggled nervously, her face pink. 

“Are you wet enough?” Tom asked quickly, his hand fisting his erection. His dress shirt trailed over his hands, hiding some of his actions from her view. She nodded eagerly and raised the excess of her dress, pulling the material over her upper thighs. Tom nodded breathlessly and entered her without much warning, she gasped and clenched her fists. 

Tom cursed loudly beneath his breath as he filled her up completely. Her body stretched to accommodate him and the sensation sent shivers up both of their bodies like a cold chill. Tom thrusted at a slow rhythm as he worked himself deeper inside her. She whimpered loudly and steadied herself against the hall of the elevator as she slid back and forth on the floor. 

As her body opened more and more, his thrusts became harder and faster. He leaned over her and planted his hands firmly on the floor on either side of her waist. Bringing his hips closer to her, he fucked her aggressively. Instead of dragging out his hips before each thrust, he stayed as deep as possible inside of her and thrusted farther. 

“God you’re so good,” Tom panted as his mouth fell open into a moan. His eyebrows furrowed to keep him focused. 

“Mm-Marianne is an idiot,” she whined around her words and dug her fingers into Tom’s back. Tom fucked her faster as a response, proving himself to her. 

“Fuck- take it. Take it.” He commanded and she gasped as her orgasm grew. He panted with his mouth held open, his hips thudding against her. His curses flew from his mouth in octaves that grew higher as he felt himself spilling over the edge. 

“Tommmm,” she trailed off, mumbling incoherently. He slowed down as he reached his climax so that he could see her reaction. He lowered himself closer to her and laced his fingers gently around her throat. Pulling one of her legs closer around his hip, he fucked her deeply but slow. His fingers flexed and tightened around her soft neck. He studied her closely, sweat pooling between his shoulders and the peak of his brow.

“I know, honey. I know. Marianne could never handle this but you like it when I fuck you. You’d beg me, wouldn’t you?” He whispered as his cock began to flex inside of her. She squeezed her thighs and he grunted, forcing himself through her body’s automatic resistance. She nodded and licked her lips. 

“Fuck, you feel so much better than her.” He continued to grunt, his teeth gritting. She pulled at the graying roots of his hair, her palms cradling his face. With a sharp yell, Tom finished inside her. His hips rocked against her until he had spilled everything out inside her. Their panting filled the air between them and synced into a rhythm. 

“That was fucking amazing, Tom.” She whispered, her voice weak over her racing heart. 

“Kiss me,” Tom growled. She raised her head slightly to place a kiss on his chapped lips. They kissed sweetly, until a steady beeping noise drew them away from their bodies. The elevator’s panel lit up as it was restarted. They hurriedly separated. Tom tucked in his shirt and buttoned his pants. She pulled her underwear back on and smoothed down her hair. Seconds later, the elevator doors opened to a team of mechanics. The mechanics raised their eyebrows collectively at the couple inside, their faces flushed and sweaty handprints still visible on the elevator’s walls. 

“Thank you so much,” she tried to smile normally at the men as they stumbled out of the elevator. Tom gave the mechanics one more backwards glance before they hurried for the stairwell. Slamming the door closed behind them, Tom shoved her up against the wall inside the stairwell. The sound reverberated up the cement structure, ringing in her ears. He kissed her neck, sucking parts of her flesh to make small hickeys. She sighed as she pulled his face to meet her again and kissed him, her lips pulled into a smile.

“We should do this again,” Tom mumbled darkly against her lips. She nodded and bit his bottom lip gently. 

“How about right now?”   

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

──SOULMATE [Part-1]

⪩oneshot: Soulmates are meant to be with each other, even if death do them apart.

⪩pairing: Dazai x reader

⪩a/n: soulmate au where the soulmate will feel other's pain in form of flowers blooming in the hurt area

Nothing seemed to make Dazai happy. Sure the fake mask of his personality he wore everyday could deceive others, he could fool everyone but himself, and maybe his soulmate too. Dazai viewed it like a curse. Soulmates shouldn't exist in the first place. He couldn't help but empathize and feel sad for his soulmate, for every suicidal tactic he survived, his soulmate will be somewhere, getting hurt or injured by the flowers and thorns that grew. And yet, with no sign of revenge, his soulmate never sent him a flower when he sent a bouquet of them. Human mind is weird. Should he be happy about it? He didn't knew.

You were tired. You were so tired of this life, this soulmate link that existed between you and your soulmate. Whatever his job was, how could he be so reckless. At first, you thought maybe he is still in his teen spirit dirtbag era, but it wasn't the case. For every flower that bloomed on your skin left the scars of the openings. It pained a lot at first, but you got used to it. You wanted to end this connection. It was tiring for you. As you would sob about how tough your life get, another flower would bloom open in your arms, like a lover sending his love a bouquet of flowers. You would smile a little, maybe you weren't alone in the sufferings of this world, maybe your soulmate is too, and maybe, just maybe you both could fill the emptiness in your heart with each other.

You were walking on the street returning from your job when suddenly a sharp throbbing pain arises in your forehead. Did you forget to take your medicine? Is it because of you using your phone? Are you getting heartburn? What ever the reason was, it pained so much, it felt like someone wants to burst your head open with all the forces they got. You drop on your knees, holding the pain, it hurts so much, and you didn't even know what was the cause of that. People surrounded you, calling for an ambulance, and shifting you to a hospital. The last thing you remembered were the shocking faces of people and the concerned medical team trying to talk to you. And then, you lost consciousness.

Dazai was devastated, how could chuuya shoot his head thrice? "CHUUYAAA HOW COULD YOUUUU" Dazai whined, forgetting that his soulmate existed somewhere. Maybe he was selfish, maybe people would call him a person who lacked feelings, but did it matter when the world's fate was in his hands? Chuuya did nothing but shake his head in disapproval, as both of them were on their way to walk out of the prision. Dazai whistled led all his way walking, annoying chuuya every second he got. "Can you stop being annoying?" "Come on shorthat, we have been doing this since the long time" Dazai replied, his arm around Chuuya's shoulder as they walk, "Cant believe i still have to bend my knees to get to your height".

A brief moment of silence passed when Dazai wined in pain….No it wasn't the usual physical pain he felt for the first time, it was something intense and deep, an emotion he had never felt before….it felt like his soul would ripe apart if he breathe any longer and then he felt numb.

"Are you going to just stand still? we have the world to save you know?" Chuuya remarked, rolling his eyes as he opens the door stepping outside for others to see that infact they were alive. Dazai does nothing but remained silent at his remark, before walking out the door. Suddenly he felt something on his forehead, it was a withered leaf, sticking on his forehead. Maybe it came with the wind, yeah maybe.

His soulmate had died and it was way to long gone before he could have realized.

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I kinda hate myself for asking this but can I get more of Your Personal Ghost?? Maybe a part two or just more of him in general??

.⋆｡Your Bandit｡⋆.

Brahms Heelshire x plus size reader

With the disappearance of all of your panties, some new information comes to light that isn’t as unwelcome as you thought it would be

Warnings: panty stealing, fluff, swearing, writer!reader WC: 1k

Minors DNI

Part 1

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“I swear I just did laundry.” You muttered, frustrated as you stared down at your mostly empty underwear drawer. Your panties had been disappearing at quite an alarming rate but they always ended up in your laundry hamper even if you couldn’t quite remember if you ever even wore them.

You sighed and slammed the drawer shut. Dressed only in an oversized t-shirt, you stomped your way down to the laundry room in some deluded idea that maybe the washer had somehow eaten your underwear. 

The small room in the basement of the house echoed with your aggravated curses as you dug through not only the washing machine but also the dryer and the linen closet in the corner. But nope- no panties, dirty or otherwise. 

“I give up!” You threw your hands into the air. “Whatever ghost is in this stupid fucking house, stop taking my fucking underwear! I need that shit!” You received no reply back except the house groaning as it settled. “I hate this place.”

Fishing a pair of leggings from the dryer, you tugged them on angrily as you muttered to yourself under your breath. “I’m gonna blow all my savings on fucking panties and ya know what, they’ll just go missing again. This is such bullshit.” Stomping away from the laundry room, you were dead-set on restoring your supply of undergarments and keeping it that way. No pervy ghost would get the better of you.

The wall by the front door creaked ominously as you stuffed your feet into the worn sneakers you couldn’t seem to part from. You didn’t even bother to address your haunted mansion, only stepping into the brisk morning and slamming the door shut behind you. It would be a long drive to the shops but it would give you time to plan your revenge.

——————

Your anger had dissolved to almost nothing by the time you pulled back into the driveway, getting home a lot later than you expected. It was stupid to think that the house was haunted; it was old, sure and a questionable history, no doubt. But haunted? That was idiotic at best. Yeah, you heard the ghost stories and still couldn’t find it in yourself to take down any of the creepy family portraits scattered around the eerie hallways. You were just lonely and in desperate need of some inspiration for your stagnating writing.

Your sigh was carried off on the breeze as you stepped from your car. The heat still emanating from the engine gave you a brief respite from the cold while you gathered yourself. “I’m losing my fucking mind.” The plastic bag stuffed full of brand new panties crinkled as you pulled it from the back seat, along with a well-deserved (in your opinion) bag of Chinese food from the only takeaway shop in a 50 mile radius. 

Too lost in your own head, you didn’t notice the light on in one of the empty bedrooms and the dark silhouette against the thick glass of the window. Maybe if you had, you would’ve thought better than to call out into the house as you took off your shoes. “Honey! I’m home!” 

You chuckled to yourself at your little joke, completely oblivious to the barely audible footsteps above you. The bag of panties landed with a soft thud at the foot of the stairs as you passed by it, a gentle reminder to bring them upstairs once you had your fill of bland food and plenty of wine. 

The huge shadow that darted behind the wall followed after you, far closer than it normally was though, as usual, you were ignorant to its presence. You hummed under your breath as you laid out your feast on the kitchen table. The food was now only lukewarm though you didn’t mind, the cheap bottle of red sitting in the pantry would warm you up plenty.

You pulled the cork from the bottle stem with a satisfying pop, too occupied by your task to see the large painting of a landscape lift itself from its place on the wall. The squeak of the Styrofoam covered the creak of the floorboards as a heavy weight settled on them. 

Just as you pulled out a kitchen chair, you heard heavy breathing over your shoulder.

“Welcome home.” The voice that rang out through the room was a strange mixture of that of a young boy and a grown man. Your entire body froze as fear shot through your veins. The house settled into silence as your gaze creeped to where the voice had come from.

Standing in front of a man-sized hole in the wall was a veritable giant. He loomed over you, even at a distance, his body wide with sinewy muscle that was barely covered by the large cardigan he wore. Greasy black curls hung down over his face or rather what should have been his face. The orange glow of the kitchen lights bounced off the cracked white porcelain, making his dark brown eyes stand out as they shone with anxiety.

“I’ve been waiting for you, I missed you.” His paw-like hands clasped together in front of him, his fingers nervously intertwining as he waited for you to do something, anything.

Your lips parted and there was only one thing you could think of to say. “You took my underwear.” His whole body curled in on itself as he cringed like a little kid when they would get in trouble. His head bobbed. “How- how long have you been here?”

“My whole life.” He answered. His huge shoulders dropped as he lowered his head, looking at you through his eyelashes. 

“Holy shit, you’re Brahms.” The boy who supposedly died in a fire in this very house almost 20 years ago. Suddenly you knew why you got this house for so fucking cheap. “And you’ve been watching me?” His nod was slow, almost as if he were ashamed. 

“You’re nice.” He simpered.

“Oh fuck,” You whined, “This is a great idea for a book. C’mon get some food, I suppose that neither of us are going anywhere for a while.” He lumbered over, his eyes still wary but the slight pink tint that you could see spreading down his neck told you just how pleased he was with this development.

“Were you the one deleting my writing?” Brahms’s breath hitched and before you could blink, he grabbed a box of fried rice and scurried back into the hole in the wall.

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[missviviii]

HI!! I was thinking maybe a mizu x reader where the reader is kinda in the same boat as mizu where she has heterochromia where one eye is a bright green.

So one day whenever they're in a village or smth Ringo points out that she has the exact same type of glasses as mizu just pure black and so mizu gets kinda suspicious 🤨

and so they sorta stalk her to a point she notices them and confronts them, and from there I think could be determined by you!

(ik this is really specific and long so plz don't be afraid to just scrap it but I just thought it was an interesting idea!)

a/n: ooooh!! alright alright 🫶

.

“Your eyes..”

warning(s): swearing

summary: this samurai and his very..interesting companion seemed to be interested in you, stalking you to the point you got tired of it and confronted it. you didn’t expect to find an individual with similar problems to yourself.

——————————————————————————

You were a mere wanderer—or perhaps just a traveling archer who seeks revenge for those who had thrown you into a ditch, or perhaps your parent who had attempted to kill you as a child because you were a ‘monster’. That was the idea you had grown up with. One bright green eye and the other a different color. That’s why you wear the pure black glasses, to hide away your eyes.

One day, you were crossing through a village. You stood near a stand, buying some food while you kept your head down low. A simple cloak was draped over your shoulder and a pure black glasses hiding your eyes. Your bow hung around your shoulder while the bag of arrows you carried around was on your back. You thanked the food stall owner and dropped some money into his hand before quickly leaving. You didn’t got unnoticed by a certain samurai though, one with orange tinged glasses such as yourself and a very giddy companion.

“Master, look at them! Do you think they are like you?” Ringo pointed out as the two walked into the village. Mizu looked in the direction that he was pointing at, and she found you rather..suspicious. Pure black glasses? Hiding your eyes? An archer too. Mizu squinted her eyes, watching your figure trail off to the distance.

Mizu put her finger up to silence Ringo before she signaled for him to follow her. She stayed just far enough from you, stalking you from behind and observing your actions. As you were looking at a few little charms at a small stand, you noticed a stranger just lingering around you. You tilted your head to the side, wondering who this mysterious figure was and why they seemed to be following you for quite awhile now.

Perhaps it’s just a coincidence.. You told yourself as you began to move, walking away and keeping your head down low. But every time you think you’ve lost them, they keep reappearing near you. That samurai and his companion, what did they want?

Having enough of this little stalking thing, you ducked into an empty street then jumped up onto a wall, and made a leap onto the rooftop of some building. Just as you expected, Mizu and Ringo followed you.

“Huh, where could they have gone?” Mizu wondered to herself as she walked further into the empty street, which had long been abandoned by the locals of the village. Ringo began to hum, following after Mizu while she attempted to look around for you. You stared at the two from the top of the building, frowning.

Were these people sent to..kill you? It wouldn’t be the first time, but what the fuck did you do now?

You lifted up your bow, carefully aiming your arrow at the one with the orange-tinted glasses. Inhale You closed one eye and steadied your heart. Exhale You pulled the arrow back and carefully aimed for the person’s vital point.

Then you released it, allowing the arrow to soar down at the person with perfect accuracy and precision. Yet somehow the person detected it. And dodged it by an inch, allowing it to hit the wall behind them instead. Mizu draws her blade, looking up at the figure on the roof with the bow pointing right at her.

“You! What are you doing? Following me? Did someone send you?!” You yelled as she took a step back. You jumped down from the roof and landed on the ground, still pointing at the two with your arrow in a threatening manner.

“No, no, no! You’ve got it all wrong! You had the same glasses as my master and we thought you were a teeny bit inter—“ Ringo immediately shut his mouth when the arrow was pointed at him. Mizu groans, stepping in front of him and pointing her blade at you.

“Lower your bow. We have no intentions of killing you,” Mizu said calmly as she put her blade away then raised both her hands up, tilting her head to the side for you to do the same. “Curiosity, I suppose. I..haven’t seen someone like me before.”

What?

You lowered your bow and pulled your glasses over your head, revealing your different colored eyes. “You fucking decided to stalk me just so you could see why I’m wearing black glasses?” Huh, that was one of the most interesting things you’ve ever heard. Usually people stalked you just to catch a glimpse of this ‘monster’ wandering around and perhaps turn you in for some hefty reward.

Mizu looked in awe, lowering her hands slowly and staring at your eyes with such intent. You were..beautiful. You seemed so elegant and relaxed, and poised. You came from the same background as her, stuck in the same boat with the same treatment from everyone around you.

“Woah! Your eyes are so cool! What a pretty shade of greeen!!” Ringo loudly exclaimed as he looked at you. Mizu looked away, hiding her face away with her palm while she cleared her throat. “Oh yeah, what’s your name? My name is Ringo! You are just like my master, no? Except you have a bow! Which is reallly cool and—“

Mizu shut him up with a look before she looked back at you. You put on hand on your hip, looking at the two suspiciously. They seemed..nice, but are they? That guy seemed to be rather chatty and energetic, but the samurai was closed off it seems? Clad in a large hat, dark blue cloak, and a scarf around her neck. Mysterious.

“Mizu, my name is Mizu,” she quietly spoke as she took off her glasses, revealing her true eye color. You hummed, taking a step closer and leaning in reaaaal close to look at her eyes. They were pretty, clear as the pristine, cool water and just like the sky. You suddenly smiled, tilting your head to the side while you straightened out your posture.

“Your eyes are pretty, you know that? Clear as the sky and blue like sapphires,” you say casually, catching her off guard for a moment. You stuck out your hand for a handshake, patiently waiting for her to take it. “I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine.”

“Huh..I suppose we could make it work. Your eyes are nice too.”

——————————————————————————

a/n: hxjsnskzbsjw not me finishing this when my eyes are about to give up on me <3

[pupyuj]

g!p fwb wonyoung 😔😔

hehehhahssh wonyyy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i missed writing thoughts for herrr send me wony asks grrrr 😗😗🤭

almost the same situation as the other fwb wony thought! campus popular wony and stinkin' cute but moody reader 😈

little miss perfect is a bit insecure about having a dick though ☹️ only a handful of people know about it but it's not like wony's keeping it a secret! she's not very vocal about having a big dick unlike a certain jock who is very loud about being huge🧍‍♀️shy g!p wony covering up her red face when you pull her cute boxers off,, the kisses that you leave on her inner thighs only making her harder,,, and you're just watching as her cock grows bigger, practically drooling at the sight... wony tells you not to stare at it too much but you were completely entranced by it,, shdhsijx having to tell wony to keep herself quiet bcs your roommate was right outside your door studying,, but baby is barely able to hold her whimpers when you start stroking her cock :(((

sensitive wony definitely comes just from a few minutes of a handjob... and yes, of course she's gonna be horribly embarrassed but the sight of her cum all over your hand drives her crazy 😵‍💫 especially when you clean up your hand with your mouth, keeping eye contact with wony while you lick her cum off your fingers,,, "ride me, (y/n)..." wony would say,, her brain empty save for the thought of completely destroying you w her cock 🤭

🫠 wony having your thighs in a death grip while you're bouncing up and down her cock,, her soft whines filling the air, and having to put your hand around her mouth just to remind her to shut up 😵‍💫😵‍💫 wony struggling not to moan loudly when you start to ride her faster and deeper, seemingly never having enough of her cock,,, you were completely addicted with the way she fits inside your pussy just right,, collapsing onto wony's chest as you came close to your climax,,, not really making an effort to shut her up now bcs you were clutching the bedsheets underneath her,,

omg wony begging to come inside you :(( she just really loves the thought of having a personal cumdump!! and she knew you'd love being reduced to that.. she was already using you to blow off some steam after all, why not take it to the next level right? 🤭 letting wony hold your hips down while she dumps her load inside you,, her warm seed trickling inside your walls making you come in return 😳 no doubt your roommate was probably suspicious of what you were doing now.. especially when a switch flips inside wony's head and she decides to just,, pin you down your own bed and fuck you so hard that your bed slams against the wall,,,,

oh oh omg,, wony would definitely like to fuck around during class,, like maybe the two of you were seated at the back together,,, acting like normal strangers whenever wony was swarmed by her friends,, but then the lesson starts and about halfway through, wony's fingers are knuckle deep inside of you.. thrusting very slowly, and she has that million-dollar smile of hers put on, pretending like everything was fine 🤗 but ofc you get your little revenge by reaching over, slipping your hand underneath her skirt and jerking her off,,, mmdjdhskfjsf the two of you just fucking each other in the back of the class, barely being able to hold back your sounds when you came at the same time,,

excusing yourself to the bathroom right after bcs you needed to clean yourself up,,, but then as you left the classroom, you hear wony asking for permission to leave as well,, so change of plans! 😈 the two of you don't even try to hide behind a stall or a janitor's closet or an empty classroom... wony just grabs you, drags you towards a corner, before ramming her cock inside you,,, face hidden in your neck, moaning helplessly into your skin but still somehow finding it in her to tease you?? 🤤

"b-bet you wanted everyone to see your tight little hole getting fucked by me, hm...? so willing... to let me touch you in class.. fuck... don't worry, one day i'll s-show everybody how much of a slut you really are..."

"bend you over the desk.. you want that, baby? w-wanna—oh my god—wanna get bred by me in front of everybody??"

the answer is always yes please wony i need her so BAD—

[gothamite-rambler]

Lex and Clark fight over being Bruce's friend

Context: Bruce has to deal with Lex seeing him as a friend and Clark, his actual friend, being incensed with this even though Bruce wants nothing to do with Lex! Sadly it seems Lex is also out for revenge against Batman (who he isn't aware is Bruce Wayne).

Lex (in the middle of a long, boring story): I had Superman on the ropes. I could've killed him, but then freaking Batman ruined things!

Bruce (staring into his coffee cup): Tragic loss.

Lex: Right! I almost had him and then that jerk stepped in, but wait let me go back to what led up to that. You know, before Batman stepped in.

Bruce: Mm-hm.

Bruce stayed focused on his black coffee as Lex continued to drone on about this past incident, which Bruce didn’t believe, mainly because he was there as Batman. Lex didn’t almost kill Superman; he had kryptonite that Batman was able to swipe away quickly. Currently, though, he wasn’t Batman. He was Bruce Wayne, lost in his own thoughts.

Bruce (in his head): I'm so tired... I only got an hour of sleep. Younger me could keep going on forty-five minutes, but now I can barely focus. Is Lex still talking, he repeated this story once already?

Lex (continuing to ramble): I hired a good lawyer, though, and those charges were dropped! Great, right?

Bruce: Fantastic. Want to discuss another story about yourself?

Lex smiled, feeling this was an appreciation of him, when in reality, Bruce would rather be anywhere else at the moment but was too checked out to leave.

Clark (calling from a distance): Bruce?

Clark visited Gotham to search for Bruce, needing his aid for a plan involving Lex, who was currently in the middle of scheme in Metropolis. He wasn’t expecting his buddy to be out for coffee. Lex, thankfully unaware of who Clark Kent really was, had no idea why the reporter from Metropolis was in the fancier part of town.

Lex: Bruce, there’s a crazy person calling for you!

Bruce glanced behind his shoulder, then returned to staring into the dark liquid.

Bruce: That’s a friend of mine.

Clark heard Bruce say that and smiled happily.

Lex: A poor guy is your friend? As a joke or something?

Clark, having overheard what Lex said next, changed his smile to a stoic expression. He wasn’t surprised that even in civilian clothes, Lex couldn’t resist being a jerk to the middle class or poor. Clark made it to the table where Lex eyed him suspiciously while Bruce wondered what the graining specks in his coffee were.

Clark Kent (stammering): Bruce… Wh-Why is that random guy with you at this place?

Lex Luthor (rude): Random? That’s rich coming from you. Oh wait, you’re not rich either; I can tell. To spare my friend the stress, I’ll order you kindly to leave.

Clark clenched his fists tightly, staying next to Bruce and preparing to pull him away.

Clark: I’m here to see my best buddy! I was visiting Gotham to... get lunch with him at a good restaurant, not this fake French cuisine with tiny food and expensive prices.

Lex smirked, resting his arms on the table.

Lex: That was a long-winded way of saying you’re poor and taking him to a gross fast food joint.

Clark: Well, Bruce would disagree. He likes cheap and simple foods, right Bruce?

Bruce hummed while taking a long sip from his coffee, the bitter taste refreshing on his tongue as he felt his mind become less weary. Bruce raised an index finger as he downed the entire fancy clear mug of his black coffee.

Lex (judgmental glare): He’s ignoring you. Take that as a hint.

Clark: No, he’s tired and needs a minute.

With a playful smack, Clark tapped Bruce on the back of the head as Bruce placed the empty glass back on the saucer.

Bruce: All right, that tasted bitter. Just how I like my coffee. Clark, when did you get here?

Lex (chuckling): Oh, ouch! He wasn’t even aware you were near him. That’s what you get for hitting him. Who do you think you are?

Clark: More important to him than you, isn’t that right, Bruce?

Bruce (shrugging): I mean, I’d rather be at work.

Lex (oblivious): Bruce, I get it. This nuisance is bothering you. I’ve seen him in Metropolis. He’s just a paperboy.

Clark (shocked): Paperboy?!

Bruce (correcting): He’s a reporter and journalist at the Daily Planet.

Clark: That’s right!

Lex (laughing): A reporter? That’s hilarious. The fact that he thinks he’s friends with you is even funnier. I thought you bottom feeders were supposed to be good at research and noticing the obvious.

Bruce eyed Clark warily but remained silent since this wasn’t his villain.

Lex: Bruce, pal, what did you tell him? I need to know so I can use it on another poor person.

Bruce: We’re actually friends; there’s nothing deceitful about it.

Clark: Aww, thanks Bruce.

Lex scoffed, remaining doubtful about this, which only made Clark angrier.

Clark (tight smile): The crazy thing is, I recognize you. Lexie, was it? Insane billionaire, arrested numerous times but always walks away because of your money… Superman has beaten you to a pulp how many times? Lost count. Bruce, you know how many times he lost?

Bruce (dryly): I stopped counting after fifty.

Lex (clenching his jaw): Okay, my name is Lex. Lex Luthor, and the charges were dropped.

Clark (sarcastic): Yeah, daddy’s money does that for you.

Bruce cleared his throat, visibly annoyed.

Clark (stumbling over his words): Not—Not you, buddy. You haven’t committed serious crimes and then walked away because you threw money at the problem.

Lex: Okay, but he’s bailed his son out of jail a lot. Sorry, Bruce, just needed to prove a point.

Bruce shrugged, getting up to get another cup of coffee. Clark and Lex waited for a few seconds, silently judging the other man.

Clark (speaking first): I have to admit, though, Lex, you look less crazed and disheveled than you did in that mugshot where you got arrested for punching a yacht captain. Impressive, did you make sure to buy out the shirts they're selling of your mugshot on the front?

Lex: He told me he’d kick me off the ship when I did nothing wrong! And yes, I'm fighting for a copyright on the shirts! That's my money!

Bruce sat back down at the table with a new cup of coffee and took another sip.

Bruce: I’m going to take this with me.

Bruce poured the rest of the contents into a travel mug he brought with him, causing Lex to look on in shock.

Lex: He got that from you, Cline? Only poor people take leftover coffee with them!

Clark (gritted teeth): My name is Clark.

Lex (smirking): Paperboy, don’t you have a sensationalist, false story to write?

Clark: Hey, we fact-check all our sources! That was only in the '60s!

Bruce stared at his carrot cake, pondering if he should’ve gotten a different flavor.

Bruce: I should’ve gotten the strawberry cake. This is too dry.

Lex (glaring at Clark): I’m not sure what he told you, poor man, but he probably just said that you were friends to be nice. So I’m going to say this one last time: leave.

Clark clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Bruce sighed, standing up with his travel mug.

Bruce: Clark clearly needs me for something urgent, Alexander. My apologies, but I have to talk to him before he says or does something he regrets.

Clark gulped, holding his head down.

Bruce: We can meet up in three weeks.

Lex shrugged.

Lex: Works for me; we can discuss that merger you were interested in.

Bruce (shaking his head): I wasn’t, but put that in the back of your mind for next time. Clark, go the other way.

Clark (smugly): I will. Have the day you deserve, Alexander.

Lex: You call me Lex!

Clark walked off with a curt smile not correcting himself because this is Lex Luthor. Bruce raised his coffee as a sign of goodbye to Lex and followed behind Clark. Lex crossed his arms, perplexed at one thing and assuming the two were out of earshot.

Lex: Bruce is a strange man, but is he friends with that guy because he’s lonely? Geez, I have to find some middle-class people he can be around.

Clark groaned, unfortunately overhearing what Lex said.

Bruce: He’s talking about us?

Clark: Yes... I hate that guy. When were you going to tell me you were talking to that asshole? Is this like Arthur? What does he have that I don’t?

Bruce: Oh my God, for the last time, Arthur and I are friends. Get over it. With Lex, we got stuck in an elevator during a business trip. He kept rambling about the dumbest shit and blaming everyone for his crimes, but he assumed me barely responding meant I wanted to be his friend. He hasn't left me alone since.

Clark (nodding): That sounds about Lex.

Bruce chuckled, agreeing.

Bruce: Yep, today he caught me when I was tired and offered to buy me coffee. I couldn’t say no; it’s free coffee.

Clark (gently patting Bruce on the back): Also fair. Freaking Lex, trying to steal my best buddy.

Bruce (exhausted): I can’t believe I’m in the middle of this. What did you actually visit for?

Clark (serious): I've got some bad news. Lex is targeting Batman this time. He believes Batman is foolish enough to ally with him, and he's definitely planning to strike at your weakest point—metaphorically speaking. I thought you should be aware.

Bruce (concerned): How did you find this out?

Clark: A reporter has his ways of finding out because I'm a credible one. Not one that spreads false news!

Bruce (annoyed): We are not even near him anymore; calm down. We can discuss the rest of this at the manor.

Clark: Perfect.

Clark placed his arm on Bruce’s shoulder, but the man sidestepped away, not in the mood.

Lex Luthor being oblivious that Bruce Wayne hates him pt 1

[navillee]

HIII i really love your writing and i really want to request you this ^^ seeing your recent post about dawnbreaker zayne made me think that...i would love to see some dawnbreaker zayne and mc angst from you 🫣

Since English isn't my first language, I'm delighted to read that. Dawnbraker Zayne angst here we go!

I miss her. That was Zayne's conclusion as he walked by the empty streets, where no soul could be seem. How can he miss someone he has never met before? The old and almost destroyed Linkon tourist's guide kept on his hands as he wandered on a ghost city, by the time forgotten, hoping he could savor glimpses of someone who wasn't there anymore. To hunt memories, so he can repeat to himself that, at least, in another life, he was happy;

The dreams started when he was a way younger. He thought it was just his brain's way to cope with his burden, but when the same pattern repeated itself over and over again throughout the years, Zayne knew there couldn't exist such coincidence. So he became obsessed.

He searched on every data about his other self. How life was before, when the pre stage wanderers weren't such a treat to society as now. The hospital, the hunter's association, the establishments he used to visit, and most importantly of all: you;

He thought he wasn't envious of his doctor version at first. Dawnbraker was able to deal with the lack of family since he never had one or even friends and a healthy life structure in general. But you. Oh, you. The girl in the dreams with the bright personality and warm tone of voice. Dawnbraker felt envious for the first time when that voice called his name. He knew it wasn't his name, and it hurt;

He bought your favorite candies and put them at his half empty apartment. He even bought flowers in an illusionary attempt to bring you closer, in hopes you would show up. But you didn't exist in his world. It comforted him to do it, though. It was his ritual before he went to sleep. If he kept you alive in his mind during the day, you would grace him in his dreams;

It was so fucking unfair. The way he kept a diary of his dreams at the bed table besides his bed to engrave every detail of you was fucking unfair;

He even did portraits of you — the drawing ability he discovered his doctor version also had — because he got terrified, thinking that all of sudden the dreams could come to an permanently end, and he would never be able to see you again;

From that desperation came the avaricious felling of rights upon his other self. He wanted as much time with you as he could get. Dawnbraker's dreams had become his drug;

It was like day and night had switched positions. Dawnbraker Zayne was performing during the day, surviving every second of it. He started to kill the humans before they could turn into wanderers like they were just numbers. It wasn't real after all. No, it was just a bad nightmare that he would wake up from, in Linkon, embraced in your loving arms and sweet voice. He rejected his life, believing that was his right to possess Doctor Zayne's one;

He needed his fix. He needed desperately every night. When he didn't get it, he became reckless, killing to vent his anger, killing in revenge at the universe for giving him this miserable existence. He killed almost for joy;

When two weeks passed by without any dreams, he went a step further into his addiction. One pill. Just one to make dawnbraker Zayne sleep properly and get to his other self. He swallowed it, taking two sips of water. His head hurted, and his hands trambled. But it was functional. Dawnbraker fell into a deep slumber;

It worked amazingly. The pill helped to keep his staying with you more vivid. Even though he couldn't feel physically what Zayne felt, he could see your face clearly now. It wasn't a blury dream. You were so perfect, every detail, walking on the rain together, the sound of the droplets of rain hitting the umbrella mixing with your laugh. Zayne wanted to cry. Would you notice his tears in the rain? You both were soaked, you and him apparently stopped by the convenience store to buy an umbrella;

You were holding some shopping bags and a bouquet of flowers, the same flower he has bought back in his world. He felt glad you received them in this universe. Dawnbraker felt guilty. Has Doctor Zayne noticed the flowers on the counter while he stayed in his world?

After that wonderful dream, Dawnbreaker faced his fall. It started with one pill that turned into two in only a spare of weeks, then three. He killed half human beings, then he drugged himself to the life he could save those people. To where he has a perfect life, when he was looked to as a person, not a feared shadow living in the corner;

He remembered to left hints on his apartment to the other Zayne from that night on. Flowers, movie tickets from the movies released back then, some not too revealing notes... some revealing ones;

One day, he arrived at his apartment with an injury on his arm. He had seen so much blood that day, spilled so much blood. His blood and innocent's too. Dawnbraker felt an excruciating pain. He felt totally abandoned in the universe;

In order to forget the pain consuming him, he swallowed all the remaining pills left on the bottle. He didn't have much time, so he send a message to the only number he had registered on his phone since that little boy accident, and also placed one item on his bedside table as he always did, so his other self would capture what he wanted Zayne to do, and he slept;

Dawnbraker found himself in the corridor to your apartment, his heart pounding on his chest like he wanted desperately to live. He stumbled at the open door's frame, rushing into your living room, finding you there, safe and sound, his pretty girl, as always. Dawnbraker wanted to cry again, and this time, he let himself;

"Zayne? What happened? Is everything okay?" You came rushing to him, and this time, he couldn't hide the surprise. On this dream, he was able to feel your touch;

He crumbled on his own weight, falling on his knees in front of you, his eyes sparkly with crystal clear tears washing over his face, pupils stagnated on you. As you brushed his tears off, he placed both his hands on top of yours, nuzzling his face against your warmth, felling you for the first time;

"Hard day at work?" You asked, and he sobbed, hands trembling as he tried to stop the tears. So you hugged him. With any word needed, you just stayed with him, the man's big frame hidden in your neck crook, warm tears running down your skin as you keep a tender scratch on his hair's scalp;

"S'okay Zayne, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." She coped his face with both hands, touching both foreheads together, and kept caressing her thumbs on his face. "I love you. And there's nothing in this universe able to change that."

Doctor Zayne woke up at the infamous, almost empty apartment, almost screaming in pain. What had happened? Why was he there? His head was spinning, he was sweating, and as soon as he raised his head to check on himself, he was also bleeding. The bedsheets were soaked in blood;

Zayne tried to get out of bed to serch for medical supplies in order to staunch the bleeding. But he failed when he computed the actual condition of his counterparts arm: it wasn't human anymore;

Then, Doctor Zayne remembered the uncountable notes left to him by himself from that sick reality: "Wanderers. Infectious danger." Then he understood. It was his worst nightmare, the last one;

He made a colossal effort to try to get off bed. There's need to be a solution, a way out to save himself from that destiny. Then, he stumbled his hand on a little item left on the side bed table. He groaned in pain on the process to bring the object closer to his sight;

It was a little box. His last item was a set of rings. Engagement ones;

Dawnbraker Zayne opened his eyes, meeting your tender gaze, too flabbergasted to even speak. His body just leaned, seeking more of your warmth. You understood him and his cowardice, so you simply leaned the remaining amount of millimeters between both lips, kissing him again and again and again. "No need to worry. I'm gonna take care of you today, okay?" You said, making tears run down his eyes. "You...promise?" Dawnbraker asked, his throat aching for trying to hold his happy tears;

"Off course I promise! I'll always take care of you, Zayne." She smiled again. After a terrible life, Dawnbreaker felt loved. He pulled you for a last kiss. "Thank you. I'll always love you, no matter when or where. Remember that."

Blurred by tears, Dawnbreaker's vision faded away from that reality into nothing. But while he took the last look at you, all passionate and feelings love, he couldn't be envious anymore, because he was once, loved by his dream girl, he was at least once, truly happy. Dawnbreaker finally could fell peace;

Delirious by the pain, the last thing Doctor Zayne could hear was someone kicking the front door, presenting themselves as police. Before his bedroom door was broken entirely down, he placed the ring box near his chest, clenching his grip around it;

Doctor Zayne opened his eyes again to meet yours. The pain had vanished, and he returned to his world. As you kissed all over his face, he smiled, hugging you tightly as tears ran down his face. That was his last nightmare as Dawnbreaker, and Doctor Zayne would make sure to fulfill his last wish;

Just then, one day, Zayne would also give his last breath beside the woman he loved dearly.

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